images generously made available by the internet archive/american libraries.) learning to fly [illustration: _photo by topical press agency._ a school machine well aloft.] learning to fly a practical manual for beginners by claude grahame-white and harry harper _fully illustrated_ new york the macmillan company printed in england. contents i. theories of tuition ii. temperament and the airman iii. first experiences with an aeroplane (as described by mr. grahame-white) iv. the controlling of latest-type craft v. the stages of tuition vi. the test flights vii. perils of the air viii. factors that make for safety ix. a study of the methods of great pilots x. cross-country flying xi. aviation as a profession xii. the future of flight illustrations a school machine well aloft _frontispiece_ face page grahame-white school biplane the controls of a school biplane rear view of a school biplane power-plant of a school biplane motor and other gear--another view pupil and instructor ready for a flight pupil and instructor in flight ( ) pupil and instructor in flight ( ) pupil and instructor in flight ( ) authors' note.--the photographs to illustrate this book, as set forth above, were taken at the grahame-white flying school, the london aerodrome, hendon, by operators of the topical press agency, and , red lion court, fleet street, london, e.c. authors' note this book is written for the novice--and for the novice who is completely a novice. we have assumed, in writing it, that it will come into the hands of men who, having determined to enter this great and growing industry of aviation, and having decided wisely to learn to fly as their preliminary step, feel they would like to gain beforehand--before, that is to say, they take the plunge of selecting and joining a flying school--all that can be imparted non-technically, and in such a brief manual as this, not only as to the stages of tuition and the tests to be undergone, but also in regard to such general questions as, having once turned their thoughts towards flying, they take a sudden and a very active interest. it has been our aim, bearing in mind this first and somewhat restless interest, to cover a wide rather than a restricted field; and this being so, and remembering also the limitations of space, we cannot pretend--and do not for a moment wish it to be assumed that we pretend--to cover exhaustively the various topics we discuss. our endeavour, in the pages at our disposal, has not been to satisfy completely this first curiosity of the novice, but rather to stimulate and strengthen it, and guide it, so to say, on lines which will lead to a fuller and more detailed research. it is from this point of view, as a short yet comprehensive introduction, and particularly as an aid to the beginner in his choice of a school, and in what may be called his mental preparation for the stages of his tuition, that we desire our book to be regarded. c. g.-w. h. h. _april_, . chapter i theories of tuition only eight years ago, in , it was declared impossible for one man to teach another to fly. those few men who had risen from the ground in aeroplanes, notably the wright brothers, were held to be endowed by nature in some very peculiar way; to be men who possessed some remarkable and hitherto unexplained sense of equilibrium. that these men would be able to take other men--ordinary members of the human race--and teach them in their turn to navigate the air, was a suggestion that was ridiculed. but wilbur wright, after a series of brilliant flights, began actually to instruct his first pupils; doing so with the same care and precision, and the same success, that had characterised all his pioneer work. and these first men who were taught to fly on strange machines--as apart from the pioneers who had taught themselves to fly with craft of their own construction--made progress which confounded the sceptics. they went in easy and leisurely fashion from stage to stage, and learned to become aviators without difficulty, and mainly without accident. after this, increasing in numbers from two or three to a dozen, and from a dozen to fifty and then a hundred, the army of airmen grew until it could be totalled in thousands. instead of being haphazard, the teaching of men to fly became a business. flying schools were established; courses of tuition were arranged; certain pilots specialised in the work of instruction. it was shown beyond doubt that, instead of its being necessary for an aviator to be a species of acrobat, any average man could learn to fly. certainly a man who intends to fly should be constitutionally sound; this point is important. when in an aeroplane, one passes very quickly through the air, and such rapid movement--and also the effect of varying altitudes--entail a certain physical strain. a man with a weak heart might find himself affected adversely by flying; while one whose lungs were not sound might find that his breathing was impeded seriously by a swift passage through the air. more than one fatality, doubtful as to its exact cause, has been attributed to the collapse of a pilot who was not organically sound, or who ascended when in poor health. and here again is an important point. no man, even a normally healthy man, should attempt to pilot a machine in flight when he is feeling unwell. in such cases the strain of flying, and the effect of the swift motion through the air, may cause a temporary collapse; and in the air, when a man is alone in a machine, any slight attack of faintness may be sufficient to bring about a fatality. a fair judgment of speed, and an eye for distance, are very helpful to the man who would learn to fly, and it is here that a man who has motored a good deal, driving his own car, is at advantage at first over one who has not. but otherwise, and writing generally, any man of average quickness of movement, of average agility, can learn without difficulty to control an aeroplane in flight. it is wrong to imagine that exceptional men are required. an unusual facility, of course, marks the expert pilot; but we are writing of men who would attain an average skill. there has been discussion as to the age at which a man should learn to fly, or as to the introduction of age limits generally in the piloting of aircraft. but this introduces a difficult question; one which depends so entirely on the individual, and regarding which we need the data that will be provided by further experience. some men retain from year to year, and to a remarkable extent, the faculties that are necessary; others lose them rapidly. the late mr. s. f. cody was flying constantly, and with a very conspicuous skill, at an age when he might have been thought unfit. but then he was a man of a rare vitality and a great enthusiasm--a man who, though he flew so often, declared that each of his flights was an "adventure." taking men in the average one may say this: the younger a man is, when he learns to fly, the better for him. much depends, naturally, on the sort of flying he intends to do after he has attained proficiency. if he is going to fly in war, or under conditions that impose a heavy strain, then he must be a young man. but if he intends to fly for his own pleasure, and under favourable conditions, then this factor of age loses much of its importance, and it is only necessary that a man should retain say, an ordinary activity, and a normal quickness of vision and of judgment. flying is not difficult. it is in a sense too easy, and this is just where its hidden danger lies. if a pupil is carefully taught, and flies at first only when the weather conditions are suitable, he will find it surprisingly easy to pilot an aeroplane. that it is not dangerous to learn to fly is proved daily. though hundreds and thousands of pupils have now passed through the schools, anything in the nature of a serious accident is very rarely chronicled. this immunity from accident is due largely to the care and experience of instructors, and also to the fact that all pupils pass through a very carefully graduated tuition, and that no hazardous flights are allowed; while another and an important element of safety lies in the fact that no flying is permitted at the schools unless weather conditions are favourable. it is now a fair contention that, provided a man exercises judgment, and ascends only in weather that is reasonably suitable, there is no more danger in flying an aeroplane than in driving a motor-car. much depends of course on the dexterity of the pupil, and particularly on his manual dexterity--on what is known, colloquially, as "hands." some men, even after they have been carefully taught, are apt to remain heavy and clumsy in their control. others, though, seem to acquire the right touch almost by instinct; and these are the men who have in them the making of good pilots. horsemen refer to "hands" when they speak of a man who rides well; and in flying, if a man is to handle a machine skilfully, there is need for that same instinctive delicacy of touch. nowadays, when a pupil joins a well-established flying school, he finds that everything is made easy and pleasant for him. most men enjoy very thoroughly the period of their tuition. a friendly regard springs up between the pupils and their instructors, and men who have learned to fly, and are now expert pilots, bear with them very pleasant reminiscences of their "school" days. but there were times, and it seems already in the dim and distant past, when learning to fly was a strange, haphazard, and hardly pleasant experience; though it had a sporting interest certainly, and offered such prospects of adventure as commended it to bold spirits who were prepared for hardship, and had a well-filled purse. the last requirement was very necessary. in the bad old days, amusing days though they were without doubt, no fixed charge was made to cover such breakages, or damage to an aeroplane, as a pupil might be guilty of during his period of instruction. these items of damage--broken propellers, planes, or landing gear--were all entered up very carefully on special bills, and presented from time to time to the dismayed novice; and a man who was clumsy or impetuous found learning to fly an expensive affair. there was a pupil who joined a school soon after bleriot's crossing of the channel by air. it was a monoplane school; and the monoplane, unless a man is careful and very patient, is not an easy machine to learn to fly. this beginner was not patient; he was indeed more than usually impetuous. his landings, in particular, were often abrupt. he broke propellers, frequently, to say nothing of wings and of alighting gear. and of all these breakages a note was made. bills were handed to him--long and intricate bills, with each item amounting to so many hundreds of francs. having a sense of humour, the pupil began to paper his shed with these formidable bills, allowing them to hang in festoons around the walls. what it cost him to learn to fly nobody except himself knew. he paid away certainly, in his bills for breakages, enough money to buy several aeroplanes. this was in the early days, when aviators were few and all flying schools experimental. to-day a pupil need not concern himself, even if he does damage a machine. before beginning his tuition he pays his fee, one definite sum which covers all contingencies that may arise. it includes any and all damage that he may do to the aircraft of his instructors; it covers also any third-party claims that may be made against him--claims that is to say from any third person who might be injured in an accident for which he was responsible. this inclusive fee varies, in schools of repute, from £ to £ . the modern aerodromes, or schools of flight, at which a pupil receives his tuition, have been evolved rapidly from the humblest of beginnings. the first flying grounds were, as a rule, nothing more than open tracts of land, such as offered a fairly smooth landing-place and an absence of dangerous wind-gusts. then, as aviation developed, pilots came together at these grounds, and sheds were built to house their craft. and after this, quickly as a rule, an organisation was built up. beginning from rough shelters, erected hastily on the brink of a stretch of open land, there grew row upon row of neatly-built sheds, with workshops near them in which aircraft could be constructed or repaired. and from this stage, not content with the provision made for them by nature, those in control of the aerodromes began to dig up trees, fill in ditches and hollows, and smooth away rough contours of the land, so as to obtain a huge, smooth expanse on which aircraft might alight and manoeuvre without accident. and after this came the building up of fences and entrance gates, the erection of executive offices and restaurants, the provision of telephone exchanges and other facilities--the creation in fact of a modern aerodrome. a pupil to-day, if he decides to learn to fly, finds he has an ample choice in the matter of a school. he may feel indeed that there is almost an embarrassment of facilities. but there are certain very definite requirements, in regard to any modern flying school; and if a novice bears these in mind, and thinks of them carefully when he is considering what school he shall join, he cannot go far wrong. first there is the question of the aerodrome on which, and above which, the pupil will undergo his instruction. this should be of ample size and of an adequately smooth surface; and it should be so situated, also, that it is free from wind eddies and gusts, such as are set up by hills, woods, or contours of the land, and are likely to inconvenience a novice when he makes his first flights. the best position for an aerodrome is in a valley, not abrupt but gently sloping. with a flying ground so placed, shielded well by nature on every hand, it may prove sufficiently calm for instruction even on days when there is a gusty wind blowing across more exposed points; and such a natural advantage is of importance for a pupil. it may mean that he is obtaining his tuition from day to day, when other pupils, learning to fly at grounds less favourably situated, have to remain compulsorily idle, waiting either for the wind to drop, or to veer to some quarter from which their aerodrome is sheltered. it is very necessary, of course, in the operation of a flying school, that there should be competent instructors; also a sufficient number of these to prevent them from being over-taxed, or having more pupils at any one time than they can handle conveniently. and it is greatly to the advantage of a pupil if these instructors have been chosen with an intelligent care. a man may be a capable pilot, and yet not have the temperament that will suit him for imparting his knowledge to others. the instructor who, besides being a fine flyer, has the patience and sympathy of a born teacher, is by no means easy to find. a school which does find such men, and retains their services, offers attractions for a pupil which--in any preliminary visit he pays to a school before joining it--he should look for keenly. and he should make certain, too, that the school has a staff of skilled and experienced mechanics. another indispensable feature of a school is a sufficient number of aeroplanes, machines suited specially for the purposes of tuition, and maintained at a high efficiency. it has been no uncommon thing--though here again one is writing of the past--for the total resources of a school to comprise, say, two machines. hence a couple of smashes would put such a school temporarily out of action, and leave the pupils with nothing to do but kick their heels, and wait until the machines had been repaired. it is certainly an advantage, from the pupil's point of view, if there are well-equipped workshops in connection with the school he joins; also if the proprietors of his school have an ample supply of engines. with facilities for repair work immediately at hand, and with a spare engine ready at once to put in a machine--while one that has been giving trouble is dealt with in the engine-shop--there should always be a full complement of craft for the work of instruction. when workshops are in operation in connection with a school an opportunity is usually provided, also, for a novice to gain some knowledge as to the mechanism and working of the aero-motor: and this of course will be useful to him. there has been discussion as to the type of aeroplane on which one should learn to fly; but in this question, as in that of an age limit for airmen, it is extremely difficult, besides being unwise, to attempt to frame a hard-and-fast rule. the monoplane, for instance, is not an easy machine to learn to fly: it is not easy, that is to say, compared with certain types of biplane. yet numbers of pupils have been taught on monoplanes, and this without accident. there is also a question whether, among biplanes, it is best to learn on a tractor machine--one that is to say with the engine in front of the main planes--or on a "pusher" type of craft; this last mentioned having its motor behind the planes. aeroplanes of both types are in use; and it would be advantageous, of course, for a novice to accustom himself to handle either. but from the point of view of those who operate large flying schools, and have to weigh one point against another, and eliminate so far as possible the elements of risk or difficulty, there are very distinct advantages in a "pusher" biplane, such as is illustrated facing page . the control of such a machine is simple, and can be grasped quite readily. it provides the novice, when he is seated in it, with a clear and unobstructed view of the ground immediately in front of and below him; and this, in the early stages of tuition, is an extremely important point. a craft of such a type, also, when built specially for instruction, can be given a very strong alighting gear, and this makes for safety when a pupil is in his first tests, and may be guilty of an abrupt or rough descent. again, while such a school machine as this is engined adequately, it is at the same time comparatively slow in flight, and has the advantage also that it will alight at slow speeds. in the air, too, it has a large measure of stability, and is not too rapid in its response to its controls. it gives a pupil what is very necessary for him in his first flights, and that is a certain latitude for error. it is safe to say, indeed, without being dogmatic, that a "pusher" biplane of the type illustrated, if constructed specially for school work, offers a pupil two very clearly marked advantages. these are: ( ) a craft which he can learn to fly quickly; and ( ) a machine on which he can pass through his tuition with the least risk of accident. this last-mentioned point is, naturally, one of extreme importance. it is very necessary, apart from any question of personal injury, that a pupil should be protected during his tuition from anything in the nature of a bad smash. a man should start to learn to fly with full confidence; the more he has the better, provided it is tempered with caution. and if he can go through his training without accident, and preserve the steadily growing confidence that his proficiency will give him, he is on the high road to success as a pilot. but if he meets with an accident while he is learning--some sudden and quite unexpected fall--this may have a serious and a permanent influence on his nerves, even if he escapes without injury. it happened frequently in the early days that a promising pupil, a man who showed both confidence and skill, had his nerve ruined, and all his "dash" taken from him, by some unlucky accident while he was learning to fly. there are certain minor points a pupil should consider when he selects a flying school--points which have reference mainly to his own comfort and convenience. he will prefer, for instance, other things being equal, a school that is near some large town or city, and not buried away inaccessibly. it is a convenience also, and one that facilitates instruction, if a pupil can obtain, quite near the aerodrome, rooms where he can live temporarily while undergoing his instruction, and so be able to reach the flying ground in a minute or so, whenever and at any time the weather conditions are favourable. it is a convenience again if, either on the aerodrome itself or immediately adjacent, there is a canteen or restaurant where meals and other refreshments can be obtained. dressing-rooms and reading rooms, when provided by the proprietors of a school, add to the comfort of the novice while he is in attendance on the aerodrome. in winter, particularly, such facilities are required. at a modern school, if it is well conducted, all heroics or exceptional feats are discouraged. pupils who want to do wild things must be sternly repressed, even if only for the common good. the aim is to train a certain number of pupils, not hastening over the tuition but giving each man his full and complete course, and to do this with a minimum of risk. in the early days of flying there were remarkable exploits at the schools, and some very dangerous ones also. but nowadays the reckless, happy-go-lucky spirit has gone. tuition is based on experience. each pupil must submit to the routine, and listen attentively to the instructions given him. there are no short cuts--not at any rate with safety--in the art of learning to fly. the question is asked, often, how long it should take a man to learn to fly. it is almost impossible, though, to specify any fixed time. a very great deal must depend on the weather. a pupil who joins a school in the summer is more likely, naturally, to complete his tuition quickly than one who begins in the winter. in periods when there are high and gusty winds it may be necessary to suspend school work for several days. but at such times the pupil need not be completely idle. lectures on aviation are organised sometimes by the schools; while a pupil should have opportunities also--as has been mentioned before--of going into the engine-shop and studying the repair and overhaul of motors and machines. it is on record that a pupil has learned to fly in a day, even in a few hours; but here the circumstances, and the men, were exceptional. such an unusual facility represents one extreme; while as another, it may happen that a man, owing to a combination of adverse circumstances, is six months before he gains his certificate of proficiency. it may be taken, as a rule, that a pupil should set aside say a couple of months in order to undergo thoroughly, and without any haste, his full period of tuition. school records prove, as a rule, that the pilots who learn to fly abnormally quickly are apt to experience an abnormal number of accidents at a later date, due principally to a lack of real sound knowledge, which they should have gained during the period of their tuition. one must learn to walk before one can run, and this takes time; and the remark applies aptly to aviation. it is very necessary for the pupil to spend as much time as he can on the aerodrome. much is to be learned, by an observant man, apart from the actual time during which he is engaged with his instructor. if he watches men who are highly skilled, he may gain many useful hints, though he himself is on the ground. chapter ii temperament and the airman as aviation passed from its earliest infancy, and a number of men began to fly, the temperament of the individual pupil, and the effect of this temperament on his progress as an aviator, began to reveal itself. and temperament does play a large part in flying; as it does in any sport in which a man is given control of a highly sensitive apparatus, errors of judgment in the handling of which may lead to disaster. it is not, as a rule, until he has passed through his early stages of tuition, and has begun to handle an aeroplane alone, and is beyond the direct control of his instructor, that the temperament of a pupil really plays its part. up to this point he is one among many, conforming to certain rules, and obliged to mould himself to the routine of the school. but when he begins to fly by himself, and particularly when he has passed his tests for proficiency, and is embarking, say, on cross-country flights, then this question of temperament begins really to affect his flying. all men who learn to fly--numbering as they do thousands nowadays--cannot be endowed specially by nature for their task. there is indeed a wide latitude for temperamental differences--always provided that nothing more is required of a man than a certain average of skill. but if a man is to become a first-class pilot, one distinctly above the average, then the question of his temperament, as it influences his flying, is certainly important. a rough classification of the pupils at a school--just a preliminary sorting of types--shows as a rule the existence of two clearly-marked temperaments. one is that of the man who is deliberate, whose temperament guards him from doing anything perfunctorily or in a hurry; the other is that of a man--a type frequently encountered nowadays--who while being quick, keen, and intelligent, mars these good qualities by a temperamental impatience which he finds it difficult or impossible to control, and which makes him irritable and restless at any suggestion of delay. now the first of these men need not to be wholly commended, nor the second entirely condemned. a capacity for deliberation, both in study and in practice, is very useful when learning to fly. it will protect a man from many errors, and render his progress sure, though it may be slow. but something more than deliberation is required in the aviator of distinction. there must be the vital spark of enterprise, the temperamental quality which is known as "dash," the quick action of the mind, in difficulty or peril, that will carry certain men to safety through many dangers. this imaginative power is possessed as a rule, though in ways that differ considerably, by the second type of pupil we have described--the restless, impatient man. but in his case this quality is, more often than not, marred by his instability; by the lack of that judgment which is so necessary to counterbalance imagination, but which is, unfortunately, not so often found. a man who decides to become an aviator, and particularly if he intends to fly professionally, should ask himself quite seriously if his temperament is likely to aid him, or whether perhaps it may not be a danger. this point is certainly one of importance, though it cannot be stated directly or decided in so many words. there is a vital question at least that the novice should ask himself; and this is whether his temperament, whatever its general tendency may be, includes a sufficient leavening of caution. in the navigation of the air caution is indispensable. a pupil must remind himself constantly that, though it appears easy--and is indeed easy--to learn to handle a machine in flight, no liberties must under any circumstances be taken with the air. every instant a man is flying he needs to remember the value of caution. in the air one cannot afford to make mistakes. naturally there is an ideal temperament for flying; but it is one which, owing to the combination of qualities that are required, is very rarely met with. the man who possesses it is gifted with courage, ambition, "dash," and with a readiness in an emergency that amounts to intuition. and yet these positive qualities are, in the ideal temperament, allied to, and tempered by, a strong vein of prudence and of caution. the pilot has absolute system, method, and thoroughness in everything he does. the average pupil cannot hope to be so luckily endowed. but he can study his personality, and seek to repress traits that may seem harmful. there is need in flying for a sound judgment, one that will enable a man to come to a decision quickly and yet accurately. things happen rapidly in the air. it is one of the grim aspects of flying that, just at a moment when everything appears secure, a sudden disaster may threaten. so it is of vast importance to a pilot, if he has to fly regularly, that he should have an instinctive and dependable judgment; a capacity for deciding quickly and without panic; a capacity, when several ways present themselves of extricating himself from some quandary, of being able to choose the right one, and of not having to think long before doing so. this implies a combination really of judgment and resource. the man of confidence, the man of resource, is well endowed for flying. but he must not be over-confident. the over-confident man is a menace to himself and to others. it is not a proper spirit at all in which to approach aviation. we do not know enough about the navigation of the air to be in the least over-confident. the spirit, rather, should be one of humility--a determination to proceed warily, and to make very certain of what limited knowledge we do possess. two of the worst traits in an aviator are impatience and irritability. a man who has these temperamental drawbacks in a form which is strongly marked, and who cannot control them, should not think of becoming an aviator. the man who is impatient and irritable finds himself out of harmony with the whole theory of aerial navigation. there is a long list of "don'ts" in flying; in the handling of one's machine, in the weather one flies in, in all the feats that one should attempt and leave alone. a number of details must be memorised, and must never be forgotten or overlooked, trivial though some of them may seem. the frame of mind of the man who flies must be alert, yet quiet and reposeful; he must be clear-headed, not hot-headed. the man who is in a hurry, who ignores details when he sets out on a flight, is the man who runs risks and is bound sooner or later to pay the penalty. the perils of recklessness in flying are very great. the man who "takes chances," who thinks he can do something when, as a matter of fact, he has neither sufficient knowledge or experience, runs a very grave and constant risk. it is the thoughtful, considering frame of mind, particularly in a pupil, which is the safe one; but this must not be taken to imply a type of man who lacks power of action. initiative, and a quick capacity for action, are most necessary in aviation. new problems are being faced continually, and the brain succeeds which is the most active and original. chapter iii first experiences with an aeroplane (as described by mr. grahame-white) after a period of ballooning, which offers experience for an aviator in the judging of heights and distances, and in growing accustomed to the sensation of being in the air, i devoted a good deal of time and attention--more indeed at the time, and in view of my other responsibilities, than i could reasonably spare--to a study of the theory of aeroplane construction, and to the making of models. this was prior to ; bleriot had not yet flown the channel in his monoplane. but when he did i put models aside, and determined to buy an aeroplane and learn to fly. at the end of august, , so that i might inspect the various aeroplanes that were then available, and they were few enough, i went to rheims, in france, and attended the first flying meeting the world had seen. at the aerodrome i met and talked with the great pioneers: with bleriot, fresh from his cross-channel triumph; with levavasseur, the designer of the beautiful but ill-fated antoinette monoplane, which had, through engine failure, let hubert latham twice into the channel during his attempts to make the crossing; with henry farman who, fitting one of the first gnome motors to a biplane of his own construction, flew for more than three hours at rheims, and created a world's record; and also with m. voisin, whose biplane was then being flown by a number of pilots. finally, after careful consideration, i made a contract with m. bleriot to purchase from him, at the end of the meeting, a monoplane of a type that appeared first at rheims, and of which there was not another model then in existence. this machine differed considerably from the one with which m. bleriot had flown the channel. his cross-channel monoplane was a single-seated craft fitted with an air-cooled motor of about h.p. the machine i agreed to buy at rheims, and which was known as bleriot no. xii., would carry two people, pilot and passenger, while it had an -cylinder water-cooled motor developing h.p.--an exceptional power in those days. the position of the occupants, as they sat in the machine, differed from the arrangement in the cross-channel bleriot. in the latter the pilot sat in a hull placed between the planes, and with his head and shoulders above them. but in this new and larger machine the pilot and passenger sat in seats which were placed below the planes. the craft was, as a matter of fact, an experiment, being built almost purely for speed; hence its powerful motor. m. bleriot's idea, in constructing it, was to have a machine with which he might win the gordon-bennett international speed race at rheims. but this hope he did not realise; nor did i obtain delivery of the craft i desired. bleriot, flying alone in this big monoplane, started in a speed flight for the gordon-bennett; but he was only a quarter of the way round the course, on his second lap, when the machine was seen to break suddenly into flames and crash to the ground from a height of feet. it was wrecked entirely, but bleriot was fortunate enough to escape with nothing worse than burns about the face and hands, and a general shock. the cause of the accident was that an indiarubber tube, fixed temporarily to carry petrol from the tank to the carburettor, had been eaten through and had permitted petrol to leak out, and to ignite, on the hot exhaust pipes of the motor. the destruction of this monoplane was, to me, a great disappointment. no other machine of the type was in existence, and i learned that it would take three months to build one. m. bleriot promised, however, to put a machine in hand at once; and, as a special concession, i obtained permission to go daily to the bleriot factory and superintend the construction of my own machine. this i did for a full period of three months, working daily from a.m. to p.m., and gaining some valuable knowledge as to aeroplane construction. on november , , after delays which had tried my patience sorely, i obtained delivery of the new machine--a replica of the craft that had been destroyed at rheims. it was too late that day to begin any trials, so i and a friend who was with me arranged with m. bleriot's mechanics that we would be at issy-les-moulineaux early next morning, and there put the craft through its preliminary tests. i can remember we went to bed early, but sleep was impossible; we were both too excited at the prospect that lay before us. so presently we got up--this was at a.m.--and drove out to the flying ground. it was pitch dark when we arrived at the aerodrome, but the morning promised to be favourable. foggy it was; but there was no wind, and the fog seemed likely to clear. we roused the caretaker, and, after lengthy explanations and considerable monetary persuasion, induced him to open the shed and allow us to prepare the machine for its first flight. then we waited for the mechanics and the first rays of dawn. we felt a desire to get the big engine started up, but had been warned of the risk of doing this without the help of mechanics. time passed and still the mechanics did not come. at last, there being now sufficient light, we tied the aeroplane with ropes to a fence, so as to prevent its leaping forward, and then started up the motor by ourselves. i swung the nine-foot propeller--the only way of starting the engine; and at the first quarter-turn the motor began to fire. then, as is quite usual, there was an incident that had been unforeseen in our excitement. we had forgotten to take up the slack of the rope; and the consequence was that, as the engine started, the machine gave a bound forward that was sufficient to knock me down. but i was unhurt, and picked myself up quickly. then i hurried round to the driving seat and took my place at the control levers, motioning to my friend, who was looking after the ropes, to cast these loose and jump into the seat beside me. this was easier said than done. directly he released the ropes the machine began to move across the ground, gathering speed very quickly; but he managed somehow, before the machine was running too fast, to scramble into the seat beside me. off we started across the aerodrome, the monoplane gaining a speed of or miles an hour. i did not attempt to rise from the ground, feeling it very necessary at first to grow familiar with the controls. so we sped along the ground for a distance of about a mile. then, on nearing the far end, i slowed down the motor and our speed dropped to about miles an hour. i wanted to turn the machine round on the ground and run back again towards our starting point. but such a manoeuvre, particularly for the novice, is far from easy. as the speed of the machine is reduced, the pressure of air on the rudder is lessened and so it loses its efficiency--in the same way that a ship is difficult to steer when she begins to lose way. we were faced also by another and a graver difficulty. confused by the fog, which still hung over the aerodrome, i had misjudged our position. we found we were much nearer the end of the ground than i had imagined. in front of us there loomed suddenly a boundary wall, against which it seemed probable we should dash ourselves. there were no brakes on the machine; no way of checking it from the driving seat. our position seemed critical. it was now that i shouted to my friend, telling him to jump out of the machine as best he could, and catch hold of the wooden framework behind the planes, allowing the machine to drag him along the ground, and so using the weight of his body as a brake. this, with great dexterity, he managed to do, and we came to a standstill not more than a foot or so from the wall. this proved a chastening experience; we pictured our aeroplane dashed against the wall, and reduced to a mass of wreckage. very cautiously we lifted round the tail of the machine. it was impossible to switch off the motor and have a rest, because, if we had stopped it, we should not have been able to start it again without our gear, which was away on the other side of the ground. now, having got the machine into position for a return trip across the aerodrome, i accelerated the engine, and we started off back. for about twenty minutes, without further incident, we ran to and fro; and now i felt that i had the machine well in control--on the ground at any rate. and so the next thing was to rise from the ground into the air. i told my friend my intention, calling to him above the noise of the motor; and i admired him for the calm way in which he received my news. i should not have been surprised if he had demanded that i should slow up the machine and let him scramble out. in those days it was thought dangerous to go up even with a skilled and more or less experienced pilot. how much greater, therefore, must have seemed the risk of making a trial flight with me--a complete novice in the control of a machine. but my friend nodded and sat still in his seat. so i accelerated the motor and raised very slightly our rear elevating plane. and then we felt we were off the ground! there was no longer any sensation of our contact with the earth--no jolting, no vibration. in a moment or so, it seemed, the monoplane was passing through the air at a height of about feet. this, to our inexperienced eyes, appeared a very great altitude; and i made up my mind at once to descend. this manoeuvre, that of making contact with the ground after a flight, i had been told was the most difficult of all. it is not surprising that this should be so. our speed through the air was, at the moment, about miles an hour; and to bring a machine to the ground when it is moving so fast, without a violent shock or jar, is a manoeuvre needing considerable judgment. but, remembering that the main thing was to handle the control lever gently, i managed to get back again to the aerodrome without accident; and after this we turned the machine round again and made another flight. the fog had cleared by now, and we were surprised to see a number of people running across the ground towards us. first there came the tardy mechanics; and with them were a number of reporters and photographers representing the paris newspapers. these latter had--though i only found this out afterwards--been brought by the mechanics in the expectation of being able to record, with their notebooks and cameras, some catastrophe in which we were expected to play the leading parts. knowing the powerful type of monoplane i had acquired, a machine not suited for a novice, the mechanics had felt sure some disaster would overtake me. but, as it happened, their anticipations were not fulfilled. the journalists and photographers did not, however, have a fruitless journey. though there was nothing gruesome to chronicle, they found ample material, when they learned of them, in the early morning adventures of myself and my friend with this h.p. monoplane. next day, in fact, our exploits were given prominence in the newspapers, and i received a number of congratulatory telegrams; not forgetting one of a slightly different character which came from m. bleriot. he was flying at the time in vienna, and he warned me of the dangers of such boldness as i had displayed--having regard to the speed and power of my machine--and pleaded with me for a greater caution. chapter iv the controlling of latest-type craft people are puzzled, often, when they try to explain to themselves how it is that an aeroplane, which is so much heavier than air, manages to leave the ground and to soar in flight. when balloons or airships ascend, it is realised of course that the gas, imprisoned within their envelopes, draws them upward. but the aeroplane--weighing with pilot, passenger, and fuel perhaps several thousand pounds--rises without the aid of a gas-bag and with nothing to sustain it but narrow planes; and these do not beat, like the wings of a bird, but are fixed rigidly on either side of its body. how is the weight of machine and man borne through this element we cannot see, and which appears intangible? the secret is speed--the sheer pace at which an aeroplane passes through the air. as a craft stands on the ground, its planes are inoperative. power lies dormant in the air, but only when it is in motion, or when some object or apparatus is propelled through it at high speed. have you stood on a height, in a gale, and felt an air wave strike powerfully against your body? the blow is invisible; but you yield a step, gasping; and, had you wings at such a moment, you would not doubt the power of the wind to sweep you upward. this is the force the aeroplane utilises. if, on a calm day, you accelerate your motor-car to miles an hour, the air sweeps past you in a powerful stream; just as it would if you were standing still, and there was a gale of wind. instead of the wind possessing the speed, in this instance, it is you who provide it. the motor of an aeroplane, driving the propeller of the machine, turns this at or more revolutions a minute, and causes its curved blades to screw forward through the air as they turn, like those of a ship's propeller through water--or a gimlet into wood. the propeller, as it bores its way into the air, draws or pushes the aeroplane across the ground; and the speed grows rapidly until the air, sweeping with an increasing pressure beneath the planes, becomes sufficient to bear the craft in flight. but the wing of an aeroplane would not sustain its load unless designed specially to act upon the air. a man, if he is unlucky enough to fall from a tall building, passes through the air at a high speed. his body obtains no support from the air; so he crashes to the ground. this is because his body is heavy, and presents only a small surface to the air. to secure a lifting influence from the air, it must be struck swiftly with a large, light surface. men go to nature when building wings for aeroplanes, and imitate the birds. the wing of a bird arches upward from front to back, most of the curve occurring near the forward edge; and this shape, when applied to an aeroplane wing, is known as its camber. with an aeroplane wing, if its curve is adjusted precisely, the air not only thrusts up from below as a machine passes through it, but has a lifting influence also from above; an effect that is secured by the downward slope of the plane towards its rear edge. the air, sweeping above the raised front section of the plane, is deflected upward, and with such force that it cannot descend again immediately and follow the downward curve of the surface. so, between this swiftly-moving air stream, and the slope to the rear of the plane, a partial vacuum is formed, and this sucks powerfully upward. with a single wing, therefore, it is possible to gain a double lifting influence--one above and one below. the building of aeroplanes, once their wing lift is known, becomes a matter of precision. according to the speed at which they fly, and the size and curve of their planes, machines will sustain varying loads. in some machines, as a general illustration--craft which fly fast--the planes may bear a load equal to lbs. per square foot. in others the loading may be less than lbs. per square foot. apart from raising a craft into the air, by the lifting power of its wings, there is the problem of controlling it when in flight. the air is treacherous, quickly moving. gusts of abnormal strength, sweeping up as they do invisibly, may threaten to overturn a machine and dash it to earth. eddies are formed between layers of warm and cold air. there are, as a craft flies, constant increases or lessenings of pressure in the air-stream that is sweeping under and over its wings; and all these fluctuations influence its equilibrium. unless, therefore, a machine is automatically stable--and with craft of this type we shall deal later--the pilot must be ready, by a movement of the surfaces which govern the flight of the machine, to counteract quickly, with a suitable action of his levers, the overturning influence that may be exercised by a gust of wind. here lies the art of flying. a man is given a machine which, by the action of its motor and propeller, will raise itself into the air; and it is his task, when the craft is once aloft, to manipulate it accurately and without accident, and to bring it to earth safely after he has made a flight. in the description of controlling movements which follows we shall, for the sake of convenience, and for the sake also of brevity, deal only with the type of "pusher" biplane to which reference has been made already, and on which large numbers of pupils have been, and are being, trained to fly. this casts no aspersion whatever on tractor machines or on monoplanes. on either, if he has an inclination, a pupil can undergo his instruction, and do so usually with success. but explanation is rendered more easy, and there is less likelihood of a dispersal of interest, if one machine is selected for illustration; and our reasons for the choice of a "pusher" biplane, regarded from the point of view of tuition, have been explained already. first, therefore, one may deal with raising the craft into the air, and causing it to descend. in the photograph of the school machine shown facing this page, it will be seen that the control surfaces are indicated by lettering. in front of the biplane, on outriggers, is the plane "a." this surface (aided in its action by a rear plane) governs the rise or descent of the machine. when the motor is started, and the propeller drives the biplane across the ground on its chassis b, the machine would, if this lifting plane was held in a negative position, continue to move forward on the earth and would make no attempt to rise. in order to leave the ground, when the speed of the machine is sufficient for its main-planes (c.c.) to become operative, and bear its weight through the air, the pilot draws back slightly towards him a lever, which is placed just to the right of his driving-seat and is held with the right hand. a photograph which shows this lever, and the other controls, appears facing page , the lever to which we are referring being indicated by the figure . the effect on the aircraft when the pilot draws back this lever--the motion being slight and made gently--is to tilt up the elevating plane a, and this in its turn, owing to the pressure of air upon it, raises the front of the machine. the result of this alteration in the angle of the craft is that it presents its main-planes at a steeper angle to the air. their lifting influence is increased, with the result that--at an angle governed by the pilot with his movement of the elevating plane--they bear the machine from the ground into the air. [illustration: grahame-white school biplane (type xv.) _photo by topical press agency._ a.--the front elevating plane, which acts in conjunction with the rear-plane marked a ; b.--the landing-chassis; c.c.--the main-planes; d.d.--the ailerons; e.e.--the rudders; f.--engine (a -h.p. le rhone) and propeller.] a reverse movement of the elevator reduces the lift of the main-planes; hence, when an aviator wishes to descend, he tilts down his elevator, bringing his machine at such an angle that it is inclined towards the ground. then, switching off his engine so as to moderate the speed of his descent, and by such manipulations as may be necessary of his elevator, he pilots his craft to earth in a vol-plané, during which gravity takes the place of his motor, and he is able--by steadying his machine and bringing it into a horizontal position just at the right moment--to make a gentle contact with the ground. a pilot must be able to do more than cause his aeroplane to ascend and to alight: he must have means to check the lateral movements which, under the influence of wind gusts, may develop while the biplane is in flight. at the rear extremities of the main-planes as illustrated in the photograph facing page --and marked d.d.--are flaps, or ailerons, which are hinged so that they may be either raised or lowered. these ailerons are operated, through the medium of wires, by the same hand-lever which governs the movement of the elevator. this lever is mounted on a universal joint, and can be moved from side to side as well as to and fro. should the biplane tilt, while flying, say towards the left, the pilot moves his hand-lever sideways towards the right. this is a natural movement, the instinct being to move the lever away from the direction in which the machine is heeling. this movement of the lever has the effect of drawing down the ailerons on the left-hand side of the machine; on the side, that is to say, which is tilted down; and the depression of these auxiliary surfaces, increasing suddenly as they do the lifting influence of the main-planes to which they are attached, tend to thrust up the down-tilted wings, and so restore the equilibrium of the machine. in the operation of his ailerons, combined with the use of his elevator, a pilot is given means to balance his craft while in flight. one should not gain the impression that an aeroplane is threatening ceaselessly to heel this way and that. this is not so. the machine has a large measure of stability, apart from any manipulation of its controls, and needs balancing only when some disturbance of the atmosphere affects its equilibrium. under favourable conditions, such as a pupil will experience in his first flights, nothing more is necessary with the hand-lever than a very slight but fairly constant action; a similar motion, in a way, as is made by the driver of a motor-car when he maintains, by his "feel" on the wheel, his sense of control over the machine. in the controlling actions of an aeroplane--and this is a fact which tends sometimes to the confusion of the novice--nothing more is required, normally, than the most delicate of movements. the difference say between ascending, and skimming along the ground, is represented by a movement of the hand-lever of only a few inches. delicate, sure, quick, and firm; such is the touch needed with an aeroplane. with the one hand-lever, as we have shown, it is possible for a pilot to control the rise and descent, and also the lateral movements of his machine; and there remains only the steering to be effected--the movement from side to side, from right to left, or vice-versa. at the rear of the biplane, as shown facing page , will be seen two vertical planes, e.e. these, being hinged, will swing from side to side; and they exercise a sufficient influence, when working in the strong current of air that blows upon them when a machine is in flight, to steer it accurately in any direction. the pilot, to operate this rudder, rests his feet on a conveniently-placed bar, which is mounted on a central swivel, and allows the bar to be swung by a pressure of either foot. when the pilot needs to make a turn say to the left, as he is flying, he presses his left foot forward. this swings the bar in same direction; and, by a simple connection of wires running to the tail of the machine, the rudders are made to swing over to the left also, and the machine turns in response to them. a similar movement to the right produces a right-hand turn. this foot rudder bar, being numbered , is shown in the picture facing page . [illustration: the controls of a school biplane. _photo by topical press agency._ .--the upright lever which, working on a universal joint, operates the elevator and ailerons; .--the bar, actuated by the pilot's feet, which operates the rudders of the machine; .--the pilot's seat; .--the passenger's seat.] apart from the movements we have described, which are extremely simple, a pilot needs also to maintain control over his motor. near his left hand, fixed to the framework just at one side of his seat, are levers which govern the speed of the engine, also the petrol supply; while close to them is the switch by which the ignition can be switched on or off. a final word is necessary here, perhaps, and it is this: the glamour and mystery which, in the early days, clung to the handling of an aeroplane has now been dispelled almost entirely. a well-constructed machine, flying under favourable conditions, requires surprisingly little control; what it does, one may almost say, is to fly itself. chapter v the stages of tuition flying schools--those which really can be described as such--have been in operation now for seven years; and during this time, with thousands of pupils going through their period of tuition, many very valuable lessons have naturally been learned. to-day, at a well-managed school, each stage in a pupil's instruction, mapped out as a result of experience, is arranged methodically and with care; the idea being that the novice should pass from one stage to another by a smoothly-graduated scale, facilitating his progress and reducing elements of risk. it is in the early morning, and again in the evening, that the flying schools are most busy as a rule. at such times--morning and evening--the wind blows with least violence; and it is very necessary that a pupil, when he is handling craft for the first time, should have weather conditions which are favourable. summer and winter, as soon as it is light, and granted conditions appear suitable, mechanics wheel the aeroplanes from the sheds, and the instructors begin their work. should there be any doubt as to the weather, or as to the existence, say, of difficult air currents, an instructor will fly first, circling above the aerodrome at various heights, and satisfying himself, by the behaviour of his machine, whether it will be safe for the novices to ascend. if he pronounces "all well," school work begins in earnest, and continues--provided the weather remains favourable--until all the pupils have had a spell of instruction. towards the middle of the day, and in the afternoon, it is quite likely the wind may blow and school work be suspended. but in the evening again, when there is usually a lull, a second period of instruction will be carried out. in well-equipped schools, to meet such conditions as these, it is customary to provide two complete and distinct staffs, both of instructors and mechanics. one staff takes the morning spell of work, while the second is held in readiness for the evening. this ensures that, both morning and evening, there shall be available for instruction a fresh, alert, and unfatigued staff. [illustration: rear view of a school biplane. _photo by topical press agency._ this photograph shows clearly the hinged ailerons fixed at the extremities of the plane-ends for maintaining lateral stability: also the rear elevating plane (which acts in conjunction with the fore-plane mounted on outriggers at the front of the machine) and the twin rudders.] a pupil will find that, as the first stage of his tuition, he is given the task of familiarising himself with the controls of a school biplane. the system we have described already, and a pupil should find no difficulty in mastering it. placing himself in the driving-seat of the machine, while it is at rest on the ground, the pupil takes the upright lever in his right hand, and rests his feet on the rudder-bar, making the various movements of control, again and again, until he finds he is growing accustomed to them, and can place his levers in a position for an ascent or descent, or for a turn, without having to wait while he thinks what it is necessary to do. in the next stage, a more interesting one, the pupil, occupying a seat immediately behind his instructor, is taken for a series of passenger flights. these accustom him to the sensation of being in the air, and also train his eye in judging heights and distances. a minor point the pupil should bear in mind, though his instructor will be quick to remind him, is not to wear any cap or scarf that may blow free in the rush of wind and become entangled with the propeller. scarves need to be tightly wrapped; while it is usual, with a cap, to turn it with the peak to the back, and so prevent it from having a tendency to lift from the head. many pupils provide themselves with a helmet designed to protect the head in case of an accident, and these are held firmly in position. should a passenger's cap blow off, and come in contact with the propeller, it may be the cause of an accident. how carelessness may lead to trouble, in this regard, will be gathered from the following incident. some slight repairs had been made one day to the lower plane of a machine while it stood out on the aerodrome, and one of the workmen, through inadvertence, had left lying on the plane, near its centre, a roll of tape. the pilot decided to make another flight, and the motor was started and the machine rose. suddenly the aviator was startled by a sound like a loud report, which seemed to come from the rear of his machine. the craft trembled for a moment, and he feared a structural collapse. nothing worse happened, however, and he was able to pilot his machine in safety to the aerodrome. what had happened, it was then ascertained, was that the roll of tape, sucked back in the rush of wind, had been drawn into the revolving propeller and had broken a piece out of it. luckily the impact had not been heavy enough to damage the propeller seriously, or cause it to fly to pieces. a problem with which the pupil will be faced in his first flights, particularly if he is learning in winter, will be that of keeping himself warm. the speed at which an aeroplane travels, combined with the fact that it is at an elevation above the ground, renders the "bite" of the cold air all the more keen, and makes it difficult very frequently, even when one is warmly clad, to maintain a sufficient warmth in the body, and particularly in the hands and feet. the question of cold hands is, from a pilot's point of view, often a serious one. there is a case on record of an aviator who, his hands being so numbed that his fingers refused to move, found he could not switch off his motor when the time came to descend; and so he had to fly round above the aerodrome, several times, while he worked his numb fingers to and fro, and beat some life into them against his body. at last, having restored their circulation to some extent, he was able to operate the switch and make a landing. while on active service in winter, after flying several hours at high altitudes, and in bitter cold, the occupants of a machine have descended in such a numbed condition, despite their heavy garments, that it has been found necessary to lift them out of their seats. but a pupil need not face such hardships as these. he will be flying for short periods only, and at low altitudes; so if he makes a few wise purchases from among the selection of flying gear now available, and particularly if he equips himself with some good gloves, he should be able to keep sufficiently warm in the air, even if he is going through his training in winter. [illustration: power-plant of a school biplane. _photo by topical press agency._ showing the -h.p. le rhone motor, with its mounting on the machine, and the method of attaching the propeller. the fuel tank is also visible; and, forward at the front of the machine, the seats of passenger and pilot.] a pupil will feel curious, naturally, as to his sensations in the first flights he makes with his instructor. of the exact moment when the machine leaves ground he will be unaware probably, save for the cessation of any jolting or vibration, such as may be caused by the contact of the running wheels with the surface of the aerodrome. his first clearly-marked sensation, when in actual flight, will occur most likely when the pilot rises a little sharply, so as to gain altitude. then the pupil will have a feeling one might liken to the ascent, in a motor-car, of a steep and suddenly-encountered hill; though in this case the hill is invisible, and there is no earth contact to be felt. this sensation of climbing is exhilarating; and when the pilot makes a reverse movement, descending towards the ground, the feeling is pleasant enough also, provided the dive is not too steep. the pupil's chief sensation, probably, will be that of the rush of wind which beats against him. some people feel this much more than others. there is sometimes a feeling--it is no more than temporary--of inconvenience and of shock. the pupil feels as though his breathing was being interfered with seriously; as though the pressure was so great he could not expel air from his lungs. but this sensation, even when it is experienced, is short-lived. in a second flight, quite often, the novice finds that this oppression diminishes very perceptibly; and soon he does not notice it at all. motoring experience proves useful here, particularly high-speed driving on a track. some confusion is felt by the pupil, as a rule, and this is only natural, in regard to the pace at which the aeroplane travels through the air, and at the way in which the ground seems to be tearing away below. occasionally, in a first flight, this impression of speed, and of height, produce in the pupil a sensation of physical discomfort; but it is one again which, in the majority of cases, is quickly overcome. a few balloon trips are a useful preliminary to flights in an aeroplane. they familiarise one in a pleasant way with the sensation of height, and accustom the eye also to the look of the ground, as it passes away below. while he is making his first flights with the instructor, and apart from analysing his sensations, the pupil will observe the lever movements made by the pilot in controlling the machine; and the fact that will impress itself upon him, as he watches these movements, is that they are not made roughly or spasmodically, but are almost invariably gentle. during these flights as a passenger, and after he has accustomed himself to the novelty of being in the air, the pupil will be allowed by the instructor to lean forward and place his hand on the control lever; and in this way, by actually following and feeling for himself the control actions the pilot makes, he will gain an idea of just the extent to which the lever must be moved, to gain any specific result in the flight of the machine. [illustration: motor and other gear--another view. _photo by topical press agency._ this shows the constructional unit that is formed, on a suitably strong framework of wood, by the engine, propeller, and fuel tank, and also by the seats for the pilot and passenger.] the next stage of tuition is that in which a pupil is allowed to handle a biplane alone, not in flight though but only in "rolling" practice on the ground--driving the machine to and fro across the aerodrome. the motor is adjusted so that, while it gives sufficient power to drive the machine on the ground and render the control surfaces effective, it will not permit the craft to rise into the air. this stage, a very necessary one, teaches the pupil, from his own unaided experience just what movements he must make with his levers to influence the control surface of the machine, and to maintain it, say, on a straight path while it runs across the ground. one of the discoveries he will make is that the biplane, if left to itself, shows a tendency to swerve a little to the left--the way the propeller is turning; but this inclination may be corrected, easily, by a movement of the rudder. the pupil learns also to accustom himself, while in this stage, to the engine controls which have been explained already; and he is not likely to be guilty of the error of one excitable novice who, while driving his machine back on the ground towards the sheds at an aerodrome, after his first experience in "rolling" became so confused, as he saw the buildings looming before him, that he lost his head completely and forgot to switch off his motor. the result was that the aeroplane, unchecked in its course, crashed into some railings in front of the sheds and stood on its head. not much damage was done however, and the novice was unhurt. he seemed as surprised as anyone at what had happened, and confessed that, for the moment, his mind had been an utter blank. a pupil continues his practice in "rolling" till he can drive his machine to and fro across the aerodrome on a straight course, and with its tail raised off the ground; the latter action being obtained by the pupil by means of a suitable movement of the vertical lever which operates his elevating planes. now comes the time when a pupil, taking the pilot's seat, and with the instructor sitting behind him--so as to be ready, if necessary, to correct any error the novice may make--begins his first short flights across the aerodrome. he rises only a few feet to begin with, and flies on a straight course, alighting each time before he turns, and running his machine round on the ground. he repeats this test until his instructor feels he is sufficiently expert to take the machine into the air alone. when this stage is reached, the instructor leaves his position behind the pupil, and the latter goes on with his practice till he can fly the length of the aerodrome alone, landing neatly and bringing his machine round on the ground, and then flying back again to his starting point. in the early days of flying schools, before a pupil went through any regular system of instruction, there were remarkable incidents in regard to these first flights. in one case a pupil, having bought his own aeroplane from the proprietors of a school, insisted on having installed in it a motor of exceptional power. when the time came for him to make his first flight alone, and he opened the throttle of this engine and it began to give its full power, the aeroplane ran only a short distance across the ground, and then leapt into the air. the engine was in charge of the machine, in fact, and not the pupil. away above the aerodrome, and beyond its limits, in a strange, erratic flight, the biplane made its way. as the pupil struggled valiantly with his engine switch, which appeared to have become jammed, he made unconscious and jerky movements of his control levers. one moment the machine would ascend a little, the next it would approach nearer the ground; then it would swing either right or left. those watching from the aerodrome held their breath. but with the luck of the beginner, a luck which is proverbial and sometimes amazing, the pupil managed at length to stop his motor and land without accident--though by no means gracefully--in an abrupt gliding descent. [illustration: pupil and instructor ready for a flight. _photo by topical press agency._ the pupil, occupying in this case the driving seat, has in his right hand the lever controlling the elevator and ailerons, while his feet are on the bar which operates the rudder. the instructor (in the passenger's seat) is demonstrating how, when necessary, he can place his hand on the control lever, above that of the pupil, and correct any error in manipulation of which the latter may be guilty.] another story concerns one of those temperamentally reckless, happy-go-lucky men who, though providence seems to watch over them, are an anxiety nevertheless to their instructors. this pupil, breaking the rules of a school, flew out on one of his first flights beyond the limits of the aerodrome, disappearing indeed from the view of those near the sheds. not far from the aerodrome lay a main road, with tramway-lines along it. a tram, with passengers on top, happened to be passing down the road; and it was to the astonishment of these passengers, and to their perturbation as well, that they observed an aeroplane in full flight, moving very low across a neighbouring field, and bearing down straight towards them. the machine passed, indeed, unpleasantly close above their heads, and then vanished as dramatically as it had appeared. its pilot, as may be guessed, was the pupil who had disobeyed orders, and was now on a wild and erratic flight. presently, after swerves and wanderings over the surrounding country, he was discerned making his way back towards the aerodrome, still flying unreasonably low. some trees bordered one end of the aerodrome; and towards these, as though he meant to finish his exploit by charging into them, the novice was seen to be steering an undeviating course. nearer he came to them, and still he did not turn either right or left. the instructor, and those gathered with him, made up their minds that nothing could avert an accident. but it happened that there was, between two of the trees, a space only large enough for an aeroplane to pass through. a skilled pilot, a man of experience, would not have cared to risk his machine in an endeavour to creep between those trees. but this pupil, a complete novice, steered boldly towards the opening and slipped through it with a precision that would have aroused the envy of an accomplished pilot. then he landed on the aerodrome and climbed in leisurely fashion from his machine--"not having turned a hair," as the saying goes. the remarks of the instructor when he neared the machine, and began to unburden himself, do not appear to be on record, and no doubt this is as well. having shown his ability to make a succession of straight flights, taking his machine into the air with precision and landing without awkwardness, the pupil finds himself faced next with the problem of turning while in the air. on this stage, however, he is not allowed to embark alone. the instructor takes his place again in the passenger's seat, so as to be ready to help the novice should he become confused, or find himself in any difficulty. turns to the left are attempted first; and the reason is that, the propeller of the aeroplane revolving to the left--and the motor too if it is a rotary one--the machine has a tendency which is natural to turn in this direction. half turns only are tried at first, the pupil landing before he has completed the movement. in making these first turns a pupil finds that, apart from his action with the rudder-bar, it is necessary to employ the ailerons slightly, so as to prevent the biplane from tilting sideways. the outer plane-ends of the machine have indeed, when a turn is being made, a natural tendency to "bank" as it is called, or tilt upward; the reason being that, as the machine swings round, these outer plane-ends, moving faster for the moment than the wing-tips on the inside of the turn, exercise a greater lift, and have an inclination to rise. an experienced aviator, having learned what is a safe "banking" angle, makes a deliberate use of this tendency when he is turning, and may on occasion even exaggerate it, to facilitate the swing of his machine on a very rapid turn, and to prevent it skidding outwards. but with the novice, engrossed completely as he is with the mere problem of getting his machine round in the air, "banking" is an art that must be deferred for awhile. it is perilously easy, for a beginner, to overstep the danger-line between a safe "bank" and a side-slip. [illustration: pupil and instructor in flight ( ). _photo by topical press agency._ a school biplane is seen just after it has left the ground, with the pupil at the control levers, and the instructor seated behind him--ready, if necessary, to correct any error the novice may make.] it is not long before the pupil can make a full left-hand turn; and then he goes on to perfect himself in this movement, flying alone now, and repeating the turn till he feels he can make it with confidence, and at a fair height. and now he comes to his final evolutions. having mastered the left-hand turn, he proceeds to make one to the right. it used to be the contention--a contention that is now disputed--that in this movement, if the pupil employed his rudder-bar only, he would find the biplane showed an inclination to rise; a tendency due to the gyroscopic influence of the engine and propeller which--assuming a rotary engine is used--are now revolving in the opposite direction to that on which the machine is turned. what the pupil was recommended to do, in order to counteract this rising movement, was to tilt down his elevator a little, as he would in making a descent. when right-hand turns can be made with the same facility as those to the left, the pupil begins to combine the two without descending, making left turns and right turns, and so achieving in the air a series of figures of eight. he learns also to fly a little higher, thus preparing himself for one of his certificate tests. there are now certain very important rules which, in the navigation of his craft, he must accustom himself to bear constantly in mind. should the engine of his machine, for example, betray any signs of failing, he must tilt down his elevator very promptly, and place his craft in a position for a descent. if he does not do this, and should the motor stop before he has his biplane at an angle for descent, the machine may lose speed so quickly, and its tail-planes show such a tendency to droop--owing to the lessening of pressure on their surfaces, consequent upon the failure of the motor--that there is a risk of the craft coming to a standstill in the air and then either falling tail-first, or beginning a side-slip that may bring it crashing to the ground. the pupil must learn also, and this again is important, not to force his machine round on a turn while it is climbing. if he does so the power absorbed in the ascent, combined with the resistance of the turn, may so reduce the speed of the machine that it threatens to become "stalled," or reach a standstill in the air, with the result that it either side-slips or falls tail-first. the procedure the pupil is taught to follow is this: when he leaves the ground he climbs a little, then he allows his machine to move straight ahead; then he proceeds to ascend again for a spell, repeating afterwards the horizontal flight. in this way he ascends by a series of steps, like climbing a succession of hills in a car; and his turns should be made only during the spells when he is flying horizontally. in this stage of his tuition, the pupil must learn also to make a vol-plané, or descent with his engine stopped. the essential point to be borne in mind, here, is that an aeroplane will continue in flight, and remain under control, even when it is no longer propelled by its engine. but what the aviator must do, should his engine stop through a breakdown, or should he himself switch it off, is to bring the force of gravity to his aid, and maintain the flying speed of his craft by directing it in a glide towards the ground. provided he does this, and keeps his machine at such an inclination that it is moving at a sufficient speed through the air, he will find that the craft maintains its stability and that he has full command over its control surfaces, being able to turn, say, right or left, or either increase or slightly decrease the steepness of his descent. but all the time, of course, seeing that it is gravity alone which is giving him his flying speed, he is obliged to plane downward. [illustration: pupil and instructor in flight ( ). _photo by topical press agency._ this shows clearly how the instructor, from his seat behind the pupil, can lean forward and, by placing his hand on the control lever, check the novice in an error of manipulation.] a vital point to remember, when a pupil is handling a "pusher" type of biplane, is to incline the machine well downward, by a use of the elevator, before switching off the motor. unless this is done, and if the machine is, say, at its normal horizontal angle when the engine is stopped, the sudden removal of pressure from the tail-planes of the craft, brought about by the absence of the wind-draught from the propeller, may cause the tail so to droop as to render inoperative any subsequent action of the elevator. when the tail droops, the main-planes are set at a steep angle to the air, and this has a slowing-up influence on the whole machine. it threatens therefore to stand still in the air; its controls become useless; and the pupil is faced probably with the danger of a side-slip. a story will illustrate this point; and it is one that has a special significance, seeing that the error which might have cost him his life was made by an aviator of experience. he had learned to fly on a monoplane, and had devoted his subsequent flying, for many months, to this one type of machine. then he found himself associated with an enterprise in which a number of "pusher" biplanes were employed, and he decided that it would be useful for him to become accustomed to this type of machine. his flying experience of course helped him, and he soon found himself passing to and fro above the aerodrome, the biplane well in hand. then he thought he would make a vol-plané, with his motor stopped, as he had been in the habit of doing in a monoplane. he switched off his engine without further thought, and moved his elevator to a position for the descent. but it was here that he made the mistake. in a monoplane, which has the weight of the engine and other gear well forward in the machine, the bow has a natural tendency to tilt down when the motor is cut off--particularly as the propeller-draught ceases to sweep under the sustaining planes. therefore one can, in such a machine, switch off safely without first shifting the elevator, and getting the bow down as a preliminary. what the pilot had forgotten, for the moment, was the essential difference between monoplane and biplane. when he had switched off the engine in the biplane, and moved his elevator as he was accustomed to do, he found to his dismay that the machine failed to respond. instead of pointing its bow down, indeed, it began to tilt rearward. also, and this fact was noted by the airman with even more dismay, the craft lost forward speed so rapidly that it became uncontrollable. the next moment, the pilot helpless in his seat, the machine began a side-slip towards the ground. one sweep it made sideways, falling till it was not far short of the surface of the aerodrome. it paused an instant, then began a side-slip in the opposite direction. but here good fortune came to the pilot's aid. in this second swing, the machine being near the ground, it came in contact with the surface of the aerodrome before the "slip" had time to develop any high rate of speed. the biplane took the ground sideways, breaking its landing-chassis and damaging the plane-ends which came first in contact with the earth. but the pilot emerged from the wreckage unhurt. the accident was a lesson to him, though, as it was to others, and as it should be to all pupils. a machine must be in a gliding position before the engine is switched off. the art of the accomplished pilot, granted there is no reason for him to reach earth quickly, is to glide at as fine an angle as is possible, consistent of course with maintaining the speed of the machine through the air, and so preserving his command over its controls. a beautifully-timed, fine glide, the machine stealing down gracefully, and touching the aerodrome light as a feather, at a precise spot the airman has decided on even when he was several thousand feet high, is a delightful spectacle for the onlooker, and a keen pleasure also--from the point of view of his manipulative skill--to the aviator himself. but a pupil, at any rate in his first attempts, must not concern himself too much with any idea of a fine or graceful glide. it is his business to get to the ground safely, and not trouble too much whether his method is accomplished, or merely effective. once with the bow of his machine down, and his motor switched off, it must be his concern to maintain the forward speed of his machine, which can be done only by holding it well on its dive. for the novice, if he attempts any fine or fancy gliding, there is the very real danger that, in his inexperience, he may lose forward speed to such an extent that his controls become inoperative, and his machine threatens to side-slip. one's ear should, apart from the inclination of the machine, and the sensation of the descent, help one materially in judging the speed of a glide. there is a "swish" that comes to the ear, now the engine is no longer making its clamour, which gives a guide to the pace of one's downward movement. aviators who are skilled, and have done a large amount of flying, are able to judge with accuracy, by the ear alone and without the aid of a mechanical indicator, what their speed is as they pass through the air. [illustration: pupil and instructor in flight ( ). _photo by topical press agency._ here the pupil is descending in a glide with his engine stopped, the cylinders of the rotary motor being clearly visible.] having held his machine firmly on its glide, till it is quite near the surface of the aerodrome, the pupil has next to think of making a neat contact with the ground. the art here is, at a moment which must be gauged accurately, to check the descent of the machine by a movement of the elevator--to "flatten out," as the expression goes. if the movement is made neatly the craft should, when only a few feet from the ground, change from a descent into horizontal flight, and continue on this horizontal flight for a short distance, losing speed naturally each moment--seeing that there is no driving power behind it--and so losing altitude also through its decrease in speed, until its wheels come lightly in contact with the ground, and it runs forward and then stands still. what the novice may do, if he is not careful, is to "flatten out" when he is too high above the ground. the result is that the machine slows up till it stands still in the air, robbed of its speed, and then makes what is called a "pancake" landing: it descends vertically, that is to say, instead of making contact with the ground at a fine angle and with its planes still supporting it; and the effect of such a "pancake," if the machine comes down with any force, may be that the landing-chassis is damaged, or perhaps wrecked. but as a rule, remembering that he has careful instruction to guide him before he attempts a gliding descent, the pupil masters the art of landing without difficulty, and without mishap. now, after repeating perhaps certain of his evolutions, at the discretion of his instructor, in order to make sure that he can accomplish them with ease, the pupil is ready for the tests which will give him his certificate of proficiency. chapter vi the test flights the sport of aviation is controlled throughout the world, and flying tests and events of a competitive character are governed, by the international aeronautical federation. to the deliberations of this central authority are sent delegates from the aero clubs of various countries; and to these aero clubs, each in its respective country, falls the task of governing flight, according to the rules and decisions of the central authority. in britain, controlling aviation in the same way that the jockey club controls the turf, we have the royal aero club of the united kingdom; and it is this body, acting in its official capacity, which grants to each new aviator, after he has passed certain prescribed tests, a certificate which proclaims him a pilot of proved capacity, and without which it is impossible for him to take part in any contests held under the auspices of the club. the certificate, which is of a convenient size for carrying in the pocket, contains a photograph of the pilot for purposes of identification, and specifies also the rules under which the certificate is issued and held. the theory of these tests, as imposed by the club before it grants its certificates, is that the novice should--so far as is possible in one or two flights, made over a restricted area, and in a limited space of time--be called on to show that he has a full control over a machine in what may be called the normal conditions of flight. he is asked to ascend, for instance, and gain a fair flying altitude; then to make such evolutions as will demonstrate his command over the control surfaces of the machine; and finally to show that he can, with his motor switched off, descend accurately in a vol-plané, and bring his machine to a halt within a specified distance of a mark. the tests are set forth, officially, as follows:-- _a and b._ two distance flights, consisting of at least kilometres ( miles yards) each in a closed circuit, without touching the ground; the distance to be measured as described below. _c._ one altitude flight, during which a height of at least metres ( feet) above the point of departure must be attained; the descent to be made from that height with the motor cut off. the landing must be made in view of the observers, without re-starting the motor. the rules drafted by the club to govern these flights are set forth herewith:-- the candidate must be alone in the aircraft during the tests. the course on which the aviator accomplishes tests a and b must be marked out by two posts situated not more than metres ( yards) apart. the turns round the posts must be made alternately to the right and to the left, so that the flights will consist of an uninterrupted series of figures of eight. the distance flown will be reckoned as if in a straight line between the two posts. the alighting after the two distance flights in tests a and b shall be made:-- (_a_) by stopping the motor at or before the moment of touching the ground. (_b_) by bringing the aircraft to rest not more than metres ( feet) from a point indicated previously to the candidate. all alightings must be made in a normal manner, and the observers must report any irregularity. these flights as specified to-day, though they present no difficulty to the pupil who has been well trained, are more stringent than they were in the first scheme of tests as prescribed by the club, and as enforced for several years. in those early rules the distances were the same as they are to-day, but in the altitude flight the height required was only metres ( feet)--just half the height specified to-day. it was not laid down, either, in the first rules, that the engine should be stopped in this altitude flight when at the maximum height, and that the descent should be made in a complete vol-plané, without once re-starting the motor. as originally framed, indeed, the rule as to the control of the engine in this altitude test was the same as in regard to the distance flights--_i.e._, that it should be stopped "at or before the moment of touching the ground." what the present rule means, in this respect, is that the pupil must be really proficient at making a vol-plané, without any aid at all from his engine, before he can hope to pass the test; and such a proved skill--say in the making of his first cross-country flight, should his engine fail suddenly--may spell the difference between a safe or a dangerous landing. the test flights for the certificate, undertaken only in such weather conditions as the pupil's instructor may think suitable, are watched by official observers appointed by the royal aero club. it is the business of these observers, when the prescribed flights have been made, to send in a written report concerning them to the club; and acting on this report, after it has been considered and shown to be in order, the club issues to the pupil his numbered certificate. with the successful passing of his tests the pupil's tuition is at an end. he is regarded no longer as a novice, but as a qualified pilot. chapter vii perils of the air there are people, very many people, who still regard flying as an undertaking of an unreasonable peril, essayed mainly by those who are in quest of money, notoriety, or sensation at any price. such people--still to be met with--have one mental picture, and one only, of the flight of an aeroplane. they imagine a man in the air--and this mere idea of altitude makes them shudder; and they picture this man in a frail apparatus of wood and wire, capable of breaking to pieces at any moment; or even if it does not break, needing an incessant movement of levers to maintain it in a safe equilibrium; while they reckon also that, should the engine of the machine suffer any breakdown, the craft will drop to earth like a stone. prejudice dies hard; harder no doubt in england than in other countries. there are still people, not few of them but many, who would be ready to declare, offhand, that one aeroplane flight in six ends in a disaster. it is a truism, but one that has a peculiar truth in aviation, to say that history repeats itself. to-day we find large numbers of people who still cherish the opinion that--save perhaps when on service in war--it is nothing less than criminal foolishness for men to ascend in aeroplanes. that attitude of mind persists; the growing safety of flight has not affected it to any appreciable degree. but those eager for the progress of aviation need not despair, or imagine that their particular industry is being treated with any exceptional disapprobation. they have only to look back a little in our history, no great distance, and read of the receptions that were accorded the first pioneers of our railways. public meetings of protest have not been held to condemn aviation; yet they were frequent in the days when the first railways were projected. vast indignation was indeed aroused; it was declared to be against all reason, and a matter of appalling risk, that people should be asked to travel from place to place in such "engines of destruction." but the railways managed to survive this storm. they were placed here and there about the country; they were improved rapidly; and it would be hard, to-day, to find a safer place than the compartment of a railway train. motor-cars, when their turn came, had to go through a similar ordeal. there was the same indignation, the same chorus of protest; and when the first of the pioneers, greatly daring, began actually to drive their cars on the public highway, there were people who believed, and who declared forcibly, that to permit such machines on our roads was the crime of the century. had not these pioneers struggled valiantly, sparing neither time nor money, it is possible that the motor-car might have been driven from the highway. but here again progress, though it was retarded, could not be checked. the motor-car triumphed. it grew rapidly more reliable, more silent, more pleasing to the eye; and to-day it glides in thousands along our roads, a pleasure to those who occupy it, a nuisance neither to pedestrians nor to other wheeled traffic; more under control when it is well driven, and more ready to stop quickly when required, than any horsed vehicle which it may have replaced. at one time the papers were full of such headlines as: "another motor-car accident." each small mishap received prominent attention: and to the majority of people it seemed the wildest folly to travel in such vehicles. yet to-day--such is progress--these same people ride in a motor-car, or a motor-cab, quite as a matter of course and without a thought of risk. when one discusses flying and its dangers, it is essential to maintain an accurate sense of proportion. in the very earliest days, for instance, it must be realised that the few men who then flew--they could be numbered on the fingers of one hand--exercised the greatest caution. they did not fly in high winds; they treated the air, realising its unknown perils, with a very great and a very commendable respect. thus it was that thousands of miles were flown, even with the crudest of these early machines, and with motors that were constantly giving trouble, without serious accident. but after this, and very quickly, the number of airmen grew. new aviators appeared every day; contests were organised extensively; there were large sums of money to be won, provided that one pilot could excel another. and the spirit of caution was abandoned. even while they were still using purely experimental machines--craft of which neither the stability nor the structural strength had been tested adequately--there grew a tendency among airmen to fly in higher winds, to subject their machines to greater strains, and to attempt dangerous manoeuvres so as to please the crowds who paid to see them fly. it was not surprising, therefore, that flying entered upon an era of accidents. such disasters were inevitable--inevitable, that is to say, in view of the tendencies that then prevailed; though it is a melancholy reflection that, had men been content to go ahead with the same slow sureness of the pioneers, many of those lives which were lost could have been saved. to the public, not aware exactly of all that was going on, it appeared as though the navigation of the air, instead of growing safer, was becoming more dangerous. there were suggestions, indeed, made quite seriously and in good faith, that these endeavours to fly should cease; that the law should step in, and prevent any more men from risking their lives. what people failed to realise, when they adopted this view, was that instead of one or two men flying there were now hundreds who navigated the air; that flights in large numbers were being made daily; that thousands of miles instead of hundreds were being traversed by air--and often under conditions the pioneers would have considered far too dangerous. these facts, had they been realised, would have shown people what was actually the true state of affairs; that, though accidents seemed numerous, and were indeed more frequent than they had been in the earliest days of flying, they were as a matter of proportion, reckoning the greater number of men who were flying, and the thousands of miles which were flown, growing steadily less frequent. there was this important fact to be reckoned with also. each accident that happened taught its lesson, and so made for future safety. a considerable number of those early accidents can, for instance, be traced to some structural weakness in a machine. the need in an aircraft then, as now, was lightness; and in those days designers and builders, owing purely to their inexperience, had not learned the art, as they have to-day, of combining lightness with strength. so it was that, as more powerful motors began to be fitted to aeroplanes, and greater speeds were attained, it happened sometimes, when a machine was being driven fast through a wind, that a plane would collapse, and send the machine crashing to the ground; or in making a dive, perhaps, either of necessity or to show his skill, a pilot would subject his machine to such a strain that some part of it would break. from such disasters as a rule, greatly to be regretted though they were, the industry emerged so much the wiser. the strength of machines was increased; the engines which drove them were rendered more reliable; and gradually too, though none too rapidly, the airmen who piloted them grew in knowledge and skill. but all this time, while flying was being made more safe, there were accidents frequently for the papers to report; and this was due entirely to the fact that there were now thousands of men flying, where previously there had been fifties and hundreds. the public could not realise how rapidly the number of airmen had grown; that practically every day, at aerodromes scattered over europe, flights were so frequent that they were becoming a commonplace. it was in , as one of its many services to aviation that the aero club of france was able to show, by means of statistics which could not be questioned, that for every fatality which had occurred in france, during that particular year, a distance of nearly , miles had been flown in safety. the cause of many of the early accidents was, as we have suggested, the breakage of some part of a machine while in flight. in an analysis for instance of thirty-two such disasters, it was shown that fourteen were due to the collapse of sustaining planes, control-surfaces, or some other vital part of a machine. and this risk of breakage in the air was increased, in many cases, by the building of experimental machines by men who had no qualifications for their task, and who erred only too frequently, in their desire to attain lightness, on the side of a lack, rather than an excess, of structural strength. there are many cases, unfortunately, that might be cited; but one may be sufficient here. a man with an idea for a light type of biplane, a machine designed mainly for speed, had an experimental craft built--this was in the pioneer days of --and insisted on fitting to it a motor of considerable power. it was pointed out to him that his construction was not sufficiently strong, in view of the speed at which his machine would pass through the air. but he was of the quiet, determined, self-opinionated type, who pursued his own way and said little. he did not strengthen his constructional, and he began a series of flying tests. in the first of these, which were short, the planes stood up to their work, and the fears of the critics seemed groundless. but a day came when, venturing to some height, the aviator encountered a strong and gusty wind; whereupon one of his main-planes broke, and he fell to his death. as a contrast to this tragedy, and a welcome one, there is a humorous story, that is true, told of one experimenter. his knowledge of construction was small, but what he lacked in this respect he made up for in confidence; and he built a monoplane. this was in the days just after the cross-channel flight, and experimenters all over the world were building monoplanes, some of them machines of the weirdest description. the craft built by this enthusiast seemed all right in its appearance; nothing had been spared, for instance, in the way of varnish. when wheeled into the sun, for its first rolling test under power, it looked an imposing piece of work. friends were in attendance, photographers also; and the would-be aviator was in faultless flying gear. mounting a ladder, which had been placed beside the machine, he allowed his weight to bear upon the fusilage, and proceeded to settle himself in his seat. but he, and the onlookers, were startled as he did so by an ominous cracking of wood. it grew louder; something serious and very unexpected was happening to the machine. as a matter of fact, and just as it stood there without having moved a yard, the whole of the flimsy structure parted in the middle, and the machine settled down ignominiously upon the ground, its back broken, and with the discomfited inventor struggling in the _débris_. it was far from easy, in the early days, for even an expert constructor to calculate the strains encountered under various conditions of flight. in wind pressure, under certain states of the air, there are dangerous fluctuations--fluctuations which, even with the knowledge we possess to-day, and this is far from meagre, exhibit phenomena concerning which much more information is required. machines have collapsed suddenly, while flying on a day when the wind has been uncertain, and have done so in a way which has suggested that they had encountered, suddenly, a gust of an altogether abnormal strength. occasionally, though research work in this field is extremely difficult, it has been possible to gain data as to the existence of conditions, prevalent as a rule over a small area, which would spell grave risk for any aeroplane which encountered them. there is a strange case, verified beyond question, which occurred during some tests with man-lifting kites at farnborough. these kites are strongly built, and withstand as a rule extremely high winds. on this particular day a kite, when it had reached a certain altitude, was seen to crumple up suddenly. the wind did not seem specially strong--not at any rate on the ground; and there appeared no reason for the breakage of the kite. another was sent up; but the same thing happened, and at the same altitude. then the officer who was in charge of the kites sent for a superior. a third kite was flown to see what would happen. this one broke exactly as the others had done, and at just the same height--about five hundred feet. precise data could not be gained as to this phenomenon; but the breaking of these kites--which had withstood extremely high pressure in previous tests--was reckoned to be due to the fact that, when they reached a certain point in the air, they were subjected to the violent strain of a sudden and complete change in the direction of the wind. to the pilot of an aeroplane, entering without warning some such area of danger, the result might naturally be serious in the extreme. the air has been, and is still, an uncharted sea. it does not flow with uniformity over the surface of the earth. it is a constantly disturbed element, and one that has the disadvantage of being invisible. an aviator cannot see the dangerous currents and eddies into which he may be steering his craft; and so it was not surprising, in those days when aircraft were frailer than they should have been, and cross-country flights were first being made, that machines broke often while in flight and that the airman's enemy, the wind, claimed many victims. wind fluctuations that are dangerous, those which possess for one reason or another an abnormal strength, are encountered frequently when a pilot is fairly near the earth; and his peril is all the greater in consequence. on a windy day, one on which there are heavy gusts followed by comparative lulls, it is when he is close to the ground, either in ascending or before alighting, that a pilot has most to fear. if he is well aloft, with plenty of air space beneath him, and particularly if he has a machine that is inherently stable, he has little to fear from the wind; save, perhaps, should his engine fail him, or should he find--as has been the case in war flying--that the force of the wind, blowing heavily against him, and reducing the speed of his machine, has prevented him from regaining his own lines before his petrol has become exhausted. the modern aeroplane, when its engine-power is ample, and it is at a suitable altitude, can wage battle successfully even with a gale. but it must rise from the earth when it begins a flight, and return to earth again when its journey is done; and here, in the areas of wind that are disturbed by hills, woods, and contours of the land, there are often grave dangers. the wind at these low altitudes blows flukily. its direction may be affected, for instance, owing to the influence of a hill or ridge. a side gust, blowing powerfully and unexpectedly against a machine, just as it is nearing the ground before alighting, may cause it to tilt to such an angle that it begins a side-slip. if the craft was sufficiently high in the air, when this happened, the pilot would be able, probably, to convert the side-slip into a dive, and the dive into a renewal of his normal flight. but if such a side-slip begins near the ground, and there is an insufficient amount of clear space below the machine, it may strike the ground in its fall, and become a wreck, before there is time for the pilot, or for the machine itself, to exercise a righting influence. the fact that a craft may be forced temporarily from its equilibrium, say by a side-slip, is known now to represent no great risk for the airman, granted always that he has the advantage of altitude. the machine, in such circumstances, falls a certain distance. this is inevitable, and for the reason that it must regain forward speed--which it has lost temporarily in its side-slip--before its own inherent stability can become effective, or its pilot regain influence over his controls. and it is this unavoidable descent, this short period during which the machine is recovering its momentum, and during which the pilot has no power of control, that represents in a heavy wind the moments of peril, should a pilot enter an area of disturbance just as he nears the ground. an aeroplane, when it sets out to fly in bad weather, may be likened to a boat that is being launched from a beach upon a rough and stormy sea. it is the waves close inshore, which may raise his craft only to dash it to destruction, that the boatman has chiefly to fear; and for the aviator, when he leaves the land and embarks upon the aerial sea, or when he returns again from this element and must make his contact with the earth, there lurks a risk that, caught suddenly by an air wave, and with insufficient space beneath his machine, he may be forced into a damaging impact with the ground. but the skill of designers and constructors, to say nothing of the growing experience of aviators, is working constantly towards a greater safety. of the risk attached to engine failure, when he is piloting a craft fitted with only one motor, an airman is reminded frequently, not only from his own experience, but from that of other flyers. with the aeroplane engine, even with types that have gained a high average of reliability, there are many possibilities of a slight mishap--each of them sufficient, for the moment, to put an engine out of action--that the pilot who is flying across country must, all the time he is in the air, have at the back of his mind the thought that at any moment, and perhaps without any warning, he may find that his motive power has gone. a magneto may fail temporarily; an ignition wire or a valve spring break. the aeroplane engine of to-day is, of course, an infinitely more reliable piece of apparatus than it was in those early days when henry farman, working with extraordinary patience at issy-les-moulineaux, was endeavouring--and for a long time without success--to make the motor in his voisin biplane run for five consecutive minutes without breakdown. the war has shown us, and under working conditions which have been exceptionally trying, how reliable the aero-motor has become. but until duplicate plants have been perfected, and more than one motor is fitted to aircraft as a matter of course, there must always be this risk of failure. in the mere stoppage of a motor no great danger is implied. the pilot must descend; that is all. his power gone, he must glide earthward. but where the risk does lie, in engine failure, is that it may occur at a moment when the airman is in such a position, either above dangerous country or while over the sea, that he cannot during his glide reach a place of safety. a study of flying will show how awkward, and how perilous on many occasions, has been the stoppage of a motor while a machine is in the air. two historic instances, though they did not, fortunately, end in a loss of the pilot's life, were the compulsory descents into the channel made by the late mr. hubert latham, during his attempts, in , to fly from calais to dover. in both these cases--once when only a few miles from the french shore, and on the second occasion when the aeroplane was quite near its destination--the motor of the antoinette monoplane failed suddenly, and the aviator could do nothing but plane down into the water. on the first occasion he alighted neatly, suffering no injury, and being rescued by a torpedo boat; but in the second descent, striking the water hard, he was thrown forward in his seat and his head injured by a strut. less fortunate, in a case of presumed engine failure that will become historic, was mr. gustave hamel. eager to reach hendon, so as to take part in the aerial derby on may rd, , his great experience of channel flying induced him to risk the crossing with a motor which, on his flight from paris to the coast, had not been running well. his monoplane was a fast machine, and the flight across channel would have taken him less than half an hour. but at some point during the crossing, it seems obvious, his engine failed him, and he was unable to prolong his glide either to gain the shore, or the vicinity of a passing ship. his monoplane was never recovered; but the body of the aviator--whose loss was mourned throughout the flying world and by the general public as well--was discovered by some fishermen while cruising off the french coast, and identified by means of a map, clothing, and an inflated motor-cycle tyre; the last-named being carried by the airman round his body to act as an improvised life-belt. engine failure, though a fruitful cause of minor accidents, and of the breakage of machines, has led to few fatalities; and this has been due very largely to the fact that, though machines have descended under dangerous circumstances, and have been wrecked in a manner that would appear almost certain to kill their occupants, the pilots and passengers have, as a matter of fact, escaped often with no more than a shock or bruises. an aeroplane does not strike the ground with the impact of a hard, unyielding structure. it is essentially frail in its construction; and this frailness, though it spells destruction for the machine in a bad descent, provides at the same time an element of safety for its crew. take the case for instance of a machine falling sideways, and striking the ground with one plane or planes. these planes, built of nothing stronger as a rule than wood, crumple under the impact. but in their collapse, which is telescopic and to a certain extent gradual, a large part of the shock is absorbed. by the time the fusilage which contains the pilot touches ground, the full force of the impact is gone. and it is the same, often, if a machine makes a bad landing, say on awkward ground, and strikes heavily bow-first. granted that the occupants of the machine are well-placed, and prevented by retaining belts from being flung from the machine, they should escape injury from the fact that there is so much to be broken, in the way of landing-gear and other parts, before the shock of the impact can reach them in their seats. had it not been for the capacity of the aeroplane to alight in awkward places without injury to its pilot, many lives might have been lost through descents in which motors have failed. aviators have been obliged to land in most unsuitable places: on the roofs of houses, for instance, in small gardens, and frequently on the tops of trees. if he finds his engine fail him when he is over a wood or forest, and there is no chance save to descend upon the trees, a skilled pilot may save himself as a rule from injury. planing down, till he is just above the tree-tops, he will then check suddenly, by a movement of his elevator, the forward speed of his machine. the craft will come to a standstill in the air; then, the support gone from its planes owing to the loss of forward speed, it will sink down almost vertically, and with very little violence, on to the tops of the trees. the machine itself will naturally be damaged, seeing that boughs will pierce its wings in many places, and that one or more of its planes may possibly collapse. but the net result of such a landing--and this is the point which is important for the pilot--is that the machine will be caught up and suspended on the trees, making a comparatively light and gradual contact, instead of there being any risk of its driving through the trees and making a heavy impact with the ground. humour, sometimes, may be extracted from such a predicament as engine failure, though it needs an aviator with a very deeply ingrained sense of humour to do so. the story is told, however, of a pilot who, flying across difficult country with a passenger, found that his motor failed--as they often will--just at a moment when there seemed no possible landing-point below. looking over the side of his machine, and glancing quickly here and there, the aviator saw no alternative but to bring his craft down in an orchard that lay below. pointing downward, to acquaint his passenger with their unpleasant situation, and to call his attention also to the orchard, the pilot said with a smile: "i hope you're fond of apples!" there is a risk in engine failure which has been emphasised more than once; and it is that which may attend the pilot who, while prolonging a glide in order to reach some landing-point, may be struck by a gust, or enter some area of disturbed wind, just before he reaches the ground and while his machine, moving slowly, is not in a position to respond effectually to its controls. in one case an aviator, struggling back towards the aerodrome with a motor which was not giving its power, found that it stopped suddenly when he was not far from a wood. beyond the wood, which stood on a ridge, there was a stretch of grassland. endeavouring to reach this promised landing-point, and holding his machine on a long glide, the airman came across above the trees. he had almost reached his goal when his machine entered a sudden down-current of wind--occasioned, no doubt, by the proximity of the trees and ridge. caught by this eddy, with no motive power to help him and very little speed on his machine, the pilot could not check its sudden dive; and the craft struck ground so heavily that both he and his passenger were killed. we have mentioned previously, as a fruitful cause of accident, that structural weakness of machines which has led, when conditions have been unfavourable, to a sudden collapse in the air. but apart from weakness in construction, and notably in accidents with early-type machines, there was the risk attached to mistakes in design, which produced machines which were unstable under certain conditions--and the dangers also which were due to inefficient controlling surfaces. it was no uncommon thing, in pioneer days, for a machine to be built which would not respond adequately to its elevator or rudder; though this unpleasant fact might not be discovered by the pilot until he was actually in flight, and perhaps at some distance from the earth. in one case, which is authenticated, a two-seated monoplane of a new type was tested at first in a series of straight flights, and found to be promising in its behaviour. a skilled pilot then took charge of it, and, carrying a passenger, proceeded to some more ambitious flights. steering the machine away across the aerodrome, and flying at a low elevation, he approached a belt of woods. the machine was too near the ground to pass over the tops of the trees; so the aviator decided to make a turn, and fly parallel with the wood. but when he put his rudder over, so as to bring the machine round in a half-circle, he found to his dismay that there was no response. in the design of the machine, as it was found afterwards, the rudder had been made too small: it would not steer the machine at all. in the little space that was left him, and to avoid crashing into the trees, the pilot had to bring his craft to earth in such an abrupt dive that it was wrecked completely. he and the passenger, though, escaped unhurt. carelessness has, fairly frequently, played its part in aeroplane disasters. sometimes a pilot has been careless, or perhaps in a hurry, and has failed to locate some defect which, had it been seen and attended to, would have saved a disaster when a machine was in flight. such inattention, which is sufficiently dangerous in the handling of any piece of mechanism, is deadly in its peril when those who are guilty of it navigate the air. a man who brings out a machine time after time, and ascends without examining it carefully, is adding vastly to the risks that may attend his flight; and the same remark will apply to the carelessness of mechanics; though as a class, in view of the arduous nature of their work, and of the long hours they have frequently to be on duty, with no more than hasty intervals for rest, their average of care and accuracy is very high. but there have been cases--mostly in the past though--in which a machine has developed a structural defect, or some defect say in its control gear, which ought to have been observed by its mechanics, but which has not been so detected, and has led to a catastrophe in flight. with machines built lightly, and subjected to heavy strains when at high speeds, it is vital that the inspection of such craft, that the examination of every detail of them, should be carried out in a spirit of the greatest care. the fraying through of a control wire, unnoticed by those in charge of a machine, has been sufficient to cause a disaster; while carelessness in overhauling a motor, a task of supreme importance, seeing that its engine is the heart of an aeroplane, has been another cause of accident. it is vital that, when an airman ascends, both his machine and his motor should be in perfect working trim. he himself, before he flies, and after his aeroplane has been wheeled from its shed, should make it a habit to look over the machine, so as to impose his own personal check upon the work his mechanics have done. even when every care has been taken, and a machine ascends in perfect trim, there is the human factor, represented by the pilot, which must be considered always in a study of aeroplane accidents. there is often, when a catastrophe seems imminent, a choice of things that may be done. if an engine fails, for instance, under awkward circumstances, the pilot may have, say, three courses open to him in regard to his descent. two may spell disaster and the third safety. it is here that the innate judgment of a pilot, combined with his experience, will tell its tale. but this personal element in flying, and particularly in regard to an accident, is often a very difficult one for which to make allowances. the whole problem of aeroplane disasters is, to the analyst, one of unusual complexity. take for example the case of a pilot who is flying alone in his machine, and at an altitude of several thousand feet. suddenly something happens; the machine is seen to fall and the pilot is killed. experts come to examine the aircraft, but it is wrecked so completely that little which is reliable can be gathered from any inspection; while the man who could explain what has happened--the pilot of the machine--is dead. the statements of eyewitnesses, when taken on such occasions, are often misleading. one person heard a crash, and saw something fall away from the machine. another declares the engine stopped suddenly and that the machine "fell like a stone." another says he is sure he saw one of the wings fold upwards and the machine swing and fall. and so on. it is extremely difficult, even for a technical eye-witness, to be sure of what he sees when things happen quickly and at a distance from him; while the statements of non-technical people, who are not trained in observation, are generally so unreliable as to be useless. it has happened often therefore, far too often, in aeroplane fatalities that have happened from time to time, that the cause of such accidents has, even after the most careful investigation, had to be written down a mystery. but in more than a few cases, though the evidence has been far from conclusive, it has been considered that a pilot has been guilty of some error of judgment. there were puzzling instances, notably in the early days of flying, when airmen began first to make cross-country flights, of engines being heard to fail suddenly, and machines seen to fall to destruction. that engines should break down was not surprising; they were doing so constantly; but there was no reason why, even if they did fail, a machine should fall helplessly instead of gliding. but what was thought to have happened, in more than one of these cases, was that the pilot, through an error of judgment, had failed to get down the bow of his machine when his motor gave signs of stopping. the craft concerned were, it should be mentioned, "pusher" biplanes; and the same rule applied to them, in cases of engine failure, as has been explained in a previous chapter, and as is emphasised nowadays in the instruction of the novice. but in those days the beginner had frequently to learn, not from wise tuition, but from bitter experience; and he was lucky, often, if he learned his lesson and still retained his life. on certain early-type biplanes, for instance, machines with large tail-planes, and engined as a rule by a motor which was giving less than its proper amount of power, it was most dangerous for a pilot if, on observing any signs of failing in his engine, he sought to fly on in the hope that the motor would "pick up" again, and continue its work. directly there was a tendency of the motor to miss-fire, or lessen in the number of its revolutions per minute, the consequent reduction of the propeller draught, as it acted on the tail of the machine, would cause this tail to droop, and the machine to assume very quickly a dangerous position. and when once it began to get tail-down, as pilots found to their cost, there was nothing to be done. the machine lost what little forward speed it had, and either fell tail-first, or slipped down sideways. such risks as these, which were very real, were rendered worse owing to the fact that, in much of the cross country flying of the early days, pilots flew too low. they lacked the confidence of those who followed them, and were too prone to hug the earth, instead of attaining altitude. it was not realised clearly then, as it is now, that in height lies safety. and so when a machine lost headway through engine failure, and was not put quickly enough into a glide, it happened often that it had come in contact with the earth, and had been wrecked, before there was any chance for the pilot to regain control, or for the machine itself to exhaust its side-slip, and come back to anything like a normal position. but the failure of the human factor in flying, the lack of skill of a pilot that may lead to disaster, is shown by statistics to play no more than a small part, when accidents are studied in numbers and in detail. some time before the war, in an analysis of the accidents that had befallen aviators in france--accidents concerning which there was adequate data--it was shown that only per cent. of them could be attributed to a failure in judgment or skill on the part of the pilot. apart from errors, however, in what may be called legitimate piloting, there have been regrettable accidents due to trick or fancy flying. putting a machine through a series of evolutions, to interest and amuse spectators, is not of course in itself to be condemned. in such flying, and notably for instance in "looping the loop," facts were learnt concerning the navigation of the air, and as to the apparently hopeless positions from which an aeroplane would extricate itself, which were of very high value, from both a scientific and practical standpoint. public interest in aviation was increased also by such displays; and it is very necessary that there should be public interest in flying, seeing that it is the public which is asked to pay for the development of our air-fleets. but the man who undertakes exhibition flying needs not only to be a highly-skilled pilot, but a man also of an exceptional temperament--a man whose familiarity with the air never leads him into a contempt for its hidden dangers; a man who will not, even though he is called on to repeat a feat time after time, abate in any way the precautions which may be necessary for his safety. in looping the loop, for instance, or in upside-down flying, it is necessary always that the aeroplane should be at a certain minimum height above the ground. then, should anything unexpected happen, and the pilot lose command temporarily over his machine, he knows he has a certain distance which he may fall, before striking the ground; and during this fall the natural stability of his machine, aided by his own operation of the guiding surfaces, may bring it back again within control. but if he has been tempted to fly too near the ground, and has ignored for the moment this vital precaution, and if something happens for which he is not prepared, then the impact may come before he can do anything to save himself. in the early days of flying, when aviators attempted an acrobatic feat, they ran a far heavier risk than would be the case to-day; and for the simple reason that their machines, not having a strength sufficient to withstand any abnormal stresses, were likely to collapse in the air if they were made to dive too rapidly, or placed suddenly at any angle which threw a heavy strain on their planes. a machine for exhibition flying needs to be constructed specially; but this was not realised till accidents had taught their lesson. it is a regrettable fact, one which emerges directly from a study of aeroplane accidents, that many of them might have been avoided had men been content to follow warily in the footsteps of the pioneers, and not run heavy risks till they themselves, and the machines they controlled, had been prepared, by a long period of steady flying, to meet such greater dangers. the first men who flew realised fully the risks they ran. but when flying became more general, and men found machines ready to their hands, machines which it was a simple matter to learn to fly, this early spirit of caution was forsaken, and feats were attempted which brought fatalities in their train, and which seemed to emphasise the risks of aviation, and did it the very bad service that they fixed in the public mind a notion of its dangers, and prevented men from coming forward to take up flying as a sport. chapter viii factors that make for safety it has been calculated that nearly half the aeroplane disasters of the early days were due to a structural weakness in machines, or to mistakes either in their design, or in such details as the position, shape, and size of their surfaces. to-day, thanks to science, and to the growing skill and experience of aeroplane designers and constructors, this risk of the collapse of a machine in the air, or of its failure to respond to its controls at some critical moment through an error in design, has been to a large extent eliminated. that such risks should be eliminated wholly is, as yet, too much to expect. one of the factors making for safety has been the steady growth in the general efficiency of aircraft: in the curve of their wings which, as a result largely of scientific research, has been made to yield a greater lift for a given surface and to offer a minimum of resistance to their passage through the air; in the power and reliability of their engines; in the efficiency of their propellers; and in the shaping of the fusilage of a machine, and in the placing and "stream-lining" of such parts as meet the air, so as to reduce the head resistance which is encountered at high speeds. such gains in efficiency, which give constructors more latitude in the placing of weight and strength where experience show they are needed, have gone far to produce an airworthy machine. in the old days, when machines were inefficient, a few revolutions more or less per minute in the running of an engine meant all the difference between an ascent and merely passing along the ground. but nowadays, through the all-round increase in efficiency that has been obtained, a machine will still fly upon its course without losing altitude, and respond to its controls, even should the number of revolutions per minute of its engine be reduced considerably. when given a greater efficiency in lifting surfaces and power-plants--and profiting also from the lessons that had been learnt in the piloting of machines--constructors were able to devote their attention, and to do so with certainty instead of in a haphazard way, to the provision of factors of safety when a craft was in flight. with a machine of any given type, if driven through the air at a certain speed, it is possible to estimate with accuracy what the normal strains will be to which it is subjected. but even if such data are obtained, and the machine given the strength indicated, this factor of safety is insufficient. it is not so much the normal strains, as those which are abnormal, that must be guarded against in flight. a high-speed machine, if piloted on a day when the air is turbulent, may be subjected to extraordinarily heavy strains; rising many feet in the air one moment, falling again the next, and being met suddenly by vicious gusts of wind--in much the same way that a fast-moving ship, when fighting its way through a rough sea, is beaten and buffeted by the waves. air waves have not of course the weight, when they deliver a blow, that lies behind a mass of water; but that these wind-waves attain sometimes an abnormal speed, and have a tremendous power of destruction, is shown in the havoc that is caused by hurricanes. it seems astonishing to many people that such a frail machine as the aeroplane, with its outspread wings containing nothing stronger often than wooden spars and ribs, covered by a cotton fabric, should be capable of being driven through the air at such a speed, say, as miles an hour, encountering not only the pressure of the air, but resisting also the fluctuations to which it may be subjected. but, underlying the lightness and apparent frailty of such a wing, when one sees it in the workshop in its skeleton form, before it has been clothed in fabric, there is a skill in construction, and an experience in the choice, selection, and working of woods, that produces a structure which, for all its fragile appearance, is amazingly strong. and the same applies, nowadays, to all the other parts of an aeroplane. that it should have taken years to gain such strength, and to reduce so largely the risk of breakage, is not in itself surprising. men had to devise new methods in construction--always with the knowledge that weight must be saved--and to create new factors of safety, before they could build an airworthy craft. to-day, when a man flies, he need have no lurking fear, as had the pioneers, that his craft may break in the air. even when it is driven through a gale, plunging in the rushes of the wind, yet held straining to its task by the power of its motor, the modern aeroplane can be relied upon; and not in one detail of its construction, but in every part. experience, the researches of science, and the growing skill with which aircraft are built, stand between the airman and many of his previous dangers. the aeroplane to-day, one of the structural triumphs of the world in its lightness and its strength, has a factor of safety which is sufficient to meet, and to withstand, not merely ordinary strains, but any such abnormal stresses as it may encounter--and which may be many times greater than the strains of normal flight. the aviator knows also that his engine, as it gives him power to combat successfully his treacherous enemy, the wind, represents the fruit of many tests and of many failures, and of the spending of hundreds of thousands of pounds. many of its defects have revealed themselves, and been rectified; it is no longer light where it should have weight of metal, nor weak where it should be strong. so far as any piece of mechanism can be made reliable, consisting as it does of a large number of delicate parts, operating at high speed, the aeroplane motor has been made reliable. but, so long as one motor is used, there must always, as we have said, remain a risk of breakdown. it is for this reason that, thanks largely to the stimulus of the war--which has created a practical demand for such machines--aeroplanes are now being built, and flown with success, which are fitted with duplicate motors. with such machines, which give us a first insight as to the aircraft of the future, engine failure begins to lose its perils--particularly in regard to war. more than once during the great campaign, when flying a single-engine machine, an aviator has found his motor fail him, and has been obliged to land on hostile soil; with the result that he has been made prisoner. but with dual-engine machines it has been found that, when one motor has failed mechanically, or has been put out of action by shrapnel, the remaining unit has been sufficient--though the machine has flown naturally at a reduced rate--to enable the pilot to regain his own lines. in peace flying, too, as well as in war, the multiple-engined aeroplane brings a new factor of safety. if one of his motors fails, and he is over country which offers no suitable landing-place, the pilot with a duplicate power-plant need not be concerned. his remaining unit or units will carry him on. there are problems with duplicate engines which remain to be solved--problems of a technical nature--which involve general efficiency, transmission gear, and the number and the placing of propellers; but already, though this new stride in aviation is in its earliest infancy, results that are most promising have been obtained. to those who study aviation, and have done so constantly, say from the year , one of the most striking signs of progress lies in the fact that, though unable at first to fly even in the lightest winds, the aviator of to-day will fight successfully against a miles-an-hour wind, and will do battle if need be, once he is well aloft, with a gale which has a velocity of miles an hour. he will ascend indeed, and fly, in any wind that permits him to take his machine from the ground into the air, or which the motor of his craft will allow it to make headway against. and here, though machines are still experimental, there is removed at one stroke the earliest and the most positive objection of those who criticised a man's power to fly. when the first aeroplanes flew the sceptics said: "you have still to conquer the wind, and that you will never do. aeroplanes will be built to fly only in favourable weather, and this will limit their use so greatly that they will have no significance." but to-day the aviator has ceased, one might almost say, to be checked or hampered by the wind. if the need is urgent, as it often is in war, then it will be nothing less than a gale that will keep a pilot to the ground, provided he has a sufficiently powerful machine, and a suitable ground from which to rise--and granted also that he has no long distance to fly. wind-flying resolves itself into a question of having ample engine-power, of being able to launch a machine without accident, and get it to earth again without mishap; and of being able to make a reasonable headway against the wind when once aloft; and these difficulties should solve themselves, as larger and heavier machines are built. apart from the growing skill of the aviator, which has been bought dearly, science can now give him a machine, when he is in a wind, that needs no exhausting effort to hold it in flight. craft are built, as a matter of certainty and routine, which have an automatic stability. science has made it possible indeed, by a mere shaping and placing of surfaces, and without the aid of mechanical devices, to give an aeroplane such a natural and inherent stability that, when it is assailed by wind gusts in flight, it will exercise itself an adequate correcting influence. to understand what this means it should be realised that, when such a machine is in flight say in war on a strategical reconnaissance, and carries pilot and passenger, the former can take it to a suitable altitude and then set and lock his controls, and afterwards devote his time, in common with that of his passenger, to the making of observations or the writing of notes. the machine meanwhile flies itself, adapting itself automatically to all the differences of wind pressure which, if it had not this natural stability, would need a constant action of the pilot to overcome. all he need do is to maintain it on its course by an occasional movement of the rudder. with such a machine, even on a day when there is a rough and gusty wind, it is possible for an airman to fly for hours without fatigue; whereas with a machine which is not automatically stable, and needs a ceaseless operation of its controls, the physical exhaustion of a pilot, after hours of flight, is very severe. so, already, one sees these factors of safety emerge and take their place. there is no longer a grave peril of machines breaking in the air; there need be no longer, with duplicate power-plants, the constant risk of engine failing; while that implacable and treacherous foe, the wind, is being robbed daily of its perils. chapter ix a study of the methods of great pilots the masters of flying, and this is a fact the novice should ponder well, have been conspicuous almost invariably for their prudence. no matter how great has been their personal skill, they have never lost their respect for the air; and this is why so many of the great flyers, after running the heaviest of risks in their pioneer work, have managed to escape with their lives. what patience and sound judgment can accomplish, when pitted even against such dangers as must be faced by an experimenter when he seeks to fly, is shown by an incident from the early career of the wright brothers. with one of their gliders, a necessarily frail machine, and in tests made when they were both complete novices, they managed to make nearly glides; and not once in all those flights, during which they were learning the rudiments of balance and control, did they have a mishap which damaged at all seriously their machine. these two brothers, wilbur and orville, offer to the student of flying, apart from the historical interest which is attached to their work, a temperamental study of the greatest interest. wilbur, who was grave, judicial--a man of infinite patience and with an exceptional power of lucid thinking--found in his brother and co-worker, orville, a disposition just such as was necessary to strengthen and support him in his great research; a disposition more vivacious and more enthusiastic than his, and one which acted as a balance to his own gravity. the method of these brothers in first attacking a mass of data, most of it contradictory--and a large amount of it of little intrinsic value--and then framing their own research on lines which they discussed and studied with methodical care, forms a model of sound judgment for workers in any complex field. their kite experiments, their gliders, their refusal to hasten their steps unduly in the fitting of an engine to their machine, reveal again their discretion, and that judgment which never failed them. perseveringly and unswervingly, exhibiting doggedness without obstinacy, and with their work illuminated always by the highest intelligence, they moved surely from stage to stage; and at last, when they fitted a motor to their machine, such was their knowledge of the air, and of the control of their craft when in flight, that they were able to make this crucial step, from a glider to a machine driven by power, without any breakage of their apparatus or injury to themselves. the same self-control marked them when, having demonstrated that men can ascend in a power-driven machine, and steer such a craft at will, they dismantled their apparatus and commenced their negotiations with foreign governments. wilbur wright, too, when he came to france to give his first public demonstrations, provided by his methods a model for aviators, either present or future. he resisted all temptations to make injudicious flights. if he considered the weather conditions at all unsuitable he said that he would not ascend, no matter who might have come to see him fly, and that settled the question once and for all. he was deaf to all pleadings, to all proffered advice. when conditions were perfectly suitable, and then only, would he have his craft brought from its shed. the same meticulous care, in every flight he made, marked his preparation of his machine. motor, controls, propeller-gearing, every vital part, received its due attention; and this attention was never relaxed, no matter how frequently he flew, nor how great was his success. an observer of one of his early flights at le mans has given us an impression that is typical of this unremitting care. there was a question of some small adjustment that wilbur had instructed should be made to the machine. when the time came to fly, and he was in the driving-seat waiting for the motor to be started, he called a question as to whether this detail had been attended to. he was assured it had. but this was not enough for wilbur wright. climbing from his seat and walking round the biplane, he made a careful examination for himself, and then returned quietly to the front of the machine. people who came to see him fly, and expected some picturesque hero, leaping lightly into his machine and sweeping through the air, found that reality disappointed them. this quiet, unassuming man, who slept in his shed near his aeroplane, and took his meals there also, refused to be fêted or made a fuss of; while his deliberation in regard to every flight, and his indifference to the wishes or convenience of those who were watching him, drove nearly frantic some of those influential people who, coming in motor-cars and with a patronising spirit, thought the aviator might be treated rather as a superior mountebank, who would be only too glad to come out and fly when a distinguished guest arrived. m. louis bleriot, whose name was next to become world-famous, after that of the wrights, and who owed his distinction to his crossing of the english channel by air, revealed in his character determination and courage, and imagination as well. and yet allied to these qualities--and here lay his temperamental strength--he had a spirit of quiet calculation and an eery considerable shrewdness. he knew, and was not afraid of showing that he knew, the full value of caution. and yet on occasion also--as in the cross-channel flight--he was ready to put everything to the test, and to take promptly and with full knowledge the heaviest of risks. the motor in his cross-channel monoplane was an experimental one of low power, air-cooled, and prone to over-heat and lose power after only a short period of running. to cross the channel, even under the most favourable circumstances, he knew this engine must run without breakdown for thirty-five or forty minutes. this it had not done--at any rate in the air--before. there was a strong probability--and bleriot knew this better than anyone else--that the motor would fail before he reached the english shore, and that he would have to glide down into the sea. it was arranged that a torpedo-boat-destroyer should follow him, and this afforded an element of safety. but bleriot guessed--as was actually the case--that he would outdistance this vessel in his flight, and soon be lost to the view of those upon it. and he did not deceive himself as to what might happen, if his engine stopped and he fell into the water. his monoplane, as it lay on the surface of the water, would, he knew, prove a very difficult object to locate by any vessel searching for it; while it was so frail that it would not withstand for long the buffeting of the waves. he carried an air-bag fixed inside the fusilage, it is true; but, in spite of this precaution, bleriot knew he ran a very grave peril of being drowned. there was, on the morning of his flight, another disturbing factor to be reckoned with. the wind, calm enough when he first determined to start, began very quickly to rise; and by the time he had motored from calais to the spot where his aeroplane lay, and the machine itself was ready for flight, the wind out to sea was so strong that the waves had become white-capped. but bleriot, aware of the value at such moments of decision, had made up his mind. he knew that, if his engine only served him, his flight would be quickly made. and so he reckoned that, even though the wind was rising, he would be able to complete his journey before it had become high enough seriously to inconvenience him; and in this calculation, as events proved, he was right. his motor did its work; and, though the wind tossed his machine dangerously when he came near the cliffs of the english coast, he succeeded in making a landing and in winning the £ prize. m. hubert latham, bleriot's competitor in the cross-channel flight, had that peculiar outlook on life, with its blend of positive and negative--puzzling often to its owner as well as to the onlooker--that is called, for the sake of calling it something, the artistic temperament. he was impulsive, yet impassive often to a disconcerting extent: extremely sensitive and reserved as a rule, yet on occasion almost boyishly frank and communicative. he lacked entirely ordinary shrewdness, or everyday commonsense. he was a man of a deeply romantic temperament, and this inclined him towards aviation and the conquest of the air; while in actual piloting he had such a quickness and delicacy of touch, and such a sure and instinctive judgment of distance and of speed, that he was undoubtedly a born aviator--one of, if not the, finest the world has seen. that he did not attain greater success, from a practical point of view, was due to the fact that he was without the level-headedness and the business ability which characterised others of the pioneers. when he was in flight in his antoinette--latham flew that machine and no other--he was a supreme artist. his machine was beautiful, and his handling of it was beautiful. m. henri farman, beyond question, of course, another of the great pioneers, is a man of imagination and of a highly nervous temperament, yet possessing at the same time a very pronounced vein of caution. no success has for an instant caused him to lose his head. at rheims, in , when he had created a world's record by flying for more than three hours without alighting, those who hastened to congratulate him, after his descent, found him absolutely normal and unmoved. washing his hands at a little basin in the corner of the shed, he discussed very quietly and yet interestedly, and entirely without any affectation of nonchalance, the details of his flight and the behaviour of his motor. his attitude was that the flight was something, yet not a great deal, and that very much more remained to be done; a perfectly right and proper attitude, one which was just as it should be, yet one encountered very rarely under such circumstances--human nature being what it is. farman's patience, his perseverance, were in the very early days what gave him his first success. with the biplane the voisins built him, for example, nothing but his own determination, and his ceaseless work upon his engine, enabled him to do more with this type of machine than others had done. as the aeroplane increased in efficiency, and in the reliability of its engine, and was used in cross-country journeys, there came an era of flying contests, in which large prizes were offered, and in which airmen passed between cities and across frontiers, and traversed in their voyages the greater part of europe. in the making of these flights, which needed an exceptional determination and skill, allied also to a perfect bodily fitness, there came into prominence certain aviators whose precision in their daily flights, passing across country with the speed and regularity of express trains, won admiration throughout the world. prominent among these champions was the french naval officer, lieut. j. conneau, who adopted in his contests the flying name of "beaumont." his success and his exactitude, when piloting a bleriot monoplane for long distances above unknown country, guiding himself by map and compass, gave the public an indication, for the first time, of what might be accomplished by an expert airman when flying a reliable machine. lieut. conneau's success, winning as he did several of the great contests one after another, and the absence of error in his flying from stage to stage, and his accurate landings upon strange and often badly-surfaced aerodromes, should provide for the novice in aviation--when the secret of this success is understood--an object-lesson that is of value. this quiet, efficient airman, and his methods in making himself so competent, afford indeed an interesting study. here was one who, suited already by temperament for the tasks he undertook, trained himself with such care, with such patience, that he attained as nearly to the ideal as is possible for living man. when he had asked for, and obtained, permission from the minister of marine to study aviation in all its aspects, he began his task in a spirit that was admirable. "i was convinced," he wrote afterwards, "that a perfect knowledge of machines and motors was necessary before one could use them." for nearly a year, on leaving the sea, he worked to obtain a certificate as a practical engineer. this gained, he went through a period of motor-cycling and motor-car driving, varied by flights in captive balloons and free balloons, and afterwards in airships. following this he obtained leave to stay for a time at argenteuil, and enter the works of the builders of the gnome motor. here he lived the life of a mechanic, and learned to understand completely the operation of this famous engine, which he was destined to drive afterwards in his great flights. presently he went to pau, in order to obtain his certificate as an aeroplane pilot. at first, taking his turn with a number of other pupils, he could only get a few minutes at a time in a machine. but being a keen observer he found that, by listening to the instructors, and watching the flights made, he could pick up useful information without being in the air; and this led him to the observation that "to learn to fly quickly, one must begin by staying on the ground." he secured in due course his certificate of proficiency, astonishing the instructors by his skill and sureness in the handling of his machine. then followed what might be called an apprenticeship to cross-country flying. he made constant flights in all weathers, flying for instance from pau to paris, and studying closely not only the piloting of his machine and the aerial conditions he encountered, but also the art of using a map and compass, and in finding a path without deviation from point to point. improving daily in confidence and skill, and learning practically all there was to be learned as to the handling of a gnome-engined bleriot, he was able soon to fly under weather conditions which would have seemed hopeless to a pilot of less experience; while engine failure and other troubles, which overtook him frequently on these long flights, taught him to alight without damaging his machine on the most unpromising ground. now, feeling himself at last competent, he obtained permission to figure on the retired list, so that he might take part in the aviation races which were then being organised. of these great contests lieut. conneau won three in succession--the paris-rome race, in which he flew miles in hours minutes; the european circuit, in which he flew , miles in a total flying time of hours minutes; and the circuit of britain, in which he flew , miles in hours minutes. lieut. conneau's success, which appeared extraordinary, and his skill in finding his way across country, which seemed abnormal, were due as a matter of fact to his assiduous preparation, and to a temperament which, even under the heavy strains of constant flying, saved him from errors of judgment or ill-advised decisions. his temperament was, indeed, ideal for a racing airman. he was quiet and collected, with a natural tendency to resist excitement or confusion. his physique was admirable, and he had that elasticity of strength, both in body and nerve, which are invaluable to a pilot when on long flights. also, and this was of importance, lieut. conneau had a natural cheerfulness of disposition which carried him without irritation or despondency through those ordeals of weather, and of mechanical breakdowns and delays, which are inseparable from such contests as those in which he was engaged. a contrast to lieut. conneau, both in temperament and method, was his rival jules vedrines--the aviator who, notably in the circuit of britain, flew doggedly against lieut. conneau from stage to stage. vedrines, who had not had the advantages in tuition that had been enjoyed by lieut. conneau, nor his grounding in technique, was nevertheless a born aviator; a man of a natural and exceptional skill. in energy, courage, and determination he was unexcelled; but such qualities, though of extreme value in a long and trying contest, were marred by an impetuosity and an excitability which vedrines could not master, and which more than once cost him dear. he had not, besides, as was shown in the circuit of britain, that skill in steering by map and compass which aided lieut. conneau so greatly in all his flying. a personality of unusual interest was that of the late mr. s. f. cody--a man of a great though untutored imagination, and of an extraordinary and ceaseless energy. a big man, and one whom it might be thought would have been clumsy in the handling of an aeroplane, he piloted the biplanes of his own construction with a remarkable skill. he flew no other, of course, and this was greatly to his advantage in actual manipulation. the great pilots who have excelled--one may instance again lieut. conneau--have concentrated their attention as a rule on one type of machine, learning all there is to be learned about this particular craft, and being prepared in consequence, through their knowledge both of its capacities and weaknesses, for any contingency that may arise in flight. another instance of such specialisation was provided by mr. gustave hamel. m. bleriot--an admirable judge in this respect--singled out mr. hamel, while this young man was learning to fly in france, as an aviator of quite unusual promise; and his prediction was, of course, more than fulfilled. devoting himself exclusively to the monoplane, mr. hamel became a pilot whose perfection of control, very wonderful to witness, was marked strongly by his own individuality. he had beautiful "hands"--a precision and delicacy on the controls which marked his flying from that of all others; while his judgment of speed and distance, which was remarkable, represented natural abilities which had been improved and strengthened by his constant flying. chapter x cross-country flying when a pupil has finished his flying school tests, and has received his certificate from the royal aero club, he is in a stage of proficiency which means that he has learned to control an aeroplane when above an aerodrome and in conditions that are favourable, and that he may be relied on to make no elementary mistakes. but as to cross-country flying, with its greater hazards, he is still a novice, with everything to learn. and so it is to flights from point to point, generally between neighbouring aerodromes, that he next devotes himself. aviators have been commiserated with, often, on what is thought to be the monotony of a cross-country flight. the pilot, raised to a lonely height above the earth, is pictured sitting more or less inertly in his seat, with nothing to do but retain his control on the levers, and look out occasionally so as to keep upon his course. but the beginner, when he first attempts cross-country flying, will have an impression not of inactivity, but of the necessity to be constantly on the alert. he will be engrossed completely by the manipulation of his machine, with no time to sit in idle speculation, or to analyse his feelings as the country passes away below. when preliminaries on the ground have been gone through, and the pilot is in the air, there will first be a need to gain a height of several thousand feet. altitude is essential in cross-country flying. the higher a pilot flies, within reason and having regard to the state of the atmosphere, the better chance will he have of making a safe landing, should his motor fail suddenly and force him to descend. so the first concern is climbing--and in doing so the pilot must remember the teachings of his instructor, and not force his craft on too steep or rapid an ascent. he may prefer, in his early flights, to remain above the aerodrome while he is gaining altitude, watching his height recorder from moment to moment so as to note his progress upward. he will be occupied also with his engine, listening to its rhythm of sound, and keeping an eye on the indicator that tells him how many revolutions per minute the motor is actually making, and which will warn him at once should it begin to fail. granted his motor is running well, a pilot should soon gain altitude. then, assuming the air is clear--as it should be on his early flights--he will note some landmark, away on the line of his flight, and set off across country towards it. fixed conveniently in front of him will be a map, of a kind devised specially for the use of aviators. a pilot's view, as he flies high above the ground, is bird-like. landmarks fail to attract his attention, at this altitude, which would be clearly seen if he were on the ground. hills, for example, unless they are high, are so dwarfed as he looks down on them that they scarcely catch his eye. what is done, by the designer of air maps, is to accentuate such details of a landscape as will prove conspicuous when seen from above. a river, or an expanse of water, is clearly seen; so also are railways and main roads; while factory chimneys, and large buildings which stand alone, may be identified from a distance when a pilot is in flight. so on an airman's map, made to stand out by various colourings in a way that catches the eye, are railways, roads, rivers, lakes and woods, with here and there a factory chimney or a church, should these be in a position rendering them visible easily from the air. that such maps should be bold in their design, and free from a mass of small details, is very necessary when it is remembered that the aviator, passing through the air at high speeds, has no time for a leisurely inspection of his map. with a good map, and aided when necessary by the compass that is placed in a position so that he can see it readily, a pilot has no difficulty as a rule, once he has acquired the facility that comes with practice, in steering accurately from point to point, even when on a long flight. on a favourable day, when the land below is clearly visible, he will glance ahead, or to one side, and after observing some landmark, look on his map to identify the position he has just seen. under such conditions steering is easy, and the compass plays a subsidiary part. but it may happen that, while he is on a long flight and at a considerable altitude, the earth below may be obscured by clouds, or a low-lying mist, and all landmarks vanish from his view. sometimes too, he may find himself flying through mist and cloud, with all signs of the earth gone from below. whereupon, robbed for awhile of any direct guidance, he must fly by aid of his map and compass, holding his machine on its compass course, and noting carefully the needle of his height-recorder, so that he is sure of maintaining altitude. a risk exists under such conditions, when there is no visible object by which to judge a course, that an airman may make leeway, unconsciously, under the pressure of a side-wind; and so he must be ready to note carefully, immediately that a view of the earth is vouchsafed him, whether he has actually been making leeway, either to one hand or the other, even while the bow of his machine has been held on its compass course. there is a risk also, when a pilot is flying in fog or at night, that, having no visible horizon from which to gauge the inclination of his craft, it may assume gradually some abnormal angle, without his own sensations telling him what is taking place. the craft may, for the sake of illustration, incline sideways, imperceptibly to the pilot, till it begins to side-slip. but science can meet this danger by providing inclinometers, fitted within the hull so that the aviator can see them easily; and by means of these instruments, which are illuminated at night, it is possible for a pilot to tell, merely by a glance, at what angle his machine is moving forward through the air--whether it is up or down at the bow, or whether its position laterally is normal. the beginner, on his first cross-country flight, need not be troubled by such intricacies. he is flying, one assumes, on a fine day, with the land spread clearly below him. so as he moves through the air, listening always to the hum of his motor, he need have no fear, granted that his observation is ordinarily keen, of losing his way. naturally, being a novice, he will feel the responsibility of his position. his eyes will rove constantly from one instrument to another; as indeed, from habit, do those of a practised flyer. he will glance at the height recorder; then at the engine revolution indicator; then at the dial which tells him what his speed is relative to the air. there is a dial, also, showing the pressure in his petrol-tank; while there will be a clock on his dashboard at which he will glance occasionally, after he has marked some position away on the land below, so as to determine what progress he is making from the point of view of time. besides these preoccupations, and the ceaseless even if almost unconscious attention that he must pay to his engine, there is the need to bear constantly in his mind's eye the lie of the land. should his motor fail suddenly, or something happen which necessitates an immediate descent, it is imperative that he should be able, without delay, to choose from the ground that is visible below him some field or open space that will provide a safe landing-point. and this is easier said than done. the earth, when viewed by a airman who looks down almost directly upon it, is apt to be deceptive as to its contour. a field that is selected say, from a height of several thousand feet, may not prove--as the aviator nears it in his glide--to be at all the haven he imagined it. more than once, seeking to alight on a field which appeared to him, as he was high above it, to be level as a billiard table, a pilot has found, when it is too late, that the ground has sloped so steeply that his machine, after landing, has run on downhill and ended by crashing into a fence or ditch. it is very necessary for an airman to learn to judge, by its appearance, the difference between an expanse, say, of pasture land, or a field which is in green corn or standing hay. it has happened often that a pilot, descending after engine failure towards what he has reckoned a grass field, has discovered--when too low to change his landing-point--that his pasture land is actually a field of green corn; and a landing under such conditions, with the corn binding on the running-gear of the machine, may end in the aircraft coming to an abrupt halt, and then pitching forward on its nose; with a broken propeller and perhaps other damages in consequence. in choosing a landing ground, as in other problems that face the novice in cross-country flying, experience will prove his safeguard. he will learn for instance that cattle or sheep, if they can be discerned below in a field, go to show that this field is one of pasture and not of crops. if no cattle are to be seen in a field, and the aviator is doubtful about it, and yet if it happens to be the only suitable one he can locate, then he may look closely at the gateway which leads into the field. if, in this gateway, he can detect such scars or markings on the ground as are caused by the feet of cattle as they walk daily in and out, he may feel satisfied the field is one of pasture. when cattle or sheep are seen standing in a field so that they face in the same direction, this may suggest either the existence of a slope, or the presence of a strong ground wind; while a stream or brook at the edge of a stretch of open land, or a belt of woods, may suggest a sloping of the ground. it is amusing for a pilot--or it was so, rather, in the days when few aeroplanes were in existence--to note the astonishment which his descent, made quite unexpectedly perhaps in some quiet and rural country, will occasion amongst the inhabitants. sometimes, under the stress of such an excitement, people appear to lose for the time being their power of coherent speech. a pilot in a cross-country contest, not being sure whether he was on his right course, decided to make a landing and ask his way. he noticed, after a while, the figure of a man in a field below. planing down, and alighting in the field, he shouted questions to this man, switching his engine off and on, while he did so, in order that his words, and those of the other, might be audible. but the man in the field, demoralised by the advent of this being from the air, and gazing at him and his machine with an expression of blank amazement, was unequal to the task of giving even the simplest directions. he waved his arms, it is true, but no words that could be understood issued from his lips. the pilot repeated his questions, but it was no good. the man waved and mouthed, and rolled his eyes, but when he tried to speak intelligibly he could not. so the aviator, loath to waste further time, accelerated his engine again and continued his flight. as a contrast to this, there was the experience of a pilot who, after a long flight from england to the continent, landed at length near a small village. in the next field to that in which he alighted there was a labourer, digging patiently. the aviator expected that this man would fling down his spade in excitement, and run wildly towards the aeroplane. but such was not the case. this labourer, a marvel of placidity and unconcern, merely raised his head slowly and looked across at the aircraft, and then went on with his digging. in his first cross-country flights, being concerned chiefly as to the manipulation of his machine, and having so many things to think of, the novice may feel tired after even a short journey by air. his chief sensation, as he switches off his engine to descend towards the aerodrome he sees below him, will be one of relief that he has escaped engine failure, and that he has been able to find his way from point to point. the joy of flight, of passing swiftly thousands of feet above the earth, will have made but a small impression upon him--at any rate consciously. it will not be until the handling of his machine becomes less laborious, and he has time to accustom himself to his unique view-point, and the strangeness and beauty of the scene below him, that the novice will realise some of the fascinations of aerial travel; fascinations that it is difficult to describe. the sensation of having thrown off the bonds of earth-bound folk; of soaring above the noise and dust of highways; of being free from the obstructions of traffic; of sweeping forward smoothly, swiftly, and serenely--the land stretching below in an ever-changing panorama, with the drone of the motor in one's ears, and a wine-like exhilaration in the rush of the air: these, and others more obscure, are among the sensations of cross-country flying. chapter xi aviation as a profession young men, and parents on their behalf, are seeking always some profession which will yield an adequate return for the enthusiasm which youth lavishes upon it. too often, though, at any rate in the past, this search for a man's work in life has been narrowed into ruts; conducted on certain set lines which, though they have found employment for the beginner, have given him no scope for that enthusiasm with which he will attack the first tasks presented him. aviation, till the coming of the war, was looked at askance by parents who had sons on their hands. apart from the risks of flying, which appeared to them ceaseless and terrible, the actual industry of building aeroplanes, regarded as an industry, seemed so haphazard and objectless an affair--so much like playing at work--that they discouraged any wish that a youth might show to enter it. many people, these people of intelligence, regarded the building and flying of aeroplanes as being no more than a passing phase, and a regrettable one, which it was hoped men would soon abandon, and turn their attention to tasks more serious and profitable. but that was before aircraft had proved their value as instruments of war. now it is known that aeroplanes have the power, granted they are supplied in sufficient numbers, of altering the tenor of a great campaign, both by land and sea; and that in any future war of nations, should one come, a battle between the hostile flying fleets, fought to determine the command of the air, will determine also, to a very large extent, the fortunes of armies on the land and navies on the sea. it is clear indeed that, for any great nation that strives to maintain its place, a powerful air fleet has become a necessity; while for britain, an island no longer from the military point of view, seeing that we must face seriously the question of invasions by air, there is a vital need to strive for command of the air, as we now hold command of the sea. the building up of our air fleet will be an arduous task, needing men, money, and time; but without it we cannot be secure. therefore the work must be faced, the men and the money forthcoming. aviation, as an industry, must prepare for years of strenuous work. a great air service must be created. machines must be designed and built in thousands instead of hundreds, and men trained to fly them. nor is this all. the aeroplane, though it has such significance as a weapon of war, is destined primarily and eventually to be an instrument of peace; a machine for the transport by air of passengers, mails, and goods, at speeds greater than will be feasible by land or water; and a craft also for the use of travellers and tourists, enabling them to make such journeys, with ease and pleasure, as will again prove impossible by land or sea. so aviation has two immense tasks ahead of it, instead of one. not only must it create, by years of patient and determined effort, a flying service which will command the air, but craft must be designed and built also for the mail, goods, and passenger-carrying services, and to meet the needs of the aerial tourist. this new task that has been given to men, that of designing, building, and piloting aircraft, is still on the eve of its expansion. the opportunities it offers to young men--to men whose minds are quick to grasp a new idea and who have the powers of initiative and decision--are almost boundless. flying will, as it develops, revolutionise the world's system of transport; while the developments even of the immediate future promise to be so great, and so important, that it is not easy to visualise them. but this at least is clear: now is the time for newcomers to enter the world of flight. aviation needs men, is calling aloud for men; and they are needed for many kinds of work. first, of course, should be placed the flying services, naval and military, to join which during the war men have come forward so admirably. but it will need, in the expansion that must follow this campaign, a steady and a ceaseless growth in numbers, not only of the men who handle machines in flight, but of those who serve the squadrons by their work on land, and who build up the organisation which is vital to success. for skilled aviators, other than those who join the services, there is scope for remunerative work. a constant demand exists for men who will test and fly in their trials the new machines that are built by manufacturers; for men who will fly, in public exhibitions, the craft that are used at the various aerodromes; and for men who will qualify as instructors, and join the flying schools which are already in existence, or in process of formation. in countries oversea, too, there is the definite promise that aircraft will be needed, not only for survey work over wide tracts of land, and for maintaining communication and bearing mails over districts where land travel is difficult, but also for exploration; and this again means that pilots will be required. new aerodromes must come into existence also; not only to act as alighting points for touring craft, but to provide grounds for the training of pupils; and at these aerodromes pilots will be needed. of other opportunities, apart from the piloting of aircraft, there are many--though it is desirable for a man to learn to fly, and obtain his certificate of proficiency, even if afterwards he does not intend continuing as a pilot. the practical experience he gains, while learning actually to handle an aircraft in flight, will prove extremely useful to him subsequently, even though the task he undertakes is one that keeps him on the ground. he may qualify, for instance, for a post in a aeroplane factory as a designer or draughtsman; or he may specialise in aero-motors, and seek a post in the engine-shops. at the aerodromes, too, there are openings which present themselves; as, for example, in the management of a flying school. it has been shown that the public will go in thousands to see sporting contests with aeroplanes, and here is another field for organisation and effort; while there is a constant demand for men of ability in the executive departments of firms which are established already in the industry, and are expanding steadily, or in those which are now being formed, or are joining aviation from day to day. the industry is at last on a footing that is practical and sound. it presents a new field for effort, and one that is unexploited; while for the man who enters it--and this should be the attraction for youth--there are occupations as fascinating as one's imagination could depict. but one thing must be understood clearly. flying is, of exact sciences, surely the most exact. the man who is only half-trained, who is more or less slovenly in his work, who will not bend his whole energies to his task, will find no place in this new industry. a young man is wasting his time, if, after deciding to enter aviation, he acquires knowledge that is no more than haphazard. he who contemplates aviation as a profession must set himself the task of learning all there is to be learned, and in the right way. individual opportunities and circumstances will, necessarily, play so large a part in the steps taken by a young man--or by his parents on his behalf--to launch him on a career in aviation that it is impossible, here, to do more than generalise. certainly, as we have said, it is an excellent preliminary to learn to fly; and it may be stated also that it is now possible to place, with aviation companies of repute, premium pupils who will undergo instruction extending over a period of three years. a youth may, also, gain his knowledge of the industry by becoming an indentured apprentice. one may say, as a conclusion to this chapter, that a great, new, and potential industry is springing up in our midst, one which will prove to be equally if not more important and far-reaching than the british shipbuilding industry, and one which will employ thousands of skilled engineers and artisans. ships are limited to one element, the water, which has very definite boundaries. aircraft, too, are limited to one element, the air; but this element has no boundaries so far as the earth is concerned, and aircraft will be navigable to any and every part of the globe. chapter xii the future of flight it is a hopeful augury, to those concerned with aviation, that public interest in flying should not only be keen, but should be growing. in the early days, even when aeroplanes were so great a novelty, it was difficult to induce people in any numbers to witness a flying display. the first meetings, though they were organised with enthusiasm, ended as a rule with a heavy financial loss; and this fact of course, when it became known, had a discouraging influence on those who might, had these early meetings proved a success, have been willing to finance aerodromes and the building of machines. but as it was, business men, who are quick to form conclusions, said that people would never be induced to pay to see aeroplanes fly. but here they failed to reckon with the fact that, though public interest in flying has been of very slow growth, yet at the same time it has been a steady and continuous growth. from month to month, and from year to year, as aeroplane constructors and pilots have continued at their tasks, overcoming technical difficulties and personal risks, the interest of ordinary people has grown perceptibly. even before the war--which has done so much to focus attention on flying--the attitude of scepticism and apathy had been greatly changed. when the london aerodrome at hendon was established, there were shrewd men in the city, men who are ordinarily very sound in their conclusions, who declared the public would never go there in appreciable numbers. how wrong they were, how little they gauged the change that was taking place in the public mind, is shown by the fact that, on a popular day at this aerodrome, as many as , people have paid for admission. in the immediate future, as in the immediate past, aviation will be concerned largely with the building of naval and military craft. this will, so to say, be the foundation of its development in other directions. war for instance, notably in the fitting of craft with duplicate power-plants, will provide data that is invaluable in the building of commercial craft, and in machines also for the use of the tourist. in aerial touring there lies an important field for the development of aircraft--one which may serve to bridge the gap between a relatively small, purely pleasure-type machine, and a craft which has utility in the fields of commerce. the motor-car provides an enjoyable means of travelling from place to place; but in the aeroplane, once it is airworthy, reliable, and comfortable, the tourist has a vehicle which is distinctly more pleasurable and exhilarating. the day was dawning before the war, and will now be hastened, when, garaging his aircraft at the london aerodrome as a convenient starting-point, an aerial traveller will tour regularly by air, using his flying machine as he would a motor. already, dotted about england, are aerodromes he may use as halting-points on his flight, and at which he can house his machine and secure the attention of mechanics; and the number of these grounds should grow rapidly in the future. in the aeroplane for the tourist, for the man who buys a machine and flies for his own pleasure, it is necessary to combine comfort and safety. as regards comfort, though much remains to be done in the perfection of detail, the occupants of a machine are now more studied than they were in the pioneer days. then a pilot sat out on a crude seat, exposed fully to the rush of wind as a machine moved through the air. now he is placed within a covered-in hull, a screen to protect him from the wind. from this stage, as was the case with the motor-car, rapid progress should be made in a provision of comfort. when touring by air under favourable conditions, there should be no more risk with an aircraft than with a motor-car. one of the most frequent causes of accident, as we have shown, has been the structural weakness of a machine. now, with the experience of the war on which to draw, and with many clever brains focussed on the development of the industry, this risk may be regarded as almost non-existent; as negligible a factor as it is possible to make it, remembering that aircraft, like other mechanism, have to be built by human hands. another risk, that of engine failure, may, as we have explained, be eliminated by the use of more than one motor. in the application of such systems there is still much to be learned; but the obstacles are not insuperable. one advantage that can be offered the aerial tourist, reckoning him as a pilot of no more than average skill, who needs all the aid that science can give him, is that he can obtain a machine which, owing to its automatic stability, requires merely to be taken into the air and brought to earth again, and which will practically fly itself, once it is aloft. one of the needs with a touring machine, to which makers must devote their attention, is that it should be able to leave the ground quickly in its ascent, and so permit its pilot to rise even from a small starting ground. and it is equally necessary that, on occasion, a machine should be able to alight safely, and at a slow speed, in quite a small field. an aviator who had given up aviation temporarily, after a long spell of cross-country flying, was asked one day when he was going to fly again. "i shan't do so," he said, "till i can buy a machine with which i can alight in my own garden." already there are craft which, provided high speeds are not expected of them, and they are given ample plane-surface, will alight at quite a moderate pace; but in the future, by the use of machines which have the power of increasing or reducing their wing-surfaces while in flight, it should be possible to descend in a space no larger, say, than a garden. in the construction of variable-surface machines, technical problems need to be faced which are unusually difficult. the theory with such craft is that their sustaining planes, either by a telescopic system, or by some process of reefing, are built so that they can be expanded or contracted at the will of the pilot. thus in rising, when a machine is required to ascend with a minimum run forward across the ground, a large area of lifting surface would be exposed; and at the moment of alighting, also, when it was desired that a machine should make its contact with the ground at the slowest possible speed, a maximum of plane surface would be employed. but when aloft, and in full flight, the pilot would be able if he so desired to reduce the area of his lifting surface, and so increase materially his speed. with a machine of this type, when perfected, it should be possible to rise quickly, and descend slowly, and yet at the same time, when well aloft, attain a high speed with moderate engine-power. the commercial possibilities of aviation are vast and far-reaching: not for nothing, after centuries of striving, have men conquered the air. the aeroplane is destined, by the facilities it offers for communication between nations, to play a vital part in the growth of civilisation. the construction and perfection of a commercial aeroplane, a machine which can be used for the transport of passengers, mails, and goods, represents largely a question of time and of money. technical problems still need to be solved. but none of them are insurmountable. all should be overcome by an expenditure of money and in the process of time--granted of course that research is directed upon the right lines. a sufficient amount of money for experimental work, which in aviation is very costly, was one of the prime difficulties before the war. capitalists were chary of aviation; they had no faith in it. now, after the work aircraft have done in war, and with the need to provide the world with air fleets, the industry need live no longer from hand to mouth. there should be funds available for experiments with commercial-type aeroplanes. as to the factor of time, this depends largely on the facilities that are obtained by the industry--apart from its work on naval and military craft--for test work with other machines. but in five years' time, granted progress continues on the lines now promised, we should have a service of passenger aeroplanes, each carrying fifty or more people, flying daily between london, the midlands, and the north; while in ten years' time it should be possible to cross the atlantic, from london to new york, by means of a regular service of aerial craft. the commercial aeroplane, even when perfected, would not be likely to compete successfully with other means of transit unless it could offer the advantages of a greater speed. here, indeed, in the speeds they will attain, lies the future of aircraft. the air will be our highway because, in the air, speeds will be reached that are impossible on land or sea. as civilisation extends--this is of course a truism--there grows with it a need for speedier travel; and we have seen land and sea transit striving to meet this demand. but both have reached, or are rapidly reaching, a limit of speed--a limit imposed by the need to carry their passengers and goods on a remunerative basis. on the sea, by burning excessive quantities of coal, it is possible to add a few knots to the speed of a great liner. but then the problem becomes one of profit and loss; while with trains--so nearly under existing conditions have they reached a limit of speed--that a difficulty is experienced, even on long runs, and under favourable circumstances, in saving a minute here and there. it is not of course to be assumed, when the spur of a greater necessity comes, that land and sea transit will fail altogether to increase their existing speeds. there is the mono-rail system of land traction, electrically propelled, which has yet to be tested in a practical way; while on the sea, perhaps, under pressure of competition, and with an increasing demand for greater speeds, it may be possible to adapt with advantage, even on large craft, some principle of the hydroplane. but by way of the air, granted even a speeding-up on land and sea, should go the high-speed traffic of the future. by a greater efficiency in lifting surfaces and by reductions in the resistance a craft offers to its own passage through the air; by the provision of systems which will permit a pilot to reduce plane-area when his machine has gained altitude and he desires a maximum speed; by the equipping of craft with motors developing thousands of horse-power for a very low weight--by such means, and by a general improvement in design, it should be possible, eventually, to attain flying speeds of , , and even miles an hour. from london to new york by air liner, in less than twenty hours; such, for instance, should be an attainment of the future. it seems probable, in the development of the commercial aeroplane, we shall have machines for touring and for pleasure flights--craft not of large size but in which efforts are made to obtain a greater reliability and comfort. then it appears likely that aircraft may reach a practical use as carriers of mails and of light express goods; first of all in localities, and under conditions, which favour specially an aerial transit. and from this phase we should move to the passenger-carrying craft; to the days when we shall be able to spend a week-end in new york, as readily as it has been the habit to do in paris; when we shall be able to reach any part of the world in a journey by air lasting, say, a week or ten days. then, as a recompense for the lives that have been lost, and for a conquest that has been so dearly won, the world will enter upon an age of aerial transit--the age when frontiers and seas will act as barriers no longer, when journeys that now last weeks will be reduced to days, and those of days to hours; when first of all europe, and then the world, will be linked by airway. the end. index aerodromes, their evolution, age, its relation to flying, alighting, operation of, biplanes and tuition, the "pusher" type, bleriot, louis, study of his methods as a pilot, certificate of proficiency, tests for, cody, s. f., commercial possibilities of aviation, conneau, lieut. j. ("beaumont"), constructional weakness in aeroplanes, risks of, controllability of aeroplanes, problems of, cross-country flying, pupils' first experiences, dual-engine machines, engine failure, risks of, enjoyment of learning to fly, farman, henri, pioneer work as an aviator, fees for tuition, first flights, pupil as passenger, health and flying, human factor in relation to accidents, improvements in aircraft which spell safety, industry of aviation, its expansion, instructors, qualifications necessary, latham, hubert, temperamental study, learning to fly not dangerous, manual dexterity, need of, opportunities for the newcomer in aviation, "rolling" (handling a machine on the ground), school aeroplanes, types of, ---- aeroplanes, need for ample supply, ---- biplane, its controls, schools, modern, their conveniences, sensations of flight, speed in its relation to flying, speed, promise of the future, straight flights, sustaining planes, their operation, temperament, the ideal for flying, time required in learning to fly, touring by air, turning in the air, vedrines, jules, his piloting, vol-plané, the, weather, its effect on tuition, wind fluctuation, dangers of, ---- flying, wrights, wilbur and orville, bibliography _some books selected as being likely to appeal to a man, without technical knowledge, who contemplates learning to fly._ "the airman," by captain c. mellor, r.e. published by mr. john lane, the bodley head, london. ( s. d.) describes the author's experiences, in france, while obtaining a brevet on a maurice farman biplane. "the essays of an aviator." obtainable from "aeronautics," , fleet street, london, e.c. ( s. d.) a series of admirable papers, written by a pilot and from a pilot's point of view. "the aeronautical classics." a series of booklets issued at s. each by the aeronautical society, , adam street, adelphi, london, w.c. describe authoritatively, and very interestingly, the work of great pioneers. "flight without formulÆ," by commandant duchene, of the french génie (translated from the french by john h. ledeboer). published by longmans, green & co., , paternoster row, e.c. ( s. d.) instructive discussions, clearly expressed, on the mechanics of the aeroplane. "principles of flight," by a. e. berriman. obtainable from "flight" offices, st. martin's lane, london, w.c. ( s.) "aero engines," by g. a. burls. published by charles griffen & co., , exeter street, strand, london, w.c. ( s. d.). * * * * * authors' note.--the above list does not, of course, pretend to be in any way complete. it is designed merely to act as a suggestion for the novice.--c. g.-w., h. h. * * * * * the london and norwich press limited, london and norwich, england smithsonian annals of flight volume number the first airplane diesel engine: packard model dr- of _robert b. meyer_ smithsonian institution national air museum · washington, d.c. [illustration: frontispiece--president herbert hoover (in front of microphones) presenting the collier trophy to alvan macauley (nearest engine), president of the packard motor car co., on march , (although the award was for ). also present were hiram bingham, u.s. senator from connecticut (nearest pillar), clarence m. young, director of aeronautics, u.s. department of commerce (between macauley and hoover), and amelia earhart, first woman to fly across the atlantic ocean (between macauley and the engine). in the foreground is a cutaway packard diesel aeronautical engine and directly in front of senator bingham is the collier trophy, america's highest aviation award. (smithsonian photo a .)] smithsonian annals of flight volume · number the first airplane diesel engine: packard model dr- of robert b. meyer _curator of flight propulsion_ smithsonian institution · national air museum washington, d.c. · the following microfilm prints are available at the smithsonian institution: "the packard diesel aircraft engine--a new chapter in transportation progress." an advertising brochure produced by the packard motor car company in , illustrated, pages. fifty-hour test of the engine by the packard company, . text and charts, pages. fifty-hour test of the engine by the u.s. navy in : text and charts, pages. packard instructional manual, . illustrated, pages. "the packard diesel engine," aviation institute of u.s.a. pamphlet no. -a, . illustrated, pages. for sale by the superintendent of documents, u.s. government printing office washington, d.c., --price cents contents _page_ acknowledgments vi foreword vii introduction history description specifications operating cycles weight-saving features diesel cycle features development comments analysis advantages disadvantages appendix . agreement between hermann i. a. dorner and packard motor car company . packard to begin building diesel plane engines soon . effect of oxygen boosting on power and weight acknowledgments it is difficult to acknowledge fully the assistance given by persons and museums for the preparation of this book. however, i wish especially to thank hugo t. byttebier, engine historian, buenos aires, argentina; dipl. ing. hermann i. a. dorner, diesel designer, hanover, germany; harold e. morehouse, and c. h. wiegman, lycoming engines, williamsport, pennsylvania; barry tully, goodyear aircraft, akron, ohio; richard s. allen, aviation author, round lake, new york; william h. cramer, brother of parker d. cramer, wantagh, new york; erik hildes-heim, early bird and aviation historian, fairfield, connecticut. i am particularly grateful to curators of the following museums who have been so generous in their assistance: deutsches museum, munich, germany (dipl. ing. w. jackle); henry ford museum, dearborn, michigan (leslie, r. henry); u.s. air force museum, wright-patterson air force base, dayton, ohio (maj. robert l. bryant, jr., director); science museum, london, england (lt. comdr. (e) w. j. tuck, royal navy). the preparation of this paper could not have been accomplished without the aid of the national air museum of the smithsonian institution and the help of philip s. hopkins, director, and paul e. garber, head curator and historian. foreword in this second number of the _smithsonian annals of flight_, robert b. meyer jr., curator and head of the flight propulsion division, tells the story of the first oil-burning engine to power an airplane, the packard diesel engine of , now in the collections of the national air museum. the author's narrative, well illustrated with drawings and photographs, provides a historical background for the development of the engine, and a technical description that includes specifications and details of performance. it also contains comments from men and women who flew planes powered by the packard diesel. the author concludes with an analysis of the engine's advantages and disadvantages. philip s. hopkins _director, national air museum_ july introduction on display in the national air museum, smithsonian institution, is the first oil-burning engine to power an airplane. its label reads: "packard diesel engine-- --this first compression-ignition engine to power an airplane developed hp at revolutions per minute. it was designed under the direction of l. m. woolson. in , a production example of this engine powered a bellanca airplane to an hour and minute nonrefueled duration record which has never been equalled.--weight/power ratio: . lb per hp--gift of packard motor car co." [illustration: figure (left).--front view of first packard diesel, . note hoop holding cylinders in place and absence of venturi throttles. this engine was equipped with an air pressure starting system. (smithsonian photo a .)] [illustration: figure (right).--left side view of first packard diesel, . heywood starter (air) fitting shown on the head of the next to lowest cylinder. (smithsonian photo a c.)] this revolutionary engine was created in the short time of one year. within two years of its introduction in , airplane diesel engines were being tested in england by rolls-royce, in france by panhard, in germany by junkers, in italy by fiat, and in the united states by guiberson. packard had demonstrated to the world the remarkable economy and safety of the airplane diesel engine, and the response was immediate and favorable. the novelty and performance of the packard diesel assured it a large and attentive audience wherever it was exhibited. yet in spite of its performance record the engine was doomed to failure by reason of its design, and it was further handicapped by having been rushed into production before it could be thoroughly tested. history the official beginning of the packard diesel engine can be traced to a license agreement dated august , , between alvan macauley, president of the packard motor car company of detroit, michigan, and dipl. ing. hermann i. a. dorner, a diesel engine inventor of hanover, germany.[ ] before the agreement was drawn up, capt. lionel m. woolson, chief aeronautical engineer for packard, tested an air-cooled and a water-cooled diesel that dorner had designed and built in germany.[ ] both engines attained the then high revolutions per minute of and proved efficient and durable. they demonstrated the practicability of dorner's patented "solid" type of fuel injection which formed the basis of the packard diesel's design.[ ] using elements from dorner's engines, woolson and dorner designed the packard diesel with the help of packard engineers and dorner's assistant, adolph widmann. woolson was responsible for the weight-saving features, and dorner for the combustion system. the historic first flight took place on september , , at the packard proving grounds in utica, michigan, just a year and a month from the day dorner agreed to join the packard team. woolson and walter e. lees, packard's chief test pilot, used a stinson sm- dx "detroiter." the flight was so successful, and later tests were so encouraging, that packard built a $ , plant during the first half of solely for the production of its diesel engine. the factory was designed to employ more than men, and engines a month were to have been manufactured by july .[ ] [illustration: figure .--alvan macauley (left), president of the packard motor car co. and col. charles a. lindbergh with the original packard diesel-powered stinson "detroiter" in the background, . (smithsonian photo a d.)] the engine's first cross-country flight was accomplished on may , , when lees flew the stinson sm- dx "detroiter" from detroit, michigan, to norfolk, virginia, carrying woolson to the annual field day of the national advisory committee for aeronautics at langley field. the -mile trip was flown in - / hours, and the cost of the fuel consumed was $ . . had the airplane been powered with a comparable gasoline engine, the fuel cost would have been about times as great.[ ] on march , , using the same airplane and engine, lees and woolson flew from detroit, michigan, to miami, florida, a distance of miles in hours and minutes with a fuel cost of $ . . the production engine, slightly refined from the original, received the first approved type certificate issued for any diesel aircraft engine on march , . the department of commerce granted certificate no. after the packard company had ground- and flight-tested this type of engine for approximately , hp hr, or about hr of operation.[ ] [illustration: figure .--dipl. ing. hermann i. a. dorner, . german diesel engine designer, was responsible for the packard dr- aircraft engine. (smithsonian photo a .)] [illustration: figure .--capt. lionel m. woolson, . chief aeronautical engineer, packard motor car co. designer of packard dr- diesel engine. (smithsonian photo a a.)] one of the early production versions powered a bellanca "pacemaker" which was piloted by lees and his assistant frederic a. brossy to a world's nonrefueling heavier-than-air duration record. the flight lasted for hours, minutes from may through , , over jacksonville, florida. this event was so important that it was the basis of the following editorial, published in the july issue of _aviation_,[ ] which summarizes so well the progress made by the diesel engine over a -year period and the hope held for its future: a record crosses the atlantic--the diesel engine took its first step toward acceptance as a powerplant for heavier-than-air craft when, in the summer of , a diesel-powered machine first flew. the second step was made at the detroit show, when the engine went on commercial sale. the third was accomplished last month, when a plane with a compression-ignition engine using furnace oil as a fuel circled over the beaches around jacksonville for hours and inscribed its performance upon the books as a world's record--the longest flight ever made without intermediate refueling. with the passing of the refueling-duration excitement, and with the apparent decision to allow that record to stand permanently at its present level, trials for straight time in the air without replenishment of supplies begin to regain a proper degree of appreciation. no other record, unless it be some of those for speed with substantial dead loads, is of such importance as the non-stop distance and duration marks. no other has such bearing upon precisely those qualities of aerodynamic efficiency, fuel economy, and reliability of airplane and powerplant that most affect commercial usefulness. it is more than three years since the duration record left american shores, and it has been more than doubled in that time. its return is very welcome. it is doubly welcome for being made with a fundamentally new type of engine. the diesel principle is not a commercial monopoly. it is open to anyone. already two different designs in america, and one or two in europe, have been in the air. for certain purposes, at least, it seems reasonable to expect that its special advantages will bring it into widespread use. every practical demonstration of the progress of the diesel toward realizing its theoretical possibilities in the air as it has realized them on the land and at sea is a bit of progress toward better and more economical commercial flying, and so benefits the whole industry. the fourth, and next, main element in the demonstration will be provided when diesels go into regular service on some well-known transport line as standard equipment, and the accumulation of data on performance under normal service conditions begins. we believe that that will happen before the end of . many men, from dr. rudolf diesel to walter lees and frederic brossy, have had direct or indirect hands in the making of this record. the greatest of all contributions was that of lionel m. woolson, who created the engine and flew with it in every test and brought it through its early troubles to the point of readiness for the commercial market. the flight that lasted four days and three nights is his memorial, quite as much as is the bronze plaque unveiled last april in the detroit show hangar. [illustration: figure .--stinson sm- dx "detroiter." this airplane, powered with original packard dr- diesel engine, made the world's first diesel-powered flight on september , . (photo courtesy of henry ford museum, dearborn, michigan.)] [illustration: figure .--packard-bellanca "pacemaker." this airplane, powered by a packard dr- diesel, holds the world's record for nonrefueling, heavier-than-air aircraft duration flight. the flight lasted hours, minutes, - / seconds, and was completed on may , , jacksonville, florida. (smithsonian photo a b.)] [illustration: figure .--verville "air coach," october . (smithsonian photo a .)] [illustration: figure .--packard-bellanca "pacemaker" owned by transamerican airlines corporation and used by parker d. cramer, pilot, and oliver l. paquette, radio operator, in their flight from detroit, michigan, to lerwick, shetland islands, summer . (smithsonian photo a .)] [illustration: figure .--ford -at- trimotor, , with packard -hp dr- diesel engines. note special bracing for the outboard nacelles. (smithsonian photo a b.)] [illustration: figure .--towle ta- flying boat, , with packard -hp dr- diesel engines. (smithsonian photo a .)] [illustration: figure .--stewart m- monoplane, , with packard -hp dr- diesel engines. (smithsonian photo a c.)] [illustration: figure .--consolidated xpt- a, . this is a consolidated pt- a powered by a dr- packard diesel. (smithsonian photo a e.)] the robert j. collier trophy, america's highest aviation award, was won by the packard motor car company in for its development of the diesel engine. the formal presentation was made at the white house, march , , by president hoover on behalf of the national aeronautic association. alvan macauley, president of the packard motor car company, accepted the trophy, saying: "we do not claim, mr. president, that we have reached the final development even though our diesel aircraft engine is an accomplished fact and we have the pioneer's joy of knowing that we have successfully accomplished what had not been done before...."[ ] the amazing early success of the packard diesel is illustrated by the following chronological summary: --license agreement signed between alvan macauley and hermann i. a. dorner to permit designing of the engine. --first flight of a diesel-powered airplane accomplished. --first cross-country flights accomplished. --packard diesels were sold on the commercial market and were used to power airplanes manufactured by a dozen different american companies. --world's official duration record for nonrefueled heavier-than-air flight. first flight across the atlantic by a diesel-powered airplane. --packard diesels tested successfully in the goodyear nonrigid airship _defender_.[ ] official american altitude record for diesel-powered airplanes established (this record still stands). in spite of this promising record, the project died in . the december issue of _pegasus_ gave two reasons for the failure of the engine: "one blow had already been dealt the program through the accidental death of capt. l. m. woolson, packard's chief engineer in charge of the diesel development, on april , . then the big depression took its toll in research work everywhere and packard was not excepted." [illustration: figure .--walter e. lees, packard chief test pilot (in cabin) and frederic a. brossy, packard test pilot, before taking off on their world's record, nonrefueling, heavier-than-air aircraft duration flight, which lasted hours, minutes, and - / seconds. (smithsonian photo a e.)] [illustration: figure .--walter e. lees, official timer, and ray collins, manager, national air tour, with their official airplane, a packard diesel waco "taper wing," at packard proving grounds near detroit. (smithsonian photo a .)] [illustration: figure .--capt. karl fickes, acting head of goodyear's airship operations, pointing out features on one of the "defender's" packard diesel engines to roland j. blair, goodyear airship pilot, akron, ohio. from "aero digest," february . (smithsonian photo a .)] the engine did not fail for the above mentioned reasons. capt. woolson's death was indeed unfortunate, but there were others connected with the project who carried on his work for three years after he passed away. the big depression was also unfortunate, but it did not stop aeronautical engine development. "it was a time when such an engine would have been most welcome if it had been produced in large enough numbers to bring the price down to compare favorably pricewise with gas engines of the same horsepower class."[ ] the packard diesel failed because it was not a good engine. it was an ingenious engine, and two of the several features it pioneered (the use of magnesium and of a dynamically balanced crankshaft) survive in modern reciprocating engine designs. in addition, when it was first introduced, no other engine could match it for economical fuel consumption and fuel safety. it also had other less important advantages, but its disadvantages outweighed all these advantages, as will be seen. description specifications the following specifications are for the production engine and its prototypes, known as the model dr- :[ ] type -stroke cycle diesel cylinders --static radial configuration cooling air fuel injection directly into cylinders at a pressure of psi valves poppet type, one per cylinder ignition compression--glow plugs for starting--air compression psi at ° f. fuel distillate or "furnace oil" horsepower at rpm bore and stroke - / in. × in. compression ratio : --maximum combustion pressure psi displacement cu in. weight lb without propeller hub weight-horsepower ratio . lb hp where manufactured u.s.a. fuel consumption . lb per hp/hr at full power fuel consumption . lb per hp/hr at cruising oil consumption . lb per hp/hr outside diameter - / in. overall length - / in. optional accessories starter--eclipse electric inertia; volts. special series no. generator--eclipse type g- ; volts [illustration: figure .--longitudinal cross section, packard diesel engine dr- . (smithsonian photo a .)] [illustration: figure .--transverse cross section, packard diesel engine dr- . (smithsonian photo a .)] [illustration: figure .--right side view of engine, showing accessories; packard motor car co. -hour test, . a, starter; b, oil filter. (smithsonian photo a .)] [illustration: figure .--rear left view of engine, showing accessories, u.s. navy -hour test, . barrel valve type venturi throttles. a, starter; b, oil filter; c, fuel circulating pump; d, generator. (smithsonian photo a c.)] operating cycles the sequences of operation of a packard diesel engine compared with those of a -stroke cycle gasoline engine are illustrated in figure . [illustration: =brief analysis of action in a four-cycle gasoline engine= _mixture of air and gasoline enters cylinder from carburetor._ _mixture is compressed into smaller volume by piston moving upward._ _an electric spark ignites the compressed mixture causing it to explode._ _combustion heat increases the cylinder pressure forcing piston downward._ _momentum carries piston upward which pushes burnt gases out through the exhaust valve._ =similar action in the packard-diesel aircraft engine= _atmospheric air only, enters cylinder through single valve._ _air is so greatly compressed by upward moving piston that it reaches temperature of ° f._ _just before piston is at dead center fuel oil is sprayed into cylinder and spontaneously ignited._ _power of this explosion is passed to crankshaft in conventional manner._ _piston forces out burnt gases through same single valve which is cooled by inrush of new air as cycle repeats._ figure .--operating cycles. (smithsonian photo a .)] although the size, weight, and general arrangement of the packard diesel did not differ radically from conventional gasoline engines of a similar type, there were definite differences caused by the diesel cycle. in the words of capt. woolson:[ ] as this engine operates on an entirely different principle than the gasoline engines used heretofore in aircraft, it is desirable before launching into a mechanical description to consider first in a general way the principles of operation of the diesel cycle as opposed to the otto cycle principle on which nearly all gasoline engines operate. the real point of departure between the two systems of operation is the ignition system involved. in the gasoline engine an electric spark is depended upon to fire a combustible mixture of gasoline vapor and air which mixture ratio must be maintained within rather narrow limits to be fired by this method.... in the diesel engine, air alone is introduced into the cylinders, instead of a mixture of air and fuel as in the gasoline engine, and this air is compressed into much smaller space than is possible when using a mixture of gasoline and air, which would spontaneously and prematurely detonate if compressed to this degree. the temperature of the air in the cylinder at the end of the compression stroke of a diesel engine operating with a compression ratio of about : is approximately degrees fahr., which is far above the spontaneous-ignition temperature of the fuel used. accordingly, when the fuel is injected in a highly atomized condition at some time previous to the piston reaching the end of its stroke, the fuel burns as it comes in contact with the highly heated air, and the greatly increased pressures resulting from the tremendous increase in temperature brought about by this combustion, acting on the pistons, drive the engine, as in the case of the gasoline engine. summing up, the differences between the diesel and gasoline engines start with the fact that the gasoline engine requires a complicated electrical ignition system in order to fire the combustible mixture, whereas the diesel engine generates its own heat to start combustion by means of highly compressed air. this brings about the necessity for injecting the fuel in a well-atomized condition at the time that combustion is desired and the quantities of fuel injected at this time control the amount of heat generated; that is, an infinitesimally small quantity of fuel will be burned just as efficiently in the diesel engine as a full charge of fuel, whereas in the gasoline engine the mixture ratio must be kept reasonably constant and, if the supply of fuel is to be cut down for throttling purposes, the supply of air must be correspondingly reduced. it is this requirement in a gasoline engine that necessitates an accurate and sensitive fuel-and-air metering device known as the carburetor. the fact that the air supply of a diesel engine is compressed and its temperature raised to such a high degree permits the use of liquid fuels with a high ignition temperature. these fuels correspond more nearly to the crude petroleum oil as it issues from the wells and this fact accounts for the much lower cost of diesel fuel as compared to the highly refined gasoline needed for aircraft engines. weight-saving features in order to be successful in aviation use, the modern lightweight diesel of the time had to have its weight reduced from lb/hp to . lb/hp. this required unusual design and construction methods, as follows: crankcase: it weighed only lb because of three factors: magnesium alloy was used extensively in its construction, thus saving weight as compared with aluminum alloy, which was the conventional material at this time. it was a single casting. this saved weight because heavy flanges, nuts, and bolts were dispensed with. the cylinders, instead of being bolted to the crankcase, as was normal practice, were held in position by two circular hoops of alloy steel passing over the cylinder flanges. they were tightened to such an extent that at no time did the cylinders transfer any tension loads to the crankcase. this type of fastening actually strengthened the crankcase in contrast to the usual method. for this reason it could be built lighter. the hoops did not always function well. "the first job i ever did on the towle was to patch the holes in the top and bottom of the hull when a cylinder blew off during run-up and nearly beheaded the pilot."[ ] [illustration: figure .--rear view of engine with rear crankcase cover removed, showing valve and injector rocker levers and injector control ring mounted on crankcase diaphram. u.s. navy test, . (smithsonian photo a d.)] [illustration: figure .--main crankcase. u.s. navy test, . (smithsonian photo a b.)] [illustration: figure .--rear crankcase cover and gear train: crankshaft gear drives b, which drives oil pump at f. a, integral with b, drives internal cam gear. b also drives c on fuel-circulating pump. d, driven by crankshaft gear, drives e on generator shaft. u.s. navy test, . (smithsonian photo a c.)] [illustration: figure .--master and link connecting rods. u.s. navy test, . (smithsonian photo a a.)] [illustration: figure .--crankshaft with automatic-timing retarding device on rear end of pivoted- and spring-mounted counterweights. u.s. navy test, . (smithsonian photo a b.)] [illustration: figure .--propeller hub and vibration damper. u.s. navy test, . (smithsonian photo a a.)] crankshaft: since this engine developed the high maximum cylinder pressure of psi, it was necessary to protect the crankshaft from the resulting heavy stresses. without such protection the crankshaft would be too large and heavy for practical aeronautical applications. although the maximum cylinder pressures were times as great as the average ones, they were of short duration. the method of protecting the crankshaft took full advantage of this fact. it consisted of having the counterweights flexibly mounted instead of being rigidly bolted, as was common practice. the counterweights were pivoted on the crank cheeks. powerful compression springs absorbed the maximum impulses by permitting the counterweights to lag slightly, yet forced them to travel precisely with the crank cheeks at all other times. propeller hub: the propeller is, of course, subject to the same stresses as the crankshaft. instead of being rigidly bolted to the shaft as was common practice, it was further protected from excessive acceleration forces by being mounted in a rubber-cushioned hub. this permitted the use of a lighter propeller and hub. valves: a further weight saving resulted from the use of a single valve for each cylinder instead of two as in the case of conventional gasoline aircraft engines. (a diesel engine designed in this manner loses less efficiency than a gasoline one because only air is drawn in during the intake stroke.) in addition to the weight saving brought about by having fewer parts in the valve mechanism, there was an additional advantage since the cylinder heads could be made considerably lighter. [illustration: figure .--cylinder disassembly, showing valve and fuel injector. u.s. navy test, . (smithsonian photo a d.)] diesel cycle features although woolson designed the ingenious weight-saving features, dorner was responsible for the engine's diesel cycle which employed the "solid" type of fuel injection. in order to understand dorner's contribution, a brief description of the type of diesel injection pioneered by dr. rudolf diesel is necessary. his system injected the fuel into the cylinder head with a blast of air supplied by a special air reservoir at a pressure of psi or more. known as the "air blast" type of injection it produced good turbulence, with the fuel and air thoroughly mixed before being ignited. such mixing increases engine efficiency, but it involves the provision of bulky and costly air-compressing apparatus which can absorb more than percent of the engine's power. naturally the compressor also adds considerably to the engine's weight. in contrast to this, a "solid" type of fuel injection may be employed to eliminate the complications of the "air blast" system. it consists of injecting only fuel at a pressure of psi or more. air is admitted by intake stroke, as with a gasoline engine. turbulence is induced by designing the combustion chamber and piston so as to give a whirling motion to the air during the intake stroke. the following quotation from dorner now becomes readily understandable. "since my invention consisted in eliminating the highly complicated compressor and in injecting directly such a highly diffused fuel spray so that a quick first ignition could be depended upon. by means of rotating the air column around the cylinder axis, fresh air was constantly led along the fuel spray to achieve completely sootless burning-up.... in i sold my u.s.a. patents to packard."[ ] valve ports: the inlet port (which was also the exhaust port) was arranged tangentially to the cylinder. this design imparted a very rapid whirling motion to the incoming air, thereby aiding the combustion process. engine efficiency and rpm were both increased. fuel injector pumps: a combination fuel pump and nozzle was provided for each cylinder in contrast to the usual system of having a multiple pump unit remotely placed with regard to the nozzles. the former system was adopted after frequent fuel-line failures were experienced due to the engine's vibration. woolson stated that his system prevented pressure waves, which interfered with the correct timing of the fuel injection, from forming in the tubing. leigh m. griffith, vice president of emsco aero, writing in the september , _s.a.e. journal_ stated: "regarding the superiority claim for the simple combination of fuel pump and injection valve into one unit, without connecting piping, the author entirely overlooks the fact that the elasticity of a pipe and its contained fuel can be important aids in securing that extremely abrupt beginning and ending of injection which is so desirable." [illustration: figure .--fuel-injector disassembly. u.s. navy test, . (smithsonian photo a c.)] a major advantage obtained from combining the fuel pump and injection valve is the ability of an engine so equipped to burn a wide variety of fuels. the elimination of the above-mentioned type of high-pressure tubing reduces the possibility of a vapor lock occurring, thereby permitting more volatile fuels to be burned. this increases the range of hydrocarbon fuels the engine can utilize. it could run on any type of hydrocarbon from gasoline to melted butter.[ ] another reason for combining the fuel pump and injection valve is given by p. e. biggar in _diesel engines_ (published in by the macmillan company of canada ltd., toronto): "in the dorner pump, for example, the stroke of the plunger is changed by using a lever-type lifter and moving the push-rod along the lever to vary its movement. unfortunately, in all arrangements of this sort, the plunger comes to a reluctant and weary stop, as the roller of the lifter rounds the nose of the cam. when the movement does finally end, the injection does not necessarily stop, as the compressed fuel in the injection pipe is still left to dribble miserably into the combustion chamber. to minimize this defect, the designer has placed the pump and injector together in a single unit." [illustration: figure .--mechanism for retarding valve and fuel-injection timing during starting (see also fig. ). u.s. navy test, . (smithsonian photo a e.)] [illustration: figure .--upper--valve and fuel injector cam; lower--fuel-injector cam used for starting. u.s. navy test, . (smithsonian photo a .)] starting system: on november , , c. h. wiegman, vice president of engineering of the lycoming division of avco corporation wrote to the museum in part as follows: early in the development it became quite evident that cold starting was a problem. this was finally worked out by packard through the use of glow plugs and speeding up the injectors during the cranking period. it had been felt that during the slow cranking process we were not vaporizing the fuel through the nozzles and that if we could speed up the injection pumps during this period of cranking a better vaporization could be obtained. our tests showed that we were right, and that the engine could be started quite easily at minus ° f through the use of glow plugs. the method used for speeding up the injection pumps was accomplished by utilizing a crankshaft cam during the cranking period. the starter would shift the running cam out of position allowing the crankshaft cam to take over. after the engine fired, the starter was disengaged and the running injector pump cam would assume its original position. the starting cam would be run at engine speed during cranking, and the running cam at / reverse engine speed during engine operation. the shifting was accomplished by a pin-in-slot and spring arrangement to change the indexing of the cams to starting position and return. an eclipse electric starter with an oversized flywheel was used.... this was powered by a double-sized battery. development air shutters: the first engines had no provision for throttling the intake air. this allowed the engine to run on its own lubricating oil when the throttle was in idle position. as a result the engine idled too fast, thereby causing either excessive taxiing speeds or rapid brake wear. this inability to idle slowly also caused high landing speeds since the propeller did not turn slowly enough to act as an airbrake. figure shows the first model. note that the tubular air intakes on top of the cylinders have no valves. figure shows a later model. note the butterfly valves in the u-shaped air intakes. here they are shown fully opened. when the throttle was placed in idle position these valves automatically closed and prevented air from flowing past them. air could then only enter from the back of the intakes. since less air could flow into the cylinders, the force of their explosions was reduced, which, in turn, lowered the idling revolutions per minute. figure shows a cylinder from a more advanced model. note the circular opening between the air intake and the intake/exhaust housing. a barrel type of valve fitted into this opening. one of these valves can be seen just below and to the left of the cylinder. when the throttle was placed in idle position this valve rotated to a position which cut off almost all of the airflow into its cylinder. this increased the vacuum formed toward the end of the intake stroke, thereby causing more resistance, which reduced the idling rpm to that of a gasoline engine.[ ] [illustration: figure .--front left view of engine from packard motor car co. -hour test, , showing butterfly valve type venturi throttles. (smithsonian photo a e.)] [illustration: figure .--front left view of engine from u.s. navy test, , showing spiral oil cooler. (smithsonian photo a a.)] crankcase: it was strengthened by having external ribs added. note the contrast between the first engine, figure , and a later model, figure . oil cooler: the drum-shaped honeycombed cooler was replaced by a spiral pipe type located between the engine cowl and the crankcase. figure shows an example of the former type of cooler located at the top of the engine between two of the cylinders. figure illustrates the latter type located between the cowling and the crankcase. cylinder fastening: early models had their cylinders strapped and bolted to the crankcase. later ones had them only strapped. figure shows a bolt-fastened clamp between two of the cylinders on the first engine. figure shows a later model without any bolts holding down the cylinders. pistons: the pistons used in the engine had one compression ring and one oil scraper ring above the piston pin, and one oil scraper ring below it. there were three grooves, two above the piston pin, and one below it.[ ] pistons used in had two compression rings, one oil scraper ring above the piston pin, and one oil scraper ring below it. there were four grooves, three above the piston pin, and one below it.[ ] the pistons had one compression ring above the piston pin, and one compression ring and four oil scraper rings below it. there were four grooves, one above the piston pin, and three below it.[ ] [illustration: figure .--modified pistons after endurance run. u.s. navy test, . (smithsonian photo a d.)] combustion chamber: in the contour of the cylinder head was changed slightly. this improved the combustion efficiency to the extent that the stroke of the fuel pumps could be decreased about percent. the specific fuel consumption then decreased about percent. in addition the compression ratio was reduced from : to : .[ ] these changes were designed to eliminate smoke from the exhaust at cruising speed, and to reduce it at wide-open throttle. valves: a two-valve-per-cylinder model was built, but not put into production. it featured more horsepower ( ), a higher rate of revolutions per minute ( ), and a better specific fuel consumption (about . lb/hp/hr).[ ] capt. woolson designed the production model with a single large valve for each cylinder. this was done in order to shorten the development period, for it is easier to design a single valve which serves both the intake and exhaust functions than one valve for each function. not only are there fewer parts, but more important, there are no heat-dissipating problems. although the single valve is heated when it releases the exhaust gases, it is immediately cooled by the incoming air of the next cycle. this cooling advantage is not shared by a valve which only passes exhaust gases.[ ] cylinder head: ribs were added to increase its rigidity (compare fig. with fig. ). engine size: a -hp model was developed in . it was not put into production.[ ] comments comments of aeronautical engineers: these comments appeared in _aviation_ for february , , just a month before the packard diesel received its approved-type certificate. they were in answer to the question, "what is your opinion of the probable early future of the compression ignition type of engine in aircraft powerplants?" most of the engineers were enthusiastic about the diesel engine's future in aviation; however, neither george j. mead nor c. fayette taylor shared their colleagues' opinions. mead's prophesy was accurate except for his discounting the diesel's role in lighter-than-air craft. taylor was correct in implying that there was a future for the diesel in powering airships. george j. mead (vice president and technical director, pratt & whitney aircraft company): compared with the present otto cycle engine, the diesel powerplant weight, including fuel for a long-distance flight, would apparently be less. it is doubtful whether there would be any saving if the orthodox engine were operated on a more suitable fuel. inherently the diesel engine must stand higher pressures and therefore is heavier per horsepower. a partial solution of this difficulty is the two-cycle operation, which seems almost a requirement if the diesel cycle is to be considered at all for aircraft. for any normal commercial operation in the united states there seems to be little or no improvement to be had from the diesel. after all, it is not entirely a question of fuel cost but payloads carried for a given horsepower. it seemed at one time as though the diesel was particularly desirable for zeppelin work. now that blau gas has been introduced, which obviates the need of valving precious lifting gas, the diesel cycle seems much less interesting for this purpose. there may be a reduction in fire hazard and radio interference with the diesel cycle, but it is doubtful whether it will be used in view of these considerations alone. c. fayette taylor (professor of aeronautical engineering, massachusetts institute of technology): "i believe that the compression ignition engine will continue to remain in the experimental stage during the year . i should expect its first really practical installation to be in lighter-than-air craft." p. b. taylor (acting chief engineer, wright aeronautical corporation): "i believe the compression ignition engine is probably the type which will eventually supersede the present electric ignition units. this development will come slowly and will not be a solid injection engine." henry m. mullinnix (former chief of powerplant section, navy bureau of aeronautics): the advantages of compression-ignition, including reduced fire hazard, more efficient cycle, elimination of electrical apparatus and hence of radio interference, elimination of carburetion problems, and other benefits less evident, would seem to outweigh the difficulties encountered in metering and injecting minute quantities of fuel at the proper instant. although the diesel engine suffers upon comparison with the otto cycle engine in flexibility there seems to be a definite field for employment of diesels and a gradual extension of their use may be predicted. john h. geisse (chief engineer, comet engine corporation): "i am firmly convinced that the diesel engine in the future will not only maintain the advantages of diesel engines as they are now known, but will also be lighter in pounds per horsepower than the present otto engines." lt. cdr. c. g. mccord (u.s. navy, naval aircraft factory): "the use of compression ignition in due time appears to be assured; but increase in weights above those of present otto cycle engines, to insure reliability, must be expected." l. m. woolson (aeronautical engineer, packard motor car company): "there is no question that the compression ignition aircraft engine will in time offer severe competition to the gasoline engine. there are, however, many basic problems to be solved for the solution of which there exists no precedent." n. n. tilley (chief engineer, kinner airplane and motor corp.): considerable development of the compression ignition type of engine for aircraft will be required before it is commonly available. it is believed that the weight per horsepower must be equal to, or less than, that of the present type of engines, in order to interest the public, since rapid take-off, rate of climb, and speed are desired, rather than low fuel consumption or high mileage. most flights are of few hours duration. it is believed that flights must be of over five or six hours duration in order to show any advantage of diesel engines (with low fuel consumption) if appreciably heavier than present engines. also the difference between otto cycle and diesel becomes slight as the compression ratios come closer together. comments of flight crews: the preceding comments were made by engineers thinking primarily of the commercial possibilities of the diesel. following are comments by flight crewmembers about the operating characteristics of the packard diesel. the former were largely optimistic. most of them were only familiar with the aeronautical diesel as a design project and therefore did not have the practical experience necessary to understand all of its limitations. the latter were pessimistic, as they knew firsthand various shortcomings of the engine which only became apparent when it was operated. clarence d. chamberlin, pioneer pilot: my only experience with the packard diesel was in a lockheed "vega" which i owned back about . the wright j- had been replaced with the hp packard diesel. my main complaint was the excessive fumes. when i would come home at night my wife would greet me with, "you have been flying that oil burner again." it was so bad that passengers' clothing would smell like a smoky oil stove for hours after a flight. looking backward, it is my guess that the diesel would have had only a limited period of acceptance even if all mistakes had been avoided. it is easier and cheaper to get performance with lighter and more powerful engines and longer runways than by refining the airplane. fuel economy of an engine has ceased to be the deciding factor. higher utilization of a high speed jet at least in part offsets the inefficient use of fuel. the only time the diesel had a chance was from the middle 's perhaps on thru ww- for certain things due to gasoline shortage. to sum it up, the thing that licked them worst was the use of a single valve for inlet and exhaust making it impossible to collect and keep the fumes out of the fuselage.[ ] ruth nichols, prominent aviatrix: i was flying chamberlin's diesel-powered lockheed, in which a month before i had made an official altitude record for both men and women in aircraft powered by an engine of that type. the record, i believe, still holds. it was a rugged, dependable plane whose experimental oil-burning engine nevertheless had a number of bugs. for one thing, it was constantly blowing out glow-plugs used for warming the fuel mixture, and when that happened long white plumes of smoke would stream out, giving spectators the impression that the ship was on fire. for another, the vibration was so bad that out of standard instruments on the plane, were broken from the jarring before my return. the diesel fuel also produced a strong odor in the cockpit, the fumes so permeating my luggage and clothes that my public appearances during the tour always were highly and not very agreeably aromatic. having a strong stomach, i soon became accustomed to the fumes, but another pilot who ferried the plane between cities for me on one occasion ... was almost overcome. on arrival he said, "i wouldn't fly that oil burner another mile."[ ] [illustration: figure .--ford -at- trimotor, , with packard -hp dr- diesel engines, right side view of right engine nacelle. (smithsonian photo a .)] richard totten,[ ] airplane mechanic: the ford trimotor was the poorest of the lot. it was inherently noisy and slow, and with the packards installed it was on the point of being underpowered. it was almost impossible to synchronize the three engines, and the beat was almost unbearable. it was not flown much but it made a fine conversation piece standing on the airport apron.... the waco taperwing developed the unnerving habit of breaking flying and landing wires from the vibration, and most of the time sat on the hangar floor with its wings drooping like a sick pigeon. in flight the open cockpit filled with exhaust smoke and unburned fuel and the pilot would land after an hour's flight looking like an indianapolis mile race driver.... the stinson "detroiter," the bellanca "pacemaker" and the buhl-verville "airsedan" were the most successful ships and were the most used. the "airsedan," in which woolson was killed, was his favorite ship, and the one i believe that was the most flown. the towle ta- amphibian flew beautifully, but not for long. it never got a chance to do much as it was a victim of the depression. the towle was powered by packard diesels on loan from the packard motor car company. it was built of corrugated aluminum exactly like the ford trimotor. as a matter of fact, towle had been employed by ford until ford cancelled airplane building. towle got his airplane built at the hangar on grosse isle in detroit, and ran out of money during the flight testing program. he now looked for money to continue with and found a backer in the person of one doctor adams, a widely advertised "painless dentist" of detroit. adams wanted a quicker return on his money than the average backer and he insisted that towle put the airplane in service so it could start earning some money. at this time the amphibian was beginning to become popular for intercity flying, especially around the great lakes region as all of the major cities were located on the waterfront. what was more natural than an airline flying passengers right into the downtown area of a city? thompson was doing it between detroit and cleveland, marquette was doing it between detroit and milwaukee, so adams applied for permission to operate an airplane between detroit and cleveland and other cities on the lakes. in those days it was necessary to prove an airplane's reliability by flying a certain number of trips over the proposed route with a simulated payload. this payload was supposed to consist of sand bags, but usually consisted of any mechanic or pilot who happened to be loose at the moment, and who had nerve enough to go along. mechanics were easier to load and unload than sand bags. the towle was in the middle of the qualification flights, and the publicity began to appear about the new airline. much newsprint was devoted to the fact that the towle was powered by the new packard diesel engine, and this, of course, made it the only safe airline since all its competitors were using the old-fashioned dangerous gasoline. on the last payload trip of the towle the pilot asked me if i wanted to go along, and of course i was delighted. i neglected to mention that i had been hired by the adams airline as a mechanic because of my experience in repairing the corrugated skin of the ford trimotor owned by my employer, the knowles flying service. the mere fact that i did many repairs to the airframe did not preclude me from getting my share of the engine work too, and since i was already familiar with the packard diesel, i was quickly hired by dr. adams. the last flight was indeed the last flight. we took off from the detroit city airport and when we crossed the detroit river the pilot decided to land at the solvay coal company docks and fuel up for the opening of the airline the next day. the solvay coal company was the only place in detroit where diesel fuel was obtainable at the time and all of the diesel powered yachts got fuel there. the pilot was not too experienced in the operation of amphibians, and he put the wheels down as we approached the river. when we hit the water the airplane went over on its back and sunk to the bottom. it came up to the surface again, and we all climbed out onto the keel, and waited for rescue. a police boat came over and took us to the dock. the police sent us to the hospital and then went back and towed the airplane over to the shipyard next door to solvay. while we were at the hospital, the crane man hooked onto the towle and lifted it out of the water and gently set it down on the dock. he was only trying to help, but he inadvertently set it down on its back instead of its wheels. that was the end of the adams airline. the packard company took back their engines. i helped remove them the next day. we dismantled the airplane and trucked it back to the airport where it sat in a state of neglect for some time. the pilot was fired, i lost my job, and towle lost his airplane. analysis advantages a packard diesel advertisement which appeared in _aero digest_ for june stated that this engine had three major advantages over its gasoline rivals: greater reliability because of extreme simplicity of design; greater economy because of lower fuel cost plus lower fuel consumption, permitting greater payloads with longer range of flight; and greater safety because of removal of the fire hazard through the use of fire-safe fuel and absence of electrical ignition equipment. these were the engine's principal advantages. others are analyzed here by the author in order of their importance. at low altitudes the diesel uses an excess of air to eliminate a smoking exhaust; consequently at high altitudes, where the air is less dense, the diesel is still able to maintain much of its power. in contrast, the carburetored gasoline engine is sensitive to the fuel-air ratio and thus has no surplus air available at higher altitudes. a malfunctioning carburetor could cause a gasoline engine to cease operating, but an inoperative fuel injector would cause the packard diesel to lose one ninth of its power, since each cylinder had its own independently operating injector. in practice, however, because of the excessive vibration, the engine was generally shut off immediately after a cylinder cut out.[ ] shielding was unnecessary because the diesel had no electrical ignition system. carburetor icing was an impossibility because there was no carburetor. any excess lubricating oil in a diesel engine's cylinder is consumed cleanly to produce power. by contrast, such oil in a gasoline engine's cylinder is only partly burned. as a result carbon deposits form that eventually cause malfunctioning of the spark plugs, valves, and combustion chambers. this advantage accrued to the diesel because it utilized an excess of air, and in addition its cylinder walls were hotter. the engine was very clean-running from the standpoint of oil leakage. this was a safety factor since it eliminated the possibility of a fire starting on the outside surfaces of the engine, and in addition it saved the time and money that was normally spent cleaning engines.[ ] since the diesel utilized its heat of combustion more efficiently than the gasoline engine, its cooling fin area could be reduced by percent. this permitted better streamlining. having less cooling fin area, it warmed up more rapidly than a gasoline engine. [illustration: the packard-diesel aircraft engine fire-safe fuel _furnaces in many a home burn similar oil_ _a lighted match cannot ignite or explode it_ _saturated cloth can burn only like a wick_ _and the oil itself will quench this fire_ _but only when property atomized the spray may be ignited_ graphic proof of fuel safety in the packard-diesel aircraft engine figure .--advertisement emphasizing the advantages of fire-safe fuel. (smithsonian photo a .)] due to the greater simplicity, it was more practical to build a large diesel than a large gasoline engine. large airplanes would therefore need fewer engines if diesel powered. smaller fuel tanks could be used because of the greater fuel economy of the diesel, and also because of the high specific gravity of fuel oil as compared to gasoline. furthermore, these smaller tanks could be placed in more convenient locations. not having a carburetor the engine could not backfire, further reducing the fire hazard. the exhaust note was lower because of the diesel's higher expansion ratio. the absence of an ignition system permitted the diesel to operate in the heaviest types of precipitation. such conditions might cause the ignition system of a gasoline engine to malfunction. the packard diesel was flown at times without exhaust stacks or manifolds; this was practical from a safety standpoint because of the diesel's lower exhaust temperature due to its higher expansion ratio. elimination of these parts reduced the weight and cost of the engine installation. finally, the engine was ideal for aerobatics, since the injectors, unlike carburetors, would work equally well whether right side up or upside down. an advantage peculiar to the packard among aeronautical diesels was its light weight. the english beardmore "tornado iii" weighed . lb/hp, and the german junkers sl- (fo- ) weighed . lb/hp, while the packard weighed but . lb/hp. in fairness to the beardmore, it was the only one of the three engines designed for airship use, and part of its heaviness was due to the special requirements of lighter-than-air craft. a contemporary and comparable american gasoline engine, the lycoming r- , weighed . lb/hp. to have designed a diesel aircraft engine as light as a gasoline one was a remarkable achievement. disadvantages there are four main reasons why the packard diesel was not successful. first the packard motor car company put the engine into production a brief three years after it was created. the only successful airplane diesel, the german junkers "jumo," was in development more than three times as long ( - ). the following tests indicate that the packard diesel was not ready for production, and hence was unreliable. packard motor car company -hour test (feb. - , ): this test was identical to the standard army -hour test which was used for the granting of the approved type certificate. the engine tested was numbered , and was the first to be made with production tools (approximately half a dozen engines had been handmade previously). it had to be stopped three times, twice due to failure of the fuel pump plunger springs and once due to the loosening of the oil connection ring. these failures were attributed to manufacturing discrepancies. in addition, out of a total of valve springs broke.[ ] u.s. navy -hour test (jan. , , to march , ): the engine used in the navy test was numbered . (apparently only production engines had been built during the preceding months; dorner in a letter of march , , states that the total number of packard diesels produced was approximately .) the engine had to be stopped three times, twice due to valve-spring collar failures and once due to a valve head breaking. because of these failures this test was not completed. the following significant quotations have been extracted from the test: "the engine is not recommended for service use.... flight tests, until the durability of the engine is improved, be limited to a determination of the critical engine speeds, and to short hops in seaplanes.... it is believed that this size engine should be made suitable for service use before this type in a larger class is attempted." this latter statement probably refers to the -hp model. a year had passed between the making of engine and , yet the reliability had not improved. although unreliability was the immediate cause of failure, there were two design defects which would have doomed the engine even if it had been reliable. all the packard diesels were of the -stroke cycle unblown type, yet the most successful airplane diesels were of the -stroke cycle blown type.[ ] the advantages of the latter type for aeronautical use are that it is of a more compact engine, of lower weight and greater efficiency.[ ] the engine was therefore built around the wrong cycle. the packard diesel of was designed to compete with the wright j- "whirlwind" which powered lindbergh's "spirit of st. louis" in .[ ] the specifications were within two percent of each other. the diesel engine's fuel consumption was far less although its price was considerably higher. _packard diesel_ _wright j- _ _dr- _ _"whirlwind"_ diameter (in.) - / horsepower weight (lb) weight-horsepower ratio . . fuel consumption (lb per hp/hr at . . cruising). cost $ $ the advantages of lower fuel cost and greater cruising range offered by the diesel engine would be relatively unimportant to a private pilot flying for pleasure, but would be vital to the commercial operator using airplanes powered by engines having several times the horsepower of the packard diesel. its size, moreover, was too small for the technology of fuel injectors.[ ] the packard company realized that the production engine was too small.[ ] in a -hp version was built but was not put into production, probably because of the unreliability of the -hp model. the fourth principal reason why the engine failed is explained by the following quotation from _the propulsion of aircraft_, by m. j. b. davy (published in by his majesty's stationery office, london): although the development and adoption for transport purposes of the relatively high-speed compression ignition engine has been rapid during the last few years, there has been no corresponding advance in its adoption for aircraft propulsion. a reason for this is the recent great advance in "take-off" power in the petrol (gasoline) engine due to the introduction of octane fuel (which permits higher compression ratios) and the strong probability of octane fuels in the near future, still further increasing this power. the need for increased take-off power results from the higher wing loading necessitated by the modern demand for commercial aircraft with higher cruising speeds with reasonable power expenditure. production of the packard diesel ceased in . during that same year the pratt & whitney aircraft company and the wright aeronautical corporation specified -octane fuel for certain of their engines. less than years later octane ratings had increased to over , putting the diesel at a further disadvantage.[ ] although the above disadvantages sealed the packard diesel's fate, there were other minor reasons for its failure. the packard diesel had the highest maximum cylinder pressure (up to psi at peak rpm) of any proven contemporary aircraft diesel engine. leigh m. griffith, vice president and general manager, emsco aero engine company, had this to say about the packard diesel's high maximum cylinder pressure in the september _s.a.e. journal_: the designers considered it necessary to adopt unusual but admittedly clever expedients to counteract the great torque irregularity caused by the excessive maximum pressure. the adoption of the lower pressure of lbs. would have eliminated the necessity for the pivoted spring-mounted counterweights and the shock-absorbing rubber propeller-drive.... the use of such high pressures is in reality the quick and easy way to secure high-speed operation and can be justified only from this standpoint, although the resulting increased difficulty in keeping the engine light enough was a strong offsetting factor.[ ] insofar as the engine life was concerned it is true that , -psi peak pressures were observed but the engine was so developed to withstand these pressures.... one of the most severe problems connected with the development of this engine was the piston ring sealing. special compression rings were made with no gaps and further work in this respect could have been used to advantage had the engine been kept in production.[ ] it is significant that in the packard diesel had a compression ratio of : , whereas in it has been reduced to : . this was probably done to reduce vibration and the problem of piston-ring sealing.[ ] the exhaust products had an unpleasant odor which was particularly objectionable during taxiing. professor c. fayette taylor, writing in the january issue of _aviation_, remarked about this fault: "one is inclined to question whether the disagreeable escaping of exhaust gas from the intake ports can be overcome, while still retaining the obvious advantages in weight and simplicity of the single valve." the engine exhaust deposited a black oily film. in fact some airplanes fitted with the packard diesel engine were painted black, so that soot deposits from the exhaust would not be noticed.[ ] since the passengers' and pilots' compartments were generally located behind the engines, and were not airtight, damage to clothing resulted. this fault could have been eliminated by the use of separate valves for the intake and exhaust systems. it was not possible to start the engine when the temperature dropped much below ° f unless glow plugs were used. these spark-plug-like devices, which were only used for starting, had resistance windings which glowed continuously when turned on. the additional heat glow plugs provided made starting an easy matter in the coldest weather; however, they complicated the design of an engine noted for its simplicity, and they used so much electricity that only a long flight would allow the generator to fully recharge the battery. h. r. ricardo, writing in the june , , issue of _the aeroplane_ said: "referring to the very fine achievement of the packard company of america in producing a small radial air-cooled heavy-oil engine, a petrol engine of similar design and with the same margin of safety would weigh less than - / lbs. per hp." the important point made is that a gasoline engine designed along the same lines as the packard diesel would weigh considerably less, but would then suffer from the packard's reduced structural safety factor. it is significant that as the packard developed, it became heavier.[ ] like other diesels, the packard cost more to build than a comparable gasoline engine, because of the type of construction required for the diesel's higher maximum cylinder pressures and the difficulty of machining the fuel injectors. having fuel injectors, the engine was more sensitive to dirt in the fuel system than a carburetor-equipped gasoline engine.[ ] the fuel injectors were "a crude and deficient mechanism" subject to rapid wear, and often these injectors caused smoking exhausts and high fuel consumptions.[ ] in the event of battery or starter failure, a comparable gasoline engine could be started by swinging the propeller. because of the engine's high compression, it would have been impossible to have hand-started a packard diesel this way. in a letter to the air museum, january , , dorner commented: "during my first demonstration (of high-speed diesel engines) in in california and later in detroit i learned from capt. woolson that the large transport airlines were controlled by oil companies which were not interested in (supplying) two different kinds of aircraft fuel, and in savings of fuel." the may issue of _aero digest_ had a full-page illustrated advertisement titled "announcing national distribution for texaco aerodiesel fuel." although distribution was limited, the american oil industry did not prevent the airplane diesel from becoming a success in the civil market. however, it is significant that the advertisement was placed by frank hawks of the texas company largely as a gesture of friendship to woolson.[ ] the situation in the military market was different, however, as testified by this quotation from the same letter. "the military administration, having paid all of the expenses for the testing period to that date ( ), came after the tests to the conclusion that the advantages of the diesel as compared to its disadvantages did not justify the great risk to procure and distribute two different kinds of fuel in case of war." two accidents, which received wide publicity and no doubt did considerable harm to the entire project, occurred to packard diesel-powered airplanes. the following quotation is from the _herald tribune_ for april , : "attica, new york--losing their bearings in a blinding snowstorm and mistaking the side of a snow-covered hill for a suitable landing place, three men, one of them capt. lionel m. woolson, aeronautical engineer for the packard motor company and adapter of the diesel engine to airplanes, were killed here today." [illustration: figure .--interior of bellanca, showing parker d. cramer, pilot (left), and oliver l. paquette, radio operator, just before taking off from detroit, michigan, on july , . (smithsonian photo a .)] the second of these accidents is described in the september issue of _u.s. air services_: columbus wanted to sail west beyond the limits set by the learned navigators of his time, and in much the same consuming fashion parker d. cramer wanted to show his generation and posterity that a subarctic air route to europe via canada, greenland, iceland, norway, and denmark was feasible.... on july , without any preliminary announcement, cramer left detroit in a diesel-engined bellanca, and following the course he took with bert hassel three years ago, he flew first to cochrane, on hudson bay. his next stop was great whales and then wakeham bay. from there he flew to pangnirtum, baffin land, and across the hudson straits to holsteinborg, greenland. he crossed the icecap at a point farther north than the routes that have been discussed heretofore, but almost on the most direct or great circle route from detroit to copenhagen. he was accompanied by oliver paquette, radio operator. they were on their way more than a week before they were discovered. to iceland, to the faroe islands, to the shetlands. they were taxiing across the little harbor of lerwick, shetland islands, when a messenger from the bank waved a yellow paper. it was a warning of gales on the coast east to copenhagen. cramer apparently thought it was an enthusiastic bon voyage, and, after circling the town, flew away. a swedish radio station reported a faint "hello, hello, hello" in english, but the plane was not seen again. as the result of a personal conversation with his brother, william a. cramer, in , the author learned that the fuselage and floats of the airplane were found six weeks later. since there was no indication of a heavy impact (not a single glass dial on the instrument panel was broken), a successful landing must have been made. several weeks later, a package was found wrapped in a torn oilskin containing instruments, maps, and a personal letter, all substantiating the evidence that the landing was successful. it can only be surmised that there was engine failure, probably due to a clogged oil filter.[ ] once before during the trip a forced landing had been made due to engine malfunctioning, and a successful takeoff was accomplished in spite of a moderately rough sea. this time, however, storm conditions probably made the takeoff impossible. as a final summary of the author's analysis of the packard diesel engine, it must be emphasized that although the engine burned a much cheaper and safer fuel more efficiently than any of its gasoline rivals, it was too unreliable to compete with them. even if it had been reliable, it was too small to be useful to the large transport operators, to whom its fuel economy would have appealed. in addition, this mechanism operated on the wrong cycle: -stroke, rather than the lighter, more compact, and more efficient blown -stroke cycle. lastly, it was doomed by the advent of high octane gasolines, first used while it was still in the development stage. these new fuels reduced the diesel's advantage resulting from low fuel consumption, and, in addition, gave the gasoline engine a definite advantage from the standpoint of performance. the packard diesel was a daring design but, for the reasons analyzed in this chapter, it could not meet this competition, and therefore failed to survive. appendix . agreement between hermann i. a. dorner and packard motor car company this agreement made this th day of august , by and between hermann dorner, of hanover, germany, hereinafter referred to as "licensor", and packard motor car company, a corporation of the state of michigan, united states of america, of detroit, michigan, hereinafter referred to as "licensee"; witnesseth, that whereas, licensor owns certain letters patent of the united states and other countries relating to oil burning engines under which he desires to license the licensee; whereas, licensee desires rights under said letters patent; now, therefore, for the mutual considerations hereinafter set forth, the parties have agreed as follows: . licensor warrants that he is the inventor of an oil burning engine, is the sole owner of united states patent number , , , dated may , , and united states patent applications, serial numbers , filed july , , and , and , , filed february , , relating to such engines and is joint or sole owner of patents or patent rights relating to said engines in england, germany and sweden. . licensor agrees to furnish the licensee at cost price but not exceeding thirty dollars ($ . ) cash, as many pump and nozzle units as are needed for use in building one or more experimental engines. . licensor hereby gives and grants unto licensee an exclusive license for the manufacture, within the united states and its dependencies, and a non-exclusive license for the use and sale, of engines for aircraft, and a non-exclusive license for the manufacture, use, and sale of engines for motor vehicles and motor boats, under said united states patent number , , , under all after-acquired patents and under all patents that may result from said patent applications, and from all other patent applications pertaining to his present oil burning engine or reasonable variations thereof, such licenses to extend for the full life and term of all such patents, provided however, that there is specially excepted from this grant--stationary engines, tractor engines, and engines for agricultural purposes. . licensor further hereby permits said licensee to export to all other countries and sell and use there, without further royalty, all engines made by licensee in the united states under this license. . licensor acknowledges receipt of one thousand dollars ($ , . ) in payment of a portion of the expenses heretofore incurred by him and as one of the considerations for this agreement. . licensor agrees to devote all time necessary from this date to november , to supervision of the design of an engine and construction thereof at the plant of the licensee and will in his absence furnish the services of a competent assistant, the expenses of licensor and assistant to be paid for by licensee at the rate of one thousand dollars ($ , . ) per month for the first three ( ) months, and five hundred dollars ($ . ) per month thereafter until the decision in paragraph eight has been made by licensee. . licensee agrees to build and test at least one experimental aircraft engine with special dorner features, and to take all reasonable measures to reach the stage of final test. all dorner feature engines made by licensee will be marked "licensed under dorner patents." . within one year after the completion of tests of the aircraft engine built by licensee hereunder, or in any event not later than november , , licensee will decide whether it will proceed with the manufacture of engines hereunder, or not. if licensee decides in the affirmative then it will pay licensor forthwith the sum of five thousand dollars ($ , . ) as advance on royalties and as minimum royalty for the first production year. if licensee decides in the negative for reasons which are under the influence of licensor, then licensee will give licensor notice and sufficient time to try to correct possible imperfections, and the time for final decision will be correspondingly extended. if the reasons for the negative decision are under the influence of licensee, then licensee will grant to licensor an oral conference at detroit and explain the reasons in detail. in event a negative decision is finally rendered by licensee this agreement may be terminated at any time thereafter upon sixty ( ) days' notice in writing to licensee and both parties released from all further obligations hereunder. . licensee agrees that if after three ( ) years from the date hereof licensee is not manufacturing and does not contemplate the manufacture of, a certain size and type of aircraft engine which licensor would like to grant another manufacturer the right to build and which would not reasonably compete with anything manufactured by licensee, licensee will release such size and type aircraft engine from the exclusiveness of this license and thereby permit licensor to grant a license to such other manufacturer to make, use and sell such engine and such engine only. . licensee agrees to pay royalty on all engines manufactured and sold or used under this agreement, based on effective brake horsepower under normal load, as follows: on each of the first five thousand ( , ) such engines produced and sold in any one calendar year, the royalty shall be at the rate of twenty-five cents ($. ) per horsepower; and on all over five thousand ( , ) in such calendar year, at the rate of ten cents ($. ) per horsepower; provided that, after a total of fifty thousand dollars ($ , . ) has been paid in royalties the royalties shall be reduced one-half ( / ). . after the beginning of the second year of production, licensee agrees that if the royalties under the above schedule amount to less than ten thousand dollars ($ , . ) per year then the royalty shall be ten thousand dollars ($ , . ) per year payable in quarterly instalments of two thousand five hundred dollars ($ , . ) each, or in other words, the minimum royalty payable shall be ten thousand dollars ($ , . ) per year. . royalties shall continue only during the life of said patent number , , , and when a total of two hundred fifty thousand dollars ($ , . ) has been paid by licensee to licensor, all royalties shall cease and the license hereunder shall be free thereafter. . licensor agrees that licensee shall have the benefit of any more favorable royalty rates that may be hereafter granted to or enjoyed by any other manufacturer of engines other than aircraft engines. . licensee agrees to keep proper books of account showing the number of engines manufactured and sold or used under this agreement and to report quarterly to licensor. . in case of suit against the licensee for infringement of patents by any of the dorner features built under this license licensor agrees to assist in the defense of any such suit and pay the expenses thereof up to an amount equal to ten percent ( %) of all royalties paid by licensee to licensor hereunder. . in event of default of the licensee in the payment of any of the sums herein provided for, licensor may terminate this license agreement by serving upon the licensee sixty ( ) days' notice in writing of its desire and determination so to do and stating the default upon which the notice is based, and at the expiration of such sixty ( ) days this license shall thereupon be terminated, provided however that such termination shall not release the licensee from obligations already accrued hereunder and not performed, and provided further that if, during said sixty ( ) days' notice period, the default named in said notice shall have been made good then this license to continue as if no default and notice had been made or given. . at the expiration of any one year from november , , licensee may terminate this agreement upon sixty ( ) days' notice in writing to licensor of its desire and determination so to do, provided however, that such termination shall not release the licensee from obligations already accrued hereunder and not performed. . in case of differences of opinion regarding any of the terms of this agreement, the dispute shall be submitted to arbitration. each party shall select one arbitrator and if they, after five days, fail to agree upon a third, the united states court for the detroit district shall be asked to appoint such a third arbitrator, and the decision of a majority of the arbitrators shall be binding upon both parties. in witness whereof, we have hereto set our hands and seals at detroit, michigan, on the day and year first above written. witnesses--(signatures): hermann dorner l. a. wright adolf widmann packard motor car company alvan macauley president (seal) attest: milton tibbetts assistant secretary . packard to begin building diesel plane engines soon _will start construction at once on new three story factory to handle work_ [from _aviation_, march , , vol. , no. ] detroit, mich.--indications that the diesel type airplane engine, recently developed by capt. l. m. woolson, chief aeronautical engineer of the packard motor car co., will become a commercial reality and possibly a revolutionary factor in airplane engine design, is seen here in the announcement of the concern that it will begin construction immediately of a $ , plant to produce the engines in large quantity for the commercial market. the new plant, according to the announcement by hugh j. ferry, treasurer of the packard firm, will be completed and in operation within five weeks. between and men will be employed and, according to expectations, production will be carried on at the rate of about diesel engines per month by july. the packard diesel was announced first in october, following experiments covering several years. the original engine was placed in a stinson-detroiter, which was flown successfully by captain woolson and walter lees, packard pilot. since that time captain woolson has built four of the engines, all of hp. capacity, developing hp. for every lb. of weight. the diesel, installed on the stinson-detroiter, it was said, now has had hr. flying time, and gives not the slightest indication that it will need an overhauling for some time. the other three engines have been tested on the block in the company's research plant. it is claimed by the builders that the packard diesel will produce a saving of about per cent. in fuel consumption as compared with engines using gasoline. it is claimed further that the diesel will prove far more reliable in construction than any airplane engine yet developed. evidence of this, it was pointed out, is seen in the performance of the initial diesel. details not announced although neither mr. ferry, nor captain woolson, would disclose any technical details as to the engine's construction in making it applicable to airplane use, the secret of its success was reported to be an especially designed pumping device creating high compression necessary for diesel firing. since announcement of the engine, the packard factory has been literally a mecca for engineers from many parts of the world wishing to see the engine. the crown prince of spain, in detroit last fall, was given a flight in the diesel powered stinson. none of the construction secrets, however, have been divulged, it was said. the packard announcement set at rest rumors that the company planned construction of a plant costing several million dollars, as well as reports that the company was going into the production of airplanes. "our efforts," mr. ferry said, "will be confined to the engine, or power plant end of the aircraft industry. we will continue to build the water-cooled type we have been producing for years." the new diesel plant will be primarily an assembly plant, although some machine work will be done there. the bulk of the machine work, however, will be done in the present packard machine shops. although no approximation of selling price on the new diesel was divulged, it was intimated that the engine will retail at a price competitive with or slightly under the price of present gasoline consuming air-cooled engines of that horsepower range. captain woolson will have complete charge of the diesel plant, it was announced. . effect of oxygen boosting on power and weight [from p. h. schweitzer and e. r. klinge, "oxygen-boosting of diesel engines for take-off," _the pennsylvania state college bulletin_ (april , ), vol. , no. , p. .] _practical conclusions_ airplanes require about one third more power during the take-off than in flight. in diesel-engined airplanes the size of the engine could be reduced by percent by feeding oxygen into the intake air during the takeoff. applying the results of the experiments to a transport plane, fig. shows the possible weight saving with various oxygen boosts. the curves are based on cruising horsepower and an estimated engine weight of lb per hp. for the take-off hp are necessary. to supply the additional hp, lb of oxygen are fed into the intake air during the take-off. the volume of lb of liquid oxygen is approximately gal. standard liquid air containers of litre capacity weigh lb. therefore the weight of the oxygen and container is lb while the possible saving in engine weight is lb. the weight per take-off horsepower is thereby reduced from to . lb. the calculation is shown in table . [illustration: figure .--effect of oxygen boost on power and weight. (cruising horsepower , takeoff horsepower .)] oxygen addition may be used for starting diesel engines. the raising of the oxygen concentration from the normal per cent to per cent was found to be equivalent to a raise of approximately cetane numbers as far as starting is concerned. five per cent increase in oxygen concentration eliminated exhaust smoke completely. table normal horsepower take-off horsepower normal fuel consumption . lb per hp-hr, or . lb per min normal air consumption lb per min normal oxygen consumption, per cent oxygen lb per min concentration boosted oxygen consumption, per cent oxygen lb per min concentration oxygen to be supplied lb per min weight of -hp engine , lb weight of boosted -hp engine , lb weight of oxygen for -min boost lb weight of container for lb of liquid oxygen lb net weight saving by oxygen boost lb weight per horsepower, nonboosted engine lb weight per horsepower, boosted engine . lb footnotes: [ ] appendix, p. . [ ] letter, hermann i. a. dorner to national air museum, march , . [ ] see p. ff. [ ] appendix, p. . [ ] _aeronautics_ (october ), vol. , no. , p. . [ ] _the packard diesel aircraft engine--a new chapter in transportation progress_ (detroit: packard motor car co., ), p. . [ ] a memorial to woolson who was killed in the crash of a packard diesel-powered verville "air sedan" on april , . [ ] _packard inner circle_ (april , ), vol. , no. , p. . [ ] _aero digest_ (february ), vol. , no. , p. . [ ] letter, richard totten to national air museum, january , . [ ] _instruction book for the packard-diesel aircraft engine_ (detroit: packard motor car company, ), p. . [ ] _s.a.e. journal_ (april ), vol. , no. , pp. and . [ ] letter, richard totten to national air museum, january , . [ ] letter, hermann i. a. dorner to national air museum, december , . [ ] _the national aeronautic magazine_ (april ), vol. , no. . p. . [ ] _aviation_ (may ), vol. , no. , p. . [ ] _the packard diesel aircraft engine_, p. . [ ] _instruction book for the packard-diesel aircraft engine_, p. . [ ] "test of packard-diesel radial air-cooled engine," navy department, bureau of aeronautics, report ael- , july , , bu. aer. proj. . [ ] _aviation_ (may ), vol. , no. , p. . [ ] letter, clarence h. wiegman to national air museum, november , . [ ] letter, dorner to national air museum, january , . [ ] letter, hugo t. byttebier to national air museum, october , . [ ] letter, clarence d. chamberlin to national air museum, february , . [ ] ruth nichols, _wings for life_ (philadelphia and new york: j. b. lippincott co., ), p. . [ ] letter, richard totten to national air museum, january , . [ ] letter, richard totten to national air museum, january , . [ ] _aero digest_ (february ), vol. , no. , p. . [ ] " -hour test of packard diesel aircraft engine," packard motor car company, detroit, michigan, serial no. , test no. - , february , . [ ] blower in this sense refers to a low-pressure air pump (supercharger) designed to increase cylinder scavenging efficiency by blowing out exhaust gasses. in doing this it also increases somewhat the amount of fresh air introduced into the cylinders. woolson invented a -stroke cycle blown engine; the patent was issued in (patent ) with rights assigned to the packard motor car company. (woolson himself died in .) [ ] a -stroke cycle engine completes ° of crankshaft rotation in what it takes a -stroke cycle engine ° to accomplish. a -cylinder two-stroke cycle engine therefore has the same capacity to do work as a -cylinder four-stroke cycle engine. for this reason the former type of engine is both more compact and lighter than the latter type. the above advantages, plus the increased efficiency of the blown -cycle diesel, are discussed in _flight--the aeronautical engineer supplement_ (december , ), vol. , no. , pp. and . [ ] packard advertisement--_aero digest_ (june ), vol. , no. , p. . [ ] _aviation_ (march , ), vol. , no. , p. . [ ] _the national aeronautic magazine_ (april ), vol. , no. ., p. . [ ] appendix, p. . [ ] see woolson's patent , issued in and assigned to the packard motor car company. "an object of my invention is to automatically regulate the compression ratio in an engine inversely to the speed...." see also his patent , issued in and assigned to the packard motor car company. it describes a similar but nonautomatic system. woolson therefore fully realized the disadvantages of the high cylinder pressures his engine developed at high rpm's. [ ] letter, clarence h. wiegman to national air museum, november , . [ ] ibid. [ ] major george e. a. hallet, u.s. air service, former director of engineering division, mccook field, dayton, ohio. [ ] "test of packard-diesel radial air-cooled engine," navy department, bureau of aeronautics, report ael- , july , , buaer proj. . [ ] _aviation week and space technology_ (february , ), vol. , no. , p. . [ ] _aeronautics_ (october ), vol. , no. , p. . [ ] letter, richard totten to national air museum, january , . [ ] according to frederic e. hatch of the national air museum, it is possible that the engine failed because the fuel injectors became clogged. he notes that the airplane refueled at several fishing ports, and therefore must have used diesel oil set aside for fishing boats. this oil was generally quite dirty. as a result it was routine for the fishermen to have to clean engine oil filters frequently enroute. the oil filters of the packard diesel could not be cleaned in flight. transcriber's notes: passages in italics are indicated by _underscore_. passages in bold are indicated by =bold=. the following misprints have been corrected: "crackcase" corrected to "crankcase" (page ) "is is" corrected to "it is" (page ) other than the corrections listed above, printer's inconsistencies in spelling, punctuation, and hyphenation usage have been retained. air service boys over the atlantic or the longest flight on record by charles amory beach contents chapter i out for business ii the rescue iii a bold project iv the rest billet v the air raiders vi striking a blow for liberty vii the battle in the air viii bombing the bridge ix convincing proof x groping for light xi the amazing plan xii gripped in suspense xiii off for the channel xiv ready for the start xv the long flight begun xvi the first night out xvii when the submarine struck xviii the cold hand of fear xix a desperate chance xx on the ice floe xxi attacked by a polar bear xxii when the iceberg rolled over xxiii the end of the flight xxiv surprising bridgeton xxv to see the war through--conclusion chapter i out for business "look! what does that mean, tom?" "it means that fellow wants to ruin the yankee plane, and perhaps finish the flier who went down with it to the ground." "not if we can prevent it, i say. take a nosedive, tom, and leave it to me to manage the gun!" "he isn't alone, jack, for i saw a second skulker in the brush, i'm sure." "we've got to drive those jackals away, no matter at what risk. go to it, tom, old scout!" the big battle-plane, soaring fully two thousand feet above the earth, suddenly turned almost upside-down, so that its nose pointed at an angle close to forty-five degrees. like a hawk plunging after its prey it sped through space, the two occupants held in their places by safety belts. as they thus rushed downward the earth seemed as if rising to meet them. just at the right second tom raymond, by a skillful flirt of his hand, brought the yankee fighting aircraft back to an even keel, with a beautiful gliding movement. immediately the steady throb of the reliable motor took up its refrain, while the buzz of the spinning propellers announced that the plane was once more being shot through space by artificial means. the two occupants were tom raymond and jack parmly, firm friends and chums who had been like david and jonathan in their long association. it was tom who acted as pilot on the present occasion, while jack took the equally important position of observer and gunner. both were young americans with a natural gift in the line of aviation. they had won their spurs while serving under french leadership as members of the famous lafayette escadrille. the adventures they encountered at that time are related in the first book of this series, entitled: "air service boys flying for france." after america entered the war, like all other adventurous young yankee fliers, the two air service boys offered their services to their own country and joined one of the new squadrons then being formed. here the two youths won fresh laurels, and both were well on the way to be recognized "aces" by the time pershing's army succeeded in fighting its way through the nests of machine-gun traps that infested the great argonne forest. it was in the autumn of the victory year, , and the german armies were being pushed back all along the line from switzerland to the sea. under the skillful direction of marshal foch, the allies had been dealing telling and rapid blows, now here, now there. to-day it was the british that struck; the day afterward the french advanced their front; and next came the turn of the americans under pershing. everywhere the discouraged and almost desperate huns were being forced in retreat, continually drawing closer to the border. already the sanguine young soldiers from overseas were talking of spending the winter on the rhine. some even went so far as to predict that their next christmas dinner would be eaten in berlin. it was no idle boast, for they believed it might be so, because victory was in the very air. so great was the distress of the hun forces that it was believed marshal foch had laid a vast trap and was using the fresh and enthusiastic yankees to drive a dividing wedge between ludendorff's two armies, when a colossal surrender must inevitably follow. the whole world now knows that this complete break-up of the teutons was avoided solely by their demand for an armistice, with an agreement on terms that were virtually a surrender--absolute in connection with their navy. tom and jack had displayed considerable ability in carrying out their work, and could no longer be regarded as novices. each of them had for some time been anticipating promotion, and hoped to return home with the rank of lieutenant at least. they had been entrusted with a number of especially dangerous missions, and had met with considerable success in putting these through. like most other ambitious young fliers, they hoped soon to merit the title of "ace," when they could point to at least six proven victories over rival pilots, with that number of planes sent down in combat. on the present occasion they had sallied out "looking for trouble," as jack put it; which, in so many words, meant daring any hun flier to meet them and engage in a duel among the clouds. other planes they could see cruising toward the northwest, and also flying in an easterly direction; but as a rule these bore signs of being allies' machines, and in all probability had yankee pilots manning them. apparently the hun airmen were otherwise employed. they seemed to prefer venturing out after nightfall, gathering in force, and often taking a strange satisfaction in bombing some red cross hospital, where frequently their own wounded were being treated alongside the american doughboys. during the weeks that the americans were battling in the great argonne forest the two air service boys had contributed to the best of their ability to each daily drive. again and again had they taken part in such dangerous work as fell to the portion of the aviators. their activities at that time are set down in the fifth volume of this series, entitled: "air service boys flying for victory." frequently they had found themselves in serious trouble, and their escapes were both numerous and thrilling. through it all they had been highly favored, since neither of them had thus far met with a serious accident. numbers of their comrades had been registered as "missing," or were known to have been shot down and lost. it was no unusual thing a few days after a flier had gone out and failed to return at evening, for a hun pilot to sail over and drop a note telling that he had fallen in combat, and was buried at a certain place with his grave so marked that it could be easily found. there seemed to be a vein of old-time chivalry among the german airmen even up to the very last, such as had not marked any other branch of their fighting forces, certainly not the navy. and the americans made it a point to return this courtesy whenever an opportunity arose. tom was proud of his ability to execute that difficult feat known as a "nose-dive." more than once it had extricated him from a "pocket" into which he found himself placed by circumstances, with three or more enemy planes circling around and bombarding him from their active guns. at such times the only hope of the attacked pilot lay in his ability to drop down as if his machine had received a fatal blow and when once far below the danger point again to recover an even keel. jack never doubted what the result would be, having the utmost confidence in his comrade. the wind rushed past his ears as they pitched downward; and just when objects on the ground loomed up suggestively there was the expected sudden shift of the lever, a consequent change in the pointing of the plane's nose, and then they found themselves on the new level, with the motor again humming merrily. jack was on the alert and quickly discovered the object that just then enlisted their whole attention. as he had suspected when using the glasses from the higher level, it was a yankee bomber that lay partly hidden among the bushes where it had fallen. he could easily see the indian head marking the broken wing. the pilot was sitting near by as though unable to make a run for it, although jack imagined he must suspect the approach of danger, for he gripped something that glinted in the sunlight in his right hand. it was, of course, an automatic pistol. looking hastily around jack glimpsed the creeping figures of the two germans who, having seen the fall of the yankee plane, must have come out from some place of concealment and were bent on finishing the pilot, or at least taking him prisoner. they had almost reached a point where it would have been possible for them to open fire on the wounded american. jack looked in vain for any second figure near the fallen plane. if the pilot had had an observer with him, which was most likely, considering the fact that he had been using a bombing machine, the latter must have been dispatched for relief some time before. "there they are, tom!" burst from the one who crouched close to the machine gun, and pointing as he spoke. "swoop down and let me give them a volley!" the huns evidently realized what was coming, and feared that their intended victim might after all escape their hands. even as jack spoke there came a shot from below, and a bullet went screaming past close to the ears of the air service boys. it was followed by a second and a third in quick succession. what the marksmen hoped to do was either to kill the pilot or else to strike some vulnerable part of the engine, thus disabling it and wrecking the plane. those were chances which had to be taken continually; but as a rule the rapidity of flight rendered them almost negligible. jack waited no longer. the two men were about to fling themselves behind friendly trees, and but a small chance remained that he might catch them before they were able to shield themselves by these close-by trunks. jack, in his most energetic fashion, commenced to spray the vicinity with a shower of leaden missiles. the chatter of the machine gun drowned any cries from the two men below. the yankee plane swooped past the spot where the injured pilot still sat at bay, ready to sell his life dearly if the worst came. chapter ii the rescue the rat-tat-tat of gunfire suddenly ceased. jack could no longer cover the spot where the two huns were hiding behind the tree-trunks, and consequently it would be a sheer waste of ammunition to continue firing. but already tom had commenced to circle, and soon they would be swooping down upon the scene from another direction. jack kept on the alert, so as to note quickly any possible movement of the enemy. again he poured a hot fire on the place where he knew the germans were cowering, tearing up the ground with a storm of bullets as though it had been freshly harrowed. but the sturdy trees baffled him once more. "nothing doing, tom!" he called out, vexed. "we've got to drop down and go it on foot if we want to save that pilot!" "i see a good landing place!" announced the other almost instantly. "great luck! get busy then!" the ground chanced to be unusually smooth, and the plane, after bumping along for a short distance, came to a stand. meanwhile, both young fliers had succeeded in releasing themselves from their safety belts. together they jumped to the ground and started on a run toward the spot where those crouching figures had last been seen. of course, the huns must already know of their landing and would be ready to defend themselves, if not to attack; but, nothing daunted by this possibility, the pair pushed ahead through bushes and past trees. "better separate, and attack 'em from two different angles, hadn't we, tom?" panted jack presently, as a shot was heard and something clipped a twig from a bush within a foot of his hand. "take the left, and i'll look after the right!" snapped out tom. both were armed with automatic pistols, for airmen can never tell when their lives may depend upon their ability to defend themselves, and so seldom make a flight without some such weapon in their possession. "they're on the run!" cried jack, in a tone of disgust; for he had really hoped to have a further brush with the skulking enemy. he sent several shots in their direction whenever he caught glimpses of the bounding figures, but without much hope of striking either of them. still, they had undoubtedly accomplished the business in hand, which was to save the yankee pilot. "he's over this way, jack," observed tom, moving to the right still further, after being joined by his comrade. "i can see the opening where he must have struck. the hun flier didn't bother to follow him down and find out if he'd made a count. he may have been here for some time." "i see him now," continued jack eagerly. "and it strikes me there's something familiar about his looks. yes, we've met that pilot before, tom. it's lieutenant colin beverly, one of the cleverest yankee aces of the newer squad." the aviator had already discovered the air service boys' presence. doubtless all that had occurred had been noted by him as he sat, waiting for anything that might happen; and the swoop of the american plane, as well as jack's firing, had of course told him help was near. "he's waving his hand to us," continued jack, answering in kind. "keep your gun ready for business," warned the other, inclined to be more cautious. "there may be other huns prowling around, because we're not far from their lines, you understand." a minute afterwards they reached the pilot of the wrecked bomber. "hello, fellows!" was his familiar greeting, as he thrust a hand out toward them. "glad to see you, all right. they were after me, just as i suspected. my observer was wounded in the arm, but went for help. as for me, save for a few scratches, i made the fall in great luck. but i'm still crippled from that other accident. just got out of hospital a week ago. they tried to keep me from going up, but i'd have died only for the permission." colin beverly they knew to be one of the liveliest fliers then serving in the american ranks. he had gained a name for daring second to none. early in his service he had won a reputation, and was already a double ace; which meant that he was officially credited with at least twelve victories over enemy fliers. tom and jack had met him a number of times previously, and there had always been a strong attraction between the three. lieutenant beverly was one of fortune's favorites in so far as worldly riches went, since he had a million at least to his credit, it was said. he had enlisted as soon as the united states entered the war, and had chosen aviation as his branch of the service, since it offered his venture-venturesome, almost reckless, spirit a chance for action. he had had numerous escapes so narrow that his friends began to believe some magical charm must protect him. as he had mentioned when speaking to them on their arrival, his closest call had sent him to the hospital with a fractured bone in his left leg; and even when discharged as cured he really should not have returned to the harness; only, those in authority found it difficult to keep such an energetic soul in check. "those chaps will come back with more of their kind, i reckon," tom remarked. "they've made up their minds to get you, lieutenant, and when a hun is bent on a thing he keeps on trying. we can take you along with us." "i hate to desert the bus," complained the other, giving his wrecked plane a wry look. "but then what's the use of sticking it out? chances are we'll be through the mess before they ever get it in fighting trim again. yes, i'll go along, boys, if you'll lend me a shoulder. gave that game leg another little knock in falling; but then, i might have broken my neck, so i'm thankful." "the beverly luck again!" chuckled jack, at which the intrepid flier nodded with kindling eyes. "getting to believe i can carry anything through i care to tackle, for a fact, fellows," he remarked, with the same amazing confidence that had taken him along so many times in a whirlwind of success. they ranged alongside, and he leaned on tom's arm as he limped off, giving no further heed to the mass of damaged engine, crumpled wood, bent steel guys, and torn canvas that had once been a powerful bombing plane. jack kept in readiness to meet any attack that might spring up, though they had reason to believe the huns had temporarily withdrawn from the field of action. "your friend harry leroy dropped in to see me while i was laid up, raymond," remarked the lieutenant, with a broad grin, as he saw how his words caused the color to flash into the bronzed cheeks of the other. "haven't seen harry for some time," tom replied, his eyes twinkling with pleasure; "but i heard of you through his sister. nellie said you were the hardest patient she'd ever tackled, because you kept fretting to get out and be at work again." "yes, miss leroy was my nurse for a week, and i think i improved more under her care than at any other time. she's a fine girl, raymond." "sure thing, lieutenant. i ought to know," came the unabashed answer. "i've known nellie for some time, and that was always my opinion. we're good friends all right." "h'm! i guess you must be," chuckled the other. "i wish you could have seen her look when i mentioned that i knew you well, and liked you in the bargain. i kept talking tom raymond a full streak just to watch the blushes play over her face and the light shine in her eyes. raymond, you're a lucky dog." "here's our plane, and we'll soon be able to get going with such a smooth bit of ground ahead," tom hastened to remark, though it was easy to see that what the other said had thrilled him. "all aboard!" sang out jack, after a last quick look around. "no huns in sight, as far as i can see." the ascent was easily made, for, as tom had said, they were favored with an unusually level stretch of ground beyond, over which the plane rolled decently until the pilot switched his lever and they started to soar. from some place close by an unseen enemy commenced to fire again, but without success. once fully on their way, the danger faded out of sight. again they were spinning through space, with the earth fading below them. "back home, tom?" called out jack, and the pilot nodded an affirmative. swiftly they sped, and presently were dropping back to earth at the spot whence their outgoing flight had started. here there were evidences of bustle, with planes coming and going all the while. couriers could be seen on horses or motorcycles speeding away with important news to be sent from the nearest field telephone station in touch with division headquarters. the landing was made without incident, though curious glances were cast in their direction. many knew that tom and his chum had made their ascent without a third passenger, and the presence of lieutenant beverly announced that some sort of tragedy of the air had occurred. a number of other pilots swooped down upon them to learn the particulars. as usual they were inclined to be jocular, and greeted the limping beverly with a volley of questions, as well as remarks concerning that "luck" of which he had talked. "they can't get you, no matter how they try, beverly," one called out. "another machine to the scrap-heap!" laughingly observed the most celebrated of yankee aces, slapping colin on the shoulder. "makes an even dozen for you i understand. planes may come and planes may go but you go on forever. well, long may you wave, old chap! here's wishing you luck. so the boys picked you up, did they? nice work, all right." "just in time, too," confessed beverly, "because there were some huns on the way to finish me that had to be chased off." tom had been noticing something which he thought a bit strange. it was a way lieutenant beverly had of looking at him curiously, as if deciding something in his mind which had suddenly gripped him. "is there anything else we can do for you, lieutenant?" he finally asked, when they had left the bevy of pilots and mechanics behind and were heading toward their quarters; for tom wished to see the other comfortable before he and jack ascended once more. "i don't believe there is--at present," the other slowly replied. "but this accidental meeting may develop into something worth while; that is, if you chaps would care to join me in a sensational flight." at hearing these words jack began to show a sudden interest. "if you know anything about us, lieutenant!" he exclaimed eagerly, "you ought to understand that we've always been willing to tackle any job coming our way." "this one," continued the other gravely, "promises to be an unusually dangerous enterprise that if successful, will be sure to win the crew of the big bombing plane tremendous honors and perhaps rapid advancement." "you're only exciting us more and more by saying that," said tom. "suppose you explain what it is, and then we could decide whether we'd want to join you or not." "my sentiments exactly," added jack. lieutenant beverly looked from one face to the other. he seemed to be mentally weighing the chances of his ever being able to run across two more promising candidates for the honor of sharing his secret than the pair of ambitious lads then in touch with him. as though his decision was taken he suddenly exclaimed: "it's a go, then! i'll let you into my little secret, which so far hasn't been shared by a single living man. then later on you can decide if you care to accept the risk for the sake of the glory success would bring, as well as striking a blow for the flag we all love!" chapter iii a bold project "pitch in, please!" urged the impatient jack parmly. "listen, then, boys," commenced the other earnestly. "you doubtless know that i've got more money than is good for any single man to handle? well, i've squandered a small bunch of it in having a wonderful plane made and sent abroad. of course it's intended to be handed over to the government in due course of time, but with the proviso that they allow me to engineer the first long flight in it." "that sounds interesting, lieutenant," admitted jack, apparently considerably impressed. "tell us some more about it, please," urged the practical tom. "it's possibly by long odds the largest bombing plane that so far has ever been built, even beating those big caproni machines of italy that can carry a dozen in the crew. this martin bomber can be run by three hands, although several more might be used if the right kind were found. its possibilities in the way of distance and continued flight can hardly be estimated, since all depends on the cargo carried. the less crew, the more petrol and bombs to make up the load." "yes, we get that, lieutenant," said jack, as the other paused briefly, possibly to get his breath, and then again because he wished the information to sink slowly into their minds. "with this monster biplane i assure you it will be an easy matter to fly all the way to berlin, bomb the city so as to terrify the inhabitants even as they tried to do to londoners, turn around, and return here without touching ground once; yes, and if necessary, repeating the trip." jack showed intense excitement, while tom too was deeply interested. "we knew that thing would soon arrive," the latter said; "and they say the germans are getting cold feet already with the prospect before them. but it's come a little sooner than i, for one, expected. what's your big scheme, lieutenant?" "berlin or bust?" chanced jack explosively. "you've hit the right nail on the head, parmly," admitted the other, with a nod of appreciation. "i mean to show that it can be done. just as soon as i can get that big bomber here, and the permission to take on the job, well start some fine night for berlin and give heine the jolt of his life." jack thrust out his hand impulsively. "you can count for one on my going, lieutenant; that is, provided i get permission from the boss!" he announced promptly. "i'm inclined to say the same," tom added quietly, though his face displayed an eagerness he did not otherwise betray. with that lieutenant beverly squeezed a hand of each. "i mean to start things going shortly," he told them. "and you'll surely hear from me, for i must keep track of you boys." "where is the big martin bomber now, did you say?" asked jack. "i didn't mention the fact, but it lies hidden in a special hangar on the french coast, not a great distance from dunkirk," came the answer. "i have a special guard watching it, and my mechanics keep everything ready for any sudden call. right now she's tuned up to top-notch pitch, and a full supply of gas is kept on hand all the time, as well as everything needed in the way of supplies. that's where money talks." jack looked his admiration, and then burst out with: "you're sure a dandy, lieutenant beverly, and if ever you undertake that wonderful trip to berlin and back i only hope i have the great good luck to be aboard." "consider it settled then," he was told. "and now that i've found my comrades for the venture i can go about further details, and start getting the consent of headquarters to the enterprise. one of these nights berlin is going to get a shock that may help bring the war to a speedy close." "here's our dugout," said tom. "we're going back to work again after i've bandaged jack's finger, for he gave it an ugly scratch when handling the gun, he doesn't himself know just how. can we do anything further for you right now, lieutenant?" "thank you, nothing, raymond. i shall get on nicely. i'll rest up a day or so while things are simmering connected with that big affair. of course it's to be a great secret among the three of us; not another soul knows anything about my project or the giant bombing plane i had shipped over to france." "that's understood, and we're as mum as a couple of clams," jack told him; and so they separated, little dreaming at the moment what a remarkable series of circumstances were fated to arise that would bring them together for the carrying out of an enterprise greater than anything as yet recorded in the annals of aerial exploits. tom and jack were back on the field before half an hour had elapsed, making a fresh start for the clouds, just as eager as ever to have some adventurous hun airman accept their challenge and give them battle. for a whole hour did they fly back and forth in the disputed territory between the two armies. far beneath they could see by the aid of the powerful binoculars marching columns of soldiers, all heading toward the northwest. these they knew to be the german forces, making one of their regular daily retreats in fairly good order. behind them the hun armies left innumerable nests of machine-gunners to dispute the advance of the yankee battalions, and hold them in check, even at the price of utter annihilation. many times the men selected for this sacrifice to the fatherland held grimly on until they were completely wiped out by the sweep of the americans. occasionally one of the yankee pilots, provoked because none of the enemy dared to accept the gauge of battle he flung before them, would swoop down and try to make a target of these marching columns. then for a brief period there would be exciting work, with the machine gun of the scurrying plane splashing its spray of bullets amidst the scurrying soldiers, and the daring pilot in return taking their volleys. perhaps, if the boldness of the americans caused them to take too great chances, there might be one less plane return to its starting point that day; and the report would be brought in that the pilot had "met his fate in the discharge of his duty." wearied at length of the useless task, the air service boys finally gave it up for that afternoon. jack in particular showed signs of keen disappointment, for he always chafed under inaction. "there was some talk of another raid for tonight, you remember, tom," he said, when they once more alighted and gave the plane over into the charge of the hostlers; "and if it turns out that way i only hope we're detailed to go along to guard the bombers. it's growing worse and worse right along these days, when fritz seems to have gotten cold feet and refuses to accept a dare." "i see fellows reading letters," remarked tom suddenly. "let's hope there is something for us." "it's been a long time since i heard from home," sighed jack. "i certainly hope everything is going on well in old virginia these days. there's captain peters waving something at us right now, tom!" "letters, jack, and a sheaf of them at that!" "come on, let's run!" urged the impatient one, suiting his actions to the words by starting off on a gallop. tom took it a little more slowly so that when he arrived and received his letters from the aviation instructor, who happened to be in the camp at the time, jack was already deeply immersed in one which he had received. it was late in the afternoon. the sun hung low in the west, looking fiery red, which promised a fair day on the morrow. once he had his letters, however, tom paid but scant attention to anything else. his news from virginia must have been pleasant, if one could judge from the smile that rested upon his wind and sun-tanned face as he read on. again in memory he could see those loved ones in the old familiar haunts, going about their daily tasks, or enjoying themselves as usual. and whenever they sat under the well-remembered tree in the cool of the early fall evening, with the soft virginia air fanning their cheeks, the red and golden hues of frost-touched leaves above them, he knew their talk was mostly of him, the absent one, most fondly loved. tom looked up. he thought he had heard a groan, or something very similar, break from the lips of his chum. it startled tom so that when he saw how troubled jack looked a spasm of alarm gripped his heart. "why, what is the matter with you?" he cried, leaning forward and laying a hand on the other's arm. "have you had bad news from home?" jack nodded his head, and as he turned his eyes his chum saw there was a look of acute anxiety in them. "no one dead, or sick, i hope, jack?" continued the other apprehensively. "no, at least that is spared me, tom; they are all well. but just the same, it's a bad muddle. and the worst of it is i'm thousands of miles off, held up by army regulations, when i ought to get home for a short visit right away." "see here, is it anything connected with that burson property--has that matter come to a head at last?" demanded tom, as a light dawned upon him. "nothing less," assented the other gloomily. "the issue has been suddenly forced, and may be settled any day. if i'm not there, according to the eccentric will of my uncle, joshua adams kinkaid, that property will fall into the hands of my cousin, randolph carringford, who, as we both know, is just at present over here acting in a confidential capacity to some government official." "yes, i've seen him," said tom, frowning. "and to tell the honest truth his face didn't impress me strongly. in fact, i didn't like your cousin. what's the use? all virginia knows that randolph carringford is a black sheep--that no decent man or woman will acknowledge him for a friend. wonder what joshua kinkaid meant, anyhow, by ringing him in. but are the lands worth as much as it was believed, jack?" "i learn in this letter from our lawyer that the richest kind of coal veins have been located on the burson property in west virginia; and that they promise to be valued at possibly a million dollars. think of what that would mean to the parmly family! for we are far from being rich. father lost his grip on business you know, tom, when he volunteered, and went into the spanish war, and when he died did not leave very much." "do you suppose your cousin knows anything about this new development?" continued tom sympathetically. "he is too greedy not to have looked after every possible chance," came jack's despondent reply. "and now that this thing's come up i can begin to understand why he kept smiling in that way all the time he chatted with me a week ago when we chanced to meet. i think he had had a tip even then that this thing was coming off, and was laying his plans. though how he could known, i can't imagine." "then you suspect he may already be on his way across, and will arrive before you can get there to put in your claim?" asked tom. "even allowing that he had no news until this mail got in, tom, he'd get off a whole lot easier that i'll ever be able to, and so could catch a boat, while i kept untwisting the army red tape. it's a bad job all around, i'm afraid, and bound to make me feel blue." "there's only one thing for you to do, jack." remarked the energetic chum promptly, and his confidence gave the other considerable satisfaction. "what is that?" "apply for leave at once. and include me at the same time, because i'll go with you, of course, jack. we'll try to get back in time to join in the grand march to the rhine. promise me to do this before we sleep to-night!" "i will, tom, and here's my hand on it!" chapter iv the rest billet "here's a pretty kettle of fish, jack!" tom raymond remarked several hours later, as he came into the dingy dugout where his chum was sitting. a number of other pilots and observers occupied the same quarters, which had once been the refuge of german officers. wretched though these quarters were, they at least afforded security from the bursting shells that were being sent across now and then by the enemy, from their positions on the hills to the northwest. jack had been paying small heed to the merriment of his mates, who, like most young men gathered together in a group, had been carrying on high. sitting there with his head resting on his hand he had allowed himself to become buried in deep thought. a strained worried look had taken possession of his usually sunny face. "what's the matter now, tom?" he asked, with a deep sigh, as though he had been rudely brought back to a realization of the fact that he was still in france, where the battle raged, and far removed from those peaceful virginia scenes he had been picturing. "we're ordered out with that raiding party to-night," tom continued, lowering his voice to a whisper, since it was supposed to be a military secret, and not to be openly discussed. "oh! well, what does it matter?" asked jack, beginning to show animation. "we've put in our applications for leave, but the chances are they'll not be acted upon immediately, although we asked for speed. and nothing would please me more than to see action while i'm waiting. i'm afraid i'd go clean daffy unless i could forget my troubles in some way." "glad to hear you say that, jack, because i'm feeling particularly keen myself to be one of that bunch to-night" "when do we start?" demanded the other tersely. "not until two in the morning," came the low reply. "all that's been figured out with regard to the moon you know." jack took a quick glance around. so far as he could see, no one was paying the least attention to him and his comrade. one of the air pilots was trying to sing a song, being in jovial mood after receiving a letter that he admitted was from his "girl in the states" and the others manifested a desire to join in the chorus, though none of them dared let their voices out, since it was against the rules. "did you learn anything about the job we've got on hand, tom?" "yes, that's what i did; though i believe it was not generally told to all who are to be in the party," came the cautious reply. "of course just before the flight they'll be given full particulars, when orders are issued to the pilots and observers. it's a bridge this time, jack!" "that one spanning the river about twenty miles back of the german lines, do you mean?" "yes, it's the most important bridge within fifty miles. over it day and night the retreating boche armies are passing. there's hardly a minute that guns and regiments may not be seen passing across at that point." "yes," observed jack, "and a number of times some of our airmen have tried to bomb it in the daytime; but fritz keeps such a vigilant watch we never could succeed in getting close enough to do any material damage. and so the high command has decided that bridge must be knocked to flinders!" "we're going out to make the attempt, anyhow," resumed tom, nodding. "four big bombing machines in the bunch, guarded by eight battleplanes; and we've the good fortune to be chosen as the crew of one. i consider we're lucky, jack." "that's right, tom. though i don't feel quite as keen for it as i would have been had i not received that letter from our lawyer, asking me to hurry back home if i could possibly make it. still, i'll be in for a bad night, anyhow, and might just as well be working." "are you worrying about your cousin?" demanded tom suspiciously. "to tell you the truth i am, more or less," jack confessed. "i know him as a man utterly without principle. when he knows that it is a race between us to see which one can get to america first, so as to win the prize my foolish uncle left in such a haphazard way, there's absolutely nothing, i honestly believe, that randolph wouldn't attempt in order to keep me from getting there in advance of him." "well, try to forget all that just now," said tom. "i've a nice little surprise for you, jack. i suppose you know they've got a sort of 'y' hut running back here a bit?" "heard some of the fellows talking about it, but, somehow, didn't seem to take much stock in the news. fact is, i've temporarily lost my taste for those doughnuts and the girls who give their time to jollying up our fellows, as well as attending to their many wants in the line of letter writing and such things." "perhaps," insinuated tom, with a mild grin, "a doughnut mightn't go so badly now if the girl who offered it happened to answer to the name of bessie?" at that jack suddenly began to show more interest. a gleam came into his saddened eyes and a faint smile to his face. "that's an altogether different thing, tom!" he exclaimed. "do you really mean that bessie and mrs. gleason are so close as all that?" "if you care to walk out with me you can be talking to them inside of fifteen minutes," came the ready answer. "and while about it, i might as well tell you that nellie is there too. seems that she's attached to a field hospital staff that's keeping us close company, and, meeting the gleasons, came over for the evening. she's been overworked lately, and needs some rest. i promised to come back for a short while, and fetch you along." "did--er, bessie ask you to look me up?" asked jack confusedly. "to be sure! twice at least. and i had to promise solemnly i'd do it even if i had to take you by the collar and hustle you there. but our time is limited, and we'd better be on our way, jack." the other showed an astonishing return to his old form. apparently the mere fact that he was about to see the gleasons again caused him to forget, temporarily at least, all about his fresh troubles. they were soon hurrying along, now and then dropping flat as some shell shrieked overhead or burst with a crash not far away. their relations with mrs. gleason and bessie were very remarkable, and of a character to bind them close together in friendship. in fact, as has been described at length in one of the earlier books of this series, tom and jack had been mainly instrumental in releasing the mother and young daughter from a chateau where they were being held prisoner by an unscrupulous and plotting relative, with designs on their fortune. the so-called "hut" of the y.m.c.a. workers was really only another dilapidated and abandoned german dugout, which had been hurriedly arranged as a sort of makeshift headquarters, where the doughboys who could get leave might gather and find such amusement as the conditions afforded. there were salvation army lassies present too, with their pies and doughnuts that made the boys feel closer to home than almost anything else, and even a sprinkling of red cross nurses from the field hospital who had been given a brief leave for recuperation. adjoining this particular rest billet was another of similar character run by the k. of c., which was also well patronized; indeed there seemed to be a friendly rivalry between the organizations to discover which could spread the most sunshine and cheer abroad. jack immediately was pounced upon by a pretty, young girl whose face was either very sunburned or covered with blushes. this was of course the bessie mentioned by tom. others who watched professed a bit of envy because jack received all her attention after he appeared. nellie leroy, the red cross nurse, looked very sweet in her regulation hospital uniform, with the insignia of her calling on her sleeve. if her face bore a sad expression it was no more than must be expected of one seeing so much suffering at close quarters as came to the share of all the women and girls who devoted their very lives to such a calling. in tom's eyes she was the prettiest girl in all france. it could also be seen that nellie was very fond of the stalwart young air pilot, from the way in which her eyes rested on his figure whenever he chanced to be absent from her side during the next hour; which to tell the truth was not often. of course nothing was said about the night's dangerous work that lay ahead for the two chums. but bessie noticed that jack occasionally looked grave, and questioned him concerning it. in answer he took her into his confidence to a certain extent concerning his reason for wanting to be in virginia. the time for separating came all too soon. tom was very particular about this, being a firm believer in duty before pleasure. "look us up often if you get the chance," said mrs. gleason, who had been actively at work all the evening carrying out her customary duties, and proving indeed a "good angel" to scores of the young soldiers, who looked upon her as they might on their own mothers. "you can depend on it we will," said tom, giving nellie a warm look that caused her eyes to drop and a wave of color to come into her cheeks. "wild horses couldn't keep me away, if i can get across," jack told bessie, as he was squeezing her little hand at separating. "but then you never know what's going to happen these days. all sorts of things are possible. if i do start across the big pond you'll hear of it, bessie." jack looked back and waved his hand to the little group standing in the door of the dugout. he seemed much more cheerful than earlier in the evening, tom thought; and as that had been one of his motives in getting the other across from the aviation camp he felt satisfied. "and now for business," he remarked as they made their way along, with a frequent bursting shell giving them light to see any gap in the road into which they might otherwise have stumbled. fritz was unusually active on this particular night, for some reason or other, for he kept up that hammering hour after hour. it might be the german high command suspected that the americans were ready to make a more stupendous push than had as yet been undertaken, with the idea of capturing a whole division, or possibly two, before they could get away; and this bombardment was continued in hopes of discouraging them. the two air service boys did not bother themselves about this, being content to leave all such matters to those in command. they had their orders and expected to obey them to the letter, which was quite enough for them. once more in their dugout, tom and his comrade crawled into their limited sleeping quarters simply to rest, neither of them meaning to try to forget themselves in slumber. when the time came for action they were soon crawling out of the hole in the ground. as pilots came and went unnoticed, each intent on his individual work, their departure caused not the faintest ripple. in fact, there were two other airmen who also came out and joined them when making for the place of the temporary canvas hangars, they, too, having had secret orders concerning this same night raid. arriving on the open field, they found a busy scene awaiting them. here were mechanics by the score getting planes ready for ascension. the hum of motors and the buzz of propellers being tuned up could be heard in many quarters. those sounds always thrilled the hearts of the two boys; it seemed to challenge them to renewed efforts to accomplish great things in their chosen profession. when, however, they reached their own hangar and found a knot of mechanics working furiously, tom's suspicions instantly arose. "what's wrong here?" he asked the man who was in charge of the gang. "there's been some sort of ugly business going on, i'm afraid," came the reply; "for we're replacing several wire stays that look as if they'd been partly eaten by a corrosive acid. smacks of rank treachery, sergeant." chapter v the air raiders upon hearing the words uttered by the mechanic who handled the men working at their battleplane, tom and his chum exchanged meaning looks. "can you make it perfectly safe again before half an hour passes?" asked the former anxiously. "surely," came the confident reply. "i know what's in the wind, and you'll be fit for any sort of flight when another fifteen minutes has gone by. we're on the last stay now, and i've carefully examined the motor and every other thing about the plane. don't fear to risk your lives on my report. i'd go up myself willingly if i had the chance." "all right, sessions, we're willing to take your word for it," tom assured him, and then drew his comrade aside. jack on his part was eager for a little talk between themselves. that staggering fact had appalled, as well as angered, him. why should their particular plane have been selected for such treacherous work, among all the scores connected with the air service in that sector of the fighting front? "what do you make of this thing, tom?" he immediately demanded. "it's an ugly bit of business, i should say," came the guarded reply. "you mean calculated to make every one feel timid about taking any extraordinary risk--is that it?" continued jack. "yes, if the fact were generally circulated. but according to my mind they'll keep it quiet until after the armada gets off. no use alarming the others, though orders have gone out i presume to have every plane carefully examined. still, that would only be ordinary caution; we never go up without doing such a thing." "tom, do you think there could be any possible connection between this work of a german spy, as it appears on the surface, and my news from mr. smedley, the lawyer?" "it's possible--even probable, jack. a whole lot depends on whether we learn of any other plane having been meddled with. one thing sure, it'll spur them to greater vigilance about watching things here. this isn't the first time there's been a suspicion of rank treachery. planes have been known to be meddled with before now." "i wouldn't put it past him!" muttered jack sullenly. "meaning your cousin randolph, i suppose," tom added. "nice opinion to have of a near relative, i must say. but then i'm inclined to agree with you. it may be only a queer coincidence, your getting such important news this afternoon, and some unknown party trying to bring about our downfall and death in this brazen way only a few hours afterwards." "and using corrosive acid, too," spluttered the indignant jack. "i've heard of ropes being partly cut, even wire stays or struts filed to weaken them; but this is the limit. don't i wish they'd caught the skunk in the act!" "he'd never have left this aviation camp alive," said tom sternly. "why, the boys would be so furious they'd be tempted to lynch him offhand." "and i'd be glad to help pull the rope!" snapped jack. "a more cowardly act couldn't be imagined than this. air pilots take great enough chances, without being betrayed by spies or traitors." "we'd better say nothing about it," tom concluded. "i'm going to run over the entire machine on my own account." "and i'll do the same, tom; for a pilot can't be too sure of his mount, especially when there's such meanness afoot." they accordingly busied themselves after their individual fashion. every brace and stay was looked over carefully and tested as only pilots know how. long experience, and many accidents have taught them where the weak spots lie, and they understand how to guard against the giving way at these points. so the minutes passed. other pilots had already ascended to await the assembling of the picked squadron at some given altitude. every minute or two could be heard the rush of some unit starting forth. there were few of the accompaniments of an ordinary ascent, for all loud cries had been banned. "all ready!" came the welcome words at last. the last strut had been carefully gone over, and now everything was pronounced in perfect condition. at the same time, after such a discovery had been made, it was only natural for the boys to feel a queer tug in the region of their hearts as they climbed to their seats, and with hands that quivered a little proceeded to make fast the safety belts. "there goes another bomber, which makes four--the full number you spoke of, tom," remarked jack. "i suppose we're holding up the procession more or less, worse luck, when usually we can be found in the lead." "the commander must know about our mishap," replied tom, "and isn't apt to blame us for any little delay. the night's still young, and we can reach our destination in half an hour, with time to spare. so cheer up, old comrade; everything's lovely and the goose hangs high. now we're off!" with that he gave the word, and paid attention to his motor, which started a merry hum. the propellers commenced to spin, and down the slight slope they ran with constantly increasing speed. all around them could be heard the refrain of planes in action; from above came similar sounds, and jack, looking up, discovered dim scurrying forms of mysterious shape that flitted across the star-decked sky like giant bats. now they, too, were rising swiftly in spirals. both kept a keen watch, for it was at this time they stood the greatest chance of taking part in an unfortunate collision that might result in a fatal disaster. but every pilot was on edge, and careful to avoid any such blunder. they had been well drilled in all the maneuvers connected with just such a hurried ascent in numbers. each plane had its regular orbit of action, and must not overstep the bounds on penalty of the commander's displeasure. after mounting to the arranged height, the air service boys found that it was a very animated region, though fully a thousand feet from the earth's surface. almost a dozen planes in all were moving in a great circle, their motors lazily droning, and the pilots ready to enter into squadron formation on signal. in fact, tom and his chum were the last to arrive, which under the circumstances was not to be wondered at. "all on deck, i reckon," called out jack, after he had taken a survey about him. "there's the signal from the flagship, tom. we've got to keep the red lantern ahead of us and fall into line. there go the bombers to the center, and our place you said was on the left, tailing the whole bunch." like a well disciplined aerial navy they fell into place, each taking its position as previously arranged. when the formation was made complete another signal was given. this meant the advance was now to begin, and the crossing of the german lines undertaken. unless there chanced to be some mistake made concerning the proper altitude required, so as to clear all possible bombardment when over the hun lines, this might be accomplished without danger. so far as was known, they had gauged the utmost capacity for reaching them possessed by the german anti-aircraft guns, and jack promised himself to jeer at the futile efforts of these gunners to explode their shrapnel shells close to the speeding armada. something must have been underrated, however; and, in fact, few plans can be regarded as absolutely perfect. the advancing raiders were passing over the enemy front when a furious bombardment suddenly burst forth below. jack could see the spiteful flashes of the numerous guns, and while the sound of the discharges came but faintly to his ears, to his consternation, all around them, as well as above and below, came sharp crackling noises, accompanied by bursts of dazzling light. they were actually in the midst of a storm of bursting projectiles and in immediate peril of having some damage done to their swift-flying planes such as would spell ruin to the enterprise, perhaps bring instant death to some of the fliers! chapter vi striking a blow for liberty "climb, tom! climb in a hurry!" jack parmly shrilled these words close to the ear of his chum. really, there was no need of his saying a single word, since the pilot had sensed their immediate danger just as quickly as had jack himself. already tom was pulling the lever that would point the nose of their aerial craft upward toward the stars, and take them to a much loftier elevation. the experience was very exciting while it lasted, jack thought. he saw the numerous planes, forming the raiding squadron break formation in great haste, each pilot being eager to dodge the bursting shells and seek an elevation where they could not reach his flimsy craft. it would take only one accidental shrapnel shell to cause the destruction of the best machine among them, and thus reduce the number of available airmen serving the cause of liberty. for a brief interval the explosions continued to sound all around them. but presently jack was enabled to breathe easily again. they had climbed beyond the range of the german guns, no matter how heavily charged; and, besides this, they sped along rapidly, so that the hun lines were soon left behind. "trouble's past. admiral signaling keep on this level, tom!" called out the observer. "got you, jack!" came the answer, heard above the rushing noises that "made the welkin ring," as jack told himself. the firing ceased as the german gunners realized, to their chagrin doubtless, that again their intended prey had eluded them. they must have set those anti-aircraft quick-firers of theirs in fresh elevated emplacements after the yankees had taken the measure of their power to do harm; but the trap, if such it was intended to be, had failed to catch a single victim. "did they get any of our crowd?" tom called out, feeling considerable uneasiness as to the result of the bombardment. "never touched us," he was immediately assured by the observant jack. "all the same it was a smart trick, and somebody's bound to be hauled over the coals on account of the blunder." "yes," admitted tom, speaking loud so as to be heard above the roar of the numerous planes around them, "because it might have played hob with the squadron, and even ruined the success of the whole expedition." after that they relapsed into silence. it was exceedingly difficult to try to keep up any sort of conversation while going at such a furious pace through the upper air currents. besides, the night was cold at such an elevation, and consequently both boys had their heads well muffled up, making use of hoods with goggles for the purpose. they also wore gloves on their hands, as well as heavy sweaters under their leather-lined coats. the formation, in a way, reminded jack of many a flock of wild geese that he had seen flying north or south over virginia in their spring and autumn migrations. in the lead went the battleplane containing the squadron commander, forming the apex of the triangle, and showing a fiery red eye in the shape of an automobile rear light as a rallying point for all the other machines. then the seven other battleplanes sank away from the apex, three on one side and four on the other, that of the air service boys being the one to the rear of all the rest. flying two and two abreast, and guarded on both sides by those sturdy fighting craft came the four huge bombers, each heavily laden with the most destructive of explosives. they, too, could show teeth if cornered and compelled to depend on their own defensive powers; for each of them carried a machine gun, of which the observer had been trained to make good use, just as he must know how to drop his bombs successfully when the proper instant arrived. all seemed quiet just at present, but none of those guiding the aerial racing craft deceived themselves with the belief that this could last long. it went without saying that the huns must realize the necessity for guarding the important bridge across which their beaten armies were flocking day and night in constantly increasing numbers. unless the guns could be taken across in safety, they stood to lose many of their best batteries. consequently they would be apt to assemble a flotilla of fighting planes in that vicinity, ready to soar aloft and give furious battle to any allied squadron venturesome enough to make the attempt at destruction. if the blowing up of the bridge could only be accomplished, the sacrifice of a few planes with their crews might be counted a cheap price to pay for the great benefits reaped. the minutes passed, and all the while the raiders were drawing nearer and nearer their intended goal. every pilot and observer in that squadron had been carefully selected with a view to his fitness for the gigantic task that had been laid out for accomplishment. there would be no hesitation when the eventful moment came, since none was present save those who had been tried in the furnace of battle and found to be fine gold, eighteen carat pure. such a thing as flinching when the test came was not to be considered; they would carry through their appointed tasks or fall while in the endeavor, paying the price the airman has ever had dangled before his eyes. jack was using his night-glass, and he now broke out with a cry. "we must be getting close to the bridge, tom! i can see flickering lights darting about, and i believe they must be planes rushing up into the air!" "like as not they've been warned of our coming by the row we're making," replied the pilot, in a shout. "then again those huns along the line would send word back, for they must know what we're aiming at. it's all the same to us. we came out after action, and we'd be terribly disappointed if we didn't get a lot of it." then came signals from the leading plane. closer formation was the rule from that time forward, since the bombers must be amply protected in order to allow their gunners an opportunity to get to work with those frightful explosives and hurl them at the place where the bridge was supposed to lie. both boys began to feel their pulses thrill with eagerness, as well as excitement. looking down, jack could detect moving lights, the source of which he could only speculate upon. then came a flash which must mark the discharge of the first anti-aircraft gun. the enemy was showing exceeding nervousness, for as yet the leading american plane could not be anywhere within range. with the burst of shrapnel there came a realization that the gunners below were only trying to get their range. the whole pack would break loose in another minute or less; but jack had reason to believe their altitude was such as to render the fusillade harmless. then down below he saw a sudden brilliant flash. that must mark the falling of a flaming bomb, dropped from one of the big planes in order to get a lead on their location. jack believed he had even glimpsed the bridge itself in that brief interval. how the prospect thrilled him! tom, on his part, had little opportunity to observe anything that was taking place earthward. his duty lay closer at hand, for he knew that a swarm of fighting gothas had started up to engage the attacking squadron, and realized that one or more of these hostile aircraft might suddenly appear close at hand, bent on bringing about their destruction. besides, constant vigilance was the price of safety in other particulars. with almost a dozen of their own planes speeding through space, a false move on the part of a careless pilot was apt to bring about a collision that could have only one result. jack made a discovery just then that caused him to cry out. "the signal, tom! we are to drop down and give the bombers a better chance to get there. no matter what the cost, we've got to reach that bridge to-night!" already tom was changing the course. they had begun to swing lower, each unit of the attacking squadron in its appointed place. a brief interval followed, and then came the bursting shrapnel again around them, while from several quarters close by hovering german planes commenced using their machine guns, to be answered by the challengers in like manner. chapter vii the battle in the air the din soon became general, one after another of the american planes joining in the battle. the german aircraft held off a little, fighting from afar, evidently thinking to accomplish their ends without taking too much risk. had they boldly assaulted, doubtless the result would have been much more disastrous to both sides. the big bombers had but one object in view, which was to bomb the important target below. to drop an explosive on a certain spot had been the most important training of those aboard these craft. they had been carefully selected from the ranks of the many observers taking service in the aviation branch of the service; and great things were expected of them now. the huns had concentrated the glare of numerous searchlights on the hub of the squadron's activities, so that the speeding planes could be seen darting hither and thither like bats during an august evening, darting around some arc-light in the street. the flash of the distant guns aboard the planes looked like faint fire-flies in action. no longer was the earth wrapped in darkness, for flares dropped by the bombers kept continually on fire. the bridge stood plainly out, and a keen eye, even without the aid of glasses, could distinguish the rush of terrorized german troopers trying to get clear of the danger zone before a well directed bomb struck home. jack, leaning from his seat, took all this in. he was keyed to the top-notch by what he saw and heard. tame indeed did most other incidents of the past appear when compared with this most stupendous event. "wow!" burst from his lips, as a sudden brilliant flash below told that the first huge bomb had struck; but with all that racket going on around of course no ordinary human voice could have been heard. he could see that it had not been a successful attempt, for the bomb struck the ground at some little distance away from the terminus of the structure spanning the river. however, it did considerable damage where it fell, and created no end of alarm among those who were near by. as yet the air service boys had not been engaged with any of the hostile planes, though most of the other yankee pilots seemed to be having their hands full in meeting and repelling fierce attacks. both kept in readiness for work should their turn come, tom manipulating the plane, and jack working the rapid-fire gun which he had learned to handle so cleverly. strangely enough, jack, as he looked, was reminded of a vast circus which he had once attended, and where tumblers, athletes, and trained animals were all performing in three rings at the same time. he had found it utterly impossible to watch everything that went on, and remembered complaining lustily afterwards in consequence. now there were some eleven rings in all, besides what was taking place thousands of feet below, where the bombs had started to burst, tearing great gaps in the ground close to the bridge, and causing the water itself to gush upward like spouting geysers. lower still dropped the venturesome pilots guiding the destinies of the four huge bombers. what chances they were taking, bent only on succeeding in the important task to which they had been assigned! jack knew he would never forget that dreadful crisis, no matter if he were allowed to live to the age of methuselah; such an impression did it make upon his mind. but their turn came at length, for in the dim light two big gothas were discovered swinging in toward them as though bent on bringing about the destruction of the yankee battleplane. jack forgot about what was taking place below, since all of his energies must now be directed toward beating off this double attack. it had come to the point of self-preservation. the hun airmen were playing a prearranged game of hunting in couples. while one made a feint at attacking, the other expected to take advantage of an exposure and inflict a fatal blow that would send the american aeroplane whirling to death. jack saw when the nearest plane opened fire. the spitting flame told him this, for it darted out like the fiery tongue of a serpent. he also realized that the bullets were cutting through space all around them; and a splinter striking his arm announced the fuselage of the plane had already been struck, showing the gunner had their range. then jack began work on his own account, not meaning to let the fight become one-sided. his duty was to pepper any of the enemy craft that came within range, regardless of consequences. to tom must be left the entire running of the plane motor, as well as the maneuvering that would form a part of the affray. heedless of what was taking place around them, the two chums devoted their attention to the task of baffling the designs of their two foes. wonderfully well did tom manage his aerial steed. they swung this way and that, dipped, rose, and cut corners in a dizzying fashion in the endeavor to confuse the aim of the hun marksmen. once jack experienced a sudden sinking in the region of his heart. there was a strange movement to the plane that made him fear the motor had been struck. he also missed the cheery hum at the same time, and felt a sickening sensation of falling. but immediately he realized that tom was only executing his pet drop, the nose-dive. one of the huns followed them down, just as a hawk-might pursue its prey. when the american plane came out of the dive at the new level jack saw that the hun was closer than ever, and once again starting to bombard them. at least they now had only a single adversary to deal with, which could be reckoned a point gained. most of the fighting was going on above them, but jack believed the bombers must be somewhere near by, possibly at a still lower level. again the maneuvering, or jockeying, for position commenced. in this air duel the pilot who knew his business best was going to come out ahead. it might be they were opposed by some celebrated german ace with a long list of victories to his credit, which would render their chances smaller. tom, however, seemed to be keeping up his end wonderfully well. the hissing missiles cut through the canvas of their wings, beat upon the side of the fuselage, and even nipped the air service boys more than once as they stormed past. neither of the boys knew whether they were seriously wounded or not; all they could do was to fight on and on, until something definite had been achieved on one side or the other. once jack felt something blinding him, and putting up a hand discovered that it was wet; yet he was not conscious of having been struck in the head by a passing bullet. dashing his sleeve across his eyes he shut his jaws still tighter together, and continued to play his gun as the opportunity arose. they were coming to closer quarters, and the issue of the battle, however dreadful the result, could not be much longer delayed, jack knew. then it happened, coming like a flash of lightning from the storm cloud! chapter viii bombing the bridge "tom, we've done it!" jack shrieked, when he saw the enemy gotha plane take a sudden significant dip and flutter downward like a stricken bird. evidently a shot more fortunate than any that had preceded it had struck a vital part of the rival craft, putting the motor suddenly out of repair. when he felt his plane begin to crumple up under him the hun pilot had commenced to strive frantically to recover control. jack, horror-stricken by what was happening, leaned over and watched his struggle, which he knew was well nigh hopeless from the beginning. still the german ace made a valiant effort to avoid his fate. he could be seen working madly to keep from overturning, but apparently his hour had struck, for the last jack saw of the beaten gotha it was turning topsy-turvy, falling like a shooting star attracted to the earth by the law of gravitation. that affair being over, jack, breathing hard, now allowed himself to pay some attention to what was going on in other quarters. at the same time he proceeded to introduce a fresh belt of cartridges into the hungry maw of the machine gun, in case they were forced into another engagement. above them the battle still raged, though of course jack could not decide which side might be getting the better of it. his interest focused chiefly on the bombing machines, which he found were now far away, moving along in erratic courses as their pilots strove to get in exact position for a successful blowing up of the bridge. jack could count only three of them. unless the fourth had wandered far afield it looked as though disaster had overtaken its crew. no matter, even such a catastrophe must not deter those remaining from seeking by every means in their power to reach their objective. even as he stared downward jack saw another of those brilliant flashes that proclaimed the bursting of a bomb. he felt a sense of chagrin steal over him, because so far no explosive seemed to have succeeded in attaining the great end sought. the bridge still stood intact, if deserted, for he could catch glimpses of it when the smoke clouds were drifted aside by the night breeze. fires were now burning in several quarters, started undoubtedly by some of the bombs that had missed their intended objective. these lighted up the scene and gave it a weird, almost terrifying aspect as witnessed from far above. all at once jack saw some bulky object pass between their machine and the ground below. it must be the missing bomber, he concluded, though the realization of the fact made him thrill all over in admiration of the nerve of those who could accept such terrible chances. yes, despairing of getting in a telling blow at such a height, the reckless crew of the big yankee plane had actually dropped down until they could not be more than a thousand feet from the earth. and now they were speeding forward, meaning to test their skill at such close quarters. not being able to make tom hear his voice, jack gave the other a tug, and so managed to call his attention to what was passing below. just in time did tom look, for at that very moment there came another of those amazing brilliant illuminations, and the dull roar greeted their ears a few seconds afterwards. they saw with staring eyes the air filled with the material that had once constituted the wonderful bridge, across which day and night the retreating huns were taking their valuable guns and stores. a brief space of time did the scene bear the aspect of chaos, and then, when the smoke cleared sufficiently for them to see, they looked upon a void where the bridge had stood. jack fell back appalled, yet quivering with deepest satisfaction. their raid would be one of triumph, since the main object had now been achieved. hardly had he allowed himself to exult after this fashion than jack discovered that tom seemed to be greatly agitated. so he once more looked down, filled with a sudden fear lest the gallant fighters in that adventurous bomber had paid dearly for their success. he immediately saw that his alarm was not groundless. the big yankee plane must have been struck in some vital part, for it was rapidly sinking as though doomed. jack's only consolation lay in the fact that the crew seemed to be in better luck than those of the stricken gotha; for they managed to keep from turning turtle; and unless striking the ground with too great violence might yet come out of the affair alive, even though finding themselves prisoners of war. tom was already striking for the upper levels. he saw that the other three bombers had also commenced to climb, since their mission was now carried out, and further risks would be only a needless hazard. then, too, the crews of the battle gothas, realizing that they had failed to save the bridge, concluded to withdraw from the combat, leaving the americans to make their way back to their starting point, victorious and rejoicing. yes, there was the signal flashing from the plane of the commander, which meant that the raiding squadron should assemble above the reach of the crackling shrapnel, and prepare in a body for the homeward journey. a sense of exultation, mingled with sincere thankfulness, gripped the hearts of the two air service boys as they realized that the peril was now really a thing of the past. the homeward trip would be a mere bagatelle, for surely no huns would venture to attack them while on the way. by exercising good judgment they ought also to keep above the reach of those elevated anti-aircraft guns along the front hills. now jack remembered the temporary blinding sensation. he found on investigating that he had been near a serious accident, since a passing bullet had grazed his head, cutting the skin and causing quite a copious flow of blood. "what's happened to you?" called out the alarmed tom, on seeing that the other was binding his handkerchief about his head. "another scratch, that's all," replied jack, as though that were only a matter of course, to be expected when modern knights of the upper air currents sallied forth bent on adventure. "a miss is as good as a mile, you know, tom. and i guess i have a hard head in the bargain. it's all right, nothing to worry over. fortunately it didn't strike me in the face, and mar my beauty any." jack could joke under almost any serious conditions; but tom felt relieved to know the worst. they were at the time back again in their appointed place, tailing the procession. counting again as best he could, jack discovered that there were only seven of the battleplanes in the double line now. it looked very much as though the loss of the big bomber was not the only penalty they had paid for their daring raid. but no doubt the story would all be told after the flight was over and the various pilots and observers could get together to compare notes. again were they subjected to a bombardment when they sailed over the german front lines; but this time, taking a lesson from their previous experience, they maintained such an altitude that no shrapnel was able to reach them. shortly afterward, and one by one, the battered yankee planes dropped on the open field where the hangars lay, like huge buzzards alighting to satisfy their hunger in an orgy. the first thing tom did when he and jack found themselves again on their feet and the waiting mechanics and hostlers looking after their plane, was to reach out and seize upon his chum's hand. "we've got good reason to congratulate ourselves on coming through that nasty business so well, jack," he said earnestly. "if you look at our machine you'll see how near we came a dozen times to cashing in our checks. they knocked us up pretty well, for a fact." "i should say they did," admitted jack, as he examined the various marks showing where the hun bullets had punctured different parts of the wings, or struck the fuselage, narrowly missing both the motor and the partly protected petrol supply tank. they lingered around for a full hour, there was so much to talk about as they gathered in groups and compared experiences, as well as commented on the possible fate of their fellow aviators who had failed to return. in spite of the loss incurred, the achievement accomplished was of such a character as to fill them with pardonable pride. no member of that historical night raid, whereby the retreat of the germans was so badly handicapped by the loss of the big bridge, would ever have cause to blush for his part in the bold undertaking. finally the two chums, finding themselves exhausted and in need of sleep, broke away from the chattering throng and sought their bunks in the former hun dugout. all was now silence around them, the enemy batteries having ceased sending over even occasional shells; and they were able to enjoy a few hours of rest undisturbed by having the roof of their shelter damaged by a chance explosion. on the following morning the advance was resumed, the same tactics being employed that had met with such success all through the argonne. wherever they discovered that machine-gun nests had been placed these were "mopped-up" by surrounding them, and then attacking from the rear, while the attention of the defenders of the stone house, or it might be a windmill foundation, was gripped by a pretense at frontal assault. those who had participated in the air raid on the bridge were given a day off, so as to recuperate. they felt that they deserved it, for the destruction of that bridge was apt to be a serious stumbling-block in the path of the retreating huns, one that might cost them dearly in the way of prisoners and lost artillery. jack utilized this opportunity by striving to learn important facts in connection with the matter that was weighing so heavily on his mind. he absented himself from the dugout which the air pilots continued to occupy and which they disliked giving up until assured of some other half-way decent billet in a village that might be abandoned by fritz when falling back. of course jack had to have his slight wounds attended to, and in order to make sure that he had not neglected this before going off, tom, during the morning, found it absolutely necessary to wander over to the field hospital, where of course he looked up nellie. really it took almost a full hour for him to make all the inquiries he considered essential; and he might have consumed a still longer time but that there was a call for the nurse's services, and she had to excuse herself. "never mind," said tom grimly to himself, as he made his way back to the old dugout, "it was well worth the walk. and nellie is looking fine, for a fact. they call her the most popular nurse at the front, and i've heard fellows in plenty say that if ever they got knocked out by hun bullets they'd want nothing better than to have her take care of them." he did not find jack anywhere around when he got back, nor had those he asked seen anything of him since early morning. of course tom knew what it was that engaged the attention of his comrade, and he only hoped jack might not meet with any bad luck in his endeavor to learn something of the movements of his cousin, randolph carringford. then came the afternoon. from indications tom fancied that would be their last night in the old dugout. the huns were still falling back, and word had been going around that by another day the yankees would undoubtedly occupy the village that lay just beyond the hills where the bursting shrapnel had ascended on the occasion of the passage of the air squadron. it was about four o'clock when tom sighted his chum. jack's face was gloomy, and he lacked his customary sprightliness of walk. as he came up he tried to smile, but it was a rank failure. "well," he said disconsolately, "the very worst has happened, tom. i've managed to get word after trying for hours, and have learned that my cousin sailed yesterday from havre. he's beat me to it, and i've lost out!" chapter ix convincing proof "are you sure about that?" asked tom, though at the same time realizing that jack was not the one to give in easily, and must have used every avenue for gaining information before reaching this condition of certainty. "there's not the slightest reason to doubt it, i tell you, tom," jack replied slowly, shaking his head at the same time to emphasize his sorrowful feelings in the matter. "i asked particularly, and the word came that a passenger named randolph carringford had sailed yesterday on the _la bretagne_ for new york." "then that point seems settled," admitted tom, though disliking to acknowledge the fact. "still, something might happen to prevent his reaching new york city, or virginia." "what could stop him, since i'm utterly powerless to do anything?" asked jack, still unconvinced. "well," continued the would-be comforter, "vessels have started out before this and never arrived at their destination. take the _lusitania_ for instance. more than ever are the hun submersibles on the job these critical days, for their commanders know they've almost got to their last gasp." "no such luck for me, i'm afraid, tom," sighed the other, quickly adding: "and for that matter i wouldn't want to profit at the expense of the lives of others. so i hope the french boat gets safely past the closed zone, no matter what it costs me personally. but it galls me to feel how helpless i am. if my hands were tied this minute i couldn't be worse off." "are you sure cabling would do no good, if we could manage to send an urgent message?" "nothing will do except my presence there in person before randolph can present himself, thanks to our uncle's foolish will that puts a premium on rascality. yes, it's a bitter pill i have to swallow. i'd do anything under the sun if only i could hope to beat that scheming cousin out! but it's useless; so i'll just have to grin and bear it." "i wish i had any suggestion to offer," remarked tom; "but to tell the truth i don't see what you can do but wait and see what happens. we've got our applications for leave in, and some influential friends pulling wires to help us through. something may turn up at the last minute." "it's mighty fine of you to say that, though i know you're only trying to keep me from discouragement." "see who's coming, will you?" suddenly ejaculated tom. even before he looked the other could give a shrewd guess as to the identity of the person approaching, for tom seemed unduly pleased. "it's nellie, as sure as anything," muttered jack. "i wonder what's brought her over here. you don't imagine anything could have happened to bessie or mrs. gleason--the huns haven't been trying to bomb any 'y' huts or hospitals lately, have they, tom?" "not that i've heard," came the ready answer. "and besides, i had the pleasure of chatting with nellie for a whole hour this morning. you see i got a bit anxious about you; was afraid you'd neglected to step over and get those cuts attended to as you'd promised; so to make sure i wandered across." "of course you did!" jeered jack. "and if that excuse hadn't held water there were plenty more shots in the locker! but never mind; here's nellie hurrying toward us. doesn't she look rather serious, tom?" "we'll soon know what's in the wind," was the answer, as the pretty red cross nurse hastened to join the two boys. "you didn't expect to see me again so soon, i imagine, tom," she said as she came up, trying to catch her breath at the same time, for she had evidently hurried. "no, i must say i didn't dream i'd have that pleasure, nellie," replied the air pilot, as he took her hand in his and squeezed it. "but something unusual must have brought you all the way over here, i imagine." "well, it was, tom," she told him. "it isn't safe either," continued tom, "for you to be abroad. the huns are likely to begin long range shelling any minute, and the road's a favorite target for their gunners; they've got it's range down fine." "it isn't about bessie, i hope?" ventured jack, still more or less apprehensive. nellie looked at him and slightly smiled, for she knew jack was exceedingly fond of the young girl. "bessie is perfectly well," she assured him; "and when i passed the y hut she and her mother were helping some of the salvation army girls make a fresh heap of doughnuts. but my coming does concern you, jack." "please explain what you mean by that?" he begged her, while his face lighted up with interest, showing that for the moment his troubles, lately bearing so heavily upon him, were forgotten. "i will, and in as few words as possible," she answered, "for my time is limited. i left several cases to be cared for by a nurse who has not had as thorough a training as she might have had, and the responsibility lies with me. but i can give you five minutes before i start back again." needless to say nellie by this time had both boys fairly agog with curiosity, for neither of them could give the slightest guess as to the nature of the news she was bringing. "you see, they were bringing in a lot of fresh cases," she explained, "for there has been some furious fighting going on this morning, as our boys drove in to chase the huns out of the village. among the number of wounded, one man among others fell into my care. his name is bertrand hale, and i think both of you know him." tom and jack exchanged looks. "we have met him many times," said the former; "but i can't say that he has ever been a friend of ours. he's rather a wild harum-scarum sort of chap--i imagine his own worst enemy, for he drinks heavily when he can get it, and spends much of the time in the guard-house. still, they say he's a fighter, every inch of him, and has done some things worth mentioning." "i imagine you describe him exactly, tom," nellie told him. "very well, this time he's in a pretty bad way, for he has a number of serious injuries, and, besides has lost his left arm, though it's possible he may pull through if his constitution hasn't been weakened too much through dissipation." "but what about bertrand hale, nellie? did he tell you anything that would be of interest to us?" asked tom. "i can see that you're beginning to suspect already, tom," she continued. "for that is exactly what happened. he kept following me with his eyes as i moved around doing my work, after taking care of him. then he beckoned to me, and asked whether i wasn't a particular friend of jack parmly and tom raymond. "of course i assured him it was so, and with that he looked so very eager that i knew he had a secret to tell me. this is the gist of what he said, boys. just four days ago he was approached by a man he didn't know, who managed to get some strong drink into his hands, and after hale had indulged more than he ought made a brazen proposition to him. "it was to the effect that he was willing to pay a certain sum to have you boys injured so that you would be laid up in the hospital for weeks. he had gained the promise first of all that bertrand would never say a word about what he meant to tell him. "although he admitted that his mind was hardly clear at the time, still bertrand assured me he had repelled the offer with indignation, and even threatened to beat up his tempter unless he took himself off. the man hurried away, and then in the excitement of the order for his battalion to go over the top, bertrand hale forgot all about it. "from that time on it was nothing but fighting and sleeping for him, so he had no time even to think of warning you. then he got into the mess this morning that finished him. with that arm gone he's done with fighting, he knows, even if he pulls through. "it was the sight of me that made him remember, for he said he surely had seen me with one of you boys several times. and so he confessed, begging me to get word to you, so that if the unknown schemer did find a tool to carry out his evil plots you would be on your guard. "i could not wait after hearing that, but came as fast as i could, fearing you might have set out again and that something would go wrong with your plane. that is the story simply told, tom. can you guess why any one should wish to do either of you such a wrong as that?" "what you tell us, nellie," said tom soberly, "clears up one mystery we've been puzzling over." then he rapidly sketched what they had discovered on the preceding night, when they had arrived at the hangar prepared to go forth with the raiders, only to learn that some unknown person had been meddling with their plane. "so it looks as if bertrand's refusal to play the dirty game didn't prevent that man from finding some one who was willing to sell his soul for money," was the way tom wound up his short story. nellie was appalled. her pretty face took on an expression of deepest anxiety, showing how much she cared should ill-fortune attend these good friends of hers. "how can such wickedness exist when war had made so many heroes among our boys?" she mourned. "but you must be doubly on your guard, both of you. tell me, can you guess why this unknown person should want to injure you?" "simply to keep me from setting out for america," said jack bitterly. "let me describe my cousin randolph to you, nellie; and then tell me if what bertrand said about the unknown man would correspond to his looks." after she had heard his accurate description nellie nodded her head. "he saw very little of his face, so he said. bertrand only said the other was a man of medium build, with a soft voice that made him think of silk and then too he had a trick of making gestures with his left hand, just as you've said your cousin does. yes, something tells me your guess is close to the mark; but he must be a very wicked man to attempt such a dreadful thing." "worse than i ever thought," admitted jack grimly. "but after all nothing came of his lovely scheme; nor did it matter, since he's given me the slip, and is right now almost a third of the way across the sea. i'm like a race-horse left at the post." "whatever you do, jack, don't lose the fine courage that has been your mainstay through other troubles," nellie said, as she laid a hand on his arm and looked steadfastly into the young air-pilot's face. "thank you, nellie, for your confidence in me," he continued, showing some of his old spirit again. "i ought to be ashamed to give in so easily. yes, tom and i have been in plenty of bad scrapes, and pulled out just because we set our teeth and refused to admit we were down and out. so i'm going to try the same dodge in this case, and not acknowledge defeat until the ninth inning is through, and the last man down." "good-bye, both of you, and remember, no matter what comes some of us are always thinking of you and praying for your safety." with these words, long remembered by both boys, nellie gave each of them her hand, and hurried away before they could see how her eyes dimmed with the gathering mists. "a brave girl," said tom, with considerable vigor, as he tenderly watched her retreating figure and waved his hand when he saw her turn to blow a farewell kiss in their direction. "yes," said jack, heaving a sigh. "she and bessie seem to be our good angels in this bad mess of war, tom. i feel better after hearing her words of encouragement; but all the same i'm still groping in the dark. how am i going to beat randolph across the atlantic? for once i wish i had wings, and might fly across the sea like a bird. how quickly i'd make the start." chapter x groping for light tom realized that for once his chum was completely broken up, and hardly knew which way to turn for help. this told him that if anything were done to relieve the desperate situation it would have to originate with him. "stick to your programme, jack, and don't give up the ship. until you know that randolph has reached the other side, and entered into possession of the property, there's still some hope left." "yes, a fighting chance. and i must hang to it like a leech," admitted the other, trying to smile, but making a sorry mess of it. "how do we know what the good fairy may do for you, so as to outwit the villain of the piece?" continued tom. "while it isn't a pleasant thing to speak of, still some marauding undersea boat may lie in wait for his ship, and in the sinking who can tell what fate may overtake your cousin?" "it would only serve him right if he did go down like others, a thousand times nobler than randolph, have done before now," grumbled jack; and somehow the vague possibility excited him, for his eyes began to sparkle and take on a look that told tom he was seeing the whole thing before his mental vision. for a purpose tom chose to encourage this supposition; it would have the effect of building up jack's sinking hopes, and just then that was the main thing. so tom proceeded to picture the scene, having plenty of material from which to draw, for he had read the details of more than one submarine sinking. "it must be a terrible sensation to any passenger, no matter how brave he may think himself," he went on to say, "when he feels the shock as a torpedo explodes against the hull of the steamer and knows that in a short time she is doomed to be swallowed by the sea. and you told me once yourself, jack, that this scheming cousin of yours couldn't swim a stroke." "worse even than that!" declared jack, with a sneer on his face to express his contempt, "he's a regular coward about the water. and if they do have the hard luck to run up against a hun torpedo, randolph will be frightened half to death." "queer," commented tom, "how most of these schemers prove to have a yellow streak in their make-up, when the test really comes. just picture him running screaming up and down the deck, and being kicked out of the way by every officer of the vessel when he implores them to save him." "i can see it all as plain as day!" cried jack excitedly. "and if i know human nature the chances are those sailors would think of the coward last of all." "yes, they'd leave him to the sinking ship if there was no room in the boats, you can depend on that, jack. and now set your teeth as you usually do, and tell me again that you're not going to own up beaten until the umpire says the game is over." "i do promise you, tom," came the immediate response, showing that jack was getting a fresh grip on his sinking courage and hopes. "but all the same, i keep on groping, and i'd like to see the light." "for a change of subject," tom observed, "shall we tell lieutenant beverly about your troubles? i've just glimpsed him coming this way." "no reason why we shouldn't," agreed jack. "he's a good friend of mine and three heads might be better than two in cracking this hard nut i'm up against. but he looks as if he might be bringing us news. ten to one he's going to say the way is cleared for us to take that long trip with him to berlin and back in his big martin bomber." "too bad to disappoint him," remarked tom. "but of course that's out of the question now." "i'd have been glad of the chance to go, only for this sudden complication in my own affairs," jack sighed. "but why couldn't you take the spin in his company, tom? it's a pity to break up his plans." "and desert my chum when he's in trouble? i'd never forgive myself for doing such a thing. the lieutenant will have to find some other pals for his record making berlin and back flight." jack thought he detected a vein of regret in his comrade's voice, and he quickly flashed: "you're disappointed, of course, tom; you've been counting on that trip all the while, because its daring and dash appealed to you, just as they did to me." "forget it, please," urged tom sturdily. "it was only a dream, and, after all, perhaps it couldn't be carried out. for all we know it may be the best thing in the world for us that we're prevented from starting; for such a long flight is a great risk, and might end our careers." "well, here's the lieutenant," said jack, turning to greet the newcomer, and striving to look natural, though it cost him a great effort. "i've hurried here as fast as i could!" exclaimed beverly, his eyes sparkling with pleasure. "i wanted to bring the good news before you received it officially." "what's that?" demanded jack, turning a puzzled look toward his chum. "why, when they notified me i could have three weeks' leave of absence from duty, with no question concerning my movements during the interim, i chanced to learn that your request had also been granted. both of you will be free, don't you understand? and the big game is now open to us." "well, that's certainly good news you've brought us, lieutenant beverly," said tom, accepting the other's extended hand which was offered in congratulation. "i suppose you're counting now on getting that long flight off your mind? i regret to tell you i fear it's hull down in the distance for the two of us!" "what! you haven't flunked, tom? i'd never believe either of you could go back on me like that," cried the other, looking sorely distressed and bitterly disappointed. "circumstances over which we have no control," continued tom, while jack hung his head and looked gloomy, "have arisen to knock our plans galley-west. much as we'd be pleased to make the game, we simply can't do it." "but the bomber is all ready and waiting!" gasped lieutenant beverly. "and we're having a vacation extended to us, with no red tape or strings tied to the conditions! why, the track is cleared for the biggest flight on record, and now you tell me you'll have to drop out. see here, what's this mean? there's something queer about it all, i know." "just what there is, lieutenant," remarked jack, looking him squarely in the eye, "and it's only right you should know the reason. tom might go along with you, but he absolutely refuses to leave me alone to fight against the slickest scoundrel living. now listen, and i'll sketch the whole story for you." this he proceeded to do rapidly, omitting nothing that seemed of moment. when the meddler's secret work in tampering with their plane before they went up on the night raid was mentioned, the flight lieutenant's eyes flashed with indignation. being a pilot himself he could appreciate such rank treachery better than any layman could. "that's how the land lies," said jack in conclusion. "and you understand now just why we must disappoint you, and make you look elsewhere for two companions on your trip to berlin to frighten the huns. it breaks my heart to decline, but this other matter must take my whole attention." "you don't blame jack, do you?" asked tom. "i should say not!" came the ready answer, accompanied by a keen look, first at jack and then at the other, as a dazzling idea suddenly flashed into beverly's mind. "business before pleasure, every time with me; and it's only right you should devote every atom of your mind and body to beating that skunk to the post." "we've settled on that policy all right," said jack. "the only trouble is we haven't so far found a remedy to overcome his long lead; for he's got almost two days' run head of me, you understand." tom saw the lieutenant smile broadly and draw a long breath. then something seemed to grip his heart as he heard beverly say: "hold on! i've got an inspiration, boys. perhaps there may be a way open to beat him to it yet!" chapter xi the amazing plan "tell us what you mean, please?" begged the excited jack. "take things coolly, to begin with," warned the other; "because what i'm going to say will almost stun you at first, i suppose. but it's no new idea with me. fact is, i'd planned it all out in my mind long ago; had it more than half arranged at the time i ordered that monster martin bomber built at my own expense and shipped over to france." "yes," muttered jack, while he kept his eyes glued hungrily on the flushed face of the other. tom said nothing, but looked as though he already half guessed what was coming, if the eager and expectant gleam in his eyes signified anything. "i explained to you," the lieutenant continued steadily, "that the big bomber was equipped for a trip to berlin and back; and went so far as to say the flight could be _repeated without making a landing_, if there was any need of such a thing. all right, then; in a pinch, properly loaded with plenty of gasoline and stores, that machine would be able to take three fellows like you two and myself all the way across the atlantic, and land us on american soil! get that, do you, jack?" no one said a word for half a minute. the proposition was so astounding that it might well have appalled the stoutest heart. at that time no one had attempted to cross the atlantic in a heavier-than-air plane, a feat later on successfully accomplished. nobody had piloted the way in a yankee-made seaplane; nor had any one navigated the air passage in a monster dirigible. the three thousand miles of atmosphere lying between europe and america still stood an uncharted sea of vapor, where every imaginable evil might lie in wait for the modern columbus of aerial navigation. then jack drew a long breath. the lieutenant was watching the play of emotion across his face, and he knew the seed had been sown in good ground, where it was bound to take root. jack's extremity would be his, lieutenant beverly's, opportunity. so he returned to the attack, meaning to "strike while the iron was hot." "it staggers you at first, of course, jack," he said, in his confident, convincing way. "but why should it? the danger is great, but nothing more than we're up against every day we set out for the clouds to give battle to a tricky hun ace, who may send us down to our death. and i assure you we'd have at least a fighting chance to get across. what do you say, jack?" for answer the other whirled on his chum. his face was lighted up with that sudden and unexpected renewal of hope, just when it had seemed as though he had fallen into the pit of despair. "tom, would it be madness, do you think?" he cried, clutching the other by the arm, his fingers trembling, his eyes beseeching. "we'd have a fair chance of making it, just as colin says," tom slowly answered. "much would of course depend on contrary winds; and there'd be fighting in the fog banks we'd surely strike. but jack,--" "yes, tom?" gasped the other, hanging on his chum's words eagerly, as one might to the timbers of a slender bridge that offered a slim chance to reach a longed-for harbor. "if you decide to accept the venture i'm with you!" finished tom. at that the eager flight lieutenant showed the utmost enthusiasm. "call it settled then, jack, so we can get busy working out the programme!" he begged, again insisting upon gripping a hand of each. jack found himself carried along with the current. he could not well have resisted had he so desired, which was far from being the case. it seemed to him as though he were on a vessel which had drifted for hours in the baffling fog, and then all of a sudden the veil of mist parted, to show him the friendly shore beyond, just the haven for which he was bound. "it is, perhaps, a desperate attempt to make such a flight on short notice," jack said. "but think! if we succeed! and think, too, of that schemer winning the prize! yes, tom, since you've already agreed to stand in with me, i say--_go_!" after that a fever seemed to burn in jack's veins, due to the sudden revulsion of feeling from despair to hope. he asked many questions, and for an hour the three talked the matter over, looking at the possibilities from every conceivable angle. tom was not so sanguine of success as either of his mates; but he kept his doubts to himself. as an ambitious airman he was thrilled by the vastness of the scheme. as lieutenant beverly had truly remarked, while it held chances of disaster, they were accepting just as many challenges to meet their death every day of their service as battleplane pilots. then again it seemed to be the only hope offered to poor jack; and tom was bound to stick by his chum through thick and thin. so he fell in with the great scheme, and listened while the flight lieutenant touched upon every feature of the contemplated flight. luckily it was no new idea with him, for he had spent much time and labor in figuring it all out to a fraction, barring hazards of which they could of course know nothing until they were met. "i've got all the charts necessary," he assured them, after they had about exhausted the subject, with jack more enthusiastic than ever. "and while you boys are waiting to receive your official notifications, which ought surely to come to-morrow, since there was a hurry mark on them, i noticed, i'll rush over to the coast and see that additional supplies of fuel and food are put aboard." "don't stint the gas, above everything," urged jack. "we'd be in a pretty pickle to run out while still five hundred miles from shore. if it was only a big seaplane now, such as we hear they're building over in america, we might drop down on a smooth sea and wait to be picked up by some ship; but with a bomber, it would mean going under in a hurry." "make your mind easy on that score, jack," came the lieutenant's reply. "i'll figure to the limit, and then if the plane can carry another fifty gallons it'll go aboard in the reserve reservoir. i'm taking no chances that can be avoided. there'll be enough to bother us, most likely. and, for one, i'm not calculating on committing suicide. i hope to live to come back here aboard some ship, and see the finish of this big, exciting scrap." tom liked to hear him talk in that serene way. it showed that lieutenant colin beverly, while a daring aviator was not to be reckoned a reckless one; and there is a vast difference between the two. tom was of very much the same temperament himself, as was proved in past stirring incidents in his career, known to all those who have followed the fortunes of the air service boys in previous books of this series. "is there anything else to confer about?" asked tom. "because i can see you're itching to get away, colin." "not a thing, as far as i know," came the reply. "if any fresh idea happens to strike me i'll have it on tap when you arrive. are you sure you've got the directions how to get to dunkirk, and then how to find my secret hangar on the coast beyond the town, tom?" "we'll be ready to skip out just as soon as our official notice comes to hand," the other assured him. "that's the only thing bothering me just now," observed jack. "any delay there might ruin our plans at the last minute. as it is, we're not apt to have any too much time to beat the steamer to new york." "i expect you to show up to-morrow night, and then we can slip away unnoticed in the dark," said the lieutenant. "i've kept tabs on the weather conditions, as it's always been a fad with me; and i'm happy to say there seems to be no storm in prospect, while the winds are apt to be favorable, coming from the east, a rare thing these fall days. so-long, boys, and here's success to our jolly little flight!" after he had left them jack turned on his comrade to say: "it seems to be our only chance, and not a long one at that; but i'm bent on trying it out. anything to beat randolph to the tape, tom!" chapter xii gripped in suspense from that hour on jack continued in a fever of suspense. his one thought was of the coming of the official notification connected with their hoped-for leave. tom fancied that his chum did not get much sleep on the following night, the last both of them hoped they would have to spend in the dugout used as a billet back of the american front. so another day found them. jack took special delight in casting up figures connected with the case. these he would show to his chum, and make various comments. tom, realizing how the other was endeavoring to suck consolation from this proceeding, encouraged him in it. "by to-night," jack said, more than once, "it will be three whole days since the steamer sailed from havre. i've tried to find out how fast she is, and then figured that they'd have to slow down when passing through the barred zone. i reckon it will take her eight or nine days to get across." "oh, all of that," tom assured him; "and it might be as many as twelve. you see, the few passenger steamers still in use haven't been in dry dock for the longest time, and their hulls must be covered with barnacles, which cuts off considerable from their speed." jack gave him a thankful look. "you're the best sort of jollier, tom," he observed. "you know how to talk to a fellow who's quivering all over with eagerness and dread. what if something happens to hold up those notices until it's too late for even colin's big bomber to catch up with the steamer?" "you're only borrowing trouble when you allow yourself to fear that," was the reply. "but all the same, i mean to do everything i can to get things hurried along. i'll see the general, and with your permission explain to him that there's great need of our getting word to-day." "but, surely, you wouldn't dare hint anything about the big trip we want to take, tom?" asked jack, looking alarmed. "i should say not!" came the immediate response. "if we did that, the general would consider it his duty to put his foot down on the mad scheme right away. trust me to let him know we stand to lose out in something that concerns your whole future if the notifications are delayed beyond early this afternoon, and i'm sure he'll start the wires going to get them here." "what can i be doing in the meanwhile?" "you might see to making arrangements for crossing to the coast on the first train that goes out," answered tom. "but that's going to be slow traveling, even if we're lucky enough to get aboard," protested the other. "tom, do you think the general would permit us to take our machine, and fly to dunkirk?" "good! that's a clever idea you've hit on, jack!" exclaimed the other. "i'll take it up with the general when i see him. he might find it _convenient_, you know, to have some message sent across the country to the coast; and it would save us hours of time, perhaps win the race for us. a splendid thought, jack!" "then let's hope it can be carried through," returned the other. tom did not lose any more time but hurried away to try to get an opportunity to talk with the kindly old general. he had always shown an interest in the fortunes of the two air service boys, and they had already received favors from him on several occasions. the minutes dragged while he was gone. jack could not keep still, so nervous did he feel, but continued walking up and down, "like a tiger in its cage," he told himself. he ran through the entire gamut of possible troubles and triumphs in his mind, as he tried to picture the whole thing. "what great luck to have colin beverly break in on us just at the time when my fortunes had reached their lowest ebb," jack kept saying to himself. at last tom came back. jack could read success in his looks, even before the other had had a chance to open his mouth and say a single word. "it's all right then, i take it, tom?" he exclaimed impulsively. "didn't have any trouble at all in interesting the general," replied the messenger joyfully. "he said he'd see to having an urgent call go out to hurry the notifications along, and almost promised they'd get here by two this afternoon." "and how about the plane business?" "that's all settled in the bargain. i have written permission to make use of our plane, turning it over to a certain agent in dunkirk after we've arrived there. the general will send a message over to us which we're to deliver at the same time we give up the machine." "great work, tom! i've always said you'd make a mighty fine diplomatic agent, if ever you tried, and now i know it." "no soft-soap business, please. if it had been anybody but the general i'd have surely fallen down on my job. but you know he's always had an interest in us, jack." "do you think he suspected anything?" asked the other. "sure he did, but not _the_ thing, for nobody in the wide world would ever dream we were planning such an unheard of thing as a non-stop flight across the atlantic." tom dropped his voice to a whisper when he said this; not that there seemed to be any particular need of caution, but simply on general principles. they could not afford to take any chance of having their great plan discovered in these early stages of the game. "well, i don't know how i'm going to hold out much longer," complained jack. "i can't keep still five minutes, but have to jump up and walk it off. let's see--two o'clock you said, didn't you? that'll be nearly three long hours more. it's simply terrible, tom! sixty minutes in each hour!" "but then we'll have to eat our regular midday meal, remember," tom tried to cheer his companion up by saying. "if you prefer it, we might walk over to the field-hospital, which, by the way, i hear is to be moved ahead to-night, to keep in closer touch with the wounded straggling back from the front. the y hut's close by, too, and we'd enjoy an hour or so with the girls. nellie told me she expected her brother, harry, to be back on our sector any day now, and if he should come before we clear out we'd be mighty glad to see him." jack hesitated. "gee! you do tempt a fellow, tom," he finally remarked, as though coming to a conclusion. "nothing i'd like better than to chat with bessie and have a few of those salvation army girls' doughnuts to munch. but i guess it would be foolish in our laying off just now." "you mean the notifications might arrive while we were gone?" remarked tom, nodding his head, pleased because the other took such a sensible view of the matter. "yes. we might lose a whole hour, perhaps two, by being away," explained jack. "that would be too bad; it might even turn out a catastrophe, if in the end that hour would save us from being beaten in the race against time." "all right, then, we'll hang around and watch for something to come from headquarters. the general promised me he'd have the notifications sent over without any delay just as soon as they came." "let's go over to the flying field and watch some of the boys come in," suggested jack, and to this the other readily assented. even when an airman is off-duty his special delight lies in "hanging out" at the aviation field, seeing his fellow workers go forth, watching their return, and listening to the many thrilling accounts of battles fought, as well as perils endured. the fascination of the sport, once it has fairly gripped a man, makes him its slave; he can think of little else; and doubtless even in dreams he fancies himself performing unusual hazards and earning the applause of the multitude. however this proved to be a very good panacea for jack's nervousness and they managed to put in a full hour there. business was unusually brisk in the way of engagements; and tom more than once secretly regretted that circumstances beyond their control caused them to miss a "whole lot of fun." the enemy was up in the air in more ways than one on that day. desperation on account of the blowing up of the bridge caused the german plane scouts to meet the challenges offered by the exultant yankees, and news of many an encounter kept coming in about the time the two boys thought of leaving the field and going for their dinner. word had also been received of several accidents to american pilots, and it looked as though the history of that eventful day would set a new high-water mark in the way of losses. jack even began to fear they might be ordered to go up, which would bring about a fresh delay while communication was being established with headquarters to verify their story. so he was really glad when tom drew him away by suggesting that it was time they dined. at one o'clock they were at their headquarters, killing time and waiting. jack's nerves once more began showing signs of being frayed, or "ragged," as he called it. he jumped at the least unusual sound, and alternately looked expectant and despairing. it was now close to two o'clock, and as yet there was no sign of relief. jack jumped up for the twentieth time and started to walk back and forth, while others among the airmen were gathering their belongings together, preparatory to a change of base. then a messenger was seen hurrying toward them. jack became almost wild with excitement, until he knew for a fact the notifications had arrived. "and now," said tom, "let's put for the field and get away without any further loss of time. it's a long way to dunkirk, remember, even by way of the air line, as a bee would take it. and we must get there before dark!" they ran part of the way, and thus presented themselves before the hangar. ample preparations had already been made. the petrol tank had been filled, and, everything being in readiness, they would have nothing to do but jump aboard and make a quick start. but tom was too old a pilot to take things for granted. after that recent experience with treachery he meant to be doubly careful before risking their lives in the air. dunkirk on the channel was a considerable distance off; and a drop when several thousand feet above french soil would go just as hard with them as if it were german territory. accordingly he took a survey of the plane from tip to tip of the wings; looked over the motor, tested every strut and stay, leaving nothing to jack, who was fairly quivering with the intensity of his feelings. even the longest day must come to an end, and tom's examination was finally completed. "get aboard!" he told jack. "we're in great trim to make a record flight of it. and even the breeze favors us, you notice." "let's hope it keeps on as it is," said jack, quickly; "because an easterly wind will help carry us on our way to-night!" "we'll be in luck to have such help," tom replied. "as a rule, the passage from europe to america meets with head winds most of the way. how are you fixed, jack?" "all ready here, tom." "half a minute more, and i'll be the same. take your last look for some time, jack, at the american fighting front. we'll never forget what we've met with here, and that's a fact." "but, tom, we expect to come back again, if all goes well," expostulated jack. "in fact, we've just got to, or be accused of running away. we arranged all that, you remember, and how we'd manage to get across in such a way that no one will be any the wiser for our having been out of france." "don't let's worry about that yet," said tom. "the first big job is to get across the atlantic. ready, back there? here goes!" another minute, and with a rush and a roar the plane sped along the field, took an upward slant, and set out for the coast. the first leg of the great flight had actually been started! chapter xiii off for the channel "tom, do you think that spy left behind by my cousin could have learned in any way about our plan?" they were passing over a section of northern france, keeping a mile and more above the surface of the earth, when jack called out in this fashion. talking is never easy aboard a working plane. the splutter of the motor, added to the noise caused by the spinning propellers, as well as the fact that as a rule pilot and observer keep well muffled up because of the chill in the rarified air, all combine to make it difficult. but jack was hard to repress. especially just then did he feel as if he must find some answer to certain doubts which were beginning to oppress him. "there's no way of telling," tom answered promptly. "we've already seen that the fellow is a clever, as well as desperate, rascal. he may be an american, though i'm rather inclined to believe your cousin has found a native better suited to his needs. and such a treacherous frenchman would prove a tricky and slippery sort. yes, he may have overheard us say something that would put him wise to our big game." "i hope not, i surely do," jack continued, looking serious again. "fact is, tom, i'll never feel easy until we see the ocean under us." at that tom laughed heartily. he even put a little extra vim into his merriment in the hope of raising his chum's drooping spirits. "that sounds mighty close to a joke, jack, for a fact," he said. "i'd like to know how you make that out?" demanded the other. "why, most people would be apt to say our troubles were likely to begin when we have cut loose from the land and see nothing below us as far as the eye can reach but the blue water of the atlantic." "all right," cried jack, showing no sign of changing his mind. "i'll willingly take chances with nature rather than the perfidy and treachery of mankind. somehow, i can't believe that we're really launched on the journey." "wake up then, old fellow, and shake yourself. you'll find we've made a pretty fair start. already we've put thirty miles behind us. unless we run up against some snag, and have engine trouble, we ought to get to the channel long before dark sets in." so jack relapsed into silence for a time. as he was not needed in order to run the motor or guide the plane in its progress westward, jack could amuse himself in using the powerful binoculars. they were at the time far removed from the earth, but through the wonderful lenses of the glasses objects became fairly distinct. so jack could see much to interest him as they sped onward. finally he again broke out with an exclamation. "nothing but the ruins of towns and villages down below, tom," he called. "the fighting has been fierce along this sector, i should say. why, even the woods have been smashed, and it looks like a regular desert. poor france, what you must have suffered at the hands of those savage huns." "yes," replied the pilot, over his shoulder, "here is where much of the most desperate fighting of the british took place. some of those ruined places were beautiful french towns only a few years ago, where laces and such things were made for most of the fashionable world. now they look about like the ruins of ninevah or babylon." fortune favored them during the next hour, and even jack's spirits had begun to improve. then came a check to the sanguine nature of the outlook. "sorry to tell you, jack," reported tom, after some uneasy movements, which the other had noticed with growing alarm, "that we'll have to make a landing. after all, it's not going to be a non-stop flight to the coast. only a little matter, but it should be looked after before it develops into serious trouble. i'm going to drop down to a lower level, where we can keep an eye out for a proper landing place." "but that means time lost!" "we can spare an hour if necessary, and still get to dunkirk by evening," tom replied cheerfully. "i was a bit suspicious of that very thing, and only for our desperate need of haste would have waited to start until it had been gone over again. but then i took chances, knowing it would, at the worst, mean only a stop for repairs. sorry, but it can't be helped." when the plane had reached a distance of a thousand feet above the earth, with jack eagerly looking for a favorable landing place, the latter had managed to recover from his depression. "i see what looks like a fine stretch, tom," he now announced. "notice that road looking as if it might be pitted with shell-holes? just on its right, where that single tree trunk stands, there's a field as level as a barn floor. circle around, and let's get closer to it." further examination convinced them that they had really run upon a suitable landing place. what pleased tom still more was the fact that so far there had been no evidence of human presence near by. this meant that they would not be bothered during the time required for overhauling the engine by curious spectators, who might even question their right to be flying away from the front. the landing was made in good style, and with only a few bumps, thanks to the smooth character of the field's surface. even jack was compelled to admit that though they had met with trouble, matters might be much worse. "we'll get busy now, and soon have things as fit as a fiddle," said tom, throwing off some of his superfluous garments so as to be free to work. by this time both boys had grown to be real experts in all sorts of mechanical repairing, as every airman must of necessity become before he can pass the acid test. unlike the driver of a car on country roads, when a break-down occurs he cannot step to a neighboring house, use the long distance or local telephone, and summon help. the airman is usually compelled to depend exclusively on his own ability to overcome the difficulty. to get at the seat of trouble necessitated considerable disarrangement of the motor's parts. this consumed more or less time, and the minutes passing were jealously given up by the impatient jack. but the boys worked fast, and finally all had been accomplished. tom tested the engine, and pronounced himself satisfied, while jack looked over the field ahead of them. "it's going to take us to dunkirk without any further trouble, i give you my word for it, jack," he said. "how long have we been here?" "just one hour, lacking three minutes," came the prompt reply. "then i'm safe," laughed tom; "for i said within the hour. come, pile aboard and we'll be off. sure you examined the ground ahead, and saw to it we'd hit no bumps that might give us trouble?" "it's all right there, tom; could hardly be better. but be sure you don't change from a straight course, because there's a nasty shell-hole, about ten feet deep, to the left. if we struck that--good-night!" "i notice you marked it with that pole, jack, and i'll swing clear, you can depend on that." they had no difficulty in making a successful ascent. once free from the ground, the plane's nose was again turned toward the southwest. tom had long before marked out his course, and kept an eye on the compass as well as on his little chart. he knew they were heading for the channel port as straight as the crow flies. the sun was getting far down in the western sky, and it was now necessary to shield their eyes when looking ahead, on account of the dazzling glare that at times threatened to blind them. the character of the country below had changed materially, jack told the pilot, who seldom had a chance to look through the glasses, since his entire attention was taken up with manipulating the engine, watching its rhythmical working, and keeping the plane pushing directly on its course. "heine didn't get a chance to ruin things here when he passed through, going to paris and to his smash on the marne," jack explained. "towns and villages look natural, as i see them, and they must have harvested crops in those brown fields. this is a bit of the real france, and entirely different from the horrible desert we've been at work in so long." the afternoon was wearing away. jack frequently stared eagerly off to the west, when the sun's glowing face was veiled for a brief time by some friendly cloud. several times he believed he could see something that looked like a stretch of water, but dared not voice his hopes. then came a time when a heavier cloud than usual masked the brightness of the declining sun. another long earnest look and jack burst out with a triumphant shout. "tom, i can see the channel, as sure as you're born!" was the burden of his announcement; and of course this caused the pilot to demand that he too be given a chance to glimpse the doubly welcome sight. there could not be any mistake about it. tom corroborated what jack had declared. it was undoubtedly the english channel they saw, showing that their journey from the american front had been successfully accomplished. "now for dunkirk!" jubilantly cried jack, looking as though he had thrown off the weight of dull care, and was once more light-hearted. "and by the same token, tom, unless i miss my guess, that may be the city we're heading for over yonder a little further to the south." "then i kept my course fairly well, you'll admit," the pilot shouted at him, naturally feeling conscious of a little pride over his achievement. rapidly they pushed on with a slight change of course. jack kept using the glasses and reported his observations to the busily engaged pilot. "it'll be dusk, likely, when we land," he observed at one time. "but that doesn't cut much figure, for we can easily find our way down to beverly's hangar on the coast. he said it was only a few miles from town, and they'll know at the aviation field, of course." "he gave us the name of a british officer who would post us," added tom. after a bit they were passing over the outskirts of dunkirk, and making for what appeared to be an aviation field, since they could see various hangars, and another plane was just settling ahead of them. ten minutes passed, and jack was delighted to find that they had made a successful landing. a number of french and british aviation men hastened to surround them, more than curious to know what strange chance had brought two yankee fliers to dunkirk. of course neither tom nor jack meant to afford them the least satisfaction. they had certain business to transact, and after that was off their hands the great adventure loomed beyond. accordingly, their first act was to find the man to whom they had been referred by lieutenant beverly. "we want to see major denning; can anybody direct us to him?" tom asked. "that happens to be my name," remarked a red-faced officer on the outskirts of the crowd and who had just arrived. "what can i do for you?" "lieutenant colin beverly of the american aviation corps referred us to you, major," said tom. "we have a message for you, after which we must deliver an official packet sent by our general to the command here and make arrangements to have our plane sent back to where we started from some hours ago, on the american fighting front." "i shall be pleased to give you any assistance in my power, gentlemen," said the british major, being apparently a very agreeable and accommodating man indeed, as beverly had informed them they would find him. stepping away from the crowd the air service boys delivered their message, which was really a sort of prearranged password. "lieutenant beverly is a cousin of mine, you know; which makes me more than anxious concerning him just now," went on major denning, after these formalities had been gone through with. "why so, major?" demanded tom, while jack looked worried. whereupon the red-faced major drew them still further to one side, and, lowering his heavy voice so as not to be overheard by others, went on to say: "i, as you know, know something about that wonderful big bomber he's had sent over, and how he means to give berlin a scare shortly. i've even had the privilege of looking the monster over, and feeling a thrill at picturing how it would give the huns a fright when it appeared over berlin. but you see its presence here is a secret, and known to but few of us." "glad to hear it, major," tom remarked. "but please explain why you are worried about beverly." "that is," continued the officer, "because an explosion was heard, coming from the south, just a short time ago. everybody believes it must be the airdrome sheltering the dirigible britain sent over here for use, and which lies further down the coast. but, much as i hate to say it, i fear something serious has happened to beverly's hangar; in fact that a bomb has destroyed it, or else some rank hun treachery has been at work there!" chapter xiv ready for the start "just our beastly luck!" gasped jack, turning white with apprehension. "wait, we haven't any proof as yet," advised tom. "the major himself admits that he's only afraid it may have been beverly's hangar. hasn't anything been done to learn the truth, sir?" "oh, yes," came the quick reply. "a number of cars have gone down that way, but the road's in a shocking condition, and up to now none of them has returned to advise us. i'd be very sorry if it turned out as i fear, doubly so if beverly himself were injured or killed, because i'm fond of the chap, don't you know." "let's hope everything is all right," said tom, as composedly as possible. "and first of all i'd like to get through the business part of our errand here. i have the packet to deliver for our general. then the machine must be turned over to a representative of our government here. after all that's attended to we'll strike out for the beverly hangar." "i'll be pleased to take you there personally, if you like," remarked major denning. "and we'll accept your offer with thanks, sir. it is very kind of you," said tom, at the same time wondering what the other would say when he made the astounding discovery that the object of the expedition was even more ambitious than a mere flight to berlin and back; that indeed the daring adventurers meant to attempt a record voyage across the atlantic by air such as would vie with that of columbus. jack fell into a fever of suspense again, and counted the minutes that must be consumed in carrying out the business in hand. tom was exceedingly scrupulous concerning this. "the general was kind enough to give us a good push on our way here," he told jack, when the latter continued to fret and hint about "cutting off corners" in order to hasten their getting away. "we're bound to do our part of the job right up to the handle. besides, what do ten or twenty minutes amount to?" when tom announced himself satisfied night had settled on the land. dunkirk had for long been annoyed by the fire of a long-range monster gun, shells dropping into the city at stated intervals for weeks at a time. so, too, hostile airplanes had hovered over the channel port, trying to make it unpleasant for the british tommies in camp near by. but since marshal foch opened operations on a large scale, together with the furious drive of general pershing's army, this had altogether ceased. major denning had a car at their disposal. "it will take us to a place where we can leave the road and follow a path to the beach," he told them. "beverly has quite a force of men there looking after things, which fact makes me hope nothing could have happened to injure or destroy that wonderful bomber. but we've been pestered to death with hun bounders playing spy, and i'd put nothing past them." they set out, and were soon on the way. major denning had a man at the wheel, evidently his chauffeur, for he was a british private. he knew the road, and managed to steer clear of the obstructions that continually cropped up. "seems to me those hun pilots must have dropped most of their bombs out this way, instead of hitting the town or the camps," tom suggested, as they dodged to and fro, and often suffered severe bouncings. "no man-power to make any road repairs, in the bargain," explained the officer. "since the drive has been on we are sending every british battalion we can muster forward. these things can wait until the german is licked, which we all believe is coming shortly, with marshall haig and general pershing and general petain on the job." "wow! what's that mean?" cried jack, half jumping up as the sound of several shots not far away came distinctly to their ears. "did those shots seem to be over yonder to the right?" asked the major. "so far as i was able to judge that's where they came from," tom replied. "does the hangar lie in that quarter, sir?" "just what it does! there's certainly something strange going on around there to-night. but we'll quickly learn for ourselves, because the spot where we leave the road is just ahead of us." jack was the first out; indeed the car had not wholly come to a stand before he made a flying jump. leaving the chauffeur to watch the car, the major soon found the trail. he carried a small hand electric torch with him, a vest-pocket size, but at least with a ray sufficiently strong to dissipate the gloom under the brush and to show them what seemed to be a well defined trail. "we may find ourselves made a target by some of his wideawake guards. that they are on the alert those shots we heard a bit ago seem to testify," suggested major denning. "oh, we'll use the signal whistle; and i feel sure lieutenant beverly himself will be listening to catch it, for he expects us any minute now." "we're getting close enough just now to exercise due caution, at any rate," the guide answered in a whisper. taking the hint, tom commenced giving the signal. it was a short sharp whistle, four times repeated. hardly had tom sounded this than they heard an answer. "fine!" exclaimed jack. "he's here on deck, and perhaps everything may be all right yet." they continued along the path, and tom repeated his whistling. finally the figure of a man loomed up beyond. "that you, tom, jack?" came a voice. "hello, beverly!" jack burst out impulsively. "we've come all the way by air. what's going on around here; nothing serious happened, i hope?" "rest easy on that score, boys," the other replied, still advancing. "then the machine is still ready for business, is it?" cried jack. "in apple-pie order, down to the last drop of juice, and ready to do the builders proud. but i'm mighty glad to see you, boys, i surely am. afraid there'd be some hitch at the last minute from your end." "and," said tom, wringing the other's hand, "jack has been picturing all sorts of terrible things happening to you and the plane here, near dunkirk. he's as happy as a clam at high tide right now, i assure you." "you bet i am!" jack cried explosively, gripping the fingers of the lieutenant with great enthusiasm. "why, hello! who's this but my english cousin, major denning?" cried beverly, discovering that his two chums were not alone. "thought it best to steer them to you, and take no chances of a miss," explained the officer. "besides, to tell you the truth, i fancied seeing you start off on your long contemplated trip to wake up berlin. once i was in hopes i might even have the opportunity of accompanying you. i've a score to settle with the beast for knocking a hole in my london house and frightening my aunt almost into fits. at least you'll let me wish you _bon voyage_, beverly." tom said nothing. he realized that the major had no inkling of the real purpose of the flight about to be undertaken; and if he was to be told the facts the information must come from lieutenant beverly himself. "oh! by the way, that berlin trip will have to wait," chuckled the lieutenant, making up his mind that a clean breast of the whole matter must follow. "fact is, major, we're after larger game than that would prove to be; something calculated to stagger you a bit, i think." "you're certainly puzzling me by what you say, colin," declared the major, betraying a growing curiosity in voice and manner. "i'd like to know for a fact what you could call larger game than a non-stop flight to berlin and back, starting from the channel here. are you planning a trip to the moon, after jules verne's yarn?" "no. but something that has as yet never been attempted," came the steady reply. "it is a flight across the atlantic to america in the big bomber plane, and starting this very night!" chapter xv the long flight begun major denning was greatly astonished when lieutenant beverly made so astounding an assertion. "well, i wouldn't put anything past you yankees," he presently remarked, with a dry chuckle. "but this is something of a herculean task you're planning, colin. a flight of over three thousand miles is a greater undertaking than any plane has so far been able to carry through. and if you should meet with trouble, the jig is up with you all!" "we understand what we're up against, i assure you," tom replied. "the plan is entirely lieutenant beverly's, sir. sergeant parmly has reason to get home before the _la bretagne_ reaches new york harbor, and she's already three days out. learning this, our good friend here made a thrilling proposition, which we eagerly accepted. that's the story in a nutshell, major denning." "i must say i admire your nerve, that's all," exploded the other, shaking hands with all of them. "just the type of chap i'd like to tie up with. my word! if i could get leave, and there was room for one more aboard the big bomber, i'd beg of you to take me in. but i wish you every luck in the wide world. my word, fancy the nerve of it!" "we must remember not to speak a word so that any of the men can guess what our real destination is," beverly cautioned, as they continued along the path. "only my right-hand agent here knows the truth, and he means to keep it dark." "but they must suspect something unusual," suggested tom. "it's hinted that we are aiming at berlin, don't you know?" pursued the lieutenant, chuckling. "but believe me, the game is a bigger one than just that little jaunt, far bigger in fact." presently they came to the shore where the stout hangar was found, partly hidden under the branches of low trees and shrubbery. before them lay the sandy stretch of beach hard as a dancing floor, and well fitted to be their "jumping off" place. tom bent down to feel it, after the manner of an experienced air pilot. "couldn't be bettered much, could it, tom?" demanded lieutenant beverly confidently. "i should say not!" was the quick response. jack was feeling quite joyous since the outlook for starting on the anticipated flight had become so bright. at the same time he told himself he would not entirely lose that tense sensation around the region of his heart until they were actually off. around the hangar they found a cordon of several armed men; a fact which caused tom to remember that they shortly before had heard the report of firearms, and as yet had failed to learn the cause. then again there was that explosion down the coast. he turned to lieutenant beverly for an explanation. "we too heard the sound of an explosion," beverly told him in reply. "it came from further down the shore. there's some sort of british airdrome in that quarter, i'm informed; and possibly they had an accident there. as for the shooting, that's easily explained. my men were the cause." "spies hanging around, probably?" hazarded the major, in disgust. "we've been bothered with the slick beasts right along--shot several, but even that didn't keep the coast clear." "there have been skulkers around for some time," continued the lieutenant. "baxter tells me he'd warned them off until he grew tired, and threatened that the next one who was caught trying to peep would be fired upon. so to-night when a sentry reported suspicious movements in the brush we sent in a few shots, more to give them a scare than to do any damage." "have they tried to injure your plane, colin?" asked the major. "i understand that once my men discovered a fire had been started in a mysterious way, which they succeeded in putting out. only for prompt work it would have at least disabled the bomber so that its usefulness for the present would be nil." "the ways of those german spies are past finding out," complained major denning. "they seem to take a page from indian tactics, and resort to all species of savage warfare. it wouldn't surprise me if you found they had shot an arrow with a blazing wad of saturated cotton fastened to its head, and used your hangar as a target. history tells us your redskins used to do something like that in the days of the early colonies." shortly afterwards the monster bombing plane was wheeled out of its hangar, and became an object of vast interest to the two air service boys. tom and jack were of course familiar with its working, but needed a few hints from lieutenant beverly with respect to certain new features that it possessed. "what do you think of it, boys?" was the natural question asked by the intrepid flight commander, who of course meant to do his share of the handling of the giant plane during its long flight. "a jim-dandy! that's what!" exclaimed the delighted jack, almost awed by the tremendous size of the up-to-date machine, with its wonderful expanse of planes and its monster body in which the vast amount of stores, as well as surplus gasoline, could be stowed. "i'm confident we'll have more than a fighting chance to reach the objective we have in view," tom in his turn remarked; and even though the men standing near must have heard what he said they could not possibly suspect the truth that lay back of his words. "everything has been looked after, and right now there's not a single item lacking," lieutenant beverly assured them. "mention what you please, and i defy you to find i've overlooked it. i notice that you have brought your glasses along, jack. i have a fine pair with me, but we can doubtless use both." "and on my part," added tom, "i thought it wise to carry a few small knickknacks that i've become attached to. they ought to share my fortunes. if i cash in, my reliable old compass here, for instance, wouldn't be valued highly by any one else; but it's saved my life more than a few times." "and may again," said jack softly; "for those fogs are simply dreadful, if half that's said about them turns out to be true." tom was stooping down and feeling the firm sandy beach. "a splendid place to make our start, lieutenant," he remarked. "i selected it with that idea in view," explained the other. "besides, in a long trip, like the run to berlin, this would be as desirable a station as any. what do you think of the plane, tom?" "as well as i can see it, i am satisfied it will be all you told us," tom answered him, while jack added: "same here." certainly, as seen spread out on the almost level stretch of hard sand the monster bombing plane did have a powerful appearance that must favorably impress any experienced pilot. tom and jack had noted several things about it calculated to inspire confidence. they were taking tremendous risks, of course, but then that was nothing novel in their lives as aviators. "is there anything to delay us further?" asked jack naively, feeling that even minutes might count when the issue was so plainly outlined. "i do not know of the slightest reason," admitted lieutenant beverly, moving toward the bombing plane and followed by his two comrades. "and that being the case, let's get aboard. anything like a written message you would like to leave behind, to be sent in case we are never heard from again, boys? you can give it to my cousin, the major here, who will attend to it." both tom and jack had thought of this long before, and each had prepared a simple statement which would explain their fate in case they met with disaster on the flight. these sealed and directed envelopes they now handed to major denning. "depend on me to hold them until all doubt is past," he told them, as he warmly pressed a hand of each. then lieutenant beverly gave the word to his men, and immediately the hum of the giant motors announced that they were off on their amazing trip to span the atlantic, as it had never been done before, by way of the air! chapter xvi the first night out it was with a strange feeling of exhilaration that tom and jack realized the fact that at last they were embarked on a flight that would either bring about their death or, if successful, make a record in long distance non-stop travel in a heavier-than-air machine. the cheers of the men on the beach had been drowned in the roar of the powerful motors and twin propellers when they left the land and commenced to sweep upward in a graceful curve. both boys looked down to catch the last glimpse of france, the land so closely associated with liberty in the minds of all true americans. it was in her cause two million young yankees were at that very hour facing the boche in a determined effort to chase him back over the rhine and force a stern settlement for all the devastation his armies had wrought. quickly did the darkness blot out all trace of land. back some little distance, it was true, they could still glimpse feeble lights, marking the location of dunkirk. the french no longer feared to illuminate to a limited extent since bombing planes no longer came raiding at night, nor did that unseen monster krupp cannon deliver its regular messages of bursting shells. below them lay the english channel, and lieutenant beverly had so shaped the course that as they rose higher and higher they were heading directly across, with the eastern shore of england close enough to have afforded them a view of the land had it not been night-time. they had discussed all this many times, and settled on what seemed the most feasible route. of course, it might have been a much shorter distance had they decided to head almost south-west-by-south, making for the azores, and stopping there to prepare for another flight across to newfoundland. going that way, they would have had the benefit of the general easterly winds. but this did not appeal to tom and jack for several good reasons. in the first place, it meant that a landing at the azores would be reckoned of such importance that it must be heralded far and near. this was apt to get them into trouble with the military authorities, since they had received no _bona fide_ permission to leave the soil of france; at least, to return to america. then again jack was opposed to the plan for the reason that if they should land at the extreme point of newfoundland considerable delay must be caused by the difficulty of getting transportation to the states. all the while randolph carringford would be steadily moving on, and, landing at new york, have an advantage over jack. there was also a third reason that influenced the young navigators in deciding to take the longer course across the atlantic. this concerned the fogs such as can always be met with off the newfoundland banks, and which are often so dense that vessels flounder through them for several days at a stretch. by taking the southern course, and steering direct for the virginia shore they would be likely to miss much of this trouble, even though it was a time of year when heavy mists hang along the entire atlantic seaboard. all of them were silent for some little time, only the roar of the motor and the propellers beating in their ears. beverly had established a method of communication when in flight without unduly straining the voice. it was very similar to a wireless telephone outfit which tom and jack had employed not long back, and by the use of which they could actually talk with an operator similarly equipped, even if standing on the earth a mile below their plane. it was arranged for all three of them, and could be removed from the head when no communication was desired. in the beginning they were not in the mood to make use of this contrivance, which, however, would undoubtedly be welcome later on, when they would be passing over the apparently limitless sea and the monotony had begun to wear upon their nerves. then conversation might relieve the tension. it was jack who presently called out: "i can see lights below us. do you think we've crossed the channel, lieutenant?" "yes, that's the english shore, and doubtless dover lies directly below us, although we're at such a height that it's impossible to make sure." "what's the idea of keeping so high, lieutenant?" continued jack. "simply to avoid collision with any of the coast guard fliers, who might take us for huns meaning to attack london again after a long break. but jack, i'm going to ask a favor of you." "go to it then!" called out the other, who was plainly "on edge" with excitement over the wonderful fact that they were at last on their way. "drop that formality from this time on," said beverly earnestly. "forget that i happen to rank you, for i'm sure your commissions are only delayed in the coming. from now on let it be either plain colin, or if you prefer, beverly. we're three chums in a boat--a ship of the air, to be exact--and all ranking on a level. you'll agree to that, won't you, jack?" "you bet i will, colin, and it's just like you to propose it!" cried the pleased jack. after that they fell silent again, though now and then jack, who was making good use of the night-glasses, announced that they seemed to be passing over some city. tom had studied their intended course so thoroughly that he was able to tell with more or less accuracy what some of those places were. in so doing he always kept in mind the probable speed at which the big plane was traveling. they had veered a little, and would not come anywhere near liverpool or dublin, as jack had suspected might be the case until he looked over the chart tom had marked. on the contrary, their new course would carry them over the south of england, and just cut across the lower part of ireland; indeed, the latter might have been skipped entirely with profit to themselves in miles gained, only it seemed natural they should want to keep in touch with land just as long as possible. how steadily the giant plane moved majestically through the realms of space several miles above the earth! tom found himself fascinated by the working of the motors from the very minute he first heard them take up their steady labor. surely, if the feat were at all within the bounds of possibilities, they had, as lieutenant beverly said, "a fighting chance." of course there was always impending danger. any one of a score of accidents was liable to happen, especially after the engines had been constantly working hour after hour. such things may bother an aviator when over the enemy's country, because if a landing seems necessary in order to avoid a fatal drop, there must always arise the risk of capture. how much more serious would even the smallest engine trouble become, once they were far out over the ocean with nothing in sight as far as the eye could reach save an endless vastness of rolling waters beneath, and passing clouds overhead? tom, however, would not allow himself to brood upon these possibilities, and when they flashed across his mind he persistently banished them. sufficient to the day was the evil thereof; and if difficulties arose they must meet them bravely, doing the best they could, and accepting the results in the spirit of columbus, who was the pioneer in spanning the atlantic. jack now made a discovery that caused him to call out again. "i believe we've left the land again, and it's water down under us right now, fellows!" he called shrilly, his voice sounding above the clamor by which they were continually surrounded. "well, according to my calculations," said tom, "we should be about quit of england and striking the irish sea at its junction with the atlantic. it's that you believe you see right now." "then before long we'll glimpse ireland's lights!" cried the exultant jack. "though we're likely to pass over only the city of cork as we dash on for the big sea beyond. so far everything is moving like grease, lieu--colin." "i promised you it would," the pilot told him. "and let's hope it keeps up this way all the way through." again they ceased trying to talk since it proved such an effort without resorting to the little wireless telephone arrangement. jack did notify them, however, when he believed he sighted tiny specks far below that he took for the lights of some place of consequence; but tom, who knew better, assured him he must be mistaken. "you're straining your eyes so much you mistake other things for lights, jack," he told the observer. "it might even be the reflection of the stars on the glasses of your binoculars. we're not near cork yet, and there's no other place worth mentioning that we'll come near. rest up, jack." "plenty of time for that after we've struck out over the ocean," came jack's defiant answer. later on he again declared he saw lights. they had been speeding for some hours at a rate of more than sixty miles, which was good time for one of those monster heavily laden bombers to make. "yes, i imagine it's cork this time," said tom, when appealed to. "we veer to the left here, and pass out to sea over queenstown, don't we, colin?" "according to our mapped-out plan that's the course," came the reply, as the pilot shifted his levers, and headed a little more toward the south. their sensations at that particular time were very acute. it was as if they had reached the dividing line, and were about to enter upon a course that would admit of no turning back. "there, the last glimmer of light has disappeared!" finally cried jack in an awed tone, "and we're heading out over the atlantic, bound for america!" chapter xvii when the submarine struck it was long past midnight. in fact, the aviators could expect to see dawn break before a great while. when that event came about they knew what an appalling spectacle must greet their wondering eyes. above, the boundless expanse of blue sky, with fleecy little white clouds passing here and there, looking like islands in a sea of azure; below, an unending sea of tossing waves, with perhaps not even a fishing vessel in sight. jack fell asleep, being utterly tired out. tom too caught what he called little "cat-naps" from time to time. beverly stuck faithfully to his post, for not a wink of sleep could come to one in whose hands the destinies of the whole expedition lay. so the minutes passed, bringing them ever nearer the breaking of another day. the immensity of their undertaking no longer appalled them. it was too late for consideration anyway, since they were now fully launched upon the flight, and turning back was not to be thought of. jack, waking out of a nap, looked down, and immediately uttered a loud cry. "why, it's getting daylight, and you can glimpse the ocean! how queer it looks, fellows, to be sure! is everything going well, colin?" "couldn't be improved on," he was assured by the faithful pilot. "first i must use the glasses to see how it looks at closer range," jack continued. "then i think we ought to have breakfast. this cold air makes a fellow as hungry as a wolf. i think i must have lost myself for a bit." tom did not say anything, only smiled, but he knew that the other had enjoyed at least a full hour of sleep. "how far are we from land, tom, would you say?" next asked the observer, while he was adjusting the glasses to his eyes. "possibly a hundred and fifty miles, perhaps nearer two hundred," tom assured him, in a matter-of-fact tone, as though that was only what might be expected. "hello! i can see a vessel already, and heading into the west!" declared jack. "of course i can't make out what she's like, though i bet you her hull and funnels are camouflaged to beat the band, so as to fool those hun submarine pirates with the stripes of black and white. you don't think it's possible that could be the _la bretagne_, tom?" "well, hardly," came the quick reply, "unless something happened to detain the french steamer after she left havre days ago. she ought to be a whole lot further along than this boat is. she must be some small liner from liverpool or southampton, making for halifax or new york." jack presently tired of staring at the little speck far down below. "i wonder if they can see us with a glass," he next observed, as tom began to hand out bread and butter, with hard-boiled eggs or ham between, and some warm coffee kept in thermos bottles so as to take the chill of the high altitudes out of their bodies. "not a chance in a hundred," beverly assured him. "besides, those aboard the steamer are devoting all their efforts to watching for enemies in the water, and not among the clouds." they munched their breakfast and enjoyed it immensely. indeed it seemed as though they devoured twice as much as upon ordinary occasions. "lucky we laid in plenty of grub!" jack declared, when finally all of them announced that they were satisfied. "this atlantic air makes one keep hungry all the time. now i can see that steamer plainly, for we've dropped a little lower. oh! what can that mean?" his voice had a ring of sudden alarm about it that instantly aroused tom's curiosity. even lieutenant beverly looked over his shoulder as though he, too, felt a desire to learn more. "they seem to be firing guns!" continued jack presently. "of course we're far too high to hear the sound, but i can see the smoke as sure as i'm sitting here. can it be they're being attacked by a hun undersea boat, do you think, boys?" "such things keep on happening right along in these shark-infested waters," replied tom. "go on and tell us all you see, jack!" they were all of them thrilled by the consciousness that possibly a grim tragedy of the sea was being enacted directly beneath, without any likelihood of their being able to render succor to those who might soon be in distress. "they keep on firing," jack continued. "i can see each puff of smoke belch out. there, something has happened! i believe it was a torpedo that exploded against the hull of the steamer, for i saw a great blotch rise up, and men are running about the decks like mad!" beverly had almost automatically decreased their speed, as though inclined to hover above the ill-fated vessel as long as possible, at least to learn what followed. "they seem to be making signals!" jack presently cried out. "look around and see if you can glimpse anything coming on!" demanded tom, as though suspecting the cause of this fresh announcement. hardly had the one who gripped the binoculars started to do as he was requested than he gave a cry of mingled relief and satisfaction. "two boats racing straight for the spot, boys! destroyers, too! like as not americans, for they keep lying out here, you know, to protect our transports going over with the boys. how they do cut through the water with their sharp bows and make the waves fly! but that steamer looks as if she might be sinking right now!" the excitement grew intense. beverly even started to circle around, content to lose a few miles and some minutes if only he could satisfy their minds that all was well with the unfortunate steamer that had been so ruthlessly torpedoed without warning by the undersea pirates. "they're coming up like fun!" cried jack presently. "i can't see as well as i'd like, though, on account of the sea fog that keeps drifting along in patches like clouds. i really believe they'll get up before she founders. now the crew have started putting off boats to make sure of saving the passengers if the worst comes!" "which shows they have a capable captain aboard," commented tom. "but the sea must be pretty rough," continued jack, "because the small boats toss and pitch sharply as they start away from the steamer. hang that fog, it's going to shut the whole picture out soon. but there, one of the destroyers has arrived, and the boats are heading straight on to it." a minute later jack gave them another little batch of news. "the other destroyer is circling around, and must be looking for signs of the sub. wow! that was a terrible waterspout, though. and there goes a second one!" "they're dropping depth bombs, intending to get the slinker!" announced beverly jubilantly. "here's hoping they do then!" cried jack, and immediately afterwards added: "but it's all over for us, boys, because the fog's shut it off completely. might as well get along on our way; but i'm happy to know those yankee boats came up in time to save everybody aboard the steamer. what a bully view we had of the performance!" "it's such things that are apt to break the monotony and routine of a long flight like the one we've undertaken," remarked tom. "in time, of course, the dash across the atlantic will become quite common; and those who make it are apt to see wonderful sights." "two hundred miles out," jack was saying to himself as he sat there still holding the glasses in his hand, though not attempting to make use of them, and his eyes ranged longingly toward the western horizon where the blue of the sky touched the dark green of the boundless sea, all his thoughts centered on the goal that lay far distant across that vast waste of tumbling waters. so as the sun started to climb in the eastern heavens the flight of the big bombing plane carrying the trio of adventurous ones was continued, every mile left behind bringing them that much nearer their destination, with the future still an unsolved problem. chapter xviii the cold hand of fear noon came and went, with the same steady progress being maintained hour after hour. tom relieved beverly at the pilot's berth, and the latter succeeded in getting some much needed rest. still, none of them could sleep comfortably, which was hardly to be wondered at considering their strange surroundings. "my first nap when flying, for a fact!" admitted colin, after he had awakened, and managed to stretch his stiffened limbs. "tough work trying to get a few winks of sleep when one is quivering all over with excitement," jack remarked. they were no longer maintaining such a high course, having descended until the heaving sea lay not more than a thousand feet below. nothing was in sight in any direction, which was one reason for tom's dropping down as he did. "a lot of water," jack commented, for they had started to try out the wonderful little wireless telephone, to find that it really worked splendidly. "guess after the flood noah must have thought that way too. but shucks! we haven't got even a dove to send out." "we happen to have something better," tom told him, "which is the power to shoot our boat through space at the rate of a mile a minute. no ark business about this craft." "well, is there any objection to breaking our fast again?" the other inquired, changing the subject. beverly seemed to think not, for he proceeded to get out the hamper in which much of their prepared food was contained. "i laid in double the quantity i expected we'd devour," he told them, "and then added something to that for good measure. no telling what may crop up; and if we happen to be cast on a desert island a healthy lot of grub might come in handy." "it does right now, when we are far from any island, unless that's one up there in that dark cloud floating above us," and jack stretched out to receive his portion of the lunch as parceled out by colin. "one thing that made me drop to a lower level," explained tom, "was the fact of its being so cold up there among the clouds. already i feel better for the change." "how about it if we should sight a steamer?" asked jack. "they'd report meeting a plane flying west here in midocean, which would stir up no end of comment in the papers, and might lead to our being found out." "we depend on you to keep the glasses in use, and report anything in sight ahead," laughed tom; for the clatter of the motors did not seem to bother them in the least when using the wireless telephone. "and when you sing out 'smoke down low on the horizon to the west!' it's going to be an easy job for us to climb up above the clouds in a hurry." so it was settled, and they ate their lunch in comfort. up to that time not the slightest thing had arisen to give them concern with regard to the working of the engines. these aroused the admiration of the three voyagers by their remarkable performance. tom declared their equal had never been installed in any plane that was ever built, and lieutenant beverly's eyes glowed with satisfaction to hear his pet praised so cordially by one whose good opinion he valued as highly as he did tom raymond's. after jack had taken his turn at piloting the machine, he amused himself "between naps" by watching the surface of the sea through the binoculars. "no telling but what i may glimpse a submarine creeping along under the surface," he told the others jokingly. "then wouldn't we wish we'd brought along a few bombs--the kind they dropped on that hun bridge the night we went with the raiders. right now i could almost imagine that shark's dorsal-fin was a periscope belonging to an undersea boat." other things came along to cause momentary interest, among them rolling porpoises that rose in sight, and then vanished under the waves, though from their height the boys could easily follow their movements. jack was getting a good deal of enjoyment out of the situation, and tom was glad to notice this fact. he had feared his chum's nerves might give way under the long-continued strain; but apparently jack had returned to his ordinary condition. all of them rather dreaded the coming of night. flying in midocean while daylight lasted was serious enough, but with darkness around for many hours, the situation must awaken new anxieties. but their hearts were still apparently undaunted. the success that had rewarded their bold starting out gave abundant promise of still better things ahead. tom resolutely refused to allow himself to have any fear. what if two thousand miles still lay between them and the goal of their hopes? was not the miracle-worker of a monster plane doing remarkably fine work, and should they not continue to believe the end justified the means? so they watched the sun dropping lower and lower in the western sky without any one voicing the thought that must have been in each mind. the same inscrutable providence that had watched over them by day would still guard them when the light was gone. under the stars, seeming now so much nearer and brighter than when ashore, they went on and on, until back in the east another day dawned, the great day of hope for them! jack had taken to looking eagerly ahead once more. "what do you think you see?" beverly asked him, for tom again served as pilot at the steering gear. "why, i'm all mixed up about it," came the slow reply. "it certainly isn't a steamer, and again it just can't be land!" "well, hardly," beverly answered. "to tell the honest truth i don't believe there's a foot of land closer to us than the bermudas, which must lie off in that direction," pointing further toward the southwest. "when the sun glints on it i'm fairly dazzled," jack continued, "just as if some one had used a piece of broken looking-glass to shoot the rays into my eyes. and then there's a sort of queer mist hanging about that thing in the bargain, so that sometimes it's almost blotted out. what under the sun can it be?" "i think i can give a guess," tom called back. "how would an iceberg fill the bill, colin?" "just the thing, i'd say," the lieutenant answered, "only who ever heard of an iceberg floating down in mid-atlantic at this season of the year? such a thing would be uncommon, to say the least." "but not impossible?" ventured tom, to which the other agreed. "take a look, and tell us, colin," urged jack, offering the glasses. a minute afterwards they were handed bade again. "just what it is, tom, after all," reported beverly. "a pretty tall berg it seems to be, with an extensive ice-floe around it as level in spots as a floor. i thought i saw something move on it that might be a polar bear, caught when the berg broke away from its arctic glacier. we will pass directly over, and may be able to feel the chill." "it was the _titanic_, wasn't it, that bumped into an iceberg, and went down with such a frightful loss of life?" remarked jack. "no other," replied tom. "but we'll try to make sure nothing like that happens to our frail craft. try to guess what would happen to that monster berg if we hit head on?" "hardly a crack!" jack retorted. "but i'm more interested in wondering what would become of us. guess we'd better keep a good thousand feet up, and not bother trying to pry into the ice-floe's secrets." "i'm not dreaming of dropping a foot lower just at present," tom said decisively; and not one of them dreamed how soon that decision would have to be reversed, since all still looked fair about them, with no storm in sight and the wonderful motors kept up their regular pulsations as if capable of going on forever. yet strange vicissitudes and changes are the portion of those who follow the sea; which may also be applied to other voyagers of space, the sailors of the air. one minute all seems fair, with the sun shining; another, and a white squall is dashing down upon the ship, to catch the crew unawares and perhaps smother them with its mighty foam-crested billows. it was not half an hour later when something happened that was calculated to chill the hearts of those bold navigators, such as even close contact to the ice-floe and berg could never bring about. at the time they had reached a point almost above the field of ice from the arctic regions, and jack was scrutinizing its full extent, commenting the while on many peculiar features that attracted his attention. "it's a polar bear, all right, fellows," he announced, "and believe me he's some size in the bargain. if i had a rifle along i wouldn't mind dropping down there and rustling him. but what ails you, tom? you seem bothered about something. gee! you're as white as a ghost!" lieutenant beverly leaned forward and clutched the pilot's arm. "anything gone wrong with the motors, tom?" he demanded hoarsely. "i've just made a terrible discovery," replied tom, trying to control himself. "the worst has happened, and i'm afraid we're in for a bad time!" chapter xix a desperate chance "tell us the worst, tom!" cried beverly hoarsely. jack tried to echo the words, but his tongue seemed to stick to the roof of his mouth. he knew his chum well enough to feel assured that no ordinary hovering peril could cause the other to look so ashen pale. it must be a frightful catastrophe by which they were threatened, jack realized. "the feed pipe! it must be choking up! latterly i've more than suspected the motors were doing poorer work than before!" the others understood. under ordinary conditions they would decide on dropping to the ground for repairs; a task that might be carried out in a brief time, or consume hours, everything depending on the condition in which they found things. but how utterly impossible to dream of doing anything like that now! jack looked down to where, in the declining light of the sun, he could see that limitless sea of billowy water. how different indeed all might be were their airship a seaplane, capable of floating on the surface of the water and making a successful launch from it, just as a gull would do. "i'll take a look, tom!" lieutenant beverly called out. "not that i doubt what you say, but all of us will have to put our heads together; we shall need all our wits if what you fear proves to be a fact." tom was more than willing, in fact he would have himself insisted on the lieutenant or jack doing this very thing. pilots differ in plenty of ways; and, as beverly had said, one might hit on an answer to the problem that had entirely escaped the others. jack said not a word, but almost held his breath while beverly was making his eager examination. the plane was not more than a thousand feet above the sea at most, and going very slowly now. a short time elapsed. then beverly completed his task. the flight lieutenant looked more serious than ever, which told the story even before he uttered a single word. apparently the worst had come, and they were up against a question on the answer to which everything, even life itself, depended. "i'm sorry to say it's a positive fact, boys!" called out beverly, and as both the others were straining their ears to catch what he said, they had no difficulty in hearing every word. "it's the supply pipe clogging then?" tom asked. "yes," came the quick answer. "and while under some conditions i've been able to get along for a short time without dropping down, as a rule i've found it wise to look for a landing-place before things got to the point of desperation and avoid a fall, possibly in the midst of a german battalion." "no chance of our getting at it while afloat, is there?" jack asked, although he knew what beverly was bound to say. "not the slightest," the other shot back. "it might keep going for something like an hour, and then shut off the gas entirely. of course there's always a possibility of a miracle happening, such as the obstruction being suddenly overcome; but i'm afraid that's one chance in a million." "but can't something be done, boys? must we just fold our hands, and meet our fate?" demanded jack. "what are you thinking about, tom, for i can see a look in your face that we ought to know? have you an idea--is there yet a hope that we can get a grip on this danger, and choke it?" tom's face was still colorless, but there was a gleam in his eye, which jack had discovered. perhaps after all it might be only the light of desperation, a determination to die game if a cruel fortune decreed that their time had come. jack could not tell. "yes, i have a plan," said tom quickly. "perhaps you'll both call it a wild idea, and think i'm crazy; but desperate cases call for equally desperate remedies, and at the worst we'll have a chance." "good boy, tom!" cried jack. "just like you to hit on a plan! haven't i known you to come to the front many times when things looked very black for us?" "tom, tell your scheme!" demanded beverly. "things may develop faster than we suspect now, and if there's any way to get around this trouble the sooner we start the better." "of course," tom replied, "we'll be taking the risk of smashing the nose of our craft when we strike, unless luck favors us. i've landed on every sort of ground, from smooth velvety turf to bumpy stuff that almost joggled me to pieces; but i never before tried dropping on an ice-floe!" beverly and jack stared hard at each other. apparently the idea struck them like a sudden blow, showing that neither had as yet contemplated such a thing. then they turned and stared down at the wide field of floating ice that was attached to the towering bulk of the mighty berg, as though weighing the possibility of tom's amazing suggestion in their minds. jack gave a shout. "tom, you're a genius, that's what you are!" he almost shrieked in the intensity of his emotion. "i honestly believe it can be done successfully." "we'd have to drop a whole lot lower, so as to take a closer survey, and learn just how smooth the surface of the floe is," tom continued. "i've looked through the glasses," replied jack. "and as far as i could make out it seemed fairly decent. i know we've landed on worse ground many a time, and without being wrecked." "look again then, while i'm dropping down," urged tom. all of them were tremendously excited, as may readily be believed. and who would not have been under similar conditions? although army air pilots are accustomed to taking great risks, and seldom go up without the thought flitting through their minds that their hour may be close at hand, still they are human, and when the dreadful crisis springs upon them they can feel the chilly hand that seems to clutch the heart. jack soon made his report. "yes, it looks good to me!" he cried, with a hopeful ring to his voice. "i can see a crack or two that would be bad for us to run into; but there's a clear field over on the north side of the floe. i'm sure we could make it without getting badly shaken up. then it's our only chance; if we miss this what else could we do?" "nothing," tom replied quietly. "but i'm going to circle the berg, and see what lies on the other side." "whatever we decide to do," remarked beverly, who seemed to have recovered to a great extent from his first perturbation, "we must lose no time about carrying it out. that feed pipe might become fully clogged at any minute, you know. then besides, the sun is ready to dip down behind the sea horizon, when we'll soon be plunged into darkness." "yes," agreed tom, "we mustn't fool away our time. it's going to be no easy job to make a safe landing on the ice, something none of us has ever practiced. but it'd be still worse to go at it haphazard." the others knew what was in tom's mind. should they seriously injure the big bombing plane there would be no way of making repairs. on land it could be turned over to the repair-shop, and inside of a week perhaps emerge once more in as good shape as ever. no such convenience could be looked for out there in mid-atlantic! in a short time they had circled the great mass of ice. they all fully realized now how cold it was, and why the sea water must be affected for a mile or more all around such a tremendous bit of the arctic regions. they found that most of the floe lay on the north side of the berg; and decided that their best chance for landing must be in that quarter. "the old berg looks top-heavy," jack at one time called out. "you can see that it leans toward the north; and sometimes i've thought it wobbled considerably, though that may have been the plane waving up and down." "no, you were right, jack," said beverly. "its leaning that way tells that the warmer sea water has begun to eat at its base. before a great while the berg will roll over, and smash all that floe into bits." "i hope not when we're on it, working at our motor!" jack could not keep from exclaiming, looking with more interest than ever at the monster berg that had come all this distance from some glacier a thousand miles away, perhaps several times that distance, and would sooner or later lose itself in sub-tropical waters. lower still tom took them. all eyes continued to survey the field of ice, particularly in that extreme northern sector where jack had reported lay the best place for landing. "once more in a circle so as to face the wind," said tom, "and then i mean to put it to the test." "good luck to you, tom!" said jack. "if ever you dropped as if you were falling on eggs, let it be now. i'm going to hold my breath when we strike the ice, and only hope we don't keep gliding along until we shoot off the edge into the sea!" "leave that to me, jack," came the assurance of the pilot. after that no one said a word, for both lieutenant beverly and jack parmly realized that it would be dangerous to distract tom's attention from his work just at the most critical moment. the sun had reached the horizon, and inside of a few minutes must vanish from view. at that moment tom shut off the engine, and made ready to alight! chapter xx on the ice floe if ever tom raymond had need of skill and care it was then, for what might be an ordinary mishap ashore must be a fatal accident under the conditions by which they were faced. but almost as lightly as a snowflake touches the ground he brought the wheels under the big bomber in contact with the ice. indeed, jack could not tell for a certainty when the actual contact occurred; though immediately afterwards he found himself being shaken more or less as the heavy plane bumped along over the ice. one peril still menaced them, which was that their momentum, unless halted, might carry them to the terminus of the floe, and plunge them over. but tom had taken all precautions, and allowed for everything, even an unusual slide on account of the smooth surface under the wheels. slower grew their progress, though the bumping continued unabated. and finally they had come to a full stop, with still some little stretch of the ice field ahead. then jack tried to yell, cowboy fashion; but, to his surprise and disgust, he could hardly make a sound above a whisper, his voice having failed him through sheer nervous excitement. he jumped from his seat, and immediately sat down with a rude jar on the ice; but, nothing daunted, he quickly scrambled to his feet and began to dance like a wild indian might when the war tocsin sounds through the village, and all his primeval instincts are aroused by the thought of fighting and plunder. tom and lieutenant beverly also hastened to leave their seats. they too found that their legs were cramped and almost useless, through having maintained a sitting position during so many weary hours. jack's exuberant spirits caused him to fairly hug his chum. "didn't i know you could do it, tom?" he cried. "see how the old luck keeps hanging over us, will you? it's always been this way, colin; and to have tom along means success every time." "that may be," the lieutenant replied, giving tom a fond look; "but if i were you i'd call it something more than just luck. it takes brains to think up such schemes as this one, brains and a lively imagination in the bargain; and tom's rich in both of those requirements." "let's get busy, and see about fixing that feedpipe," broke out the modest object of all this praise. "we have only a short time of daylight to work in, and after that must depend on our little searchlight torch." all were willing to start work. jack found himself shivering slightly, although they had not been on the ice-floe many minutes. "gee, but it's certainly cold, for a fact!" he exclaimed. "i'd hate to be marooned here any length of time, let me tell you, even if we did have grub enough to last over a week. why, we'd freeze to death; not to mention what would become of us when the old berg crashed over and scattered all this floe ice!" "let's hope that our stay will be of short duration then," said beverly, with a quick and apprehensive glance in the direction of the towering iceberg, upon the peak of which the last rays of the sinking sun glinted until it seemed to be frosted with a million diamonds. tom was already busily engaged, after the bomber had been wheeled partly around, in order that he might have the benefit of what light remained with the departure of day. beverly and jack hovered over him, ready to give advice, or lend a helping hand. of course none of them had ever had to do with this particular type of a plane; but then all engines have many similarities in their construction, and tom, as well as the other two, had proved themselves to be capable mechanics, as well as able pilots. finally, as it was impossible for the three of them to work at the repairs, jack walked around and examined the singular formation constituting the berg and attendant ice-floe. "why," he told himself in glee, "it floated across our path when we needed a landing-place the worst kind, as if we'd ordered it to be held in waiting. it might be the next time there'll be a convenient island handy, though i hope there'll come no next time." he even found a way to climb on to the berg itself, though in most places the field ice was chopped into small bits by some action on the part of the vast bulk, perhaps during a high wind and a heavy sea. "all i want to be able to say is that i've been on a regular iceberg," jack announced, after he had once more returned to his mates; "but it's frigid, let me tell you. why, there's enough ice in that mountain to freeze all the cream made around new york in a whole season, and then some." he found that tom was still busily engaged, with beverly bending down in frequent consultation. "say, is it going to be anything serious, fellows? worse than we at first thought?" beverly looked up and gave him a reassuring smile. he was now holding the little hand-torch and directing its ray so that tom could get the full benefit. "no reason to believe so, jack," he remarked quietly. "tom's still of the opinion that we ought to have it all fixed up for keeps before an hour goes by, if things keep on working as we expect." "fine! you make me happy when you say that, colin!" jack returned. "if only the berg doesn't roll over before we get out of this, i'll consider that we have much to be thankful for," he added slowly. "could you feel any motion when you stood on that lower shelf of the berg?" asked beverly, showing that he had watched what jack was doing. "i should say i could," the other assured him. "it nearly made me sea-sick. i'd hate to have to stay here very much longer. if you watch a cloud passing you can see just how the peak dips, and swings back and forth. it's getting ready to tumble, and before long!" tom worked on. he too realized that the longer they were compelled to stay on the ice field the greater their danger must become. if that towering berg ever did turn over bottom-up it would smash the floe into fragments and churn up the adjacent waters in a way that would leave no avenue of escape for the trio of adventurous air pilots who had alighted there by reason of circumstances beyond their control. his hands felt cold, and he was compelled at times to get up and thrash both arms about to induce circulation in his extremities. beverly and jack both offered to take his place, but tom, having started the job, thought he had better finish it if possible. "everything seems to be working along as good as pie," beverly reported, in order to add to jack's peace of mind, for he knew the other must be growing a bit anxious again. delay meant so much to jack in this endeavor to beat the steamship across the atlantic. "if you've no objections, i'll rustle after that grub bag, and indulge in something to help get rid of this empty feeling i've got. we'll all feel better for something to eat," said jack. "i think tom could work faster if he would take time now for a sandwich." "you're right, perhaps, jack," returned colin. "although we had better wait for a full meal till we get in the air." "here's luck, boys!" cried jack a minute afterwards. "what have you found now?" asked tom, without looking up. "why, the coffee's still hot. and let me tell you, it feels good to my hands. there never was a finer thing for poor air pilots than these bottles that allow them to have a warm drink when two miles up, and in freezing temperature. this will put fresh life in our bodies." "that isn't half bad," answered tom; "so hand it over, and i'll take a drink or two." tom swallowed his coffee and hastily ate a sandwich, but the others, without tom's reason for haste, ate hungrily. never, they confessed, had they felt such voracious appetites as on this flight. perhaps the invigorating sea air had something to do with it; but jack, at least, was not the one to bother himself about the cause, so long as the provisions held out. some time passed in this way. tom at work, beverly holding the flashlight in one hand and taking in the other such food as jack handed to him. tom had just remarked he believed he had effected a radical cure, and that the feed-pipe was not likely to become obstructed again; at the same time jack could see he was starting to put things together once more. it began to look as though they might be ready to make a fresh start in a very short time, not more than ten minutes, jack figured. it thrilled him to realize this fact. he even glanced toward the towering berg as if to say: "now be good, and just hold off your gymnastics till we get started, old chap! afterwards you can cut up as much as you please, and little we'll care. but i've got too much at stake right now in getting to land to have any silly ice mountain turn over on me. so forget your troubles for another half hour, if you please!" just then jack saw something move close by. a scuffling sound, followed by a strange sniffling, could be plainly heard. jack bent down and clutched beverly by the arm, saying shrilly: "listen, both of you! that polar bear is coming for us, and i think he means business, too!" chapter xxi attacked by a polar bear "here's trouble, all right!" grumbled beverly, as he turned, looking to where jack was pointing, and also discovered something moving. tom dropped his monkey-wrench. something else besides a tool of that kind would be needed to defend them against the claws and teeth of such a bulky monster as a huge polar bear. all of them could now make the animal out as beverly concentrated the little ray of light upon him. the beast was advancing slowly, but pugnaciously, sniffling the air, and evidently furiously hungry on account of his prolonged cruise upon the icefield, deprived of his customary fish meals. "what ought we do, tom?" jack called out hurriedly. "if we retreat, like as not he'll muss things up around here, and maybe ruin our plane for us." "we must keep him away!" announced lieutenant beverly. "it would mean death to us all if he got to tumbling around and smashed some of the parts of the machine." as he said this he fumbled about his person, producing the automatic pistol with which he usually went on his flights; and without which few air pilots venture to enter into combat with enemy fliers. tom duplicated his act immediately, while jack, at the same time, secured his weapon from the place where he kept it when in his seat. so, after all, things did not seem to be altogether favorable to bruin; and had the bear only known what he was up against possibly he would have found it discreet to back off and let the three strange creatures alone. "be sure to hold your fire, boys!" lieutenant beverly ordered, taking command. "we must be like old put at the battle of bunker hill, and wait till we can see his eyes clearly. it's going to be hard to drive off that big rascal with only pistols! aim for the spot back of his foreleg if you can; that may reach his heart!" there was not much time for preparation, since the bear kept advancing at the same shuffling gait. tom tried shouting at him, hoping the sound of a human voice might cause the beast to alter his intention, and turn back. the bear did stop, and thrust his muzzle further out as though to get a better whiff of the queer animals against which he found himself pitted. "didn't go, tom, for he's coming on again!" cried jack. "get ready to give him a volley," the lieutenant ordered. "tom, move off a bit to the right, and i'll go to the left. that may upset his calculations some; and besides, we'll have a better chance to bore in back of his forelegs. jack, stand where you are, and shoot when we do!" "i'm game!" came the steady reply. both the others made a quick move, and the bear found himself facing three separate points of peril. he growled fiercely, and came on again, straight toward the plane, which seemed to have aroused his curiosity. perhaps he fancied it was some monster bird that would afford him more than one good meal. "give it to him, everybody!" suddenly shouted lieutenant beverly. hardly had he uttered the last word than there was a rattle of firearms as the three of them discharged their weapons. there arose a mighty roar of anger as the bear felt the sudden pain of bullets entering his flesh. "again! he's staggering, but full of fight yet!" once more the pistol shots rang out. the bear was moving, but seemed to be growing quite weak and confused, for once he fell half over, though managing to recover and push on. it took several more rounds before the huge bulk rolled over, gave a few spasmodic kicks, and then expired. "bully work, boys!" shouted jack, as he hurried forward to take a close-up view of their victim. "gee whiz! but isn't he a buster though? never did i dream i'd help bring down a real arctic white bear! and just to think of the queer conditions of this hunt, too, will you? i wager, now, there never was one like it--by airplane at that!" after one look at the bear tom returned to his task. shooting game was all very fine, but he had business of a different character to call for his attention just then. "wonder if the old chap has got a mate around?" suggested jack, a sudden thought causing him to survey the ice-floe as seen under the faint light of the stars that were beginning to show in the heavens above. "not one chance in a thousand he had company," beverly insisted; "but no harm in your keeping a wary eye about, jack, while tom gets things in shape again. i have to stay here with the light. if you've a sharp knife what's to hinder you from taking one of his claws for a trophy?" "i'll do that same. thank you for reminding me, colin! some fellows i know are such doubting thomases you have to be in a position to prove everything you tell them. tom, loan me that knife of yours, please. it's got an edge like a razor to it, and those paws look simply immense." "make haste about it, for we'll soon be ready to skip out of this place," tom warned him as he handed over the knife. jack began to work industriously. he found he had undertaken no mean job when he contracted to sever one of the front paws of the dead polar bear. not only did he have to cut through ligaments and tough skin, but the bones themselves gave him no end of trouble. he solved this by finding the heavy monkey-wrench, and using it as a hammer, with the knife in place, thus actually severing the paw complete after considerable trouble. "there, isn't that a regular beauty to show?" he demanded, holding up the result of his labor. "i feel something like a young indian warrior who's just killed his first grizzly, and means to hang the claws about his neck to prove his bravery." he stood looking down at the monster bear for a minute, debating something in his mind. "i wonder now," jack finally observed, "if we could eat that bear meat, supposing something happened to keep us marooned on this ice for weeks at a stretch? what do you think about it, tom?" "it might be possible, if we got in a bad pinch and were almost starving," came the reply. "but you must remember we'd have to swallow it raw, because we haven't any means for making a fire; and trying to kindle a blaze on the ice would be a tough job." "then i'm glad to know we don't have to depend on bear meat to keep us from starving," jack announced. "pretty nearly through, tom?" "five minutes more ought to see us ready to start. i'm pretty hungry though and would like something more to eat. you boys ate a good deal, but you called it 'a snack,' and not 'supper.'" "on the whole," colin suggested, "perhaps we'd better leave the supper until we get to moving smoothly again. things ought to taste better if we feel we've got the bulge on this engine trouble for fair." jack did not try to urge any undue haste. nevertheless he looked several times in the quarter close by where the big berg raised its cone, as if his uneasiness now might be wholly concerned with its possibilities for making fresh trouble. was it imagination, or some sort of optical delusion that made the tip of the huge berg seem to come lower and lower, then draw back again as if making a ceremonious bow like a dancing-master? jack gasped, and opened his lips to cry out, but thinking better of it restrained the temptation. they could not get away until the repairs were complete. at the same time, while trying to make himself believe he had magnified the thing, he was conscious of a louder grinding noise than any heard up to that moment. tom was putting the finishing bolt in place. a few more efforts and he would be able to announce that his task had been completed. jack became conscious of a peculiar undulating movement to the ice under his feet. it was just the same as he could remember experiencing when on skates, and going at full steam over a thin section of ice that must have easily broken under his weight only for the speed with which he crossed over. was the ice floe about to break up? would it result in several smaller sections separating from the main stem, none of which might be of a size to allow them sufficient room for making a start? the thought alarmed jack. he also knew that undoubtedly any movement to the pack ice must be caused by some action of the giant berg. was that mountain of ice about to take the plunge at last, and turn over, its base being eaten away to such an extent that the whole had become top-heavy? once again did jack turn his startled eyes to the left. he could not get it out of his mind how terribly suggestive that "bow" on the part of the berg had been. there it was, coming again! perhaps the wind had grown stronger since they dropped down upon the ice, and was adding its force to the action of the waters. jack found himself unable to hold in any longer. if such a dreadful peril hung over them it was time his companions knew the need of haste in getting free from that doomed field of ice. so he put all doubts behind him and gave tongue. "hurry, hurry, tom! the iceberg is acting queerly. it's tottering as if ready to roll over on us! don't you see how it acts, tom?" chapter xxii when the iceberg rolled over fortunately tom had everything ready for an immediate start, acting under orders, jack and beverly having previously changed the position of the big plane, so that it now faced the run taken when landing. this brought the wind back of them; but that would be an asset rather than a detriment. they had also gone hastily over the course to make absolutely certain there was no break, or other trap, which might give them serious trouble. "jump aboard, both of you!" cried tom, still keeping his head--a lucky thing, since to get "rattled" in such a crisis might prove fatal. the beating of the engine and the whirr of the propellers announced that they were off. on the comparatively smooth ice it was easy to make a start unassisted by mechanics or hostlers. jack's heart seemed to be in his throat, and he waited in feverish suspense to learn whether success or failure was to be their fortune. faster now grew their progress, but would the stretch of ice prove a long enough area to give them the necessary momentum? every second they expected to hear horrible grinding noises from behind, such as must accompany the toppling over of the berg. even the splash of waves against the further side of the big ice-floe seemed like the pounding of a monster hammer, at least to jack's excited imagination. they were now drawing perilously near the brink. was tom ever going to elevate the plane and attempt the rise from the flat surface of the ice? just when it seemed to jack that hope must yield to despair he realized that the jumpy motion of the plane ceased suddenly. he knew what this meant, and that tom had finally shown his hand, for they no longer bumped along but began to move through space! then jack fell back, breathing freely again. success had rewarded their efforts, and once more the big bomber was speeding through its own element on the wings of the wind. but it had indeed been a narrow escape for the adventurous trio; for hardly had they started to swing upward into space when from behind them arose a series of horrible crashings, gurglings, and the mad splashing of water, telling that in truth the giant berg had carried out its threat and rolled completely over, playing havoc with the entire floe. no one spoke immediately. in fact, none of them could have uttered a word, no matter how hard he had tried. in each young heart a feeling of intense gratitude reigned, as well as a sensation of horror, for only too well did they know what their immediate fate must have been had they remained prisoners on the ice but another two minutes. tom pointed the nose of the plane directly into the southwest. he even seemed to be getting additional speed out of his motors, as though bent on making up for the lost time. all of them began to settle down for another long monotonous period with the whole night before them. far from comfortable might be their situation, but not a single complaint would be heard. all they asked was that things might go on as they were, with the plane reeling off knot after knot of the cruise into the west. after a while jack remembered that tom had had but a bite of supper. accordingly he got out the supplies and proceeded to serve them. then he took tom's place for a while and held the airship true to her course. they kept about five hundred feet or so above the sea. somehow it gave them a little encouragement just to catch the glint of the stars on the tumbling waves below. there was a friendliness in the billows, a something that seemed to keep them in contact with their fellow men; a thing which they missed when passing along two thousand feet or more above the surface of the terrestrial globe, even beyond the floating clouds. so the long vigil was taken up. hour after hour the giant bomber must wing its swift flight, ever speeding onward into the realm of space through which it was now making a voyage unequalled since columbus sailed his three high-decked boats into that unknown ocean at the end of which he expected to come to the east indies. by turns they managed to get some sleep, each serving his trick as pilot. the hours grew into early morning. how eagerly did the pilot often turn his tired head to gaze backward toward the east, to see if but the first faint gleam of coming dawn had appeared there. and how joyfully did he welcome it when that desire became reality. so the unfolding day found them, still heading onward, and with everything promising well. jack, of course, had his binoculars out as soon as it was possible to see any distance. shortly afterwards he made an important announcement. "smoke head of us, fellows. much too much to come from any one steamer. you can see it with the naked eye, dead on there!" after taking a good look, tom, who was at the wheel, gave his opinion. "it might be a vessel afire," he said slowly. "one of those tank-oil steamers would make a fierce smoke, you know. but on the whole i rather believe it's a convoy of troop ships going across to france." "i never thought of that, tom!" cried jack, again clapping the glasses to his eyes; "but i reckon you're right, for i can see funnels of black smoke rising from different quarters. yes, there must be dozens of boats in that flotilla. what had we better do?" "go aloft, and try to keep out of sight among the little clouds," was the immediate reply tom made. "we could continue to watch, and see all that passed below, at the same time keeping ourselves fairly invisible. they'll hardly be looking up so as to discover a speck floating past. and then again all that smoke is bound to make it difficult for them to see." he lost no time in commencing a spiral climb for altitude, boring upward with the powerful bomber in a way that was wonderful. by degrees they attained the height desired, and once again did tom head into the southwest. jack reported what he saw from time to time, calling above the noise made by engines and propellers. "it's a big convoy, all right," he told them. "i can see ever so many steamships following one another in double column. each is loaded with our boys in khaki, i presume. then off on either side and ahead are little specks that i can just make out by reason of their smoke streamers. those must be the score or more of destroyers, guarding the flotilla against u-boat attack. it's a great sight, let me tell you! here, colin's getting out his glasses to take a look. tom, you must have a chance too." each in turn managed to survey the stirring spectacle as spread out upon the sea far beneath them. and the pulses of those gallant lads throbbed with pardonable pride when they realized what magnificent efforts america was making to win the war in favor of the allies, after entering it so late herself. gradually the great smoke cloud began to grow more distant, the fleet with its convoy having passed by, continuing to head into the east, where the lurking u-boat would possibly be waiting to attack. "that was a great sight!" exclaimed tom, as their attention again turned to possibilities lying before them, rather than what had passed by. "never forget it as long as i live!" jack declared vehemently. "it's been a good thing for us in more than one way," tom went on to say. "you see, personally, i've been just a bit in doubt about our actual bearings; and this has set me straight. i can put my finger on the actual spot on the chart where we'd be likely to meet the fleet. so now we've got to change our course sharply." "running more into the south-southwest, you mean, i suppose, tom?" asked beverly. "just that," continued the acting pilot. "we want to strike the virginia shore, you understand, and right now we're off long island. after several hours on our new course we'll again make a sharp swing into the west, and then look for land!" "and that land, oh, joy! will be our own america!" cried jack, his face fairly beaming with expectation. they kept booming along on the new course for several hours, and as it did not seem necessary to continue at such a great altitude they again descended to the old familiar line of flight, with the sea about five hundred feet below. "given another hour," tom said, along about the middle of the morning, "and it will be time to strike for the west. we must be off delaware or the tip of maryland right now. jack just reported a faint glimpse of land, but wasn't sure it might not be a low-hanging cloud bank." "and now we're in for another experience, i'm afraid," called out jack, "for there's a nasty sea fog sweeping along from the south. we're bound to drive into it before five minutes more--the first real mist blanket to strike us all the way across." jack's prediction proved no idle one, for in less than the time specified they found themselves suddenly enveloped by a dense mantle of mist through which it would have been utterly impossible to have seen anything a hundred feet away. tom for one did not like the coming of that fog just when they were about to drew near the land of their hopes. unlike a vessel, they could not come to anchor and ride it out, waiting for the fog to lift; but must drive on, and desperately strive to find some sort of landing. "the thickest fog i ever saw!" jack observed, after they had been passing through the moist gray blanket of mist for some little time. "just the usual kind you'll meet with on the sea at times," answered the lieutenant. "i was caught in one when out on the fishing banks, and it wasn't any too pleasant a feeling it gave me either. but for our compass we'd never have reached shore again." "and but for the compass right now," said tom, "it would be next to impossible to steer a straight course." "one good thing," jack told them; "very little danger of a collision, such as vessels are likely to encounter in so dense a fog." "no, the air passage across the atlantic hasn't become so popular yet that we have to keep blowing a fog horn while sailing," laughed colin. all of them were feeling considerably brighter, now that their wonderful venture seemed to be drawing close to a successful termination. if only their luck held good and allowed them to make a safe landing, they felt they would have good reason for gratitude. "what makes it feel so queer at times?" jack asked later on. "why, i seem to have the blood going to my head, just as happened when looping the loop, and hanging too long in stays." "i've noticed the same thing myself," added colin briskly, "and tried to figure out the cause. tom, what do you say about it?" "a queer situation has arisen, according to my calculation," the pilot told them. "fact is, without being able to see a solitary thing anywhere about us, above or below, it's often impossible to know when we're sailing on a level keel, or flying upside down!" "that's a fact," admitted lieutenant beverly. "when you haven't the slightest thing to guide you, stars, sun, or earth, how can you tell which is up or which is down? we go forward because of the compass; but part of the time i do believe, just as you say, tom, we've been flying upside-down!" "i don't fancy this way of flying," tom announced. "i think it would be better for us to climb in order to see if we can get out of this pea-soup." "ditto here!" echoed jack. "i'm getting dizzy, with it all, and my head feels twice as heavy as ordinary. you can't mount any too soon to please me, tom." lieutenant beverly was not averse, it seemed, so the call became unanimous. "all we want is to sight land," the lieutenant remarked. "then we can start for the interior, and try to pick a nice soft spot for landing without getting all smashed up." later on he was reminded of that wish by jack, for they certainly found such a spot, as future events proved. by climbing to a considerable height it was found that they could avoid the uncomfortable experiences that had befallen them closer to the surface of the ocean. here the sun was shining, and while clouds floated around them there was no longer a chance of the plane being inverted. jack could make out land at times, though still faintly seen, and lying low on the uncertain horizon. "i wonder if that can be virginia i see?" he sometimes said; but talking more to himself than trying to make the others hear. "it isn't far away at most, jack," beverly assured him; for he sympathized with jack and the reason the other had for longing to get to the home town ahead of his scheming cousin. "show me the chart and just about where we ought to be right now, tom," said jack. "that is, if it's no trouble." "no trouble to do it," came the quick reply, and with a pencil tom made a cross on the chart while jack's eyes danced with joy. "then that must be virginia off there to the west!" he cried, again snatching up the glasses for another earnest look. tom watched him out of the corner of his eye. well did he know that as jack feasted his gaze upon the far distant land in imagination he was seeing that dearly loved home, with the friends who were so precious to him, and in fancy receiving their warm greetings. they continued on for some little time. tom felt pretty confident that he was correct, though he would be glad to have some confirmation of his figuring. "the fog is thinning some!" he finally stated, "and i think we'd better seek a lower level." "might as well," added beverly, approving of the idea instantly. "yes," added jack, "when the time comes to fly landward we'll want to be down far enough to see where we're going. we needn't be afraid any longer of making a sensation, because seaplanes must be cruising over these waters nearly every day, coming from the station near fortress monroe at hampton roads." accordingly it was not long before they were skirting the upper reaches of the diminishing fog bank, being about a thousand feet or so above the sea itself. now and then slight rifts appeared in the disappearing mist, and at such intervals it was possible for them to catch fleeting glimpses of the atlantic, whose wide expanse they had successfully spanned, an event that would make history, if only it could ever be publicly known. jack could no longer see the low shore, much to his distress; but then he knew positively it was there, and when the time came to change their course directly into the west a brief flight would carry them over the land. it really mattered little to him where they made their landing, since he would be able to find a way of reaching bridgeton within a few hours. he consulted his little wrist watch again and again. tom was more than a little amused to see jack even clap it close to his ear. he knew the reason of his doing this, for time was crawling on so slowly in the estimation of the impatient one that he even suspected the faithful little watch had ceased to go, though its steady ticking must have speedily assured him such could not possibly be the case. "listen!" lieutenant beverly suddenly called out. a strange weird sound came faintly to their ears. even above all the noise of their working engine they could make it out. to any one who came from the interior of the country it might have seemed a bewildering sound, and have called up strange fancies connected with marine monsters that were said to have once inhabited these waters near the gulf stream. but the trio of voyagers had lived too long near the coast not to recognize a fog-siren when they heard its strident call. jack in particular was exultant. "tell me, is that the anchored light-ship's siren, tom, do you think?" he demanded, with considerable excitement. the pilot nodded his head, and with a finger pointed to a dot on the chart to indicate that it could be nothing else. "i presume, tom," jack went on to say, "you came down when you did partly to catch that sound as we came near the shoals where the lightship stands guard day and night the whole year through." "well, i had that in mind," came the answer, "for, as i said before, while feeling pretty sure of my bearings i thought i'd like to have them verified. and now you can see i wasn't much out of the way." "you've done splendidly, tom," said beverly, clapping the other heartily on the back. "we've all carried ourselves like true americans through this whole affair; and it'll afford us considerable satisfaction when we look back on the wonderful trip." "and now, tom, hadn't we better turn toward the shore?" asked jack. "just as soon as we get over the lightship i will know how to steer, jack. keep cool, and before long you'll be looking down on our beloved virginia once again." "you make me mighty happy when you say that, tom. many times i've wondered if i'd ever see it again, we've been overseas so long and in so many perils while doing our duty. how fine it'll be to stand once more on the soil where both of us were born, and know we've done a pretty big thing in crossing the atlantic by the new air route!" they fell silent again after that, but not for long. louder and clearer came the frequent long-drawn wails of the steam fog-horn, until finally it seemed evident they were almost exactly above the lightship that, as tom knew, was anchored on the shoals to warn mariners of their danger by means of a far-reaching lamp and the powerful siren's hoarse voice. "now we'll strike in for the land!" called out tom, his announcement causing jack to thrill with delight, while beverly too showed his pleasure in broad smiles. soon afterwards they were speeding due west, with jack gluing his eyes to his glasses and reporting every few minutes fresh signs of vast importance. virginia soon lay beneath them, to announce that they had completed their wonderful flight across the atlantic. chapter xxiii the end of the flight no longer did the fog enfold them in its damp grasp. after leaving the immediate coast behind them the last trace of it disappeared. jack refused to take his entranced eyes from the binoculars for a single minute. he felt a hundred-fold repaid for all the perils encountered during the memorable flight from the shore of france, during which they had spanned the vast area of the atlantic, and were now sailing peacefully along above the home soil. lieutenant beverly made an announcement just then that startled them. "we must look for a place to drop down without any further loss of time!" he called out to tom, who was still serving as pilot. "but it would be mighty fine," jack observed wistfully, "if only we might keep going on until we got a few miles out of bridgeton. i know every rod of territory for miles around and could point out a dandy level field to make our landing in. we'd be able to descend without observation, too, i really believe." "that'd surely be nice, jack," beverly told him, "and i wish we could accommodate you. but the fact is we're about out of gas! i noted this a short time ago, but said nothing, because it would do no good to throw a scare into you both. besides, tom had already headed direct for the land at the time." "how lucky that didn't happen when we were a hundred miles out at sea!" tom exclaimed, his first thought being one of satisfaction, rather than useless complaint. this was characteristic of tom, always seeing the bright side of things, no matter how gloomy they appeared to others. "then i'd better be looking for a landing-place," jack quickly remarked, getting over his little disappointment. "and the sooner we duck the better," beverly admitted. "if the motors go back on us we'll be in a bad fix; and volplaning to the ground isn't always as easy as it's pictured, especially when you've no choice of a landing." "after all, it does not matter so very much," jack concluded. "surely once we succeed in gaining a footing we can discover a means for getting to our goal without much loss of time." he bent his energies toward looking for what would seem to be a promising open spot, where there would not be apt to be any pitfalls or traps waiting to wreck their plane, and possibly endanger their lives. "scrub woods all below us, tom!" he announced. "but there must be openings here and there," the pilot told him. "if only the field seems long enough to admit of our coming to a stop, we'd better take chances." "nothing yet, sorry to say," called out jack. "suppose you drop lower, tom," suggested beverly. "if we skirt the tops of the taller trees we'll be better able to see without depending on the glasses. all three of us can be on the lookout at the same time." tom considered that a good idea and he lost no time in carrying it out. it was easier now to take particular note of the ground; but they passed over mile after mile of the scrub without discovering what they most earnestly sought. "things are getting down to a fine point, tom," warned beverly. "our gas is on its last legs, and any minute now we'll find ourselves without motive power." "it must change soon," the pilot told them. "this scrub forest has got to give way to rising ground and open spaces." "but if it doesn't, what then?" asked jack. "i hate to think of crashing down into those trees," tom admitted. "we've just got to get over being too particular. several places we let pass us might have answered our purpose. look ahead, jack, and tell me if there doesn't seem to be some sort of open spot lying there." jack gave a whoop. "here we are!" he cried exultantly. "it's an opening in the scrub timber, a big gash too, for a fact! why, already i can see that it looks like a level green field. how queer it should be lying right there, as if it might be meant for us." "you don't glimpse any other chance further on, do you, jack?" continued the pilot. "never a thing, tom. just a continuation of those same old dwarf oak trees. but why do you ask that? what's the matter with this fine big gap?" "i'm afraid it's a marsh, and not a dry field!" tom answered. "but all the same i presume we'll have to chance it. better to strike a bog than to fall into those trees, where the lot of us might be killed." "suppose we circle around, and try to find the best place for a descent," proposed beverly. all of them strained their eyes to try to see better. unfortunately a cloud passed over the sun just then, rendering it difficult to make sure of anything. "what's the verdict?" sang out tom presently, keeping a wary eye on the straining motors. "looks to me as if that further part might be the highest ground," was jack's decision. "i agree with you there!" instantly echoed beverly. "that settles it! here goes to make the try," tom announced, again swinging in and shutting off all power. he continued to glide downward, approaching the ground at a certain point which he had picked but with his highly trained eye as apparently the best location for the landing. suspecting what might happen, tom held back until the very last, so that the big bombing plane was not going at much speed when its wheels came in contact with the ground for the first time. something happened speedily, for it proved to be a bog, and as the rubber-tired wheels sank in and could not be propelled, the natural result followed that the nose of the giant plane was buried in the soft ground, and they came to an abrupt stop. tom was the first to crawl forth, and beverly followed close upon his heels. the third member of the party did not seem as ready to report, which fact alarmed his chum. "jack, what's wrong with you?" he called out, starting to climb aboard the smashed plane again. "nothing so very much, i think; but i seem to be all twisted up in this broken gear, and can hardly move," came the answer. tom secretly hoped it was not a broken arm or leg instead. he started to feel around, and soon managed to get the other free from the broken ends of the wire stays that had somehow hindered his escape. together they crawled out, to find lieutenant beverly feeling himself all over as if trying to discover what the extent of his damages were. "try to see if you've been injured any way seriously, jack," begged his anxious chum, still unconvinced. an investigation disclosed the marvelous fact that all of them had managed to come through the smashing landing with but a small amount of damage. when this was ascertained without any doubt jack started to prance around, unable to contain himself within bounds. "excuse me if i act a little looney, fellows!" he begged. "fact is, i'm just keyed up to topnotch and something will give way unless i let off steam a bit." with that he yelled and laughed and cheered until his breath gave out. neither of the others felt any inclination to try to stop his antics. truth to tell, they were tempted to egg jack on, because he was really expressing in his own fashion something of the same exultation that all of them felt. the great flight had been carried through, and here they were landed on the soil of america, three young aviators who but a few days before had been serving their country on the fighting-front in northern france. yes, the atlantic had been successfully bridged by a heavier-than-air plane, and from the time of leaving france until this minute their feet had not once pressed any soil; for that ice-pack in mid-atlantic could not be counted against them, since it too was nothing but congealed water. "but the poor old bomber! it's ruined, colin, i'm afraid," jack finally managed to say, when he sank down from his exertions. "that's a small matter," beverly assured him. "the main thing is that we did what we set out to do, and proved that the dream of all real airmen could be made to come true. we may live to see a procession of monster boats of the air setting out for over-seas daily, carrying passengers, as well as mail and express matter." "yes," said tom gravely, and yet with a pardonable trace of pride in voice and manner, "the atlantic has been conquered, and saddled, and bridled, like any wild broncho of the plains. but hadn't we better be thinking of getting out of this soft marshy tract?" "as quickly as we possibly can," jack told him. "we'll try to run across some virginia farmer, black or white, who will have a horse and agree to take us to the nearest railroad station. once we hit civilization, the rest will be easy." "what about the plane, colin?" asked tom. "it can stay here for the time being," the other answered him. "later on i'll hire some one to have it hauled out and stored against my coming back--after we've been a while in berlin and got heine to behaving himself." they secured such things as it was desirable they should keep. acting on tom's advice everything that might testify to their identity was also removed, lest the bogged plane be accidentally discovered and betray them. afterwards they set out to find a way beyond the borders of the marsh and scrub oaks, to some place where possibly they might get assistance. chapter xxiv surprising bridgeton "here's the end of the marshy tract," tom said, after they had been floundering around for some little time. "how fine it feels to be on solid ground again," jack observed, stamping his feet as though he really enjoyed the sensation. indeed, after being for such a long time, weary hours after hours, confined in the big bombing plane, the relief was greatly appreciated by both tom raymond and lieutenant beverly, as well as by jack parmly. "now for the home town!" the last mentioned told his companions. "and as near as i can figure it out there's not a ghost of a chance that cousin randolph could have arrived before me." "for that matter i'm sure the french steamer must be still far out at sea, with a day or two's journey ahead of her," colin assured him. "then it's my game, provided we don't run across some u. s. army authorities who'd want to know our names and hold us for investigation, which would knock everything flat." "we're going to try to avoid all that bother," beverly assured him. "it isn't going to make us feel very proud of our achievement, since we have to hide our light under a bushel; but for one i don't regret it. no matter if we have to be punished for desertion, our motive was honorable; and they never will be able to deny us the credit of having made the longest flight on record in a heavier-than-air machine." "all the same," urged tom, "i'd rather keep quiet about that stunt, for the present at least. i want to go back and finish the work over there. if the huns are going to be driven to the rhine we ought to be doing our duty by uncle sam; which we couldn't if shut up in the government penitentiary at fort leavenworth, awaiting trial as deserters." "here's a plain trail that may lead us out of this region of scrub oaks, and to some farmer's place!" the lieutenant exclaimed just then; and in their eagerness to get in touch with some one who would take them to the railroad they talked no further concerning the great flight and its possible serious consequences to them. half an hour afterwards they came to the home of a farmer, who was trying to make a living out of his isolated holdings, eking it out, as he informed them while his wife was getting up the best meal possible, by doing some terrapin hunting, and even trapping muskrats and such fur-bearing animals during the otherwise unprofitable winter months. it was very comfortable to sit down once more to a table after being so long taking "snacks" at odd hours, and being cramped in the bombing plane. and as the farmer's wife had plenty of fresh eggs, which they told her not to stint, the generous omelet she produced was fully appreciated, flanked as it was by rashers of pretty fair bacon. there were also some freshly made soda biscuits which had a true old-fashioned southern taste, appreciated by tom and jack. lieutenant beverly did not show any great liking for them; but he was a northerner, brought up on baking-powder biscuits, so the others could understand his want of appreciation. taken all in all, they certainly enjoyed that first bite ashore after the completion of their memorable flight across the atlantic. jack, so tom said, seemed to think it was a sort of celebration because of the event, for his face was wreathed in a perpetual smile. "the sort of smile," jack retorted, "that won't come off." "oh, how good i do feel!" was a remark that if he made it once he did a dozen times, always finding it greeted by answering nods on the part of his two companions. of course they told the farmer they were aviators who had had the misfortune to drop into the marsh, where he would find their plane. beverly hired him to dismantle this in part, and store it away in his shed until later on it could be called for in person. he was not to deliver it to any person without the presence of one of the trio. when he started out to drive them in his old rickety vehicle to the nearest railroad station, miles distant, he was almost stricken dumb because beverly, in the fulness of his gratitude over their marvelous escape, thrust a full hundred dollars upon him, with a promise of a like amount later on for looking after the abandoned bombing plane. "to-day is marked with a white stone in the life of farmer jenkins, believe me," jack whispered aside to tom, as they saw the amazed look spreading over the man's weather-beaten face. "it's that with all of us," said tom soberly. jack fell silent after that. he was engrossed with thoughts connected with his unexpected return to the home of his childhood; and in imagination could see the excitement their unheralded appearance was certain to arouse. it had been arranged between them that their presence must be kept as much a secret as possible. on this account they would delay their arrival at the home of jack's mother until after darkness had set in. "to-morrow," jack had said, when these things were being discussed, "we'll telegraph to mr. smedley in richmond to come on without delay in connection with my dead uncle's estate, ready to settle it according to the provisions of his queer will. then we'll be ready for randolph when he bobs up." beverly had also made a suggestion when they were thus talking it all over, and arranging plans after their usual way. "now i've got a good friend who lives on staten island, right in new york harbor," he informed them. "often while at his house visiting i've amused myself with a glass watching steamers pass through the narrows lying between the shore of the island and that part of brooklyn opposite fort wadsworth. i'll wire him to let me know by the same means when _la bretagne_ reaches quarantine in the harbor." "a clever idea, colin!" tom cried. "in that way we can figure out just when jack's cousin might expect to arrive in bridgeton to claim the estate as being the first one on the ground, thanks to that silly provision of the old man's will." "given two hours to get off the vessel, after the time she reaches quarantine," jack figured, "and six more to get to richmond makes eight in all. then he might be two hours getting out to bridgeton, for trains are not very plentiful. he could make it in that time if he took a roadster with a chauffeur and came that way. ten hours in all." "we'll be lying in wait for randolph, all right!" laughed beverly. "and what a surprise it'll be! the man must think he's dreaming, having left you over in france, jack, on the fighting front when he sailed, with not one chance in a thousand that you could catch even the next boat, days later, and then finding you here ahead of him!" the prospect pleased them all so much that they made light of the merciless jostling received in that springless wagon over wretched virginia shore roads. in fact, they were so elated over the great success that had rewarded their daring venture that it seemed just then as if nothing could ever again make them feel blue, or depressed in spirits. in due time the lonely little station was reached. it was then two in the afternoon of that eventful day. just as tom anticipated, it turned out that there would not be a train in the direction they wished to go for two hours and more. this train would drop them at another station where a connection was made with the road that ran through bridgeton. it was lucky they found themselves in no hurry, thanks, as jack naively remarked, to their having come across "on the air-line limited." the time dragged to jack, naturally, but he felt he had no reason for complaint after such wonderful good fortune. at last their train came along. what if it was ten minutes late? that would only shorten their wait at the junction. "so long as we reach the old town by nine tonight i'll be satisfied," jack had bravely committed himself by saying; and indeed it was just about then they did jump from the steps of the car at bridgeton, for the second train had been two hours late. nevertheless all of them were united in thinking they had made a swift trip from the american sector of the fighting front in france to the town of bridgeton in the old dominion in just _four complete days_. jack led the way, though, of course, tom would have been just as competent a guide, since this was also his home town. how those blinking lights in the well-remembered windows of the parmly home held jack's eyes, once he sighted them! never before in all his life had he felt such a delicious thrill creep over him from head to toe. knocking on the door he and his chums carried out their pre-arranged plan. jack and tom were to keep back out of sight, leaving lieutenant beverly to break the glorious news first and prepare the family, so there might not be so loud an outcry as to arouse the neighbors and breed the excitement in the community that neither of the returned fighters wished. jack's aunt, who, a widow herself, made her home with her widowed sister-in-law, came to the door, for some reason or other. perhaps the negro servants still went home at night, as had been the case before jack went to the war. she looked surprised and anxious as soon as she saw that the caller was a stranger, and evidently an aviator from his dress. "this is mrs. parmly, i believe?" the visitor hastened to say. "mrs. job parmly. mrs. parmly's sister-in-law." "i see. mrs. parmly, my name is beverly, lieutenant beverly of the united states aerial corps, just over from france. i am a good friend of your nephew, jack, who has entrusted a message to me to deliver to his mother. may i come in for a short time, mrs. parmly?" he was immediately warmly greeted and drawn into the sitting-room where he met jack's mother. the two outside could peep under the drawn shade and watch all that went on, jack quivering with emotion as he looked on the beloved faces of his own people once again. beverly knew how eager the boy must be, and hence he lost little time in getting down to the main fact, which was that he wished them not to do anything to arouse curiosity in the neighborhood; but that jack was near by, and all would be soon explained; also that they must not be troubled thinking he, jack, had done anything really wrong. when he had drawn down the shades fully, that being the signal to those outside, jack could restrain himself no longer. opening the front door he rushed into the house and quickly had his mother and then his aunt in his arms. the story was told at length, with the family clustered around jack and tom, hanging on every word as though it were the most thrilling thing they had ever heard, which in truth it must be. then tom had to be considered. lieutenant beverly volunteered to go over to the raymond house, which could easily be pointed out to him, and bring back the startled family, so they could greet their boy, whom they, of course, supposed to be at that very moment still overseas, risking his life in his perilous calling. it seemed to tom that the delight of once more greeting these loved ones well repaid him for all he had passed through in making that wonderful flight. the story had to be all gone over again, and scores of questions answered. by degrees the scope of jack's plan was grasped by his family, who of course knew about the strange conditions of joshua kinkaid's will, whereby the bulk of his large estate, long before promised to the parmlys, would go without restrictions to either randolph carringford or jack parmly, according to which of them, after the death of the testator, appeared before a notary public specified in bridgeton, and qualified to assume the trust. so, too, the plan of campaign designed to confound the arch-schemer who had even plotted to keep jack from ever applying in person, was agreed to. the presence of the three was to be kept a dead secret. they would not go out of the house by daylight, even for a breath of air. in the morning the old family lawyer, who had also served mr. kinkaid in a similar capacity, would be sent for to come hurriedly. once he arrived, the stage would be set for carrying out the provisions of the queer will, which tom considered might hardly have stood the test of a contest in court, though later on the lawyer, mr. smedley, who had himself carefully drawn it up, assured him it was really an iron-bound document. "but," jack said, as they waited for the lawyer's coming on the noon train from richmond, "we can spare a couple of days here, and still make the steamer we hope to sail on for the other side. and it would be too bad if we missed seeing how dear cousin randolph takes his waterloo." mr. smedley arrived, and was astounded to see jack. he showed that his sympathies were on the side of the parmly family by his delight when shaking hands again and again. then the thrilling story was once more told, after he had been bound to secrecy. it would be hard to describe the emotions of the old lawyer as he sat and listened to what a great feat jack and his two comrades had carried through. after that all arrangements were made, and the lawyer decided to stay to see the thing through. it was the most astonishing event in all his life, he assured the company, and not for a fortune would he miss the scene that must accompany the coming of randolph carringford. mr. smedley also sent a long telegram to that friend of colin beverly's who lived on staten island. later that same day a reply was received promising to carry out faithfully the instructions given, if he had to sit up all night keeping watch on all vessels arriving, though if port rules were rigorously carried out no steamer would be allowed to enter or leave except by daylight. "but we know that isn't the case," tom said, "because those troop ships have left new york under cover of darkness many a time. still, the ships may have waited down the bay until morning, and then sailed." that day passed, and the following night. early on the morning of the third day after jack's arrival home came a telegram to mr. smedley. "now for news!" cried jack, as it was opened. the message was brief and to the point, affording them all the intelligence they required. "_la bretagne_ at quarantine eleven to-night; expected to dock in two hours!" chapter xxv to see the war through--conclusion "rap-rap-rap!" it was just at two that afternoon, and the train from richmond had arrived ten minutes previously. those within had seen a station hack deposit some one at the parmly gate. mrs. parmly herself answered the summons, the colored servants having been given an unexpected but welcome holiday when they appeared for work that same morning, in order to keep them from making discoveries. "good afternoon, aunt," said the smooth-tongued visitor, starting to enter without waiting for an invitation. "i learned after getting to richmond this morning that mr. smedley had come out to visit you; an occurrence which makes it convenient for me." when he entered the sitting-room he found only jack's aunt and the lawyer there, jack and tom and lieutenant beverly being in an adjoining room, but with the connecting door ajar, so they could catch every word spoken and enjoy the dramatic situation to the utmost, being ready to step in when the crisis arrived. carringford proceeded to shake hands with the lawyer, after greeting mrs. parmly effusively. there was a smile as of triumph on his sallow face. "glad to find you here in bridgeton, mr. smedley," randolph again said, his voice like oil and his manner confident and condescending. "i received the notification from you when over in france working in a secret capacity for the government." "yes," remarked the lawyer, "i sent both out as required." "must say," continued carringford, "i wasn't much surprised, because i always knew uncle joshua to be a queer old duck. realizing that unless i got a move on me and beat cousin jack home i'd stand to lose out in the game i managed to get passage on the _la bretagne_, of the french line. docked at one last night, couldn't get a train till morning; but here i am, sir, ready to convince you that, being the first on the ground, my claim is perfectly valid." he evidently expected that his coming would have produced something akin to consternation in the parmly family, and must have wondered how they could meet bitter disappointment with such smiling faces. "you have made very good time in crossing, randolph," remarked the lawyer calmly, "considering the tempestuous times, and need of caution on account of the u-boats. i should say that the french steamer surpassed her record." "and that being the case," resumed the other, smiling still as a winner at the races might do when handed his stake ten times multiplied, "since i'm here on the ground first, and you are the lawyer in the matter, what's to hinder our completing the formalities necessary to put me in possession of my great uncle's estate, according to his last will and testament?" "the only stumbling-block that i'm aware of, randolph," said mr. smedley suavely, "is a little matter of priority." "but i am the first to appear before you, mr. smedley, and there were but two contestants for the property. isn't that true?" demanded the newcomer, frowning at the thought that some unexpected legal tangle was about to appear. "you are perfectly right in one thing, randolph," continued the lawyer. "the race was to be between you and jack. i must say you have made very good time getting over here. but in spite of your speed, randolph, you are showing up somewhat late. in fact, the affair is all over, and i have started proceedings looking to conveying the property to the one undoubtedly presenting the prior claim." the other was thunderstruck. "impossible, i tell you, smedley!" he burst out. "with my own eyes i saw jack parmly over there at the front in france when i hurried to the port to embark on _la bretagne_. he was not aboard that ship, i can take my oath, and another couldn't arrive in new york for days. so you have no other resource but to admit my claim to be just, and hand over what belongs to me. i demand it, sir." "not so fast, randolph," begged the lawyer. "a little more moderation. you have made some sort of miscalculation i fear." with these words he stamped his foot. recognizing the signal, jack stepped blithely into the sitting-room, followed by tom and beverly. his appearance almost caused carringford to "have a fit," as jack afterwards described the effect of his coming on the scene. "what does this mystery mean?" he managed to gasp. "only that i took a notion to come home and claim that legacy left by our eccentric uncle joshua," jack told him, with a shrug of his shoulders, as though miracles were an every-day occurrence with him. "but i certainly saw you again and again, and heard you talk at the same time just before i left for havre to sail!" cried randolph, nevertheless convinced that at least this was the real flesh-and-blood jack parmly standing before him. "oh! did you?" remarked jack, mockingly. "perhaps it was a dream. perhaps i had an understudy over there. perhaps a whole lot of things. but the one positive fact about which there isn't any doubt is that i'm here ahead of you, and you've lost out in your game, that's all." "but--it's impossible, incredible!" continued the other, hardly able yet to believe his own eyes. "still, you must admit that i'm jack parmly, and quite in the flesh, which after all is enough to settle the matter," he was calmly told. "my family here have received me as their own; and mr. smedley had no trouble in recognizing me. so perhaps you'd better be packing your grip again, cousin randolph, and returning to your secret government duties over in france!" "but--how could you have reached here so far ahead of me?" gritted the disgusted randolph weakly. "please don't forget that i'm an aviator, and we fliers are able to put over all sorts of stunts these days," laughed jack; though his manner implied that he might be joking when saying this. at any rate, it could not enter the mind of any one to believe such a thing as flying across the atlantic within the bounds of reason. carringford of course saw that his room was more desired than his company. besides, he had not heart or desire to linger any longer, since he had received such a staggering blow. accordingly he took his departure, and acted quite like a "bear with a sore head," as jack described his ugly way of slamming the door and hurrying out to the station hack that had been all this while waiting for him at the gate. now that the one great object which jack had in view was accomplished, he and the other two began to consider the best way in which they could return to france without attracting too much attention. "i have a scheme that may work admirably," said beverly. "and it happens that the boat my good old friend is master of is due to sail from new york the day after to-morrow. we'll go on that as stowaways." then, seeing the look of astonishment and also bewilderment that came into the faces of his hearers, he went on to explain further. "of course i don't use that word in the usual sense of getting aboard unknown to any of the officers, perhaps through the complicity of a member of the crew, and hiding ourselves among the cargo. such stowaways are a scarcity nowadays, the peril of torpedoes having given them cold feet. but i believe i can fix it with my friend the captain so that he'll allow us to remain aboard without our names appearing on the passenger list." "sounds good to me," asserted jack, while tom said thoughtfully: "i suppose we could stick to our staterooms during the day, and only go on deck late at night, when nearly everybody was asleep. like as not, there'd be quite a number of army officers aboard, so we mightn't be noticed if any one ran against us while taking the air at night." accordingly this plan was settled upon; and as they were not absolutely certain about the time of sailing, with much still to be done before that event took place, once again did tom and jack have to bid their relatives good-bye. "it'll not be for so very long now, let's hope," said tom's father, as he squeezed his son's hand at parting; "for germany is on her last legs, and unless all signs fail the war must soon come to an end." "besides," added lieutenant beverly, "none of us is likely to try to repeat the little flight we just carried through. we feel as if we can rest on our well earned laurels." "and it'll be some time, i firmly believe," said mr. raymond, "before your wonderful feat is duplicated, or even approached." but then, of course, he could not foresee how even before the peace treaty had been signed a number of ambitious aviators would actually cross the atlantic, one crew in a huge heavier-than-air machine, another in an american seaplane, and still a third aboard a mighty dirigible, making the passages with but a day or so intervening between flights. when a certain steamship left new york harbor one morning soon afterwards three pairs of eyes took a parting look through a porthole in their united stateroom at the statue of liberty on bedloe's island. of course the occupants of the stateroom were tom and jack and colin. they had managed to interest the big-hearted captain in their scheme. he knew that he must not appear to be connected with such an escapade; but such was his admiration for their wonderful achievement, as well as his friendship for lieutenant beverly, that he readily consented to help them. "and so here we are," jack observed, after they had passed out from sandy hook and were heading across toward troubled europe, "going back to duty, before our leave of absence will have expired, and the three weeks already nearly half over. let's only hope we can slip into the traces as if nothing unusual had happened and that mad flight was only an aviator's day dream." "it's a pleasure, too," added tom reflectively, with a glance at his chum, "to know that there are loyal hearts waiting to greet us again over there where the shells are bursting. for of course nellie and bessie, not to mention harry leroy, will be counting the days anxiously until we show up. little do they suspect all we've been through; and we'll have to bind them to secrecy when taking them into the game." "h'm!" chuckled lieutenant beverly, "perhaps there's a little salvation army lassie i, myself, will be glad to see again. don't fancy you two have cornered the whole market of fine girls. there are others over there!" so we will leave them, only hoping that at some other day we may once more meet tom and jack and colin, and accompany them through other activities. [illustration: the flight folk.] the aeroplane speaks by h. barber, a.f.ae.s. (captain, royal flying corps) with full pages of "types of aeroplanes" and sketches and diagrams _fifth edition_ london mcbride, nast & co., ltd. the aeroplane speaks. _first edition--december, _ _second edition--february, _ _third edition--april, _ _fourth edition--july, _ _fifth edition--december, _ first reviews: =c. g. g. in the aeroplane:= "one hopes that the subaltern flying officer will appreciate the gift which the author has given him out of his own vast store of experience, for the book contains the concentrated knowledge of many expensive years in tabloid form, or perhaps one should say in condensed milk form, seeing that it is easy to swallow and agreeable to the taste, as well as wholesome and nourishing. and, besides the young service aviator, there are thousands of young men, and women also, now employed in the aircraft industry, who will appreciate far better the value of the finicky little jobs they are doing if they will read this book and see how vital is their work to the man who flies." =the field:= "entirely different from any other text-book on the subject, not merely in its form, but in its capacity to convey a knowledge of the principles and practice of flying. undoubtedly it is the best book on its subject." =the united service gazette:= "should be in the hands of every person interested in aviation." =the outlook:= "as amusing as it is instructive." =the morning post:= "should be read and re-read by the would be and even the experienced pilot." printed in england by billing and sons, limited guildford dedicated to the subaltern flying officer motive the reasons impelling me to write this book, the maiden effort of my pen, are, firstly, a strong desire to help the ordinary man to understand the aeroplane and the joys and troubles of its pilot; and, secondly, to produce something of _practical_ assistance to the pilot and his invaluable assistant the rigger. having had some eight years' experience in designing, building, and flying aeroplanes, i have hopes that the practical knowledge i have gained may offset the disadvantage of a hand more used to managing the "joy-stick" than the dreadful haltings, the many side-slips, the irregular speed, and, in short, the altogether disconcerting ways of a pen. the matter contained in the prologue appeared in the _field_ of may th, th, th, and th, , and is now reprinted by the kind permission of the editor, sir theodore cook. i have much pleasure in also acknowledging the kindness of mr. c. g. grey, editor of the _aeroplane_, to whom i am indebted for the valuable illustrations reproduced at the end of this book. contents _prologue_ page _part i.--the elementary principles air their grievances_ _ii.--the principles, having settled their differences, finish the job_ _iii.--the great test_ _iv.--cross country_ chapter i.--flight ii.--stability and control iii.--rigging iv.--propellers v.--maintenance types of aeroplanes glossary the aeroplane speaks prologue part i the elementary principles air their grievances the lecture hall at the royal flying corps school for officers was deserted. the pupils had dispersed, and the officer instructor, more fagged than any pupil, was out on the aerodrome watching the test of a new machine. deserted, did i say? but not so. the lecture that day had been upon the elementary principles of flight, and they lingered yet. upon the blackboard was an illustration thus: [illustration] "i am the side view of a surface," it said, mimicking the tones of the lecturer. "flight is secured by driving me through the air at an angle inclined to the direction of motion." "quite right," said the angle. "that's me, and i'm the famous angle of incidence." "and," continued the surface, "my action is to deflect the air downwards, and also, by fleeing from the air behind, to create a semi-vacuum or rarefied area over most of the top of my surface." "this is where i come in," a thick, gruff voice was heard, and went on: "i'm the reaction. you can't have action without me. i'm a very considerable force, and my direction is at right-angles to you," and he looked heavily at the surface. "like this," said he, picking up the chalk with his lift, and drifting to the blackboard. [illustration: the action of the surface upon the air.] "i act in the direction of the arrow r, that is, more or less, for the direction varies somewhat with the angle of incidence and the curvature of the surface; and, strange but true, i'm stronger on the top of the surface than at the bottom of it. the wind tunnel has proved that by exhaustive research--and don't forget how quickly i can grow! as the speed through the air increases my strength increases more rapidly than you might think--approximately, as the square of the speed; so you see that if the speed of the surface through the air is, for instance, doubled, then i am a good deal more than doubled. that's because i am the result of not only the mass of air displaced, but also the result of the speed and consequent force with which the surface engages the air. i am a product of those two factors, and at the speeds at which aeroplanes fly to-day, and at the altitudes and consequent density of air they at present experience, i increase at about the square of the speed. "oh, i'm a most complex and interesting personality, i assure you--in fact, a dual personality, a sort of aeronautical dr. jekyll and mr. hyde. there's lift, my vertical part or _component_, as those who prefer long words would say; he always acts vertically upwards, and hates gravity like poison. he's the useful and admirable part of me. then there's drift, my horizontal component, sometimes, though rather erroneously, called head resistance; he's a villain of the deepest dye, and must be overcome before flight can be secured." [illustration] "and i," said the propeller, "i screw through the air and produce the thrust. i thrust the aeroplane through the air and overcome the drift; and the lift increases with the speed, and when it equals the gravity or weight, then--there you are--flight! and nothing mysterious about it at all." "i hope you'll excuse me interrupting," said a very beautiful young lady, "my name is efficiency, and, while, no doubt, all you have said is quite true, and that, as my young man the designer says, 'you can make a tea-tray fly if you slap on power enough,' i can assure you that i'm not to be won quite so easily." "well," eagerly replied the lift and the thrust, "let's be friends. do tell us what we can do to help you to overcome gravity and drift with the least possible power. that obviously seems the game to play, for more power means heavier engines, and that in a way plays into the hands of our enemy, gravity, besides necessitating a larger surface or angle to lift the weight, and that increases the drift." "very well," from efficiency, "i'll do my best, though i'm so shy, and i've just had such a bad time at the factory, and i'm terribly afraid you'll find it awfully dry." [illustration] "buck up, old dear!" this from several new-comers, who had just appeared. "we'll help you," and one of them, so lean and long that he took up the whole height of the lecture room, introduced himself. "i'm the high aspect ratio," he said, "and what we have got to do to help this young lady is to improve the proportion of lift to drift. the more lift we can get for a certain area of surface, the greater the weight the latter can carry; and the less the drift, then the less thrust and power required to overcome it. now it is a fact that, if the surface is shaped to have the greatest possible span, _i.e._, distance from wing-tip to wing-tip, it then engages more air and produces both a maximum reaction and a better proportion of lift to drift. "that being so, we can then well afford to lose a little reaction by reducing the angle of incidence to a degree giving a still better proportion of lift to drift than would otherwise be the case; for you must understand that the lift-drift ratio depends very much upon the size of the angle of incidence, which should be as small as possible within certain limits. so what i say is, make the surface of infinite span with no width or _chord_, as they call it. that's all i require, i assure you, to make me quite perfect and of infinite service to miss efficiency." [illustration] "that's not practical politics," said the surface. "the way you talk one would think you were drawing £ a year at westminster, and working up a reputation as an aeronautical expert. i must have some depth and chord to take my spars and ribs, and again, i must have a certain chord to make it possible for my camber (that's curvature) to be just right for the angle of incidence. if that's not right the air won't get a nice uniform compression and downward acceleration from my underside, and the rarefied 'suction' area over the top of me will not be as even and clean in effect as it might be. that would spoil the lift-drift ratio more than you can help it. just thrust that chalk along, will you? and the blackboard will show you what i mean." "well," said the aspect ratio, "have it your own way, though i'm sorry to see a pretty young lady like efficiency compromised so early in the game." "look here," exclaimed a number of struts, "we have got a brilliant idea for improving the aspect ratio," and with that they hopped up on to the spars. "now," excitedly, "place another surface on top of us. now do you see? there is double the surface, and that being so, the proportion of weight to surface area is halved. that's less burden of work for the surface, and so the spars need not be so strong and so deep, which results in not so thick a surface. that means the chord can be proportionately decreased without adversely affecting the camber. with the chord decreased, the span becomes relatively greater, and so produces a splendid aspect ratio, and an excellent proportion of lift to drift." "i don't deny that they have rather got me there," said the drift; "but all the same, don't forget my increase due to the drift of the struts and their bracing wires." "yes; i dare say," replied the surface, "but remember that my spars are less deep than before, and consequently i am not so thick now, and shall for that reason also be able to go through the air with a less proportion of drift to lift." "remember me also, please," croaked the angle of incidence. "since the surface has now less weight to carry for its area, i may be set at a still lesser and finer angle. that means less drift again. we are certainly getting on splendidly! show us how it looks now, blackboard." and the blackboard obligingly showed them as follows: [illustration] "well, what do you think of that?" they all cried to the drift. "you think you are very clever," sneered the drift. "but you are not helping efficiency as much as you think. the suction effect on the top of the lower surface will give a downward motion to the air above it and the result will be that the bottom of the top surface will not secure as good a reaction from the air as would otherwise be the case, and that means loss of lift; and you can't help matters by increasing the gap between the surfaces because that means longer struts and wires, and that in itself would help me, not to speak of increasing the weight. you see it's not quite so easy as you thought." at this moment a hiccough was heard, and a rather fast and rakish-looking chap, named stagger, spoke up. "how d'ye do, miss," he said politely to efficiency, with a side glance out of his wicked old eye. "i'm a bit of a knut, and without the slightest trouble i can easily minimize the disadvantage that old reprobate drift has been frightening you with. i just stagger the top surface a bit forward, and no longer is that suction effect dead under it. at the same time i'm sure the top surface will kindly extend its span for such distance as its spars will support it without the aid of struts. such extension will be quite useful, as there will be no surface at all underneath it to interfere with the reaction above." and the stagger leaned forward and picked up the chalk, and this is the picture he drew: [illustration] said the blackboard, "that's not half bad! it really begins to look something like the real thing, eh?" "the real thing, is it?" grumbled drift. "just consider that contraption in the light of any one principle, and i warrant you will not find one of them applied to perfection. the whole thing is nothing but a compromise." and he glared fixedly at poor efficiency. "oh, dear! oh, dear!" she cried. "i'm always getting into trouble. what _will_ the designer say?" "never mind, my dear," said the lift-drift ratio, consolingly. "you are improving rapidly, and quite useful enough now to think of doing a job of work." "well, that's good news," and efficiency wiped her eyes with her fabric and became almost cheerful. "suppose we think about finishing it now? there will have to be an engine and propeller, won't there? and a body to fix them in, and tanks for oil and petrol, and a tail, and," archly, "one of those dashing young pilots, what?" "well, we are getting within sight of those interesting factors," said the lift-drift ratio, "but first of all we had better decide upon the area of the surfaces, their angle of incidence and camber. if we are to ascend as quickly as possible the aeroplane must be _slow_ in order to secure the best possible lift-drift ratio; for the drift of the struts, wires, body, etc., increases approximately as the square of the speed, but it carries with it no lift as it does in the case of the surface. the less speed then, the less such drift, and the better the aeroplane's proportion of lift to drift; and, being slow, we shall require a _large surface_ in order to secure a large lift relative to the weight to be carried. we shall also require a _large angle of incidence_ relative to the horizontal, in order to secure a proper inclination of the surface to the direction of motion, for you must remember that, while we shall fly upon an even keel and with the propeller thrust horizontal (which is its most efficient attitude), our flight path, which is our direction of motion, will be sloping upwards, and it will therefore be necessary to fix the surface to the aeroplane at a very considerable angle relative to the horizontal propeller thrust in order to secure a proper angle to the upwards direction of motion. apart from that, we shall require a larger angle of incidence than in the case of a machine designed purely for speed, and that means a correspondingly _large camber_. "on the other hand, if we are thinking merely of speed, then a _small surface_, just enough to lift the weight off the ground, will be best; also a _small angle_ to cut the drift down, and that, of course, means a relatively _small camber_. "so you see the essentials for _climb_ or quick ascent and for _speed_ are diametrically opposed. now which is it to be?" "nothing but perfection for me," said efficiency. "what i want is maximum climb and maximum speed for the power the engine produces." and each principle fully agreed with her beautiful sentiments, but work together they would not. the aspect ratio wanted infinite span, and hang the chord. [illustration: maximum climb. maximum speed.] the angle of incidence would have two angles and two cambers in one, which was manifestly absurd; the surface insisted upon no thickness whatever, and would not hear of such things as spars and ribs; and the thrust objected to anything at all likely to produce drift, and very nearly wiped the whole thing off the blackboard. there was, indeed, the makings of a very pretty quarrel when the letter arrived. it was about a mile long, and began to talk at once. "i'm from the inventor," he said, and hope rose in the heart of each heated principle. "it's really absurdly simple. all the pilot has to do is to touch a button, and at his will, vary the area of the surface, the angle of incidence, and the camber! and there you are--maximum climb or maximum speed as required! how does that suit you?" "that suits us very well," said the surface, "but, excuse me asking, how is it done without apparatus increasing the drift and the weight out of all reason? you won't mind showing us your calculations, working drawings, stress diagrams, etc., will you?" said the letter with dignity, "i come from an inventor so brilliantly clever as to be far above the unimportant matters you mention. he is no common working man, sir! he leaves such things to mechanics. the point is, you press a button and----" "look here," said a strut, rather pointedly, "where do you think you are going, anyway?" "well," from the letter, "as a matter of fact, i'm not addressed yet, but, of course, there's no doubt i shall reach the very highest quarters and absolutely revolutionize flight when i get there." said the chalk, "i'll address you, if that's all you want; now drift along quickly!" and off went the letter to the technical editor, "daily mauler," london. and a league was formed, and there were directors with fees, and several out-of-service tin hats, and the man-who-takes-the-credit, and a fine fat guinea-pig, and all the rest of them. and the inventor paid his tailor and had a hair-cut, and is now a recognized _press_ expert--but he is still waiting for those mechanics! "i'm afraid," said the slide-rule, who had been busy making those lightning-like automatic calculations for which he is so famous, "it's quite impossible to fully satisfy all of you, and it is perfectly plain to me that we shall have to effect a compromise and sacrifice some of the lift for speed." thud! what was that? efficiency had fainted dead away! the last blow had been too much for her. and the principles gathered mournfully round, but with the aid of the propeller slip[ ] and a friendly lift from the surface she was at length revived and regained a more normal aspect. said the stagger with a raffish air, "my dear young lady, i assure you that from the experiences of a varied career, i have learned that perfection is impossible, and i am sure the designer will be quite satisfied if you become the most efficient compromise." "well, that sounds so common sense," sighed efficiency, "i suppose it must be true, and if the designer is satisfied, that's all i really care about. now do let's get on with the job." [illustration] so the chalk drew a nice long slim body to hold the engine and the tanks, etc., with room for the pilot's and passenger's seats, and placed it exactly in the middle of the biplane. and he was careful to make its position such that the centre of gravity was a little in advance of the centre of lift, so that when the engine was not running and there was consequently no thrust, the aeroplane should be "nose-heavy" just to the right degree, and so take up a natural glide to earth--and this was to help the pilot and relieve him of work and worry, should he find himself in a fog or a cloud. and so that this tendency to glide downwards should not be in evidence when the engine was running and descent not desired, the thrust was placed a little below the centre of drift or resistance. in this way it would in a measure pull the nose of the aeroplane up and counter-balance the "nose-heavy" tendency. and the engine was so mounted that when the propeller-thrust was horizontal, which is its most efficient position, the angle of incidence and the area of the surfaces were just sufficient to give a lift a little in excess of the weight. and the camber was such that, as far as it was concerned, the lift-drift ratio should be the best possible for that angle of incidence. and a beautifully simple under-carriage was added, the outstanding features of which were simplicity, strength, light-weight, and minimum drift. and, last of all, there was the elevator, of which you will hear more by-and-by. and this is what it looked like then: [illustration] and efficiency, smiling, thought that it was not such a bad compromise after all, and that the designer might well be satisfied. "now," said she, "there's just one or two points i'm a bit hazy about. it appears that when the propeller shaft is horizontal and so working in its most efficient attitude, i shall have a lift from the surfaces slightly in excess of the weight. that means i shall ascend slightly, at the same time making nearly maximum speed for the power and thrust. can't i do better than that?" "yes, indeed," spoke up the propeller, "though it means that i must assume a most undignified attitude, for helicopters[ ] i never approved of. in order to ascend more quickly the pilot will deflect the elevator, which, by the way, you see hinged to the tail. by that means he will force the whole aeroplane to assume a greater angle of incidence. and with greater angle, the lift will increase, though i'm sorry to say the drift will increase also. owing to the greater drift, the speed through the air will lessen, and i'm afraid that won't be helpful to the lift; but i shall now be pointing upwards, and besides overcoming the drift in a forward direction, i shall be doing my best to haul the aeroplane skywards. at a certain angle known as the best climbing angle, we shall have our maximum margin of lift, and i'm hoping that may be as much as almost a thousand feet altitude a minute." [illustration: the angles shown above are only roughly approximate, as they vary with different types of aeroplanes.] "then, if the pilot is green, my chance will come," said the maximum angle of incidence. "for if the angle is increased over the best climbing angle, the drift will rush up; and the speed, and with it the lift, will, when my angle is reached, drop to a point when the latter will be no more than the weight. the margin of lift will have entirely disappeared, and there we shall be, staggering along at my tremendous angle, and only just maintaining horizontal flight." "and then with luck i'll get my chance," said the drift. "if he is a bit worse than green, he'll perhaps still further increase the angle. then the drift, largely increasing, the speed, and consequently the lift, will become still less, _i.e._, less than the weight, and then--what price pancakes.[ ] eh?" "thank you," from efficiency, "that was all most informing. and now will you tell me, please, how the greatest speed may be secured?" "certainly, now it's my turn," piped the minimum angle of incidence. "by means of the elevator, the pilot places the aeroplane at my small angle, at which the lift only just equals the weight, and, also, at which we shall make greater speed with no more drift than before. then we get our greatest speed, just maintaining horizontal flight." "yes; though i'm out of the horizontal and thrusting downwards," grumbled the propeller, "and that's not efficient, though i suppose it's the best we can do until that inventor fellow finds his mechanics." "thank you so much," said efficiency. "i think i have now at any rate an idea of the elementary principles of flight, and i don't know that i care to delve much deeper, for sums always give me a headache; but isn't there something about stability and control? don't you think i ought to have a glimmering of them too?" "well, i should smile," said a spruce spar, who had come all the way from america. "and that, as the lecturer says, 'will be the subject of our next lecture,' so be here again to-morrow, and you will be glad to hear that it will be distinctly more lively than the subject we have covered to-day." [footnote : propeller slip: as the propeller screws through the air, the latter to a certain extent gives back to the thrust of the propeller blades, just as the shingle on the beach slips back as you ascend it. such "give-back" is known as "slip," and anyone behind the propeller will feel the slip as a strong draught of air.] [footnote : helicopter: an air-screw revolving upon a vertical axis. if driven with sufficient power, it will lift vertically, but, having regard to the mechanical difficulties of such construction, it is a most inefficient way of securing lift compared with the arrangement of an inclined surface driven by a propeller revolving about a horizontal axis.] [footnote : pancakes: pilot's slang for stalling an aeroplane and dropping like a pancake.] part ii the principles, having settled their differences, finish the job another day had passed, and the flight folk had again gathered together and were awaiting the arrival of efficiency who, as usual, was rather late in making an appearance. the crowd was larger than ever, and among the newcomers some of the most important were the three stabilities, named directional, longitudinal, and lateral, with their assistants, the rudder, elevator, and ailerons. there was centrifugal force, too, who would not sit still and created a most unfavourable impression, and keel-surface, the dihedral angle, and several other lesser fry. "well," said centrifugal force, "i wish this efficiency i've heard so much about would get a move on. sitting still doesn't agree with me at all. motion i believe in. there's nothing like motion--the more the better." "we are entirely opposed to that," objected the three stabilities, all in a breath. "unless it's in a perfectly straight line or a perfect circle. nothing but perfectly straight lines or, upon occasion, perfect circles satisfy us, and we are strongly suspicious of your tendencies." "well, we shall see what we shall see," said the force darkly. "but who in the name of blue sky is this?" and in tripped efficiency, in a beautifully "doped" dress of the latest fashionable shade of khaki-coloured fabric, a perfectly stream-lined bonnet, and a bewitching little morane parasol,[ ] smiling as usual, and airily exclaiming, "i'm so sorry i'm late, but you see the designer's such a funny man. he objects to skin friction,[ ] and insisted upon me changing my fabric for one of a smoother surface, and that delayed me. dear me, there are a lot more of us to-day, aren't there? i think i had better meet one at a time." and turning to directional stability, she politely asked him what he preferred to do. "my purpose in life, miss," said he, "is to keep the aeroplane on its course, and to achieve that there must be, in effect, more keel-surface behind the vertical turning axis than there is in front of it." [illustration] efficiency looking a little puzzled, he added: "just like a weathercock, and by keel-surface i mean everything you can see when you view the aeroplane from the side of it--the sides of the body, struts, wires, etc." "oh, now i begin to see light," said she; "but just exactly how does it work?" "i'll answer that," said momentum. "when perhaps by a gust of air the aeroplane is blown out of its course and points in another direction, it doesn't immediately fly off on that new course. i'm so strong i pull it off the new course to a certain extent, and towards the direction of the old course. and so it travels, as long as my strength lasts, in a more or less sideways position." "then," said the keel-surface, "i get a pressure of air all on one side, and as there is, in effect, most of me towards the tail, the latter gets pressed sideways, and the aeroplane thus tends to assume its first position and course." "i see," said efficiency, and, daintily holding the chalk, she approached the blackboard. "is this what you mean?" "yes, that's right enough," said the keel-surface, "and you might remember, too, that i always make the aeroplane nose into the gusts rather than away from them." "if that was not the case," broke in lateral stability, and affecting the fashionable flying corps stammer, "it would be a h-h-h-o-r-rible affair! if there were too much keel-surface in front, then that gust would blow the aeroplane round the other way a very considerable distance. and the right-hand surface being on the outside of the turn would have more speed, and consequently more lift, than the surface on the other side. that means a greater proportion of the lift on that side, and before you could say warp to the ailerons over the aeroplane would go--probable result a bad side-slip" (see illustration a, over-leaf). "and what can the pilot do to save such a situation as that?" said efficiency. "well," replied lateral stability, "he will try to turn the aeroplane sideways and back to an even keel by means of warping the ailerons or little wings which are hinged on to the wing-tips, and about which you will hear more later on; but if the side-slip is very bad he may not be able to right the aeroplane by means of the ailerons, and then the only thing for him to do is to use the rudder and to turn the nose of the aeroplane down and head-on to the direction of motion. the aeroplane will then be meeting the air in the direction it is designed to do so, and the surfaces and also the controls (the rudder, ailerons, and elevator) will be working efficiently; but its attitude relative to the earth will probably be more or less upside-down, for the action of turning the aeroplane's nose down results, as you will see by the illustration b, in the right wing, which is on the outside of the circle, travelling through the air with greater speed than the left-hand wing. more speed means more lift, so that results in overturning the aeroplane still more; but now it is, at any rate, meeting the air as it is designed to meet it, and everything is working properly. it is then only necessary to warp the elevator, as shown in illustration c, in order to bring the aeroplane into a proper attitude relative to the earth." [illustration] "ah!" said the rudder, looking wise, "it's in a case like that when i become the elevator and the elevator becomes me." "that's absurd nonsense," said the blackboard, "due to looseness of thought and expression." "well," replied the rudder, "when the aeroplane is in position a and i am used, then i depress or _elevate_ the nose of the machine; and, if the elevator is used, then it turns the aeroplane to right or left, which is normally my function. surely our _rôles_ have changed one with the other, and i'm then the elevator and the elevator is me!" [illustration] said lateral stability to the rudder, "that's altogether the wrong way of looking at it, though i admit"--and this rather sarcastically--"that the way you put it sounds rather fine when you are talking of your experiences in the air to those 'interested in aviation' but knowing little about it; but it won't go down here! you are a controlling surface designed to turn the aeroplane about a certain axis of the machine, and the elevator is a controlling surface designed to turn the aeroplane about another axis. those are your respective jobs, and you can't possibly change them about. such talk only leads to confusion, and i hope we shall hear no more of it." "thanks," said efficiency to lateral stability. "and now, please, will you explain your duties?" "my duty is to keep the aeroplane horizontal from wing-tip to wing-tip. first of all, i sometimes arrange with the rigger to _wash-out_, that is decrease, the angle of incidence on one side of the aeroplane, and to effect the reverse condition, if it is not too much trouble, on the other side." "but," objected efficiency, "the lift varies with the angle of incidence, and surely such a condition will result in one side of the aeroplane lifting more than the other side?" "that's all right," said the propeller, "it's meant to off-set the tendency of the aeroplane to turn over sideways in the opposite direction to which i revolve." "that's quite clear, though rather unexpected; but how do you counteract the effect of the gusts when they try to overturn the aeroplane sideways?" said she, turning to lateral stability again. "well," he replied, rather miserably, "i'm not nearly so perfect as the longitudinal and directional stabilities. the dihedral angle--that is, the upward inclination of the surfaces towards their wing-tips--does what it can for me, but, in my opinion, it's a more or less futile effort. the blackboard will show you the argument." and he at once showed them two surfaces, each set at a dihedral angle like this: [illustration: h.e., horizontal equivalent.] "please imagine," said the blackboard, "that the top =v= is the front view of a surface flying towards you. now if a gust blows it into the position of the lower =v= you see that the horizontal equivalent of the surface on one side becomes larger, and on the other side it becomes smaller. that results in more lift on the lower side and less on the higher side, and if the =v= is large enough it should produce such a difference in the lift of one side to the other as to quickly turn the aeroplane back to its former and normal position." "yes," said the dihedral angle, "that's what would happen if they would only make me large enough; but they won't do it because it would too greatly decrease the total horizontal equivalent, and therefore the lift, and incidentally it would, as aeroplanes are built to-day, produce an excess of keel surface above the turning axis, and that in itself would spoil the lateral stability. the keel surface should be equally divided above and below the longitudinal turning axis (upon which the aeroplane rolls sideways), or the side upon which there is an excess will get blown over by the gusts. it strikes me that my future isn't very promising, and about my only chance is when the junior draughtsman makes a mistake, as he did the other day. and just think of it, they call him a designer now that he's got a job at the factory! what did he do? why, he calculated the weights wrong and got the centre of gravity too high, and they didn't discover it until the machine was built. then all they could do was to give me a larger angle. that dropped the bottom of the =v= lower down, and as that's the centre of the machine, where all the weight is, of course that put the centre of gravity in its right place. but now there is too much keel surface above, and the whole thing's a bad compromise, not at all like our efficiency." and efficiency, blushing very prettily at the compliment, then asked, "and how does the centre of gravity affect matters?" "that's easy," said grandfather gravity. "i'm so heavy that if i am too low down i act like a pendulum and cause the aeroplane to roll about sideways, and if i am too high i'm like a stick balanced on your finger, and then if i'm disturbed, over i go and the aeroplane with me; and, in addition to that, there are the tricks i play with the aeroplane when it's banked up,[ ] _i.e._, tilted sideways for a turn, and centrifugal force sets me going the way i'm not wanted to go. no; i get on best with lateral stability when my centre is right on the centre of drift, or, at any rate, not much below it." and with that he settled back into the lecturer's chair and went sound asleep again, for he was so very, very old, in fact the father of all the principles. and the blackboard had been busy, and now showed them a picture of the aeroplane as far as they knew it, and you will see that there is a slight dihedral angle, and also, fixed to the tail, a vertical keel surface or _fin_, as is very often the case in order to ensure the greater effect of such surface being behind the vertical turning axis. [illustration] but efficiency, growing rather critical with her newly gained knowledge, cried out: "but where's the horizontal tail surface? it doesn't look right like that!" "this is when i have the pleasure of meeting you, my dear," said longitudinal stability. "here's the tail surface," he said, "and in order to help me it must be set _in effect_ at a much less angle of incidence than the main surface. to explain we must trouble the blackboard again," and this was his effort: [illustration] "i have tried to make that as clear as possible," he said. "it may appear a bit complicated at first, but if you will take the trouble to look at it for a minute you will find it quite simple. a is the normal and proper direction of motion of the aeroplane, but, owing to a gust of air, it takes up the new nose-down position. owing to momentum, however, it does not fly straight along in that direction, but moves more or less in the direction b, which is the resultant of the two forces, momentum and thrust. and so you will note that the angle of incidence, which is the inclination of the surfaces to the direction of motion, has decreased, and of course the lift decreases with it. you will also see, and this is the point, that the tail surface has lost a higher proportion of its angle, and consequently its lift, than has the main surface. then, such being the case, the tail must fall and the aeroplane assume its normal position again, though probably at a slightly lower altitude." "i'm afraid i'm very stupid," said efficiency, "but please tell me why you lay stress upon the words '_in effect_.'" "ah! i was wondering if you would spot that," he replied. "and there is a very good reason for it. you see, in some aeroplanes the tail surface may be actually set at the same angle on the machine as the main surface, but owing to the air being deflected downwards by the front main surface it meets the tail surface at a lesser angle, and indeed in some cases at no angle at all. the tail is then for its surface getting less lift than the main surface, although set at the same angle on the machine. it may then be said to have _in effect_ a less angle of incidence. i'll just show you on the blackboard." [illustration] "and now," said efficiency, "i have only to meet the ailerons and the rudder, haven't i?" "here we are," replied the ailerons, or little wings. "please hinge us on to the back of the main surfaces, one of us at each wing-tip, and join us up to the pilot's joystick by means of the control cables. when the pilot wishes to tilt the aeroplane sideways, he will move the stick and depress us upon one side, thus giving us a larger angle of incidence and so creating more lift on that side of the aeroplane; and, by means of a cable connecting us with the ailerons on the other side of the aeroplane, we shall, as we are depressed, pull them up and give them a reverse or negative angle of incidence, and that side will then get a reverse lift or downward thrust, and so we are able to tilt the aeroplane sideways. "and we work best when the angle of incidence of the surface in front of us is very small, for which reason it is sometimes decreased or _washed-out_ towards the wing-tips. the reason of that is that by the time the air reaches us it has been deflected downwards--the greater the angle of incidence the more it is driven downwards--and in order for us to secure a reaction from it, we have to take such a large angle of incidence that we produce a poor proportion of lift to drift; but the smaller the angle of the surface in front of us the less the air is deflected downwards, and consequently the less angle is required of us, and the better our proportion of lift to drift, which, of course, makes us much more effective controls." [illustration: "wash out" on both sides.] "yes," said the lateral and directional stabilities in one voice, "that's so, and the wash-out helps us also, for then the surfaces towards their wing-tips have less drift or 'head-resistance,' and consequently the gusts will affect them and us less; but such decreased angle of incidence means decreased lift as well as drift, and the designer does not always care to pay the price." "well," said the ailerons, "if it's not done it will mean more work for the rudder, and that won't please the pilot." "whatever do you mean?" asked efficiency. "what can the rudder have to do with you?" "it's like this," they replied: "when we are deflected downwards we gain a larger angle of incidence and also enter an area of compressed air, and so produce more drift than those of us on the other side of the aeroplane, which are deflected upwards into an area of rarefied air due to the _suction_ effect (though that term is not academically correct) on the top of the surface. if there is more drift, _i.e._, resistance, on one side of the aeroplane than on the other side, then of course it will turn off its course, and if that difference in drift is serious, as it will very likely be if there is no wash-out, then it will mean a good deal of work for the rudder in keeping the aeroplane on its course, besides creating extra drift in doing so." "i think, then," said efficiency, "i should prefer to have that wash-out,[ ] and my friend the designer is so clever at producing strength of construction for light weight, i'm pretty sure he won't mind paying the price in lift. and now let me see if i can sketch the completed aeroplane." [illustration] "well, i hope that's all as it should be," she concluded, "for to-morrow the great test in the air is due." [footnote : morane parasol: a type of morane monoplane in which the lifting surfaces are raised above the pilot in order to afford him a good view of the earth.] [footnote : skin friction is that part of the drift due to the friction of the air with roughness upon the surface of the aeroplane.] [footnote : banking: when an aeroplane is turned to the left or the right the centrifugal force of its momentum causes it to skid sideways and outwards away from the centre of the turn. to minimize such action the pilot banks, _i.e._, tilts, the aeroplane sideways in order to oppose the underside of the planes to the air. the aeroplane will not then skid outwards beyond the slight skid necessary to secure a sufficient pressure of air to balance the centrifugal force.] [footnote : an explanation of the way in which the wash-out is combined with a wash-in to offset propeller torque will be found on p. .] part iii the great test it is five o'clock of a fine calm morning, when the aeroplane is wheeled out of its shed on to the greensward of the military aerodrome. there is every promise of a good flying day, and, although the sun has not yet risen, it is light enough to discern the motionless layer of fleecy clouds some five thousand feet high, and far, far above that a few filmy mottled streaks of vapour. just the kind of morning beloved of pilots. a brand new, rakish, up-to-date machine it is, of highly polished, beautifully finished wood, fabric as tight as a drum, polished metal, and every part so perfectly "stream-lined" to minimize drift, which is the resistance of the air to the passage of the machine, that to the veriest tyro the remark of the pilot is obviously justified. "clean looking 'bus, looks almost alive and impatient to be off. ought to have a turn for speed with those lines." "yes," replies the flight-commander, "it's the latest of its type and looks a beauty. give it a good test. a special report is required on this machine." the a.m.'s[ ] have now placed the aeroplane in position facing the gentle air that is just beginning to make itself evident; the engine fitter, having made sure of a sufficiency of oil and petrol in the tanks, is standing by the propeller; the rigger, satisfied with a job well done, is critically "vetting" the machine by eye; four a.m.'s are at their posts, ready to hold the aeroplane from jumping the blocks which have been placed in front of the wheels; and the flight-sergeant is awaiting the pilot's orders. as the pilot approaches the aeroplane the rigger springs to attention and reports, "all correct, sir," but the fitter does not this morning report the condition of the engine, for well he knows that this pilot always personally looks after the preliminary engine test. the latter, in leathern kit, warm flying boots and goggled, climbs into his seat, and now, even more than before, has the aeroplane an almost living appearance, as if straining to be off and away. first he moves the controls to see that everything is clear, for sometimes when the aeroplane is on the ground the control lever or "joy-stick" is lashed fast to prevent the wind from blowing the controlling surfaces about and possibly damaging them. the air of this early dawn is distinctly chilly, and the a.m.'s are beginning to stamp their cold feet upon the dewy grass, but very careful and circumspect is the pilot, as he mutters to himself, "don't worry and flurry, or you'll die in a hurry." at last he fumbles for his safety belt, but with a start remembers the pitot air speed indicator, and, adjusting it to zero, smiles as he hears the pitot-head's gruff voice, "well, i should think so, twenty miles an hour i was registering. that's likely to cause a green pilot to stall the aeroplane. pancake, they call it." and the pilot, who is an old hand and has learned a lot of things in the air that mere earth-dwellers know nothing about, distinctly heard the pitot tube, whose mouth is open to the air to receive its pressure, stammer, "oh lor! i've got an earwig already--hope to goodness the rigger blows me out when i come down--and this morning air simply fills me with moisture; i'll never keep the liquid steady in the gauge. i'm not sure of my rubber connections either." "oh, shut up!" cry all the wires in unison, "haven't we got our troubles too? we're in the most horrible state of tension. it's simply murdering our factor of safety, and how we can possibly stand it when we get the lift only the designer knows." "that's all right," squeak all the little wire loops, "we're that accommodating, we're sure to elongate a bit and so relieve your tension." for the whole aeroplane is braced together with innumerable wires, many of which are at their ends bent over in the form of loops in order to connect with the metal fittings on the spars and elsewhere--a cheap and easy way of making connection. "elongate, you little devils, would you?" fairly shout the angles of incidence, dihedral and stagger, amid a chorus of groans from all parts of the aeroplane. "what's going to happen to us then? how are we going to keep our adjustments upon which good flying depends?" "butt us and screw us,"[ ] wail the wires. "butt us and screw us, and death to the loops. that's what we sang to the designer, but he only looked sad and scowled at the directors." "and who on earth are they?" asked the loops, trembling for their troublesome little lives. "on earth indeed," sniffed efficiency, who had not spoken before, having been rendered rather shy by being badly compromised in the drawing office. "i'd like to get some of them up between heaven and earth, i would. i'd give 'em something to think of besides their debits and credits--but all the same the designer will get his way in the end. i'm his best girl, you know, and if we could only get rid of the directors, the little tin god, and the man-who-takes-the-credit, we should be quite happy." then she abruptly subsides, feeling that perhaps the less said the better until she has made a reputation in the air. the matter of that compromise still rankled, and indeed it does seem hardly fit that a bold bad tin god should flirt with efficiency. you see there was a little tin god, and he said "boom, boom, boom! nonsense! it must be done," and things like that in a very loud voice, and the designer tore his hair and was furious, but the directors, who were thinking of nothing but orders and dividends, had the whip-hand of _him_, and so there you are, and so poor beautiful miss efficiency was compromised. all this time the pilot is carefully buckling his belt and making himself perfectly easy and comfortable, as all good pilots do. as he straightens himself up from a careful inspection of the deviation curve[ ] of the compass and takes command of the controls, the throttle and the ignition, the voices grow fainter and fainter until there is nothing but a trembling of the lift and drift wires to indicate to his understanding eye their state of tension in expectancy of the great test. "petrol on?" shouts the fitter to the pilot. "petrol on," replies the pilot. "ignition off?" "ignition off." round goes the propeller, the engine sucking in the petrol vapour with satisfied gulps. and then-- "contact?" from the fitter. "contact," says the pilot. now one swing of the propeller by the fitter, and the engine is awake and working. slowly at first though, and in a weak voice demanding, "not too much throttle, please. i'm very cold and mustn't run fast until my oil has thinned and is circulating freely. three minutes slowly, as you love me, pilot." faster and faster turn the engine and propeller, and the aeroplane, trembling in all its parts, strains to jump the blocks and be off. carefully the pilot listens to what the engine revolution indicator says. at last, "steady at , revs. and i'll pick up the rest in the air." then does he throttle down the engine, carefully putting the lever back to the last notch to make sure that in such position the throttle is still sufficiently open for the engine to continue working, as otherwise it might lead to him "losing" his engine in the air when throttling down the power for descent. then, giving the official signal, he sees the blocks removed from the wheels, and the flight-sergeant saluting he knows that all is clear to ascend. one more signal, and all the a.m.'s run clear of the aeroplane. then gently, gently mind you, with none of the "crashing on" bad pilots think so fine, he opens the throttle and, the propeller thrust overcoming its enemy the drift, the aeroplane moves forward. "ah!" says the wind-screen, "that's discipline, that is. through my little triplex window i see most things, and don't i just know that poor discipline always results in poor work in the air, and don't you forget it." "discipline is it?" complains the under-carriage, as its wheels roll swiftly over the rather rough ground. "i'm _bump_ getting it, and _bump_, _bump_, all i want, _bang_, _bump_, _rattle_, too!" but, as the lift increases with the speed, the complaints of the under-carriage are stilled, and then, the friendly lift becoming greater than the weight, the aeroplane swiftly and easily takes to the air. below is left the earth with all its bumps and troubles. up into the clean clear air moves with incredible speed and steadiness this triumph of the designer, the result of how much mental effort, imagination, trials and errors, failures and successes, and many a life lost in high endeavour. now is the mighty voice of the engine heard as he turns the propeller nine hundred times a minute. now does the thrust fight the drift for all it's worth, and the air speed indicator gasps with delight "one hundred miles an hour!" and now does the burden of work fall upon the lift and drift wires, and they scream to the turnbuckles whose business it is to hold them in tension, "this is the limit! the limit! the limit! release us, if only a quarter turn." but the turnbuckles are locked too fast to turn their eyes or utter a word. only the locking wires thus: "ha! ha! the rigger knew his job. he knew the trick, and there's no release here." for an expert rigger will always use the locking wire in such a way as to oppose the slightest tendency of the turnbuckle to unscrew. the other kind of rigger will often use the wire in such a way as to allow the turnbuckle, to the "eyes" of which the wires are attached, to unscrew a quarter of a turn or more, with the result that the correct adjustment of the wires may be lost; and upon their fine adjustment much depends. and the struts and the spars groan in compression and pray to keep straight, for once "out of truth" there is, in addition to possible collapse, the certainty that in bending they will throw many wires out of adjustment. and the fabric's quite mixed in its mind, and ejaculates, "now, who would have thought i got more lift from the top of the surface than its bottom?" and then truculently to the distance pieces, which run from rib to rib, "just keep the ribs from rolling, will you? or you'll see me strip. i'm an irishman, i am, and if my coat comes off---- yes, irish, i said. i used to come from egypt, but i've got naturalized since the war began." then the air speed indicator catches the eye of the pilot. "good enough," he says as he gently deflects the elevator and points the nose of the aeroplane upwards in search of the elusive best climbing angle. "ha! ha!" shouts the drift, growing stronger with the increased angle of incidence. "ha! ha!" he laughs to the thrust. "now i've got you. now who's master?" and the propeller shrieks hysterically, "oh! look at me. i'm a helicopter. that's not fair. where's efficiency?" and she can only sadly reply, "yes, indeed, but you see we're a compromise." and the drift has hopes of reaching the maximum angle of incidence and vanquishing the thrust and the lift. and he grows very bold as he strangles the thrust; but the situation is saved by the propeller, who is now bravely helicopting skywards, somewhat to the chagrin of efficiency. "much ado about nothing," quotes the aeroplane learnedly. "compromise or not, i'm climbing a thousand feet a minute. ask the altimeter. he'll confirm it." and so indeed it was. the vacuum box of the altimeter was steadily expanding under the decreased pressure of the rarefied air, and by means of its little levers and its wonderful chain no larger than a hair it was moving the needle round the gauge and indicating the ascent at the rate of a thousand feet a minute. and lo! the aeroplane has almost reached the clouds! but what's this? a sudden gust, and down sinks one wing and up goes the other. "oh, my horizontal equivalent!" despairingly call the planes; "it's eloping with the lift, and what in the name of gravity will happen? surely there was enough scandal in the factory without this, too!" for the lift varies with the horizontal equivalent of the planes, so that if the aeroplane tilts sideways beyond a certain angle, the lift becomes less than the weight of the machine, which must then fall. a fall in such a position is known as a "side-slip." but the ever-watchful pilot instantly depresses one aileron, elevating the other, with just a touch of the rudder to keep on the course, and the planes welcome back their precious lift as the aeroplane flicks back to its normal position. "bit bumpy here under these clouds," is all the pilot says as he heads for a gap between them, and the next minute the aeroplane shoots up into a new world of space. "my eye!" ejaculates the wind-screen, "talk about a view!" and indeed mere words will always fail to express the wonder of it. six thousand feet up now, and look! the sun is rising quicker than ever mortal on earth witnessed its ascent. far below is mother earth, wrapt in mists and deep blue shadows, and far above are those light, filmy, ethereal clouds now faintly tinged with pink. and all about great mountains of cloud, lazily floating in space. the sun rises and they take on all colours, blending one with the other, from dazzling white to crimson and deep violet-blue. lakes and rivers here and there in the enormous expanse of country below refract the level rays of the sun and, like so many immense diamonds, send dazzling shafts of light far upwards. the tops of the hills now laugh to the light of the sun, but the valleys are still mysterious dark blue caverns, crowned with white filmy lace-like streaks of vapour. and withal the increasing sense with altitude of vast, clean, silent solitudes of space. lives there the man who can adequately describe this wonder? "never," says the pilot, who has seen it many times, but to whom it is ever new and more wonderful. up, up, up, and still up, unfalteringly speeds the pilot and his mount. sweet the drone of the engine and steady the thrust as the propeller exultingly battles with the drift. and look! what is that bright silver streak all along the horizon? it puzzled the pilot when first he saw it, but now he knows it for the sea, full fifty miles away! and on his right is the brightness of the morn and the smiling earth unveiling itself to the ardent rays of the sun; and on his left, so high is he, there is yet black night, hiding innumerable cities, towns, villages, and all those places where soon teeming multitudes of men shall awake, and by their unceasing toil and the spirit within them produce marvels of which the aeroplane is but the harbinger. and the pilot's soul is refreshed, and his vision, now exalted, sees the earth a very garden, even as it appears at that height, with discord banished and a happy time come, when the designer shall have at last captured efficiency, and the man-who-takes-the-credit is he who has earned it, and when kisses are the only things that go by favour. now the pilot anxiously scans the barograph, which is an instrument much the same as the altimeter; but in this case the expansion of the vacuum box causes a pen to trace a line upon a roll of paper. this paper is made by clockwork to pass over the point of the pen, and so a curved line is made which accurately registers the speed of the ascent in feet per minute. no longer is the ascent at the rate of a thousand feet a minute, and the propeller complains to the engine, "i'm losing my revs. and the thrust. buck up with the power, for the lift is decreasing, though the weight remains much the same." quoth the engine: "i strangle for air. a certain proportion, and that of right density, i must have to one part of petrol, in order to give me full power and compression, and here at an altitude of ten thousand feet the air is only two-thirds as dense as at sea-level. oh, where is he who will invent a contrivance to keep me supplied with air of right density and quality? it should not be impossible within certain limits." "we fully agree," said the dying power and thrust. "only maintain us and you shall be surprised at the result. for our enemy drift _decreases in respect of distance with the increase of altitude and rarity of air_, and there is no limit to the speed through space if only our strength remains. and with oxygen for pilot and passengers and a steeper pitch[ ] for the propeller we may then circle the earth in a day!" ah, reader, smile not unbelievingly, as you smiled but a few years past. there may be greater wonders yet. consider that as the speed increases, so does the momentum or stored-up force in the mass of the aeroplane become terrific. and, bearing that in mind, remember that with altitude _gravity decreases_. there may yet be literally other worlds to conquer.[ ] now at fifteen thousand feet the conditions are chilly and rare, and the pilot, with thoughts of breakfast far below, exclaims, "high enough! i had better get on with the test." and then, as he depresses the elevator, the aeroplane with relief assumes its normal horizontal position. then, almost closing the throttle, the thrust dies away. now, the nose of the aeroplane should sink of its own volition, and the craft glide downward at flying speed, which is in this case a hundred miles an hour. that is what should happen if the designer has carefully calculated the weight of every part and arranged for the centre of gravity to be just the right distance in front of the centre of lift. thus is the aeroplane "nose-heavy" as a glider, and just so to a degree ensuring a speed of glide equal to its flying speed. and the air speed indicator is steady at one hundred miles an hour, and "that's all right!" exclaims the pilot. "and very useful, too, in a fog or a cloud," he reflects, for then he can safely leave the angle of the glide to itself, and give all his attention, and he will need it all, to keeping the aeroplane horizontal from wing-tip to wing-tip, and to keeping it straight on its course. the latter he will manage with the rudder, controlled by his feet, and the compass will tell him whether a straight course is kept. the former he will control by the ailerons, or little wings hinged to the tips of the planes, and the bubble in the inclinometer in front of him must be kept in the middle. a pilot, being only human, may be able to do two things at once, but three is a tall order, so was this pilot relieved to find the design not at fault and his craft a "natural glider." to correct this nose-heavy tendency when the engine is running, and descent not required, the centre of thrust is arranged to be a little below the centre of drift or resistance, and thus acts as a counter-balance. but what is this stream of bad language from the exhaust pipe, accompanied by gouts of smoke and vapour? the engine, now revolving at no more than one-tenth its normal speed, has upset the proportion of petrol to air, and combustion is taking place intermittently or in the exhaust pipe, where it has no business to be. "crash, bang, rattle----!----!----!" and worse than that, yells the exhaust, and the aeroplane, who is a gentleman and not a box kite,[ ] remonstrates with the severity of a senior officer. "see the medical officer, you young hun. go and see a doctor. vocal diarrhoea, that's your complaint, and a very nasty one too. bad form, bad for discipline, and a nuisance in the mess. what's your regiment? special reserve, you say? humph! sounds like secondhand bicycle trade to me!" now the pilot decides to change the straight gliding descent to a spiral one, and, obedient to the rudder, the aeroplane turns to the left. but the momentum (two tons at miles per hour is no small affair) heavily resents this change of direction, and tries its level best to prevent it and to pull the machine sideways and outwards from its spiral course--that is, to make it "side-skid" outwards. but the pilot deflects the ailerons and "banks" up the planes to the correct angle, and, the aeroplane skidding sideways and outwards, the lower surfaces of the planes press up against the air until the pressure equals the centrifugal force of the momentum, and the aeroplane spirals steadily downwards. down, down, down, and the air grows denser, and the pilot gulps largely, filling his lungs with the heavier air to counteract the increasing pressure from without. down through a gap in the clouds, and the aerodrome springs into view, appearing no larger than a saucer, and the pilot, having by now got the "feel" of the controls, proceeds to put the aeroplane through its paces. first at its maximum angle, staggering along tail-down and just maintaining horizontal flight; then a dive at far over flying speed, finishing with a perfect loop; then sharp turns with attendant vertical "banks," and then a wonderful switchback flight, speeding down at a hundred and fifty miles an hour with short, exhilarating ascents at the rate of two thousand feet a minute! all the parts are now working well together. such wires as were before in undue tension have secured relief by slightly elongating their loops, and each one is now doing its bit, and all are sharing the burden of work together. the struts and the spars, which felt so awkward at first, have bedded themselves in their sockets, and are taking the compression stresses uncomplainingly. the control cables of twisted wire, a bit tight before, have slightly lengthened by perhaps the eighth of an inch, and, the controls instantly responding to the delicate touch of the pilot, the aeroplane, at the will of its master, darts this way and that way, dives, loops, spirals, and at last, in one long, magnificent glide, lands gently in front of its shed. "well, what result?" calls the flight-commander to the pilot. "a hundred miles an hour and a thousand feet a minute," he briefly replies. "and a very good result too," says the aeroplane, complacently, as he is carefully wheeled into his shed. * * * * * that is the way aeroplanes speak to those who love them and understand them. lots of pilots know all about it, and can spin you wonderful yarns, much better than this one, if you catch them in a confidential mood--on leave, for instance, and after a good dinner. [footnote : a.m.'s: air mechanics.] [footnote : butt means to thicken at the end. screw means to machine a thread on the butt-end of the wire, and in this way the wire can make connection with the desired place by being screwed into a metal fitting, thus eliminating the disadvantage of the unsatisfactory loop.] [footnote : deviation curve: a curved line indicating any errors in the compass.] [footnote : a propeller screws through the air, and the distance it advances during one revolution, supposing the air to be solid, is known as the pitch. the pitch, which depends upon the angle of the propeller blades, must be equal to the speed of the aeroplane, plus the slip, and if, on account of the rarity of the air, the speed of the aeroplane increases, then the angle and pitch should be correspondingly increased. propellers with a pitch capable of being varied by the pilot are the dream of propeller designers. for explanation of "slip" see chapter iv. on propellers.] [footnote : getting out of my depth? invading the realms of fancy? well, perhaps so, but at any rate it is possible that extraordinary speed through space may be secured if means are found to maintain the impulse of the engine and the thrust-drift efficiency of the propeller at great altitude.] [footnote : box-kite. the first crude form of biplane.] part iv 'cross country the aeroplane had been designed and built, and tested in the air, and now it stood on the aerodrome ready for its first 'cross-country flight. it had run the gauntlet of pseudo-designers, crank inventors, press "experts," and politicians; of manufacturers keen on cheap work and large profits; of poor pilots who had funked it, and good pilots who had expected too much of it. thousands of pounds had been wasted on it, many had gone bankrupt over it, and others it had provided with safe fat jobs. somehow, and despite every conceivable obstacle, it had managed to muddle through, and now it was ready for its work. it was not perfect, for there were fifty different ways in which it might be improved, some of them shamefully obvious. but it was fairly sound mechanically, had a little inherent stability, was easily controlled, could climb a thousand feet a minute, and its speed was a hundred miles an hour. in short, quite a creditable machine, though of course the right man had not got the credit. it is rough, unsettled weather with a thirty mile an hour wind on the ground, and that means fifty more or less aloft. lots of clouds at different altitudes to bother the pilot, and the air none too clear for the observation of landmarks. as the pilot and observer approach the aeroplane the former is clearly not in the best of tempers. "it's rotten luck," he is saying, "a blank shame that i should have to take this blessed 'bus and join x reserve squadron, stationed a hundred and fifty miles from anywhere; and just as i have licked my flight into shape. now some slack blighter will, i suppose, command it and get the credit of all my work!" "shut up, you grouser," said the observer. "do you think you're the only one with troubles? haven't i been through it too? oh! i know all about it! you're from the special reserve and your c.o. doesn't like your style of beauty, and you won't lick his boots, and you were a bit of a technical knut in civil life, but now you've jolly well got to know less than those senior to you. well! it's a very good experience for most of us. perhaps conceit won't be at quite such a premium after this war. and what's the use of grousing? that never helped anyone. so buck up, old chap. your day will come yet. here's our machine, and i must say it looks a beauty!" and, as the pilot approaches the aeroplane, his face brightens and he soon forgets his troubles as he critically inspects the craft which is to transport him and the observer over the hills and far away. turning to the flight-sergeant he inquires, "tanks full of petrol and oil?" "yes, sir," he replies, "and everything else all correct. propeller, engine, and body covers on board, sir; tool kit checked over and in the locker; engine and aeroplane logbooks written up, signed, and under your seat; engine revs. up to mark, and all the control cables in perfect condition and tension." "very good," said the pilot; and then turning to the observer, "before we start you had better have a look at the course i have mapped out (see p. ). "a is where we stand and we have to reach b, a hundred and fifty miles due north. i judge that, at the altitude we shall fly, there will be an east wind, for although it is not quite east on the ground it is probably about twenty degrees different aloft, the wind usually moving round clockways to about that extent. i think that it is blowing at the rate of about fifty miles an hour, and i therefore take a line on the map to c, fifty miles due west of a. the aeroplane's speed is a hundred miles an hour, and so i take a line of one hundred miles from c to d. our compass course will then be in the direction a--e, which is always a line parallel to c--d. that is, to be exact, it will be fourteen degrees off the c--d course, as, in this part of the globe, there is that much difference between the north and south lines on the map and the magnetic north to which the compass needle points. if the compass has an error, as it may have of a few degrees, that, too, must be taken into account, and the deviation or error curve on the dashboard will indicate it. [illustration: a--b, miles, a--c, miles; direction and miles per hour of wind. c--d, miles; airspeed of aeroplane. a--d, distance covered by aeroplane in one hour. a--e, compass course.] "the aeroplane will then always be pointing in a direction parallel to a--e, but, owing to the side wind, it will be actually travelling over the course a--b, though in a rather sideways attitude to that course. "the distance we shall travel over the a--b course in one hour is a--d. that is nearly eighty-seven miles, so we ought to accomplish our journey of a hundred and fifty miles in about one and three-quarter hours. "i hope that's quite clear to you. it's a very simple way of calculating the compass course, and i always do it like that." "yes, that's plain enough. you have drafted what engineers call 'a parallelogram of forces'; but suppose you have miscalculated the velocity of the wind, or that it should change in velocity or direction?" "well, that of course will more or less alter matters," replies the pilot. "but there are any number of good landmarks such as lakes, rivers, towns, and railway lines. they will help to keep us on the right course, and the compass will, at any rate, prevent us from going far astray when between them." "well, we'd better be off, old chap. hop aboard." this from the observer as he climbs into the front seat from which he will command a good view over the lower plane; and the pilot takes his place in the rear seat, and, after making himself perfectly comfortable, fixing his safety belt, and moving the control levers to make sure that they are working freely, he gives the signal to the engine fitter to turn the propeller and so start the engine. round buzzes the propeller, and the pilot, giving the official signal, the aeroplane is released and rolls swiftly over the ground in the teeth of the gusty wind. in less than fifty yards it takes to the air and begins to climb rapidly upwards, but how different are the conditions to the calm morning of yesterday! if the air were visible it would be seen to be acting in the most extraordinary manner; crazily swirling, lifting and dropping, gusts viciously colliding--a mad phantasmagoria of forces! wickedly it seizes and shakes the aeroplane; then tries to turn it over sideways; then instantly changes its mind and in a second drops it into a hole a hundred feet deep; and if it were not for his safety belt the pilot might find his seat sinking away from beneath him. gusts strike the front of the craft like so many slaps in the face; and others, with the motion of mountainous waves, sometimes lift it hundreds of feet in a few seconds, hoping to see it plunge over the summit in a death-dive--and so it goes on, but the pilot, perfectly at one with his mount and instantly alert to its slightest motion, is skilfully and naturally making perhaps fifty movements a minute of hand and feet; the former lightly grasping the "joy-stick" which controls the elevator hinged to the tail, and also the ailerons or little wings hinged to the wing-tips; and the latter moving the rudder control-bar. [illustration: the pilot's cock-pit.] a strain on the pilot? not a bit of it, for this is his work which he loves and excels in; and given a cool head, alert eye, and a sensitive touch for the controls, what sport can compare with these ever-changing battles of the air? the aeroplane has all this time been climbing in great wide circles, and is now some three thousand feet above the aerodrome which from such height looks absurdly small. the buildings below now seem quite squat; the hills appear to have sunk away into the ground, and the whole country below, cut up into diminutive fields, has the appearance of having been lately tidied and thoroughly spring-cleaned! a doll's country it looks, with tiny horses and cows ornamenting the fields and little model motor-cars and carts stuck on the roads, the latter stretching away across country like ribbons accidentally dropped. at three thousand feet altitude the pilot is satisfied that he is now sufficiently high to secure, in the event of engine failure, a long enough glide to earth to enable him to choose and reach a good landing-place; and, being furthermore content with the steady running of the engine, he decides to climb no more but to follow the course he has mapped out. consulting the compass, he places the aeroplane on the a--e course and, using the elevator, he gives his craft its minimum angle of incidence at which it will just maintain horizontal flight and secure its maximum speed. swiftly he speeds away, and few thoughts he has now for the changing panorama of country, cloud, and colour. ever present in his mind are the three great 'cross-country queries. "am i on my right course? can i see a good landing-ground within gliding distance?" and "how is the engine running?" keenly both he and the observer compare their maps with the country below. the roads, khaki-coloured ribbons, are easily seen but are not of much use, for there are so many of them and they all look alike from such an altitude. now where can that lake be which the map shows so plainly? he feels that surely he should see it by now, and has an uncomfortable feeling that he is flying too far west. what pilot is there indeed who has not many times experienced such unpleasant sensation? few things in the air can create greater anxiety. wisely, however, he sticks to his compass course, and the next minute he is rewarded by a sight of the lake, though indeed he now sees that the direction of his travel will not take him over it, as should be the case if he were flying over the shortest route to his destination. he must have slightly miscalculated the velocity or direction of the side-wind. "about ten degrees off," he mutters, and, using the rudder, corrects his course accordingly. now he feels happier and that he is well on his way. the gusts, too, have ceased to trouble him as, at this altitude, they are not nearly so bad as they were near the ground, the broken surface of which does much to produce them; and sometimes for miles he makes but a movement or two of the controls. the clouds just above race by with dizzy and uniform speed; the country below slowly unrolls, and the steady drone of the engine is almost hypnotic in effect. "sleep, sleep, sleep," it insidiously suggests. "listen to me and watch the clouds; there's nothing else to do. dream, dream, dream of speeding through space for ever, and ever, and ever; and rest, rest, rest to the sound of my rhythmical hum. droning on and on, nothing whatever matters. all things now are merged into speed through space and a sleepy monotonous d-d-r-r-o-o-n-n-e------." but the pilot pulls himself together with a start and peers far ahead in search of the next landmark. this time it is a little country town, red-roofed his map tells him, and roughly of cruciform shape; and, sure enough, there in the right direction are the broken outlines of a few red roofs peeping out from between the trees. another minute and he can see this little town, a fairy place it appears, nestling down between the hills and its red roofs and picturesque shape, a glowing and lovely contrast with the dark green of the surrounding moors. so extraordinarily clean and tidy it looks from such a height, and laid out in such orderly fashion with perfectly defined squares, parks, avenues, and public buildings, it indeed appears hardly real, but rather as if it has this very day materialized from some delightful children's book! every city and town you must know has its distinct individuality to the pilot's eye. some are not fairy places at all, but great dark ugly blots upon the fair countryside, and with tall shafts belching forth murky columns of smoke to defile clean space. others, melancholy-looking masses of grey, slate-roofed houses, are always sad and dispirited; never welcoming the glad sunshine, but ever calling for leaden skies and a weeping heaven. others again, little coquettes with village green, white palings everywhere, bright gravel roads, and an irrepressible air of brightness and gaiety. then there are the rivers, silvery streaks peacefully winding far, far away to the distant horizon; they and the lakes the finest landmarks the pilot can have. and the forests. how can i describe them? the trees cannot be seen separately, but merge altogether into enormous irregular dark green masses sprawling over the country, and sometimes with great ungainly arms half encircling some town or village; and the wind passing over the foliage at times gives the forest an almost living appearance, as of some great dragon of olden times rousing itself from slumber to devour the peaceful villages its arms encircle. and the pilot and observer fly on and on, seeing these things and many others which baffle my poor skill to describe--things, dear reader, that you shall see, and poets sing of, and great artists paint in the days to come when the designer has captured efficiency. then, and the time is near, shall you see this beautiful world as you have never seen it before, the garden it is, the peace it breathes, and the wonder of it. the pilot, flying on, is now anxiously looking for the railway line which midway on his journey should point the course. ah! there it is at last, but suddenly (and the map at fault) it plunges into the earth! well the writer remembers when that happened to him on a long 'cross-country flight in the early days of aviation. anxiously he wondered "are tunnels always straight?" and with what relief, keeping on a straight course, he picked up the line again some three miles farther on! now at last the pilot sees the sea, just a streak on the north-eastern horizon, and he knows that his flight is two-thirds over. indeed, he should have seen it before, but the air is none too clear, and he is not yet able to discern the river which soon should cross his path. as he swiftly speeds on the air becomes denser and denser with what he fears must be the beginning of a sea-fog, perhaps drifting inland along the course of the river. now does he feel real anxiety, for it is the _duty_ of a pilot to fear fog, his deadliest enemy. fog not only hides the landmarks by which he keeps his course, but makes the control of the aeroplane a matter of the greatest difficulty. he may not realize it, but, in keeping his machine on an even keel, he is unconsciously balancing it against the horizon, and with the horizon gone he is lost indeed. not only that, but it also prevents him from choosing his landing-place, and the chances are that, landing in a fog, he will smash into a tree, hedge, or building, with disastrous results. the best and boldest pilot 'wares a fog, and so this one, finding the conditions becoming worse and yet worse, and being forced to descend lower and lower in order to keep the earth within view, wisely decides to choose a landing-place while there is yet time to do so. throttling down the power of the engine he spirals downwards, keenly observing the country below. there are plenty of green fields to lure him, and his great object is to avoid one in which the grass is long, for that would bring his machine to a stop so suddenly as to turn it over; or one of rough surface likely to break the under-carriage. now is perfect eyesight and a cool head indispensable. he sees and decides upon a field and, knowing his job, he sticks to that field with no change of mind to confuse him. it is none too large, and gliding just over the trees and head on to the wind he skilfully "stalls" his machine; that is, the speed having decreased sufficiently to avoid such a manoeuvre resulting in ascent, he, by means of the elevator, gives the aeroplane as large an angle of incidence as possible, and the undersides of the planes meeting the air at such a large angle act as an air-brake, and the aeroplane, skimming over the ground, lessens its speed and finally stops just at the farther end of the field. then, after driving the aeroplane up to and under the lee of the hedge, he stops the engine, and quickly lashing the joy-stick fast in order to prevent the wind from blowing the controlling surfaces about and possibly damaging them, he hurriedly alights. now running to the tail he lifts it up on to his shoulder, for the wind has become rough indeed and there is danger of the aeroplane becoming unmanageable. by this action he decreases the angle at which the planes are inclined to the wind and so minimizes the latter's effect upon them. then to the observer, "hurry up, old fellow, and try to find some rope, wire, or anything with which to picket the machine. the wind is rising and i shan't be able to hold the 'bus steady for long. don't forget the wire-cutters. they're in the tool kit." and the observer rushes off in frantic haste, before long triumphantly returning with a long length of wire from a neighbouring fence. blocking up the tail with some debris at hand, they soon succeed, with the aid of the wire, in stoutly picketing the aeroplane to the roots of the high hedge in front of it; done with much care, too, so that the wire shall not fray the fabric or set up dangerous bending-stresses in the woodwork. their work is not done yet, for the observer remarking, "i don't like the look of this thick weather and rather fear a heavy rain-storm," the pilot replies, "well, it's a fearful bore, but the first rule of our game is never to take an unnecessary risk, so out with the engine and body covers." working with a will they soon have the engine and the open part of the body which contains the seats, controls, and instruments snugly housed with their waterproof covers, and the aeroplane is ready to weather the possible storm. says the observer, "i'm remarkably peckish, and methinks i spy the towers of one of england's stately homes showing themselves just beyond that wood, less than a quarter of a mile away. what ho! for a raid. what do you say?" "all right, you cut along and i'll stop here, for the aeroplane must not be left alone. get back as quickly as possible." and the observer trots off, leaving the pilot filling his pipe and anxiously scrutinizing the weather conditions. very thick it is now, but the day is yet young, and he has hopes of the fog lifting sufficiently to enable the flight to be resumed. a little impatiently he awaits the return of his comrade, but with never a doubt of the result, for the hospitality of the country house is proverbial among pilots! what old hand among them is there who cannot instance many a forced landing made pleasant by such hospitality? never too late or too early to help with food, petrol, oil, tools, and assistants. many a grateful thought has the writer for such kind help given in the days before the war (how long ago they seem!), when aeroplanes were still more imperfect than they are now, and involuntary descents often a part of 'cross-country flying. ah! those early days! how fresh and inspiring they were! as one started off on one's first 'cross-country flight, on a machine the first of its design, and with everything yet to learn, and the wonders of the air yet to explore; then the joy of accomplishment, the dreams of efficiency, the hard work and long hours better than leisure; and what a field of endeavour--the realms of space to conquer! and the battle still goes on with ever-increasing success. who is bold enough to say what its limits shall be? so ruminates this pilot-designer, as he puffs at his pipe, until his reverie is abruptly disturbed by the return of the observer. "wake up, you _airman_," the latter shouts. "here's the very thing the doctor ordered! a basket of first-class grub and something to keep the fog out, too." "well, that's splendid, but don't call me newspaper names or you'll spoil my appetite!" then, with hunger such as only flying can produce, they appreciatively discuss their lunch, and with many a grateful thought for the donors--and they talk shop. they can't help it, and even golf is a poor second to flight talk. says the pilot, who must have his grievance, "just observe where i managed to stop the machine. not twenty feet from this hedge! a little more and we should have been through it and into kingdom come! i stalled as well as one could, but the tail touched the ground and so i could not give the aeroplane any larger angle of incidence. could i have given it a larger angle, then the planes would have become a much more effective air-brake, and we should have come to rest in a much shorter distance. it's all the fault of the tail. there's hardly a type of aeroplane in existence in which the tail could not be raised several feet, and that would make all the difference. a high tail means a large angle of incidence when the machine touches ground and, with enough angle, i'll guarantee to safely land the fastest machine in a five-acre field. you can, i am sure, imagine what a difference that would make where forced landings are concerned!" then rapidly sketching in his notebook, he shows the observer the following illustration: [illustration: the pilot's aeroplane. the change of design he would like.] "that's very pretty," said the observer, "but how about mechanical difficulties, and efficiency in respect of flight? and, anyway, why hasn't such an obvious thing been done already?" "as regards the first part of your question i assure you that there's nothing in it, and i'll prove it to you as follows----" "oh! that's all right, old chap. i'll take your word for it," hurriedly replies the observer, whose soul isn't tuned to a technical key. "as regards the latter part of your inquiry," went on the pilot, a little nettled at having such a poor listener, "it's very simple. aeroplanes have 'just growed' like topsy, and they consequently contain this and many another relic of early day design when aeroplanes were more or less thrown together and anything was good enough that could get off the ground." "by jove," interrupts the observer, "i do believe the fog is lifting. hadn't we better get the engine and body covers off, just in case it's really so?" "i believe you're right. i am sure those hills over there could not be seen a few minutes ago, and look--there's sunshine over there. we'd better hurry up." ten minutes' hard work and the covers are off, neatly folded and stowed aboard; the picketing wires are cast adrift, and the pilot is once more in his seat. the aeroplane has been turned to face the other end of the field, and, the observer swinging round the propeller, the engine is awake again and slowly ticking over. quickly the observer climbs into his seat in front of the pilot, and, the latter slightly opening the throttle, the aeroplane leisurely rolls over the ground towards the other end of the field, from which the ascent will be made. arriving there the pilot turns the aeroplane in order to face the wind and thus secure a quick "get-off." then he opens the throttle fully and the mighty voice of the engine roars out "now see me clear that hedge!" and the aeroplane races forward at its minimum angle of incidence. tail up, and with ever-increasing speed, it rushes towards the hedge under the lee of which it has lately been at rest; and then, just as the observer involuntarily pulls back an imaginary joy-stick, the pilot moves the real one and places the machine at its best climbing angle. like a living thing it responds, and instantly leaves the ground, clearing the hedge like a--well, like an aeroplane with an excellent margin of lift. upwards it climbs with even and powerful lift, and the familiar scenes below again gladden the eyes of the pilot. smaller and more and more squat grow the houses and hills; more and more doll-like appear the fields which are clearly outlined by the hedges; and soon the country below is easily identified with the map. now they can see the river before them and a bay of the sea which must be crossed or skirted. the fog still lingers along the course of the river and between the hills, but is fast rolling away in grey, ghost-like masses. out to sea it obscures the horizon, making it difficult to be sure where water ends and fog begins, and creating a strange, rather weird, effect by which ships at a certain distance appear to be floating in space. now the aeroplane is almost over the river, and the next instant it suddenly drops into a "hole in the air." with great suddenness it happens, and for some two hundred feet it drops nose-down and tilted over sideways; but the pilot is prepared and has put his craft on an even keel in less time than it takes to tell you about it; for well he knows that he must expect such conditions when passing over a shore or, indeed, any well-defined change in the composition of the earth's surface. especially is this so on a hot and sunny day, for then the warm surface of the earth creates columns of ascending air, the speed of the ascent depending upon the composition of the surface. sandy soil, for instance, such as borders this river produces a quickly ascending column of air, whereas water and forests have not such a marked effect. thus, when our aeroplane passed over the shore of the river, it suddenly lost the lift due to the ascending air produced by the warm sandy soil, and it consequently dropped just as if it had fallen into a hole. now the aeroplane is over the bay and, the sea being calm, the pilot looks down, down through the water, and clearly sees the bottom, hundreds of feet below the surface. down through the reflection of the blue sky and clouds, and one might think that is all, but it isn't. only those who fly know the beauties of the sea as viewed from above; its dappled pearly tints; its soft dark blue shadows; the beautiful contrasts of unusual shades of colour which are always differing and shifting with the changing sunshine and the ever moving position of the aerial observer. ah! for some better pen than mine to describe these things! one with glowing words and a magic rhythm to express the wonders of the air and the beauty of the garden beneath--the immensity of the sea--the sense of space and of one's littleness there--the realization of the power moving the multitudes below--the exaltation of spirit altitude produces--the joy of speed. a new world of sensation! now the bay is almost crossed and the aerodrome at b. can be distinguished.... * * * * * on the aerodrome is a little crowd waiting and watching for the arrival of the aeroplane, for it is of a new and improved type and its first 'cross-country performance is of keen interest to these men; men who really know something about flight. there is the squadron commander who has done some real flying in his time; several well-seasoned flight-commanders; a dozen or more flight-lieutenants; a knowledgeable flight-sergeant; a number of air mechanics, and, a little on one side and almost unnoticed, the designer. "i hope they are all right," says someone, "and that they haven't had difficulties with the fog. it rolled up very quickly, you know." "never fear," remarks a flight-commander. "i know the pilot well and he's a good 'un; far too good to carry on into a fog." "they say the machine is really something out of the ordinary," says another, "and that, for once, the designer has been allowed full play; that he hasn't been forced to unduly standardize ribs, spars, struts, etc., and has more or less had his own way. i wonder who he is. it seems strange we hear so little of him." "ah! my boy. you do a bit more flying and you'll discover that things are not always as they appear from a distance!" "there she is, sir!" cries the flight-sergeant. "just a speck over the silvery corner of that cloud." a tiny speck it looks, some six miles distant and three thousand feet high; but, racing along, it rapidly appears larger and soon its outlines can be traced and the sunlight be seen playing upon the whirling propeller. now the distant drone of the engine can be heard, but not for long, for suddenly it ceases and, the nose of the aeroplane sinking, the craft commences gliding downwards. "surely too far away," says a subaltern. "it will be a wonderful machine if, from that distance and height, it can glide into the aerodrome." and more than one express the opinion that it cannot be done; but the designer smiles to himself, yet with a little anxiety, for his reputation is at stake, and efficiency, the main reward he desires, is perhaps, or perhaps not, at last within his grasp! swiftly the machine glides downwards towards them, and it can now be seen how surprisingly little it is affected by the rough weather and gusts; so much so that a little chorus of approval is heard. "jolly good gliding angle," says someone; and another, "beautifully quick controls, what?" and from yet another, "by jove! the pilot must be sure of the machine. look, he's stopped the engine entirely." then the aeroplane with noiseless engine glides over the boundary of the aerodrome, and, with just a soft soughing sound from the air it cleaves, lands gently not fifty yards from the onlookers. "glad to see you," says the squadron commander to the pilot. "how do you like the machine?" and the pilot replies: "i never want a better one, sir. it almost flies itself!" and the designer turns his face homewards and towards his beloved drawing-office; well satisfied, but still dreaming dreams of the future and ... looking far ahead who should he see but efficiency at last coming towards him! and to him she is all things. in her hair is the morning sunshine; her eyes hold the blue of the sky, and on her cheeks is the pearly tint of the clouds as seen from above. the passion of speed, the lure of space, the sense of power, and the wonder of the future ... all these things she holds for him. "ah!" he cries. "you'll never leave me now, when at last there is no one between us?" and efficiency, smiling and blushing, but practical as ever, says: "and you will never throw those compromises in my face?" "my dear, i love you for them! haven't they been my life ever since i began striving for you ten long years ago?" and so they walk off very happily, arm-in-arm together; and if this hasn't bored you and you'd like some more of the same sort of thing, i'd just love to tell you some day of the wonderful things they accomplish together, and of what they dream the future holds in store. [illustration] _and that's the end of the prologue._ chapter i flight air has weight (about cubic feet = lb.), inertia, and momentum. it therefore obeys newton's laws[ ] and resists movement. it is that resistance or reaction which makes flight possible. flight is secured by driving through the air a surface[ ] inclined upwards and towards the direction of motion. [illustration] s = side view of surface. m = direction of motion. chord.--the chord is, for practical purposes, taken to be a straight line from the leading edge of the surface to its trailing edge. n = a line through the surface starting from its trailing edge. the position of this line, which i call the _neutral lift line_, is found by means of wind-tunnel research, and it varies with differences in the camber (curvature) of surfaces. in order to secure flight, the inclination of the surface must be such that the neutral lift line makes an angle with and _above_ the line of motion. if it is coincident with m, there is no lift. if it makes an angle with m and _below_ it, then there is a pressure tending to force the surface down. i = angle of incidence. this angle is generally defined as the angle the chord makes with the direction of motion, but that is a bad definition, as it leads to misconception. the angle of incidence is best described as the angle the neutral lift line makes with the direction of motion relative to the air. you will, however, find that in nearly all rigging specifications the angle of incidence is taken to mean the angle the chord makes with a line parallel to the propeller thrust. this is necessary from the point of view of the practical mechanic who has to rig the aeroplane, for he could not find the neutral lift line, whereas he can easily find the chord. again, he would certainly be in doubt as to "the direction of motion relative to the air," whereas he can easily find a line parallel to the propeller thrust. it is a pity, however, that these practical considerations have resulted in a bad definition of the angle of incidence becoming prevalent, a consequence of which has been the widespread fallacy that flight may be secured with a negative inclination of the surface. flight may conceivably be secured with a negative angle of chord, but never with a negative inclination of the surface, if, as seems reasonable, we regard the surface from the point of view of the neutral lift line. all this is only applicable to cambered surfaces. in the case of flat surfaces the neutral lift line coincides with the chord and the definition i have criticized adversely is then applicable. flat lifting surfaces are, however, never used. the surface acts upon the air in the following manner: [illustration] as the bottom of the surface meets the air, it compresses it and accelerates it _downwards_. as a result of this definite action there is, of course, an equal and opposite reaction _upwards_. the top surface, in moving forward, tends to leave the air behind it, thus creating a semi-vacuum or rarefied area over the top of the surface. consequently the pressure of air on the top of the surface is decreased, thus assisting the reaction below to lift the surface _upwards_. the reaction increases approximately as the square of the velocity. it is the result of ( ) the mass of air engaged, and ( ) the velocity and consequent force with which the surface engages the air. if the reaction was produced by only one of those factors it would increase in direct proportion to the velocity, but, since it is the product of both factors, it increases as v^ . approximately three-fifths of the reaction is due to the decrease of density (and consequent decrease of downward pressure) on the top of the surface; and only some two-fifths is due to the upward reaction secured by the action of the bottom surface upon the air. a practical point in respect of this is that, in the event of the fabric covering the surface getting into bad condition, it is more likely to strip off the top than off the bottom. [illustration] the direction of the reaction is, at efficient angles of incidence, approximately at right-angles to the neutral lift line of the surface, as illustrated above; and it is, in considering flight, convenient to divide it into two component parts or values, thus: . the vertical component of the reaction, _i.e._, lift, which is opposed to gravity, _i.e._, the weight of the aeroplane. . the horizontal component, _i.e._, drift (sometimes called resistance), to which is opposed the thrust of the propeller. the direction of the reaction is, of course, the resultant of the forces lift and drift. the lift is the useful part of the reaction, for it lifts the weight of the aeroplane. the drift is the villain of the piece, and must be overcome by the thrust in order to secure the necessary velocity to produce the requisite lift for flight. drift.--the drift of the whole aeroplane (we have considered only the lifting surface heretofore) may be conveniently divided into three parts, as follows: _active drift_, which, is the drift produced by the lifting surfaces. _passive drift_, which is the drift produced by all the rest of the aeroplane--the struts, wires, fuselage, under-carriage, etc., all of which is known as "detrimental surface." _skin friction_, which is the drift produced by the friction of the air with roughness of surface. the latter is practically negligible having regard to the smooth surface of the modern aeroplane, and its comparatively slow velocity compared with, for instance, the velocity of a propeller blade. lift-drift ratio.--the proportion of lift to drift is known as the lift-drift ratio, and is of paramount importance, for it expresses _the efficiency of the aeroplane_ (as distinct from engine and propeller). a knowledge of the factors governing the lift-drift ratio is, as will be seen later, _an absolute necessity_ to anyone responsible for the rigging of an aeroplane, and the maintenance of it in an efficient and safe condition. those factors are as follows: . _velocity_.--the greater the velocity the greater the proportion of drift to lift, and consequently the less the efficiency. considering the lifting surfaces alone, both the lift and the (active) drift, being component parts of the reaction, increase as the square of the velocity, and the efficiency remains the same at all speeds. but, considering the whole aeroplane, we must remember the passive drift. it also increases as the square of the velocity (with no attendant lift), and, adding itself to the active drift, results in increasing the proportion of total drift (active + passive) to lift. but for the increase in passive drift the efficiency of the aeroplane would not fall with increasing velocity, and it would be possible, by doubling the thrust, to approximately double the speed or lift--a happy state of affairs which can never be, but which we may, in a measure, approach by doing everything possible to diminish the passive drift. every effort is then made to decrease it by "stream-lining," _i.e._, by giving all "detrimental" parts of the aeroplane a form by which they will pass through the air with the least possible drift. even the wires bracing the aeroplane together are, in many cases, stream-lined, and with a markedly good effect upon the lift-drift ratio. in the case of a certain well-known type of aeroplane the replacing of the ordinary wires by stream-lined wires added over five miles an hour to the flight speed. [illustration] _head-resistance_ is a term often applied to passive drift, but it is apt to convey a wrong impression, as the drift is not nearly so much the result of the head or forward part of struts, wires, etc., as it is of the rarefied area behind. above is illustrated the flow of air round two objects moving in the direction of the arrow m. in the case of a, you will note that the rarefied area dd is of very considerable extent; whereas in the case of b, the air flows round it in such a way as to meet very closely to the rear of the object, thus _decreasing_ dd. the greater the rarefied area dd, then, the less the density, and, consequently, the less the pressure of air upon the rear of the object. the less such pressure, then, the better is head-resistance d able to get its work in, and the more thrust will be required to overcome it. the "fineness" of the stream-line shape, _i.e._, the proportion of length to width, is determined by the velocity--the greater the velocity, the greater the fineness. the best degree of fineness for any given velocity is found by means of wind-tunnel research. the practical application of all this is, from a rigging point of view, the importance of adjusting all stream-line parts to be dead-on in the line of flight, but more of that later on. . _angle of incidence_.--the most efficient angle of incidence varies with the thrust at the disposal of the designer, the weight to be carried, and the climb-velocity ratio desired. the best angles of incidence for these varying factors are found by means of wind-tunnel research and practical trial and error. generally speaking, the greater the velocity the smaller should be the angle of incidence, in order to preserve a clean, stream-line shape of rarefied area and freedom from eddies. should the angle be too great for the velocity, then the rarefied area over the top of the surface becomes of irregular shape with attendant turbulent eddies. such eddies possess no lift value, and since it has taken power to produce them, they represent drift and adversely affect the lift-drift ratio. also, too great an angle for the velocity will result in the underside of the surface tending to compress the air against which it is driven rather than accelerate it _downwards_, and that will tend to produce drift rather than the _upwards_ reaction, or lift. from a rigging point of view, one must presume that every standard aeroplane has its lifting surface set at the most efficient angle, and the practical application of all this is in taking the greatest possible care to rig the surface at the correct angle and to maintain it at such angle. any deviation will adversely affect the lift-drift ratio, _i.e._, the efficiency. . _camber_.--(refer to the second illustration in this chapter.) the lifting surfaces are cambered, _i.e._, curved, in order to decrease the horizontal component of the reaction, _i.e._, the drift. _the bottom camber_: if the bottom of the surface was flat, every particle of air meeting it would do so with a shock, and such shock would produce a very considerable horizontal reaction or drift. by curving it such shock is diminished, and the curve should be such as to produce a uniform (not necessarily constant) acceleration and compression of the air from the leading edge to the trailing edge. any unevenness in the acceleration and compression of the air produces drift. _the top camber_: if this was flat it would produce a rarefied area of irregular shape. i have already explained the bad effect this has upon the lift-drift ratio. the top surface is then curved to produce a rarefied area the shape of which shall be as stream-line and free from attendant eddies as possible. the camber varies with the angle of incidence, the velocity, and the thickness of the surface. generally speaking, the greater the velocity, the less the camber and angle of incidence. with infinite velocity the surface would be set at no angle of incidence (the neutral lift line coincident with the direction of motion relative to the air), and would be, top and bottom, of pure stream-line form--_i.e._, of infinite fineness. this is, of course, carrying theory to absurdity as the surface would then cease to exist. the best cambers for varying velocities, angles of incidence, and thickness of surface, are found by means of wind-tunnel research. the practical application of all this is in taking the greatest care to prevent the surface from becoming distorted and thus spoiling the camber and consequently the lift-drift ratio. . _aspect ratio_.--this is the proportion of span to chord. thus, if the span is, for instance, feet and the chord feet, the surface would be said to have an aspect ratio of to . for _a given velocity_ and _a given area_ of surface, the higher the aspect ratio, the greater the reaction. it is obvious, i think, that the greater the span, the greater the mass of undisturbed air engaged, and, as already explained, the reaction is partly the result of the mass of air engaged. i say "undisturbed" advisedly, for otherwise it might be argued that, whatever the shape of the surface, the same mass of air would be engaged. the word "undisturbed" makes all the difference, for it must be remembered that the rear part of the underside of the surface engages air most of which has been deflected downwards by the surface in front of it. that being so, the rear part of the surface has not the same opportunity of forcing; the air downwards (since it is already flowing downwards) and securing there from an upwards, reaction as has the surface in front of it. it is therefore of less value for its area than the front part of the surface, since it does less work and secures less reaction--_i.e._, lift. again, the rarefied area over the top of the surface is most rare towards the front of it, as, owing to eddies, the rear of such area tends to become denser. [illustration] thus, you see, the front part of the surface is the most valuable from the point of view of securing an upwards reaction from the air; and so, by increasing the proportion of front, or "span," to chord, we increase the amount of reaction for a given velocity and area of surface. that means a better proportion of reaction to weight of surface, though the designer must not forget the drift of struts and wires necessary to brace up a surface of high aspect ratio. not only that, but, _provided_ the chord is not decreased to an extent making it impossible to secure the best camber owing to the thickness of the surface, the higher the aspect ratio, the better the lift-drift ratio. the reason of this is rather obscure. it is sometimes advanced that it is owing to the "spill" of air from under the wing-tips. with a high aspect ratio the chord is less than would otherwise be the case. less chord results in smaller wing-tips and consequently less "spill." this, however, appears to be a rather inadequate reason for the high aspect ratio producing the high lift-drift ratio. other reasons are also advanced, but they are of such a contentious nature i do not think it well to go into them here. they are of interest to designers, but this is written for the practical pilot and rigger. . _stagger_.--this is the advancement of the top surface relative to the bottom surface, and is not, of course, applicable to a single surface, _i.e._, a monoplane. in the case of a biplane having no stagger, there will be "interference" and consequent loss of efficiency unless the gap between the top and bottom surfaces is equal to not less than about - / times the chord. if less than that, the air engaged by the bottom of the top surface will have a tendency to be drawn into the rarefied area over the top of the bottom surface, with the result that the surfaces will not secure as good a reaction as would otherwise be the case. it is not practicable to have a gap of much more than a distance equal to the chord, owing to the drift produced by the great length of struts and wires such a large gap would necessitate. by staggering the top surface forward, however, it is removed from the action of the lower surface and engages undisturbed air, with the result that the efficiency can in this way be increased by about per cent. theoretically the top plane should be staggered forward for a distance equal to about per cent. of the chord, the exact distance depending upon the velocity and angle of incidence; but this is not always possible to arrange in designing an aeroplane, owing to difficulties of balance, desired position, and view of pilot, observer, etc. [illustration: h.e., horizontal equivalent. d., dihedral angle.] . _horizontal equivalent._-the vertical component of the reaction, _i.e._, lift, varies as the horizontal equivalent (h.e.) of the surface, but the drift remains the same. then it follows that if h.e. grows less, the ratio of lift to drift must do the same. a, b, and c are front views of three surfaces. a has its full h.e., and therefore, from the point of view from which we are at the moment considering efficiency, it has its best lift-drift ratio. b and c both possess the same surface as a, but one is inclined upwards from its centre and the other is straight but tilted. for these reasons their h.e.'s are, as illustrated, less than in the case of a, that means less vertical lift, and, the drift remaining the same (for there is the same amount of surface as in a to produce it), the lift-drift ratio falls. the margin of power is the power available above that necessary to maintain horizontal flight. the margin of lift is the height an aeroplane can gain in a given time and starting from a given altitude. as an example, thus: , feet the first minute, and starting from an altitude of feet above sea-level. the margin of lift decreases with altitude, owing to the decrease in the density of the air, which adversely affects the engine. provided the engine maintained its impulse with altitude, then, if we ignore the problem of the propeller, which i will go into later on, the margin of lift would not disappear. moreover, greater velocity for a given power would be secured at a greater altitude, owing to the decreased density of air to be overcome. after reading that you may like to light your pipe and indulge in dreams of the wonderful possibilities which may become realities if some brilliant genius shows us some day how to secure a constant power with increasing altitude. i am afraid, however, that will always remain impossible; but it is probable that some very interesting steps may be taken in that direction. the minimum angle of incidence is the smallest angle at which, for a given power, surface (including detrimental surface), and weight, horizontal flight can be maintained. the maximum angle of incidence is the greatest angle at which, for a given power, surface (including detrimental surface), and weight, horizontal flight can be maintained. the optimum angle of incidence is the angle at which the lift-drift ratio is highest. in modern aeroplanes it is that angle of incidence possessed by the surface when the axis of the propeller is horizontal. the best climbing angle is approximately half-way between the maximum and the optimum angles. all present-day aeroplanes are a compromise between climb and horizontal velocity. we will compare the essentials for two aeroplanes, one designed for maximum climb, and the other for maximum velocity. essentials for maximum climb: . _low velocity_, in order to secure the best lift-drift ratio. . having a low velocity, _a large surface_ will be necessary in order to engage the necessary mass of air to secure the requisite lift. [illustration] . since ( ) such a climbing machine will move along an upward sloping path, and ( ) will climb with its propeller thrust horizontal, then a _large angle relative to the direction of the thrust_ will be necessary in order to secure the requisite angle relative to the direction of motion. the propeller thrust should be always horizontal, because the most efficient flying-machine (having regard to climb or velocity) has, so far, been found to be an arrangement of an inclined surface driven by a _horizontal_ thrust--the surface lifting the weight, and the thrust overcoming the drift. this is, in practice, a far more efficient arrangement than the helicopter, _i.e._, the air-screw revolving about a vertical axis and producing a thrust opposed to gravity. if, when climbing, the propeller thrust is at such an angle as to tend to haul the aeroplane upwards, then it is, in a measure, acting as a helicopter, and that means inefficiency. the reason of a helicopter being inefficient in practice is due to the fact that, owing to mechanical difficulties, it is impossible to construct within a reasonable weight an air-screw of the requisite dimensions. that being so, it would be necessary, in order to absorb the power of the engine, to revolve the comparatively small-surfaced air screw at an immensely greater velocity than that of the aeroplane's surface. as already explained, the lift-drift ratio falls with velocity on account of the increase in passive drift. this applies to a blade of a propeller or air-screw which is nothing but a revolving surface set at angle of incidence, and which it is impossible to construct without a good deal of detrimental surface near the central boss. . the velocity being low, then it follows that for that reason also _the angle of incidence should be comparatively large_. . _camber_.--since such an aeroplane would be of low velocity, and therefore possess a large angle of incidence, a _large camber_ would be necessary. let us now consider the essentials for an aeroplane of maximum velocity for its power, and possessing merely enough lift to get off the ground, but no margin of lift. . comparatively _high velocity_. . a comparatively _small surface_, because, being of greater velocity than the maximum climber, a greater mass of air will be engaged for a given surface and time, and therefore a smaller surface will be sufficient to secure the requisite lift. . _a small angle relative to the propeller thrust_, since the latter coincides with the direction of motion. . a comparatively _small angle of incidence_ by reason of the high velocity. . a comparatively _small camber_ follows as a result of the small angle of incidence. [illustration: angles of incidence (indicated approximately) of an aeroplane designed as a compromise between velocity and climb, and possessing a slight margin of lift at a low altitude and when the thrust is horizontal.] minimum angle. this gives the greatest velocity during horizontal flight at a low altitude. greater velocity would be secured if the surface, angle, and camber were smaller and designed to just maintain horizontal flight with a horizontal thrust. also, in such case, the propeller would not be thrusting downwards, but along a horizontal line which is obviously a more efficient arrangement if we regard the aeroplane merely from one point of view, _i.e._, either with reference to velocity or climb. optimum angle. (thrust horizontal). the velocity is less than at the smaller minimum angle, and, as aeroplanes are designed to-day, the area and angle of incidence of the surface is such as to secure a slight ascent at a low altitude. the camber of the surface is designed for this angle of incidence and velocity. the lift-drift ratio is best at this angle. best climbing angle. the velocity is now still less by reason of the increased angle producing increase of drift. less velocity at a given angle produces less lift, but the increased angle more or less offsets the loss of lift due to the decreased velocity; and, in addition, the thrust is now hauling the aeroplane upwards. maximum angle. the greater angle has now produced so much drift as to lessen the velocity to a point where the combined lifts from the surface and from the thrust are only just able to maintain horizontal flight. any greater angle will result in a still lower lift-drift ratio. the lift will then become less than the weight and the aeroplane will consequently fall. such a fall is known as "stalling" or "pancaking." =note.--the golden rule for beginners: never exceed the best climbing angle. always maintain the flying speed of the aeroplane.= summary. _essentials for maximum climb._ . low velocity. . large surface. . large angle relative to propeller thrust. . large angle relative to direction of motion. . large camber. _essentials for maximum velocity._ . high velocity. . small surface. . small angle relative to propeller thrust. . small angle relative to direction of motion. . small camber. it is mechanically impossible to construct an aeroplane of reasonable weight of which it would be possible to vary the above opposing essentials. therefore, all aeroplanes are designed as a compromise between climb and velocity. as a rule aeroplanes are designed to have at low altitude a slight margin of lift when the propeller thrust is horizontal. by this means, when the altitude is reached where the margin of lift disappears (on account of loss of engine power), and which is, consequently, the altitude where it is just possible to maintain horizontal flight, the aeroplane is flying with its thrust horizontal and with maximum efficiency (as distinct from engine and propeller efficiency). the margin of lift at low altitude, and when the thrust is horizontal, should then be such that the higher altitude at which the margin of lift is lost is that altitude at which most of the aeroplane's horizontal flight work is done. that ensures maximum velocity when most required. unfortunately, where aeroplanes designed for fighting are concerned, the altitude where most of the work is done is that at which both maximum velocity and maximum margin of lift for power are required. perhaps some day a brilliant inventor will design an aeroplane of reasonable weight and drift of which it will be possible for the pilot to vary at will the above-mentioned opposing essentials. then we shall get maximum velocity, or maximum margin of lift, for power as required. until then the design of the aeroplane must remain a compromise between velocity and climb. [footnote : see newton's laws in the glossary at the end of the book.] [footnote : see "aerofoil" in the glossary.] chapter ii stability and control stability is a condition whereby an object disturbed has a natural tendency to return to its first and normal position. example: a weight suspended by a cord. instability is a condition whereby an object disturbed has a natural tendency to move as far as possible away from its first position, with no tendency to return. example: a stick balanced vertically upon your finger. neutral instability is a condition whereby an object disturbed has no tendency to move farther than displaced by the force of the disturbance, and no tendency to return to its first position. in order that an aeroplane may be reasonably controllable, it is necessary for it to possess some degree of stability longitudinally, laterally, and directionally. longitudinal stability in an aeroplane is its stability about an axis transverse to the direction of normal horizontal flight, and without which it would pitch and toss. lateral stability is its stability about its longitudinal axis, and without which it would roll sideways. directional stability is its stability about its vertical axis, and without which it would have no tendency to keep its course. for such directional stability to exist there must be, in effect,[ ] more "keel-surface" behind the vertical axis than there is in front of it. by keel-surface i mean everything to be seen when looking at an aeroplane from the side of it--the sides of the body, undercarriage, struts, wires, etc. the same thing applies to a weathercock. you know what would happen if there was insufficient keel-surface behind the vertical axis upon which it is pivoted. it would turn off its proper course, which is opposite to the direction of the wind. it is very much the same in the case of an aeroplane. [illustration] the above illustration represents an aeroplane (directionally stable) flying along the course b. a gust striking it as indicated acts upon the greater proportion of keel-surface behind the turning axis and throws it into the new course. it does not, however, travel along the new course, owing to its momentum in the direction b. it travels, as long as such momentum lasts, in a direction which is the resultant of the two forces thrust and momentum. but the centre line of the aeroplane is pointing in the direction of the new course. therefore its attitude, relative to the direction of motion, is more or less sideways, and it consequently receives an air pressure in the direction c. such pressure, acting upon the keel-surface, presses the tail back towards its first position in which the aeroplane is upon its course b. what i have described is continually going on during flight, but in a well-designed aeroplane such stabilizing movements are, most of the time, so slight as to be imperceptible to the pilot. if an aeroplane was not stabilized in this way, it would not only be continually trying to leave its course, but it would also possess a dangerous tendency to "nose away" from the direction of the side gusts. in such case the gust shown in the above illustration would turn the aeroplane round the opposite way a very considerable distance; and the right wing, being on the outside of the turn, would travel with greater velocity than the left wing. increased velocity means increased lift; and so, the right wing lifting, the aeroplane would turn over sideways very quickly. longitudinal stability.--flat surfaces are longitudinally stable owing to the fact that with decreasing angles of incidence the centre line of pressure (c.p.) moves forward. the c.p. is a line taken across the surface, transverse to the direction of motion, and about which all the air forces may be said to balance, or through which they may be said to act. [illustration] imagine a to be a flat surface, attitude vertical, travelling through the air in the direction of motion m. its c.p. is then obviously along the exact centre line of the surface as illustrated. in b, c, and d the surfaces are shown with angles of incidence decreasing to nothing, and you will note that the c.p. moves forward with the decreasing angle.[ ] now, should some gust or eddy tend to make the surface decrease the angle, _i.e._, dive, then the c.p. moves forward and pushes the front of the surface up. should the surface tend to assume too large an angle, then the reverse happens--the c.p. moves back and pushes the rear of the surface up. flat surfaces are, then, theoretically stable longitudinally. they are not, however, used, on account of their poor lift-drift ratio. as already explained, cambered surfaces are used, and these are longitudinally unstable at those angles of incidence producing a reasonable lift-drift ratio, _i.e._, at angles below about °. a is a cambered surface, attitude approximately vertical, moving through the air in the direction m. obviously the c.p. coincides with the transverse centre line of the surface. with decreasing angles, down to angles of about °, the c.p. moves forward as in the case of flat surfaces (see b); but angles above ° do not interest us, since they produce a very low ratio of lift to drift. [illustration] below angles of about ° (see c) the dipping front part of the surface assumes a negative angle of incidence resulting in the _downward_ air pressure d, and the more the angle of incidence is decreased, the greater such negative angle and its resultant pressure d. since the c.p. is the resultant of all the air forces, its position is naturally affected by d, which causes it to move backwards. now, should some gust or eddy tend to make the surface decrease its angle of incidence, _i.e._, dive, then the c.p. moves backwards, and, pushing up the rear of the surface, causes it to dive the more. should the surface tend to assume too large an angle, then the reverse happens; the pressure d decreases, with the result that c.p. moves forward and pushes up the front of the surface, thus increasing the angle still further, the final result being a "tail-slide." it is therefore necessary to find a means of stabilizing the naturally unstable cambered surface. this is usually secured by means of a stabilizing surface fixed some distance in the rear of the main surface, and it is a necessary condition that the neutral lift lines of the two surfaces, when projected to meet each other, make a dihedral angle. in other words, the rear stabilizing surface must have a lesser angle of incidence than the main surface--certainly not more than one-third of that of the main surface. this is known as the longitudinal dihedral. [illustration] i may add that the tail-plane is sometimes mounted upon the aeroplane at the same angle as the main surface, but, in such cases, it attacks air which has received a downward deflection from the main surface, thus: [illustration] the angle at which the tail surface attacks the air (the angle of incidence) is therefore less than the angle of incidence of the main surface. i will now, by means of the following illustration, try to explain how the longitudinal dihedral secures stability: [illustration] first, imagine the aeroplane travelling in the direction of motion, which coincides with the direction of thrust t. the weight is, of course, balanced about a c.p., the resultant of the c.p. of the main surface and the c.p. of the stabilizing surface. for the sake of illustration, the stabilizing surface has been given an angle of incidence, and therefore has a lift and c.p. in practice the stabilizer is often set at no angle of incidence. in such case the proposition remains the same, but it is, perhaps, a little easier to illustrate it as above. now, we will suppose that a gust or eddy throws the machine into the lower position. it no longer travels in the direction of t, since the momentum in the old direction pulls it off that course. m is now the resultant of the thrust and the momentum, and you will note that this results in a decrease in the angle our old friend the neutral lift line makes with m, _i.e._, a decrease in the angle of incidence and therefore a decrease in lift. we will suppose that this decrease is °. such decrease applies to both main surface and stabilizer, since both are fixed rigidly to the aeroplane. the main surface, which had ° angle, has now only °, _i.e._, a loss of _one-sixth_. the stabilizer, which had ° angle, has now only °, _i.e._, a loss of _one-half_. the latter has therefore lost a greater _proportion_ of its angle of incidence, and consequently its lift, than has the main surface. it must then fall relative to the main surface. the tail falling, the aeroplane then assumes its first position, though at a slightly less altitude. should a gust throw the nose of the aeroplane up, then the reverse happens. both main surface and stabilizer increase their angles of incidence in the same amount, but the angle, and therefore the lift, of the stabilizer increases in greater proportion than does the angle and lift of the main surface, with the result that it lifts the tail. the aeroplane then assumes its first position, though at a slightly greater altitude. do not fall into the widespread error that the angle of incidence varies as the angle of the aeroplane to the horizontal. it varies with such angle, but not as anything approaching it. remember that the stabilizing effect of the longitudinal dihedral lasts only as long as there is momentum in the direction of the first course. these stabilizing movements are taking place all the time, even though imperceptible to the pilot. aeroplanes have, in the past, been built with a stabilizing surface in front of the main surface instead of at the rear of it. in such design the main surface (which is then the tail surface as well as the principal lifting surface) must be set at a less angle than the forward stabilizing surface, in order to secure a longitudinal dihedral. the defect of such design lies in the fact that the main surface must have a certain angle to lift the weight--say °. then, in order to secure a sufficiency of longitudinal stability, it is necessary to set the forward stabilizer at about °. such a large angle of incidence results in a very poor lift-drift ratio (and consequently great loss of efficiency), except at very low velocities compared with the speed of modern aeroplanes. at the time such aeroplanes were built velocities were comparatively low, and this defect was, for that reason, not sufficiently appreciated. in the end it killed the "canard" or "tail-first" design. aeroplanes of the dunne and similar types possess no stabilizing surface distinct from the main surface, but they have a longitudinal dihedral which renders them stable. the main surface towards the wing-tips is given a decreasing angle of incidence and corresponding camber. the wing-tips then act as longitudinal stabilizers. [illustration] this design of aeroplane, while very interesting, has not proved very practicable, owing to the following disadvantages: ( ) the plan design is not, from a mechanical point of view, so sound as that of the ordinary aeroplane surface, which is, in plan, a parallelogram. it is, then, necessary to make the strength of construction greater than would otherwise be the case. that means extra weight. ( ) the plan of the surface area is such that the aspect ratio is not so high as if the surface was arranged with its leading edges at right angles to the direction of motion. the lower the aspect ratio, then, the less the lift. this design, then, produces less lift for weight of surface than would the same surface if arranged as a parallelogram. ( ) in order to secure the longitudinal dihedral, the angle of incidence has to be very much decreased towards the wing-tips. then, in order that the lift-drift ratio may be preserved, there must be a corresponding decrease in the camber. that calls for surface ribs of varying cambers, and results in an expensive and lengthy job for the builder. ( ) in order to secure directional stability, the surface is, in the centre, arranged to dip down in the form of a v, pointing towards the direction of motion. should the aeroplane turn off its course, then its momentum in the direction of its first course causes it to move in a direction the resultant of the thrust and the momentum. it then moves in a more or less sideways attitude, which results in an air pressure upon one side of the v, and which tends to turn the aeroplane back to its first course. this arrangement of the surface results in a bad drift. vertical surfaces at the wing-tips may also be set at an angle producing the same stabilizing effect, but they also increase the drift. the gyroscopic action of a rotary engine will affect the longitudinal stability when an aeroplane is turned to right or left. in the case of a gnome engine, fitted to a "pusher" aeroplane, such gyroscopic action will tend to depress the nose of the aeroplane when it is turned to the left, and to elevate it when it is turned to the right. when fitted to a "tractor" aeroplane, the engine is reversed so that a reverse condition results. in modern aeroplanes this tendency is not sufficiently important to bother about, except in the matter of spiral descents (see section headed "spinning"). in the old days of crudely designed and under-powered "pusher" aeroplanes this gyroscopic action was very marked, and led the majority of pilots to dislike turning an aeroplane to the right, since, in doing so, there was some danger of "stalling." lateral stability is far more difficult for the designer to secure than is longitudinal or directional stability. some degree of lateral stability may be secured by means of the "lateral dihedral," _i.e._, the upward inclination of the surface towards its wing-tips thus: [illustration] imagine the top =v=, illustrated opposite, to be the front view of a surface flying towards you. the horizontal equivalent (h.e.) of the left wing is the same as that of the right wing. therefore, the lift of one wing is equal to the lift of the other, and the weight, being situated always in the centre, is balanced. if some movement of the air causes the surface to tilt sideways, as in the lower illustration, then you will note that the h.e. of the left wing increases, and the h.e. of the right wing decreases. the left wing then, having the greatest lift, rises; and the surface assumes its first and normal position. unfortunately, however, the righting effect is not proportional to the difference between the right and left h.e.'s. [illustration: r, direction of reaction of wing indicated. r r, resultant direction of reaction of both wings. m, horizontal (sideway) component of reaction. l, vertical component of reaction (lift).] in the case of a, the resultant direction of the reaction of both wings is opposed to the direction of gravity or weight. the two forces r r and gravity are then evenly balanced, and the surface is in a state of equilibrium. in the case of b, you will note that the r r is not directly opposed to gravity. this results in the appearance of m, and so the resultant direction of motion of the aeroplane is no longer directly forward, but is along a line the resultant of the thrust and m. in other words, it is, while flying forward, at the same time moving sideways in the direction m. in moving sideways, the keel-surface receives, of course, a pressure from the air equal and opposite to m. since such surface is greatest in effect towards the tail, then the latter must be pushed sideways. that causes the aeroplane to turn; and, the highest wing being on the outside of the turn, it has a greater velocity than the lower wing. that produces greater lift, and tends to tilt the aeroplane over still more. such tilting tendency is, however, opposed by the difference in the h.e.'s of the two wings. it then follows that, for the lateral dihedral angle to be effective, such angle must be large enough to produce, when the aeroplane tilts, a difference in the h.e.'s of the two wings, which difference must be sufficient to not only oppose the tilting tendency due to the aeroplane turning, but sufficient to also force the aeroplane back to its original position of equilibrium. it is now, i hope, clear to the reader that the lateral dihedral is not quite so effective as would appear at first sight. some designers, indeed, prefer not to use it, since its effect is not very great, and since it must be paid for in loss of h.e. and consequently loss of lift, thus decreasing the lift-drift ratio, _i.e._, the efficiency. also, it is sometimes advanced that the lateral dihedral increases the "spill" of air from the wing-tips and that this adversely affects the lift-drift ratio. _the disposition of the keel-surface_ affects the lateral stability. it should be, in effect, equally divided by the longitudinal turning axis of the aeroplane. if there is an excess of keel-surface above or below such axis, then a side gust striking it will tend to turn the aeroplane over sideways. _the position of the centre of gravity_ affects lateral stability. if too low, it produces a pendulum effect and causes the aeroplane to roll sideways. if too high, it acts as a stick balanced vertically would act. if disturbed, it tends to travel to a position as far as possible from its original position. it would then tend, when moved, to turn the aeroplane over sideways and into an upside-down position. from the point of view of lateral stability, the best position for the centre of gravity is one a little below the centre of drift. this produces a little lateral stability without any marked pendulum effect. _propeller torque_ affects lateral stability. an aeroplane tends to turn over sideways in the opposite direction to which the propeller revolves. [illustration] this tendency is offset by increasing the angle of incidence (and consequently the lift) of the side tending to fall; and it is always advisable, if practical considerations allow it, to also decrease the angle upon the other side. in that way it is not necessary to depart so far from the normal angle of incidence at which the lift-drift ratio is highest. _wash-in_ is the term applied to the increased angle. _wash-out_ is the term applied to the decreased angle. both lateral and directional stability may be improved by washing out the angle of incidence on both sides of the surface, thus: [illustration] the decreased angle decreases the drift and therefore the effect of gusts upon the wing-tips, which is just where they have the most effect upon the aeroplane, owing to the distance from the turning axis. the wash-out also renders the ailerons (lateral controlling services) more effective, as, in order to operate them, it is not then necessary to give them such a large angle of incidence as would otherwise be required. [illustration: note: observe that the inclination of the ailerons to the surface is the same in each case.] the less the angle of incidence of the ailerons, the better their lift-drift ratio, i.e., their efficiency. you will note that, while the aileron attached to the surface with washed-out angle is operated to the same extent as the aileron illustrated above it, its angle of incidence is considerably less. its efficiency is therefore greater. the advantages of the wash-in must, of course, be paid for in some loss of lift, as the lift decreases with the decreased angle. in order to secure all the above described advantages, a combination is sometimes effected, thus: [illustration: "wash out" on both sides relative to the centre.] banking.--an aeroplane turned off its course to right or left does not at once proceed along its new course. its momentum in the direction of its first course causes it to travel along a line the resultant of such momentum and the thrust. in other words, it more or less skids sideways and away from the centre of the turn. its lifting surfaces do not then meet the air in their correct attitude, and the lift may fall to such an extent as to become less than the weight, in which case the aeroplane must fall. this bad effect is minimized by "banking," _i.e._, tilting the aeroplane sideways. the bottom of the lifting surface is in that way opposed to the air through which it is moving in the direction of the momentum and receives an opposite air pressure. the rarefied area over the top of the surface is rendered still more rare, and this, of course, assists the air pressure in opposing the momentum. the velocity of the "skid," or sideways movement, is then only such as is necessary to secure an air pressure equal and opposite to the centrifugal force of the turn. the sharper the turn, the greater the effect of the centrifugal force, and therefore the steeper should be the "bank." _experientia docet_. _the position of the centre of gravity_ affects banking. a low c.g. will tend to swing outward from the centre of the turn, and will cause the aeroplane to bank--perhaps too much, in which case the pilot must remedy matters by operating the ailerons. a high c.g. also tends to swing outward from the centre of the turn. it will tend to make the aeroplane bank the wrong way, and such effect must be remedied by means of the ailerons. the pleasantest machine from a banking point of view is one in which the c.g. is a little below the centre of drift. it tends to bank the aeroplane the right way for the turn, and the pilot can, if necessary, perfect the bank by means of the ailerons. _the disposition of the keel-surface_ affects banking. it should be, in effect, evenly divided by the longitudinal axis. an excess of keel-surface above the longitudinal axis will, when banking, receive an air pressure causing the aeroplane to bank, perhaps too much. an excess of keel-surface below the axis has the reverse effect. side-slipping.--this usually occurs as a result of over-banking. it is always the result of the aeroplane tilting sideways and thus decreasing the horizontal equivalent, and therefore the lift, of the surface. an excessive "bank," or sideways tilt, results in the h.e., and therefore the lift, becoming less than the weight, when, of course, the aeroplane must fall, _i.e._, side-slip. [illustration] when making a very sharp turn it is necessary to bank very steeply indeed. if, at the same time, the longitudinal axis of the aeroplane remains approximately horizontal, then there must be a fall, and the direction of motion will be the resultant of the thrust and the fall as illustrated above in sketch a. the lifting surfaces and the controlling surfaces are not then meeting the air in the correct attitude, with the result that, in addition to falling, the aeroplane will probably become quite unmanageable. the pilot, however, prevents such a state of affairs from happening by "nosing-down," _i.e._, by operating the rudder to turn the nose of the aeroplane downward and towards the direction of motion as illustrated in sketch b. this results in the higher wing, which is on the outside of the turn, travelling with greater velocity, and therefore securing a greater reaction than the lower wing, thus tending to tilt the aeroplane over still more. the aeroplane is now almost upside-down, _but_ its attitude relative to the direction of motion is correct and the controlling surfaces are all of them working efficiently. the recovery of a normal attitude relative to the earth is then made as illustrated in sketch c. the pilot must then learn to know just the angle of bank at which the margin of lift is lost, and, if a sharp turn necessitates banking beyond that angle, he must "nose-down." in this matter of banking and nosing-down, and, indeed, regarding stability and control generally, the golden rule for all but very experienced pilots should be: _keep the aeroplane in such an attitude that the air pressure is always directly in the pilot's face._ the aeroplane is then always engaging the air as designed to do so, and both lifting and controlling surfaces are acting efficiently. the only exception to this rule is a vertical dive, and i think that is obviously not an attitude for any but very experienced pilots to hanker after. spinning.--this is the worst of all predicaments the pilot can find himself in. fortunately it rarely happens. it is due to the combination of ( ) a very steep spiral descent of small radius, and ( ) insufficiency of keel-surface behind the vertical axis, or the jamming of the rudder and/or elevator into a position by which the aeroplane is forced into an increasingly steep and small spiral. owing to the small radius of such a spiral, the mass of the aeroplane may gain a rotary momentum greater, in effect, than the air pressure of the keel-surface or controlling surfaces opposed to it; and, when once such a condition occurs, it is difficult to see what can be done by the pilot to remedy it. the sensible pilot will not go beyond reasonable limits of steepness and radius when executing spiral descents. [illustration: nose dive spin.] in this connection every pilot of an aeroplane fitted with a rotary engine should bear in mind the gyroscopic effect of such engine. in the case of such an engine fitted to a "pusher" aeroplane, its effect when a left-hand turn is made is to depress the nose of the machine. if fitted to a "tractor" it is reversed, so the effect is to depress the nose if a right-hand turn is made. the sharper the turn, the greater such effect--an effect which may render the aeroplane unmanageable if the spiral is one of very small radius and the engine is revolving with sufficient speed to produce a material gyroscopic effect. such gyroscopic effect should, however, slightly _assist_ the pilot to navigate a small spiral if he will remember to ( ) make _right-hand_ spirals in the case of a "pusher," ( ) make _left-hand_ spirals in the case of a "tractor." the effect will then be to keep the nose up and prevent a nose-dive. i say "slightly" assist because the engine is, of course, throttled down for a spiral descent, and its lesser revolutions will produce a lesser gyroscopic effect. on the other hand, it might be argued that if the aeroplane gets into a "spin," anything tending to depress the nose of the machine is of value, since it is often claimed that the best way to get out of a spin is to put the machine into a nose-dive--the great velocity of the dive rendering the controls more efficient and better enabling the pilot to regain control. it is, however, a very contentious point, and few are able to express opinions based on practice, since pilots indulging in nose-dive spins are either not heard of again or have usually but a hazy recollection of exactly what happened to them. gliding descent without propeller thrust.--all aeroplanes are, or should be, designed to assume their correct gliding angle when the power and thrust is cut off. this relieves the pilot of work, worry, and danger should he find himself in a fog or cloud. the pilot, although he may not realize it, maintains the correct attitude of the aeroplane by observing its position relative to the horizon. flying into a fog or cloud the horizon is lost to view, and he must then rely upon his instruments--( ) the compass for direction; ( ) an inclinometer (arched spirit-level) mounted transversely to the longitudinal axis, for lateral stability; and ( ) an inclinometer mounted parallel to the longitudinal axis, or the airspeed indicator, which will indicate a nose-down position by increase in air speed, and a tail-down position by decrease in air speed. the pilot is then under the necessity of watching three instruments and manipulating his three controls to keep the instruments indicating longitudinal, lateral, and directional stability. that is a feat beyond the capacity of the ordinary man. if, however, by the simple movement of throttling down the power and thrust, he can be relieved of looking after the longitudinal stability, he then has only two instruments to watch. that is no small job in itself, but it is, at any rate, fairly practicable. [illustration] aeroplanes are, then, designed, or should be, so that the centre of gravity is slightly forward of centre of lift. the aeroplane is then, as a glider, nose-heavy--and the distance the c.g. is placed in advance of the c.l. should be such as to ensure a gliding angle producing a velocity the same as the normal flying speed (for which the strength of construction has been designed). in order that this nose-heavy tendency should not exist when the thrust is working and descent not required, the centre of thrust is placed a little below the centre of drift or resistance, and thus tends to pull up the nose of the aeroplane. the distance the centre of thrust is placed below the centre of drift should be such as to produce a force equal and opposite to that due to the c.g. being forward of the c.l. (see illustration above). looping and upside-down flying.--if a loop is desired, it is best to throttle the engine down at point a. the c.g. being forward of the c.p., then causes the aeroplane to nose down, and assists the pilot in making a reasonably small loop along the course c and in securing a quick recovery. if the engine is not throttled down, then the aeroplane may be expected to follow the course d, which results in a longer nose dive than in the case of the course c. [illustration: position a. path b. path c. path d.] a steady, gentle movement of the elevator is necessary. a jerky movement may change the direction of motion so suddenly as to produce dangerous air stresses upon the surfaces, in which case there is a possibility of collapse. if an upside-down flight is desired, the engine may, or may not, be throttled down at point a. if not throttled down, then the elevator must be operated to secure a course approximately in the direction b. if it is throttled down, then the course must be one of a steeper angle than b, or there will be danger of stalling. [footnote : "in effect" because, although there may be actually the greatest proportion of keel-surface in front of the vertical axis, such surface may be much nearer to the axis than is the keel-surface towards the tail. the latter may then be actually less than the surface in front, but, being farther from the axis, it has a greater leverage, and consequently is greater in effect than the surface in front.] [footnote : the reason the c.p. of an inclined surface is forward of the centre of the surface is because the front of the surface does most of the work, as explained on p. .] chapter iii rigging in order to rig an aeroplane intelligently, and to maintain it in an efficient and safe condition, it is necessary to possess a knowledge of the stresses it is called upon to endure, and the strains likely to appear. stress is the load or burden a body is called upon to bear. it is usually expressed by the result found by dividing the load by the number of superficial square inches contained in the cross-sectional area of the body. [illustration: cross sectional area] thus, if, for instance, the object illustrated above contains square inches of cross-sectional area, and the total load it is called upon to endure is tons, the stress would be expressed as - / tons. strain is the deformation produced by stress. the factor of safety is usually expressed by the result found by dividing the stress at which it is known the body will collapse by the maximum stress it will be called upon to endure. for instance, if a control wire be called upon to endure a maximum stress of cwts., and the known stress at which it will collapse is cwts., the factor of safety is then . compression.--the simple stress of compression tends to produce a crushing strain. example: the interplane and fuselage struts. tension.--the simple stress of tension tends to produce the strain of elongation. example: all the wires. bending.--the compound stress of bending is a combination of compression and tension. [illustration] the above sketch illustrates a straight piece of wood of which the top, centre, and bottom lines are of equal length. we will now imagine it bent to form a circle, thus: [illustration] the centre line is still the same length as before being bent; but the top line, being farther from the centre of the circle, is now longer than the centre line. that can be due only to the strain of elongation produced by the stress of tension. the wood between the centre line and the top line is then in tension; and the farther from the centre, the greater the strain, and consequently the greater the tension. the bottom line, being nearest to the centre of the circle, is now shorter than the centre line. that can be due only to the strain of crushing produced by the stress of compression. the wood between the centre and bottom lines is then in compression; and the nearer the centre of the circle, the greater the strain, and consequently the greater the compression. it then follows that there is neither tension nor compression, _i.e._, no stress, at the centre line, and that the wood immediately surrounding it is under considerably less stress than the wood farther away. this being so, the wood in the centre may be hollowed out without unduly weakening struts and spars. in this way to per cent. is saved in the weight of wood in an aeroplane. the strength of wood is in its fibres, which should, as far as possible, run without break from one end of a strut or spar to the other end. a point to remember is that the outside fibres, being farthest removed from the centre line, are doing by far the greatest work. shear stress is such that, when material collapses under it, one part slides over the other. example: all the locking pins. [illustration] some of the bolts are also in shear or "sideways" stress, owing to lugs under their heads and from which wires are taken. such a wire, exerting a sideways pull upon a bolt, tries to break it in such a way as to make one piece of the bolt slide over the other piece. torsion.--this is a twisting stress compounded of compression, tension, and shear stresses. example: the propeller shaft. nature of wood under stress.--wood, for its weight, takes the stress of compression far better than any other stress. for instance: a walking-stick of less than lb. in weight will, if kept perfectly straight, probably stand up to a compression stress of a ton or more before crushing; whereas, if the same stick is put under a bending stress, it will probably collapse to a stress of not more than about lb. that is a very great difference, and, since weight is of the greatest importance, the design of an aeroplane is always such as to, as far as possible, keep the various wooden parts of its construction in direct compression. weight being of such vital importance, and designers all trying to outdo each other in saving weight, it follows that the factor of safety is rather low in an aeroplane. the parts in direct compression will, however, take the stresses safely provided the following conditions are carefully observed. conditions to be observed: . _all the spars and struts must be perfectly straight._ [illustration] the above sketch illustrates a section through an interplane strut. if the strut is to be kept straight, _i.e._, prevented from bending, then the stress of compression must be equally disposed about the centre of strength. if it is not straight, then there will be more compression on one side of the centre of strength than on the other side. that is a step towards getting compression on one side and tension on the other side, in which case it may be forced to take a bending stress for which it is not designed. even if it does not collapse it will, in effect, become shorter, and thus throw out of adjustment the gap and all the wires attached to the top and bottom of the strut, with the result that the flight efficiency of the aeroplane will be spoiled. [illustration: strut straight. wires and gap correctly adjusted. strut bent throwing wires and gap out of adjustment.] the only exception to the above condition is what is known as the arch. for instance, in the case of the maurice farman, the spars of the centre-section plane, which have to take the weight of the nacelle, are arched upwards. if this was not done, it is possible that rough landings might result in the weight causing the spars to become slightly distorted downwards. that would produce a dangerous bending stress, but, as long as the wood is arched, or, at any rate, kept from bending downwards, it will remain in direct compression and no danger can result. . _struts and spars must be symmetrical._ by that i mean that the cross-sectional dimensions must be correct, as otherwise there will be bulging places on the outside, with the result that the stress will not be evenly disposed about the centre of strength, and a bending stress may be produced. . _struts, spars, etc., must be undamaged._ remember that, from what i have already explained about bending stresses, the outside fibres of the wood are doing by far the most work. if these get bruised or scored, then the strut or spar suffers in strength much more than one might think at first sight; and, if it ever gets a tendency to bend, it is likely to collapse at that point. . _the wood must have a good, clear grain with no cross-grain, knots, or shakes._ such blemishes produce weak places and, if a tendency to bend appears, then it may collapse at such a point. [illustration: strut bedded properly. strut bedded badly.] . _the struts, spars, etc., must be properly bedded into their sockets or fittings._ to begin with, they must be of good pushing or gentle tapping fit. they must never be driven in with a heavy hammer. then again, a strut must bed well down all over its cross-sectional area as illustrated above; otherwise the stress of compression will not be evenly disposed about the centre of strength, and that may produce a bending stress. the bottom of the strut or spar should be covered with some sort of paint, bedded into the socket or fitting, and then withdrawn to see if the paint has stuck all over the bed. . the atmosphere is sometimes much damper than at other times, and this causes wood to expand and contract appreciably. this would not matter but for the fact that it does not expand and contract uniformly, but becomes unsymmetrical, _i.e._, distorted. i have already explained the danger of that in condition . this should be minimized by _well varnishing the wood_ to keep the moisture out of it. function of interplane struts.--these struts have to keep the lifting surfaces or "planes" apart, but this is only part of their work. they must keep the planes apart, so that the latter are in their correct attitude. that is only so when the spars of the bottom plane are parallel with those of the top plane. also, the chord of the top plane must be parallel with the chord of the bottom plane. if that is not so, then one plane will not have the same angle of incidence as the other one. at first sight one might think that all that is necessary is to cut all the struts to be the same length, but that is not the case. [illustration] sometimes, as illustrated above, the rear spar is not so thick as the main spar, and it is then necessary to make up for that difference by making the rear struts correspondingly longer. if that is not done, then the top and bottom chords will not be parallel, and the top and bottom planes will have different angles of incidence. also, the sockets or fittings, or even the spars upon which they are placed, sometimes vary in thickness owing to faulty manufacture. this must be offset by altering the length of the struts. the best way to proceed is to measure the distance between the top and bottom spars by the side of each strut, and if that distance, or "gap" as it is called, is not as stated in the aeroplane's specifications, then make it correct by changing the length of the strut. this applies to both front and rear interplane struts. when measuring the gap, always be careful to measure from the centre of the spar, as it may be set at an angle, and the rear of it may be considerably lower than its front. boring holes in wood.--it should be a strict rule that no spar be used which has an unnecessary hole in it. before boring a hole, its position should be confirmed by whoever is in charge of the workshop. a bolt-hole should be of a size to enable the bolt to be pushed in, or, at any rate, not more than gently tapped in. bolts should not be hammered in, as that may split the spar. on the other hand, a bolt should not be slack in its hole, as, in such a case, it may work sideways and split the spar, not to speak of throwing out of adjustment the wires leading from the lug or socket under the bolt-head. washers.--under the bolt-head, and also under the nut, a washer must be placed--a very large washer compared with the size which would be used in all-metal construction. this is to disperse the stress over a large area; otherwise the washer may be pulled into the wood and weaken it, besides possibly throwing out of adjustment the wires attached to the bolt or the fitting it is holding to the spar. locking.--now as regards locking the bolts. if split pins are used, be sure to see that they are used in such a way that the nut cannot possibly unscrew at all. the split pin should be passed through the bolt as near as possible to the nut. it should not be passed through both nut and bolt. if it is locked by burring over the edge of the bolt, do not use a heavy hammer and try to spread the whole head of the bolt. that might damage the woodwork inside the fabric-covered surface. use a small, light hammer, and gently tap round the edge of the bolt until it is burred over. turnbuckles.--a turnbuckle is composed of a central barrel into each end of which is screwed an eye-bolt. wires are taken from the eyes of the eye-bolt, and so, by turning the barrel, they can be adjusted to their proper tension. eye-bolts must be a good fit in the barrel; that is to say, not slack and not very tight. theoretically it is not necessary to screw the eye-bolt into the barrel for a distance greater than the diameter of the bolt, but, in practice, it is better to screw it in for a considerably greater distance than that if a reasonable degree of safety is to be secured. now about turning the barrel to secure the right adjustment. the barrel looks solid, but, as a matter of fact, it is hollow and much more frail than it appears. for that reason it should not be turned by seizing it with pliers, as that may distort it and spoil the bore within it. the best method is to pass a piece of wire through the hole in its centre, and to use that as a lever. when the correct adjustment has been secured, the turnbuckle must be locked to prevent it from unscrewing. it is quite possible to lock it in such a way as to allow it to unscrew a quarter or a half turn, and that would throw the wires out of the very fine adjustment necessary. the proper way is to use the locking wire so that its direction is such as to oppose the tendency of the barrel to unscrew, thus: [illustration] wires.--the following points should be carefully observed where wire is concerned: . _quality._--it must not be too hard or too soft. an easy practical way of learning to know the approximate quality of wire is as follows: take three pieces, all of the same gauge, and each about a foot in length. one piece should be too soft, another too hard, and the third piece of the right quality. fix them in a vice, about an inch apart and in a vertical position, and with the light from a window shining upon them. burnish them if necessary, and you will see a band of light reflected from each wire. now bend the wires over as far as possible and away from the light. where the soft wire is concerned, it will squash out at the bend, and this will be indicated by the band of light, which will broaden at that point. in the case of the wire which is too hard, the band of light will broaden very little at the turn, but, if you look carefully, you will see some little roughness of surface. in the case of the wire of the right quality, the band of light may broaden a very little at the turn, but there will be no roughness of surface. by making this experiment two or three times one can soon learn to know really bad wire from good, and also learn to know the strength of hand necessary to bend the right quality. . _it must not be damaged._ that is to say, it must be unkinked, rustless, and unscored. . now as regards keeping wire in good condition. where outside wires are concerned, they should be kept _well greased or oiled_, especially where bent over at the ends. internal bracing wires cannot be reached for the purpose of regreasing them, as they are inside fabric-covered surfaces. they should be prevented from rusting by being painted with an anti-rust mixture. great care should be taken to see that the wire is perfectly clean and dry before being painted. a greasy finger-mark is sufficient to stop the paint from sticking to the wire. in such a case there will be a little space between the paint and the wire. air may enter there and cause the wire to rust. . _tension of wires._--the tension to which the wires are adjusted is of the greatest importance. all the wires should be of the same tension when the aeroplane is supported in such a way as to throw no stress upon them. if some wires are in greater tension than others, the aeroplane will quickly become distorted and lose its efficiency. in order to secure the same tension of all wires, the aeroplane, when being rigged, should be supported by packing underneath the lower surfaces as well as by packing underneath the fuselage or nacelle. in this way the anti-lift wires are relieved of the weight, and there is no stress upon any of the wires. as a general rule the wires of an aeroplane are tensioned too much. the tension should be sufficient to keep the framework rigid. anything more than that lowers the factor of safety, throws various parts of the framework into undue compression, pulls the fittings into the wood, and will, in the end, distort the whole framework of the aeroplane. only experience will teach the rigger what tension to employ. much may be done by learning the construction of the various types of aeroplanes, the work the various parts do, and in cultivating a touch for tensioning wires by constantly handling them. . _wires with no opposition wires._--in some few cases wires will be found which have no opposition wires pulling in the opposite direction. for instance, an auxiliary lift wire may run from the bottom of a strut to a spar in the top plane at a point between struts. in such a case great care should be taken not to tighten the wire beyond barely taking up the slack. [illustration: distortion of upper wing caused by auxiliary lift wire being too tight.] such a wire must be a little slack, or, as illustrated above, it will distort the framework. that, in the example given, will spoil the camber (curvature) of the surface, and result in changing both the lift and the drift at that part of the surface. such a condition will cause the aeroplane to lose its directional stability and also to fly one wing down. i cannot impress this matter of tension upon the reader too strongly. it is of the utmost importance. when this, and also accuracy in securing the various adjustments, has been learned, one is on the way to becoming a good rigger. . _wire loops._--wire is often bent over at its end in the form of a loop, in order to connect with a turnbuckle or fitting. these loops, even when made as perfectly as possible, have a tendency to elongate, thus spoiling the adjustment of the wires. great care should be taken to minimize this as much as possible. the rules to be observed are as follows: [illustration: wrong shape. result of wrong shape. right shape.] (_a_) the size of the loop should be as small as possible within reason. by that i mean it should not be so small as to create the possibility of the wire breaking. (_b_) the shape of the loop should be symmetrical. (_c_) it should have well-defined shoulders in order to prevent the ferrule from slipping up. at the same time, a shoulder should not have an angular place. (_d_) when the loop is finished it should be undamaged, and it should not be, as is often the case, badly scored. . _stranded wire cable._--no splice should be served with twine until it has been inspected by whoever is in charge of the workshop. the serving may cover bad work. should a strand become broken, then the cable should be replaced at once by another one. control cables have a way of wearing out and fraying wherever they pass round pulleys. every time an aeroplane comes down from flight the rigger should carefully examine the cables, especially where they pass round pulleys. if he finds a strand broken, he should replace the cable. the ailerons' balance cable on the top of the top plane is often forgotten, since it is necessary to fetch a high pair of steps in order to examine it. don't slack this, or some gusty day the pilot may unexpectedly find himself minus the aileron control. controlling surfaces.--the greatest care should be exercised in rigging the aileron, rudder, and elevator properly, for the pilot entirely depends upon them in managing the aeroplane. [illustration: position in which controlling surface must be rigged. it will be its position during flight.] the ailerons and elevator should be rigged so that, when the aeroplane is in flight, they are in a fair true line with the surface in front and to which they are hinged. [illustration: position during flight. position in which controlling surface must be rigged.] if the surface to which they are hinged is not a lifting surface, then they should be rigged to be in a fair true line with it as illustrated above. if the controlling surface is, as illustrated, hinged to the back of a lifting surface, then it should be rigged a little below the position it would occupy if in a fair true line with the surface in front. this is because, in such a case, it is set at an angle of incidence. this angle will, during flight, cause it to lift a little above the position in which it has been rigged. it is able to lift owing to a certain amount of slack in the control wire holding it--and one cannot adjust the control wire to have no slack, because that would cause it to bind against the pulleys and make the operation of it too hard for the pilot. it is therefore necessary to rig it a little below the position it would occupy if it was rigged in a fair true line with the surface in front. remember that this only applies when it is hinged to a lifting surface. the greater the angle of incidence (and therefore the lift) of the surface in front, then the more the controlling surface will have to be rigged down. as a general rule it is safe to rig it down so that its trailing edge is / to / inch below the position it would occupy if in a fair line with the surface in front; or about / inch down for every inches of chord of the controlling surface. when making these adjustments the pilot's control levers should be in their neutral positions. it is not sufficient to lash them. they should be rigidly blocked into position with wood packing. the surfaces must not be distorted in any way. if they are held true by bracing wires, then such wires must be carefully adjusted. if they are distorted and there are no bracing wires with which to true them, then some of the internal framework will probably have to be replaced. the controlling surfaces should never be adjusted with a view to altering the stability of the aeroplane. nothing can be accomplished in that way. the only result will be to spoil the control of the aeroplane. fabric-covered surfaces.--first of all make sure that there is no distortion of spars or ribs, and that they are perfectly sound. then adjust the internal bracing wires so that the ribs are parallel to the direction of flight. the ribs usually cause the fabric to make a ridge where they occur, and, if such ridge is not parallel to the direction of flight, it will produce excessive drift. as a rule the ribs are at right angles to both main and rear spars. the tension of the internal bracing wires should be just sufficient to give rigidity to the framework. they should not be tensioned above that unless the wires are, at their ends, bent to form loops. in that case a little extra tension may be given to offset the probable elongation of the loops. the turnbuckles must now be generously greased, and served round with adhesive tape. the wires must be rendered perfectly dry and clean, and then painted with an anti-rust mixture. the woodwork must be well varnished. if it is necessary to bore holes in the spars for the purpose of receiving, for instance, socket bolts, then their places should be marked before being bored and their positions confirmed by whoever is in charge of the workshop. all is now ready for the sail-maker to cover the surface with fabric. adjustment of control cables.--the adjustment of the control cables is quite an art, and upon it will depend to a large degree the quick and easy control of the aeroplane by the pilot. the method is as follows: after having rigged the controlling surfaces, and as far as possible secured the correct adjustment of the control cables, then remove the packing which has kept the control levers rigid. then, sitting in the pilot's seat, move the control levers _smartly_. tension the control cables so that when the levers are smartly moved there is no perceptible snatch or lag. be careful not to tension the cables more than necessary to take out the snatch. if tensioned too much they will ( ) bind round the pulleys and result in hard work for the pilot; ( ) throw dangerous stresses upon the controlling surfaces, which are of rather flimsy construction; and ( ) cause the cables to fray round the pulleys quicker than would otherwise be the case. now, after having tensioned the cables sufficiently to take out the snatch, place the levers in their neutral positions, and move them to and fro about / inch either side of such positions. if the adjustment is correct, it should be possible to see the controlling surfaces move. if they do not move, then the control cables are too slack. flying position.--before rigging an aeroplane or making any adjustments it is necessary to place it in what is known as its "flying position." i may add that it would be better termed its "rigging position." in the case of an aeroplane fitted with a stationary engine this is secured by packing up the machine so that the engine foundations are perfectly horizontal both longitudinally and laterally. this position is found by placing a straight-edge and a spirit-level across the engine foundations (both longitudinally and laterally), and great care should be taken to see that the bubble is exactly in the centre of the level. the slightest error will assume magnitude towards the extremities of the aeroplane. great care should be taken to block up the aeroplane rigidly. in case it gets accidentally disturbed while the work is going on, it is well to constantly verify the flying position by running the straight-edge and spirit-level over the engine foundations. the straight-edge should be carefully tested before being used, as, being generally made of wood, it will not remain true long. place it lightly in a vice, and in such a position that a spirit-level on top shows the bubble exactly in the centre. now slowly move the level along the straight-edge, and the bubble should remain exactly in the centre. if it does not do so, then the straight-edge is not true and must be corrected. _this should never be omitted._ in the case of aeroplanes fitted with engines of the rotary type, the "flying position" is some special attitude laid down in the aeroplane's specifications, and great care should be taken to secure accuracy. angle of incidence.--one method of finding the angle of incidence is as follows: [illustration] first place the aeroplane in its flying position. the corner of the straight-edge must be placed underneath and against the _centre_ of the rear spar, and held in a horizontal position parallel to the ribs. this is secured by using a spirit-level. the set measurement will then be from the top of the straight-edge to the centre of the bottom surface of the main spar, or it may be from the top of the straight-edge to the lowest part of the leading edge. care should be taken to measure from the centre of the spar and to see that the bubble is exactly in the centre of the level. remember that all this will be useless if the aeroplane has not been placed accurately in its flying position. this method of finding the angle of incidence must be used under every part of the lower surface where struts occur. it should not be used between the struts, because, in such places, the spars may have taken a slight permanent set up or down; not, perhaps, sufficiently bad to make any material difference to the flying of the machine, but quite bad enough to throw out the angle of incidence, which cannot be corrected at such a place. if the angle is wrong, it should then be corrected as follows: if it is too great, then the rear spar must be warped up until it is right, and this is done by slackening _all_ the wires going to the top of the strut, and then tightening _all_ the wires going to the bottom of the strut. if the angle is too small, then slacken _all_ the wires going to the bottom of the strut, and tighten _all_ the wires going to the top of the strut, until the correct adjustment is secured. never attempt to adjust the angle by warping the main spar. the set measurement, which is of course stated in the aeroplane's specifications, should be accurate to / inch. lateral dihedral angle.--one method of securing this is as follows, and this method will, at the same time, secure the correct angle of incidence: [illustration: front elevation and plan.] the strings, drawn very tight, must be taken over both the main and rear spars of the top surface. they must run between points on the spars just inside the outer struts. the set measurement (which should be accurate to / inch or less) is then from the strings down to four points on the main and rear spars of the centre-section surface. these points should be just inside the four centre-section struts; that is to say, as far as possible away from the centre of the centre-section. do not attempt to take the set measurement near the centre of the centre-section. the strings should be as tight as possible, and, if it can be arranged, the best way to accomplish that is as shown in the above illustration, _i.e._, by weighting the strings down to the spars by means of weights and tying their ends to struts. this will give a tight and motionless string. however carefully the above adjustment is made, there is sure to be some slight error. this is of no great importance, provided it is divided equally between the left- and right-hand wings. in order to make sure of this, certain check measurements should be taken as follows: each bay must be diagonally measured, and such measurements must be the same to within / inch on each side of the aeroplane. as a rule such diagonal measurements are taken from the bottom socket of one strut to the top socket of another strut, but this is bad practice, because of possible inaccuracies due to faulty manufacture. the points between which the diagonal measurements are taken should be at fixed distances from the butts of the spars, such distances being the same on each side of the aeroplane, thus: [illustration: points a, b, and c, must be the same fixed distances from the butt as are points d, e, and f. distances and must equal distances and .] the above applies to both front and rear bays. it would be better to use the centre line of the aeroplane rather than the butts of the spars. it is not practicable to do so, however, as the centre line probably runs through the petrol tanks, etc. the dihedral board.--another method of securing the dihedral angle, and also the angle of incidence, is by means of the dihedral board. it is a light handy thing to use, but leads to many errors, and should not be used unless necessary. the reasons are as follows: the dihedral board is probably not true. if it must be used, then it should be very carefully tested for truth beforehand. another reason against its use is that it has to be placed on the spars in a position between the struts, and that is just where the spars may have a little permanent set up or down, or some inaccuracy of surface which will, of course, throw out the accuracy of the adjustment. the method of using it is as follows: [illustration] the board is cut to the same angle as that specified for the upward inclination of the surface towards its wing-tips. it is placed on the spar as indicated above, and it is provided with two short legs to raise it above the flanges of the ribs (which cross over the spars), as they may vary in depth. a spirit-level is then placed on the board, and the wires must be adjusted to give the surface such an inclination as to result in the bubble being in the centre of the level. this operation must be performed in respect of each bay both front and rear. the bays must then be diagonally measured as already explained. yet another method of finding the dihedral angle, and at the same time the angle of incidence, is as follows: a horizontal line is taken from underneath the butt of each spar, and the set measurement is either the angle it makes with the spar, or a fixed measurement from the line to the spar taken at a specified distance from the butt. this operation must be performed in respect of both main and rear spars, and all the bays must be measured diagonally afterwards. [illustration] whichever method is used, be sure that after the job is done the spars are perfectly straight. stagger.--the stagger is the distance the top surface is in advance of the bottom surface when the aeroplane is in flying position. the set measurement is obtained as follows: [illustration] plumb-lines must be dropped over the leading edge of the top surface wherever struts occur, and also near the fuselage. the set measurement is taken from the front of the lower leading edge to the plumb-lines. it makes a difference whether the measurement is taken along a horizontal line (which can be found by using a straight-edge and a spirit-level) or along a projection of the chord. the line along which the measurement should be taken is laid down in the aeroplane's specifications. if a mistake is made and the measurement taken along the wrong line, it may result in a difference of perhaps / inch or more to the stagger, with the certain result that the aeroplane will, in flight, be nose-heavy or tail-heavy. after the adjustments of the angles of incidence, dihedral, and stagger have been secured, it is as well to confirm all of them, as, in making the last adjustment, the first one may have been spoiled. over-all adjustments.--the following over-all check measurements should now be taken. [illustration: the dotted lines on the surface represent the spars within it.] the straight lines ac and bc should be equal to within / inch. the point c is the centre of the propeller, or, in the case of a "pusher" aeroplane, the centre of the nacelle. the points a and b are marked on the main spar, and must in each case be the same distance from the butt of the spar. the rigger should not attempt to make a and b merely the sockets of the outer struts, as they may not have been placed quite accurately by the manufacturer. the lines ac and bc must be taken from both top and bottom spars--two measurements on each side of the aeroplane. the two measurements fd and fe should be equal to within / inch. f is the centre of the fuselage or rudder-post. d and e are points marked on both top and bottom rear spars, and each must be the same fixed distance from the butt of the spar. two measurements on each side of the aeroplane. if these over-all measurements are not correct, then it is probably due to some of the drift or anti-drift wires being too tight or too slack. it may possibly be due to the fuselage being out of truth, but of course the rigger should have made quite sure that the fuselage was true before rigging the rest of the machine. again, it may be due to the internal bracing wires within the lifting surfaces not being accurately adjusted, but of course this should have been seen to before covering the surfaces with fabric. fuselage.--the method of truing the fuselage is laid down in the aeroplane's specifications. after it has been adjusted according to the specified directions, it should then be arranged on trestles in such a way as to make about three-quarters of it towards the tail stick out unsupported. in this way it will assume a condition as near as possible to flying conditions, and when it is in this position the set measurements should be confirmed. if this is not done it may be out of truth, but perhaps appear all right when supported by trestles at both ends, as, in such case, its weight may keep it true as long as it is resting upon the trestles. the tail-plane (empennage).--the exact angle of incidence of the tail-plane is laid down in the aeroplane's specifications. it is necessary to make sure that the spars are horizontal when the aeroplane is in flying position and the tail unsupported as explained above under the heading of fuselage. if the spars are tapered, then make sure that their centre lines are horizontal. undercarriage.--the undercarriage must be very carefully aligned as laid down in the specifications. . the aeroplane must be placed in its flying position and sufficiently high to ensure the wheels being off the ground when rigged. when in this position the axle must be horizontal and the bracing wires adjusted to secure the various set measurements stated in the specifications. . make sure that the struts bed well down into their sockets. . make sure that the shock absorbers are of equal tension. in the case of rubber shock absorbers, both the number of turns and the lengths must be equal. how to diagnose faults in flight, stability, and control. directional stability will be badly affected if there is more drift (_i.e._, resistance) on one side of the aeroplane than there is on the other side. the aeroplane will tend to turn towards the side having the most drift. this may be caused as follows: . the angle of incidence of the main surface or the tail surface may be wrong. the greater the angle of incidence, the greater the drift. the less the angle, the less the drift. . if the alignment of the fuselage, fin in front of the rudder, the struts or stream-line wires, or, in the case of the maurice farman, the front outriggers, are not absolutely correct--that is to say, if they are turned a little to the left or to the right instead of being in line with the direction of flight--then they will act as a rudder and cause the aeroplane to turn off its course. . if any part of the surface is distorted, it will cause the aeroplane to turn off its course. the surface is cambered, _i.e._, curved, to pass through the air with the least possible drift. if, owing perhaps to the leading edge, spars, or trailing edge becoming bent, the curvature is spoiled, that will result in changing the amount of drift on one side of the aeroplane, which will then have a tendency to turn off its course. lateral instability (flying one wing down).--the only possible reason for such a condition is a difference in the lifts of right and left wings. that may be caused as follows: . the angle of incidence may be wrong. if it is too great, it will produce more lift than on the other side of the aeroplane; and if too small, it will produce less lift than on the other side--the result being that, in either case, the aeroplane will try to fly one wing down. . _distorted surfaces._--if some part of the surface is distorted, then its camber is spoiled, and the lift will not be the same on both sides of the aeroplane, and that, of course, will cause it to fly one wing down. longitudinal instability may be due to the following reasons: . _the stagger may be wrong._ the top surface may have drifted back a little owing to some of the wires, probably the incidence wires, having elongated their loops or having pulled the fittings into the wood. if the top surface is not staggered forward to the correct degree, then consequently the whole of its lift is too far back, and it will then have a tendency to lift up the tail of the machine too much. the aeroplane would then be said to be "nose-heavy." a / -inch area in the stagger will make a very considerable difference to the longitudinal stability. . if _the angle of incidence_ of the main surface is not right, it will have a bad effect, especially in the case of an aeroplane with a lifting tail-plane. if the angle is too great, it will produce an excess of lift, and that may lift up the nose of the aeroplane and result in a tendency to fly "tail-down." if the angle is too small, it will produce a decreased lift, and the aeroplane may have a tendency to fly "nose-down." . _the fuselage_ may have become warped upward or downward, thus giving the tail-plane an incorrect angle of incidence. if it has too much angle, it will lift too much, and the aeroplane will be "nose-heavy." if it has too little angle, then it will not lift enough, and the aeroplane will be "tail-heavy." . (the least likely reason.) _the tail-plane_ may be mounted upon the fuselage at a wrong angle of incidence, in which case it must be corrected. if nose-heavy, it should be given a smaller angle of incidence. if tail-heavy, it should be given a larger angle; but care should be taken not to give it too great an angle, because the longitudinal stability entirely depends upon the tail-plane being set at a much smaller angle of incidence than is the main surface, and if that difference is decreased too much, the aeroplane will become uncontrollable longitudinally. sometimes the tail-plane is mounted on the aeroplane at the same angle as the main surface, but it actually engages the air at a lesser angle, owing to the air being deflected downwards by the main surface. there is then, in effect, a longitudinal dihedral as explained and illustrated in chapter i. climbs badly.--such a condition is, apart from engine or propeller trouble, probably due to ( ) distorted surfaces, or ( ) too small an angle of incidence. flight speed poor.--such a condition is, apart from engine or propeller trouble, probably due to ( ) distorted surfaces, ( ) too great an angle of incidence, or ( ) dirt or mud, and consequently excessive skin-friction. inefficient control is probably due to ( ) wrong setting of control surfaces, ( ) distortion of control surfaces, or ( ) control cables being badly tensioned. will not "taxi" straight.--if the aeroplane is uncontrollable on the ground, it is probably due to ( ) alignment of undercarriage being wrong, or ( ) unequal tension of shock absorbers. chapter iv the propeller, or "air-screw" the sole object of the propeller is to translate the power of the engine into thrust. the propeller screws through the air, and its blades, being set at an angle inclined to the direction of motion, secure a reaction, as in the case of the aeroplane's lifting surface. this reaction may be conveniently divided into two component parts or values, namely, thrust and drift (see illustration overleaf). the thrust is opposed to the drift of the aeroplane, and must be equal and opposite to it at flying speed. if it falls off in power, then the flying speed must decrease to a velocity, at which the aeroplane drift equals the decreased thrust. the drift of the propeller may be conveniently divided into the following component values: _active drift_, produced by the useful thrusting part of the propeller. _passive drift_, produced by all the rest of the propeller, _i.e._, by its detrimental surface. _skin-friction_, produced by the friction of the air with roughness of surface. _eddies_ attending the movement of the air caused by the action of the propeller. _cavitation_ (very marked at excessive speed of revolution). a tendency of the propeller to produce a cavity or semi-vacuum in which it revolves, the thrust decreasing with increase of speed and cavitation. thrust-drift ratio.--the proportion of thrust to drift is of paramount importance, for it expresses the efficiency of the propeller. it is affected by the following factors: _speed of revolution._--the greater the speed, the greater the proportion of drift to thrust. this is due to the increase with speed of the passive drift, which carries with it no increase in thrust. for this reason propellers are often geared down to revolve at a lower speed than that of the engine. _angle of incidence._--the same reasons as in the case of the aeroplane surface. _aspect ratio._--ditto. _camber._--ditto. [illustration: m, direction of motion of propeller (rotary). r, direction of reaction. t, direction of thrust. ad, direction of the resistance of the air to the passage of the aeroplane, _i.e._, aeroplane drift. d, direction of propeller drift (rotary). p, engine power, opposed to propeller drift and transmitted to the propeller through the propeller shaft.] in addition to the above factors there are, when it comes to actually designing a propeller, mechanical difficulties to consider. for instance, the blades must be of a certain strength and consequent thickness. that, in itself, limits the aspect ratio, for it will necessitate a chord long enough in proportion to the thickness to make a good camber possible. again, the diameter of the propeller must be limited, having regard to the fact that greater diameters than those used to-day would not only result in excessive weight of construction, but would also necessitate a very high undercarriage to keep the propeller off the ground, and such undercarriage would not only produce excessive drift, but would also tend to make the aeroplane stand on its nose when alighting. the latter difficulty cannot be overcome by mounting the propeller higher, as the centre of its thrust must be approximately coincident with the centre of aeroplane drift. maintenance of efficiency. the following conditions must be observed: . pitch angle.--the angle, at any given point on the propeller, at which the blade is set is known as the pitch angle, and it must be correct to half a degree if reasonable efficiency is to be maintained. this angle secures the "pitch," which is the distance the propeller advances during one revolution, supposing the air to be solid. the air, as a matter of fact, gives back to the thrust of the blades just as the pebbles slip back as one ascends a shingle beach. such "give-back" is known as _slip_. if a propeller has a pitch of, say, feet, but actually advances, say, only feet owing to slip, then it will be said to possess per cent. slip. thus, the pitch must equal the flying speed of the aeroplane plus the slip of the propeller. for example, let us find the pitch of a propeller, given the following conditions: flying speed ... miles per hour. propeller revolutions ... , per minute. slip ... per cent. first find the distance in feet the aeroplane will travel forward in one minute. that is-- , feet ( miles) ----------------------- = , feet per minute. " (minutes) now divide the feet per minute by the propeller revolutions per minute, add per cent. for the slip, and the result will be the propeller pitch: , ----- + per cent. = . feet. , in order to secure a constant pitch from root to tip of blade, the pitch angle decreases towards the tip. this is necessary, since the end of the blade travels faster than its root, and yet must advance forward at the same speed as the rest of the propeller. for example, two men ascending a hill. one prefers to walk fast and the other slowly, but they wish to arrive at the top of the hill simultaneously. then the fast walker must travel a farther distance than the slow one, and his angle of path (pitch angle) must then be smaller than the angle of path taken by the slow walker. their pitch angles are different, but their pitch (in this case altitude reached in a given time) is the same. [illustration] in order to test the pitch angle, the propeller must be mounted upon a shaft at right angles to a beam the face of which must be perfectly level, thus: [illustration] first select a point on the blade at some distance (say about feet) from the centre of the propeller. at that point find, by means of a protractor, the angle a projection of the chord makes with the face of the beam. that angle is the pitch angle of the blade at that point. now lay out the angle on paper, thus: [illustration] the line above and parallel to the circumference line must be placed in a position making the distance between the two lines equal to the specified pitch, which is, or should be, marked upon the boss of the propeller. now find the circumference of the propeller where the pitch angle is being tested. for example, if that place is feet radius from the centre, then the circumference will be feet x = feet diameter, which, if multiplied by . = . feet circumference. now mark off the circumference distance, which is represented above by a--b, and reduce it in scale for convenience. the distance a vertical line makes between b and the chord line is the pitch at the point where the angle is being tested, and it should coincide with the specified pitch. you will note, from the above illustration, that the actual pitch line should meet the junction of the chord line and top line. the propeller should be tested at several points, about a foot apart, on each blade; and the diagram, provided the propeller is not faulty, will then look like this: [illustration: a, b, c, and d, actual pitch at points tested. i, pitch angle at point tested nearest to centre of propeller. e, circumference at i. j, pitch angle at point tested nearest to i. f, circumference at j. k, pitch angle at next point tested. g, circumference at k. l, pitch angle tested at point nearest tip of blade. h, circumference at l.] at each point tested the actual pitch coincides with the specified pitch: a satisfactory condition. a faulty propeller will produce a diagram something like this: [illustration] at every point tested the pitch angle is wrong, for nowhere does the actual pitch coincide with the specified pitch. angles a, c, and d, are too large, and b is too small. the angle should be correct to half a degree if reasonable efficiency is to be maintained. a fault in the pitch angle may be due to ( ) faulty manufacture, ( ) distortion, or ( ) the shaft hole through the boss being out of position. . straightness.--to test for straightness the propeller must be mounted upon a shaft. now bring the tip of one blade round to graze some fixed object. mark the point it grazes. now bring the other tip round, and it should come within / inch of the mark. if it does not do so, it is due to ( ) faulty manufacture, ( ) distortion, or ( ) to the hole through the boss being out of position. . length.--the blades should be of equal length to / inch. . balance.--the usual method of testing a propeller for balance is as follows: mount it upon a shaft, which must be on ball-bearings. place the propeller in a horizontal position, and it should remain in that position. if a weight of a trifle over an ounce placed in a bolt-hole on one side of the boss fails to disturb the balance, then the propeller is usually regarded as unfit for use. [illustration] the above method is rather futile, as it does not test for the balance of centrifugal force, which comes into play as soon as the propeller revolves. it can be tested as follows: [illustration] the propeller must be in a horizontal position, and then weighed at fixed points, such as a, b, c, d, e, and f, and the weights noted. the points a, b, and c must, of course, be at the same fixed distances from the centre of the propeller as the points d, e, and f. now reverse the propeller and weigh at each point again. note the results. the first series of weights should correspond to the second series, thus: weight a should equal weight f. weight b should equal weight e. weight c should equal weight d. there is no standard practice as to the degree of error permissible, but if there are any appreciable differences the propeller is unfit for use. . surface area.--the surface area of the blades should be equal. test with calipers thus: [illustration] the distance a--b should equal k--l. the distance c--d should equal i--j. the distance e--f should equal g--h. the points between which the distances are taken must, of course, be at the same distance from the centre in the case of each blade. there is no standard practice as to the degree of error permissible. if, however, there is an error of over / inch, the propeller is really unfit for use. . camber.--the camber (curvature) of the blades should be ( ) equal, ( ) decrease evenly towards the tips of the blades, and ( ) the greatest depth of the curve should, at any point of the blade, be approximately at the same percentage of the chord from the leading edge as at other points. it is difficult to test the top camber without a set of templates,[ ] but a fairly accurate idea of the concave camber can be secured by slowly passing a straight-edge along the blade, thus: [illustration] the camber can now be easily seen, and as the straight-edge is passed along the blade, the observer should look for any irregularities of the curvature, which should gradually and evenly decrease towards the tip of the blade. . the joints.--the usual method for testing the glued joints is by revolving the propeller at greater speed than it will be called upon to make during flight, and then carefully examining the joints to see if they have opened. it is not likely, however, that the reader will have the opportunity of making this test. he should, however, examine all the joints very carefully, trying by hand to see if they are quite sound. suspect a propeller of which the joints appear to hold any thickness of glue. sometimes the joints in the boss open a little, but this is not dangerous unless they extend to the blades, as the bolts will hold the laminations together. . condition of surface.--the surface should be very smooth, especially towards the tips of the blades. some propeller tips have a speed of over , feet a minute, and any roughness will produce a bad drift or resistance and lower the efficiency. . mounting.--great care should be taken to see that the propeller is mounted quite straight on its shaft. test in the same way as for straightness. if it is not straight, it is possibly due to some of the propeller bolts being too slack or to others having been pulled up too tightly. flutter.--propeller "flutter," or vibration, may be due to faulty pitch angle, balance, camber, surface area, or to bad mounting. it causes a condition sometimes mistaken for engine trouble, and one which may easily lead to the collapse of the propeller. care of propellers.--the care of propellers is of the greatest importance, as they become distorted very easily. . do not store them in a very damp or a very dry place. . do not store them where the sun will shine upon them. . never leave them long in a horizontal position or leaning up against a wall. . they should be hung on horizontal pegs, and the position of the propellers should be vertical. if the points i have impressed upon you in these notes are not attended to, you may be sure of the following results: . lack of efficiency, resulting in less aeroplane speed and climb than would otherwise be the case. . propeller "flutter" and possible collapse. . a bad stress upon the propeller shaft and its bearings. tractor.--a propeller mounted in front of the main surface. pusher.--a propeller mounted behind the main surface. four-bladed propellers.--four-bladed propellers are suitable only when the pitch is comparatively large. for a given pitch, and having regard to "interference," they are not so efficient as two-bladed propellers. [illustration: spiral courses of two-blade tips. spiral courses of four-blade tips. pitch the same in each case.] the smaller the pitch, the less the "gap," _i.e._, the distance, measured in the direction of the thrust, between the spiral courses of the blades (see illustration on preceding page). if the gap is too small, then the following blade will engage air which the preceding blade has put into motion, with the result that the following blade will not secure as good a reaction as would otherwise be the case. it is very much the same as in the case of the aeroplane gap. for a given pitch, the gap of a four-bladed propeller is only half that of a two-bladed one. therefore the four-bladed propeller is only suitable for large pitch, as such pitch produces spirals with a large gap, thus offsetting the decrease in gap caused by the numerous blades. the greater the speed of rotation, the less the pitch for a given aeroplane speed. then, in order to secure a large pitch and consequently a good gap, the four-bladed propeller is usually geared to rotate at a lower speed than would be the case if directly attached to the engine crank-shaft. [footnote : i have heard of temporary ones being made quickly by bending strips of lead over the convex side of the blade, but i should think it very difficult to secure a sufficient degree of accuracy in that way.] chapter v maintenance cleanliness.--the fabric must be kept clean and free from oil, as that will rot it. to take out dirt or oily patches, try acetone. if that will not remedy matters, then try petrol, but use it sparingly, as otherwise it will take off an unnecessary amount of dope. if that will not remove the dirt, then hot water and soap will do so, but, in that case, be sure to use soap having no alkali in it, as otherwise it may injure the fabric. use the water sparingly, or it may get inside the planes and rust the internal bracing wires, or cause some of the wooden framework to swell. the wheels of the undercarriage have a way of throwing up mud on to the lower surface. this should, if possible, be taken off while wet. it should never be scraped off when dry, as that may injure the fabric. if dry, then it should be moistened before being removed. measures should be taken to prevent dirt from collecting upon any part of the aeroplane, as, otherwise, excessive skin-friction will be produced with resultant loss of flight speed. the wires, being greasy, collect dirt very easily. control cables.--after every flight the rigger should pass his hand over the control cables and carefully examine them near pulleys. removal of grease may be necessary to make a close inspection possible. if only one strand is broken the wire should be replaced. do not forget the aileron balance wire on the top surface. once a day try the tension of the control cables by smartly moving the control levers about as explained elsewhere. wires.--all the wires should be kept well greased or oiled, and in the correct tension. when examining the wires, it is necessary to place the aeroplane on level ground, as otherwise it may be twisted, thus throwing some wires into undue tension and slackening others. the best way, if there is time, is to pack the machine up into its "flying position." if you see a slack wire, do not jump to the conclusion that it must be tensioned. perhaps its opposition wire is too tight, in which case slacken it, and possibly you will find that will tighten the slack wire. carefully examine all wires and their connections near the propeller, and be sure that they are snaked round with safety wire, so that the latter may keep them out of the way of the propeller if they come adrift. the wires inside the fuselage should be cleaned and regreased about once a fortnight. struts and sockets.--these should be carefully examined to see if any splitting has occurred. distortion.--carefully examine all surfaces, including the controlling surfaces, to see whether any distortion has occurred. if distortion can be corrected by the adjustment of wires, well and good; but if not, then some of the internal framework probably requires replacement. adjustments.--verify the angles of incidence, dihedral, and stagger, and the rigging position of the controlling surfaces, as often as possible. undercarriage.--constantly examine the alignment and fittings of the undercarriage, and the condition of tyres and shock absorbers. the latter, when made of rubber, wear quickest underneath. inspect axles and skids to see if there are any signs of them becoming bent. the wheels should be taken off occasionally and greased. locking arrangements.--constantly inspect the locking arrangements of turnbuckles, bolts, etc. pay particular attention to the control cable connections, and to all moving parts in respect of the controls. lubrication.--keep all moving parts, such as pulleys, control levers, and hinges of controlling surfaces, well greased. special inspection.--apart from constantly examining the aeroplane with reference to the above points i have made, i think that, in the case of an aeroplane in constant use, it is an excellent thing to make a special inspection of every part, say, once a week. this will take from two to three hours according to the type of aeroplane. in order to carry it out methodically, the rigger should have a list of every part down to the smallest split-pin. he can then check the parts as he examines them, and nothing will be passed over. this, i know from experience, greatly increases the confidence of the pilot, and tends to produce good work in the air. windy weather.--the aeroplane, when on the ground, should face the wind; and it is advisable to lash the control lever fast, so that the controlling surfaces may not be blown about and possibly damaged. "vetting" by eye.--this should be practised at every opportunity, and, if persevered in, it is possible to become quite expert in diagnosing by eye faults in flight efficiency, stability, and control. the aeroplane should be standing upon level ground, or, better than that, packed up into its "flying position." now stand in front of it and line up the leading edge with the main spar, rear spar, and trailing edge. their shadows can usually be seen through the fabric. allowance must, of course, be made for wash-in and wash-out; otherwise, the parts i have specified should be parallel with each other. now line up the centre part of the main-plane with the tail-plane. the latter should be symmetrical with it. next, sight each interplane front strut with its rear strut. they should be parallel. then, standing on one side of the aeroplane, sight all the front struts. the one nearest to you should cover all the others. this applies to the rear struts also. look for distortion of leading edges, main and rear spars, trailing edges, tail-plane, and controlling surfaces. this sort of thing, if practised constantly, will not only develop an expert eye for diagnosis of faults, but will also greatly assist in impressing upon the memory the characteristics and possible troubles of the various types of aeroplanes. mishandling on the ground.--this is the cause of a lot of unnecessary damage. the golden rule to observe is, produce no bending stresses. nearly all the wood in an aeroplane is designed to take merely the stress of direct compression, and it cannot be bent safely. therefore, in packing an aeroplane up from the ground, or in pulling or pushing it about, be careful to stress it in such a way as to produce, as far as possible, only direct compression stresses. for instance, if it is necessary to support the lifting surface, then the packing should be arranged to come directly under the struts so that they may take the stress in the form of compression for which they are designed. such supports should be covered with soft packing in order to prevent the fabric from becoming damaged. when pulling an aeroplane along, if possible, pull from the top of the undercarriage struts. if necessary to pull from elsewhere, then do so by grasping the interplane struts as low down as possible. never pull by means of wires. never lay fabric-covered parts upon a concrete floor. any slight movement will cause the fabric to scrape over the floor with resultant damage. struts, spars, etc., should never be left about the floor, as in such position they are likely to become scored. i have already explained the importance of protecting the outside fibres of the wood. remember also that wood becomes distorted easily. this particularly applies to interplane struts. if there are no proper racks to stand them in, then the best plan is to lean them up against the wall in as near a vertical position as possible. time.--learn to know the time necessary to complete any of the various rigging jobs. this is really important. ignorance of this will lead to bitter disappointments in civil life; and, where service flying is concerned, it will, to say the least of it, earn unpopularity with senior officers, and fail to develop respect and good work where men are concerned. the aeroplane shed.--this should be kept as clean and orderly as possible. a clean, smart shed produces briskness, energy, and pride of work. a dirty, disorderly shed nearly always produces slackness and poor quality of work, lost tools, and mislaid material. [illustration] [illustration] glossary _the numbers at the right-hand side of the page indicate the parts numbered in the preceding diagrams._ =aeronautics=--the science of aerial navigation. =aerofoil=--a rigid structure, of large superficial area relative to its thickness, designed to obtain, when driven through the air at an angle inclined to the direction of motion, a reaction from the air approximately at right angles to its surface. always cambered when intended to secure a reaction in one direction only. as the term "aerofoil" is hardly ever used in practical aeronautics, i have, throughout this book, used the term surface, which, while academically incorrect, since it does not indicate thickness, is the term usually used to describe the cambered lifting surfaces, _i.e._, the "planes" or "wings," and the stabilizers and the controlling aerofoils. =aerodrome=--the name usually applied to a ground used for the practice of aviation. it really means "flying machine," but is never used in that sense nowadays. =aeroplane=--a power-driven aerofoil fitted with stabilizing and controlling surfaces. =acceleration=--the rate of change of velocity. =angle of incidence=--the angle at which the "neutral lift line" of a surface attacks the air. =angle of incidence, rigger's=--the angle the chord of a surface makes with a line parallel to the axis of the propeller. =angle of incidence, maximum=--the greatest angle of incidence at which, for a given power, surface (including detrimental surface), and weight, horizontal flight can be maintained. =angle of incidence, minimum=--the smallest angle of incidence at which, for a given power, surface (including detrimental surface), and weight, horizontal flight can be maintained. =angle of incidence, best climbing=--that angle of incidence at which an aeroplane ascends quickest. an angle approximately halfway between the maximum and optimum angles. =angle of incidence, optimum=--the angle of incidence at which the lift-drift ratio is the highest. =angle, gliding=--the angle between the horizontal and the path along which an aeroplane, at normal flying speed, but not under engine power, descends in still air. =angle, dihedral=--the angle between two planes. =angle, lateral dihedral=--the lifting surface of an aeroplane is said to be at a lateral dihedral angle when it is inclined upward towards its wing-tips. =angle, longitudinal dihedral=--the main surface and tail surface are said to be at a longitudinal dihedral angle when the projections of their neutral lift lines meet and produce an angle above them. =angle, rigger's longitudinal dihedral=--ditto, but substituting "chords" for "neutral lift lines." =angle, pitch=--the angle at any given point of a propeller, at which the blade is inclined to the direction of motion when the propeller is revolving but the aeroplane stationary. =altimeter=--an instrument used for measuring height. =air-speed indicator=--an instrument used for measuring air pressures or velocities. it consequently indicates whether the surface is securing the requisite reaction for flight. usually calibrated in miles per hour, in which case it indicates the correct number of miles per hour at only one altitude. this is owing to the density of the air decreasing with increase of altitude and necessitating a greater speed through space to secure the same air pressure as would be secured by less speed at a lower altitude. it would be more correct to calibrate it in units of air pressure. [ ] =air pocket=--a local movement or condition of the air causing an aeroplane to drop or lose its correct attitude. =aspect-ratio=--the proportion of span to chord of a surface. =air-screw (propeller)=--a surface so shaped that its rotation about an axis produces a force (thrust) in the direction of its axis. [ ] =aileron=--a controlling surface, usually situated at the wing-tip, the operation of which turns an aeroplane about its longitudinal axis; causes an aeroplane to tilt sideways. [ ] =aviation=--the art of driving an aeroplane. =aviator=--the driver of an aeroplane. =barograph=--a recording barometer, the charts of which can be calibrated for showing air density or height. =barometer=--an instrument used for indicating the density of air. =bank, to=--to turn an aeroplane about its longitudinal axis (to tilt sideways) when turning to left or right. =biplane=--an aeroplane of which the main lifting surface consists of a surface or pair of wings mounted above another surface or pair of wings. =bay=--the space enclosed by two struts and whatever they are fixed to. =boom=--a term usually applied to the long spars joining the tail of a "pusher" aeroplane to its main lifting surface. [ ] =bracing=--a system of struts and tie wires to transfer a force from one point to another. =canard=--literally "duck." the name which was given to a type of aeroplane of which the longitudinal stabilizing surface (_empennage_) was mounted in front of the main lifting surface. sometimes termed "tail-first" aeroplanes, but such term is erroneous, as in such a design the main lifting surface acts as, and is, the _empennage_. =cabre=--to fly or glide at an excessive angle of incidence; tail down. =camber=--curvature. =chord=--usually taken to be a straight line between the trailing and leading edges of a surface. =cell=--the whole of the lower surface, that part of the upper surface directly over it, together with the struts and wires holding them together. =centre (line) of pressure=--a line running from wing-tip to wing-tip, and through which all the air forces acting upon the surface may be said to act, or about which they may be said to balance. =centre (line) of pressure, resultant=--a line transverse to the longitudinal axis, and the position of which is the resultant of the centres of pressure of two or more surfaces. =centre of gravity=--the centre of weight. =cabane=--a combination of two pylons, situated over the fuselage, and from which the anti-lift wires are suspended. [ ] =cloche=--literally "bell." is applied to the bell-shaped construction which forms the lower part of the pilot's control lever in a bleriot monoplane, and to which the control cables are attached. =centrifugal force=--every body which moves in a curved path is urged outwards from the centre of the curve by a force termed "centrifugal." =control lever=--a lever by means of which the controlling surfaces are operated. it usually operates the ailerons and elevator. the "joy-stick." [ ] =cavitation, propeller=--the tendency to produce a cavity in the air. =distance piece=--a long, thin piece of wood (sometimes tape) passing through and attached to all the ribs in order to prevent them from rolling over sideways. [ ] =displacement=--change of position. =drift= (_of an aeroplane as distinct from the propeller_)--the horizontal component of the reaction produced by the action of driving through the air a surface inclined upwards and towards its direction of motion _plus_ the horizontal component of the reaction produced by the "detrimental" surface _plus_ resistance due to "skin-friction." sometimes termed "head-resistance." =drift, active=--drift produced by the lifting surface. =drift, passive=--drift produced by the detrimental surface. =drift= (_of a propeller_)--analogous to the drift of an aeroplane. it is convenient to include "eddies" and "cavitation" within this term. =drift, to=--to be carried by a current of air; to make leeway. =dive, to=--to descend so steeply as to produce a speed greater than the normal flying speed. =dope, to=--to paint a fabric with a special fluid for the purpose of tightening and protecting it. =density=--mass of unit volume; for instance, pounds per cubic foot. =efficiency=-- output ------ input. =efficiency= (_of an aeroplane as distinct from engine and propeller_)-- lift and velocity --------------------------- thrust (= aeroplane drift). =efficiency, engine=-- brake horse-power ---------------------- indicated horse-power. =efficiency, propeller=-- thrust horse-power -------------------------------- horse-power received from engine (= propeller drift). note.--the above terms can, of course, be expressed in foot-pounds. it is then only necessary to divide the upper term by the lower one to find the measure of efficiency. =elevator=--a controlling surface, usually hinged to the rear of the tail-plane, the operation of which turns an aeroplane about an axis which is transverse to the direction of normal horizontal flight. [ ] =empennage=--see "tail-plane." =energy=--stored work. for instance, a given weight of coal or petroleum stores a given quantity of energy which may be expressed in foot-pounds. =extension=--that part of the upper surface extending beyond the span of the lower surface. [ ] =edge, leading=--the front edge of a surface relative to its normal direction of motion. [ ] =edge, trailing=--the rear edge of a surface relative to its normal direction of motion. [ ] =factor of safety=--usually taken to mean the result found by dividing the stress at which a body will collapse by the maximum stress it will be called upon to bear. =fineness= (_of stream-line_)--the proportion of length to maximum width. =flying position=--a special position in which an aeroplane must be placed when rigging it or making adjustments. it varies with different types of aeroplanes. would be more correctly described as "rigging position." =fuselage=--that part of an aeroplane containing the pilot, and to which is fixed the tail-plane. [ ] =fin=--additional keel-surface, usually mounted at the rear of an aeroplane. [ ] =flange= (_of a rib_)--that horizontal part of a rib which prevents it from bending sideways. [ ] =flight=--the sustenance of a body heavier than air by means of its action upon the air. =foot-pound=--a measure of work representing the weight of lb. raised foot. =fairing=--usually made of thin sheet aluminium, wood, or a light construction of wood and fabric; and bent round detrimental surface in order to give it a "fair" or "stream-like" shape. [ ] =gravity=--is the force of the earth's attraction upon a body. it decreases with increase of distance from the earth. see "weight." =gravity, specific=-- density of substance -------------------- density of water. thus, if the density of water is lb. per unit volume, the same unit volume of petrol, if weighing lb., would be said to have a specific gravity of / , _i.e._, . . =gap= (_of an aeroplane_)--the distance between the upper and lower surfaces of a biplane. in a triplane or multiplane, the distance between any two of its surfaces. [ ] =gap, propeller=--the distance, measured in the direction of the thrust, between the spiral courses of the blades. =girder=--a structure designed to resist bending, and to combine lightness and strength. =gyroscope=--a heavy circular wheel revolving at high speed, the effect of which is a tendency to maintain its plane of rotation against disturbing forces. =hangar=--an aeroplane shed. =head-resistance=--drift. the resistance of the air to the passage of a body. =helicopter=--an air-screw revolving about a vertical axis, the direction of its thrust being opposed to gravity. =horizontal equivalent=--the plan view of a body whatever its attitude may be. =impulse=--a force causing a body to gain or lose momentum. =inclinometer=--a curved form of spirit-level used for indicating the attitude of a body relative to the horizontal. =instability=--an inherent tendency of a body, which, if the body is disturbed, causes it to move into a position as far as possible away from its first position. =instability, neutral=--an inherent tendency of a body to remain in the position given it by the force of a disturbance, with no tendency to move farther or to return to its first position. =inertia=--the inherent resistance to displacement of a body as distinct from resistance the result of an external force. =joy-stick=--see "control lever." =keel-surface=--everything to be seen when viewing an aeroplane from the side of it. =king-post=--a bracing strut; in an aeroplane, usually passing through a surface and attached to the main spar, and from the end or ends of which wires are taken to spar, surface, or other part of the construction in order to prevent distortion. when used in connection with a controlling surface, it usually performs the additional function of a lever, control cables connecting its ends with the pilot's control lever. [ ] =lift=--the vertical component of the reaction produced by the action of driving through the air a surface inclined upwards and towards its direction of motion. =lift, margin of=--the height an aeroplane can gain in a given time and starting from a given altitude. =lift-drift ratio=--the proportion of lift to drift. =loading=--the weight carried by an aerofoil. usually expressed in pounds per square foot of superficial area. =longeron=--the term usually applied to any long spar running length-ways of a fuselage. [ ] =mass=--the mass of a body is a measure of the quantity of material in it. =momentum=--the product of the mass and velocity of a body is known as "momentum." =monoplane=--an aeroplane of which the main lifting surface consists of one surface or one pair of wings. =multiplane=--an aeroplane of which the main lifting surface consists of numerous surfaces or pairs of wings mounted one above the other. =montant=--fuselage strut. =nacelle=--that part of an aeroplane containing the engine and/or pilot and passenger, and to which the tail-plane is not fixed. [ ] =neutral lift line=--a line taken through a surface in a forward direction relative to its direction of motion, and starting from its trailing edge. if the attitude of the surface is such as to make the said line coincident with the direction of motion, it results in no lift, the reaction then consisting solely of drift. the position of the neutral lift line, _i.e._, the angle it makes with the chord, varies with differences of camber, and it is found by means of wind-tunnel research. =newton's laws of motion=-- . if a body be at rest, it will remain at rest; or, if in motion, it will move uniformly in a straight line until acted upon by some force. . the rate of change of the quantity of motion (momentum) is proportional to the force which causes it, and takes place in the direction of the straight line in which the force acts. if a body be acted upon by several forces, it will obey each as though the others did not exist, and this whether the body be at rest or in motion. . to every action there is opposed an equal and opposite reaction. =ornithopter (or orthopter)=--a flapping wing design of aircraft intended to imitate the flight of a bird. =outrigger=--this term is usually applied to the framework connecting the main surface with an elevator placed in advance of it. sometimes applied to the "tail-boom" framework connecting the tail-plane with the main lifting surface. [ ] =pancake, to=--to "stall." =plane=--this term is often applied to a lifting surface. such application is not quite correct, since "plane" indicates a flat surface, and the lifting surfaces are always cambered. =propeller=--see "air-screw." =propeller, tractor=--an air-screw mounted in front of the main lifting surface. =propeller, pusher=--an air-screw mounted behind the main lifting surface. =pusher=--an aeroplane of which the propeller is mounted behind the main lifting surface. =pylon=--any v-shaped construction from the point of which wires are taken. =power=--rate of working. [ ] =power, horse=--one horse-power represents a force sufficient to raise , lb. foot in a minute. =power, indicated horse=--the i.h.p. of an engine is a measure of the rate at which work is done by the pressure upon the piston or pistons, as distinct from the rate at which the engine does work. the latter is usually termed "brake horse-power," since it may be measured by an absorption brake. =power, margin of=--the available quantity of power above that necessary to maintain horizontal flight at the optimum angle. =pitot tube=--a form of air-speed indicator consisting of a tube with open end facing the wind, which, combined with a static pressure or suction tube, is used in conjunction with a gauge for measuring air pressures or velocities. (_no. in diagram._) =pitch, propeller=--the distance a propeller advances during one revolution supposing the air to be solid. =pitch, to=--to plunge nose-down. =reaction=--a force, equal and opposite to the force of the action producing it. =rudder=--a controlling surface, usually hinged to the tail, the operation of which turns an aeroplane about an axis which is vertical in normal horizontal flight; causes an aeroplane to turn to left or right of the pilot. [ ] =roll, to=--to turn about the longitudinal axis. =rib, ordinary=--a light curved wooden part mounted in a fore and aft direction within a surface. the ordinary ribs give the surface its camber, carry the fabric, and transfer the lift from the fabric to the spars. [ ] =rib, compression=--acts as an ordinary rib, besides bearing the stress of compression produced by the tension of the internal bracing wires. [ ] =rib, false=--a subsidiary rib, usually used to improve the camber of the front part of the surface. [ ] =right and left hand=--always used relative to the position of the pilot. when observing an aeroplane from the front of it, the right hand side of it is then on the left hand of the observer. =remou=--a local movement or condition of the air which may cause displacement of an aeroplane. =rudder-bar=--a control lever moved by the pilot's feet, and operating the rudder. [ ] =surface=--see "aerofoil." =surface, detrimental=--all exterior parts of an aeroplane including the propeller, but excluding the (aeroplane) lifting and (propeller) thrusting surfaces. =surface, controlling=--a surface the operation of which turns an aeroplane about one of its axes. =skin-friction=--the friction of the air with roughness of surface. a form of drift. =span=--the distance from wing-tip to wing-tip. =stagger=--the distance the upper surface is forward of the lower surface when the axis of the propeller is horizontal. =stability=--the inherent tendency of a body, when disturbed, to return to its normal position. =stability, directional=--the stability about an axis which is vertical during normal horizontal flight, and without which an aeroplane has no natural tendency to remain upon its course. =stability, longitudinal=--the stability of an aeroplane about an axis transverse to the direction of normal horizontal flight, and without which it has no tendency to oppose pitching and tossing. =stability, lateral=--the stability of an aeroplane about its longitudinal axis, and without which it has no tendency to oppose sideways rolling. =stabilizer=--a surface, such as fin or tail-plane, designed to give an aeroplane inherent stability. =stall, to=--to give or allow an aeroplane an angle of incidence greater than the "maximum" angle, the result being a fall in the lift-drift ratio, the lift consequently becoming less than the weight of the aeroplane, which must then fall, _i.e._, "stall" or "pancake." =stress=--burden or load. =strain=--deformation produced by stress. =side-slip, to=--to fall as a result of an excessive "bank" or "roll." =skid, to=--to be carried sideways by centrifugal force when turning to left or right. =skid, undercarriage=--a spar, mounted in a fore and aft direction, and to which the wheels of the undercarriage are sometimes attached. should a wheel give way the skid is then supposed to act like the runner of a sleigh and to support the aeroplane. [ ] =skid, tail=--a piece of wood or other material, orientable, and fitted with shock absorbers, situated under the tail of an aeroplane in order to support it upon the ground and to absorb the shock of alighting. [ _a_] =section=--any separate part of the top surface, that part of the bottom surface immediately underneath it, with their struts and wires. =spar=--any long piece of wood or other material. =spar, main=--a spar within a surface and to which all the ribs are attached, such spar being the one situated nearest to the centre of pressure. it transfers more than half the lift from the ribs to the bracing. [ ] =spar, rear=--a spar within a surface, and to which all the ribs are attached, such spar being situated at the rear of the centre of pressure and at a greater distance from it than is the main spar. it transfers less than half of the lift from the ribs to the bracing. [ ] =strut=--any wooden member intended to take merely the stress of direct compression. =strut, interplane=--a strut holding the top and bottom surfaces apart. [ ] =strut, fuselage=--a strut holding the _fuselage longerons_ apart. it should be stated whether top, bottom, or side. if side, then it should be stated whether right or left hand. _montant_. [ ] =strut, extension=--a strut supporting an "extension" when not in flight. it may also prevent the extension from collapsing upwards during flight. [ ] =strut, undercarriage=-- [ _a_] =strut, dope=--a strut within a surface, so placed as to prevent the tension of the doped fabric from distorting the framework. [ ] =serving=--to bind round with wire, cord, or similar material. usually used in connection with wood joints and wire cable splices. =slip, propeller=--the pitch less the distance the propeller advances during one revolution. =stream-line=--a form or shape of detrimental surface designed to produce minimum drift. =toss, to=--to plunge tail-down. =torque, propeller=--the tendency of a propeller to turn an aeroplane about its longitudinal axis in a direction opposite to that in which the propeller revolves. =tail-slide=--a fall whereby the tail of an aeroplane leads. =tractor=--an aeroplane of which the propeller is mounted in front of the main lifting surface. =triplane=--an aeroplane of which the main lifting surface consists of three surfaces or pairs of wings mounted one above the other. =tail-plane=--a horizontal stabilizing surface mounted at some distance behind the main lifting surface. _empennage_. [ ] =turnbuckle=--a form of wire-tightener, consisting of a barrel into each end of which is screwed an eyebolt. wires are attached to the eyebolts and the required degree of tension is secured by means of rotating the barrel. =thrust, propeller=--see "air-screw." =undercarriage=--that part of an aeroplane beneath the _fuselage_ or _nacelle_, and intended to support the aeroplane when at rest, and to absorb the shock of alighting. =velocity=--rate of displacement; speed. =volplane=--a gliding descent. =weight=--is a measure of the force of the earth's attraction (gravity) upon a body. the standard unit of weight in this country is lb., and is the force of the earth's attraction on a piece of platinum called _the standard pound_, deposited with the board of trade in london. at the centre of the earth a body will be attracted with equal force in every direction. it will therefore have no weight, though its mass is unchanged. gravity, of which weight is a measure, decreases with increase of altitude. =web= (_of a rib_)--that vertical part of a rib which prevents it from bending upwards. [ _a_] =warp, to=--to distort a surface in order to vary its angle of incidence. to vary the angle of incidence of a controlling surface. =wash=--the disturbance of air produced by the flight of an aeroplane. =wash-in=--an increasing angle of incidence of a surface towards its wing-tip. [ ] =wash-out=--a decreasing angle of incidence of a surface towards its wing-tip. [ ] =wing-tip=--the right or left-hand extremity of a surface. [ ] =wire=--a wire is, in aeronautics, always known by the name of its function. =wire, lift or flying=--a wire opposed to the direction of lift, and used to prevent a surface from collapsing upward during flight. [ ] =wire, anti-lift or landing=--a wire opposed to the direction of gravity, and used to sustain a surface when it is at rest. [ ] =wire, drift=--a wire opposed to the direction of drift, and used to prevent a surface from collapsing backwards during flight. =wire, anti-drift=--a wire opposed to the tension of a drift wire, and used to prevent such tension from distorting the framework. [ ] =wire, incidence=--a wire running from the top of an interplane strut to the bottom of the interplane strut in front of or behind it. it maintains the "stagger" and assists in maintaining the angle of incidence. sometimes termed "stagger wire." [ ] =wire, bracing=--any wire holding together the framework of any part of an aeroplane. it is not, however, usually applied to the wires described above unless the function performed includes a function additional to those described above. thus, a lift wire, while strictly speaking a bracing wire, is not usually described as one unless it performs the additional function of bracing some well-defined part such as the undercarriage. it will then be said to be an "undercarriage bracing lift wire." it might, perhaps, be acting as a drift wire also, in which case it will then be described as an "undercarriage bracing lift-drift wire." it should always be stated whether a bracing wire is ( ) top, ( ) bottom, ( ) cross, or ( ) side. if a "side bracing wire," then it should be stated whether right- or left-hand. =wire, internal bracing=--a bracing wire (usually drift or anti-drift) within a surface. =wire, top bracing=--a bracing wire, approximately horizontal and situated between the top longerons of fuselage, between top tail booms, or at the top of similar construction. [ ] =wire, bottom bracing=--ditto, substituting "bottom" for "top." [ ] =wire, side bracing=--a bracing wire crossing diagonally a side bay of fuselage, tail boom bay, undercarriage side bay or centre-section side bay. this term is not usually used with reference to incidence wires, although they cross diagonally the side bays of the cell. it should be stated whether right- or left-hand. [ ] =wire, cross bracing=--a bracing wire, the position of which is diagonal from right to left when viewing it from the front of an aeroplane. [ ] =wire, control bracing=--a wire preventing distortion of a controlling surface. [ ] =wire, control=--a wire connecting a controlling surface with the pilot's control lever, wheel, or rudder-bar. [ ] =wire, aileron gap=--a wire connecting top and bottom ailerons. [ ] =wire, aileron balance=--a wire connecting the right- and left-hand top ailerons. sometimes termed the "aileron compensating wire." [ ] =wire, snaking=--a wire, usually of soft metal, wound spirally or tied round another wire, and attached at each end to the framework. used to prevent the wire round which it is "snaked" from becoming, in the event of its displacement, entangled with the propeller. =wire, locking=--a wire used to prevent a turnbuckle barrel or other fitting from losing its adjustment. =wing=--strictly speaking, a wing is one of the surfaces of an ornithopter. the term is, however, often applied to the lifting surface of an aeroplane when such surface is divided into two parts, one being the left-hand "wing," and the other the right-hand "wing." =wind-tunnel=--a large tube used for experimenting with surfaces and models, and through which a current of air is made to flow by artificial means. =work=--force × displacement. =wind-screen=--a small transparent screen mounted in front of the pilot to protect his face from the air pressure. types of aeroplanes. [illustration: plate i.] the first machine to fly--of which there is anything like authentic record--was the ader "avion," after which the more notable advances were made as shown above. [illustration: plate ii.] the henri farman was the first widely used aeroplane. above are shown the chief steps in its development. [illustration: plate iii.] the avro.--the aeroplane designed and built by mr. a. v. roe was the first successful heavier-than-air flying machine built by a british subject. mr. roe's progress may be followed in the picture, from his early "canard" biplane, through various triplanes, with j.a.p. and h.p. green engines, to his successful tractor biplane with the same h.p. green, thence through the "totally enclosed" biplane , with h.p. green, to the biplane - , with h.p. gnome. [illustration: plate iv.] the sopwith land-going biplanes.--the earliest was a pair of wright planes with a fuselage added. next was the famous tractor with h.p. gnome. then the "tabloid" of , which set a completely new fashion in aeroplane design. from this developed the gordon-bennett racer shown over date . the gun-carrier was produced about the same time, and the later tractor biplane in a development of the famous h.p. but with h.p. monosoupape gnome. [illustration: plate v.] the maurice farman.--first, , the - h.p. renault and coil-spring chassis. , the same chassis with beginning of the characteristic bent-up skids. appeared the huge french military trials -seater; also the round-ended planes and tails and "henry" type wheels. this developed, , into the square-ended planes and upper tail, and long double-acting ailerons of the british military trials. the type had two rectangular tail-planes and better seating arrangements, known affectionately as the "mechanical cow"; the same year came the first "shorthorn," with two tail-planes and a low nacelle. this finally developed into the carefully streamlined "shorthorn" with the raised nacelle and a single tail-plane. [illustration: plate vi.] the short "pushers."--in came the semi-wright biplane, with h.p. green, on which mr. moore-brabazon won the "daily mail's" £ prize for the first mile flight on a circuit on a british aeroplane. then the first box-kite flown by mr. grace at wolverhampton. later the famous "extension" type on which the first naval officers learned to fly. then the " " type with elevator on the nacelle, on which dozens of r.n.a.s. pilots were taught. [illustration: plate vii.] short tractors, - .--they were all co-existent, but the first was the "tractor-pusher" (bottom of picture). then came the "twin-tractor plus propeller" (at top). a development was the "triple-tractor" (on the right), with two h.p. gnomes, one immediately behind the other under the cowl, one driving the two chains, the other coupled direct. later came the single-engined h.p. tractor (on the left), the original of the famous short seaplanes. [illustration: plate viii.] the vickers machines: first the vickers-r.e.p. of , which developed into the full-bodied no. v. with r.e.p. engine, then the military trials "sociable" with viale engine, and so to the big no. vii with a h.p. gnome. contemporary with the no. v and no. vi were a number of school box-kites of ordinary farman type, which developed into the curious "pumpkin" sociable, and the early "gun 'bus" of . thence arrived the gun-carrier with h.p. monosoupape gnome. [illustration: plate ix.] the bristol aeroplanes.--first, , farman type box-kites familiar to all early pupils. then the miniature maurice-farman type biplane of the "circuit of britain." contemporaneous was the "floating tail" monoplane designed by pierre prier, and after it a similar machine with fixed tail. then came the handsome but unfortunate monoplane designed by m. coanda for the military trials, . [illustration: plate x.] the bristol tractors.--late came the round fuselaged tractor, with gnome engine, designed by mr. gordon england for turkey. - came the biplane built onto the military trials monoplane type fuselage, also with a gnome, designed by m. coanda for roumania. then the renault-engined coanda tractor , followed by h.p. gnome-engined scout, designed by messrs. barnwell and busteed, which with gnomes, le rhones and clergets, has been one of the great successes. almost contemporary was the two-seater bristol. [illustration: plate xi.] the martinsydes.-- , first experimental monoplane built with small -cylinder engine. j.a.p.-engined machine, , followed by the gnome-engined machine, . , first big monoplane with antoinette engine was built, followed by powerful austro-daimler monoplane, . then came the little gnome-engined scout biplanes, , some with, some without, skids. [illustration: plate xii.] the curtiss biplanes.--in came the "june-bug," the united product of glen curtiss, dr. graham bell, and j. a. d. mccurdy. then the box-kite type, , on which mr. curtiss won the gordon-bennett race at reims. next the "rear-elevator" pusher, , followed by first tractor, , with an outside flywheel. all purely curtiss machines to that date had independent ailerons intended to get away from wright patents. following these came tractors with engines varying from to h.p., fitted with varying types of chassis. all these have ordinary ailerons. [illustration: plate xiii.] the bleriot ( ).--the first engine-driven machine was a "canard" monoplane. then came the curious tractor monoplanes - , in order shown. famous "type xi" was prototype of all bleriot successes. "type xii" was never a great success, though the ancestor of the popular "parasol" type. the big passenger carrier was a descendant of this type. [illustration: plate xiv.] the bleriot ( ):-- , "type xi," on which mr. grahame-white won gordon-bennett race, with a -cylinder h.p. gnome. came the improved "type xi," with large and effective elevator flaps. on this type, with a h.p. gnome, lieut. de conneau (m. beaumont) won paris-rome race and "circuit of britain." same year saw experimental "limousine" flown by m. legagneux, and fast but dangerous "clipped-wing" gordon-bennett racer with the fish-tail, flown by mr. hamel. about the same time came the fish-tailed side-by-side two-seater, flown by mr. hamel at hendon and by m. perreyon in military trials. , m. bleriot produced the h.p. three-seater which killed m. desparmets in french military trials. - , m. bleriot produced a quite promising experimental biplane, and a "monocoque" monoplane in which the passenger faced rearward. [illustration: plate xv.] the bleriot ( )-- tandem two-seater proved one of the best machines of its day. "canard" lived up to its name. a "pusher" monoplane was built in which the propeller revolved on the top tail boom. this machine came to an untimely end, with the famous pilot, m. perreyon. "tandem" was developed in into the type shown in centre; almost simultaneously "parasol" tandem appeared. , m. bleriot built a monoplane embodying a most valuable idea never fully developed. the engine tanks and pilot were all inside an armoured casing. behind them the fuselage was a "monocoque" of three-ply wood bolted onto the armour. and behind this all the tail surfaces were bolted on as a separate unit. [illustration: plate xvi.] the caudron.-- , came the machine with ailerons and a h.p. anzani. this was altered to warp control and a "star" anzani was fitted. from this came the h.p. type of , one of the most successful of school machines. small fast monoplane, , was never further developed. appeared the familiar biplanes with h.p. gnomes, and -seater with h.p. anzani for french "circuit of anjou." produced the "scout" biplane which won at vienna. appeared the twin-engined type, the first successful "battle-plane." [illustration: plate xvii.] the deperdussin.--in the little monoplane with a gyp. engine. then the gnome-engined machine of the "circuit of europe." in came the navy's machine with h.p. gnome, and prevost's gordon-bennett "bullet," miles in the hour. the last was the british-built "thunder-bug," familiar at hendon. [illustration: plate xviii.] the breguet.--first to fly was the complicated but business-like machine of . then came the record passenger carrier, (which lifted passengers). the french military trials machine with geared-down h.p. gnome appeared. produced the machine with h.p. salmson engine on which the late mr. moorhouse flew the channel with mrs. moorhouse and mr. ledeboer as passengers; also the machine with h.p. horizontal salmson, known as the "whitebait." the last before the war was the rigid wing machine with h.p. salmson. [illustration: plate xix.] the cody.--first the military experiment of , with an antoinette engine, then improved type with a green engine. next the "cathedral," , with a green engine, which won michelin prize. in "daily mail" circuit machine, also with a green, won the michelin. this was modified into type which won military competition and £ , in prizes, with an austro-daimler engine, and later the michelin circuit prize, again with a green. the only cody monoplane was built. a modified biplane on which the great pioneer was killed. [illustration: plate xx.] the nieuport.--the first nieuport of was curiously like a monoplane version of a caudron. in came the little two-cylinder machine with fixed tail-plane and universally jointed tail. in the french trials machine was built with h.p. cylinder gnome, and is typical of this make. also the little two-cylinder record breaker. a modification of was the height record machine of the late m. legagneux. [illustration: plate xxi.] the r.e.p. monoplanes.--first came the curious and highly interesting experiments of , , , and . - , the world's distance record breaker was produced; after it, the "european circuit," all with r.e.p. engines. in - came the french military type with gnome engine and finally the "parasol," . [illustration: plate xxii.] the morane: first the european circuit and paris-madrid type. then the types, with taper wing and modern type wing. the types, the "clipped wing," flown by the late mr. hamel, one of the standard tandem types now in use. about the same time came the "parasol." - came a little biplane like a nieuport, and the "destroyer" type with a round section body, flown by vedrines. [illustration: plate xxiii.] the voisin.-- , the first properly controlled flight on a european aeroplane was made on a voisin of the type shown with fixed engine. then followed the record breaker of with a gnome engine. in also the only voisin tractor was produced. the paris-bordeaux type was built; the amphibious "canard" and the "military" type with extensions, and the type without an elevator. came the type with only two tail-booms and a geared-down engine, which developed into the big "gun" machine with a salmson engine. [illustration: plate xxiv.] the hanriot and ponnier monoplanes.--in came the first hanriot with h.p. -cylinder buchet engine, and in the famous "henrietta" type with e.n.vs. and stationary clergets. came the clerget two-seater entered in french military trials, and the h.p. hanriot-pagny monoplane which took part in british military trials. sister machines of the same year were the single seater with h.p. gnome and the h.p. gnome racer with stripped chassis. in the ponnier-pagny racing monoplane with h.p. le rhone competed in the gordon-bennett race, doing about miles in the hour. the h.p. ponnier biplane was the first successful french scout tractor biplane. [illustration: plate xxv.] the wright biplane.--the first power flights were made, , on a converted glider fitted with h.p. motor. the prone position of the pilot will be noted. by the machine had become reasonably practical with h.p. motor. on this the first real flying in the world was done. in the miniature racing wright was produced; also the type with a rear elevator in addition to one in front. soon afterwards the front elevator disappeared, and the machine became the standard american exhibition and school machine for four years. in a machine with enclosed fuselage was produced. [illustration: plate xxvi.] the blackburn monoplanes.--in was built the curious four-wheeled parasol-type machine with h.p. green engine and chain transmission, on which flying was done at saltburn. in the isaacson-engined machine was built, together with a h.p. gnome single-seater on which mr. hucks started in the circuit of britain race. in another h.p. single-seater was built on which a good deal of school work was done. a more advanced machine appeared in and a two-seater with h.p. gnome did a great deal of cross-country work in - . [illustration: plate xxvii.] in the first antoinette monoplane was produced by mm. gastambide and mengin. then followed a machine with central skids, a single wheel, and wing skids. in came the machine with four-wheeled chassis and ailerons and later an improved edition which reverted to the central skid idea. on this m. latham made his first cross-channel attempt. the next machine shed the wing skids and widened its wheelbase. during - the ailerons vanished, warp control was adopted and the king-post system of wing-bracing was used. in the curious machine with streamlined "pantalette" chassis, totally enclosed body and internal wing-bracing, was produced for french military trials. in the three-wheeled machine was used to a certain extent in the french army. then the type disappeared. [illustration: plate xxviii.] in and detached experimental machines in various countries attained a certain success. the late capt. ferber made a primitive tractor biplane . the odier-vendome biplane was a curious bat-winged pusher biplane built . the tailless etrich monoplane, built in austria, , was an adaptation of the zanonia leaf. m. santos-dumont made primitive parasol type monoplanes known as "demoiselles," in which bamboo was largely used. type is seen above. a curious steel monoplane was built by the late john moisant, . the twin-pusher biplane, built by the barnwell bros. in scotland, made one or two straight flights in . the clement-bayard co. in france constructed in a biplane which did fairly well. hans grade, the first german to fly, made his early efforts on a "demoiselle" type machine, . [illustration: plate xxix.] in a number of novel machines were produced. the avis with anzani engine was flown by the hon. alan boyle. note the cruciform universally jointed tail. the goupy with h.p. gnome was an early french tractor, notable for its hinging wing-tips. the farman was a curious "knock-up" job, chiefly composed of standard box-kite fittings. the sommer with h.p. gnome was a development of the box-kite with a shock-breaking chassis. the savary, also french, was one of the first twin tractors to fly. the model illustrated had an e.n.v. engine. note position of the rudders on the wing tips. the austrian etrich was the first successful machine of the taube class ever built. [illustration: plate xxx.] interesting machines, .--the werner monoplane with e.n.v. engine, combined shaft and chain drive, was a variant of the de pischoff. the macfie biplane was a conventional biplane with h.p. gnome and useful originalities. the valkyrie monoplane, another british machine, was a "canard" monoplane with propeller behind the pilot and in front of main plane. the weiss monoplane was a good british effort at inherent stability. the tellier monoplane was a modified bleriot with antoinette proportions. the howard wright biplane was a pusher with large lifting monoplane tail. the dunne biplane was another british attempt at inherent stability. the jezzi biplane was an amateur built twin-propeller. [illustration: plate xxxi.] some interesting machines, .--the compton-paterson biplane was very similar to the early curtiss pusher; it had a h.p. gnome. the sloan bicurve was a french attempt at inherent stability with h.p. gnome and tractor screw. the paulhan biplane was an attempt at a machine for military purposes to fold up readily for transport. the sanders was a british biplane intended for rough service. the barnwell monoplane was the first scottish machine to fly; it had a horizontally opposed scottish engine. the harlan monoplane was an early german effort; note position of petrol tank. [illustration: plate xxxii.] the clement-bayard monoplane, , was convertible into a tractor biplane. the standard engine was a h.p. gnome. the machine was interesting, but never did much. the zodiac was one of the earliest to employ staggered wings. with h.p. gnome engine it was badly underpowered, so never did itself justice. the jezzi tractor biplane, , was a development of an earlier model built entirely by mr. jezzi, an amateur constructor. with a low-powered j.a.p. engine it developed an amazing turn of speed, and it may be regarded as a forerunner of the scout type and the properly streamlined aeroplane. the paulhan-tatin monoplane, , was a brilliant attempt at high speed for low power; it presented certain advantages as a scout. a h.p. gnome, fitted behind the pilot's seat in the streamlined fuselage, was cooled through louvres. the propeller at the end of the tail was connected with the engine by a flexible coupling. this machine was, in its day, the fastest for its power in the world, doing miles per hour. viking was a twin tractor biplane driven by a h.p. gnome engine through chains. it was built by the author at hendon in . [illustration: plate xxxiii.] much ingenuity was exerted by the french designers in to produce machines for the military trials. among them was the h.p. gnome-borel monoplane with a four-wheeled chassis, and the astra triplane with a h.p. renault engine. this last had a surface of about square feet and presented considerable possibilities. its principal feature was its enormous wheels with large size tyres as an attempt to solve difficulties of the severe landing tests. the clement-bayard biplane was a further development of the clement-bayard monoplane; the type represented could be converted into a monoplane at will. the lohner arrow biplane with the daimler engine was an early german tractor biplane built with a view to inherent stability, and proved very successful. the pivot monoplane was of somewhat unconventional french construction, chiefly notable for the special spring chassis and pivoted ailerons at the main planes; this pivoting had nothing to do with the name of the machine, which was designed by m. pivot. [illustration: plate xxxiv.] the flanders monoplane, , with h.p. renault engine, was one of the last fitted with king-post system of wing bracing. the flanders biplane entered for british military trials. notable features: the highly staggered planes, extremely low chassis and deep fuselage. also, the upper plane was bigger in every dimension than the lower; about the first instance of this practice. the bristol biplane, with h.p. gnome engine, was also entered for the trials, but ultimately withdrawn. the mars monoplane, later known as the "d.f.w.," was a successful machine of taube type with h.p. austro-daimler engine. the building of the engine into a cowl, complete with radiator in front, followed car practice very closely. the tail of the monoplane had a flexible trailing edge; its angle of incidence could be varied from the pilot's seat, so that perfect longitudinal balance was attained at all loadings and speeds. the handley-page monoplane, with h.p. gnome engine, was an early successful british attempt at inherent stability. [illustration: plate xxxv.] the sommer monoplane, with h.p. gnome, was a - machine; it did a good deal of cross-country flying. the vendome monoplane of , also with h.p. gnome engine, was notable chiefly for its large wheels and jointed fuselage, which enabled the machine to be taken down for transport. the savary biplane took part in the french military trials, . it had a four-cylinder labor aviation motor. notable features are twin chain-driven propellers, rudders between the main planes, the broad wheel-base and the position of the pilot. the paulhan triplane, which also figured in the french military trials, was a development of the paulhan folding biplane. it had a h.p. renault engine. for practical purposes it was a failure. the r.e.p. biplane, with h.p. r.e.p. engine, was a development of the famous r.e.p. monoplanes. its spring chassis, with sliding joints, marked an advance. like the monoplanes, it was built largely of steel. [illustration: plate xxxvi.] in came the first really successful handley-page monoplane, with h.p. gnome engine. the short monoplane, was built generally on bleriot lines. its chassis was an original feature. the coventry ordnance biplane was a two-seater tractor built for the british military trials. it had a h.p. -cylinder gnome engine, with propeller geared down through a chain drive. the machine was an interesting experiment, but not an unqualified success. the moreau "aerostable," fitted with a h.p. gnome, was a french attempt to obtain automatic stability, but it only operated longitudinally. the pilot's nacelle was pivoted under the main planes, wires were attached to the control members so that the movements of the nacelle in its efforts to keep a level keel brought them into operation. the mersey monoplane, an entrant for the british military trials, was designed to present a clear field of view and fire. the h.p. isaacson engine was connected by a shaft to a propeller mounted behind the nacelle on the top tail boom. it was a promising experiment, but came to grief. the radley-moorhouse monoplane was a sporting type machine on bleriot lines, with h.p. gnome engine. it was notable for its streamlined body and disc wheels. none note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see -h.htm or -h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h/ -h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h.zip) round the world in seven days by herbert strang illustrated by a. c. michael contents chapter. prelude i the cablegram ii eastward ho! iii across europe to the bosphorus iv a flying visit v the tomb of ur-gur vi with gun runners in the gulf vii the white djinn viii a ship on fire ix a passenger for penang interlude x some praus and a junk xi australian hospitality xii stalked by pigmies xiii the rescue xiv sir matthew improves the occasion xv herr schwankmacher's cabbages xvi a stop-press message xvii a midnight vigil xviii the last lap postscript prelude lieutenant george underhill, commanding h.m. surveying ship _albatross_, had an unpleasant shock when he turned out of his bunk at daybreak one morning. the barometer stood at . '. for two or three days the vessel had encountered dirty weather, but there had been signs of improvement when he turned in, and it was decidedly disconcerting to find that the glass had fallen. his vessel was a small one, and he was a little uneasy at the prospect of being caught by a cyclone while in the imperfectly-charted waters of the solomon islands. he was approaching the eastern shore of ysabel island, whose steep cliffs were covered with a lurid bank of cloud. if the shore was like those of the other islands of the group, it would be, he knew, a maze of bays, islets, barrier reefs, and intricate channels amid which, even in calm weather, a vessel would run a considerable risk of grounding, a risk that would be multiplied in a storm. anxiously noting the weather signs, underhill hoped that he might reach a safe anchorage before the threatening cyclone burst upon him. as is the way with cyclones, it smote the vessel almost without warning. a howling squall tore out of the east, catching the ship nearly abeam, and making her shudder; then, after a brief lull, came another and even a fiercer blast, and in a few minutes the wind increased to a roaring hurricane, enveloping the ship in a mist of driving rain that half choked the officers and crew as they crouched under the lee of the bulwarks and the deckhouse. the _albatross_ was a gallant little vessel, and underhill, now that what he dreaded had happened, hoped at least to keep her off the shore until the fury of the storm had abated. for a time she thrashed her way doggedly through the boiling sea; but all at once she staggered, heeled over, and then, refusing to answer the helm, began to rush headlong upon the rocks, now visible through the mist. "propeller shaft broken, sir," came the cry from below to underhill as he stood clinging to the rail of the bridge. he felt his utter helplessness. he could not even let go an anchor, for no one could stand on deck against the force of the wind. he could only cling to his place and see the vessel driven ashore, without being able to lift a hand to save her. suddenly he was conscious of a grating, grinding sensation beneath his feet, and knew that the vessel had struck a coral reef. she swung round broadside to the wind; the boats on the weather side were wrenched from their davits and hurled away in splinters; and in the midst of such fury and turmoil there was no possibility of launching the remaining two boats and escaping from the doomed vessel. all hands had rushed on deck, and clung to rails and stays and whatever else afforded a hold. among those who staggered from the companion way was a tall thin man, spectacled, with iron-grey hair and beard, and somewhat rounded shoulders. linking arms with him was a young man of twenty-two or twenty-three: the likeness between them proclaimed them father and son. the older man was dr. thesiger smith, the famous geologist, in furtherance of whose work the _albatross_ was making this voyage. the younger man was his second son tom, who, after a distinguished career at cambridge, had come out to act as his father's assistant. underhill knew by the jerking and grinding he felt beneath him that his ill-fated vessel was being slowly forced over the reef towards the shore. his first lieutenant, venables, crawled up to the bridge, and, bawling into his ear, asked if anything could be done. the lieutenant shook his head. "water's within two feet of the upper deck forward, sir," shouted venables; "abaft it is three feet above the keelson." "get the lifebuoys," was the brief reply. venables crawled down again, and with the assistance of some of the crew unlashed the lifebuoys and distributed them among the company. meanwhile the progress of the vessel shorewards had been suddenly checked. she came up with a jerk, and underhill guessed that her nose had stuck fast in a hollow of the reef, and prayed that the storm would abate for just so long as would enable him to get the boats clear and make for the land before the ship broke up. but for a good half-hour longer the hurricane blew with undiminished force, and it was as much as every man could do to avoid being washed away by the mountainous seas that broke over the vessel. at length, however, there came a sudden change. the uproar ceased as by magic, and there fell a dead calm. underhill was not deceived. he judged that the vessel was now in the centre of the cyclone; the calm might last for forty or fifty minutes, then a renewal of the hurricane was almost certainly to be expected. without the loss of a moment he gave his orders. the boats were made ready; into one they put arms, ammunition, and tools, together with the ship's papers and chronometer, a compass, and dr. thesiger smith's specimens and diaries; into the other more ammunition, and a portion of what provisions could be collected from above or below water. the boats were lowered, the men dropped into them and pulled off, leaving underhill and two or three of the crew still on the vessel to collect the remainder of the provisions and whatever else seemed worth saving. the sea was so high that the boats had much difficulty in making the shore; but they reached it safely, and one of them, after being rapidly unloaded, returned for the commander. before it regained the ship, underhill felt a light puff of wind from the south-west. lifting a megaphone, he roared to the men to pull for their lives. the boat came alongside; it had scarcely received its load when the hurricane once more burst upon them, this time from the opposite quarter. underhill leapt down among his men, and ordered them to give way. before they had pulled a dozen strokes the storm was at its height, but the force of the wind was now somewhat broken by the trees and rocks of the island. even so it was hard work, rowing in the teeth of the blast, the boat being every moment in danger of swamping by the tremendous seas. underhill, at the tiller, set his teeth, and anxiously watched the advancing cliffs, at the foot of which the remainder of his company stood. the boat was within twenty yards of them when a huge wave fell on it as it were out of the sky. it sank like lead. thanks to the lifebuoys underhill and the men rose quickly to the surface. two of them, who could not swim, cried out despairingly for help. underhill seized one and held him up; the other was saved by the promptitude of young smith. seeing their plight, he caught up a rope which had been brought ashore, and flung it among the group of men struggling in the water. the drowning man clutched it, the others swam to it, and by its aid all were drawn ashore, gasping for breath, and sorely battered by the jagged rocks. "all safe, thank heaven!" said underhill, as he joined the others; "but i'm sorry we've lost the boat." the shipwrecked party found themselves on a narrow beach, behind which rose steep cliffs, rugged and difficult to climb. against these they crouched to find some shelter from the storm, and watch the gradual dismemberment of the ill-fated _albatross_. wave after wave broke over her, the spray dashing so high that even her funnel sometimes disappeared from view. the spectators held their breath: could she live out the storm? at last a tremendous sea swept her from the hollow in which she was wedged, and she plunged beneath the waters. chapter i the cablegram "tenez! up! up! ah ça! a clean shave, mister, hein?" a touch on the lever had sent the aeroplane soaring aloft at a steep angle, and she cleared by little more than a hair's breadth the edge of a thick plantation of firs. "a close shave, as you say, roddy," came the answer. and then the speaker let forth a gust of wrathful language which his companion heard in sympathetic silence. lieutenant charles thesiger smith, of h.m.s. _imperturbable_, was normally a good-tempered fellow, and his outburst would have deceived nobody who knew him so well as laurent rodier. it was the dusk of an evening in mid spring. above, the sky was clear, washed by the rain that had fallen without intermission since early morning. below, the chill of coming night, acting on the moisture-laden air, had covered the land with a white mist, that curled and heaved beneath the aeroplane in huge waves. it looked like a billowy sea of cotton-wool, but the airmen who had just emerged from it, had no comfort in its soft embrace. their eyes were smarting, they drew their breath painfully, and little streams of water trickling from the soaked planes made cold, shuddering streaks on their faces and necks. an hour ago they had sailed by salisbury spire, calculating that a few minutes' run, at two or three miles a minute, would bring them to their destination on the outskirts of portsmouth. but a few miles south the baffling mist had made its appearance, and smith found himself bereft of landmarks, and compelled to tack to and fro in utter uncertainty of his course. he was as much at a loss as if he were navigating a vessel in a sea-fog. to sail through the mist was to incur the risk of striking a tree, a chimney, or a church steeple; to pursue his flight above it in the deepening dusk might carry him miles out of his way, and though a southerly course must presently bring him to the sea, he could not tell how far east or west of his intended landing-place. meanwhile the petrol was running short, and it was clear that before long his dilemma would be solved by the engine stopping, and bringing him to the ground willy-nilly, goodness knows where. this was vexing enough, but in the particular circumstances it was a crowning stroke of misfortune. to-day was the twenty-first of his twenty-eight days' leave: to-morrow he was to begin a round of what he called duty visits among his relatives; he would have to motor, play golf, dance attendance on girls at theatres and concerts, and spur himself to a thousand activities that he detested. there was no escape for him. perhaps he could have faced this seven days' penance more equably if he had had the recollection of three well-employed weeks to sweeten it. even this was denied him. ever since he came on leave the weather had been abominable: high wind, incessant rain, all the elements conspiring to prevent the enjoyment of his hobby. rodier had suggested that he should apply for an extension of leave, but smith, though he did not lack courage, could not screw it to this pitch. he remembered too vividly his interview with the captain when coming off ship. "don't smash yourself up," said the captain, "and don't run things too fine. you're always late in getting back from leave. last time you only got in by the skin of your teeth, when we were off shooting, too. if you overstep the mark again you'll find yourself brought up with a round turn, you may take my word for it." "i couldn't beg off after that," he said to rodier. "anyway, it's rotten bad luck." "précisément ca!" said rodier sympathetically. for some little time they sailed slowly on, seeking in vain for a rift in the blanket of mist: then rodier cried suddenly-- "better take a drop, mister. in three minutes all the petrol is gone, and then--" "i'm afraid you're right, roddy, but goodness knows what we shall fall on. we must take our chance, i suppose." he adjusted the planes, so as to make a gradual descent while the engine still enabled him to keep way on the machine, and it sank into the mist. both men kept a sharp look-out, knowing well that to encounter a branch of a tree or a chimney-stack might at any moment bring the voyage, the aeroplane, and themselves to an untimely end. all at once, without warning, a large dark shape loomed out of the mist. smith instantly warped his planes, and the machine dived so precipitately as almost to throw him from his seat. next moment there was a shock; he was flung headlong forward, and found himself sprawling half suffocated on a damp yielding mass, which, when he had recovered his wits, he knew to be the unthatched top of a hayrick. his first thought was for the aeroplane. raising himself, and dashing the clinging hay wisps from his face, he shouted-- "is she smashed, roddy?" "ah, no, mister," came the answering cry. "she stick fast, and me also." smith crawled to the edge of the rick and dropped to the ground. two or three dogs were barking furiously somewhere in the neighbourhood. a few steps brought him to the aeroplane, lying in a slanting position between the hayrick and a fence, over which it projected. rodier had clung to his seat, and had suffered nothing worse than a jolting. "this is a pretty mess," said smith despairingly, "one end stuck fast in the hayrick, the other sticking over the fence: they'll have to pull it down before we can get her out. get off, you brute!" he exclaimed, as a dog came yapping at his legs. "seize him, pompey: seize him, good dog!" cried a rough voice. "call him off, or i'll break his head," cried smith in exasperation. "you will, will you?" roared the farmer. "i'll teach you to come breaking into my yard: i'll have the law of you." "don't be absurd, man," replied smith, fending off the dog as well as he could. "don't you see i've had an accident?" "accident be jiggered!" said the farmer. "you don't come breaking into my yard by accident. better stand quiet or he'll tear you to bits." "oh, come now!" said smith. "look at this. here's my aeroplane, fixed up here. you don't suppose i came down here on purpose? i lost my way in this confounded mist, and don't know where i am. just be sensible, there's a decent chap, and get some of your men to help us out. i'll pay damages." "i'll take care of that," said the farmer curtly. "what the country's coming to i don't know, what with motors killing us on the roads and now these here airyplanes making the very air above us poison to breathe. there ought to be a law to stop it, that's what _i_ say. down, pompey! what's your name, mister?" smith explained, asking in his turn the name of the place where he had alighted. farmer barton was a good patriot, and the knowledge that the intruder was a navy-man sensibly moderated his truculence. "why, this be firtop farm, half-a-mile from mottisfont station, if you know where that is," he said. "daze me if you hain't been and cut into my hayrick!" he sniffed. "and what's this horrible smell? i do believe you've spoilt the whole lot with your stinking oil." he was getting angry again. "well, i've said i'll pay for it," said smith impatiently. "get your men, farmer, or i shan't be home to-night. i suppose i can get some petrol somewhere about here?" "you might, or you might not, in the village; i can't say. my men are abed and asleep, long ago. you'll have to bide till morning." "oh well, if i must, i must. roddy, just have a look at the machine and see that she's safe for the night. i'll run down to the station and send a wire home, and then get beds in the village." "better be sharp, then," said the farmer. "you can't send no wire after eight, and it's pretty near that now. i'll show you the way." smith hurried to the station and despatched his telegram; then, learning that there was a train due at . from andover, he decided to wait a few minutes and get an evening paper. an aviation meeting had just been held at tours, and he was anxious to see how the english competitors had fared. the train was only a few minutes late. smith asked the guard whether he had brought any papers, and to his vexation learnt that, there being no bookstall at mottisfont, there were none for that station. however, the guard himself had bought a paper before leaving waterloo. "take it and welcome, sir," he said. "i've done with it. you're lieutenant smith, if i'm not mistaken. seen your portrait in the papers,' sir." "thanks, guard," said smith, pressing a coin into his reluctant hand. "englishmen doing well in france, sir. hope to see you a prize-winner one of these days. goodnight!" the train rumbled off, and smith scanned the columns by the light of a platform lamp. he read the report of the meeting in which he was interested: a frenchman had made a new record in altitude; an englishman had won a fine race, coming in first of ten competitors; a terrible accident had befallen a well-known airman at the moment of descending. the most interesting piece of news was that a frenchman had maintained for three hours an average speed of a hundred and twenty miles. "i'm only just in time," said smith to himself. he was folding the paper when his eye was caught by a heading that recalled the days of his boyhood, when he had revelled in stories of savages, pirates, and the hundred and one themes that fascinate the ingenuous mind. shipwrecked among cannibals. terrible situation of famous scientist. (from our own correspondent.) brisbane, thursday. a barque put in here to-day with four men picked up from an open boat south of new guinea, who reported that the government survey vessel albatross has run ashore in a storm on ysabel island, one of the solomon group. the crew and passengers, including dr. thesiger smith, the famous geologist, were saved, but the vessel is a complete wreck, and the unfortunate people were compelled to camp on the shore. they are very short of provisions, and being practically unarmed are in great danger of being massacred by the natives, who are believed to be one of the fiercest cannibal tribes in the south sea. four of the crew put off in the ship's boat to seek assistance, but they lost their mast and had to rely on the oars, and drifted for several days before being picked up in the coral sea. a gunboat will be despatched immediately, but since it cannot reach the island for at least five days, it is greatly to be feared that it will arrive only to find that help has come too late. smith ran his eyes rapidly over the lines, then folded the paper, and put it into his pocket. he did not notice that his hand was trembling. the station-master looked curiously after him as he strode away with set face. "seems to have had bad news," he said to his head porter. "bin plungin' on a wrong un, maybe," replied the porter. smith left the station, and hastened down the road towards the farm. he had clean forgotten his intention of bespeaking beds in the village; indeed, he walked as one insensible to all around him until he caught sight of the word garage, painted in large white letters, illuminated by an electric lamp, over a gateway at the side of the road. then he swung round and, passing through the gate, came to a lighted shed where he found a man cleaning a motor car. "any petrol to be got here?" he asked quickly. "as much as we're allowed to keep, sir," replied the man. "send a can at once to firtop farm, down the road." he turned, and was quitting the shed when a word from the man recalled him. "beg pardon, sir, but--" "oh, here's your money," cried smith, handing him a crown-piece. "be quick. by the way, can you lend me two or three men for half-an-hour or so at five shillings an hour?" "right you are, sir," was the reply. "i'm one; i'll get you a couple more in no time. be there as soon as you, sir." smith hurried away. on reaching the farm he found that rodier and the farmer were engaged in a friendly conversation, by the light of a carriage lamp which flickered wanly in the mist. "wonderful machine, sir," said the farmer, whom rodier had talked out of his ill-humour. "your man has been showing me over it, as you may say, leastways as well as he could in this fog." "we must get her out at once," rejoined smith. "some men are coming up. we must get on to-night." "good sakes! that's impossible. she lies right athwart the fence, and you'll have to rig a crane to lift her." "the fence must come down. i'll pay." "but drat it all--" "look here, farmer, it's got to be done. here are the men; just oblige me by showing them a light at the fence, and set them to take down enough of it to free the aeroplane--carefully; i don't want it smashed. there's a sovereign on account; you shall have a cheque for the rest when you send in the bill." apparently the magic touch of gold reconciled the farmer to these hasty proceedings, for he made no more ado, but took the lamp and bade the three men to follow him. "what's wrong, mister?" asked rodier. "you look as if you had been shocked." smith drew the paper from his pocket, gave it to rodier, and then, striking a match, showed him the paragraph, and lighted more matches while he read it. "mon dieu!" ejaculated the frenchman, when he was halfway through. "it is your father!" "yes; my brother is with him. i must get home; it will kill my mother if she sees this." rodier read the paragraph to the end. "my word, it is bad business," he said. "these cannibals!... and they have no arms. what horror!" smith left him abruptly and walked to the fence to see how the work of dismantling it was proceeding. rodier whistled, and thrusting his hands into his pockets, sat down on a bag of straw and appeared to be deep in a brown study. sounds of hammering came from the fence; a light breeze was scattering the mist, and he could now see clearly the three men under the farmer's direction carefully removing the fencing beneath the aeroplane. rodier watched them for a few minutes, but an onlooker would have gathered the impression that his thoughts were far away. suddenly he sprang up, muttering, "ah! on peut le faire, quand même. courage, mon ami!" and hastened to rejoin his employer. "what distance, mister," he said, "from here to there--to the cannibals?" "thirteen thousand miles, i suppose, more or less." "ah!" the frenchman's face fell. "thirteen thousand!" he repeated, then was silent for a while, touching his brow as if making some abstruse calculation. smith turned away. "ah! qu'importe?" cried rodier, after a few moments. "on peut le faire!" he hastened to smith, drew him aside, and spoke rapidly to him for a few moments. the look of doubt that first came to smith's face was soon replaced by a look of confidence. he engaged in a hurried colloquy with his man, at the close of which they shook hands heartily and went to the fence to lend a hand there. in half-an-hour the work was done; the fence was down, and the six men carefully dragged and lifted the aeroplane over the débris, and placed it on the road outside. while rodier made a rapid examination of it, to see that no damage had been done, smith got the men to empty into the tank the can of petrol they had brought, paid them for their work, and handed his card to the farmer. "send in your bill," he cried. "ready, roddy?" "all right, mister." they jumped into their seats. smith called to the men to stand clear, and pulled the lever. at the same moment rodier switched on the searchlight. the propellers flew round with deafening whirr; the aeroplane shot forward for thirty or forty yards along the road, then rose like a bird into the air. the men stood with mouths agape as the machine flew over the tree-tops, its light diminishing to a pin-point, its clamour sinking to the quiet hum of a bee, and then fading away altogether. in a minute it had totally disappeared. "daze me if ever i seed anything like that afore," said the farmer. "a mile a minute, what?" "more like two," said the motorman. "i lay she'll be in portsmouth afore i'm half-a-mile up road. good-night, farmer, i'm off to the three waggoners." "bust if i don't go, too. there be summat to wet our whistles on to-night, eh, men?" chapter ii eastward ho! before the farmer reached the hospitable door of the three waggoners, smith had made his descent upon a broad open space in his father's park near cosham. there stood the large shed in which he housed the aeroplane; adjoining it were a number of workshops. it was quite dark now, and no one was about; but smith clearly had no intention of putting his machine up for the night. as soon as he came to the ground he hurried off on foot in one direction, rodier on a bicycle in another, their purposeful movements betokening a course of action arranged during the few minutes' conversation at the farm. smith walked rapidly through the park, and, entering the house, found his mother placidly knitting on a settee in the large old-fashioned hall. "ah, my dear boy," she said, as he appeared; "how late you are, and how dirty! we have waited dinner for you." "you shouldn't have done that, mother," he replied cheerfully; "though it's very good of you." "well, you see, it's your last night with us for ever so long, and with tom and your father away--" "yes, i'm sorry i'm so late," smith broke in hastily. "we were caught in a mist. i shan't be ten minutes changing." he ran up the stairs, and before going to his room put his head in at the door of his sister's. "you there, kate? you didn't get my telegram, then? come to my room in ten minutes, will you? i want to see you particularly before dinner." with a seaman's quickness he was bathed and dressed within the time he had named. "come in," he said, as his sister tapped. "you've got a pretty cool head, sis; look at this, quickly." he handed her the evening paper, pointing out the fateful paragraph. kate went a little pale as she read it; her bosom heaved, but she said nothing. "it must be kept from mother," he said. "get hold of to-morrow's paper, and if the paragraph is there, cut it out or tear off the page." "but people will write, or call. they are sure to speak of it." "that's your chance. intercept 'em. you always read the mater's letters to her, don't you? keep the servants' mouths shut. and i want you to write for me to all those people and cry off; pressing business--any excuse you like." "but you, charley?" "i'm off to london, to-night; must see what can be done for the old dad, you know." "how shall we explain to mother? she has been looking forward to your spending your last night at home." "roddy will come up by and by with an urgent telephone message. the mater is so used to that sort of thing that she won't smell a rat." "how you think of everything, charley! but i'm afraid mother will notice something in our manner at dinner." "not if we're careful. you take your cue from me. come along!" no one would have guessed at that dinner table that anything was amiss. smith seemed to be in the highest spirits, talking incessantly, describing his sudden descent on firtop farm and his interview with the farmer so racily that his mother laughed gently, and even kate, for all her anxiety, smiled. in the middle of the meal the belated telegram arrived, giving smith an opportunity for poking fun at official slowness. dinner was hardly over when a servant announced that mr. rodier was below, asking to see mr. smith upon particular business. smith slowly lighted a cigarette before he left the room. he found rodier in the hall. "got it, roddy?" he asked. "yes, i ask for globe: mr. dawkins give me first a pink paper. 'sad news this!' says he." "i hope to goodness he'll hold his tongue about it." "he must have it back to-morrow, he said. the inspector is coming." "all right. now cut off to the housekeeper and stroke as hard as you can. i don't know when you'll get another meal." returning to the dining-room, smith said-- "sorry, mater, i've got to go to london at once. too bad, isn't it, spoiling our last night. ah well! it can't be helped." "is it admiralty business, charley?" asked his mother. "well, not exactly; something about a wreck, i think." "i suppose i had better send on your things to the leslies in the morning?" "i'll send you a wire. i mayn't go there, after all. nuisance having to change again, isn't it?" he hastened from the room, got into his air-man suit, covered it with an overall, emptied his cash-box into his pocket, and returned to say good-bye. kate accompanied him to the door. "buck up, old girl," he said, as he kissed her. "i'll let you know what happens, if i can. by the way, there's a globe in the shed i want you to send back to dawkins, the school-master, first thing to-morrow. good-bye! send roddy after me as soon as he has finished his grub." he hurried through the park, and coming to the shed, switched on the electric light, which revealed a litter of all sorts of objects: models, parts of machinery, including an aero-cycle on which he had spent many fruitless hours, and, on a bench, a small geographical globe of the world. taking up a piece of string, he made certain measurements on the globe, jotting down sundry names and rows of figures on a piece of paper. then he went to a telephone box in a corner of the shed, and rang up a certain club in london, asking if mr. william barracombe was there. after the interval usual in trunk calls, he began-- "that you, billy? good! thought i'd catch you. can you give me an hour or two?... what?... no: not this time. no time for explanations just now.... right!... exactly: nothing ever surprises you." (a smile flickered on his face.) "well, i want you to wire to constantinople--con-stant-i-no-ple--to some decent firm, and arrange for them to have eighty gallons of petrol and sixteen of lubricating oil ready first thing to-morrow.... yes, to the order of lieutenant smith.... also means of transport, motor if possible: if not, horses.--i say, central, don't cut me off, please. yes, i know my time's up: i'll renew.--you there, billy? that all right?... no, that's not all. i want you to meet me on epsom downs about midnight.... yes, coming by 'plane.... wait a bit. bring with you four bottles of bovril, couple of pounds meat lozenges, half-dozen tins sardines, bottle of brandy--yes, _and_ soda, as you say; couple of pounds chocolate, two tins coffee and milk.... no: i say, hold on.... also orographical maps--maps ... o-ro-graph-i-cal maps ... of asia minor, southern asia including india, straits settlements, polynesia.... i don't know: stanford's will be shut, but i _must_ have 'em.... that's up to you. bring 'em all down with you.... well, you'd better light a bonfire, so that i can tell where you are. you'll manage it? good man! see you about midnight then.... yes: i saw it; bad business. hope they'll manage to hold out.... tell you when i see you. goodbye!" he replaced the receiver, and turned to find rodier at his elbow. "now, roddy," he said, "we've got two hours. slip into it, man." for the next two hours they worked with scarcely the exchange of a word, overhauling every part of the engine quickly, but with methodical care, cleaning, oiling, testing the exhaust and the carburettor, filling the petrol tank and the reservoir of lubricating oil, examining the turbines and the propeller--not a square inch of the machinery escaped their attention. when their task was finished they were as hot and dirty as engine-drivers. they washed at a sink, filled two stone jars with water and placed them in the cage, adjusted the wind screens, and then sat down to rest and talk over things before starting on their night journey. smith pencilled some calculations on a piece of paper, referring more than once to the globe. then taking a clean piece, he drew up a schedule which had some resemblance to a railway timetable. "there! how does that strike you, roddy?" he said, when he had finished it. "it strikes me hot," said the frenchman. "what i mean, it will be hot work. but that is what i like." "so do i, so long as i can keep cool. at any rate we can start to the second. are you ready?" the sky was brilliant with stars when, just after midnight, they took their places in the aeroplane. twenty-five minutes' easy run, east-north-east, brought them within sight of the dull red glare northward that betrayed london. smith had so often made this journey that, even if the stars had been invisible, he could almost have directed his course by the lights of the villages and towns over which he passed. he knew them as well as a sailor knows the lights of the coast. just before half-past twelve, in a steep slope on his right, looming up black against the sky, he recognized box hill. passing this at a moderate pace, which allowed them to take a good look-out, they saw in a minute or two a small red flame flickering in the midst of a dark expanse. every second it grew larger as they approached; smith did not doubt it was the bonfire which he had asked his friend barracombe to kindle. dropping to the ground within a few feet of the fire, which turned out to be of considerable dimensions, he found a motor-car standing near it, and barracombe walking up and down. "well, old man," said barracombe, as smith alighted; "they call me a hustler, but you've hustled me this time. what in the world are you after?" "have you got the stuff?" returned smith with the curtness of an old friend. "yes; chocolate, bovril, the whole boiling; but--" "and the maps?" "_and_ the maps. a nice job i had to get them. all the shops were shut, of course. i stole 'em." "played the burglar?" "no. i went to the royal societies' club, and pinched them out of the library. posted a cheque to pay for 'em, but there was nobody about and i couldn't stop for red tape." "well, you're a big enough man to do such things with impunity. that's why i 'phoned you: knew you'd do it somehow." although barracombe was a potentate in the city, who controlled immense organizations, and held the threads of multifarious interests, he was very human at bottom, and smith liked him all the better for the glow of self-satisfaction that shone upon his face at this tribute to his omnipotence. "but now, what's it all mean, you beggar? are you off to reorganize the turkish navy or something?" "i'm off to the solomon islands." "what!" "that's it: going to have a shot at helping the poor old governor." "but, my dear fellow, he'll either be relieved or done for long before you can get there. the paper said they were practically unarmed." "exactly. i'm going to pick up some rifles and ammunition at one of the australian ports, and so help 'em to keep their end up until the gunboat reaches them. i'll probably get there a day before the boat." "but do you know how far it is? it's thirteen thousand miles or more." "i know. i'm going to have a try. i've got seven days to get there and back; then my leave's up. i can do it if the engine holds out, and if you'll help." "my dear chap, you know i'll do anything i can, but--well, upon my soul, you take my breath away. i'm not often surprised, but--what are you grinning at?" "at having knocked the wind out of your sails for once, old man. seriously, we've thought it out, roddy and i. we've more than once done a speed of a hundred and ninety. of course it's a different matter to keep it up for days on end, but how long have you had your motor-car?" "three months. why?" "and how often has it broken down?" "not at all; but i haven't done thirteen thousand miles at a go." "you've done more, with stoppages. well, i shall have stoppages--just long enough to clean and take in petrol and oil, and that's where i want your help. i want you to arrange for eighty gallons of petrol and sixteen of oil, to be ready for me at three places besides constantinople. here's the list; karachi, penang, and port darwin. could you cable me to the address in constantinople the names of firms at those places?" "of course. i'll look 'em up the first thing in the morning." "too late. it must be done to-night. if all goes well i shall be in constantinople soon after eight to-morrow--our time; and i must leave there in a couple of hours if i'm to stick to my programme." "very well. i'll look out some names as soon as i get back to town. you mean to keep me up all night. there you are, man; it's absurd; you can't drive night and day for seven days without sleep." "roddy and i shall have to take watch and watch." "but suppose you're caught in a storm; suppose the engine breaks down when you're over the sea--" "my dear chap, if we fall into the sea we shan't hurt ourselves so much as if it were land. i've got a couple of lifebuoys. if a storm comes on, too bad to sail through, we must come down and wait till it's over. of course any accident may stop us, even a speck of grit in the engine; but you're the last man in the world to be put off a thing by any bogey of what-might-be, and i'm going to look at the bright side. it's time i was off, so i'll take the things you've brought--oh, i see roddy has already shipped them, so i'll get aboard." "well, i wish you all the luck in the world. send me a wire when you land, will you, so that i may know how you are getting on." "if i have time. good-bye, old man; many thanks." they shook hands, and smith was just about to jump into his seat when there came the sound of galloping horses, and the incessant clanging of a bell. smith laughed. "your blaze has roused the epsom fire brigade," he said with a chuckle. "well, i thought i'd better make a big one to make sure of you," replied barracombe. smith waited with his hand on the lever until the fire-engine had dashed up. "what the blazes!" cried the captain, as he leapt from his seat, looking from the motor-car to the aeroplane with mingled amazement and indignation. "good-bye, billy," cried smith; "i'll leave you to explain." the propeller whirled round, the machine flew forwards, and in a few seconds was soaring with its booming hum into the air. smith glanced down and saw the fireman facing barracombe, his annoyance being evidently greater than his curiosity. he would have smiled if he could have heard barracombe's explanation. "w-w-why yes," he said, affecting a distressing stutter; "this kind of b-b-bonfire is a hobby of m-mine; it's about my only r-r-recreation. m-m-my name? certainly. my name's william bub-bub-barracombe, and you'll find me in, any day between t-ten and f-five, at mum-mum-mincing lane." chapter iii across europe to the bosphorous it had just turned half-past twelve on friday morning when smith said good-bye to his friend william barracombe on epsom downs. the sky was clear; the moon shone so brightly that by its light alone he could read the compass at his elbow, without the aid of the small electric lamp that hung above it. he set his course for the south-east, and flew with a light breeze at a speed of at least two hundred miles an hour. his machine was a biplane, and represented the work and thought of years. smith never minimized the part which laurent rodier had had in its construction; indeed, he was wont to say that without rodier he would have been nowhere. their acquaintance and comradeship had begun in the most accidental way. two years before, smith was taking part in an aeroplane race from paris to london. on reaching the channel, he found himself far ahead of all his competitors, except a frenchman, who, to his chagrin, managed to keep a lead of almost a mile. each carried a passenger. not long after leaving the french coast, a cloud of smoke suddenly appeared in the wake of the frenchman's aeroplane, and to smith's alarm the machine in a few seconds dropped into the sea. instantly he steered for the spot, and brought his own aeroplane to within a few feet of the water. to his surprise, he saw that part of the wreckage was floating, and a man, apparently only half conscious, was clinging to one of the stays. but for the engine having providentially become disconnected in the fall, the whole machine with its passengers must have sunk to the bottom. smith saw that it was impossible for him to rescue the man while he himself remained in his aeroplane, for the slightest touch upon the other would inevitably have submerged it. there was only one thing to do. leaving the aeroplane to the charge of his friend, he dived into the sea, and rising beside the man, seized him at the moment when his hold was relaxing, and contrived to hold him up until a fast motor launch, which had witnessed the accident, came up and rescued them both. the man proved to be the chauffeur of the aeroplane; his employer was drowned. smith lost the race, but he gained what was infinitely more valuable to him, the gratitude and devotion of laurent rodier. finding that the frenchman was an expert mechanician, smith took him into his employment. rodier turned out to be of a singularly inventive turn of mind, and the two, putting their heads together, evolved after long experiment a type of engine that enabled them to double the speed of the aeroplane. these aerial vessels had already attained a maximum of a hundred miles an hour, for progress had been rapid since paulhan's epoch-making flight from london to manchester. to the younger generation the aeroplane was becoming what the motor-car had been to their elders. it was now a handier, more compact, and more easily managed machine than the earlier types, and the risk of breakdown was no greater than in the motor-car of the roads. the engine seldom failed, as it was wont to do in the first years of aviation. the principal danger that airmen had to fear was disaster from strong squalls, or from vertical or spiral currents of air due to some peculiarity in the confirmation of the land beneath them. smith's engine was a compound turbine, reciprocating engines having proved extravagant in fuel. there were both a high and a low pressure turbine on the same shaft, which also drove the dynamo for the searchlight and the lamp illuminating the compass, and for igniting the explosive mixture. by means of an eccentric, moreover, the shaft worked a pump for compressing the mixture of hot air and petrol before ignition, the air being heated by passing through jackets round the high-pressure turbines. the framework of the planes consisted of hollow rods made of an aluminum alloy of high tensile strength, and the canvas stretched over the frames was laced with wire of the same material. to stiffen the planes, a bracket was clamped at the axis, and thin wire stays were strung top and bottom, as the masts of a yacht are supported. the airman was in some degree protected from the wind by a strong talc screen, also wire-laced; by means of this, and a light radiator worked by a number of accumulators, he was enabled to resist the cold, which had been so great a drawback to the pioneers of airmanship. in this aeroplane smith and rodier had made many a long expedition. they had found that the machine was capable of supporting a total weight of nearly , lbs., and since smith turned the scale at eleven stone eight, and rodier at ten stone, in their clothes, the total additional load they could carry was about lbs. eighty gallons of petrol weighed about lbs. with the cans, and twenty gallons of lubricating oil about lbs., so that there was a margin of nearly lbs. for food, rifles, and anything else there might be occasion for carrying at any stage of the journey. smith was in charge of the aeroplane attached to his ship, the admiralty having adopted the machine for scouting purposes. it was only recently that he had brought his own aeroplane to its present perfection, after laborious experiments in the workshops he established in the corner of his father's park, where he toiled incessantly whenever he could obtain leave, and where rodier was constantly employed. his machine had just completed its trials, and he expected to realize a considerable sum by his improvements. of this he had agreed to give rodier one half, and the frenchman had further stipulated that the improvements should be offered also to the french government. this being a matter of patriotism, smith readily consented, remarking with a laugh that he would not be the first to break the _entente cordiale_. just as a voyage round the world was a dream until drake accomplished it, so a flight round the world was the acme of every airman's ambition. it was the accident of his father's plight that crystallized in smith's mind the desires held in suspension there. the act was sudden: the idea had been long cherished. he had decided on his course after a careful examination of the globe borrowed from mr. dawkins, the village school-master. the most direct route from london to the solomon islands ran across norway and sweden, the white sea, northern siberia, manchuria, korea and japan, and thence to new guinea. but since it traversed some of the most desolate regions of the earth, where the indispensable supplies of petrol and machine oil could not be secured, he had chosen a route through fairly large centres of population, along which at the necessary intervals he could ensure, by aid of the telegraph, that the fuel would be in readiness. and now he was fairly off. constantinople was to be the first place of call. he knew the orographical map of europe as well as he knew his manual of navigation. it was advisable to avoid mountainous country as far as possible, for the necessity of rising to great heights, in order to cross even the lower spurs of the alps, would involve loss of time, to say nothing of the cold, and the risk of accident in the darkness. coming to the coast, in the neighbourhood of dover, about half-an-hour after leaving epsom, he steered for a point on the opposite shore of the channel somewhere near the franco-belgian frontier. as an experienced airman he had long ceased to find the interest of novelty in the scenes below him. the lights of the calais boat, and of vessels passing up and down the channel, were almost unnoticed. on leaving the sea, he flew over a flat country until, on his right, he saw in the moonlight a dark mass which from dead reckoning he thought must be the ardennes. the broad river he had just crossed, which gleamed like silver in the moonlight, was without doubt the meuse, and that which he came to in about an hour must be the moselle. at this point rodier, who had been dozing, sat up and began to take an interest in things; afterwards he told smith that they must have passed over the little village in which he was born, and he felt a sentimental regret that the flight was not by day, when he might have seen the red roof beneath which his mother still lived. after another half-hour smith began to feel the strain of remaining in one position, with all his faculties concentrated. the air was so calm, and the wind-screen so effective, that he suffered none of the numbing effects which the great speed might otherwise have induced; but it was no light task to keep his attention fixed at once on the engine, the map outspread before him, the compass, and the country below; and by the time he reached a still broader river, which could only be the rhine, he was tired. as yet he had been flying for only three hours: could he live through seven days of it? he had once crossed america in the canadian pacific, and though he got eight hours' sleep every night, he felt an utter wreck at the end of the journey. to be sure, he was now in the fresh air instead of a stuffy railway carriage, and he was riding as smoothly as on a steamer, without the jar and jolt that made journeys by rail so fatiguing. still, he thought it only good policy to pay heed to the first signs of strain, and so he slowed down until the noise of the engine had abated sufficiently for him to make his voice heard, and said: "roddy, you must take a turn. we're near the frontier between baden and alsace, i fancy. the bavarian hills can't be far off. you had better rise a bit, and don't go too fast, or we may be knocking our noses before we know where we are." "right o, mister," replied the frenchman. "you take forty winks, and eat some chocolate for what you call a nightcap." "a good idea. i'd rise to about , feet, i think. keep your eye on the aneroid." they exchanged places. smith ate two or three sticks of chocolate, took a good drink of water, and in five minutes was fast asleep. but his nap lasted no more than a couple of hours. it appeared to him that he never lost consciousness of his errand. when he opened his eyes the dawn was already stealing over the sky, and at the tremendous pace to which rodier had put the engine the aeroplane seemed to rush into the sunlight. far below, the earth was spread out like a patchwork, greens and whites and browns set in picturesque haphazard patterns; men moving like ants, and horses like locusts. "where are we?" he bawled in rodier's ear. the frenchman put his finger on the map. smith glanced at his watch; it was past five o'clock. they must be near the servian frontier. that broad streak of blue must be the danube. another three hours should see them at constantinople, the first stage of their journey. on they rushed, feeling chill in the morning air at the height of nearly five thousand feet. lifting his binocular, smith saw a railway train running in the same direction as themselves, and though from the line of smoke it was going at full speed, it appeared to be crawling like a worm, and was soon left far behind. now they were in bulgaria: those grey crinkly masses beyond must be the balkans. crossing the dragoman pass, they came into an upward current of air that set the machine rocking, and smith for the first time felt a touch of nervousness lest it should break down and fall among these inhospitable crags. rodier planed downwards, until they seemed to skim the crests. the air was calmer here: the aeroplane steadied; and when the mountains were left behind they came still lower, following the railway line. here was philippopolis, with its citadel perched on a frowning rock. it seemed but a few minutes when adrianople came into view, and but a few more when, descending to within five hundred feet of the ground, they raced over the plains of st. stefano. now rodier checked the speed a little, and steering past the large monument erected to the memory of the russians who fell in ' , came within sight of constantinople. smith was bewildered at the multitude of domes, minarets, and white roofs before him. it would soon be necessary to choose a landing-place, and rodier planed upwards, so that he could scan the whole neighbourhood in one comprehensive glance. "slow down!" smith shouted. there was a large open space below him; it was the hippodrome. he made a quick calculation of its length, and decided not to alight. a little farther on he came to the ministry of war with its large square; but there a regiment of soldiers was drilling. rodier steered a point to the north-west, and the aeroplane passed over the galata bridge that spans the golden horn. the bridge was thronged with people, who, as they caught sight of the strange machine flying over their heads, stood and craned their necks, and the airmen heard their shouts of amazement. to the right they saw, beyond the hill of pera, a stretch of low open country. passing the second bridge over the horn, they came to a broad green space just without the city. it was the old archery grounds of the sultans. "dive, roddy!" smith cried. rodier jerked the lever back: the humming clatter of the engine ceased; and the aeroplane swooped down as gracefully as a bird, alighting gently on the green sward. chapter iv a flying visit it was friday morning. groups of turkish women, out for the day, hastily veiled their faces and ran away, shrieking, "aman! aman! oh dear! oh dear!" swarms of children, clustering, like ants, about nougat-sellers, fled in terror, screaming that it was the devil's carriage, and the devil was in it. two greek teams playing at football stopped their game and gazed open-mouthed; young naval cadets at leapfrog rushed with shouts of excitement towards the aeroplane; and a crowd of jewish factory girls (for all races and classes use this common playground), realizing with quick wit what it meant, flocked up with shrill cries: "c'est un aviateur: allons voir!" a grave old turk mutters: "another mad englishman!" a greek shouts: "come on, pericles, and have a look"; and suddenly, amid the babel of unknown tongues smith hears an unmistakable english voice: "oh, confound it all, crawford, i'm in the ravine." peering through the crowd of inquisitive faces, smith sees two golfers and hails them heartily. they elbow their way through, and smith, who has not yet dared to leave the machine lest the mob should invade it and do it an injury, steps out and grasps the hand of a fellow englishman. "well, i'm hanged!" cried the new-comer; "charley smith, of all men in the world." "hullo, johnson!" said smith, recognizing in the speaker a messmate of his middy days, now a naval officer in the sultan's service; "i say, you can do something for me." "i dare say i can," replied the other laughing, "but where do you spring from? i didn't know you were in these parts." "only arrived five minutes ago, from london." johnson stared. "not in that machine?" "yes, certainly. eight hours' run; a record, isn't it? but i'm short of petrol. there's some ordered by wire from a man named benzonana; can you put me in the way of getting it quickly?" "of course. benzonana's a jew, with stores at kourshounlou han. but there's no hurry. we'll get some one to look after your aeroplane, and you'll come back with me to the club: this sort of thing doesn't happen every day, old man. by jove! do you really mean to say you've got here in eight hours from london?" "i left there at . this morning. barracombe--you remember him--saw me off. but i'm sorry i can't come with you, dick. i've only a couple of hours to spare, and must get the petrol at once." "my dear chap, are you mad? you can't go on at once, after eight hours in the air. you'll crock up. of course, if it's a wager--" "it's a matter of life and death." "oh, in that case! but i'm afraid you won't get off in two hours. things go slow in this country, and here's the first obstacle." he pointed beyond the crowd, and smith saw a troop of cavalry approaching at a hand-gallop. the throng of turks, jews, and armenians, who had all this time been volubly discussing the wonderful devil machine, broke apart with shouts of "yol ver! yol ver!" (make way!) the troop of horsemen clattered up, and smith saw himself and his aeroplane surrounded by a cordon of soldiers. the captain looked suspiciously from the two grimy travellers to the spick-and-span englishmen in golfing costume. he said something in turkish to his lieutenant. "what does he say?" asked smith in a whisper. "he's telling the lieutenant they must draw up a _procès-verbal_. don't lose your temper, old man; he talks of putting you under arrest as a bulgarian spy. you'll have to be patient. i'll do what i can, but if they make a diplomatic incident of it you'll be kept here a week or more." johnson went up to the captain and addressed him politely in turkish. the officer looked incredulous, and said something to his lieutenant, who trotted off across the field. in a few minutes johnson returned to smith, who was walking up and down in agitation. rodier was fast asleep in the car of the aeroplane. "i've given the captain the facts of the case," said johnson, "and he does me the honour to disbelieve me. the lieutenant has gone off to the ministry of war for instructions. meanwhile, you are under arrest, and they won't let you quit this spot without authority. if you really mean that you must go at once----" "i do indeed. the loss of an hour may ruin everything. my plan was to leave here at . ." "but, my dear fellow, it's that now, and past." smith drew out his watch: it indicated . . "london time," he said. "you're two hours in advance of it, aren't you?" johnson laughed. "of course, we get used to our own time, here. but i was saying, if you _must_ go, this is what i suggest. you can't appear, and it's as well, for you would certainly be delayed. i will go off to the embassy and hustle a bit. if the wheels can be hurried, they shall be, i assure you. then i'll go on to benzonana, get your petrol, and come straight back. meanwhile take my advice and have a sleep, like your man there. you look dead beat, and no wonder. why, i suppose you've had no breakfast?" "i've had something, but not bacon and eggs, certainly. i shall do very well. i will take your advice; sleep is better than food just now. when you see benzonana, ask if he has any addresses for me: barracombe was going to wire some from london. many thanks, old man." johnson said a word or two to the captain, who nodded gravely as smith flung himself down beside the aeroplane, and, resting his head on his arms, prepared to go to sleep. the golfer knew the short cuts from the ok meidan to the city. he went at a fine swinging pace through the hamlet of koulaksiz, down cassim pasha, up the steep hill through the cemetery, past the pera palace hotel. at that point he jumped into a carriage, and commanded the driver to make all speed to the british embassy. there he was lucky to find a friend of his on the staff of the embassy, a man well versed in the customs and character of the turks. "the only thing to do," said the official, when johnson had briefly explained the circumstances, "is to get an order from the minister of war; but we shall have to hurry, as he may be attending a council, or a commission, or something of the sort. what is your friend's hurry?" "i don't know. he says it's a matter of life or death." "i should say death if he goes at such a preposterous speed. it must have been nearly two hundred miles an hour: the brennan mono-rail is nothing to it. at any rate, it's rather a feather in our cap--this record, i mean, after so many have been made by the french and the americans--and if he has more recording to do we mustn't let oriental sluggishness stand in the way." this conversation passed while they were making their way from an upper room of the embassy to the street. there they jumped into an araba with a kavass on the box, dashed down pera street, past the banking quarter, over the galata bridge, up the sublime porte road and into the bayazid square, where they reached their destination. a crowd of servants was grouped about the grand entrance, and as johnson and his friend callard came up, the turks flocked around them officiously, assuring them with one voice that the minister was attending a commission. callard took no notice of them, but passed on with johnson into the central hall, where, sitting over a charcoal brazier, they found a group of attendants rolling cigarettes and discussing the merits of the city's new water supply. among them callard spotted an acquaintance, who rose and said politely, "welcome, dragoman bey, seat yourself." callard knew very well the necessity, in turkish administrations, of having a friend at court, and was aware, too, that where a high official failed, a servant might succeed. but he was too well acquainted with the customs of the country to attempt to hasten matters unduly. he began to discuss the weather; he compared the climate of his interlocutor's province with that of the city; he spoke of the approaching bairam festivities. then, apparently apropos of nothing, the man said, "i have been at the sheep-market to-day," a remark which callard took as a broad hint for bakshish: the turk wanted money to buy a fat sheep for the impending sacrifice. he produced two medjidiés. the effect was magical. the two englishmen were guided to the small chamber where the minister's coat hung, where his coffee was prepared and his official attendants sat. from this room access could be had to him without the knowledge of the hundreds of people outside waiting for an audience: wives of exiled officers, officials without employment, mothers come to plead for erring sons who had been dismissed. introduced to the minister's presence, callard wasted no time. the case was put to him; johnson, whom he knew by sight, vouched for the respectability and good faith of his old comrade; and the minister, apologizing for his subordinate's excess of zeal, scribbled an order permitting lieutenant smith to pursue his business free of all restrictions by the military authorities. "but," he said, "i have no power to give him exemption from custom house control." the englishmen thanked him profusely, and with many salaams retired. "we have succeeded better than i hoped," said callard, as they passed out; "but we are still only half way, confound it! we shall have to hurry up if smith is to get off in time. arabadji," he cried to the coachman awaiting them at the door, "the direction-general of the custom house." the driver whipped up his horse; they dashed down the sublime porte hill, and drew up at the entrance to the custom house. "is the director-general here?" callard asked of the doorkeeper. "he is a little unwell, but the english adviser is here." "we will see him," returned callard; adding to johnson, "we are in luck's way; the english adviser does his best to lessen the inconveniences of the circumlocution office." they went up-stairs, and were met by an attendant who showed them into an unpretentious room, where an englishman, wearing a fez, was seated at a table covered with papers and surrounded by a crowd of merchants and officials. questions of infinite variety were being submitted to him. "excellence, are we to accept as samples two dozen left-hand gloves? this merchant brought two dozen right-hand gloves last week." then the merchant and the official began to wrangle. for some minutes callard in vain tried to get a word in edgeways; then at last the councillor, pushing back his fez with an air of weary patience, turned to the newcomers and asked their business. a few words sufficed; the councillor rang a bell on the table, and when his secretary appeared, ordered him to make out a _laissez-passer_ for lieutenant smith for all the custom houses of the empire. this done, he turned once more to listen to the interminable dispute about the left-hand gloves. "we are doing well," said callard, as the two left the custom house. "there's still nearly an hour to spare. now for the petrol." they drove across the galata bridge to the district of kourshounlou han, and found that benzonana had had the petrol ready at early morning, and, what was more, had it at that moment in a conveyance for transport. johnson asked him if he had received any addresses from london, and the man handed him a folded paper. then, asking him to send the petrol and some machine oil at once to the ok meidan, the two englishmen reentered their carriage, dashed up the maltese street, past the bank and the economic stores, up the municipality hill, and again down by a short cut to the admiralty. it was an hour and a half since johnson had set forth on his errand. they found smith and rodier talking to the second golfer, boiling coffee in a little portable stove, and eating a kind of shortbread they had purchased of one of the simitdjis or itinerant vendors of that article who had been doing a roaring trade with the children, and even the elders, among the sightseers. "don't taste bad, spread with bovril," said smith, as johnson and callard alighted from their carriage. the crowd had grown to immense proportions. smith said they had been clamouring ever since johnson had been gone, and he would rather like to know what they said. "probably discussing whether the commander of the faithful won't order you to be flung into the bosphorus," said callard. the soldiers were still on guard round the aeroplane. johnson approached the captain and showed him the minister of war's order. almost at the same moment an aide-de-camp came galloping up from the minister himself to assure the officer that all was right. "but don't go yet, captain," said johnson anxiously. "my friend will require a clear space for starting his aeroplane, and without your men we shall never get the crowd back." the officer agreed to wait until the englishman departed, and johnson returned to smith to give him the paper he had received from benzonana. callard had already related their experiences at the ministry of war and the custom house. "but what about the petrol?" asked smith. "time's getting on." "he said he had it all ready to send. ah! i guess this is it coming." a way was parted through the crowd, and there came up with great rattling and creaking a heavy motor omnibus of the type that first appeared on the streets of london. it was crowded within and without with turks young and old. "where did you get that old rattler?" asked smith, laughing. "oh, several came out here a year or two ago; bought up cheap when the commissioner of police couldn't stand 'em any longer. they're always breaking down. no doubt your petrol is inside, and you may think yourself lucky it has got here." the car came to a stand: the turks on the roof retained their places; those within lugged out the cans of petrol and oil, and placed them in the aeroplane at rodier's direction. smith meanwhile was chatting with the englishmen, fending off their questions as to his destination. "i may send you a wire from my next stopping-place," he said. "that reminds me. will you send a wire to barracombe for me, johnson? you know his address. and one to my sister at home. i promised i would let her know. simply say 'all well.' now can you get the captain to clear the course for me?" the captain and his men took a long time over this business, and smith longed for a few london policemen to show them how to do it. but the excited crowd was at length forced back so far as to allow a sufficient running-off space. smith shook hands warmly with the englishmen; with rodier he took his place in the car; then at a jerk of the lever the aeroplane shot forward, and, amid cries of "good luck!" from the englishmen, clapping of hands and loud "mashallahs!" from the excited mob, it rose gracefully into the air. "only five minutes late, mister," said rodier. "all goes well." chapter v the tomb of ur-gur charles thesiger smith was not one of the romantic, imaginative order of men. even if he had been, the speed at which he travelled over the bosphorus gave scant opportunity for observation of the scenes passing below. he had no eye for the tramps, laden with grain from odessa, coming down from the black sea; for the vessels of ancient shape and build, such as the argonauts might have sailed in when questing for the golden fleece; for the graceful caiques rowed by boatmen in zouaves of crimson and gold, in the sterns of which the flower of circassian beauty in gossamer veils reclined on divans and carpets from the most famous looms of persia and bokhara. these visions touched him not: he was crossing into asia minor, a country of which he knew nothing, and his attention was divided between the country ahead and the map with which barracombe had nefariously provided him. the next stage of his journey, the first place where a fresh supply of petrol awaited him, was karachi, in the north-west corner of india. it was distant about , miles. a gallon of petrol would carry him for forty-five miles, and his tank had a capacity of eighty gallons, so that with good luck he would not need to replenish it until he reached karachi. though he hoped that his own endurance and the engine's would stand the strain of the whole distance without stopping, he had chosen his course so that, if he felt the necessity of alighting for brief intervals, he might at least find pleasant country and amicable people. his aim was to cross the turkish provinces in asia and strike the persian gulf, a slightly longer route than if he had gone through central persia, but having the great advantage of affording a possible half-way house at bagdad, basra, or bushire, in each of which towns he would almost certainly find europeans. it had the further advantage that, when he had once sighted the gulf, he would have no anxiety about the accuracy of his course, since by keeping generally to the coastline of persia and baluchistan he could not fail to arrive at karachi. it was a great thing to be independent of nautical observations, for as he approached the shores of india it might be difficult to take his bearings by his instruments, this being the season of the monsoon. when he left constantinople his anemometer indicated a velocity of eighteen miles in the south-west wind, which, as he was steering south-east, was partly in his favour. one of the disabilities which he, in common with all airmen, suffered, was the impossibility of ascertaining the velocity of the wind when he was fairly afloat. he had to make allowance for it by sheer guesswork, unless he was prepared to slow down or even to alight. he had reckoned that, even with the slight assistance of the wind, he could hardly hope to reach the head of the persian gulf before six o'clock, which would be past nine by the sun; but he thought he might reasonably expect to reach the euphrates before sunset; and since the map assured him that that river ran a fairly direct course to the gulf, he might follow it without much difficulty if the night proved clear, and so assure himself that he was not going astray. the country over which he was now flying was hilly, and he kept at a fairly high altitude. the map showed him that the great taurus range lay between him and the eastern extremity of the mediterranean. within an hour and a half after leaving constantinople he came in sight of its huge bleak masses stretching away to right and left, but still a hundred miles or more distant, although, on the right, spurs of the cilician part of the range jutted out much nearer to him. on the right, too, he descried from his great height a broad and glittering expanse of water, which the map named lake beishehr. making for the gap in the mountains near the cilician coast he found himself passing over a comparatively low country, and soon afterwards descried the blue waters of the mediterranean and the island of cyprus rising out of it a hundred miles away. setting now a more easterly course, he passed over an ironbound coast, its perpendicular cliffs fringed with dwarf pines; and then over a large town which could be none other than antioch. half-an-hour more brought him within sight of another city, doubtless aleppo. he still steered almost due east, though a point or two southward would be more direct, because he wished to avoid the syrian desert; a breakdown in such a barren tract of country would mean a fatal delay. soon afterwards he reached a broad full river, flowing rapidly between verdant banks. "the euphrates," he shouted to rodier. "ah! i wish we had time for a swim," replied the man. for some time smith followed the general course of the river, avoiding the windings. severely practical as he was, he could not pass through this seat of ancient civilizations without letting his mind run back over centuries of time, recalling the names of sennacherib, cyrus and alexander; and how cyrus had not shrunk from drying up the bed of this very river in his operations against babylon. on the ground over which he now flew mighty armies had fought, kingdoms had been lost and won, four or five thousand years ago. the passage of so modern a thing as an aeroplane seemed almost a desecration of the spirit of antiquity, an insult to the _genius loci_. hitherto the weather and the conditions for flying had been perfect. the wind had dropped, the sun shone brilliantly, but its heat was tempered to the airmen by the very rapidity of their flight. at length, however, about two hours before sunset, smith noticed a strange wobbling of the compass needle. it swung this way and that with rapid gyrations, its movements becoming more violent every moment. suddenly the aeroplane reeled; the sky seemed to become black in one instant; there was a vivid flash of lightning, followed by a tremendous thunder-clap and a flood of rain. smith was desperately perturbed. he had run straight into an electric storm. it was hopeless to attempt to make headway against it; the strain upon the planes would certainly prove more than they could stand. he had already slackened speed and planed downwards, so as to be able to alight if he must, with the result that the machine became more subject to vertical eddies of the wind, that continually altered its elevation, now hurling it aloft, now plunging it as it were into an abyss. once or twice he tried to rise above the storm, but abandoned the attempt when he saw how great an additional strain it placed upon the planes. it seemed safer to keep the engine going steadily and make no attempt to steer. he was no longer over the river, and the ground below was comparatively flat, presenting many a clear spot suitable for alighting; but with the wind blowing a hurricane a descent might well prove disastrous. the worst accidents he had suffered in the early days of his air-sailing had always happened near the ground, when there was no way on the machine to counteract the force of the wind. all that he could do was to cling on and do his best by quick manipulation of the levers to keep the machine steady. after fifteen very uncomfortable and, indeed, alarming minutes, the violence of the wind abated, and the rain became intermittent, instead of pouring down in a constant flood. the compass was oscillating less jumpily, and it was now possible to see some distance ahead. owing to the extraordinary behaviour of the compass, the baffling gusts of wind, and the necessity of keeping his whole attention fixed on the machinery, he had lost all idea of direction and even of time, and he began to be anxious lest darkness should overtake him before he had regained his course. but guessing that the area of the storm was of small extent, he hoped to run out of it, and increased his speed, expecting in a few minutes to discover the euphrates again, when all would be well. unhappily, though the wind had dropped, the sky became blacker than ever, and another deluge of rain fell, so densely that at a distance of a few yards it seemed to be an opaque wall. coming to the conclusion that he had better take shelter until he could at least see his way, he planed downwards, calling to rodier to keep a sharp look-out for a landing place. suddenly, in the midst of the downpour, a huge dark shape loomed up ahead, appearing to rise almost perpendicularly above the plain. for a few seconds it seemed to smith that he was dashing into a solid wall of rock. luckily he had checked the speed of the engine. he now stopped it altogether, but the aeroplane glided on by its impetus, and he felt, with a sinking of the heart, that nothing could save it. all at once the mass in front seemed to open. instinctively smith touched his steering lever; the aeroplane glided into the fissure; in two or three seconds there was a bump and a jolt; it had come to a stop, and was resting on an apparently solid bottom. monsieur alphonse marie de montausé, a distinguished member of the academy of inscriptions, a pillar of the société d'histoire diplomatique, and a foreign member of the royal society, had been for nearly a year engaged at nimrud in the work nearest to his heart, the work of excavation. it was a labour of love for which he was very jealous. he believed it was his mission to reveal to an astonished world the long-buried secrets of ancient civilizations; he could not bear a rival near the throne of archæological eminence; and in this exclusive attitude of mind he had undertaken this expedition without the companionship of a fellow-countryman, or even of any white man, devoting himself to his patient and laborious toil, assisted only by an egyptian cook, a number of arab labourers, and such natives of babylonia as he had attracted to his service by the promise, faithfully kept, of good and regular pay. his excavations had been, on the whole, disappointing. he had unearthed specimens of pottery and metal-work, tradesmen's tablets of accounts, seals, bas-reliefs, differing little from those which could be found in many a european museum; but he had not for many months lighted upon any unique object, such as would open a new page in the history of archæological research, and make europe ring with his name. his money was nearly all expended; his permit from the ottoman government was on the point of expiring; he was sadly contemplating the necessity of leaving this barren field and returning to france; he had, indeed, already despatched a portion of his caravan to begin its long journey to the coast, remaining with a few men to finish the excavation of the _tell_--the mound covering the remains of a babylonish city--on which he was engaged, in the hope of discovering something of value, even at the eleventh hour. he had almost completed it, and he could easily hurry after the slow-moving caravan, and overtake it in a day or two. one friday, to his great joy, he came across, in the wall of the _tell_, a large inscribed mass of brickwork, weighing, perhaps, half-a-ton, which, from the cursory inspection he was able to make of it in the semi-darkness, he believed might prove sufficiently valuable to compensate all the disappointments of the weary months. in his enthusiasm he had no more thought of his caravan, and though a terrific thunderstorm burst over the place just as his men were getting into position the rude derrick by means of which they would lower the masonry into the trench cut in the side of the _tell,_ his ardour would suffer no intermission in the work. it is true that in the trench they were in some measure protected from the storm. the lashings had been fixed on the brickwork under his careful superintendence; the men were on the point of hauling on the ropes, when a thing of monstrous size and uncouth shape glided silently into the opening of the trench, and came to rest there. instantly the men gave a howl of terror, released the ropes, and took to their heels. monsieur alphonse marie de montausé was left alone. remembering that he was an explorer, an enthusiast, and a frenchman, the reader will hardly need to be told that monsieur de montausé was beside himself with fury. the dropping of the ropes had caused the masonry to fall against one of the feet of the derrick, and it came down with a crash. but this was not the worst. in the semi-darkness, the nature of the intruder could not have been clear to monsieur de montausé; but he heard a voice calling in some unknown tongue; some human being had dared to interlope upon his peculiar domain; and the wrathful explorer did only what might have been expected of him: he began to pour forth a torrent of very violent reproof and objurgation, to which the sober english tongue can do scant justice. "ah! scélérats!" he cried. "what do you mean? de quoi mêlez-vous? you are rogues: you are trespassers. know you not that i--oui, moi qui vous parle--have alone the right of entry into this _tell_? has not the administration of the french republic arranged it? allez-vous-en, allez-vous-en, coquins, scélérats!" "mais, monsieur--" began rodier, stepping out of the car. the sound of his own language only added fuel to monsieur de montausé's wrath. had some rival appeared on the scene at the very moment when he saw the crown of his long toil? had some overeager competitor obtained a permit, come before his time, and arrived to enter upon the fruits of his predecessor's labours and rob him of half his glory? "mais, monsieur," said rodier, but the explorer fairly shrieked him to silence, approached him, smote one fist with the other, and hurled abuse at him with such incoherent volubility that smith, whose french was pretty good, could not make out a word of it, and held on to the levers in helpless laughter. "mais, monsieur, je vous assure--" began rodier again, when he thought he saw a chance; but the explorer shouted "retirez-vous! j'insiste que vous vous en lliez, tout de suite, tout de suite!" and then he began over again, abuse, recrimination, expostulation, entreaty, pouring in full tide from his trembling lips. more than once rodier tried to stem the flood, but finding that it only ran the faster, he resigned himself to listen in silence, and stood looking mournfully at his ireful fellow-countryman until he at length was forced to stop from sheer lack of breath. "mais, monsieur," rodier's voice was very conciliatory--"i assure you that our visit is purely accidental. my friend and myself desire only too much to quit the scene. but you perceive, monsieur, that our aeroplane--" "ah, bah! aeroplane! what have i to do with aeroplanes? you interrupt my work, i say: the aeroplane is a thing of the present; i have to do only with the past; there were no aeroplanes in babylonia. once more i demand that you withdraw, you and your aeroplane, and leave me to pursue my work in tranquillity." "mais, monsieur, il s'agit précisément de ça! withdraw: yes, certainly, at the quickest possible: but how? you perceive that our aeroplane is so placed that one cannot extricate it without assistance. if monsieur will be so good as to lend us his distinguished help, so that we may remove it from this hole--" "hole! mille diables! it is a trench; a trench excavated with many pains in this _tell_. as for assistance, i give you none, none absolutely. you brought your aeroplane here without assistance: then remove it equally without assistance; immediately: already you waste too much time." "mais, monsieur, our mission is of life or death." "n'importe, n'importe. i tell you i am quite unmoved. no interest is superior to that of science--the science of archæology. i tell you i have just made a discovery of the highest importance. i have but a short time left; you, you and your ridiculous machine, have scared away my imbeciles of workmen; they will not return until you have gone away; the leg of my derrick is smashed; i demand, i beseech, i implore--" "pardon, monsieur," said smith, coming forward, and courteously saluting the stout, spectacled little frenchman, whom he could just see in the growing darkness. "we regret extremely having put you to this trouble and inconvenience, and i assure you that but for the storm we should never have dreamed of entering here, and interrupting the great work on which you are engaged." smith's quiet voice and slow, measured utterance made an instant impression. a man can hardly rave against a person who remains calm. moreover, the frenchman was mollified by the speaker's evident appreciation of the value of his work. "eh bien, monsieur?" he said courteously. "i am a seaman, monsieur," proceeded smith; "my friend here is an engineer, and between us i have no doubt that we can repair the leg of your derrick and assist you to place the masonry where you will. all that i would ask is that you in return will help us to remove our aeroplane from your trench into the open plain." "certainly, certainly; with much pleasure," said the frenchman eagerly; "i will light my lantern, so that we may see what we are about." smith and rodier stripped off their drenched coats, and by the light of monsieur de montausé's lantern soon spliced up the broken leg of the derrick, set the contrivance in a stable position, and lowered the mass of brickwork to the spot the explorer pointed out. it was no sooner safely settled than monsieur de montausé, oblivious of everything else, bent over it, and, holding one of the lanterns close to the inscription, began to pore over the fascinating hieroglyphics. smith could not help smiling at the little man's enthusiasm: but it was necessary to remind him of his share of the compact. "ah, oui, oui," he said impatiently; "in a few moments. this is a magnificent discovery, monsieur; your aeroplane is completely uninteresting to me. this is nothing less than a portion of the tomb of ur-gur; see, the inscription: 'the tomb of ur-gur, the powerful champion, king of ur, king of shumer and akkad, builder of the wall of nippur to bel, the king of the lands.' this was written nearly five thousand years ago; what is the aeroplane, a thing of yesterday, in comparison with this glorious relic of antiquity?" "precisely, monsieur; beside it the aeroplane sinks into insignificance; yet, as a man of honour--" "ah, oui!" cried the frenchman, starting up. "let us be quick, then; you take one end, i the other. you push, i pull; voilà!" "it is perhaps not so simple, monsieur," said smith; "we must first see that there is no obstruction, and then if you could persuade some of your men to come back, we should be able to remove the aeroplane more quickly. i fear we could hardly do it alone." monsieur de montausé was so anxious to get rid of his visitors that he assented eagerly to this course. four or five of the men, drawn back by the light of the lantern, were hovering at the end of the trench; the explorer hailed them, and assuring them that they would suffer no harm, persuaded, them to lend a hand. rodier, meanwhile, had walked through the trench to see that the course was clear, and shoved aside with little ceremony some of the objects monsieur de montausé had unearthed. with the aid of the frenchman himself and his men the aeroplane was carefully dragged out into the open. "it is done. adieu, messieurs," said monsieur de montausé. then, turning to his men: "as for you, imbeciles, i have no more need of you at present. go and eat your supper. i shall eat nothing until i have deciphered the whole of the inscription." "one moment, monsieur," said smith; "we were driven out of our course by the storm, and i am not certain of our whereabouts. can you tell me the latitude and longitude of this place?" "ah, no. i am not a geographer. the surface of the globe: bah! it is the rind of the orange, it is the shell of the nut; i seek the juice, the kernel. but i can tell you this: we are not far from the left bank of the tigris, near its confluence with the zab, and about a hundred kilometres from the ruins of nineveh. adieu, monsieur." the two airmen resumed their coats, switched on their searchlight, and made a rapid examination of the engine, which appeared to have suffered no injury: then took their places. when the sparking began, and noisome smoke poured from the exhaust, the workmen again yelled, but as the machine, after a short run, sailed noisily into the air, they fell prostrate in utter consternation. chapter vi with gun runners in the gulf a glance at the sodden map showed smith that he had been driven at least fifty miles out of his course. he could not afford time to return to the euphrates: he would now have to follow the course of the tigris until it joined the larger river. it would be folly to attempt a direct flight to karachi, for in so doing he would have to pass over the mountainous districts of southern persia and baluchistan, where, if any mishap befel the aeroplane, there would be absolutely no chance of finding assistance. luckily the moon was rising, and by its light he was soon able to strike the tigris near the spot where it flowed between the hills gebel hamrin and gebel mekhul into the babylonian plain. from this point, keeping the hills well on his left, he steered south-east until about midnight he came upon an immense expanse of water, shimmering below him in the moonlight, which he concluded to be nothing else but the persian gulf. by this time he was both tired and hungry. rodier and he had eaten a few biscuits spread with bovril, and drunk soda-water, while they were examining the engine, but they both felt ravenous for a good square meal. smith, however, had set his heart on completing his flight to karachi, where his scheme would allow an hour or two for rest and food, and he was the more determined to carry out his programme, if possible, because of the delay caused by the storm. his plan was to keep close to the left shore of the persian gulf, not following its indentations, but never losing sight of the sea. the coast, he saw by the map, made a gentle curve for some six hundred miles, then swept southward opposite the projecting oman peninsula, and thence ran almost due east to karachi. the coast was for the most part hilly, and as he was now travelling at full speed there was always a risk, unless he flew high, of his being brought up by a spur or a rock jutting out into the gulf; and as he did not wish to maintain too great an altitude, he altered his course a point or two to the south, flying over the sea, but not far from the shore. rodier and he took turns at the engine, each dozing from sheer weariness during his spell off. they flew on all through the night, and when dawn began to break, saw straight ahead land stretching far to right and left. there was no doubt that this was the oman peninsula, which, jutting out from the arabian mainland, almost closes the gulf. steering now a slightly more northward course, and rising to clear the hills of the peninsula, smith passed over the neck of land, and found himself in the gulf of oman, half-way between the head of the persian gulf and karachi. now that it was light, there was no longer the same necessity for keeping out to sea. indeed, it was merely prudent to come over the land, so that if anything happened to the engine he would at least have an opportunity of descending safely. the engine had worked so well that he scarcely feared a breakdown, but he was not the man to take unnecessary risks. glancing at his watch, he calculated that he was about two hours behind time. as he had been flying at full speed except during the storm, he could hardly hope to make up the lost time except by diminishing the intervals for rest which he had allowed for before starting. it was, at any rate, important to lose no more. he had just come to this conclusion when there was a sudden snap in the framework of one of the planes. looking round anxiously, he at once reduced the speed, feeling very thankful that the mischief had not developed during the storm, when the aeroplane must have inevitably crumpled up. now, however, the weather was fair, and he could choose his landing-place. he had no doubt that the accident was due to the enormous strain which had been put upon the structure by the storm. a glance showed him that the plane was still rigid enough to stand the strain of motion at a lower speed, but that would neither satisfy him nor achieve success, and so he decided to alight and try to remedy the defect. as he began to plane downwards, rodier pointed to a cluster of huts at the mouth of a small river. a dhow lay moored to a rough wooden jetty beyond the hamlet. between it and the huts was an open space of considerable extent, and though when rodier first drew his attention to the place they must have been more than a mile distant from it, he could see, even without his binocular, a crowd of people moving about the open space. "we may find a forge there," shouted rodier. smith nodded, but he felt a little uneasy. it seemed likely that he had now reached what is known as the mekran coast, and he remembered the ill reputation it bore with the officers of british ships who had seen service in these waters. the people had been described as greedy, conceited, unwilling, and unreasonable as camels, and their treacherous and cruel disposition was such that, thirty or forty years before, europeans who landed on any part of their seaboard would have done so at great peril. smith, however, had a vague recollection of their having been taught a salutary lesson by the karwan expedition, and no doubt the presence of british war vessels in the gulf had done something to correct their turbulence. he had to choose between finding a landing-place inland, out of sight of the inhabitants of this fishing village, and landing among them on the chance of getting the use of a forge, for it would probably be necessary to weld the broken stay. deciding for the latter course, he steered straight for the village, and, circling round it, dropped gently to earth in the open space near the jetty. the aeroplane had been seen and heard some time before it reached the spot, and its flight was watched with open-mouthed curiosity by the men, who paused in their work of carrying ashore bulky packages from the dhow. when they saw the strange visitant from the sky descending upon them, they gave utterance to shrill cries of alarm, dropped their burdens, and fled in hot haste up the shore, disappearing behind the huts. as he alighted, smith noticed, close to the aeroplane, one of these packages, which had burst open in the fall, and saw with surprise that it contained rifles. "i say, roddy," he said; "this is rather unlucky. we have interrupted a gun-running." "ah, no, it is lucky, mister," returned the frenchman. "we shall not need now to buy rifles _en route_; we can help ourselves; these are contraband, without doubt." "that's true, i suspect; rifles are sure to be contraband here; but this is a wild district, and the people won't be too well-disposed towards us, coming and stopping their little game. we've a right to impound the rifles, i daresay, but i really think we had better look the other way." "wink the other eye, as you say. well, at present there is no one to look at. the people do not speak french, i suppose?" "nor english, probably. they are baluchis, i suppose, and perhaps haven't seen a white man before. just look and see what's wrong with the stay while i go up to the village and parley." rodier stripped to his shirt, got his tools out of the little box in which they were kept, and set to work in as unconcerned and business-like a way as if he had been in the workshop at home. meanwhile smith, puffing at a cigarette, walked slowly towards the nearest hut. his easy manner gave no sign of alertness; but in reality he was keeping a keen look-out, and had already descried some of the natives peeping round the walls of the huts. having taken a few steps he halted, looked inquiringly around, and hailed the lurking villagers with a stentorian "ahoy!" at first there was no response, but on his advancing a little farther and repeating the call two or three swarthy and dirty-looking men came slowly from behind the nearest hut. smith noticed the long spears they carried. he smiled and held out his hand, but the men stopped short and eyed him doubtfully, jabbering among themselves. he bade them good morning, inviting them to come and have a talk, but saw at once by the lack of expression on their faces that they did not understand him. somewhat perplexed, and trying to think of signs by which he could explain what he wanted, he saw a different figure emerge from the background, a small, bent, olive-skinned old man, clad in a white turban and dhoti. he came forward hesitatingly. "salaam, sahib," he said humbly. "oh, i say, can you speak english?" asked smith eagerly, suspecting that the man was a hindu. "speak english very fine, sahib," replied the man, with a smile. "thank goodness! well, now, is there a smith in the village? you know what i mean: a blacksmith, a man who makes iron things?" it was not a very clear definition, but the hindu understood him. "yees, sahib," he said; "smif that way." he pointed to a hut at a little distance. "that's all right. fetch the smith along, and i'll get you to tell him what i want." "i know, sahib, i tell them. i do big trade in this place. they silly jossers, sahib; think you a djinn." "well, put that right, and hurry up, will you?" the hindu salaamed and returned to the group of villagers. an excited colloquy ensued, the man pointing now to the englishman, now to the aeroplane, and now to the dhow alongside the jetty. presently the hindu came back. "silly chaps say what for you come here, sahib. you know too much, they say." smith guessed that they supposed his visit had something to do with the smuggling operations in which they were engaged. he explained quickly that he was merely an ordinary traveller, on his way to india in one of the new air carriages in which englishmen were accustomed to make long journeys, and he promised to pay the smith well for any assistance he could give in repairing a slight injury which the carriage had suffered in a storm. the hindu carried this message to the villagers, who were now increasing in number as they regained confidence, and after another discussion he returned, accompanied by a big man, the dirtiest in the crowd, the others following slowly. he found it no easy matter, through his smiling but incompetent interpreter, to explain that he wanted the use of the smith's appliances. to quicken their apprehension he produced a couple of half-crowns, pointing out that they were worth four rupees, and offered these as payment when the work was done. the hindu recognized the king's head on the coins, and eagerly assured the baluchis that they were good english money; but the smith, true to the oriental habit of haggling, rejected them scornfully as insufficient, and was backed up by a chorus of indignant cries from the crowd. smith, impatient at the loss of time, and forgetting that any show of eagerness would merely encourage the natives to delay, was incautious enough to show them a half-sovereign. though the hindu appeared to do his best to persuade them that this was generous pay, they showed even greater contempt, and became more and more clamorous. "greedy chaps want more, sahib," said the hindu deprecatingly. "very well," replied smith, pocketing the coin. "we'll do without them." he turned his back on them, and returned at a saunter to the aeroplane, the crowd, now swelled by the arrival of apparently all the inhabitants of the village, old and young, pressing on behind. it was evident that they had now lost their fear of the strange machine. "how are you getting on, roddy?" he asked. "these asses won't take half-a-sovereign to lend a hand." "imbeciles! but the stay must be welded." "well, we'll pretend we can do without 'em. i daresay that will bring them round." for a few minutes the two men made a great show of activity, completely disregarding the crowd curiously watching them. the plan had the desired effect. the hindu came forward and said that the smith would accept the gold piece, if he were paid in advance. "not a bit of it. if he likes to help he shall have it when the work is done," replied smith, turning to resume his interrupted work. the smith, now fearful of losing his customer, began to abuse the hindu for not completing the bargain. at length, with a show of reluctance, smith relented, and with the aid of the villagers the aeroplane was wheeled to the smithy. it proved to be very poorly equipped, having a very primitive forge and a pair of clumsy native bellows; but rodier set to work to make the best of it, welding the broken stay with the smith's help, while his employer remained outside the hut to keep watch over the aeroplane, which the people were beginning to examine rather more minutely than he liked. to drive them off, smith set the engine working, causing a volume of smoke to belch forth in the faces of the nearest men, who ran back, holding their noses and crying out in alarm. smith filled in the minutes by opening a tin of sardines and eating some of the fish sandwiched between biscuits. the sight of small fish brought from a box struck the villagers with amazement, which was redoubled when he removed the stopper from a soda-water bottle and drank what appeared to be boiling liquid. presently, however, he noticed that some of the men were quietly withdrawing towards the huts, behind which they disappeared. among them was the hindu, who was apparently summoned, and departed with a look of uneasiness. smith went on with his meal unconcernedly, though he was becoming suspicious, especially when he found by-and-by that all the men had left him, the crowd consisting now only of women and children. "nearly done, roddy?" he called into the hut. "yes, mister. the smith has took his hook, though." "all the men have gone behind the huts. i wonder what they are up to." rodier took up a hammer, and gently broke a hole in the flimsy back wall of the hut. "there's a big crowd beyond the village," he reported. "having a pow-wow, too. they've got spears and muskets." "that looks bad. hurry up with the stay. the sooner we get out of this the better." he noticed that the smith had now rejoined the crowd. no doubt he intended to make sure of getting his money. the mob behind the huts was growing noisy, and smith gave a sigh of relief when rodier came out with the mended stay and proceeded to fix it in place. while he did this, smith beckoned some of the lads forward, and made them understand by signs that he wished them to help him wheel the aeroplane round. the slope between it and the sea was very rough ground, but it afforded space for starting off, and the moment rodier had finished his job he swung the aeroplane round and started the engine. the smith, looking on suspiciously, took this as a signal for departure and rushed forward, clamouring shrilly for the promised payment. smith gave him the half-sovereign, then jumped into his place, rodier running beside the machine as it moved down the slope. at this moment there was a shout from the village, which swelled into a furious din as the men came rushing from behind the huts, and saw the white men preparing to leave them. the aeroplane gathered way. rodier was on the point of clambering into his place, as he had often done before, by means of the carriage supporting the wheels. but the machine jolting over the rough ground delayed him. the yelling crowd rushed down, some hurling spears, and others endeavouring to seize the frenchman. he kept his grip on the rail, but another jolt forced him to loosen his hold, the machine suddenly sprang upwards, and rodier fell backward among his captors. smith scarcely realized what had happened until he was many feet in the air; but seeing at a glance over his shoulder that rodier was left behind, he put the helm over and warped the planes to a perilous degree. the aeroplane was fifty or sixty yards from the starting place when smith's action caused it to swerve like a wounded bird; then it recovered itself, and turning in a narrow circle swept back towards the confused knot of men on the beach. smith planed down straight upon them, intending to land and rush to rodier's assistance. but perceiving that the frenchman was struggling on the ground, with a dozen turbaned figures clustering over him, he steered straight for the middle of the group. there was a dull thud, and then another, and he felt a harsh jolt as the chassis struck some of the standing men. smith had stopped the engine when he turned, and the aeroplane, brought up by this obstruction, sank to the ground, being saved from damage only by the spring attachments of the carriage. drawing his revolver, smith leapt from his seat and dashed towards the group. six or eight men lay on the ground, some of them too badly hurt to rise; the rest of the crowd had taken to their heels, and the whole population was in full flight, the children screaming with terror. in an instant, to smith's relief, rodier sprang to his feet. together they turned the machine once more towards the sea. "are you hurt, roddy?" asked smith. "ah, the villains! they have given me a dig or two. let us get away from this, mister. we are getting later and later." he jumped into the car; smith again started the engine; and as the machine rose into the air it was followed by a howl of rage from the baffled baluchis. half-a-dozen slugs pattered about it, piercing several holes in the planes. already one of these had been gashed by a spear, which still stuck in it. but no serious damage had been done, and in a few seconds the aeroplane was flying at full speed over the sea. it is one of the drawbacks of aerial travel that conversation can only be carried on in shouts. smith would have liked to talk over things with rodier, but the noise of the engine and the boom of the air as the machine cut through it smothered his voice unless he bellowed. only a few words passed between them as they flew along a little distance out to sea. rodier bathed two slight wounds he had received in the scuffle with water from the pots filled during the storm, and assured smith that they were nothing to trouble about. some few minutes after leaving the inhospitable village they noticed the smoke of a steamer, a good deal nearer the shore than the dhows which they had seen occasionally on the gulf. it was too far distant for them to determine its size and nationality, or to guess the direction in which it was bound. smith decided to speak it in passing, but, observing that the stay had not been thoroughly fixed in the hurry of their departure, he looked about for a suitable landing-place, where the finishing touches might be given. the coast was rocky and precipitous, and the tops of the cliffs were strewn for a considerable distance inland with innumerable boulders, large and small, which would render landing dangerous, and starting perhaps more dangerous still. at length, however, just as he was thinking of running inland, in spite of the loss of time, rodier caught sight of a large expanse of smooth rock, left bare by the falling tide. he pointed it out to smith, who made a hasty calculation of its extent, and judged that it would serve his purpose. steering to it, he circled round it and dropped gently upon its western end, scaring off a flamingo that was sunning itself there in solitary state. "we came well out of that, roddy," he said, as they set to work on the stay. "but we lose time by all these stops, mister," replied rodier. "we can perhaps make it up if you keep your gold in your pocket." "i made a mistake there, certainly. if anything of the kind occurs again our motto must be 'take it or leave it.'" "just as you say to a cabby." "you are sure you are not hurt much?" "no more than with a cat's scratches. you came in the stitch of time, though." "'a stitch in time saves nine,'" quoted smith, smiling a little at the frenchman's mistake. "that's why we had better make a good job of this. we don't want to stop again." ten minutes' work sufficed to fix the stay firmly in its place. smith again started the engine, the aeroplane taking the air when it was only half-way across the rock. they looked around for the steamer when they were again going at full speed, but it was no longer visible. in a few minutes, however, the smoke again came into view, and as they rapidly approached it smith was delighted to see that it came from the funnel of a small gunboat, which was steaming in the same direction as their own flight, making probably for bombay or karachi. the chances were that such a vessel in these waters was british, so smith steered towards it, shouting to rodier that they might perhaps arrange a tit-for-tat with the baluchis. there was much excitement on board the gunboat when the aeroplane planed down and soared over it at its own pace, just high enough to be out of reach of sparks from the funnel. "who are you?" shouted smith through a megaphone. "gunboat _penguin_, captain durward, bound for bombay. who are you?" came the answer. "lieutenant thesiger smith, of the _imperturbable,_ bound for karachi." "the deuce you are! what do you call that vessel of yours?" "my pet lamb," replied smith, grinning. "i say, sir, i've no time for explanations. are you policing these seas?" "this is my beat. why?" "some baluchis are gun-running fifty miles up the coast, that's all. thought you'd like to know." "are they, begad! thanks for the tip. can you describe the spot?" "a tiny village lying behind a point. a river runs through it, and there's a short jetty. sorry i can't give you latitude and longitude. you'll catch 'em if you hurry up. hope you will, and--run 'em in. good-bye." he set the engine at full speed again, and as the aeroplane soared on like a swallow its departure was followed by a lusty british cheer. "three hours late, mister," rodier bawled in smith's ear. chapter vii the white djinn it was half-past six by smith's watch, near eleven by local time, when the aeroplane sailed across the long mangrove swamp that forms the western side of the harbour of karachi. the sun was intensely fierce, and smith, who found its glare affecting his eyes painfully, had donned a pair of huge blue-glass goggles. he was glad that he had done so when, passing over the crowded shipping of the port, he saw the sandy arid tracts around and beyond the town. steamers hooted as the aeroplane flew above them; half-naked coolies lading the vessels with wheat and cotton, the produce of sindh and the punjab, dropped their loads and stared upwards in stupefied amazement. smith could not wait to enjoy his first view of an indian city. his business was to land at the first convenient place and find mr. john jenkinson, whose godown was near the custom house, and obtain from him the petrol bespoken by mr. barracombe. being in complete ignorance where the custom house lay, though he guessed it would be somewhere near the seafront, he was at first at a loss in which direction to make. there was no suitable landing-place in the crowded city itself, and to the immediate south of it there appeared to be nothing but mangrove swamps. ascending to a considerable height, however, he saw, some distance to the east, near a railway line, a stretch of open brownish ground on which little red flags stood up at intervals. he instantly jumped to the conclusion that this was the golf course, though at this time of day there were no players to confirm his judgment. this was an advantage, because it promised that he might land without being beset by curious spectators. accordingly he steered in that direction, hoping that having safely landed his aeroplane he might find some means of reaching the merchant whose name mr. barracombe had cabled to him. it happened that, just as the aeroplane swooped down upon the golf course, an open vehicle like a victoria was driving slowly along a road that crossed it from the railway towards the city. the turbaned driver pulled up his horse and stared open-mouthed at this extraordinary apparition from the sky, and when the aeroplane alighted, and from the car stepped a tall, dirty creature with a monstrously ugly face, the native whipped up his horse and with shrill cries sought to escape the clutches of what he felt in his trembling soul must be a djinn of the most evil kind. smith shouted to him to stop, but in vain; whereupon he picked up his heels and ran to overtake the carriage. the horse was a sorry specimen, and smith, being a very passable sprinter, soon came up with it, jumped in, and called to the driver to take him to mr. jenkinson's godown. the man yelled with fear, and in sheer panic flogged his horse until it went at a gallop, the vehicle swaying in a manner that any one but a sailor would have found unpleasant. both horse and driver seemed to be equally affected with terror, but since the carriage was going towards the city smith was perfectly well satisfied, and did not turn a hair even when it narrowly escaped a collision with a bullock-wagon. on they went, past some buildings on the right which appeared to be barracks, until they reached a street in which there were so many people that smith thought it time to pull up before mischief was done. leaning forward, he gripped the driver's dhoti and drew him slowly backward. the man yelled again; the passers-by stood in wonderment; but with his backward movement the driver tightened his grip on the reins, and within a few yards the panting horse came to a standstill. "where is mr. jenkinson's godown?" said smith, releasing the driver. but the man's terror was too much for him. throwing the reins on the horse's back, he sprang from his seat and fled, a vision of bare brown legs twinkling amid white cotton drapery. by this time a crowd of chattering natives had gathered round, who, not having seen the aeroplane, were more amazed at the driver's evident terror than at the passenger. he was dirty, it is true, and not clad like the sahibs whom they were accustomed to meet, but when he had removed his goggles they saw that he was certainly a sahib. smith was about to ask some one to direct him to mr. jenkinson's when a native policeman pushed his way through the crowd, and in a shrill, high-pitched voice and wonderful english, announced that he had come to take the number of the carriage; it was clearly a case of furious driving to the danger of the public. "shut up!" said smith impatiently. "find me a driver to take me to jenkinson sahib." "certainly, your honor," said the man, becoming deferential at once. one of the bystanders, seeing the chance of earning a few pice, volunteered to drive. "jenkinson sahib? all right, sahib; down by custom house. you bet!" the carriage rolled off, followed by a crowd of runners, eager out of pure inquisitiveness to see the matter through. they passed government house, turned into dusty macleod road, and in five or six minutes reached the custom house, where, turning to the left for a short distance along the napier mole, the driver pulled up at a wooden godown, and said-- "here we are again, sahib. jenkinson sahib, all right." smith ordered the man to wait for him, and went into the godown. here he met with a disappointment. in answer to his inquiry the native clerk, looking at him curiously, said that mr. jenkinson was not there, was not even in karachi. at this smith looked blank. "your name, sir, is lieutenant smith?" said the clerk politely, but with an air of doubt. "it is." "then i tell you what, sir. cable came yesterday for mr. jenkinson. i wired it, instanter, as per instructions, to esteemed employer at mahableshwar, where he recuperates exhausted energies. reply just come. here you are: 'refer lieutenant smith mr. macdonald. regret absence.' mr. macdonald, sir, little way off. i have honour to escort you: do proper thing." he conducted smith some distance down the mole, the carriage following. luckily mr. macdonald had not returned to his bungalow for tiffin, but was napping in a little room behind his office, darkened by close trellises, which are found necessary for keeping out the clouds of sand blown up from the shore. "eh, what?" said mr. macdonald, when his clerk awakened him. "a visitor this time of day? well, show him in." he let a little light into the room, and stared when smith was introduced. smith was dripping with perspiration, and not having been able to wash since leaving london, he felt that his appearance must give a fellow-countryman something of a shock. "what do ye want, man?" asked mr. macdonald, somewhat testily. "mr. jenkinson referred me to you, sir--" "i have no vacancies, none whatever, and--" "my name is lieutenant smith, of his majesty's navy, and i have just arrived from england." "i beg your pardon, mr. smith; i took ye for--well, i don't know what. take a wee drappie? you came by the _peninsular_, no doubt. i hear she came in this morning." "no. i came by aeroplane." the scotsman stared. "what's that ye were saying?" "by aeroplane. the fact is, mr. macdonald, i'm in a hurry. i've got to get off within an hour or so; and i want some petrol for my engine. mr. jenkinson was to have arranged it for me, but being absent he refers me to you, and i shall be immensely obliged if you can manage it for me, and excuse my not entering into particulars, for which i really haven't time." "is that a fact? petrol, is it? come away with me; only, upon my word, sir, i will take it very kind if you will give me a few particklers of this astonishing business as we go." he put on a sun helmet, and led the way from the room. jumping into the victoria, he ordered the temporary coachman to drive to harris road, a quarter of a mile beyond the custom house. in the two minutes occupied by the drive, smith told the scotsman merely that he had come from constantinople and was proceeding immediately to penang on important business. "it took ye a week, i suppose?" "no, i left there rather less than twenty-four hours ago." "man, you astonish me; fair take my breath away. but here we are." he alighted at a store kept by a parsi. it was a matter of a few moments to purchase the petrol and machine oil, smith paying for it with english gold. the tins were rolled out; mr. macdonald hailed a closed cab, into which they were put, and then they set off to return to the golf links, mr. macdonald accompanying smith, curious to see the machine which had performed such an astonishing journey. "i've read in the papers about these aeroplanes, but never seen one yet. is it your opinion, now, that we'll have a war in the air one of these days?" "i shouldn't wonder. we shall have cruisers and battleships, air torpedoes and destroyers, air mines and air submarines." "are you pulling my leg, now?" asked mr. macdonald, but he received no reply, for smith had noticed an european provision shop, and remembering that his biscuits and chocolate were running low, he called to the driver to stop, and made some purchases. he took the opportunity to lay in a dozen bottles of soda-water, and added a few packets of rodier's favourite cigarettes, for smoking during the halts, for he would never allow a match to be struck near the engine. mr. macdonald plied him with questions during the remainder of the drive, and smith was ready enough with his answers except on his personal concerns. when they arrived at the links they found the aeroplane surrounded by a vast crowd. the majority were natives, but there was a sprinkling of englishmen in the inner circle, and some soldiers from the barracks were doing police duty in keeping the onlookers at a distance from the aeroplane. two british officers and some civilians were talking to rodier, who was cleaning the engine with the assistance of a young fellow with the cut of a ship's engineer. the arrival of the cabs caused a stir among the spectators. smith alighted, asked mr. macdonald to see that the petrol and provisions were carried quickly to the aeroplane, and advanced to ask rodier how he had been getting on. "like a house on fire, mister," replied the man. "mr. jones here is just off the _peninsular_, and has helped a lot." "i say," said one of the officers, "is your man stuffing us up? he says you have come from london in twenty-four hours." "quite true, hawley," said smith, with a smile. "remember i googlied you for a duck at lord's last year?" the officer stared. "by george, it's charley smith! i didn't know you; you're like a sweep. yes, by george! and i stumped you and got it back on you. how are you? rogers, this is a gentleman of the king's navee--charley smith, elphinstone rogers." "how d'e do? rummy machine, what!" said captain rogers. "yes, by george!" said hawley. "what's your little game?" "i've got seven days' leave, and am off big game hunting. can't wait for liners in these times." "you don't say so!" "tigers, eh?" said rogers. "wish i was you! but is it safe? looks uncommon flimsy, what!" "i hope for the best, but i haven't got a minute to spare. sorry i can't have a go at your pads again, hawley. finished, roddy?" "all complete, mister." "all the stuff onboard?" "yes." "well, mr.--jones, is it? much obliged to you. roddy, pay those fellows who've carried the stuff, and the drivers." he handed him some silver. "hoots, man," said mr. macdonald; "that'll never do. they'll swank for a week if you give them all that. leave it to me." "all right. you know best. many thanks for your help. hawley, d'you mind getting your men to clear the course? i don't want to break any bones. and perhaps you'll send a cable home for me. address thesiger smith, cosham. say 'all well.'" "i'll do it, with pleasure." "thanks. good-bye. sorry i've got to rush off." he shook hands all round, and jumped on board. rodier had already taken his place at the engine. it took a minute or two for the soldiers to force the crowd back, an interval which smith utilized to trace on the map, for rodier's guidance, the course he had decided to follow. then, the clatter of the starting engine silencing the clamour of the crowd, the aeroplane ran forward and soared into the air. its ascent was hailed with a babel of shouts and cheers. smith waved his hand to his friends below; then, seeing that rodier had the map before him, he spread himself in his seat for a comfortable nap. chapter viii a ship on fire rodier had his full share of the gallic dash which had won first honours in airmanship for france, but it was combined with the coolness and circumspection bred of scientific training, so that smith was able to take repose in serene confidence that, barring accidents, the aeroplane would fly as safely under rodier's charge as under his own. karachi was soon a mere speck amid the sand. in less than half-an-hour the aeroplane was crossing the swampy delta of the indus. soon afterwards it flew over the run of cutch into gujarat, leaving the hills of kathiawar on the right. sweeping over the head of the gulf of cambay, it crossed the railway line from bombay to baroda, and then the broad river nerbudda. the city gleaming white in the sunlight, far to the left, must be baroda itself. the course traced by smith in the few minutes before leaving karachi, avoided the high western ghauts that fringe the indian coast to far south of bombay. rodier therefore steered somewhat to the east, coming in the course of twenty minutes to the river tapti. seeing a line of mountains straight ahead, he swung round still more to the east, following the valley of the river until he had completely turned the mountains, the northernmost spurs of the ghauts. now he turned south-east once more, crossed the chandaur chain, and presently came in sight of the godaveri river, which traverses the whole breadth of hyderabad. near indor he left the river on his left. by this time it was becoming dark. smith still slept, and rodier, who was not able to steer by the stars, was considering whether he had not better waken his employer when he spied the characteristic glare from a locomotive furnace far ahead. in half-a-minute he had caught up the train, and slowed down to make sure of the direction in which the railway ran. he found that it was almost exactly south-south-east, and concluded from a glance at the map that he was above the connection of the hyderabad railway running from warangal to the coast of the bay of bengal. reassured, he resolved to let smith have his sleep out, followed the line until it swept eastward at secunderabad, and then, steering a little to the left, put the engine once more to full speed. in less than an hour afterwards he saw a vast expanse of water glistening in the light of the rising moon, and knew that he had reached the sea. being by this time thoroughly stiff and tired, and knowing, moreover, that smith would navigate the aeroplane over the sea with much more certainty than himself, he shouted to awaken him. this proving ineffectual, he leant over and nudged his shoulder. smith was awake in an instant. "where are we?" he cried; but no answer was necessary; he saw the sea below him, and stretching far to the east, north, and south. he exchanged places with rodier, who, too tired even to eat, fell asleep at once. "good thing he woke me," thought smith. it was one thing to fly over land, with guiding marks in the shape of rivers, mountains, and other physical features that could be recognized more or less easily from the map; and quite another to cross the pathless ocean. but with a compass and a clear sky the course would present no difficulty to a seaman, and smith settled down to a flight that would be without obstruction for at least seven hundred miles. he knew that in the bay of bengal the prevailing wind at that season is south-westerly. whether there was any wind or not it was impossible to ascertain while the aeroplane was maintaining its enormous speed; certainly there was none to cause unsteadiness. if wind there was, it blew in his, favour, and all that he would have to do would be to allow in steering for a slight northerly drift. he would certainly sight the nicobar group, and possibly the andaman islands if he did not make sufficient allowance for the wind; but he was determined not to alight if he could help it until he arrived at penang; he had lost time enough already. it was the first time he had flown across so wide an expanse of sea, and he felt a touch of anxiety lest the engine should break down. if any accident should happen he had made up his mind that the only thing to be done was to don the lifebuoys, cut the engine loose, and trust to the buoys to keep them and the planes afloat until their plight was observed from some passing vessel. in the darkness this would, of course, prove a vain hope; even in daylight the chance that a vessel would be in sight was remote. but the die was cast: the engine was as yet working perfectly; and in three or four hours, all being well, he would come in sight of land. there being no obstruction to fear, he kept at a height of only a hundred feet above sea level. the sea was calm, gleaming like a sheet of silver in the moonlight, so that the aeroplane seemed to fly over a continuous glistening track. steadily it flew on; smith had nothing to do but to sit still, feed the engine with petrol, and keep his eyes alternately on the compass and the stars. at length, about six o'clock by his watch--past eleven in the longitude to which he had arrived--he caught sight ahead of a dark outline on the water, no doubt a group of islands, though whether the andamans or the nicobars he did not feel sure. knowing that they were all hilly in formation, he slackened speed, intending to run down their coastline rather than cross them. it would not be difficult to find one of the many channels between them through which he could continue his flight, past the northern end of sumatra to penang. by taking a southerly course, moreover, he would, be able to assure himself of his direction. after a short run parallel with the coastline he came to a wide channel which he believed to be, and subsequently ascertained to be, the ten degree channel between little andaman and car nicobar. from this, if he was right, there would be an uninterrupted course south-east to penang. but within half-an-hour of entering the channel, still flying low, he suddenly ran into a dense cloud of exceedingly pungent smoke, which completely hid the sea beneath him. it made him cough, and woke rodier with a start. "what's this, mister?" he shouted, rubbing his eyes. "forest on fire," shouted smith in reply, though he was surprised to meet with the smoke so far from land as he supposed himself to be. he hastily planed upwards, in case, by some error of navigation, he had come upon land and might endanger the aeroplane among hills or tree-tops, and also to avoid the risk of explosion from a stray spark. still more surprised was he when, after only a few seconds, the aeroplane passed completely through the smoke, and he saw the sea again. at that instant, just as they reached the windward side of the smoke-cloud, which was evidently blown by an easterly wind, rodier gave a cry. "mon dieu! a ship on fire!" smith instantly checked the engine, and, swinging round in a narrow circle, saw a dark shape below him from which smoke was pouring up. there was no flame, but as the aeroplane dropped gently downwards smith saw that rodier's explanation must be correct, the ship being a sailing vessel. a fire at sea is the sailor's worst terror. urgent as was his own errand, smith could not pass without at least inquiry, so he sank still lower, steering as close alongside the vessel on the windward side as the planes would allow. he perceived now that she was dismasted and had a bad list. lifting his megaphone, he shouted-- "ahoy there! who are you?" no answer reached him, though he saw that the crew were crowding on deck, gazing up at him, and one man, no doubt the captain, was making a trumpet of his hands. "i can't hear owing to the noise of my engine," shouted smith. "haven't you got a megaphone?" he was acutely conscious at that moment of two disadvantages which the airman had not yet been able to surmount. he had not yet invented a noiseless engine, nor could he keep the aeroplane motionless in the air. if smith could have transformed his vessel for a few minutes into a zeppelin airship he would gladly have done it. now a megaphone had been brought to the captain, and his words came, though faintly, to the ears of the airmen. "barque _elizabeth_, from calcutta to dundee with jute. dismasted in a cyclone ten days ago west of the andamans; been adrift ever since. fire broke out in cargo in the fore hold; had as much as we could do to keep it under; no time to rig a jury mast. afraid of flames bursting through any minute." he asked no questions and showed no surprise about the aeroplane. it was evident that he could give no thought to anything but the desperate plight of his vessel. smith was in great perplexity. he could do nothing for the ship; perhaps his best course would be to make all speed for the nearest port and send a steamer to her assistance. an idea struck him. "can't you get off in your boats?" he called. "all carried away but one. she won't hold half of us. besides, can't desert the ship." "many passengers?" "only my daughter." "his daughter, roddy. i wish we could do something, but i don't know what." "ah! go down and lift her off, mister." smith reflected. a girl would probably weigh little more than the petrol they had consumed. the suggestion was feasible, and if the captain's daughter had pluck enough to risk the journey, no doubt her father would be glad to know that she at least was safe. "we can but make 'em the offer," he said to rodier; then shouted through the megaphone: "we're coming down. get your men to clear the deck aft, and show lights and stand by to lend a hand." all this time the aeroplane was moving slowly in circles over the vessel, being still careful to keep on the windward side for fear of sparks. when smith's instructions had been carried out, he selected a landing place just abaft the mizzen and, warping his planes alternately, brought the aeroplane gently to the deck. fortunately the bulwarks were sufficiently low not to catch the planes or the stays supporting them. smith and rodier stepped on deck, and were instantly surrounded by a group of the officers and crew. "get for'ard," shouted the captain to the men. "d'you want to see a blaze?" he was left with the first mate. "i'm in a pretty fix, sir," he said, after a rapid glance at smith. "we drifted south and southeast after the storm, then lay becalmed for a day or two; yesterday an east wind sprang up and carried us northward." "what are your bearings?" asked smith. "i'm in the navy." "you don't say so, sir! yesterday's observations gave us latitude nine degrees forty-seven minutes south and longitude ninety-four degrees thirty-two minutes east." "well, look here, the best thing i can do is to run for a port and send you help." "i'd take it very kind if you would, sir. i was thinking of sending my daughter off in the boat to-morrow with a few men; but we've managed to keep the fire under so far, and if there's a chance of getting help within a day, say, perhaps we can keep all together. it's terribly risky in these seas in an open boat." "well, i'll set a course for penang--" "port blair's nearer, sir, in south andaman." "but i'm more likely to find a fast steamer at penang. and as to your daughter, captain, she'd better come along with us." "in that what-you-may-call-it, sir?" "yes, certainly. we can easily carry her, and make a comfortable seat for her behind ours if you give us a cushion. we've come from london, so she needn't be afraid." "from london! near seven thousand miles! jigger me if ever i heard the like of it! what do you think of that, mr. mcwhirter?" "rather a long un," replied the mate. "well, hang me, if you've come across the bay of bengal, you're sartin sure to be able to make penang. she shall go with you, and that'll be one load off my mind. go and fetch her, mr. mcwhirter. she's rather a superior gal, sir, though i say it myself. she's had a rattling good eddication; talks french like a native, and as for music and singing, i've never heard any gal as could touch her, that's a fact. here she is." smith was not sorry that the outflow of paternal pride was checked. he wanted to get on. a girl of about twenty came forward with the mate. she was very self-possessed, and met smith's look frankly. "my daughter, mr. ----. i don't know your name, sir," said the captain. "my name's smith." he doffed his cap. "now, margy, my girl, mr. smith, who's in the navy, is going to be so kind as to take you in his what-you-may-call-it to penang, and send a steamer to take us off or tow us in, as the case may be." the girl looked startled, glancing from smith to the aeroplane, and then at her father. "i think i'd rather stay with you, father," she said quietly. "and i'd rather you didn't," he said bluntly. "you don't know the risk as i do, my gal," he added kindly. "the blessed ship may blaze at any moment." "i know, father; but we've been in danger for several days, and i've got used to it." "ay, that's true, and you've been an uncommon plucky girl, i _will_ say. she ain't like them females that faint and go into high strikes and fidget your life out," he said to smith, who observed the girl's face flush. "now, my dear, you'll go with mr. smith, and please your old father. there ain't a morsel of danger; he's come safe all the way from london, and i never see a better bit of manoeuvring, i _will_ say, than when he brought the what-you-may-call-it down on the deck as light as a feather. it'll be a big sight safer than this poor old hulk, and i'll be thankful to know as you're safe in penang. you can berth with my old friend sam upton and his missis, and please god i'll come for you in a day or two." "i assure you, miss--miss margaret," said smith, "that there's really very little risk. we've come six thousand odd miles safely, and it's not far to penang, you know. you won't be the first lady to fly in an aeroplane." "ma foi, non!" cried rodier, unable to keep silence any longer. "i myself, mademoiselle, have kept company in an aeroplane with a lady. ah, bah! vous parlez français; eh bien! cette femme-là a été ravie, enchantée; elle m'a assuré que ce moment-là fut le plus heureux de sa vie." "shut up, roddy," whispered smith, smiling, however, as he caught a twinkle of amusement in the girl's eyes. "i will go if you wish," she said to the captain, without replying to rodier. "that's right. mr. mcwhirter, will you please get a couple of cushions and put them in the thingummy where mr. smith shows you." the seat was quickly prepared. meanwhile smith consulted with rodier on the somewhat delicate problem how to make a start from the deck, which obviously did not afford more than a few feet of running-off space. rodier hit on a solution, and by the time the passenger's seat was ready the necessary arrangements had been made. "now, my gal," said the captain, "step aboard. you sing like a bird; it's only right you should fly like one." it was obvious that the worthy seaman was making clumsy efforts to be cheerful. "i'll see you in two days, or three at most; we've got a raft ready, you know, in case the fire beats us. but, bless you, i shouldn't be surprised if we have a fire-engine coming through the sky next; there's no knowing what these clever young sparks won't be inventing. god bless you!" the girl threw her arms round her father's neck. smith turned away; there were tears in the old man's eyes. the captain conducted her to her place. then he took smith aside. "you'll look after my gal, sir?" he said in an undertone. "she's all i've got. suppose you _do_ come down; what then?" "i shall jettison the engine and keep afloat by the planes. we've a couple of life buoys, too. but i don't think we shall come down, so make yourself easy, and we'll save your vessel." "there's one man that never forgets a good turn, and that's john bunce. where shall i find you in penang, sir, if i get there safe?" "oh! i shan't be there. i'm going straight on to the solomon islands." "well, sir, if you're ever rotherhithe way, you'll find me at prince's road; i'm retiring after this voyage. margy'll be proud to give you a cup of tea, and i _will_ say i'd like you to hear her sing." "all right, i won't forget. all ready, roddy?" "ready and waiting, mister." smith went to his place. "are you quite comfortable, miss bunce?" he said, noticing that the girl was pale and nervous. "i'm sorry i can't give you my seat, but my man and i must sit together. you'll forgive us for turning our backs on you." the girl smiled faintly without speaking. several of the crew had ranged themselves on each side of the aeroplane, to hold it steady until the propellers had worked up a good speed. smith started the engine; the deafening whirr began: then at the word "go!" the sailors released their holds and the aeroplane lurched forward just clear of the bulwarks. margaret bunce clutched the rail nervously. one or two of the men had been somewhat slow in letting go, causing the aeroplane to cant over in a manner that was alarming to the onlookers. but long practice with the aeroplane in all kinds of gusty weather had developed in smith an instinct for the right means of meeting an emergency of this nature. like a bicyclist, he did the right thing without thinking. the vessel righted itself at a touch on the warping lever, and in two or three seconds she was sailing rapidly away from the ship. chapter ix a passenger for penang from the information given him by captain bunce, smith hoped to pick up the lights of penang without much difficulty. while on the ship's deck he had noticed that the easterly breeze was very light, so that even with the slight additional weight he carried, his speed would not be greatly diminished. with good luck three or four hours would see him safe in port. rodier pulled out his watch soon after they started, and comparing it with the schedule of the journey, shouted in smith's ear-- "we are four hours late, mister." "i know we are," cried smith. "confound you, roddy, you're always telling me i'm late. if you say anything like that again i'll throw you out." rodier grinned. "mademoiselle wouldn't like that," he shouted. "tout va bien, mademoiselle?" he said, turning to the lady. "vous n'avez pas peur?" "it is terribly fast," said the girl breathlessly, and rodier came to the conclusion that captain bunce's opinion of his daughter's linguistic ability was exaggerated. the moon had set, and the flight was continued in almost total darkness. at length, shortly before four o'clock in the morning, smith caught sight of lights ahead. he had touched at penang some years before, when his first ship was on her way out to the australian station, and he knew that the most suitable place for alighting was a large open space, clear of vegetation and buildings, about a mile from the port. in a few minutes the aeroplane was flying over the sleeping town. he slackened speed, and circled around for some time, seeking the spot with the aid of his searchlight. he discovered it with more ease than he had dared to hope, and bidding rodier look out for obstacles, descended to the ground. "here we are, miss bunce," he said cheerfully, as he stepped out. "i hope you feel none the worse for your ride." "it is wonderful," said the girl. "i shall never forget it." "the question is, what are we to do now? your father mentioned a friend of his, but as i have little time to spare i think you had better come with me to my friend mr. daventry. he is in the administration here, and i am sure mrs. daventry will be glad to do anything she can for you. you see, i can find my way there in the dark, i think, whereas we should have to wait until daylight to find your father's friend, and that would be a nuisance in every way." "i will do whatever you think best." leaving rodier with the aeroplane, the other two set off towards the town. "you will try to send help to father?" said the girl. "as soon as it's light. this is sunday morning, by the way. _you_'re all right, but i'm afraid i look far from sundayish. still, no one can see me, and i shall be off before the people go to church." "so soon as that? aren't you very tired?" "not so tired as i've been in the manoeuvres. we get a nap in turn, you know." "how _can_ you sleep when you're in such terrible danger?" "well, you see i'm used to it. we don't think of the danger. perhaps it's because i've never had a bad accident. the want of a decent meal is the worst of it. we haven't had one since thursday night, but i daresay we can keep going on light fare for another three or four days." "you know i've often wanted to go up in an aeroplane, though i suspect i should have backed out if i had really had the chance. i'm very glad father insisted on my coming, but i wish it had been daylight; i could only hold on and try not to be afraid." "i'm sorry we can't take you with us--no, i don't quite mean that, miss bunce; of course you couldn't come careering about; what i mean is that i shall be very glad to take you a daylight trip one of these days if you care to come--when we get back home, of course. captain bunce was kind enough to give me an invitation; he said you would give me a cup of tea--" "and sing to you! i know exactly what he said; but you mustn't pay too much attention to father. he's a dear old man, but quite absurd over my little accomplishments." "but i may have a cup of tea?" "with or without sugar--if you really mean it." "of course i mean it. one of these days you will find my aeroplane at your door--" "good gracious! it will be in pieces, then, for our street isn't wide enough to give it room." "well, you'll find _me_ at the door then; and after i have had my cup of tea, with three lumps of sugar, and you have sung a little song--just to please your father, of course--we will walk to where my man is waiting with the aeroplane, two or three streets off, and we'll take a jaunt to greenwich park, or richmond, or wherever you like." "that will be very nice," said miss bunce, and smith wished it were not too dark to see her face, for the tone expressed utter disbelief. he wanted to assure her that he meant what he said, but, reflecting that he had better not seem to suggest that she doubted it, he said-- "that's settled, then. i suppose it will be three or four months before you get home, and i shan't have another leave for i don't know how long, so we won't fix a date. now mr. daventry's bungalow is in this direction; i hope i shall be able to find it." they walked about for some minutes before smith was able to satisfy himself that he had discovered the bungalow. they passed through the compound, looked with a smile at the native servant sleeping on a mat at the door, and laughed to see him jump when awakened by smith's vigorous rapping. at a word from smith the man went into the dwelling, but a moment afterwards a window above the entrance was thrown open, and a loud voice demanded what was the matter. "that you, daventry?" smith called. "yes. who are you? what's the matter?" "it's charley smith. sorry to disturb you at this unearthly hour, old chap." "what in the name of--! all right. i'll come down." they saw a light struck; in a minute they saw framed in the doorway a tall man in pyjamas, holding a candle. "come in, smith," he cried. "why, what the--! here, i say, i won't be a minute." setting down the candle on the doorstep, he hurriedly fled. smith glanced at the girl. she was quite unembarrassed, and when she caught his eye she frankly smiled. "she's the right sort," he said to himself. presently mr. daventry returned in trousers and a smoking jacket. "excuse my leaving you. i went to--to waken mary," he said. "she'll be down in a minute; come in. didn't know you were married, old boy," he whispered, taking smith by the arm. "hush!" said smith anxiously, hoping that margaret bunce had not caught the words. mr. daventry led them into his dining-room, turned on the lights, and looked inquiringly at his visitors. the girl was already unpinning her low cloth hat. "why, what on earth--!" exclaimed mr. daventry; "what have you been doing to yourself, smith?" "i _am_ a bit of a sweep, no doubt, but you can give me a bath. the fact is--well, it's plaguey difficult to tell it shortly--but the fact is i picked up this lady--no, hang it all! miss bunce, please help me out." "mr. smith picked me up, as he says, from a burning ship in mid-ocean, and was kind enough to bring me here in his aeroplane." "sounds simple, don't it?" said smith, as mr. daventry looked from one to the other in amazement. "but--i don't understand--mid-ocean--an aeroplane? mary," he added to a lady in a dressing-gown who had just entered, "come and listen to this. you know charley smith? miss--miss--" "margaret bunce," said the girl, rising. "my wife. now, let us all sit down and see if we can make this out. if i understand aright miss bunce was in a burning ship in mid-ocean--" "oh, poor thing!" said mrs. daventry sympathetically, going to margaret and taking her hand. "and--correct me if i'm wrong--smith descended out of the clouds, caught up miss bunce, and flew with her to the house of his nearest friend. is your aeroplane outside, old man?" "it's a mile away, in charge of my chauffeur. i think i had better tell the whole story from the beginning." "i think so, too; it's rather cloudy at present. have a cigar--if the ladies don't mind." "well, two days ago i learnt that my father was shipwrecked along with the company of his survey vessel on one of the solomons, practically unarmed, the report says. as the news was taken to brisbane by some of the crew in an open boat, they must have been at the mercy of the savages for a week or more, and probably hard pushed. of course a gunboat was to be sent to relieve them, but as every hour was important i decided to try to get to them in my aeroplane and take them some ammunition. last night, coming somewhere south of the andamans, we saw a ship on fire; she was adrift, lost her masts and all boats but one. the captain asked me to send help as soon as i got here, and miss bunce was good enough to accept our escort, and here we are." "good heavens!" exclaimed mr. daventry. "but--i don't understand yet. how did you come to be by the andamans? where did you come from?" "left london early friday morning: came by constantinople and karachi." "upon my word, smith, if i didn't know you i should be inclined to ask if you are sober. you have come all the way from london since friday morning?" "exactly. but i know you'll excuse me: i haven't time to tell you any more. we are already four hours late, and every hour means nearly two hundred miles. there are two things i want to do. first to arrange with the port officer to send help to captain bunce; then to get the petrol and lubricating oil ordered for me here. van kloof's the man. you know him, of course." "yes, but it's sunday." "the better the day, the better the deed. i must have the petrol; i must start in two hours or less. and i should like a good bath and a breakfast first." "you shall have both, but surely you can wait till daylight." "i'm afraid i can't. it is very awkward, i admit, and i fear i shall give you and several others a lot of trouble; but needs must when the devil drives, as they say, and the devil in this case is father time. you see, i've not only got to take some rifles and ammunition to the shipwrecked party, but i must rejoin my ship by friday morning, or there'll be ructions. i've got a name for overstepping the limit, and my captain warned me that i'd better rejoin promptly this time." "we mustn't hinder him, jack," said mrs. daventry. "but, hang it all, mary, do you understand what it means? he'll kill himself, rushing round the world like this." "not at all; i'm pretty tough," said smith. "now, old fellow, what is the best you can do for me?" "go and get your things on, jack," said mrs. daventry practically. "you can take mr. smith down to the harbour and get what he wants. i'll see about the bath and the breakfast, and i am sure miss bunce will help; i won't disturb the servants. really, it is quite exciting." "thank you, mrs. daventry. it is very good of you. but i'm sure miss bunce ought to go to sleep." "i am not a bit sleepy," said the girl, "and i shall certainly help mrs. daventry." "come along then, my dear," said the hostess. "we will go and see to things at once." in five minutes mr. daventry was down. he and smith left the house and made their way rapidly to the harbour. the port officer complained at having his beauty sleep disturbed, and when he learnt that his assistance was wanted for a burning ship near the andamans he declared that he wished wireless had never been invented. "people know too much nowadays," he grumbled. "they'll know what we think before we think it next." "don't undeceive him," whispered smith to daventry, anxious to escape the necessity of lengthy explanations. the port officer agreed to send a steamer in search of the _elizabeth_ as soon as it was light. then, without losing a minute, daventry led smith to the house of mr. van kloof, of whom the petrol had been ordered. "he's a bit of a slow-coach," said daventry, "and will want to know all about it, so i advise you to tell him everything; or better still, leave it to me." "very well. anything to save time." mr. van kloof was hard to awaken. when he was at last aroused by his servants, he put his head out of his bedroom window, and demanded gruffly what was the matter. "come down, van kloof, and i'll explain. it's a matter of life or death," said daventry. "vat is it? an earthquake?" "worse than that. slip into your breeches, man." the merchant presently appeared at his door in shirt and breeches, and carrying a revolver. "you got a cable from london ordering eighty gallons of petrol to be held ready for lieutenant smith?" said daventry. "so. dat is quite true." "well, here is lieutenant smith, and he wants the petrol at once." mr. daventry explained where the petrol was to be sent. "no, it cannot be done, mr. daventry. it is sunday morning. my store is closed, and i do not understand the hurry." "lieutenant smith is off to the solomon islands to save his father from being eaten by cannibals. there isn't a moment to lose." "dat is strange. for vy should i take oil for a motor-boat up country? you are playing games vid me?" "of course not. he's not going by motor-boat, but by aeroplane." "oho! tell dat to the marines." "hang it, van kloof, listen without interrupting. mr. smith has come by aeroplane from london, and is going on at once. give me the key of your store, and we'll go and get the stuff ourselves." "veil, of all the--pardon me, gentlemen, but you vill allow me to be shocked to hear such news at five o'clock on a sunday morning. i vill come vid you. i must vake up some coolies to carry the cans. but it shall be done; i vill myself see to it. i must look vell at dis aeroplane." "you're sure we can rely on you?" "i vill bring all before an hour, you may trust me for dat." "then we'll hurry back, smith, and see about your breakfast. what about your man, by the way?" "he's cleaning the engine by searchlight, and eating sardines and biscuits, or something of the sort." "couldn't we fetch him?" "i'm afraid there isn't time, and besides, he can hardly leave the aeroplane unattended. it's hard lines, but i'll make it up to him when we get back." they returned to the bungalow. a steaming bath was ready. when smith had bathed, he found hot coffee and eggs awaiting him. he ate and drank ravenously, and in a quarter of an hour declared that he must get back to the aeroplane. "nonsense," said daventry. "the petrol won't be there for half-an-hour yet. you'll just lie down and rest, and have a comfortable smoke. i'll go up the hill and take some food to your man." "you're a good fellow," said smith, dropping into a capacious arm-chair. mrs. daventry arranged a cushion behind his head, miss bunce placed a stool for him to stretch his legs on, and in half-a-minute he was fast asleep. "don't wake him for an hour," said mr. daventry, as he left the house; "i'll see that all is ready for him." the sun was rising when mrs. daventry, now dressed for outdoors, wakened the sleeper by lifting his hand. he sprang up with a start. "now, don't be agitated," said mrs. daventry. "it's just six o'clock. jack has gone to see that all is ready for you, and miss bunce and i are coming to see you start. really, i quite envy her, though i'm sure i should never have the courage to go up in the air." "you'll think nothing of it some day. you've been very kind, and i'm immensely obliged to you. by the way, will you ask daventry, in case i forget it, to send a cable to my sister to say that i'm all right?" "i won't forget. now shall we go?" they found that a small crowd had collected round the aeroplane. mr. daventry and mr. van kloof were there, with several other englishmen, and a number of chinese coolies and nondescript natives stood at a little distance, gazing in wondering silence. rodier had his watch in his hand, and looked reproachfully at his employer. smith pressed through the crowd, shaking hands with the englishmen one after another, but declaring that he had no time for talking. he shook hands with the daventrys and miss bunce last of all, thanking them very heartily for their assistance; then, calling for a clear space, he followed rodier to his seat. almost before the onlookers could realize what was happening, the aeroplane was in action, and while they were still discussing the extraordinary nature of this means of locomotion, it had soared into the air, flown humming away from them, and become a mere speck in the eastern sky. they were scarcely clear of the ground before rodier, raising his voice to a bellow, shouted-- "mister!" "yes. what?" replied smith, fearing that something was wrong. "mister! we are four hours ten minutes late!" interlude "i'm afraid it's all up, doctor." day had just broken. lieutenant underhill, standing rifle in hand at his post in a corner of the barricade, addressed dr. thesiger smith, who had come to relieve him. "you think we can't hope for relief?" replied the doctor. "yes. the boat must have foundered, or got lost, or perhaps has fallen into the hands of the savages. we've come to our last tin of biscuits; we've hardly ten rounds of cartridges among us." "what can we do then?" "either fight till we drop, or give in; there's nothing else. the end will be the same either way, but the first would be the quicker." the doctor stroked his beard with his thin hand. his son joined them; not the ruddy, clean-shaven youth that had landed from the wreck twelve days before, but a gaunt man whose hollow cheeks were dark with a stubby beard. "underhill gives up hope at last," said his father. "then i'm ashamed of him," said tom cheerfully. "never say die. go and have a sleep, old man; it's enough to give any one the blues, keeping watch in the dark. you'll feel better after a nap. had any trouble?" "no, they haven't made a sound. i almost wish they had. anything would be better than this eternal keeping watch for an enemy that's afraid to come on." "well, not being a fighting man, i prefer for my part to keep a whole skin as long as i can. go and sleep, and the pater and i will talk things over." underhill, who was tired out, withdrew to the centre of the camp, and throwing himself on a tarpaulin, was soon plunged in an uneasy slumber. it was twelve days since the wreck, ten since the boat had put off to seek assistance. when the storm had subsided, the castaways, drenched to the skin, had taken stock of their situation. it was a wild and desolate spot, far from the track of ships; months might pass before a vessel came in sight. they had only a small store of food, barely sufficient, even if husbanded with the utmost care, to last a fortnight. from their position at the foot of rugged cliffs it was impossible to tell what sustenance the island afforded, and the evil reputation of the natives did not give promise of peaceful exploration. while not actually head hunters, like the inhabitants of the new georgian group to the south, they were said to be treacherous and vindictive. at the southern end of the island, as underhill knew, there was a wesleyan mission station, placed in a somewhat inaccessible spot, and at tulagi, on florida island to the south, was a government station and the seat of the resident. it might be possible to reach one or the other of these, but even so they would be compelled to wait indefinitely, there being no telegraphic communication between either and a civilized port. reflections like these did not tend to cheer the castaways; but, now that the sun shone once more out of a clear sky, the invincible optimism of the british sailorman displayed itself, and the men began to scramble up the cliffs with almost light-hearted eagerness. at the top they found themselves at the edge of a dense and tangled forest. underhill sent some of the crew to search for a likely camping place, while the remainder hauled up the boat's cargo. a comparatively clear space, about a hundred and fifty yards square, was discovered within a short distance from the cliffs. a stream running through the midst ensured a good supply of water, and here underhill determined to make his camp. great havoc had been wrought in the forest by the storm. many trees had been snapped off or uprooted; the ground was strewn with broken branches; and when the whole party were assembled at the spot, and the arms and provisions had been covered with a tarpaulin, underhill sent all hands to collect broken timber for forming a breastwork. fortunately, a good number of tools had been brought from the vessel, and as the men came in with their loads, rumbold, the ship's carpenter, set to work, with the assistance of two or three, to surround the enclosure with a rough fence. underhill ordered them to avoid the use of hammers and axes, the noise of which, carrying far in these solitudes, might attract the attention of the natives, who, for all he knew, had a village in the neighbourhood. there was no lack of tough creepers which were serviceable for binding the logs together, and a great number of cactus-like plants were cut down to form a defensive lining to the barricade. in the course of three or four hours the whole encampment had been roughly fenced. it would not, in its present condition, prove a very formidable obstacle to a determined attack; but the day had become very hot, and underhill was anxious to avoid overworking the men. the barricade could be strengthened next day. just before nightfall the company ate a spare supper of tinned meat and biscuit, and then, in a little group apart from the rest, underhill, with his officers and the smiths, held a council to decide on a course of action. they determined, after brief discussion, that next day four of the men should take the boat and try to make their way to tulagi. the loss of the second boat had rendered it impossible for the whole party to embark; but no doubt the resident at tulagi would have boats of some sort at his disposal, and in these the castaways could be taken off. when once at tulagi, they would have to wait until the first vessel touched at the island. four men, including venables, volunteered to make the voyage, and were ready to start that night; but every one was exhausted by the adventures and fatigues of the day, and underhill thought it best that they should have a night's rest before they set off. having arranged for watches to be kept as on board ship, he gave the order to turn in, and their clothes and the ground having been well dried by the afternoon sun, they passed a comfortable and undisturbed night. up at daybreak, they first of all occupied themselves with completing the barricade; then, about eleven o'clock, when they were preparing to escort the four men to the boat, which had been anchored at the foot of the cliff, some one cried out that he saw brown men advancing through the woods. underhill instantly ordered the barricade to be manned, and served out arms and ammunition as far as they would go round. there were only a dozen rifles, however, among twenty men; the rest armed themselves with tools and implements of various kinds. soon a large body of brown-skinned, fuzzy-headed natives, armed with spears, clubs, and bows and arrows, came slowly towards the camp. their attitude was apparently friendly, but, remembering their reputation for treachery, underhill did not trust them, and refused to leave the shelter of the barricade in answer to their invitation, expressed by signs, to come forth and palaver with them. it was well he refrained, for when they were within a few yards of the camp they suddenly darted forward with a wild whoop. underhill ordered his men to fire a volley over their heads, hoping to scare them away without bloodshed; but the reports of the rifles did not make the astounding impression it usually produced upon savages, and underhill could not but believe that they were not wholly unacquainted with the use of firearms. they advanced with the more ferocity, and it was not until several had fallen to another volley from behind the barricade that they drew back to the shelter of the woods. it would clearly be unsafe to attempt to reach the boat while the savages were in view. as time went on they appeared to increase in numbers, and every now and then they sent a flight of arrows into the camp. but the garrison kept out of sight behind the barricade nearest to the enemy, and their missiles either stuck in it, or fell harmlessly within the enclosure. so the day passed. the fact that trouble had come so soon impressed underhill with the necessity of sending for assistance without delay. the prospect of a siege, with only a limited supply of ammunition to repel assaults, and a scarcely greater supply of food, was very disturbing. he had little fear of being able to beat off attack so long as ammunition lasted, but when it was all spent, the savages must overpower the white men by sheer weight of numbers. venables now wished to recall his undertaking, and remain in the fighting line; but underhill decided that he must go in command of the other men. accordingly, at nightfall, the four crept through a small gap made in the seaward face of the barricade, and clambered down the cliff. underhill listened anxiously for a time, wondering whether the men had been discovered, or whether they had safely reached the boat; but after an hour of silence he concluded that either the enemy had not been watching in that quarter, or that the boat had slipped away unobserved in the darkness. the night was undisturbed, but with dawn the natives reappeared. the lesson of the previous day had not proved effectual; they came resolutely up to the barricade in a vast yelling horde. underhill ordered his men to reserve their fire until the enemy was within a few yards of the enclosure; then two rapid volleys with repeating rifles and revolvers opened a great gap in the throng, and the survivors, scared by their losses, once more betook themselves to the woods. several times during the day they returned to the attack, pushing it home each time with more determination, and towards evening with a rage and frenzy that could only be due to the stimulation of strong liquor. at this last onset the defenders were almost overwhelmed, repeated volleys seeming only to inflame the fierce warriors. for some minutes there was a hand-to-hand fight as they made desperate endeavours to scale the barricade, and only when a score of their number lay dead and wounded did they relinquish the contest. they took away the wounded, but left the dead where they lay, and in the night the garrison had the gruesome task of carrying the bodies to the edge of the cliff and casting them into the sea. for some time dr. smith was kept busy in attending to the wounded among his own party, and next day one of the stokers, struck by a poisoned arrow, succumbed to blood-poisoning, and his comrades, at dead of night, gave him sailor's burial. some days passed, and no serious attack was made, though the garrison had to be very wary to avoid the arrows which flew at intervals into the enclosure. one evening, soon after sunset, one of the men on watch noticed a small light approaching the barricade, and thought at first it was one of the phosphorescent insects which abounded in the woods, and which the garrison had seen every night like little lamps among the trees. but as it came nearer he perceived that it grew larger and brighter, and moved from side to side with more regularity than was probable with an insect, and at length he saw that it was a smouldering torch held by a native, who was waving it to and fro to cause a flame. evidently he was coming to fire the barricade. a well-directed shot brought him down, but to guard against any more attempts of the same kind underhill had the barricade constantly drenched with water from the stream, a fatiguing job, but one that was welcome to the men, in that it gave them something to do. day after day went by. it was clear that the enemy were trusting to famine to accomplish their end. luckily, it never entered their heads to hasten the inevitable by damming up the stream before it entered the enclosure. if they had done this the garrison could hardly have held out for a day. in that hot climate a constant supply of water was a prime necessity. but water without solid food would not keep them alive, and as the stock of provisions diminished, and no help came, they saw the horrors of starvation looming ever nearer. underhill and tom smith assumed a false cheerfulness before each other and the men, but on the morning of the twelfth day underhill was unable to keep up the pretence any longer. "i didn't want to show underhill," said tom to his father, when the lieutenant had gone; "but we're just about done, i think." "i'm afraid so, tom. poor jenkins had a touch of delirium in the night, and we are all getting so weak that we shall go off our heads." "well, i've got an idea. i thought i'd mention it to you before i spoke to underhill. the blacks haven't been near us for a day or two, but you may be sure they are not far off. i fancy they've got a camp or a village in the woods yonder. they must have food there, and i don't see why we shouldn't try a night attack on them, and run away with all we can lay hands upon. if we must, perish, better perish fighting than starving." "yes, but it would be folly to attempt it unless we saw a chance of success, and i see none. we don't know where their camp is; they may be constantly on the watch, and could take us in the rear and occupy our camp before we could get back. besides, we might have to go a long way, and how could we find our way back again?" "one difficulty at a time, father. as to finding our way back, we could light small fires at intervals, which would serve as guide-posts." "and betray us to the enemy." "but i shouldn't undertake it unless we discover that the course is clear. i don't believe these natives ever keep watch by night; we have seen no sign of them at night since they tried to burn us. the chief difficulty is that we don't know the exact direction of their camp, but why shouldn't i go out to-night and locate it?" "very dangerous, my boy." "there's danger anyway," replied tom, with a shrug. "i should take my pocket compass; two or three of those insects would be enough to light it." "i think we had better remain all together, tom. help may yet come. why should you imperil your life, perhaps in vain?" "well, father, i think i ought to chance it. i'll be careful! if i'm seen i can make a bolt for it; and i fancy i can pick up my heels quicker than the fuzzy-wuzzies, even though they don't wear boots." dr. smith was still loth to acquiesce in the proposal, but tom returned to it more than once during the day, and at last obtained his father's consent. it was scarcely easier to win over underhill; but with him tom cut the matter short. "you command the men," he said, with a smile. "my father commands me--in a sense, for i'd have you know i am over age. i'm going to have a try. get the men ready to make a dash when i come back, for if i succeed the sooner we set about it the better." the knowledge of his intended expedition had a wonderful effect on the spirits of the men. their faces brightened: they threw off the lethargy of despondence which had settled upon them, and discussed with some animation the chances of success. an hour after nightfall, having first looked and listened for any sign of the enemy, tom was let out through a gap in the barricade. he caught two or three light-giving insects in the bushes just beyond, and set off in the direction in which the natives had always retreated when their attacks were beaten off. it was pitch dark in the belt of forest. night insects hummed around; sometimes tom heard the rustle made by some small animal as it darted through the undergrowth; there was no other sound. he was able to determine his general direction by means of the compass, but as the forest grew thicker he began to fear that he would find more difficulty than he had anticipated in retracing his course. the damp warm air was oppressive; now and then he struck his head against a low branch, stumbled over a stump or a fallen bough, or found his feet entangled in the meshes of some creeping plant. he was soon bathed in perspiration; every new sound made him jump; and with every stumble he waited and listened with beating heart, wondering if he had betrayed his presence to the enemy. he thought ruefully that his speed as a sprinter would avail him little on ground like this; he had his revolver, but that would be useless against numbers; discovery would mean death. amid so many obstructions his progress was terribly slow. it was seven o'clock when he started; when it occurred to him to look at his watch he was startled to find that two hours had passed. he could not tell how far he had come, nor guess how far he had yet to go. he hesitated; should he go back? was there any use in struggling further? what chance was there in this dense forest of finding what he sought? might he not even miss the savages' camp altogether, go beyond it, leave it either on his right hand or his left, or perhaps stumble upon it suddenly, and be discovered before he had a chance to flee? but he put these questions from his mind. he had set out to find the camp; no harm had befallen him. there was a strain of doggedness in his nature; he had won his scholarships at school and at cambridge by sheer grit; his tutor had declared that tom smith was certainly not brilliant, but he was much better: he was sound and steady; and the same qualities that had won him successes which more brilliant men envied, came out in these novel circumstances in which he was placed. tom decided to go on. presently he came to a break in the woodland; he saw the stars overhead. he was very wary now, and waited at the edge of the clearing for a long time, peering all round, turning to listen on every side, before he crossed and entered another belt of forest beyond. again he had to struggle through darkness and dense entanglements, then suddenly he started; far ahead he thought he discerned amid the blackness the dull glow of a fire. with infinite caution he picked his way through the thinning undergrowth; the glow increased; and at length he found himself on the edge of a wide open space in the midst of which there was a camp fire, and around it the rude grass huts of the savages. he saw no one, heard no sound; all were asleep. stealthily he crept round the encampment. here and there he saw cooking-pots, and caught the faint odour of roasted flesh. had the savages any store of food, he wondered. if not, his journey was vain. the fire did not give light enough for him to see anything very clearly. at last, however, when he had almost made the circuit of the camp, he saw a man move out from one of the huts towards the fire, on which he cast some logs that lay beside it. a flame shot up. as the man returned to his hut, he put his hand into one of the cooking-pots and drew out the limb of a small animal, from which he tore the flesh with his teeth. tom was satisfied. no doubt each of the pots contained a quantity of food. surely if he brought his comrades to the spot, and they fell upon the camp suddenly, with loud cries and the noise of firearms, they might strike panic into the savages, and at least have time to possess themselves of the contents of the pots. he looked at his watch. it was past ten o'clock. he could return more quickly than he came, and, if he did not lose his way, would regain his camp within half-an-hour after midnight. there would be plenty of time for the whole party to reach the savages' encampment before the dawn rendered it dangerous. moving away slowly until he was out of earshot, he then walked as quickly as he could back through the forest. but he was not a mariner, and even a mariner would have been at fault in tracking his course by compass through dense forest. he judged his general direction accurately, but he swerved a little too far to the right, and suddenly found himself on the brink of the cliff. he dared not go back into the forest, lest he should lose more time in wandering, so he decided to keep as close to the sea as possible, thinking that he must in time arrive at his camp. his path was tortuous; once he had to strike inland to avoid a deep, wooded ravine; but presently he heard the sound of falling water, and, quickening his steps, came almost suddenly upon the barricade. the whole company were awake. they had almost given him up for lost. it was one o'clock. underhill sternly checked a cheer from the sailors, when tom ran up. he told what he had seen. "hadn't we better wait till to-morrow night?" suggested dr. smith. "to-night! to-night!" cried the men eagerly. the knowledge that food was within reach of them was too much for famishing men. who knew if they would have strength or sanity for the task after another sweltering day? underhill could not refuse them; he gave orders for the whole company to march at once. none was left to guard the camp; the little company of sixteen could not be divided. they set off in single file, tom leading the way, not because he had any hope of treading in his former course, but because he alone had traversed the forest, and he alone had a compass. the plan of lighting fires to guide them on the return journey was given up. the forest was so dense that such fires would have been of little use; further, they might cause an immense conflagration which, though it would effectually scare the enemy, would destroy what the famished men so urgently needed, food. their progress was even slower than tom's had been. they had to stop frequently to make sure that all were together, and, as ill luck would have it, tom found that he was leading them through a part of the forest where the entanglements were more intricate and less penetrable than those he had formerly encountered. but he plodded on doggedly, speaking to no one of his anxiety when a glance at his watch told how time was fleeting. if they did not reach the camp of the savages before dawn their toil and fatigue would be wasted, and their peril greater than it had ever been. here and there, where the trees grew less close together, he felt a slight breeze blowing in his face, and at length he detected a faint smell of wood smoke. he halted, and told the rest, in a whisper, that they were approaching a settlement. from this point they advanced still more slowly and cautiously. then, with a suddenness that took them aback, they came to the edge of a clearing. at first tom was not sure whether it was the same that he had seen before. he had indeed approached it from a different direction. but a glance around satisfied him on this point, and the party stood within the shelter of the trees while underhill gave his orders. they were to fire one shot, then rush forward with loud shouts, seize what food they could lay hands on, and flee back in all haste. there was no time to be lost, for the sky already gave hint of dawn. underhill had scarcely finished speaking when there was a cry from a point near at hand. they had approached the camp from the wind-yard side; the breeze had carried either some murmur of underhill's voice, low as he had spoken, or some faint scent which the natives, as keen in their perceptions as wild animals, had detected. instantly the camp was in commotion: the dusky warriors poured forth from their little huts, and swept, a wild, yelling horde, upon the weary company. chapter x some praus and a junk smith's destination, on leaving penang, was port darwin in the northern territory of australia. he had never been at that port, and knew that a few years before it had been little more than a collection of grass humpys, inhabited by chinese and malays, with an iron shed for a custom house, and a vast expanse of forest and jungle behind. but it was the principal port in the northern part of australia, and he had no doubt that at palmerston, the thriving town on the eastern shore, he would be able to obtain the necessary supply of petrol and oil. his map informed him that his course lay across the malay peninsula, dutch borneo, and the islands of celebes and timor. it was necessary to rise to a considerable height to cross the hills that run like a spine on the malay peninsula, and having passed those, he came in little over an hour to the eastern coast, about a hundred and fifty miles north of singapore. in another hour and a half he reached the coast of borneo, whence for nearly three hours he saw beneath him an almost unbroken sea of foliage, only one range of hills breaking the monotony. somewhat after midday he came to the straits of macassar, at the south-east extremity of borneo. as he crossed these, he had an unpleasant shock. the engine missed sparking once or twice when he was half-way across the straits, and he shouted to rodier to loose the life buoys in case it failed. there were several small craft beneath him, so that he had no doubt of being picked up if the aeroplane fell, unless, indeed, sharks "got in first," as he put it. but the interruption of the sparking was only temporary, and he reached the island of celebes safely. then he thought it merely prudent to descend and overhaul the engine, though he deplored the loss of time. he landed on a solitary spot where there was no likelihood of being molested, and rodier having cleaned the fouled plug that had caused the trouble, they went on again. they were sailing low over the deep bay formed by the two huge tentacles that run south and south-east from the crab-like body of the island, when suddenly, above the noise of the engine, they heard the sharp crack of a shot, then two or three more. glancing up the bay to his left, smith saw a large junk, its sails hanging limp, surrounded by a number of small craft which from their appearance he guessed to be praus. he had read many a time of the fierce malayan pirates that used to infest these seas, and was somewhat surprised to find that piracy had apparently not been wholly suppressed. as a matter of fact, european vessels no longer ran the same risks as of old, the malays having learnt by experience that sooner or later retribution was bound to overtake them; but it was a different matter with chinese junks. so long as these could be attacked successfully and secretly, with no witnesses to carry information to the outside world, there was little risk in swooping down upon them. the celestial government did not follow up piratical forays of this kind in seas distant from the empire itself; and the malays were not likely to attack unless they had a great advantage over their victim in point of numbers. a junk might be seized and its crew massacred without the slightest whisper of the event coming to civilized ears. smith saw the praus clustering round the junk like a swarm of bees. it was impossible to doubt what the result would be. he was loth to lose more time: the plight of a chinese vessel was no concern of his; yet as he glanced up and down the bay and saw that it could obtain help from no other quarter, he could not bring himself to leave the hapless chinamen to the fate that must overtake them unless he intervened. slackening speed, he cried to rodier-- "we must do something." the frenchman nodded. smith swung the aeroplane round, and descended until it was circling immediately over the junk and its assailants. cries of amazement broke from some of the malays as they caught sight of this strange portent from the sky, but the greater number were climbing up the sides of the junk, heedless of all else than the work in hand. there was something fascinating to smith in the spectacle: the almost naked malays, armed with their terrible krises, swarming on every part of the vessel; the chinamen with pikes, muskets, and stink-balls fighting with the courage of despair to keep the boarders at bay. as yet the malays had not gained a permanent footing on the deck, but for every man that was felled or hurled back into the praus there were a dozen to fill the gap, and the most valorous of fighters could not long contend against such odds. for a little while smith was perplexed as to what he could do to help them. the necessity of keeping the aeroplane in motion did not permit either rodier or himself to use his revolver effectively. without doubt the malays would be scared off if they fully realized his presence, for they could scarcely have seen an aeroplane before, and it must be to them a very terrifying object. but a malay, when drunken with hemp and his own ferocity, is as little subject to impressions of his surroundings as an infuriated bull. the men left in the praus were gazing up in terror at the humming aeroplane; but even during the few seconds of smith's hesitation the others gained the deck of the junk forward of the mast, and with fierce yells and sweeping strokes of their krises began to drive the chinamen towards the poop. in a few minutes the whole crew would be butchered and thrown to the sharks. suddenly an idea occurred to smith. he planed upwards till the aeroplane reached a height of about a hundred feet above the vessel, calling to rodier to bombard the boarders with the full bottles of soda-water which they had with them. the frenchman chuckled as he seized the notion. smith kept the aeroplane wheeling in a narrow circle over the scene of combat, and when it was vertically above the deck rodier flung down several bottles one after another among the malays. the effect was instantaneous. these novel missiles flung from so great a height, acted like miniature bombshells, exploding with a loud report as they touched the deck, and flying into myriad fragments. not even the most rage-intoxicated malay could withstand the shock. the noise, the prickly splinters of glass, peppering their half-naked bodies like a charge of small shot, altered their blind fury to dismay and panic. with screams of affright they rushed to the sides of the junk. but the men left in the praus had already begun to paddle frantically away, heedless of the fate of their comrades. these plunged overboard, and swam after the departing vessels, whose flight rodier speeded with another bottle or two. in less than a minute the junk was clear. for some minutes smith shepherded the praus toward the shore. every now and then he saw a swimmer disappear suddenly: without doubt the sharks were gathering to claim their prey. then, feeling sure that the malays were too much terrified to think of renewing their attack on the junk, he again set his face eastward towards the open sea. chapter xi australian hospitality darkness was falling when the airmen came in sight of the chain of small islands running from java eastward almost to the australian coast. knowing that these islands were very hilly, smith rose to a great height, using his flashlight every now and then to guard against mishap. if he had not known the nature of the islands he could almost have guessed it from the behaviour of the aeroplane, which now tended to shoot upwards, now to sink downwards, irrespective of any volition of his own. this proved to smith that he had come into a region of variable currents of wind, such as might be set up by the hollows and ridges of mountain tops. the forcing of the machine upwards implied that the pressure of the air ahead was increased, owing to a lull in the wind behind; the sinking implied that the force of a contrary wind was diminished, and that the inertia of the machine prevented it from readily accommodating itself to the new conditions. during this part of the voyage smith had to be constantly alert to warp the planes instantaneously when he detected the least sign of instability, and he was very glad when he saw once more the reflection of the stars in the sea beneath him, and knew that he would encounter no more obstacles between timor, which he had just passed, and port darwin. his concern now was to pick up the light which, according to the admiralty's sailing directions, shone from an iron structure a hundred and twenty feet high, about a mile south of point charles, the western extremity of port darwin. approaching the port from the west, as he was, he should have no difficulty in seeing the light at a distance of eighteen or twenty miles, the sky being clear. but as time went on neither he nor rodier caught sight of the red speck for which they were looking. half-past eight came, local time, as nearly as smith could calculate it by his watch, which still registered london time; and even allowing for the hours lost he should by now have touched land. he was beginning to feel anxious when he suddenly found land below him--a land of dense forests, apparently low and flat. the question was, whether this was the mainland of australia or an island, possibly bathurst island, north of port darwin. it was impossible to tell. there was no time to ponder or weigh possibilities; yet if he took the wrong course he might be hours in discovering his mistake, and this part of australia being almost wholly uninhabited he might fail to find any guidance even if he descended. by a rapid guess--it could not be called reasoning--he concluded that he had probably steered a too southerly course, and that he would do right if he now steered to the north-east. his indecision had lasted only a few seconds; he brought the aeroplane round until she flew over the line of breakers washing the shore, and followed the coast at full speed. within a quarter of an hour both the men caught sight at the same moment of the red glow of the light, which grew in brilliance as they approached it, and then diminished as the lamp revolved. steering now to the east, in ten minutes they were sailing over the town of palmerston, the capital of the northern territory. the lighted streets, crossing at right angles, formed a pattern below them like the diagram for the game of noughts and crosses. they found a landing place a little to the north-east of the town, beyond the railway, and having safely come to earth, smith left rodier to attend to the engine and hastened towards the nearest house, a sort of bungalow of wood and iron. sounds of singing came from within. a chinaman opened the door to his knock. smith asked if the master was at home. "massa inside allo lightee," answered the man. "me go fetchee, chop-chop." he soon returned, followed by a stalwart bearded australian of about fifty years, smoking a big pipe. "well, mate," he said, eyeing smith curiously by the light of the door lamp; "what can i do for you?" "i must apologize for troubling you on sunday night," began smith. "no trouble, i assure you. come in." he led smith into a little room near the door. "we've a few friends in the parlour," he added, "and i guess you can tell me here what you want." "well, to put it shortly, i should be very much obliged to you if you'd direct me to mr. mackinnon. he's got some petrol waiting for me, at least i hope he has, and i'm in great need of it." "well, that's real unlucky now. he went to pine creek down the line only yesterday, and won't be back till to-morrow. are you lieutenant smith, may i ask?" "yes, that's my name." "mackinnon got a cable from java on friday about the petrol. he told me about it, and mighty astonished he was. motor-cars are pretty scarce about here, and he hasn't got a great quantity of petrol. i suppose it's for a motor-boat you want it? when did you leave java?--before the cable, i guess." "i haven't come from java at all. the cable was sent through there from london. the fact is, i've come in an aeroplane." "what! over the sea?" "yes, over sea and land. i left penang early this morning, and must go on at once." "well, if i ain't just about flummuxed! d'you mean to say you've come pretty near two thousand five hundred miles to-day?" "yes; i'll tell you in a word all about it." his host, whose name was martin, listened in mute amazement as smith briefly related the occasion of his long journey. "why, man," exclaimed mr. martin, when he had concluded his story; "wonders'll never cease. you must be dead beat. i never heard the like of it. come into the other room. the boys'll be mad to hear this." "really, i'd rather not. i haven't any time to lose, and mr. mackinnon being away--" "oh, that don't matter. he didn't expect you so soon, but we'll get what you want, though it is sunday. but a bite and a sup will do you all the good in the world, and won't take you long, and the boys will just go crazy if they don't see you. why, it's round the world you're going. my sakes! come along." he almost dragged smith into a large, low room, where several men and women, boys and girls, were seated round the wall. they were singing hymns to the accompaniment of a harmonium. a table loaded with eatables was pushed into a corner. the entrance of mr. martin, followed by a dirty, unkempt, and oddly dressed stranger, caused an abrupt cessation of the singing. the girl at the harmonium sprang up with a startled look. "what is it, father?" she asked anxiously. "nothing to be scart about, my girl. neighbours, this gentleman has come all the way from london in an aeroplane." the announcement was received in dead silence. smith stood like a statue as he listened to mr. martin's hurried explanation, resigning himself to be the target of all eyes. everybody crowded about him, silent no longer, but all asking questions at once. mrs. martin went to the table and brought from it a dish of chicken patties, which she pressed upon him. "do'ee eat now," she said, in the broad accent of devonshire. "i made 'em myself, and you must be downright famished." "not quite so bad as that," said smith, with a smile, "i had a good breakfast at penang, and have nibbled some biscuits and things on the way." "biscuits are poor food for a hungry man. eat away now, do." other members of the family brought ale, cider, fruit, cakes, enough for a dozen men, and for some minutes smith's attention was divided between eating and drinking and answering the questions which poured upon him in a never-ending flood. conscious of the lapse of time, he at last said that he must go and obtain the fuel for his engine. the men rose in a body, prepared to accompany him. "i don't think we had better all go, neighbours," said mr. martin. "i'll take mr. smith to the resident; we shall have to see him about the petrol, you know." "there's one thing your friends can do for me," said smith. "i want ten or a dozen rifles, and a lot of ammunition. can you provide them at such short notice?" "i should just think we can," said mr. martin. "neighbours, get together what mr. smith wants, and take 'em out along to the aeroplane. it's just a step or two beyond the railway, from what he says. mother, send out some eatables, too, something better than biscuits, to mr. smith's man, who's looking after it. now, mr. smith, come along. the residency isn't far off: we're only a small town." the two set off, and in a few minutes arrived at the residency, a stone building of more pretensions than the wood and iron erections of which the town mostly consisted. the resident was at home. once more smith had to tell his story, once more to listen to exclamations and reply to questions, grudging every moment that kept him. the resident had heard of the wreck of the _albatross_, in which he had been particularly interested, because he had some slight acquaintance with its commander. "i heard by wire only yesterday, mr. smith, that a gunboat had been sent from brisbane to the relief of your friends. she started three days ago, and can't possibly reach the wreck until to-morrow at earliest. but surely she will be there before you?" "not if i can get off soon, and don't meet with an accident on the way. it's nearly two thousand miles from here to ysabel island, i think?" "i can't tell you within a hundred or two, but it's about that. when do you think you will get there?" "about midday to-morrow, with luck. i shall take on here enough petrol to last the whole way, if i'm not thrown out of my course or meet with mishap; but i suppose i can get a fresh supply at port moresby, if necessary?" "i very much doubt it. and what about getting back?" "i'm going on as soon as i've seen that my people are safe--if i'm not too late. i've got to rejoin my ship at a.m. on friday morning, or i run the risk of being hauled over the coals." "surely not. they will make allowances, seeing what your errand has been." "they don't make allowances easily in the navy, sir. besides, i've set my heart on being back in time." "you will return this way, then. ysabel island is this side of the degree line." "well, no, sir. having started, i mean to get round the world if i can." "you're a sportsman, i see. well, now, what will your best course be?" he opened a map. "i've planned it all, sir," said smith hurriedly. "i go on to samoa: i'm sure to find petrol there; then honolulu, san francisco, st. paul, and st. john's, all big places, where i shall be able to get all i want. now, sir, i know sunday night must be an awkward time, but, with your assistance, i daresay i can get the petrol from mr. mackinnon's store." "there is a little difficulty which we shall have to get over. we've a very strict regulation against entering at night any godown containing explosives, owing to the risk of fire. mr. mackinnon's godown will be locked up; his chinaman will have the key; and as resident i can't openly countenance a breach of the rules. we have had a great deal of trouble to enforce them, and any relaxation would have a very bad effect on the chinamen: they wouldn't understand it." "don't you worry about that, sir," said mr. martin. "leave it to me. there'll be a fine to pay to-morrow," he added, with a chuckle; "and you can make it pretty stiff as a warning to the chinese; it'll be paid on the nail, i assure you." "very well, mr. martin. i shall know nothing about it officially until you come before me to-morrow, and i'll read you a severe lecture in addition to fining you. you can come to me for a subscription afterwards. good-bye, mr. smith: good luck. i sincerely hope you'll find your friends safe and sound. give my kind regards to lieutenant underhill." smith left the residency with mr. martin, who led him to the chinese quarter of the town, a dark assemblage of small huts, pig-sties, and poultry runs. "i don't know where mackinnon's boy lives," said mr. martin. "we shall have to hunt him up." all the huts were apparently in darkness, and smith, as he walked rapidly beside his guide, thought that he preferred the smell of petrol smoke to the mingled odours that assailed his nose. at length they discovered a light amid the gloom, and hastening towards it, discovered that it proceeded from an oil-lamp within one of the huts, the door of which was open. here they saw a group of chinamen squatting on the floor, engaged in playing a game with small figures carved in bone. "hi, boys," called mr. martin; "can tell where ching-fu keeps?" "my tellee massa," cried one of the younger men, rising. "my go long that side, show wai-lo." "come on, then: chop-chop." "allo lightee, massa: my savvy." he led them through what appeared to smith an intricate maze of narrow alleys, and presently pushed open the door of a hut, and called the name of ching-fu, entering without ceremony. the englishmen heard voices raised as in altercation, and after some minutes the guide reappeared, followed by a burly compatriot, rubbing his eyes. "he catchee sleep, say what for come fetchee this time." "now, ching-fu," said mr. martin, "this gentleman wants seventy gallons of petrol, at once. mr. mackinnon got a cable about it yesterday. come and get the cans, and have them taken up to my house at once." "no can do, massa," replied the man in a shrill tone of voice, that seemed singularly unbefitting to his massive frame. "topside man catchee my inside godown this time, ch'hoy! he makee big bobbely." "never mind about that. i'll pay the fine." "no can do, no can do so-fashion. massa pay squeeze; all-same, my catchee plenty bobbely, makee my too muchee sick." "i'll take care you don't suffer. come along: there's no time to lose." "this time sunday, look-see, massa. no workee sunday, no fear; that joss-pidgin day." "i can't waste time talking." smith whispered in his ear. "yes; mr. smith will give you ten shillings for yourself if you hurry up." "ch'hoy!" cried the other man. "massa numpa one genelum; my go long too, ching-fu. no can catchee ten bob evely day." ching-fu suffered himself to be persuaded. he beat up three or four of his neighbours, and proceeded with them to the godown, the englishmen following to ensure that no time was lost. in half-an-hour the necessary supplies of petrol and lubricating oil were being wheeled up on trucks towards mr. martin's house. on the way smith noticed a number of reddish lights at irregular intervals, moving in the same direction, and there were more people in the streets than when he had come down, all hurrying one way. "by jingo!" said mr. martin, "the news has spread, and it looks uncommonly like a torchlight procession. hullo, jenkins, what's the matter?" "that you, martin?" replied the man addressed. "everybody's talking about an aeroplane that's come down somewhere near mackenzie's shed, and i'm off to see if it's true. haven't you heard about it?" "i did hear something of the sort. i'll be up there, too, by-and-by." smith was a little annoyed at the possibility of being delayed by a crowd of spectators, but there was evidently no help for it. he returned to mr. martin's house, being assured by his host that he need have no anxiety about the safe delivery of the petrol. meanwhile rodier, on smith's departure, had, as usual, set to work to clean the engine. he was tired and sleepy, and he would have been more than human if he had not thought that his employer had rather the best of the arrangement. but any private soreness he might have felt did not affect the speed or the thoroughness of his work. he first of all examined the wires: there was nothing wrong with them. then he unscrewed the plugs and laid them on top of the engine, pulled the engine over, and finding that there was a poor spark, concluded that it was rather sooty. after cleaning the parts thoroughly with petrol, he again started the engine. the sparking being still weak, he examined the magneto: it was choked with grease. the next thing was to clean the brush with petrol and try the plugs again. the spark was now strong, and after giving everything a final polish, he replaced the plugs, satisfied that the engine was in good working order. switching off the searchlight for economy's sake, and leaving only the small light that illuminated the compass, he sat down, opened a tin of sardines, and began to eat them with biscuits. a fastidious person might have objected to the mingling of flavours, olive oil and petrol not combining at all well; but rodier was too old a hand to be dainty. he was in the act of munching a mouthful when his head dropped forward on his breast, and he fell into a sound sleep. he was wakened by a voice in his ear. jumping up with a start, he beheld a crowd of people watching him, men in sunday coats, men in shirt sleeves, ladies in light dresses, boys in knickerbockers and norfolks, girls in pinafores, chinamen in coats of many colours, many of the throng holding torches and lanterns. "ah! mille diables!" he cried. "keep back! this is not a penny theatre." "nor yet a cook-shop," said one of the visitors, with a laugh; "though you might think so." and then rodier saw that the men and boys foremost in the group carried plates, dishes, bowls, bottles, jugs. one had a dish of chicken patties, another a plate of bananas, a third a bowl of devonshire junket, a fourth a loaf of bread; others had cheese, apples, bottled beer, australian wine, doughnuts, pork sausages, sponge cake, ham sandwiches; in short, all the constituents of a high tea except tea itself. "thought you might be hungry after your ride," said one. "have a sandwich?" "have a banana?" said another. "you won't get 'em like this in london." "dry work, ain't it?" said a third, pulling a cork. "that'll buck you up." "please take one of my doughnuts," piped a small boy, creeping around the right leg of a sturdy planter. "ma foi! this take the cake," cried rodier, laughing heartily. "thank you, thank you, thank you! but truly i shall be very--very discomfortable if i eat all this riches. ah; this is good, this is hospitality. my friends, i thank you, i love you; vive l'australie!" bubbling with excitement, he shook hands with this one and that; and both hands being engaged at once in this hearty mode of salutation, he would have been able to enjoy little of the good fare provided had not one of the group begun to fend off the enthusiastic visitors. "that's enough," he said; "give him breathing space. eat away, man; the junket won't keep; everything else will, and you can take with you what is left." thus, when smith arrived on the scene, he found his man surrounded by an alfresco confectioner's shop, eating, laughing, talking, and breaking forth into eloquent praise of australian hospitality. "ah, mister," he cried, as smith joined him; "this is a country! we are pigs in clover. there is here enough for a regiment of zouaves." here a diversion was caused by the arrival of mr. martin's friends with rifles and ammunition enough to equip a company of grenadiers. smith accepted a dozen rifles and two or three hundred rounds of ammunition; and these had just been placed in the car when the chinamen arrived with the petrol. he implored the torchbearers to stand back while the inflammable fluid was put on board. this was done amid a buzz of excitement, everybody talking at once. "speech! speech!" cried some one in the crowd, and smith, thinking the shortest way out of his embarrassment was to comply, stood up in the car and thanked his good friends in palmerston for the warmth of their reception, and their kindness in supplying his wants. "you will excuse me from saying more, i know," he added. "i have nearly two thousand miles still to go; my father is in great danger; and we are already several hours behind time. i can't shake hands with you all, but i shall never forget your kindness. now, if you will clear the course so that i can get a run-off, i will say 'good-bye,' and hope that some day i may come back and not be in such a hurry." his simple words were cheered to the echo. then mr. martin and three or four more pressed the throng back. the good people cheered again as the machine ran forward and sailed above them, and smith, as he looked down upon the sea of faces lit up by the flaring torches until it became a blurred spot of light, felt cheered and encouraged, and set his face hopefully towards the starlit east. chapter xii stalked by pigmies smith had noticed before leaving palmerston that the wind had risen and was blowing steadily from the north-west. he was very anxious not to miss port moresby, the principal harbour in british new guinea, for he hoped, in spite of what the resident at palmerston had said, to be able to replenish his stock of petrol there, knowing very well that among the smaller islands of the south pacific the places where petrol was kept must be very few. he determined, however, if he should fail to make port moresby, to steer straight for ysabel island. if it turned out to be impossible to obtain petrol, he would have to resign himself to the inevitable, return to australia on the gunboat that had been dispatched to relieve the castaways, and endure as philosophically as he might the consequences of overstepping his leave. his course lay across the head of the gulf of carpentaria. by daybreak, if he were able to keep up full speed through the night, he should have passed the northernmost end of the yorke peninsula, and it might then be possible to take his bearings by the group of islands in the torres straits. on leaving these islands behind him he should soon come in sight of the mountain chain running from the middle of the gulf of paqua to the south-eastern extremity of new guinea. he might expect to sight these mountains from a very great distance, and in particular, if he could distinguish mount astrolabe, the square, flat-topped mountain lying behind port moresby, he would have no further anxiety about his position. the engine was working as well as ever, and by keeping over the sea, smith was able to avoid any gusts or cross-currents of air that might be set up by irregularities in the conformation of the land. taking turns as usual with rodier at the wheel, he was able to get a few hours of sleep; about an hour and a half after daybreak he descried the strange shape of mount astrolabe towering nearly four thousand feet into the sky, and in less than a quarter of an hour afterwards he came to the coast, a little to the west, as he judged, of port moresby. the aspect of the coast was far from inviting. there were long stretches of mangrove forest lining the shore, from which unpleasant exhalations arose, affecting his sense of smell even at the height of a hundred feet. beyond rose limestone hills, very scantily wooded, with a plentiful crop of rocks and stones. there was scarcely a patch of level ground to be seen. he came almost suddenly upon the port, lying in a hollow of the hills, and for some time looked in vain for a suitable landing place. the aeroplane, circling over the harbour, was seen by the sailors on the ships and the people on the quays, and its appearance brought all work to a standstill. at length smith discovered at the north end of the little town a spot where landing was just possible if the descent was not endangered by the wind. he felt more nervous than at any other time during his voyage, and was on the alert to set the propellers working at the first sign that the wind was too strong for him. to his great relief he came safely to the ground, with no other misadventure than collision with a huge eucalyptus tree at the edge of the clearing. without loss of time he made his way down to the town, and accosting the first white man he met, asked to be directed to the residence of the administrator. "you're a stranger, i guess," said the man, who had not seen the aeroplane. "come from sydney?" "no, from port darwin." "gosh! we don't often have vessels from there. how's my friend mr. pond?" "i don't know him." "well, that's real strange. i thought everybody knew dick pond; he's lived there fifty years or more. say, what's up?" he asked of a man hurrying in the opposite direction. "it's down. didn't you see it or hear it?" "hear what?" "the aeroplane." "an aeroplane! you don't say so." "it's a fact. wonder you didn't hear it. it made a noise like a thousand humming birds, and came down not half-a-mile over yonder. some german fellow, i shouldn't wonder, from constantine or finsch. hope we're not in for trouble; i'm off to see." "so will i. go straight on, stranger; you see that constable there? well, turn down by him, and you'll come to the administrator's in about five minutes." smith had taken off his overalls, so that his appearance attracted no more than a passing glance from the sailors, clerks, merchants, and natives whom he met hurrying towards the spot where the aeroplane had descended. he found the administrator's house without difficulty. not having a card, he gave his name and rank at the door. the administrator was at breakfast with his family when lieutenant smith was announced. imagining that a war vessel had unexpectedly put in at the harbour, he rose and went to the door to greet his visitor and invite him to his table. a look of disappointment crossed his face when he saw a dirty, unshaven object before him, dressed in stained brown serge, offering no resemblance to the trim spick-and-span officer he had expected to see. "i'm sorry to trouble you, sir," said smith, "i'm in need of some petrol, and--" "i don't keep petrol," said the administrator shortly. "you've come here by mistake, no doubt. there's no petrol for sale in the port, to my knowledge." "that's awkward. i'm afraid i must go on without. the aeroplane uses--" "the aeroplane! what aeroplane?" "i've come from port darwin in my aeroplane, and am going on at once to the solomon islands. i think i can just about manage it, so i won't detain you any longer, sir." "come now, let me understand. you have come from port darwin--by aeroplane! where is it?" "about half-a-mile beyond the town, sir." "but--from port darwin--across the sea?" there was nothing for it. once more smith retailed the outline of his story, the administrator listening with growing amazement. in the midst of it a young englishman came up, out of breath with running. "good morning, sir," he panted. "an aeroplane has just come down; people say it is a german. what had we better do?" "keep our heads, i should think," said the administrator. "mr. williams--my secretary--mr. smith. the aeroplane is mr. smith's, and has come from port darwin in ten hours. just run down to the harbour, williams, and tell captain brown to send up all the petrol there is in the launch, and a few gallons of machine oil as well. be as quick as you can." the secretary opened wide eyes. "where's it to be taken, sir?" "to the aeroplane, as quickly as possible." the young man ran off, looking as though he had received a shock. "this will give us excitement for a twelve-month, mr. smith," said the administrator. "it's lucky i can help you. i have just returned from a tour of inspection, and there are a few gallons of petrol in my motor-launch: not very much, i'm afraid, but better than nothing. i'm afraid i was rather short with you just now, but you'll admit that there was some excuse for me." "don't mention it, sir." "it's the queerest thing i ever heard in my life; in fact, i'm only just beginning to believe it. come in and have some breakfast; it'll be an hour or more before they get the petrol up, and i'd like my wife and youngsters to hear about it from your own lips. you'd like a wash, eh? come along." he led the way to his bath-room, turned on the water, arranged the towels, and bidding smith come to the first room downstairs on the left when he was ready, he went off to prepare his family for the guest. smith was by this time used to the exclamations of wonder, the volleys of questions, the compliments and gusts of admiration which his story evoked. he came through the ordeal of that breakfast-table with the coolness of a veteran under fire. his hostess asked whether sailing in the air made him sea-sick; her elder son wanted to know the type of engine he favoured, the quantity of petrol it consumed per hour, and what would happen if he collided with an airship going at equal speed in the opposite direction. the younger boy asked if he might have a ride in the aeroplane; the girl begged smith to write his name in her album. the governess sat with clasped hands, gazing at him with the adoring ecstasy that she might have bestowed on a godlike visitant from another sphere. presently the administrator said-- "now get your hats on. we'll take mr. smith up in the buggy and see him off." when they reached the aeroplane they found rodier demolishing some of the good things provided by mrs. martin, the centre of an admiring crowd of curious white men and wonder-struck natives. two papuan constables were patrolling around with comical self-importance. the petrol had arrived. when it was transferred to the aeroplane the administrator insisted on drinking smith's health in a glass of mr. martin's beer, and then called for three cheers for the airmen. his daughter had brought her kodak and took a snapshot of them as they sat in their places ready to start. the natives scattered with howls of affright when the engine began sparking, the constables being easily first in the stampede, one of them pitching head first into the eucalyptus. the engine started, the men cheered, the women waved handkerchiefs, and as the aeroplane soared up and flew in the direction of the coast the whole crowd set off at a run to gain a position whence they might follow its flight with their eyes. for some time smith steered down the coast, intending to cross the owen stanley range as soon as he saw a convenient gap. after about twenty miles, however, he ran with startling suddenness into a tropical storm. it was as though he had passed from sunlight into a dark and gloomy cavern. rain fell in torrents, and he knew by the extraordinary and alarming movements of the aeroplane that the wind was blowing fiercely, and not steadily in one direction, but gustily, and as it seemed, from all points of the compass. for the first time since leaving the euphrates he was seriously perturbed. it was true that the force of the wind did not appear to be so great as it had been before his meeting with monsieur de montausé on the babylonian plain; but his situation was more perilous than then, for he was passing over hilly country, and the vertical wind-eddies were infinitely more difficult to contend with. to attempt to alight would be to court certain destruction; his only safety was to maintain as high a speed as possible, trusting to weather through. he judged by the compass that the wind was blowing mostly from the south-east, almost dead against him. fearing lest the enormous air-pressure should break the planes if he strove to fly in the teeth of the wind, he decided to swing round and run before it for a time, in the hope that it would drop by and by. as he performed this operation the aeroplane rocked violently, and he thought every moment that it must be hurled to the ground; but by making a wide circle he got round safely, and keeping the engine at full speed he retraced his course, soon seeing port moresby again, far below him to the left. he had no means of exactly determining the rate at which he was now travelling under the joint impulse of the wind and his propellers; but from the way in which the landscape was slipping past him he thought the speed could hardly be less than two hundred and twenty miles an hour. it occurred to him now to increase his altitude, with the idea of rising above the area of the disturbance. but he found that the mountains on his right hand rose higher than he had supposed. in proportion as he ascended, they seemed to rise with him. he saw their snow-clad tops stretching far away into the distance, and became conscious of a great difference in the temperature. he began to feel dizzy and short of breath, and presently his eyes were affected, and he saw everything as in a mist. when rodier shouted that he was feeling sick smith at once checked the ascent. the aneroid indicated a height of feet, and it was clear from the greater steadiness of the machine that it had risen out of the stratum of air affected by the storm. but smith's satisfaction at this was soon dashed by the discovery that there was something wrong with the engine. it missed sparking, recovered itself for a minute or two, then missed again. smith looked anxiously below him. the nearest ground was about a thousand feet beneath; on his right the mountains still rose hundreds of feet above him, blocking the way to his true course. hoping that the failure in the sparking was only temporary, smith swung the aeroplane round, in order to take advantage of this calm region of air and at least fly in the right direction. at the same time he looked out anxiously for a spot to which he might descend if the defect in the engine proved persistent. in a very few moments it was clear that to continue his flight would be no longer safe, and he prepared to glide. while he was searching for a convenient landing place the sparking ceased altogether. the whole country was rugged; below, almost wholly forest land as far as the eye could reach; above, bare rocks or scrub, and at the greatest altitude, snow. the aeroplane flew on for a little by its own momentum, and smith wasted a few painful seconds before, despairing of finding level ground, he began to descend in a long spiral. as he neared the ground, rodier's quick eye detected a little river cutting its way through the forest, and at one spot a widening of its bed, due, probably, to the action of freshets. here there was a narrow space of bare earth, the only clear spot in the landscape, and even this was surrounded with dense woodland. he pointed it out to smith. there was no room for mistake or misjudgment. smith knew that if he did not strike the exact spot the aeroplane must crash into the forest that lined both banks of the river. never before had so heavy a demand been made upon his nerve and skill. but the severe training of the navy develops coolness and judgment in critical situations; his long apprenticeship to aerial navigation enabled him to do the right thing at the right time; and, thanks to the calmness of the air in this lofty region, the machine answered perfectly to his guiding hand, and settled down upon the exact spot he had chosen, the little open stretch on the right bank of the stream, within eight or ten yards of the water. his hand was trembling like a leaf when he stepped out on to the land. the teeth of both men were chattering. "mon dieu!" cried rodier. "that was a squeak, mister. le diable de machine! it seem i do nothing at all but clean, clean, all the way from london, and yet--" "and yet down we come, 'like glistening phaethon, wanting the manage of unruly jades,'" quoted smith. "still, we're safe, and i've known men killed or lamed for life getting off a horse." "but with the horse you have the whip, with the machine you have only the rags to clean her with. ah! coquine, i should like to flog you, to give you beans." he shook his fist at the engine. smith laughed. "beans would suit a horse better, roddy," he said. "let's be thankful the breakdown didn't happen while we were in the storm. that would have been the end of us. come on, we'll soon put things to rights. this loss of time is getting very serious." they set to work to discover the cause of the failure. as they expected, the sparking plugs were completely clogged. smith took these down to the stream to give them a thorough cleaning, while rodier overhauled the other parts of the machine. when, after half-an-hour's hard work, everything appeared to be in order again, they sat down to snatch a meal, leaving the plugs to be replaced at the last moment. while thus engaged, smith scanned the surroundings with some curiosity. the stream, in cutting its way through the hillside, had hollowed it out in a gentle curve. the channel itself threaded the base of a huge natural cutting, most of which was covered with trees, only the middle part, where the torrent had laid bare a path, being comparatively clear. all around were trees large and small, tall and stunted, leafy and bare. as smith's eye travelled upward, he noticed about a hundred and fifty yards distant, almost at the top of the gorge, a small ape-like form flitting across a part of the forest that was a little thinner than the rest. "see that, roddy?" he said. rodier looked round. "what, mister?" "an ape, i fancy, perhaps an orang-outang. i know they infest the forests of the malayan archipelago, but i can't call to mind that they're natives of new guinea." "all the natives of new guinea are apes," said rodier viciously. "at port moresby they came round me like monkeys at the zoo." "there he is! do you see him?" smith's hand stole mechanically to his hip pocket, where he kept his revolver. then he smiled, remembering that the chances of stopping an orang-outang with a revolver bullet were about one in ten thousand. "i don't see him, mister." "he has disappeared. but, my word, roddy, there's another, and another--four or five; look at them, in the undergrowth yonder. i don't like this. they're savage beasts if offended, and if they attack us we shall be in rather a tight corner." he rose, keeping his eye on the spot where the ape-like forms had shown themselves for an instant, to vanish again. as his eye became accustomed to the gloomy depths of the forest, he became still more alarmed to see a number of black, apish faces at various points among the thick undergrowth surrounding the clearing. another form flitted across the thin open space in which he had seen the first. "by george! he's got a bow in his hand. they're men! this is worse still. the orang-outang is bad enough, but he avoids men, i believe, unless interfered with or alarmed. these forest savages are dead shots with their arrows, and they'll look on us as intruders. if they're as spiteful as most of their kind we shall have trouble. get your revolver ready, but we must pretend we haven't noticed them. you've got to replace those plugs; do it as quickly as you can. don't look round; i'll keep guard." he saw several of the savages pass across in the same direction as the first, and now he noticed, what had escaped him before, that they were diminutive creatures, certainly not more than four feet high. he had clearly stumbled upon a settlement of forest pigmies. from what he had read of pigmy races he knew that it required extreme patience and a great expenditure of time to win their confidence. that was out of the question now. his first impulse was to hail them, and try to make friends of them by offering some small present; but he checked himself as the thought flashed upon him that a movement on his part might startle them and provoke a discharge of their tiny arrows, which were probably poisoned. he could not doubt they had seen him long before he had seen them, and had been for some time playing the part of silent spectators, being kept at a distance, perhaps, by the aspect of the strange object which they had observed descending among them from the sky. it must be sufficiently alarming to their untutored eyes. but after a time their dread seemed to be overpowered by curiosity or hostility, and smith saw, with alarm, that the little figures were gradually drawing nearer, flitting silently as shadows from tree to tree, and hiding themselves so effectually, even when they came to closer quarters, that nothing but the flicker of a brownish form among the undergrowth, or a round black head projecting from tree or bush, betrayed their presence. "nearly done, roddy?" he asked, without turning. "pretty near." with an outward calmness that corresponded little to his inward sensations smith lit a cigarette, racking his wits for some means of keeping the pigmies at a distance without provoking a cloud of arrows or a dash in force. the half-circle was gradually becoming narrower. he fancied that their silent movements were checked when he began to smoke, and this suggested to him that an appeal to their curiosity might hold them intent or awestruck until rodier had finished his task. "how much longer, roddy?" he asked quietly. "three minutes." smith did the first thing that occurred to him. he took a letter from his pocket, tore it slowly into small pieces, and let the fragments float away on the breeze. this device appeared to be successful for a few seconds; but when the scraps of paper had disappeared or fallen to the ground the pigmies resumed their stealthy silent advance. smith had another idea. whistling the merry air of the "saucy arethusa," he took two backward steps towards the aeroplane, seized a half-empty petrol can, and strolled unconcernedly with it to the bank of the stream, which at this point formed a slowly moving pool. as he went he unscrewed the stopper, and on reaching the brink, he poured some of the petrol into the water. then taking two or three matches from his box, he struck them together, and flung them into the petrol floating on the surface. the effect of his stratagem was immediate. the spectacle of water apparently on fire was too much for the simple savages. for the first time they broke their silence, and were seen rushing up the wooded slope, uttering shrill cries of alarm. only then did smith become aware how numerous they were. the whole forest seemed to be alive with them. "done, mister," cried rodier. smith hurried back to the aeroplane, noticing as he approached several small arrows sticking upright in the ground close to it. "they shot at you when you turned your back," said rodier. "shall we fire at them?" "no; leave them alone. i think they're scared now. but it's lucky i thought of setting fire to the petrol, or they would certainly have been upon us, and there's such a crowd of them that we might have been done for. set the engine working. the noise will keep them away." with some difficulty they turned the aeroplane round to face down stream, where there was a fairly level stretch of a few yards for running off. vaulting on board, they started, and in five or six seconds the aeroplane was humming along a hundred feet above the trees. chapter xiii the rescue smith had taken no account of the time he had lost, first by the storm, then by the overhauling of the engine; but, little or much, it increased the peril of his father, and lessened his own chance of accomplishing what he had set out to do. when an engine is always running at full speed, time lost can only be made up by reducing the length of stoppages, and smith felt even this to be almost out of the question. as soon as he was once more afloat, he thought his best plan was to make for the coast again, and follow this without attempting to cross the mountains. the storm had ceased; the engine was working smoothly, and, steering south-east, smith in a few minutes found himself again in the neighbourhood of port moresby. again he ran down the coast, but when about half-way between the port and the extreme south-east corner of the island he espied a gap in the mountain chain and sped through it, almost exactly on the ten-degree line. he had to rise to a considerable height, and was for some moments troubled by the masses of snow-white cumulose clouds that lay beneath him, cutting off all view of the ground. the vast expanse of cloud lay dazzling white in the sunlight, with peaks and crags such as he imagined alpine summits must show. but though it appeared to be perfectly still, every now and then he saw small jets of mist shoot upward, like water from a geyser, and at such times the vertical currents affected the elevation of the aeroplane. he soon crossed this cloudy sea, however, and in a few hours reached the north-east coast of new guinea, and knew that nothing but an island-spangled sea separated him from his destination. about noon he came in sight of the mountains of vanguna island to the east of new georgia. ysabel island lay beyond this, running from north-west to south-east. his intention was to round cape prieto, the south-eastern extremity of it, and search the eastern shore northward. in another hour he saw russell island, a green gem in the ocean southward, and beyond this, to the south-east, the peaks of guadalcanar. another twenty minutes brought him abreast of florida island, and he was heading up the indispensable strait, with thousand ships bay and the lofty peaks at the southern end of ysabel lying on his left hand. all at once rodier descried a cloud of smoke on the horizon far up the strait. lifting his binocular, he shouted excitedly-- "it is a gunboat, mister. she flies the british flag." "we've beaten her!" cried smith. he was divided between pleasure at his success, and sorrow that the castaways were as yet unrelieved, for he could not doubt that the gunboat was the same that had been dispatched from brisbane to their assistance. before many minutes had elapsed he had overtaken the vessel. slowing down and wheeling overhead, he saw that the aeroplane was the object of wondering interest on the crowded deck. "ahoy, there! who are you?" he shouted through his megaphone. "gunboat _frobisher_, captain warren," came the reply. "who are you?" "aeroplane without a name, lieutenant smith of h.m.s. _imperturbable_, bound for ysabel island to relieve lieutenant underhill." "the dickens! that's my job! where do you hail from?" "from london, sir. i'm afraid i've beaten you by a neck." "great scott! is this the admiralty's latest?" "not official, sir; i'm here in a private capacity. my father's among the wrecked party. i'm on leave." "so it seems. when are you due back?" "on friday morning." "i'm sorry for you, then. but, goodness alive! when did you start? the wreck was only reported four days ago." "started friday morning, sir." "gammon!" "rasher to you, sir." "you haven't lost much time, at any rate. what's your speed?" "about a hundred and ninety. whereabouts was the wreck, sir?" "a hundred miles or so up the coast, according to the men of underhill's party with me." "then i'll bid you good-bye for the present. i'll tell him you're coming." "hope you'll find him alive." waving a good-bye, smith flew on at full speed. for twenty minutes he did not attempt to follow the indentations of the coast, but set a course parallel with its general trend. then, however, he steered so that, without actually tracing every curve of the shore, he was able to survey it pretty closely. by dead reckoning and the assistance of his chart he was able to check from minute to minute his approximate position. he had passed mount gaillard, and saw, some miles to the north, the remarkable saddle shape of mount mahaga. then he made a bee-line for fulakora point. rounding this, his course was to the north-west. the coast was steep and precipitous; here and there were reefs, over which the sea broke in white upward cascades, and he was at no loss to understand how even the most skilfully navigated vessel might easily come to grief. about forty miles from the extremity of the island he flew over an immense lagoon, extending for several miles between ysabel island and a series of islets and reefs lying off the shore. from this point the sea was dotted with islets so numerous that it was impossible, at his high speed, to identify them. but he recognized the deep indentation of marcella bay, confirming his observation by the conspicuous wooded islet rising some hundred feet from the sea at its northern arm. he knew that the scene of the wreck must be within a few miles of this point, and reduced his speed so that he might scan the sea for any sign of the _albatross_. for some time he flew up and down, but failed to distinguish a battered hull, a funnel, or any remnant of the vessel. it was plain that she had been entirely broken up. this was perplexing. he wondered how he was to discover the party, if they were yet alive. the island itself appeared, from his position off the shore, to be an impenetrable mass of forest. flying in a little nearer, and going dead slow, rodier presently caught sight of a square fenced enclosure within a few yards of the edge of the cliff. smith steered directly over it, descending to a height of about fifty feet, and then saw in the middle of the space a long piece of navy tarpaulin, several biscuit tins, a hammer, two or three hatchets, and other objects, which only white men could have placed there. it flashed upon him in a moment that the shipwrecked party had encamped here. but there was not a human being in sight, and he felt a stabbing conviction that he had come too late. sick at heart, he made up his mind to descend and examine the place and its surroundings more closely. there was plenty of room for the aeroplane within the enclosure. coming to the ground, he stepped, with rodier, out of the car, each carrying his revolver. now he saw, in addition to the articles before mentioned, a good number of arrows at various points, a few broken spears, a tomahawk of a rude kind. here and there, on the barricade and below it, there were dark stains. these signs only increased his anxiety, but at the same time awakened wonder. why had the party left their fort? it seemed scarcely likely that they had been overpowered in an assault, for there were no marks of a struggle within the barricade, and if the savages had succeeded in an attack they would certainly have appropriated all that they could lay hands on; even the most trivial objects would be precious to unsophisticated children of nature. rodier suggested that the castaways had been taken off by some passing vessel, and smith, catching at the hope, was beginning to accept this view, when, lifting the tarpaulin, he found beneath it the papers of the _albatross_, some notebooks filled with jottings in his father's spidery handwriting, and a few small cases that contained bits of rock, fossils, and other specimens dear to the geologist, each labelled with the name of the place where it had been found. smith was now thoroughly alarmed. he knew that his father, if he had quitted the place voluntarily, would never have left behind these fruits of his labours. yet why was the fort deserted? "ah, bah! they have gone foraging," said rodier, unwittingly hitting on the truth. "but they would never leave the place unguarded," replied smith. "the savages certainly attacked them; look at the arrows and spears. but mr. underhill would not have yielded without fighting; yet there are no dead bodies, not even the cut-up earth there would be if they had had a tussle. i can't account for it any way." "well, mister, we better look them up." "in the aeroplane, you mean?" "yes. they must be here, in this island, or not here. in the aeroplane we search all over." "it will be like looking for rabbits in bracken," said smith, pointing to the forest. "still, we must try." he sat down on a biscuit tin to think over the position and evolve a plan. a random search might be mere waste of time. starting with the assumption that the castaways were still on the island, he said to himself that they must have left the fort voluntarily, or there would certainly be signs of a struggle. that they had left no one on guard seemed to show that they were in no alarm, otherwise they would have carried their belongings with them. his father, he knew, would not abandon his note-books and specimens. was it possible that they were making reprisals on the enemy who had previously attacked them? but even in this case they would hardly have left their fort wholly undefended, unless in the heat of victory they had rushed out in headlong pursuit, a rash movement which a naval officer would hardly countenance. besides, they were but ill-provided with arms. had they been enticed forth by the savages? in that case the savages would surely have plundered the camp, unless--and now his thought and his pulse quickened--unless there had not yet been time. perhaps they had only recently left the place. then they could not be far away, and if they had yielded to allurement there might still be time to save them. he started up, and told rodier, who had begun his customary task of cleaning the engine, the conclusion to which he had come. "we will ascend at once," he said, "and scour the neighbourhood. the forest is thick, but perhaps there are clear spaces in it. let us lose no time." they dragged the aeroplane to the inner extremity of the enclosure, turned it round, and started it towards the sea. in less than a minute it was two hundred feet in the air. then smith wheeled round and steered across the camp, intending to take that as a centre, and strike out along successive radii, so that in the course of an hour or two, even at moderate speed, he would have searched a considerable extent of country in the shape of a fan. it was a question how far he should proceed in one direction, but relying on his idea that the evacuation of the camp could only recently have taken place, he resolved to content himself at first with a distance of about ten miles. having risen to a height of about three hundred feet, he found that he commanded a view of many miles of the country. far to the south were the mountains; all around was forest, broken here and there by patches of open rocky ground. beneath him the trees were so densely packed that a whole army might have been encamped among them without giving a sign of its presence. he sped in a straight line west-north-west of the fort, at a speed of between forty and fifty miles an hour; to go faster would have rendered careful exploration of the country difficult. having completed ten miles without passing over a single spot of clear ground, he flew about five miles due west, then turned the machine and steered back towards the fort along the next imaginary radius of his circle. he had arranged that rodier should scan the country to the left while he himself kept as good a look-out to the right as was possible when he had engine and compass to attend to. they had not flown far on this backward journey when rodier, who was using his binocular, shouted that he saw, on a headland far to the left, what appeared to be a native village. smith instantly steered towards it. it was the first evidence of human habitation they had as yet come across, and even at the risk of losing his bearings he must examine it. he could now afford to go at full speed, and a few minutes brought him above the village, which was a collection of rude huts perched on a steep headland overlooking the sea, and defended on its inland and less precipitous side by barriers of stakes. the noise made by the engine as the aeroplane swept down towards the village first drew all the inhabitants from their huts into the open enclosure, and then sent them scampering back with shrieks of alarm as they saw the strange object in the air. a glance sufficed to assure smith, as he wheeled round the village, that it contained no white men, unless they had been taken inside the huts, which was unlikely. without loss of time he steered as nearly as he could towards the point at which he had diverged from his settled course, and returned to the camp, pausing once to examine a small tract where the trees were somewhat thinner, allowing him to see the ground beneath. once more he started, steering now in a more westerly direction. there were several clear spaces along this radius, and smith flew over them slowly, more than once wheeling about to make sure that his eyes had missed nothing. but at these times he saw no human beings, nothing but the wild animals of the forest, huge pigs being diminished to the size of rabbits, and dingoes to the size of mice. these scurried away when they heard the noise of the engine, and smith hovered around for a time to see if the flight of the animals attracted the attention of men, but in vain. having again covered ten miles, as nearly as he could judge, he swung round to the southwest. a minute or two later he came to the largest open space he had yet seen, clear of undergrowth as well as of trees. there were no huts upon it, and at first he saw no sign of men; but all at once rodier cried that there was a ladder against one of the trees on the farther side of the clearing. flying towards it, and descending until the aeroplane was level with the tree-top, smith was amazed to see a brown woman, with a brown baby under her arm, scuttling down the ladder towards the ground. at the same time he became aware that there were ladders against many of the trees in the neighbourhood, and women and children were descending by them, showing all the marks of terror. he had come upon a collection of the curious tree-houses, sixty or seventy feet from the ground, which some of the islanders inhabit. the terrified people when they reached the ground fled into the forest. there was no man among them, which led smith to suspect that the men were either hunting for food, or were perhaps fighting with the castaways. instead of returning directly to the camp, therefore, he pursued his flight across the forest in the same direction in which the startled natives had run. now for the first time he wished that he could have had a silent engine, for then his ears might have given the information which failed his eyes. though he flew to and fro for some time in the vicinity of the tree-houses, he discovered no other break in the forest; and the impossibility of knowing what was going on beneath that vast screen of foliage began to affect him with hopelessness of success. he wished it were possible to descend in the clearing, and continue his search on the ground. the appearance of the aeroplane was so terrifying to the islanders that he need fear no opposition to his landing. but the idea occurred to him only to be at once dismissed. when once among the trees, away from the aeroplane, he would be no longer sacrosanct. those islanders who had actually witnessed his descent might fear him as a denizen of the sky; but any others that met him in the forest would not be restrained by superstitious fear from, treating him as an enemy. further, having once involved himself in the obscure and pathless depths of the forest, he might wander for hours, or even days, without finding the aeroplane. it was an impossible course of action. hopeless as he was becoming, he felt that he could do nothing better than persevere as he had begun; after all, he had as yet covered only a small wedge of the segment he had proposed to himself. but he now found himself in a difficulty. in the excitement of his recent discovery he had neglected to keep a watch upon the compass, and he was now at a loss to know the precise direction in which to steer. he must certainly go to the east, but he could not tell whether he was north or south of the camp. it occurred to him that by rising to a greater height he might probably be able to descry the camp, so he planed upwards until he attained an altitude of nearly two thousand feet, rodier searching the country seawards through his binocular. "i see it!" he cried at length, adding, as smith began to steer towards it, "wait a minute, mister; i see all the country better here; i can pick out the clearings, though they are only dark blots; but yet i can do it." he swept the country for miles around. beyond the forest, far to the west, there were stretches of rugged uplands, bare of vegetation. it was not at all likely that the englishmen had gone so far from their camp, whether willingly or unwillingly. to the east and south-east stretched the sea, and rodier declared that he saw, an immense way off, the smoke of a steamer, no doubt the gunboat. lowering the glass to scan the nearer prospect, he suddenly gave a lusty shout. "i see smoke, mister; a quite little smoke, as of a cigarette." "where?" asked smith eagerly. "south-east of us, in the forest, about five or six miles off." "we'll go and see what it comes from." smith scarcely dared to hope that the discovery of the smoke would be of any assistance to him. but it was the first indication of a camp within the forest, whether of the islanders or of his friends, and he could not neglect to investigate it. the aeroplane flew along at the speed of a swallow. in little more than three minutes it reached the twine of smoke. checking the engine, smith wheeled the aeroplane round until it passed slowly over an extensive gap in the forest. he looked down. the smoke rose from a fire in the midst of the clearing. at a little distance from it there was a throng of islanders, gazing up awe-struck at the strange apparition whose approach had been heralded from afar, and which now circled above them, making terrifying noises. but smith was not interested in the islanders. he peered among them and around for white men. he felt a shock of bitter disappointment; all the upturned faces were brown. but the movement of the aeroplane brought him to the verge of the forest, and then rodier gave a shout of delight. "there they are! there they are, mister!" he cried, pointing obliquely downwards. smith looked over. in the shade at the foot of the trees he saw a number of men bound each to a trunk. their faces, directed upwards, were too darkly shadowed for him to distinguish their race; but they were clothed. beyond doubt they were the castaways. in a moment he determined what to do. while the aeroplane circled slowly above their heads the islanders would feel no more than awe and wonder. they huddled together like a flock of sheep in a thunderstorm, probably not as yet connecting the aerial visitant with their prisoners. what was required was to scatter them, suddenly, in a way that would smite them with terror, and cause them to flee without thought of the captives helpless against the trees. smith sailed away eastward, disappearing from their sight. he had made a quick mental calculation of the extent of the clearing. rising to the height of about three hundred feet above the ground, while still out of sight he suddenly stopped the engine and warped the planes for a dive. the aeroplane descended rapidly, grazed the tops of the trees, and then, more slowly, swept, silently, in a gentle curve towards the throng of men, who were chattering about the mysterious sky visitor. when they caught sight of it they were struck dumb, and for a few moments seemed to be fixed to the ground with amazement. then, as it came directly towards them, and smith set the noisy propellers in motion, they uttered shrieks of dismay and terror, and fled like hares into the forest. some of them started too late. smith, being now near the ground, set the engine going at low speed, overtook a group of the islanders before they reached shelter, and with a touch of the aeroplane flung them violently on their faces. he then wheeled round, and rose once more into the air in order to effect a complete descent. the prostrate natives lay for some time in a paralysis of fear; but finding that they were unhurt, and that the monster had withdrawn from them, they picked themselves up, and ran to overtake their friends, leaving the space clear. in another minute smith had brought the aeroplane safely to the ground. rodier and he sprang out and ran towards the bound figures. "it's charley!" called a voice, in tones wherein surprise and joy were blended. and then the sailormen, famished and feeble as they were, broke forth in hoarse cheers and incoherent shouts, which died away in sobs. chapter xiv sir matthew improves the occasion to cut the bonds of the prisoners was the work of only a few moments. the sailors, the instant they were free, made a rush upon the villagers' cooking-pots, their passion for food overcoming curiosity, gratitude, and all other sentiments. dr. smith gripped his son's hand, his emotion being too great for words. tom slapped his brother on the back. lieutenant underhill was divided between his eagerness to learn all the circumstances of this strange intervention and his anxiety to prevent his men from getting out of hand. but a glance at them as they made free with the natives' provisions relieved him on this score, and when smith explained that he had on board the aeroplane certain delectables in the shape of chicken patties (becoming rather stale), doughnuts, plumcake, a bottle of australian burgundy, and sundry other remnants of the provisions furnished by the hospitable folk of palmerston, he voted an immediate adjournment for lunch, and the officers, with the smiths, were soon satisfying their clamant hunger. "how in the world did you know about us?" asked tom. "by cable from brisbane." "then our boat did not go down?" said underhill. "no; your men lost their sail and rudder, and drifted until they came into the current along the south coast of new guinea. they were picked up by a barque bound for brisbane, and carried there." he gave them a rapid summary of his flight across the world. the sudden change in their fortunes induced a readiness to find amusement in the most trifling incident, and they laughed loud and long as he retailed the little mishaps and the comic episodes of his journey. then underhill in his turn related all that had happened since the wreck, and all became grave again as he told of the capture in the early morning after their night march, the wild orgy in which their captors had indulged, the elaborate preparations they had made under the direction of their sorcerer for the sacrificial rite to which their captives were destined. but for the appearance of the aeroplane he had no doubt that within a few short hours they would have been massacred, and their skulls hung up at the entrance of the huts as signal marks of the villagers' prowess. "the poor wretches hate all white men," said underhill, "and it can hardly be wondered at. they are recruited to labour in our plantations, and come back with ailments unknown to them until they met the white man. they do not distinguish, and a geologist like dr. smith--" "ah!" said the doctor anxiously; "my specimens!" "they are safe, father," replied charley. "i saw them in your fort. the fact that the place had not been looted gave me some hope that you were still alive. i wonder that the islanders have not made hay of everything." "no doubt they deferred the performance until they had disposed of us," said underhill. "but now, how do we stand? you have saved us, but you can't take us all off in your aeroplane." "a gunboat is on her way here; i passed her; she will arrive soon." "hurray!" shouted the men. "your men are on her, mr. underhill," continued smith. "she will probably arrive by the time we get back to the fort." "that is a difficulty. we must be at least seven or eight miles from it, and the whole country is forest in which the natives may waylay us. they have left our rifles, but practically all our ammunition is gone." "i have rifles and ammunition, as you see. but the savages have had such a fright that i think they will keep out of the way of the aeroplane. if i fly as low as possible over the trees they will hear the humming and run away, and you can steer your course by the same sound." "a good idea. we'll burn their huts and weapons, as a warning to behave better in future, and then we'll go." this was done, smith and rodier appropriating as trophies several spears and bows and arrows, and also some of the fetish charms hung at the entrance to the huts. the crew, having satisfied their hunger, hunted through the village for loot, and grumbled when they found nothing that they considered worthy the consideration of british sailormen. then rodier took the aeroplane aloft, smith having decided to walk with the rest, and the party set off towards the coast, marching by the guidance of the sound that descended from the tree-tops, dulled by its passage through thick layers of foliage. the scare had proved effectual. never a sign of the natives was seen during the three hours' march to the fort. when they reached it, dr. smith hastened at once to assure himself that his specimens and note-books were safe. tired out, the whole party lay down to rest. "we'll go and meet the gunboat, roddy," said smith, when the aeroplane alighted. "captain warren will be glad to hear that all is well." they set off, flew down the coast, and in a few minutes descried the gunboat, apparently about fifteen miles off. "all well, sir," shouted smith, as he met the vessel. "i'll pilot you to the place." "you have put my nose out of joint," replied the captain, "and done my men out of a fight, too. well, i'm glad underhill is safe. how far have we to go?" "an hour will do it, sir. i'll keep you company; a jog-trot will be a pleasant change after my scamper." "diable, mister," said rodier; "that will waste an immense quantity of petrol, and we have none to spare." "you're right, roddy. i daresay we have used in the last few hours enough to carry us to samoa." he explained to captain warren the necessity he was under of economizing fuel, and promised to fire a rifle as a guide to him when the gunboat came abreast of the fort. then he returned at full speed, brought the aeroplane to the ground within the enclosure, and having arranged with his brother to give the signal when the gunboat came in sight, lay down beside rodier and was fast asleep in an instant. he was wakened by a roar of cheering when captain warren, with some of his men, the four members of the crew of the _albatross_, and a corpulent little civilian about fifty years old, marched into the camp, bringing a load of provisions. a huge bonfire was kindled in the centre of the enclosure, and round it the whole company gathered to enjoy a royal feast. darkness had sunk over the land; the flames cast ruddy reflections upon their features; and no one observing their cheerful expression, or listening to their merry chat, would have suspected that, a few hours before, half of the party had been face to face with a terrible death. smith was the hero of the day. lieutenant underhill got up and proposed his health; the toast was drunk in wine, beer, and water, and some wild dogs that had been allured from the forest by the glare fled howling when the mariners raised their lusty voices to the tune of "for he's a jolly good fellow." nor was rodier forgotten. tom smith called for the honours for him also; he was acclaimed in shouts of "good old frenchie!" "well done, matey," and sundry other boisterous tokens of applause. nothing would content the party but that smith should tell the story of his flight. they listened spell-bound as he related his experiences at the various stopping-places, and his adventures at sea. when the story was finished, the cheers broke out again, and the stout little man who accompanied captain warren's party, and whose spectacles gleamed with good humour, rose to his feet and cleared his throat. "pray, gentlemen, silence for sir matthew menhinick," said captain warren, with twinkling eyes. sir matthew was an ex-prime minister of queensland, known to his intimates as merry matt, and to the whole continent as a jolly good fellow. being at brisbane when the news of the wreck came, he instantly decided to join captain warren's rescue party. if he had a weakness for hearing his own voice, what could be expected in a man whose speeches filled volumes of legislative reports, but who was now in his retirement, deprived of these daily opportunities of addressing his fellow men? "gentlemen," he said, beaming on the company; "officers and gentlemen, and able seamen of his majesty's navy, i am a plain, blunt chap, i am, as you all know, and i can't dress up what i've got to say in fine language like the governor-general, but i can't let this occasion pass without saying a word or two about the great, the wonderful, the stupendous achievement of our friend, mr. thesiger smith. (loud cheers.) this is a proud moment in my life. i remember when i was a nipper in london, before any of you were born except our friend the doctor, i saw in a place called cremorne gardens a silly fellow of a frenchman--present company excepted--try to fly with wings strapped to his arms. of course he came a cropper and broke his back. i remember my dear old mother shaking her head and telling over to me that fine bit of poetry: cows and horses walk on four legs, little children walk on two legs; fishes swim in water clear, birds fly high into the air; and impressing on me that boys mustn't be little beasts, nor try to be fishes, or birds, or anything else they wasn't meant to be. but now, gentlemen, in this wonderful twentieth century, them old doctrines are as dead as queen anne. we've got submarines diving and roving along in the depths of the sea; we've got aeroplanes that fly up into the air; and we've got men, gentlemen, men of grit and backbone, men of courage and determination, that 'fear no foe in shining armour,' men like our friend mr. smith (roars of applause), who brave the perils of the deep and the chance of the empyrean, who take their lives in their hands and think nothing of it. some croakers will tell you the old country is going to the dogs. don't you believe it. ("we won't.") i don't believe she ever will go to the dogs while she's got left a man of the old, honourable, and respected name of smith. (laughter and cheers.) "mr. underhill just now referred in feeling terms to the personal results of mr. smith's enterprise. but for him, some of our number would by this time have crossed the bourne whence no traveller returns. i need not speak of the joy and pride that must have filled a father's and a brother's breast--" (here the speaker blew his nose and wiped a mist from his spectacles. then he resumed.) "as i was saying, our friend has accomplished a wonderful feat, gentlemen. he has come twelve thousand miles in three days and a half. that's a thing to be proud of. he tells me he's going to get back in another three days and a half. i am sure i speak for you all when i say 'good luck to him!' ("hear! hear!") think what it means, gentlemen. it means going round the world in a week. when i was last in england i met a man at a hotel who kept me up till three in the morning proving to me that the earth is flat. i'll give mr. smith his address, and when he gets home he can go and prove to him that _he's_ a flat. (laughter.) you remember in a play of shakespeare there's a little chap that says he'll put a girdle round the earth in forty minutes. his name was puck, gentlemen. mr. smith won't do it quite so quick--not this journey, at any rate--but who knows what these young scientific fellows will be a-doing of next? mr. smith's aeroplane hasn't got a name, i believe, but he'd better christen it puck, which is the same as the indian word _pukka_, and means 'jolly good.'" "now i'm not going to make a speech, so i'll just conclude these few remarks by wishing mr. smith a safe journey home, quick promotion, and a seat in the house of lords. he's used to going up, and that's about as far up as he can go." when the cheering had ceased, the company crowded about the aeroplane, and gazed at it as if by sheer hard staring they might discover the secret of its speed. while rodier explained its working to some of them, smith sat with the officers, his father and brother, and sir matthew, discussing the immediate future. "you must be very tired," said his father. "don't you think you have better give up the idea of returning at once, and come with us? the admiralty will stretch a point if we cable an explanation." "on no account, father," replied smith. "i am going back. i had the good luck to get here in time. that's all right so far. but after coming through the air i couldn't stand a slow voyage back; it would be like riding in a growler after a taxi. besides, i confess i am out to make a record. i can't make a name in geology, but why shouldn't i go down to posterity as the first man to fly round the world?" "in seven days, as sir matthew remarked," added tom. "it will be rather a feather in your cap, old fellow, if you can do it." "oh, i'll do it, if only my engine holds out. by the way, roddy ought to be cleaning up in preparation for starting. i hope he won't be demoralized by this ovation. roddy," he called, "it's time to clean up." "all right, mister," replied the french man. "i'll take the shine out of her." "roddy's english is not perfectly accurate," said smith, laughing; "but he's exactness itself in his work." he pulled out his watch. "it's exactly eighty-one hours since i left london; i've got eighty-seven to get back in." "how will you go?" asked underhill. "first to samoa, then honolulu, then 'frisco, and straight across the states." "you'll have to beware of interviewers," said tom. "you may be sure the newspaper men have got wind of you by this time." "i don't know. barracombe wouldn't say anything; i don't think johnson in constantinople would, and--" "my dear fellow, don't make any mistake," said captain warren. "nobody ever does say anything, but the newspaper men somehow or other know what you think about when you're abed and asleep." "they must all be irishmen, then." "or americans. i wouldn't mind betting that they are getting up a reception for you at 'frisco--" "but they don't know i'm going there." "no matter; the word has gone out to keep a watch for you, and every town in the states will be on the _qui vive_. i'm rather sorry for you when you come down for petrol; you won't get off so easily as you did on the way out." "of course you won't," said tom. "i suppose you'll wire ahead for petrol to be held ready for you? that will give you away." "no, i shall chance it. i can get petrol in any town in the states, and i won't risk delay by announcing myself." "you had better have a good sleep before you start," said underhill. "what time do you want to go?" "not later than midnight." "well, you've got nearly four hours. your man had better sleep, too. i'll see to the engine." "roddy won't allow that. i see that he has got help. he'll be finished in half-an-hour. by all means put him to bed then, if you'll promise to wake us both in good time." "i'll do that. i won't spoil sport. go to the further end of the camp, and i'll tuck you up in the tarpaulin, put some food on board, and see that everything is shipshape." smith was glad enough to avail himself of the opportunity of three or four hours' continuous sleep on land. rodier showed more reluctance, declaring that he was as fit as a fiddle; but captain warren bore him away from the crowd of admirers, and stood over him until he, like his master, was sleeping soundly. a quarter of an hour before midnight the two airmen were awakened. farewells were said, hands were shaken all round, every one wish them good luck, and precisely at twelve they took their seats and set forth on the two thousand miles flight to samoa. chapter xv herr schwankmacher's cabbages a little before twelve on monday, herr rudolph schwankmacher, one of the most respected residents of apia, capital of samoa, was reclining under the shade of a plantain in his garden beyond the promontory of mulinuu, enjoying the conversation of a friend and the refreshing bitterness of a bottle of light lager beer. the garden rose a few feet above the level of the ground in front of it, and afforded an excellent view over the sea. hither herr schwankmacher was wont to retire for a brief spell of rest and meditation in the heat of the day, and on this occasion he had been accompanied by a compatriot newly arrived from germany, to whom he was expatiating on the pleasures of colonial life in general, and in particular on the delights of rearing cabbages in so rich and prolific a soil. "yes," he said, "you will find no cabbages like these in germany. you see them. they are grown from seed. it is not a month since i put the seed in the ground, and the plants are already flourishing. they will soon be full-grown, and then i shall pickle them, and have for every day in the year a dish that will remind me as i eat it of the days of my youth in the dear homeland. ach! the homeland; it is very dear. i love it, although i would not return to it for the world. this is the happy land, my friend. it is a fairland. it is a beautiful land for copra, flowers, and cabbages. i am content." he tossed off a glass of beer and lay back on the green sward, puffing at a pipe and gazing benignly up into the broad-leaved canopy that sheltered him from the midday sun. for some time he reclined thus, dropping a word now and then to his companion, answering his questions, but always returning to the cabbages. as they lay in this placidity and ease they were suddenly aware of a slight buzzing in the air. herr schwankmacher raised himself on his elbow, and looked around for the insect that had dared to intrude into this peaceful cabbage-patch. there was no insect in sight of such a size as to account for the deep-toned hum, which was growing louder moment by moment. "this is strange," he said. "i never heard such a noise before." "i have heard it," said his friend. "i have heard it very close. the last time was when count zeppelin's airship came down in the teutoberger wald. i was there." "so; but count zeppelin would not be here in samoa. we have no airships here. the newspapers say that there is much activity in europe, especially among the french and english, in this new pastime, but i dare say the greater part of what they say is lies. but really, the noise is becoming very great; i am unable to explain it." both men were now sitting erect, looking to right, to left, seawards, landwards, towards the hills. all at once the sound ceased, a shadow was cast upon them, and before they could realize the situation a strange, uncouth object glided from behind them over the plantains, and came to rest in the centre of the cabbage-patch. herr schwankmacher sprang to his feet with a nimbleness surprising in a man of his size, and rushed forward, snorting with rage and indignation. his friend followed, neither indignant nor enraged, but very much interested in the occurrence. his intelligent eyes gleamed behind his glasses; he had himself experienced aerial adventures. it chanced that rodier was the first to step out of the machine. as the burly, bearded, white-clad figure of herr schwankmacher cantered heavily toward him, he lifted his cap, and with that sunny smile which had accompanied him through life, he said-- "monsieur, je vous fais mille excuses. voudriez-vou bien me dire ou l'on puisse obtenir de la pétrole." "sapperment!" cried the infuriated german. "es ist ein kriechender franzose!" it was well that rodier did not understand him, or, never having been called a sneaking frenchman before, he would certainly have fallen tooth and nail on the offender, though in respect of bulk the german would have made two of him. fortunately for the keeping of peace, he was quite ignorant of the german tongue, and when herr schwankmacher proceeded to shake his pipe at him, and deliver his opinion of trespassers in general and french trespassers in particular, with intermittent allusions to cabbages, rodier only listened with the same gentle smile and deprecating movements of his grimy hands. smith, joining him, addressed herr schwankmacher in english, but his intervention seemed only to add fuel to the flames. the german knew no english; neither smith nor rodier knew german; and the affair promised to come to a deadlock. but here a peacemaker stepped in. herr schwankmacher's friend, who appeared to be greatly amused, stepped forward with a noticeable limp. "gentlemen, gentlemen, zis is not business. permit me, sir," he said to smith. he took herr schwankmacher by the arm, and spoke a few words to him; upon which the german consented to be silent and in dudgeon resumed his pipe. "my friend, sir," the second man went on, "is vat you call chippy because you come plomp into his bed of cabbage, very fine vegetable, vich remind him of his youthful days in ze ever-to-beloved homeland." "oh, well," said smith, "assure him that i am very sorry. i didn't mean to hurt his cabbages, and i'll pay for any damage that i've done." "was sagt er?" said herr schwankmacher suspiciously. his friend translated smith's words. schwankmacher grunted. "the fact is," continued smith, "we've run short of petrol, and i had to come down. i hoped to make apia; that is it, yonder, i suppose?" "zat is so. you vant petrol. zen i introduce you to excellent firma vat supply ze commandant. it is good petrol; i know it, for ze firma receive large consignments of it from ze highly respectable firma i haf ze honour to represent--schlagintwert gesellschaft of düsseldorf. sir, viz compliments." he took from a capacious pocket a bulky book in a red paper wrapper. "zis is our price list, sir, revise and correct. ve can supply anyzink vatefer, and i shall esteem it great favour to haf ze opportunity to quote for petrol, machine oil, planes, stays, plugs, propellers, levers, air-bags, goggles, overalls, accumulators--" "thanks, but at present i want nothing but petrol and machine oil, and i must have them at once, as i have to start for honolulu without delay." "for honolulu, sir?" "yes." "across ze sea?" "there's no other way, is there?" "sree sousand miles?" "rather less, isn't it?" "ach! zis knocks me into a--vat you call it?--into a billycock." he turned to herr schwankmacher, who had just refilled his pipe, and repeated to him the astounding announcement. the german scoffed. seeing that there was no help for it if he wished to get away in a reasonable time, smith explained that he was halfway on a voyage round the world, and had not a minute to spare. "ach! business are business. zat is vat take me round ze world. permit me, sir." he handed smith a large business card, inscribed with the name "hildebrand schwab," and the address of his firm in düsseldorf. "ve shall lose no time, sir," he added. "zis is ze most amazing zink zat efer haf i heard, and i esteem it great honour to haf ze opportunity to introduce you to ze excellent firma vat supply you viz petrol for your so vonderful machine. vun minute until i tell herr schwankmacher, zen ve go doublequick." herr schwankmacher's vexation and incredulity vanished together when his friend told him the facts of the case. he was a good fellow at bottom, and now that he knew that the aeroplane's descent in his garden was purely accidental, he was ready to do all in his power to speed the parting guest. in a few minutes smith was hurrying along the shore road with a german on either side, at his left the surf roaring on the fringe of coral reef, at his right a screen of tufted palms and plantations running up the lower slopes of the mountains. he soon came to a collection of drinking-bars and stores, all bearing german names. herr schwankmacher, now transformed into a cordial host, invited him to drink a bottle of lager with him at one of the bars, but he excused himself and followed schwab into a large store where every sort of requisite for machines was kept in stock. the purchase of petrol proved to be a lengthy transaction, for schwab was impelled to tell the story to the store-keeper, he repeated it to his clerks, they ran out to tell the neighbours, and the place was soon thronged with germans--merchants, clerks, sailors, stokers--all eager to see the airman who was flying round the world. the store was filled with smoke and gutturals. the purchase being at last concluded, the cans were rolled to a motor lorry which lumbered along in the direction of mulinuu like a triumphal car at the head of a procession. first came smith with schwankmacher on his right and schwab on his left; then a crowd of the german population, in which wealthy merchants found themselves neighbours to grimy stokers, and youthful clerks to the inevitable uniforms; the tail was formed of swarthy samoans, men and women, skipping boys and laughing girls with flowers in their hair. rodier had cleaned the engine, and was eating his dinner among the cabbages. he favoured the crowd with a pleasant smile, although some were germans, and because others were pretty. the petrol was placed on board and the tank filled, smith, with long-suffering patience, replying to the questions of the english-speaking spectators. all was at last ready for the start; schwab, who alone of the company had knowledge of the conditions, made himself useful in clearing the course; and schwankmacher positively declined to accept payment for the plants which had been crushed under the aeroplane, and those which were trampled by the spectators' feet. when the airmen were in their places, schwab limped up. "permit me to shake hands viz ze first circumnavigator of ze sky," he said with effusion, "and to remind you zat my firma schlagintwert vill be most happy to supply you viz anyzink vatefer zat you need, and in vatefer region of ze globe you may be, on receipt of postcard, telegram, cable, or marconigram. hoch!" his cheer was taken up by the crowd. the machine moved forward. herr schwankmacher, stepping back, fell into the arms of a grinning stoker, and a little native boy, shrieking with fright, ran head-first into the corpulent frame of a merchant who was more stable in his copra business than in his legs. the aeroplane flew up; the crowd watched its ascension like adoring worshippers of some sky deity; and in three minutes it was a mere speck in the cloudless blue. chapter xvi a stop-press message mr. john mcmurtrie, editor of the _toronto sphere_, a capable journalist and a man of many friends, strolled into his office about three o'clock one wednesday afternoon. his first extra edition was due at four, and it may seem that he had allowed himself a very short time for dealing with fresh items of news that had come to hand since noon; but he had an excellent assistant, who took a real interest in his work, so that there was no need for the editor to hurry his luncheon or the ensuing cigar. "well, daniels," he said genially, as he entered his assistant's room. he sat across a corner of the table, exhibiting a well-developed calf neatly covered with golfing hose. "is there anything fresh and frothy on the tape?" "not much. a wire from 'frisco about those flying men." "you don't say so?" "here it is." he handed the slip to his chief, who ran his eye over the message. the words employed were few, but a journalist of mcmurtrie's experience instinctively covered the bare bones with a respectable integument, and clothed this with a quite picturesque raiment by force of the more ornamental parts of speech. the substance of what he read was as follows: a cable message had reached san francisco from honolulu in the afternoon of the previous day, announcing that an aeroplane had alighted there about three o'clock that morning, the owner, a lieutenant thistleton (so it was corrupted) smith declaring that he had come from samoa in sixteen hours, and was proceeding to san francisco. he had left three hours later, having waited only to take in a stock of petrol. on receipt of this message the editor of every newspaper in the city had arranged for a relay of reporters to be up all night and watch for the arrival of this extraordinary machine. shortly after midnight the hum of the propellers was heard over golden gate, and a light in the sky indicating the course of the aeroplane, a dozen journalists, in motor-cars, rushed after it, but were hopelessly out-distanced. they discovered it on the outskirts of the city. the airmen had already landed. the reporter who was first in the race seized upon lieutenant smith, and learning that he had only alighted to obtain more petrol, rushed him back to the city in his car. his comrades and competitors, on arriving, sought to interview the second man, whose name they had not been able to ascertain; but he was very uncommunicative, being occupied in cleaning the engine. lieutenant smith was back with petrol in twenty minutes; in half-an-hour he was again on his way. this extreme haste caused great disappointment to the airmen and civic dignitaries of the city, they having risen from their beds on hearing of his arrival to honour lieutenant smith with a reception. when they reached the spot where he had descended, he had been gone some ten minutes. in the race to meet him, one of the motor-cars collided with an electric-light standard and was overturned, its occupant, mr. aeneas t. muckleridge, being carried to hospital in a critical condition. several san francisco newspapers had published interviews with lieutenant smith, one of them ten columns long. mr. mcmurtrie chuckled as he read this dispatch in the shorthand of the news agency. "bedad, 'tis worth a special editorial, daniels. but why didn't we get it before, man? it ought to have been in time for the morning papers." "you remember, sir, there's been something wrong with the line to-day through the storm." "so there has, indeed. well, take out that stuff about the new british tariff, and send davis in to me." he went into his room, sat back in his chair, pushed up his golfing cap, and smiled as he meditated the periods of his editorial. in a few moments a thin, ragged-headed youth entered with an air of haste and terror. he carried a paper-block, which he set on his knee, looking anxiously at the editor. mr. mcmurtrie began to dictate, the stenographer's pencil flying over the paper as he sought to overtake the rapid utterance of his chief. the article, as it appeared on the second page of the _sphere_ an hour later, ran as follows: hocus pocus a hoax, or as our merry ancestors would have called it, a flam, is usually the most ephemeral and evanescent of human devices. like a boy's soap bubble, it glitters for a brief moment in iridescent rotundity, then ceases to be even a film of air. it is unsubstantial as the tail of halley's comet. on rare occasions, it is true, its existence is prolonged; many worthy people are beguiled; and some enthusiasts are so effectually hoodwinked as to persist in their delusion, and even to form societies for its propagation. but mankind at large is sufficiently sane to avoid a fall into this abyss of the absurd, and, having paid its tribute of laughter, goes its way without being a cent the worse. san francisco appears to be the latest victim of the great aviation hoax, and we shall watch the progressive stages of its disillusionment with sympathetic interest, or the development of its newest cult with sincere commiseration. like many other phenomena, good and bad, this gigantic flam, it will be remembered, took its rise in the east. its genesis was reported in constantinople nearly a week ago: then at intervals we learnt that these mysterious airmen, one of whom with artful artlessness had adopted the plain, respectable, and specious name of smith, had manifested themselves at karachi, penang, and port darwin successively. the curtain then dropped, and the world waited with suspense for the opening of the next act, though there were some who suspected that the performers had slipped away with the cash-box during the interval, and would never be heard of again. however, the curtain has at last rung up at the golden city of the west, and it is certainly a mark of the ingenuity of the concocters of the hoax that they allowed at least twenty-four hours for the passage of the pacific. in another column we give an account of a visit to san francisco, in the small hours of this morning, from which it will be seen that the city fathers narrowly escaped making themselves ridiculous, the flying men having wisely disappeared before the municipal deputation, hastily summoned from their beds, had time to make the indispensable changes in their attire. it need scarcely be hinted that there are many accomplished aviators in san francisco who would take a jovial pleasure in lending themselves to this amusing hoax, if only for the chance of seeing their most reverend seniors in pyjamas. a glance at the itinerary of the alleged world tourists, coupled with a comparison of dates, will show how impossible it is for them to have covered the stages of their tour in the time claimed. indeed, it is almost an insult to our readers' intelligence even to suggest this comparison. the record put up by blakeney in his new york-chicago flight was miles per hour for six consecutive hours. if the flying men who are now asserted to have touched at san francisco are the same as were reported by the constantinople correspondent of the london _times_ on friday last, a simple calculation will show that they must have flown for many days at a time at twice blakeney's speed, with the briefest intervals for food and rest. it is not yet claimed that the alleged smith and his anonymous companion have discovered a means of dispensing with sleep, or that they are content, like the fabulous chameleon, to live on air. our children may live to witness such developments in the science of aviation as may render possible an aerial journey of this length and celerity; but so sudden an augmentation of the speed and endurance of the aeroplane, to say nothing of the more delicate mechanism of the human frame, demands a more authentic confirmation of the midnight impressions of the san francisco journalists than has yet come to hand. in short, we do not believe a word of it, and our speculation at the moment is, what brand of soap or tinned meat, what new machine oil, or panacea for human ills, these ingeniously arranged manifestations are intended to boom. "what do you think of that, davis?" asked mr. mcmurtrie at the end of six minutes' rapid dictation. it was his pardonable weakness to claim the admiration of his subordinates. "bully, sir," replied the shorthand-writer timidly. as a matter of fact, he thought nothing at all, his whole attention having been so completely absorbed by his task of making dots and curves and dashes as to leave no portion of his brain available for receiving mental impressions. but the editor was satisfied. telling the youth to transcribe his notes and send the flimsies page by page as completed to the printer, he took up his golf sticks, passed through the outer office, instructing his assistant to read the proof, and departed to his recreation. there is an excellent golf course on the scarborough bluffs, the rugged, seamed, and fissured cliffs that form the northern shore of lake ontario, near toronto. boarding a trolley-car, mr. mcmurtrie soon reached the club-house, where he found his friend harry cleave already awaiting him. "hullo, mac. day's work done?" was mr. cleave's salutation. "indeed it is. the best day's work i have done for a good while." "then you are pitching into somebody or something, that's certain. what is it this time?" "bubbles, my boy. those flying-men are after spinning again. some of the 'frisco men will have a pain within side of 'em when they read how i have touched 'em up. now then, cleave, we've got the course to ourselves. i'm sure i can give you half a stroke and a beating. 'tis your honour." the consciousness of having touched up the 'frisco men seemed to have a salutary influence on mr. mcmurtrie's play. he was in the top of form, won the first two holes, and was in the act of lifting his club to drive off from the tee of number three, when a faint buzzing sound from the direction of the lake caused him to suspend the stroke and glance over the placid blue water. far away in the sky he saw a dark speck about the size of a swallow, which, however, grew with extraordinary rapidity, and in a few moments declared itself to be an aeroplane containing two men. "be jabers!" quoth mr. mcmurtrie, resting his club on the ground and watching the flying machine with eyes in which might have been discerned a shade of misgiving. it was, perhaps, thirty seconds from the time when he first caught sight of it that the aeroplane came perpendicularly above his head, the whirring ceased, and the machine descended with graceful swoop upon the well-cropt turf within fifty yards of the spot where the two golfers stood. as soon as it alighted, mr. mcmurtrie handed his sticks to the caddie, and, as one released from a spell, hurried to meet the man who had just stepped out of the car. "that's toronto over yonder?" said smith without ceremony. "indeed it is," replied mcmurtrie, taking stock of the dirty dishevelled figure. "your name's not smith?" "indeed it is!" "holy moses!" ejaculated mcmurtrie, and, to smith's amazement, he turned his back and sprinted at the speed of a race-horse towards the club-house a few hundred yards away. he rushed to the telephone box, rang up his office, and, catching at his breath, waited with feverish eagerness for the answer to his call. "you there, daniels? i'm mcmurtrie. for any sake stop press, cancel that leader, put back the tariff, votes for women, anything, only stop it.... what!... edition off the machine!... don't let a copy leave the office.... what!... first deliveries made!... recall 'em, or the paper's ruined. smith's here!... no, this-something smith ... no, you ass, the naval lieutenant, he flying man: don't you understand!... understand!... are you there?... get out a special edition at once.... where's davis? bring him to the 'phone to take a note.... that you, davis? take this down.... 'as we go to press we have the best of evidence for the statement that the marvellous world-flight of that intrepid young airman, lieutenant thistledown smith, of the british navy, is a sober fact, and not, as our sceptical wiseacres have asserted, an ingeniously concocted hoax. lieutenant smith descended at : this afternoon on the scarborough bluffs, having accomplished the enormous distance from san francisco without a stop, in the marvellous time of twelve hours, twenty-one minutes, and fourteen seconds. in our final edition, which will be accelerated, we shall publish an interview with lieutenant smith, with exclusive particulars of his remarkable voyage and his romantic career." "i'm not so sure of that," said smith dryly. he had entered with mr. cleave, and heard the frenzied editor's concluding sentences. "to begin with, i stopped at st. paul, and was lucky enough to escape without attracting any attention. i shouldn't have been here but for the storm." "for goodness' sake, lieutenant, don't tell anybody that. a little stop at st. paul isn't worth making a fuss about. you'll come along into the city with me, and we will get a few of the boys together and give you a topping dinner." "i'd rather be hanged," said smith. "the fact is, i only came down to get enough petrol on board to take me across the atlantic. you can tell me where to get what i want?" "indeed i can. i tell you what. i'll 'phone for the petrol--how much do you want?--and get it out here in no time. you won't mind me ringing up a few particular friends, and inviting them out to see you?" "please don't do anything of the kind. i'm very tired; i'm not presentable; and i've no time to spare." "sure you wouldn't be after declining to answer a question or two--to be worked up into an interview, you know?" "really, i've nothing to tell. you appear to know a good deal about me already, and i'm sure your imagination can supply the rest." "but there's a gap, lieutenant. we can't account for you between port darwin and honolulu." "we're wasting time," said smith despairingly. "be so good as to order up the petrol; then i'll give you a few headings." mcmurtrie was delighted. he gave the order to a firm in the city, requesting that the petrol should be sent out by motor at once. then he took smith and cleave into the luncheon-room, which they had to themselves, ordered a meal for smith, and drinks for cleave and himself, and while smith was eating, filled his note-book with jottings, which he foretold would sell out two editions of his paper like winking. rodier, meanwhile, was cleaning the engine. to execute an order smartly is one of the first of business virtues. smith was satisfied that the virtue was appreciated in toronto: the petrol arrived, as mcmurtrie assured him, in the shortest possible time. unluckily the toronto men of business had their share of humanity's common failing--if it is a failing--curiosity. mcmurtrie, with smith at his elbow, had scrupulously refrained from explaining what the petrol was wanted for; his assistant, daniels, had been too busy seeing the special edition to press to run about gossiping; and davis, the shorthand-writer, the third in the secret, had become so mechanical that nothing stirred emotion within him; he wrote of murders, assassinations, political convulsions, rooseveltian exploits, diplomatic indiscretions, everything but football matches, with the same pencil and the same cold, inhuman precision. but it happened that one of the compositors in the _sphere_ printing office, who took a lively interest in the affairs of his fellow mortals, had a bet with a friend in the plumbing line about this very matter of the mysterious flying men. no sooner had he set up his portion of the editor's note than he begged leave of absence for half-an-hour from the overseer, whipped off his apron, and rushed off to demand his winnings before the loser had time to spend them in the _blue lion_ on the way home from work. they repaired, nevertheless, to the _blue lion_ to settle their account; they told the news to the barman, who passed it to the landlord; a publisher's clerk heard it, and repeated it to the manager; the manager acquainted the head of the firm as he went out to tea; the publisher mentioned it in an off-hand way to the man next him at the café; and--to roll the snowball no further--half toronto was in possession of the news before the _sphere_ appeared on the streets. the result was a general exodus in the direction of the scarborough bluffs. on foot, on bicycles, in cabs, motor-cars, trolley-cars, drays, and all kinds of vehicles, every one who had a tincture of sporting spirit set off to see two men and a structure of metal and canvas--quite ordinary persons and things, but representing a deed and an idea. thus it happened that close behind the dray conveying the petrol came a long procession, the sound of whose coming announced it from afar. "'tis the way of us in toronto," said mcmurtrie soothingly, when smith vented his annoyance. the crowd invaded the club-grounds, to the horror of the green-keepers, and rolled past the club-house to the aeroplane, where rodier, having finished cleaning, was regaling himself with an excellent repast sent out to him by mr. mcmurtrie. cheers for lieutenant smith arose; rodier smiled and bowed, not ceasing to ply his knife and fork until a daring youth put his foot upon the aeroplane. then rodier dropped knife and fork, and rushed like a cat at the intruder. the frenchiness of his language apprised the spectators that they were on the wrong scent, and they demanded to know where lieutenant smith was. knowing smith's dislike of demonstrations, rodier was about to point lugubriously to the edge of the cliff, when some one shouted "here he is!" and the mob flocked towards the club-house, from which smith had just emerged. rodier seized the opportunity to finish his meal, and direct the operations of the men who had brought the petrol. smith had not found himself in so large a crowd of english-speaking people since he had left london. the early morning enthusiasm of the san francisco journalists was hard to bear, but the afternoon enthusiasm of toronto was terrible. hundreds of young fellows wanted to hoist him to their shoulders; dozens of opulent citizens perspired to carry him to the city in their cars; some very young ladies panted to kiss him; and a score of journalists buzzed about him, but upon them mcmurtrie smiled with a look of conscious superiority. smith whispered to him. the editor nodded. "gentlemen!" he shouted, holding up his hand. "silence!... hear, hear!... s-s-sh!... don't make such a row!... same to you!... let's hear what jack mcmurtrie has got to say." thus the babel was roared down. "ladies and gentlemen," said mcmurtrie; "mr. smith--" "three cheers for smith!" shouted some one; horns blurted; from the edge of the crowd the first notes of "for he's a jolly good fellow" were heard, and they sang it through twice, so that those who had missed the beginning should not be hurt in their feelings. "ladies and gentlemen," began mcmurtrie again, when he could make his voice heard, "mr. smith, who is rather hoarse from constant exposure to the night air, asks me to thank you for the warmth of your reception. he has been good enough to give me full particulars of his wonderful journey, which you will find in the final edition of the _sphere_. as i've no doubt at all that you are anxious to have the chance of seeing mr. smith performing the evolutions which up to this time have been witnessed by next to nobody but the stars and the flying fishes, he has consented, at my request, to give a demonstration, provided that you'll allow him a clear run, and don't be accessory to your own manslaughter." this announcement was greeted with loud cheers. the crowd fell back, allowing smith a free course to the aeroplane. "bedad," said mcmurtrie; "i wouldn't wonder but they tear me to pieces before i get safe home. but i'll skip into a motor-car as soon as you are started. now, is there anything i can do for you before you go?" "only send two cables for me; one to my sister: here's the address; say simply 'all well.' the other to barracombe, mincing lane, london, asking him to meet me at home at eleven p.m., to-morrow. you won't forget?" "i will not. but you're a cool hand, to be sure." a space was cleared; the aeroplane ran off, soared aloft, and for a few seconds circled over the heads of the spectators. then a voice came to them from the air, not so much like longfellow's falling star as an emission from a gramaphone. "good-bye, friends. thanks for your kind reception. sorry i can't stay any longer; but i've got to be in portsmouth, england within twenty-four hours. good-bye." the aeroplane wheeled eastward, and shot forward at a speed that made the onlookers gasp. when it had disappeared, they became suddenly alive to the suspicion that jack mcmurtrie had practised a ruse on them. they gave a yell and looked round for him. a motor-car was making at forty miles an hour for toronto. chapter xvii a midnight vigil mr. william barracombe was the most punctual of men. he entered his office in mincing lane precisely at ten o'clock on thursday morning. his letters had already been sorted and arranged in two neat piles on his desk. topmost on one of them was a cablegram from toronto: "meet me home eleven p.m. smith." he never admitted that anything would surprise him, and in fact he showed no sign of excitement, but looked through his correspondence methodically, distributing the papers among several baskets to be dealt with by respective members of his staff, or by himself. this done, he rang for the office boy, ordered him to remove the baskets, and then took up the cablegram again. "by jove!" he said to himself. he reached down his a b c and looked out a train for cosham. "i may as well go down to dinner," he thought. his next proceeding was to telephone to his chambers instructing his man to meet him at waterloo with his suit-case. then he wrote a telegram to mrs. smith announcing that he would dine with her that evening. thereupon he was ready to tackle the business problems which would absorb his attention until five o'clock. on arriving at cosham park he was taken to the study, where kate smith was awaiting him. "you have heard from charley?" she said anxiously, after shaking hands. "yes. have you?" "he wired 'all well.' he is very economical. all his messages have been just those two words, except yesterday's from honolulu. that was 'father safe.'" "that's magnificent. he didn't tell me that, the rascal. like you, i have nothing before but 'all well.'" "do tell me what he wired you this time. i was afraid when we got your telegram that something had happened." "not a bit of it. he expects to be here at eleven." "how delightful! i am quite proud of him, really. you can come and see mother now. i wanted to speak to you first because she knows nothing about charley's journey. i thought it best to keep it from her until i knew about father, and having kept it so long i decided to leave it for charley to tell himself. i don't know whether i can manage it. i'm so excited i could scream." "don't mind me. ah! how d'ye do, mrs. smith?" the lady had just entered. "you'll forgive my presumption?" "not at all--that is, an old friend like you doesn't presume, mr. barracombe. have you heard from charley lately?" "a word or two. he's coming home to-night. he asked me to meet him here." "how vexing! i mean, i wish i had known before; i can tell you what i couldn't tell a stranger: we've fish for only three. but i am glad the dear boy will have a few hours at home before he rejoins his ship. it was very annoying that his leave should be spoilt. i am sure his captain works him too hard." "i don't fancy he'll consider his leave spoilt. but don't be concerned about the fish; he won't be home till eleven." "my bed-time is ten; i haven't made an exception for years; but i shall certainly sit up for him; if you'll play cribbage with me to keep me awake. we dine at eight. you know your room?" a servant entered. "please, m'm, there's a man asking for mr. charley." "who is he, betts?" "a stranger to me, m'm. his name is barton, and he's a farmer sort of man." "did you tell him that mr. charley is not at home?" "yes, m'm. he said he'd wait." "tell him that mr. charley will not be in till eleven. he had better call again." the servant returned in a minute or two. "please, m'm, the man says he don't mind waiting. he has come miles special to see mr. charley, and he says he won't be put off. he seems a bit put out, m'm." "i'll go and see him, mother," said kate. "it may be important." "perhaps mr. barracombe will go with you, my dear. the man may be intoxicated." kate and mr. barracombe proceeded to the hall, where stood a man in rough country garments, his calves encased in brown leather leggins. "you wish to see my brother?" said kate. "i do so, if mr. charles thusidger smith, r.n., be your brother, miss. he give me this card wi's name prented on it, and vowed and declared he'd send me a cheque as soon as he got my bill for the damage he done. 'tis a week come saturday since i sent my bill, and daze me if i've got a cheque or even had any answer. that's not fair dealing; it bean't proper; that's what _i_ say." mr. barracombe's eyes twinkled. he glanced at kate, and said-- "your name is b-b--" "barton, sir; firtop farm, mottisfont." "what is this b-b-bill for d-d-damages you speak of?" "why, sir, 'twas like this. last thursday night as was, i was just a-strippin' off my coat to go to bed when i heard a randy of a noise out-along, and my dogs set up a-barkin', and goin' to look, there was a airyplane had shoved hisself into my hayrick, and a young feller a-splutterin' and hollerin', and usin' all manner of heathen language to my dog. he cooled down arter a bit, when i'd spoke to him pretty straight, axin' who'd pay for the mess he'd made, and he went down-along to village, sayin' he'd take a bed there for hisself and his man, and pay me what was fair. drown me if he wasn't back in half-an-hour, all of a heat, tellin' me in a commandin' way--being an officer by what he said--to pull down my fence and help him hoist that airyplane on to the road. i wouldn't stir a finger till he'd promised faithful to pay, not me; then we worked me and some labourin' men he brought, till we was all of a sweat, and we got the dratted thing out, and off she went, whizzin' and buzzin' in a way i never did see. come mornin' i took a look at things, and there was half my hay not worth a cuss for horse or ass, and thirty feet of fence fit for nowt but firewood. 'send in your bill,' says he, and send it i did, and neither song nor sixpence have i got for it. thinks i, i'll go and see if he give me a right name and address, and a mighty moil 'twas to find the place, and no train back till mornin', and my wife don't know where i be." "very annoying. what's the amount of your b-b-bill?" "here it be. cast your eye on it, sir. i ain't overcharged a penny." he handed mr. barracombe a soiled paper folded many times--"to damage to hay, repairing fence, and cleaning up, _£_ _s_ - / _d_." "what's the ha'penny?" asked mr. barracombe. "i never thowt there'd be any question of a ha'penny, drown me if i did. the ha'penny be for the ball of twine we used to get fence straight. i didn't want it set up all crissmacross, mind 'ee, and you have to draw a line same as when you're plantin' 'taties." "well, mr. b-b-barton, i'm sorry mr. smith isn't at home, but the f-fact is he's been for a voyage round the world, and won't be home till eleven." "that's a good 'un. round the world! why, i tell 'ee this was only a se'nnight ago. i seed him myself. he couldn't get a half nor a quarter round the world in the time. my son jock be a sailor, and he don't do it under six months. that won't wash with isaac barton. no, no, if he'll be home at eleven he hain't been round the world. anyway, i'll bide till he comes. i dussn't show my face to home without _£_ _s._ - / _d._, railway fare extry." "if that's the case i'd b-better p-p-pay you myself. mr. smith will settle with me. here's a f-f-five-pound note: that will pay your b-b-bill and your f-fare, and leave something over for a b-bed in the village if you can't get home to-night." "well now, that's handsome, be dazed if it hain't." "just receipt your bill, w-will you? by the b-bye, mr. smith didn't pay you anything on account?" "i won't tell a lie. he did. he give me a pound, but that don't come in the reckonin'. hay was _£_ , wood fifteen shillin', men's time _£_ , beer two shillin', odds and ends five shillin', nails four-pence, twine a ha'penny, makin' _£_ , _s._ - / _d._ i've a-took off _£_ , leavin' _£_ _s_. - / _d._" "very well. here's a s-stamp." the farmer receipted the bill. "thank'ee, sir." he cleared his throat, "if i med make so bold, sir, meanin' no offence--" "what n-now?" "why, sir, speakin' in my simple common way, i never hears a body stutter in his talk but i think of my brother sam and how he cured hisself. he was a terrible bad stutterer in his young days, he was, nearly bustin' hisself tryin' to get it out, poor soul. but a clever parson chap learned him how to cure hisself, and if i med make so bold, i'll tell 'ee how 'twas done." "i shall be d-delighted." "well, this parson chap--ah! he was a clever feller, everywhere except in the pulpit--he said to my brother, 'sam,' says he--he always talked in that homely way--'sam, poor feller, i'll tell 'ee what the bishop told me when i stuttered so bad i couldn't say 'dearly beloved brethren' without bub--bub--bubbing awful. 'say the bub--bub--bub inside yerself,' says he, 'and then you can stutter as long as you like without a soul knowin' it. my brother sam thowt 'a med as well give it a trial, and he did, and bless 'ee, in a week he could talk as straightforward as the prime minister, and no one 'ud ever know what a terrible lot of b's and m's and other plaguey letters he swallered. try it, sir; say 'baby mustn't bother mummy' that way ten times every morning afore breakfast, and 'pepper-pots and mustard plasters' afore goin' to bed, and i lay you'll get over it as quick as my brother sam. good-night, sir and miss, and thank 'ee." "why _do_ you pretend so?" said kate, laughing, when the door was shut. "my dear kate, i have stuttered for pleasure and profit ever since i discovered the efficacy of it at school. when i didn't know my lesson one day i put on a stammer, and my bub--bub--bubbing, as the farmer calls it, made the master so uncomfortable that, ever afterwards, at the first sign of it he passed me over. that's why i'm such a fool to-day." "you're incorrigible. come, it's time to dress for dinner." the time between dinner and eleven passed all too slowly. mrs. smith and barracombe played cribbage; kate was restless, opening a book, laying it down, touching the piano, going to the window and peering out into the dark. "why are you so restless to-night, kate?" asked her mother. "one would think that charley had been away for months instead of a week." "ah, but you see, mother, he hasn't--" "hasn't what--fifteen two, fifteen four--well, kate?" "has never been quite so late home on his last night of leave, has he, mother?" "that is true--one for his nob. i really think they ought to make him a captain, for he seems to be an exceedingly useful officer. he went away last thursday, as i understood, on some business connected with a wreck. i do hope none of the poor men were drowned. i often think of my husband, mr. barracombe, on the other side of the world, going about among those dreadful coral reefs, and i wish he would retire and live safely at home. i could never understand what he finds interesting in bits of stone and things of that sort, but of course he is a very distinguished man." so the good lady prattled on, placidly unconscious of her nearness to the border-line between comedy and tragedy. the clock struck eleven. "thank you, mr. barracombe; i have enjoyed the game," said mrs. smith. "charley will soon be here." "let us go to the door," said kate. "perhaps we shall hear him." "mr. barracombe will go with you, kate; i am a little afraid of the night air. wrap yourself up." the two went to the conservatory door, overlooking the park. the sky was clear, the air was still; not a sound was to be heard. every now and then a broad flash of light fleetingly illuminated the sky; it was no doubt the searchlight at spithead. "i wish he would come," said kate. "it would be terrible if anything went wrong at the very last. how far is it across the atlantic?" "it's three thousand five hundred miles to liverpool from new york, and rather more from toronto; a ticklish journey, with no chance of landing till he gets to ireland." "it makes me shudder to think of him crossing the sea in that frail machine." "people shuddered at the first railway train, speed ten miles an hour; now we grumble at fifty. in a few years we shall have an aerial marathon, with the circumference of the globe for the course." "hark! what is that?" "the rumble of a train," said barracombe, after a moment's silence. "shall we walk down to the sheds? there's a clear view from there, without trees; we could see the aeroplane a long way off, though probably we should hear it first." they went on, remained at the sheds for some minutes, scanning the sky, then retraced their steps. a quarter-past eleven struck. kate grew more and more anxious, and barracombe found it more and more difficult to talk unconcernedly. they returned to the house, and entering through the conservatory, discovered mrs. smith asleep in her chair. barracombe noiselessly put some coal on the fire, and they stole out again. half-past eleven. "don't you think you had better go to bed, kate?" "i couldn't sleep if i did, billy. i couldn't even lie still. oh, how helpless one feels! charley may be drowning, and we don't know it, and can't do anything to help." "pull yourself together, kate. i am sure he is all right. he probably started later than he intended. you may be sure he wouldn't start unless the engine was in thorough good order. let us go in and play patience." "no, no; i must move. let us walk down the road." barracombe was more perturbed than he would admit. it was unlike smith to miscalculate. his telegram was probably sent off at the moment of starting, or even after he had started, from toronto. if the engine had worked at all, it would work at full speed, so that the loss of time on the journey implied either contrary winds, a mistaken course, or a serious mishap. kate was so little in the mood for talking that barracombe in responsive silence could toss the various probabilities about in his mind until he felt a nervous excitability that annoyed him. they walked up and down the silent road. the church clock struck a quarter to twelve. the minutes dragged until it was again heard. a little after twelve they stopped short at the same moment; kate grasped barracombe's arm. "listen!" she said. a faint sound, like the murmur of the wind, but becoming louder with extraordinary rapidity. "oh, billy!" cried the girl. "run; he'll be at the sheds first." she caught his hand and tugged him towards the park gate, a hundred yards distant. "my dear kate!" he protested; "i'm not so young as i was. _let_ him be there first, confound him!" but he ran all the same. the engine was roaring overhead, _fortissimo_; looking up, the two panting runners saw the flashlight. a sudden silence, as when the word _tacet_ in an orchestral score hushes to silence bassoons and horns, drums and cymbals, all the instruments that but a moment before were convulsing the air with myriad waves of sound. "he's gliding!" cried kate, standing breathless at the door of the shed. the machine descended silently and rested on the smooth level sward. kate darted forward. "oh, charley!" she cried; "you've come!" chapter xviii the last lap "rather late, ain't you!" said barracombe, as smith jumped from the aeroplane. "hallo, sis. hallo, old man!" cried smith. "we've done it; seven days, to the minute!" kate flew into his arms: only next day did she discover the ruin of her dress. "i've a voice like a corncake," said smith, disengaging himself. "glad to see you, billy." "you're a wonder! but, god bless me! you look awfully done up. you look positively ill. come up to the house at once; we don't want you crocked." "come on, roddy," said smith hoarsely. "you'll stay with us to-night. leave the machine for once. you see, billy, i have to rejoin at nine to-morrow--to-morrow, i say; i mean this morning. that gives me nine hours, and as i haven't been to bed for a week i want seven good solid hours sleep." "but really, charley, you don't look fit to rejoin," said kate. "your cheeks are dreadfully thin, and your voice is nearly gone." "well, of course, i'm dead tired; feel all to pieces, in fact. but all i want is sleep." "and a medical certificate," put in barracombe. "i've known a fellow get two months' leave for what he called a strained heart. strained it to some purpose, for he got married before his leave was up. we'll get you a certificate--a doctor's, not a parson's." "i don't mind if you do, after i've rejoined; but i must show up without fail at nine a.m. i'm later than i meant to be. got snowed up at st. john's." "you didn't come straight from toronto, then!" "no. didn't care to risk it. besides, it would have meant eighteen hours in the air at a stretch. i don't think roddy and i could have stood that. i took st. john's--in newfoundland, kate--on the way." "but i thought newfoundland was near the north pole." "a common mistake. st. john's is considerably southward of our latitude. but they've had a cold snap there lately, and we came down in a snowdrift and had to be dug out. we had an easy flight across the atlantic; the engine has behaved splendidly all through, thanks to roddy. but i'm glad to be home; by jove, i am!" this conversation passed as they walked up to the house. mrs. smith had been wakened by the noise of the engine, and stood just within the door to welcome her son. she, too, was struck by his haggard appearance, and declared she must send for the doctor. "why, mother, you're not going to coddle me at my age," he said. "you ought to be in bed. off you go: i shall be all right in the morning. i shall have something to tell you then. breakfast at eight sharp, by the way; or i shan't get to portsmouth in time." "very well, my dear. simmons is up, keeping some food warm for you. i will tell him. goodnight." "i've such loads to tell you," said smith, when she had gone; "but i'm afraid it must wait. by the way, kate, i suppose nothing of importance has come for me?" "a few letters, mostly from the people you disappointed, i suspect. i'll fetch them." when she returned, smith immediately noticed a long official envelope in the bundle. he tore it open. "great scott!" he cried. "an order to rejoin on wednesday without fail. that's a nasty whack." "any explanation?" asked barracombe. "not a word. some sudden whimsy of the admiral's, i suppose. have you got yesterday's paper, kate?" "i remember now," cried kate. "how silly of me to forget it! the _implacable_ broke down, and your ship was ordered to replace her." "just my luck!" exclaimed smith gloomily. "last time i was late the ship was going shooting. now i shall miss her altogether when she's at manoeuvres. captain bolitho will put me down as a hopeless rotter." "what nonsense, charley! you had seven days left, and you're not bound to be within call at a moment's notice. i'm very glad the ship has left portsmouth, for now you can't rejoin, and you'll have time to rest." "i'm not so sure, kate," he cried, suddenly sitting up, and scanning the paper she had brought. "where's the fleet? ah! irish coast. i'll rejoin, as sure as i'm alive. you see, i'm due at nine. i'm not physically incapable, and in the aeroplane i can easily do it if i can find the squadron. the _implacable_ was with the blue fleet, operating from bear haven, i see. it's worth trying, anyhow." "magnificent, but absurd," said barracombe. "you won't find them, either." "a fiver that i will." "no, thanks. by the way, you owe me a fiver." "how's that?" "look at this." he handed smith farmer barton's receipted bill, and related what had happened in the evening. smith laughed. "i'd forgotten him; but his bill is no doubt among this batch. to come back to the point. i am serious. i mean to rejoin my ship at nine. to give myself plenty of time i'll start at six. it's now past twelve; i'll set my alarm clock for six. i'm sorry for roddy, i'm afraid, he must clean the engine. d'you mind finding him?--ah! here he is, and simmons with soup. thank you, simmons. sorry to keep you up so late." "i'm glad to see you back safe and sound, sir," said the man respectfully. smith shot a glance at rodier, but the look of surprise on the frenchman's face showed that he, at any rate, had not been talking. kate's expression proved that she was equally surprised. "and i hope the master and mr. tom are as well as could be expected, sir," added simmons. "what do you mean?" "well, sir, i knew the master had met with a accident--" "but i cut the paragraph out of the paper," cried kate. "yes, miss, that's what made me go and buy one. i assure you i haven't said a word to a soul, miss, guessing as you wanted it kep' from the mistress, and you can't trust female maids." "but how did you know i had gone out to the solomons?" asked smith. "'twas a bit in the _times_ first put me on the scent, sir, about a sensation in constantinople about two daring and intrepid airmen that came down there sudden-like and went away in a jiff. no names were named, sir, but i guessed it was you and mr. rodier." "johnson had discretion, at any rate," murmured smith. "well!" "next day there was a bit about two airmen coming down at some place in india, sir. putting two and two together--" "i see. no names again?" "no, sir, not till to-night." "to-night, eh?" "yes, sir. there's a bit in the _evening news_ to-night, not strictly true, sir. i've got it here." he drew the paper from his pocket, and pointed to the following paragraph-- the mysterious airmen whose doings have been reported at intervals during the last few days have now appeared at san francisco. one of them is said to be a lieutenant thistleton smith, who, according to our correspondent, explained that he has a bet of £ , with a well-known sporting nobleman that he will circle the globe in a fortnight. the general opinion in san francisco is that these sporadic appearances of airmen in far-distant spots are part of a cleverly devised scheme of world-wide advertisement, engineered by a chicago pork-packing firm who have more than once displayed considerable ingenuity in pushing their products. there was general laughter when smith read this paragraph aloud. rodier alone was solemn. "they think we boom pigs!" he cried indignantly. "pigs themselves." "well, roddy, truth will out," said smith. "i'm sorry to keep you up, by the way, but i shall have to leave at six o'clock. would you mind running down to the shed and--cleaning the engine?" "mon dieu! i do nothing for a week but clean the engine." "yes, poor chap, but you shall have a rest after this. go to bed when you've got things shipshape; i shall go alone; only about four hundred miles this time." "you really mean it, then?" said barracombe. "decidedly. if you knew captain bolitho you would see that there's no help for it." "well, then, the sooner you eat your supper and get between the sheets the better. i'll tuck you up." "tuck in and tuck up. very well." "your bath shall be ready at six, sir," said simmons. a few minutes after six o'clock, smith made his ascent, his departure being witnessed by his sister and barracombe and the whole domestic staff. he flew rapidly over hampshire, dorset, devon; crossed the bristol channel, and made a bee-line for bear haven at the entrance to bantry bay. soon after eight he descried a number of dull grey specks strung like beads on the western horizon. they must be one or other of the opposing fleets, either the reds or the blues; but which? he must go and see. altering his course a point or two, in a few minutes he was running down the line of warships, which were steaming line ahead, apparently in the direction of bear haven. at a glance he recognized the _thunderbolt_, notoriously the lame duck of the reds, lagging three or four miles behind the rest. smith slowed down to quarter speed as he passed the leading ships, and a few blank shots were fired at him for form's sake, for the guns were incapable of an inclination that would be dangerous to him at his height of , feet, even if they were throwing live shell. he drew clear of the squadron, and was about to put his engine at full speed again when an aeroplane shot up from the deck of the flagship and started in pursuit, followed at a short interval by a second aeroplane from a vessel some distance down the line. smith smiled to himself. from what he knew of the service aeroplanes, the _puck_, as he had now named his vessel, was in no danger of being overtaken; but if the airmen of the red fleet wanted a run, he was not the man to baulk them. in a few minutes the pursuers began to close in; he increased the speed to eighty miles; still they gained on him. another notch in the regulator increased his speed to a hundred miles an hour, at which he felt that he should be able to hold his own. he found, however, that one of the aeroplanes was still gaining, and it was not until he had increased his speed another twenty miles that the _puck_ began to draw away. "now to business," smith said to himself. paying no more attention to the pursuers, except by a glance to assure himself that, though hopelessly outstripped, they were still following him, he searched the horizon ahead for signs of the blue fleet. the rugged coast of cork county had been for some time in sight, and as smith was well acquainted with it from experience in former manoeuvres, he was able to steer straight for bear haven as soon as the landmarks were distinguishable. it was more than half-an-hour after sighting the red fleet when he flew over bantry bay to the harbour. except for a number of colliers it was empty. smith had already decided on his course of action if he should find that the fleet had put to sea. he would adopt the tactics that had succeeded so well in ysabel island, searching, not the land this time, but the sea, fanwise, while his fuel lasted. the position of the colliers seemed to indicate that they had only recently been engaged in coaling, so that in all probability the fleet had left that morning and was not far away. probably, too, it was in the open atlantic, and not sheltering in any of the innumerable inlets of the western coast. he steered due west, noticing as he did so that the pursuers were still doggedly on his trail, and had gained considerably while he had been investigating the harbour. he looked at his watch. it was twenty-five minutes to nine. he would reach his ship in time if it were not more than eighty-five miles distant, supposing that it was going in the same direction, or perhaps a hundred and ten if it were coming towards him. rising to the height of , feet, he searched the sea in all directions through his binocular. he noticed with amusement that one of the pursuing aeroplanes had come down on mizzen head; the other was still labouring after him. there were fishing smacks here and there near the coast, looking like moths. far to the left he saw a liner pouring its black smoke into the air; it might have been a cockroach in widow's weeds. and there, far in the west, what is that? smoke, or a cloud? in two minutes there is no longer any doubt; in three minutes the shapes of a squadron of battleships can be clearly seen; in five minutes smith's practised eyes, now that he has descended, can distinguish the _imperturbable_, flying the admiral's flag, among what to a landsman would appear to be a dozen exactly similar vessels. glancing back, he sees that the red scout has changed her course, and is already only a speck in the southern sky. it was precisely ten minutes to nine by smith's watch when the _puck_, literally received with open arms by two-score sturdy tars, alighted on the deck of the _imperturbable_. "come aboard, sir," said smith cheerfully to his captain. "so i see," was the laconic reply. "sorry i was away, sir, when your recall arrived--in the south pacific." "in the--what?" "the south pacific, sir, or thereabouts." "don't you think, mr. smith, you are going a little too far?" said the captain sternly. "well, sir," replied smith naïvely, "it _was_ a goodish distance. but i have managed to get back within my leave. ten minutes to spare, sir." captain bolitho gasped. "do you mean to tell me, seriously, you have been to the south pacific?" "certainly, sir. i left home about midnight last thursday, and got back not quite nine hours ago. went to the solomon islands _viâ_ penang and port darwin, and come home _viâ_ samoa and 'frisco." "but--but--then you have been _round the world_, sir--in _how_ long?" "seven days, sir. my leave expires at nine this morning." mechanically, like a man in a dream, the captain took out his watch. "twenty-five minutes past eight," he said. "you needn't have hurried yourself. you've another half-hour by irish time. perhaps you'd like to fill it up by a trip round ireland," he added dryly. smith smiled. the first lieutenant broke in-- "look-out reports, sir, another aeroplane was sighted behind mr. smith's." the admiral, who had been an amused auditor of the colloquy between captain bolitho and his lieutenant, was a man of intuitions. "there are no aeroplanes on this coast except the two with the reds," he said. "mr. smith, you have now reported yourself for duty. our single aeroplane has broken down; we must impress yours for public service. i will not ask you what you have seen; but you will at once follow the strange aeroplane, and endeavour to find out the position and course of the enemy's fleet." in less than a minute smith was in the air; in ten minutes he had overtaken the red aeroplane, flying high as he approached, and hovering over his late pursuer, who made vain efforts to rise above him. the immense engine power of the _puck_ gave her as great an advantage over her rival in soaring as in horizontal speed. by the rules of the manoeuvres the red aeroplane was out of action as soon as the _puck_ rose vertically above her. wasting no further time, smith continued his course, and in half-an-hour sighted the red squadron, noted its strength and course, and in another half-hour was back on the deck of the _imperturbable_. "i found the enemy, sir, about ninety miles s.s.e., eight battleships and about a dozen scouts. their course was west." the admiral made a rapid calculation. "by jove!" he said, "they will catch pomeroy before we join him. but there's time yet. we can warn pomeroy to meet us twenty miles north-east of the spot previously arranged. i think, captain bolitho, we may perhaps overlook mr. smith's little irregularity in joining if he gives us a full account of his--er--experiences, after dinner to-night." "and the reds, sir?" "before dinner, one or the other of us will be out of action. whether reds or blues, we shall have leisure to hear how mr. smith went round the world in seven days." postscript the following extracts from the press, neatly pasted in kate smith's scrap book, have a certain historical and romantic interest for the persons concerned, directly or indirectly, in the incidents of the foregoing narrative. (_from our own correspondent_.) constantinople, friday. the appearance of an aeroplane this morning caused a considerable sensation. it descended in the old archery ground of the sultans, to the terror of the juvenile population that now uses the ok meidan as a common playground. it contained two passengers, and though no authentic information is obtainable, it is rumored that the daring and intrepid airmen have made a rapid flight from berlin, and are proceeding to persia on a secret mission connected with the bagdad railway. (_from our own correspondent_.) bombay, monday. the natives of the mekran coast are again showing signs of insubordination. the gunboat _penguin_ has just come into harbour, and her commander, captain durward, reports that on saturday he discovered a crowd of baluchis in the act of smuggling arms into an apparently innocent fishing-village. he landed a party of bluejackets half a mile east of the village, and swooped upon it simultaneously with an attack from the sea. the villagers scattered in all directions, but the ring-leaders were captured, together with a large number of rifles and ammunition. the coup reflects the greatest credit on this able and energetic officer. _later_. the craze for aviation has at last broken out in india. two airmen made a sudden appearance at karachi on saturday, and departed after a brief stay for the interior. they are said to be in the employment of the nizam of hyderabad, who is spending vast sums on his latest hobby. brisbane, monday. news has just arrived by wireless from the gunboat _frobisher_, off ysabel island, that the crew of the survey-vessel _albatross_, which was wrecked there a fortnight ago, are safe. the party, it will be remembered, includes the famous geologist, dr. thesiger smith. the message is very brief, and a reference it makes to an aeroplane is thought to be an error.--reuter. singapore, wednesday. the penang correspondent of the _free press_ telegraphs--"the barque _elizabeth_ put in to-day in tow of a steamtug of this port, and reported an extraordinary incident in mid-ocean. she was dismasted a fortnight ago in a cyclone south of the andamans, and while drifting, fire broke out in the forehold, and was kept under with the greatest difficulty. her plight was discovered and reported here by the driver of an aeroplane who was making a flight in the neighbourhood, and the tug was immediately sent to her assistance. conflicting rumours are prevalent as to the identity of the aviator in question; captain bunce, of the _elizabeth_, insists that the airman's name was smith, but his account is rather confused, and the most generally accepted opinion is that he is an officer of the german navy, which has recently adopted the aeroplane for scouting purposes. on no other supposition can his presence so far from land be accounted for. owing to the facts that he arrived in the night of sunday and departed immediately, no trustworthy information is obtainable."--reuter. _(from our own correspondent_.) toronto, wednesday. the later editions of the _sphere_ contain a detailed account of the extraordinary world-flight accomplished by lieutenant thesiger smith of the british navy, which sets at rest the rumours and speculations of the past week. lieutenant smith left london last friday at . a.m. (greenwich time), and arrived here this afternoon, descending on the golf links on scarborough bluffs. i will wire full particulars later. _(from our own correspondent_.) paris, monday. the cross of the legion of honour was to-day presented by the president of the republic to m. laurent rodier, who accompanied your lieutenant thesiger smith last month on his adventurous flight around the world. it is understood that the french government has taken up the remarkable invention due to m. rodier and his english confrère, and has offered m. rodier the headship of a new state aeronautical department. the neglect of genius. to the editor of the _spectator_. sir,--the paragraph in the _times_ of monday relating to the honour awarded to m. rodier, suggests sad reflections to a patriotic englishman. we have not as yet heard that lieutenant smith's wonderful achievement has been in any way recognized by our government. abroad, genius is fostered: here, it is slighted. how long shall such things be?--i am, sir, etc., pro bono publico. [we have repeatedly declared our hatred of protection in every shape and form, so that we shall not be misunderstood when we say that we cordially endorse our correspondent's complaint. if the present government, which in general has our hearty support, devoted as much energy to the cultivation of british genius as it now devotes to the spoon-feeding of british industry, we should have less reason to fear the growing menace of socialism.--ed. _spectator_.] the king has been pleased to confer the honour of i knighthood on lieutenant charles thesiger smith, r.n. thesiger-smith--bunce.--on july th, at st. george's, hanover square, by the rev. canon montague, uncle of the bridegroom, sir charles thesiger smith, captain r.n., elder son of dr. thesiger smith, m.a., f.r.s., to margaret, only daughter of the late john bunce, master mariner. an airman's wedding. an interesting announcement in another column recalls a romance of the air and sea. sir charles thesiger smith, whose famous flight round the world last year has not yet been repeated, was yesterday married to miss margaret bunce, the lady whom he rescued in mid-ocean from a burning vessel, and carried with him to safety. many notable people attended to witness the ceremony, and the presents include a gold scarf-pin in the shape of an aeroplane, the gift of the king. [illustration: at the correct moment peggy dropped the weighted bundle overboard.--page .] the girl aviators' sky cruise by margaret burnham author of "the girl aviators and the phantom airship," "the girl aviators on golden wings," etc. new york hurst & company contents chapter i. a new venture in sandy beach ii. mr. harding declares himself iii. a naval visitor iv. aloft in a storm v. peggy a heroine vi. farmer galloway's "safe deposit" vii. a case for the authorities viii. mr. mortlake loses some drawings ix. the flight of the "silver cobweb" x. an aerial post office xi. the marked bill xii. what happened to roy xiii. plot and counterplot xiv. how they worked out xv. what mortlake did xvi. the missing side-comb xvii. jimsy's suspicions are roused xviii. a bolt from the blue xix. the gathering of the man-birds xx. an unexpected meeting xxi. the start of the sky cruise xxii. the white peril xxiii. out of the clouds xxiv. friends and foes--conclusion chapter i. a new venture in sandy beach. "it isn't to be a barn; that's one thing certain. who ever saw a barn with skylights on it?" peggy prescott, in a pretty, fluffy morning dress of pale green, which set off her blonde beauty to perfection, laid down her racket, and, leaving the tennis-court, joined her brother roy at the picket fence. the lad, bronzed and toughened by his trip to the nevada desert, was leaning upon the paling, gazing down the dusty road. about a quarter of a mile away was the object of his contemplation--a big, new structure, painted a staring red. it had no windows, but in front were great sliding doors. on its flat roof the forms of a dozen or more glazed skylights upreared themselves jauntily. "no, it's a work-shop of some sort. but what? old man harding is interested in it, that's one thing sure. i heard, too, that while we were away, cases of machinery had arrived and been delivered there, and that active work of some sort had been going forward ever since," rejoined roy, who was clad in white tennis flannels, with white shoes and an outing shirt, set off by a dark-red necktie. "see roy," cried peggy suddenly, "they're putting up some sort of sign on it, or else i'm very much mistaken." "so they are. i see men on some ladders, and now, look peg, they are carrying up a big board with something painted on it. perhaps at last the mystery will be solved, as they say in the dime novels." "can you read the printing on that sign?" inquired peggy. "not a word. i can see the letters to know that they are printed characters, but that's all. tell you what, peg, just run and get those glasses we used on the desert--there's a good fellow--and we'll soon find out." "isn't that just like a brother? always sending his long-suffering sister on his errands." "why, you know you are dying with curiosity yourself, to know what's on that signboard," parried roy. "and i suppose you're not," pouted peggy in mock indignation. "however, i'll get the field glasses to oblige you--just once." "as if you won't try to secure the first peek through them!" laughed roy, as sunny peggy tripped off across the lawn to a big shed in the rear of the prescott home, where the aeroplanes and their appurtenances were kept. she soon was back with the field glasses, and, as roy had prophesied, raised them to her eyes first. having adjusted the focus, she scrutinized the sign carefully. by this time the big board had been raised horizontally above the doors and was being fixed in position. suddenly peggy gave a little squeal of astonishment and lowered the magnifiers. "well, what is it?" chaffed roy; "an anarchist bomb factory or an establishment for raising goats, or something that will "butt in" just as much on our peace and quiet, or----" "roy prescott," enunciated peggy, severely shaking one pink-tipped finger under roy's freckled nose, "this is not a subject for jesting." "never more serious in my life, sis. if you could have seen your own face as you peeked through those glasses----" peggy stuffed the binoculars into her brother's brown hands. "here, look for yourself," she ordered. her voice was so imperious that roy obeyed immediately. an instant later his sister's expression of dumfounded amazement was mirrored on his own straightforward, good-looking countenance. "well, as bud used to say out west, 'if that ain't the beatingest'!" he gasped. "what did you read?" demanded peggy breathlessly. "repeat it so that i may be sure my eyes didn't play me a trick." "not likely, sis; the letters are big enough. they show up on that red painted barn of a place like a big freckle on a pretty girl's chin." then he repeated slowly, mimicking a boy reciting a lesson: "the mortlake aeroplane company. well, wouldn't that jar you?" "roy!" reproved peggy. "there's no other way to express it, sis," protested the boy. "why, that's the concern that's been advertising so much recently. just to think, it was right at our door, and we never knew it." "and that hateful old mr. harding is interested in it, too, oh!" the exclamation and its intonation expressed peggy's dislike of the gentleman mentioned. "it's a scheme oh his part to make trouble for us, i'll bet on it," burst out roy. "but this time i guess it's no phantom airship, but the real thing. what time is that naval lieutenant coming to look over the prescott aeroplane, peggy?" "some time to-day. he mentioned no particular hour." "do you think it possible that he is also going to take in that outfit down the road?" "it wouldn't surprise me. maybe that's why they are just putting up the sign. they evidently have refrained from doing so till now in order to keep the nature of their business secret. if we hadn't come back from nevada sooner than we expected, we might not have known anything about it till the navy had investigated and--approved." far down the road, beyond the big red building, came a whirl of dust. from it presently emerged a big maroon car. peggy scrutinized it through the glasses. "mr. harding is in that auto," she said, rather quietly for peggy, as the car came to a stop in front of the mortlake aeroplane manufacturing company's plant. shortly before peggy and roy prescott, their aunt, miss sallie prescott, with whom they made their home, and their chums, jess and jimsy bancroft, had returned from the nevada alkali wastes, the red building which engaged their attention that morning had caused a good deal of speculation in the humdrum long island village of sandy beach. in the first place, coincident with the completion of the building, a new element had been introduced into the little community by the arrival of several keen-eyed, close-mouthed men, who boarded at the local hotel and were understood to be employees at the new building. but what the nature of their employment was to be, even the keenest of the village "cross examiners" had failed to elicit. before long, within the freshly painted wooden walls, still sticky with pigment, there could be heard, all day, and sometimes far into the night, the buzz and whir of machinery and other more mystic sounds. the village was on tenter-hooks of curiosity, but there being no side windows to peer through, and a watchman of ferocious aspect stationed at the door, their inquisitiveness was, perforce, unsatisfied. not even a sign appeared on the building to indicate the nature of the industry carried on within, and its employees continued to observe the stoniest of silences. they herded together, ignoring all attempts to draw them into conversation. what peggy and roy had observed that day had been the first outward sign of the inward business. from the throbbing automobile, which the boy and girl had observed draw up in front of the mortlake plant, a man of advanced age alighted, whose yellow skin was stretched tightly, like a drumhead, over his bony face. from the new building, at the same time, there emerged a short, stout personage, garbed in overalls. but the fine quality of his linen, and a diamond pin, which nestled in the silken folds of his capacious necktie, showed as clearly as did his self-assertive manner, that the newcomer was by no means an ordinary workman. his face was pouchy and heavy, although the whole appearance of the man was by no means ill-looking. his cheeks and chin were clean shaven, the close-cut beard showing bluely under the coarse skin. for the rest, his hair was black and thick, slightly streaked with gray, and heavy eyebrows as dark in hue as his hair, overhung a pair of shrewd, gray eyes like small pent-houses. the man was eugene mortlake, the brains of the mortlake company. the individual who had just descended from the automobile, throwing a word to the chauffeur over his shoulder, was a person we have met before--mr. harding, the banker and local magnate of sandy beach, whose money it was that had financed the new aeroplane concern. chapter ii. mr. harding declares himself. readers of the first volume of this series, "the girl aviators and the phantom airship," will recall mr. harding. they will also be likely to recollect his son, fanning, who made so much trouble for peggy prescott and her brother, culminating in a daring attempt to "bluff" them out of entering a competition for a big aerial prize by constructing a phantom aeroplane. fanning's part in the mystery of the stolen jewels of mrs. bancroft, the mother of jess and jimsy, will likewise be probably held in memory by those who perused that volume. the elder harding's part in the attempt to coerce the young prescotts into parting with their aerial secrets, consisted in trying to foreclose a mortgage he held on the prescott home, with the alternative of roy turning over to him the blue prints and descriptions of his devices left the lad by his dead father. how the elder harding was routed and how the girl aviator, peggy prescott, came into her own, was all told in this volume. since that time mr. harding's revengeful nature had brooded over what he chose to fancy were his wrongs. what the fruit of his moody and mean meditations was to be, the mortlake plant, which he had financed, was, in part, the answer. in the volume referred to, it was also related how peter bell, an old hermit, had been discovered by means of the prescott aeroplane, and restored to his brother, a wealthy mining magnate. in the second volume of the girl aviators, we saw what came of the meeting between james bell, the westerner, and the young flying folk. by the agency of the aeroplane, a mine--otherwise inaccessible--had been opened up by mr. bell in a remote part of the desert hills of nevada. the aeroplane and peggy prescott played an important part in their adventures and perils. notably so, when in a neck-to-neck dash with an express train, the aeroplane won out in a race to file the location papers of the mine at monument rocks. the rescue of a desert wanderer from a terrible death on the alkali, and the routing of a gang of rascally outlaws were also set forth in full in that book, which was called "the girl aviators on golden wings." the present story commences soon after the return of the party from the far west, when they were much surprised--as has been said--to observe the mushroom-like rise of the mortlake factory. but of what the new plant was to mean to them, and how intimately they were to be brought in contact with it, none of them guessed. "well, mortlake," observed mr. harding, in his harsh, squeaky voice--not unlike the complaint of a long unused door, "well, mortlake, we are getting ahead, i see." the two men had, by this time, passed within the big sliding doors of the freshly-painted shed, and now stood in a maze of machinery and strange looking bits of apparatus. from skylights in the roof--there were no side windows to gratify the inquisitive--the sunlight streamed down on three or four partially completed aircraft. with their yellow wings of vulcanized cloth, and their slender bodies, like long tails, they resembled so many dragon-flies, or "devil's darning needles," assembled in conclave upon the level floor. at the farther end of the shed was a small blast furnace, shooting upward a livid, blue spout of flame, which roared savagely. actively engaged at their various tasks at lathes and work-benches, were a dozen or more overalled mechanics, the most skillful in their line that could be gathered. here and there were the motors, the driving power of the "dragon flies." the engines glistened with new paint and bright brass and copper parts. behind them were ranged big propellers of laminated, or joined wood, in stripes of brown and yellow timber. altogether, the mortlake plant was as complete a one for the manufacture of aerial machines as could have been found in the country. "yes, we are getting along, mr. harding," returned mortlake, "and it's time, too. by the way, lieut. bradbury is due here at noon. i want to have everything as far advanced as possible in time for his visit. you won't mind accompanying me then, while i oversee the workmen?" followed by mr. harding, he made an active, nervous tour of the work-benches, dropping a reproof here and a nod of commendation or advice there. when he saw a chance, mr. harding spoke. "so the government really means to give us an opportunity to show the worth of our machines?" he grated out, rubbing his hands as if washing them in some sort of invisible soap. "yes, so it seems. at any rate, they notified me that this officer would be here to-day to inspect the place. it means a great deal for us if the government consents to adopt our form of machine for the naval experiments." "to us! to you, you mean," echoed mr. harding, with an unpleasant laugh. "i've put enough capital into this thing now, mortlake. i'm not the man to throw good money after bad. if we are defeated by any other make of machine at the tests i mean to sell the whole thing and at least realize what i've put into it." mortlake turned a little pale under his swarthy skin. he rubbed his blue chin nervously. "why, you wouldn't chuck us over now, mr. harding," he said deprecatingly. "it was at your solicitation that the plant was put up here, and i had relied on you for unlimited support. why did you go into the manufacture of aerial machines, if you didn't mean to stick it out?" "i had two reasons," was the rejoinder, in tones as cold as a frigid blast of wind, "one was that i thought it was certain we should capture the government contract, and the other was--well, i had a little grudge i wished to satisfy." "but we will capture the government business. i am not afraid. there is no machine to touch the mortlake that i know of----" "yes, there is," interrupted mr. harding; "a machine that may be able to discount it in every way." "nonsense! where is such an aeroplane?" "within a quarter of a mile from here. to be accurate, young prescott's--you know whom i mean?" the other nodded abstractedly. "well, that youth has a monoplane that has already caused me a lot of trouble." the old man's yellow skin darkened with anger, and his blue pinpoints of eyes grew flinty. "it was partly out of revenge that i decided to start up an opposition business to his. he was in the west till a few days ago, and i never dreamed that he would return till i had secured the government contract. but i am now informed--oh, i have ears everywhere in sandy beach--that this boy and his sister, who is in a kind of partnership with him have had the audacity to offer their machine for the government tests also." "audacity," muttered mortlake under his breath, but harding's keen ears caught the remark. "it is audacity," agreed the leathern-faced old financier; "and it's audacity that we must find some way to checkmate. i've never had a business rival yet that i haven't broken into submission or crushed, and a boy and a girl are not going to outwit me now. they did it once, i admit, but this time i shall arrange things differently." "you mean----" "that i intend to cinch that government business." "but what if, as you fear, the prescotts have a superior aeroplane?" "my dear mortlake," the pin-point eyes almost closed, and the thin, bloodless lips drew together in a tight line, "if they have a superior machine, we must arrange so that nobody but ourselves is ever aware of the fact." with a throaty gurgle, that might, or might not, have been meant for a chuckle, the old man glided through the doors, which, by this time, he had reached, and sliding rather than stepping into his machine, gave the chauffeur some orders. mortlake, a peculiar expression on his face, looked after the car as it chugged off and then turned and re-entered the shop. his head was bent, and he seemed to be lost in deep thought. chapter iii. a naval visitor roy had departed, on an errand, for town. peggy, indolently enjoying the perfect drowsiness of noonday, was reclining in a gayly colored hammock suspended between two regal maple trees on the lawn. in her hand was a book. on a taboret by her side was a big pink box full of chocolates. the girl was not reading, however. her blue eyes were staring straight up through the delicate green tracery of the big maples, at the sky above. she watched, with lazy fascination, tiny white clouds drifting slowly across the blue, like tiny argosies of the heavens. her mind was far away from sandy beach and its peaceful surroundings. the young girl's thoughts were of the desert, the bleak, arid wastes of alkali, which lay so far behind them now. almost like events that had happened in another life. suddenly she was aroused from her reverie by a voice--a remarkably pleasant voice: "i beg your pardon. is this the prescott house?" "good gracious, a man!" exclaimed peggy to herself, getting out of the hammock as gracefully as she could, and with a rather flushed face. at the gate stood a rickety station hack, which had approached on the soft, dusty road almost noiselessly. just stepping out of it was a sunburned young man, very upright in carriage, and dressed in a light-gray suit, with a jaunty straw hat. he carried a bamboo cane, which he switched somewhat nervously as the pretty girl advanced toward him across the velvet-like lawn. "i am lieut. bradbury of the navy," said the newcomer, and peggy noted that his whole appearance was as pleasant and wholesome as his voice. "i came--er in response to your letter to the department, in regard to the forthcoming trials of aeroplanes for the service." "oh, yes," exclaimed peggy, smothering an inclination to giggle, "we--i--that is----" "i presume that i have called at the right place," said the young officer, with a smile. "they told me----" "oh, come in, won't you?" suddenly requested the embarrassed peggy. "the sun is fearfully hot. won't you have a straw hat--i mean a seat?" "thank you," replied lieut. bradbury, gravely sitting in a garden bench at the foot of one of the big maples. his eyes fell on the book peggy had been reading. it was a treatise on aeronautics. "it isn't possible that you are r. prescott?" he asked, glancing up quickly. "oh, no. i am only a humble helper. r. prescott is in town. he--he will be back shortly." "indeed. i had hoped to see him personally. i was anxious to inspect the prescott type of monoplane before visiting another aeroplane plant in this neighborhood, the--the----" the officer drew out a small morocco covered notebook and referred to it. "the mortlake aeroplane company," he concluded. "oh, yes. they are just down the road, within a stone's throw of here. you can see the place from here; that big barn-like structure," volunteered peggy, heartily wishing that the mortlake plant had been a hundred miles away. "indeed. that's very convenient. i shall be able to make an early train back to new york. do you suppose that mr. prescott will be long?" "i don't really know. he shouldn't be unless he is delayed. but in the meantime i can show you the aeroplane, if you wish." "ah!" the officer glanced at this girl curiously, "but you know what i particularly desired was a practical demonstration." "a flight?" "yes, if it were possible." "i think it can be arranged." "you have an aviator attached to your place, then?" peggy laughed musically. she had quite recovered from her embarrassment now. "no. i guess it's an aviatress--if there is such a word. you see i----" "you!" "oh, yes. i have flown quite a good deal recently. i think it is the most delightful sport there is." a sudden light seemed to break over the young officer. "are you miss margaret prescott, the girl aviator i have read so much about in the technical publications?" "i believe i am," smiled peggy; "but here comes my aunt, miss sallie prescott." as she spoke, miss prescott, in a soft gown of cool white material, emerged from the house. peggy went through the ceremony of introduction, after which they all directed their steps to the large shed in which the prescott machines were kept. in the meantime, old sam hickey, the gardener, and his stalwart son jerusah, had been summoned to aid in dragging out one of the aeroplanes. "we only have two on hand," explained peggy; "my brother has forwarded the others that we built to mr. james bell, the mining man. they are being used in aerial gold transportation across the nevada desert." "indeed! that is most interesting." sam hickey flung open the big doors and revealed the interior of the shed with the two scarab-like monoplanes standing within. a strong smell of gasoline and machine-oil filled the air. the officer glanced at peggy's dainty figure in astonishment. it seemed hard to associate this refined, exquisite young girl with the rough actualities of machinery and aeroplanes. [illustration: when she emerged a very business-like peggy had taken the place of the lounger in the hammock.] but peggy, with a word of excuse, dived suddenly into a small room. while she was gone, miss prescott entertained the young officer with many tales of her harrowing experiences on the nevada desert. to all of which he listened with keen attention. at least he did so to all outward appearance, but his eyes were riveted on the door through which peggy had vanished. when she emerged a very business-like peggy had taken the place of the lounger in the hammock. a linen duster, fitting tightly, covered her from top to toe. a motoring bonnet of maroon silk imprisoned her hair, and upon its rim, above her forehead, was perched a pair of goggles. gauntlets encased her hands. "looks rather too warm to be comfortable, doesn't it?" she laughed. "but we shall find it cool enough up above." "perhaps the lieutenant----" ventured miss prescott. "oh, yes. how stupid of me not to have thought of it!" exclaimed peggy. "mr. bradbury, you will find aviation togs inside there." "by jove; she knows enough not to call a naval officer 'lieutenant,'" thought the young officer, as, with a bow and a word of thanks, he vanished to equip himself for his aerial excursion. by the time he was invested in a similar long duster, with weighted seams, and had donned a cap and goggles, the larger of the two aeroplanes, named the _golden butterfly_, was ready for its passengers. old sam and his son, who had dragged it out--it moved easily on its landing wheels--stood by, their awe of the big craft showing plainly on their faces. a section of the fence had been made removable, so as to give the prescott aeroplanes a free run from their stable to the smooth slope of the meadows beyond. this was now removed, and peggy, followed by the young officer, took her place in the chassis. peggy made a pretty figure at the steering wheel. "the first improvement i should like to call your attention to," she began, in the most business-like tones she could muster up, "is the self-starter. it works by pneumatic power, and does away with the old-fashioned method of starting an aeroplane by twisting the propeller." the girl opened a valve connected with a galvanized tank, with a pressure gauge on top, and pulled back a lever. instantly, a hissing sound filled the air. then, with a dexterous movement, peggy threw in the spark and turned on the gasoline which the spark would ignite, thereby causing an explosion in the cylinders. but first the compressed air had started the motor turning over. at the right moment peggy switched on the power and cut off the air. instantly there was a roar from the exhausts and blue flames and smoke spouted from the motor. the aeroplane shook violently. it would have made an inexperienced person's teeth chatter. but both the officer and peggy were sufficiently familiar with aeroplanes for it not to bother them in the least. "magnificent!" cried the young officer enthusiastically, as he saw the ease with which the compressed air attachment set the motor to working. "it will do away with assistants to start the machine," he declared the next instant. "the importance of that in warfare can hardly be overestimated." peggy was too busy to reply. so far all had gone splendidly. if only she could carry out the whole test as well! "ready?" she asked, flinging back the word over her shoulder to lieutenant bradbury. "all ready!" came in a hearty voice from behind her. peggy, with a quick movement, threw in the clutch that started the propeller to whirring. with a drone like that of a huge night-beetle, or prehistoric thunder-lizard, the machine leaped forward as a race-horse jumps under the raised barrier. in a blur of blue smoke it skimmed through the gap in the palings. out upon the smooth meadowland it shot, roaring and smoking terrifically. and then, all at once, the jolting motion of the start ceased. it seemed as if the occupants of the chassis were riding luxuriously over a road paved with the softest of eiderdown. the sensation was delightful, exhilarating. peggy shut off the exhaust, turning the explosions of the cylinder into a muffler. in almost complete silence they winged upward. up, up, toward the fleecy clouds she had been lazily watching, but a short time before, from the hammock. the _golden butterfly_ had never done better. "you're a darling!" breathed peggy confidentially to the motor that with steady pulse drove them upward and onward. chapter iv. in a storm dwarfed to the merest midgets, the figures about the prescott house waved enthusiastically, as the golden-winged monoplane made a graceful swoop high above the elms and maples surrounding it. other figures could be glimpsed too, now, running about excitedly outside the barn-like structure housing the mortlake aeroplanes. "guess they think you are stealing a march on them," drawled lieut. bradbury. a wild, reckless feeling, born of the thrilling sensation of aerial riding, came over peggy. she would do it--she would. with a scarcely perceptible thrust of her wrist, she altered the angle of the rudder-like tail, and instantly the obedient _golden butterfly_ began racing through space toward the mortlake plant. the naval officer, quick to guess her plan, laughed as happily as a mischievous boy. "what a lark!" he exclaimed. "it's contrary to all discipline, but it's jolly good fun." peggy turned a small brass-capped valve--the timer. at once the aeroplane showed accelerated speed. it fairly cut through the air. both the occupants were glad to lower their goggles to protect their eyes from the sharp, cutting sensation of the atmosphere, as they rushed against it--into its teeth, as it were. peggy glanced at the indicator. the black pointer on the white dial was creeping up--fifty, sixty, sixty-two--she would show this officer what the prescott monoplane could do. "sixty-four! great christmas!" the exclamation came from the officer. he had leaned forward and scanned the indicator eagerly. "we'll do better when we have our new type of motor installed," said peggy, with a confident nod. the young fellow gasped. "this is the twentieth century with a vengeance," he murmured, sinking back in his rear seat, which was as comfortably upholstered as the luxurious tonneau of a five-thousand-dollar automobile. like a darting, pouncing swallow, seeking its food in mid-air, the _golden butterfly_ swooped, soared and dived in long, graceful gradients above the mortlake plant. once peggy brought the aeroplane so close to the ground in a long, swinging sweep, that it seemed as if it could never recover enough "way" to rise again. even the officer, trained in a strict school to repress his emotions, tightened his lips, and then opened them to emit a relieved gasp. so close to the gaping machinists and the anger-crimsoned mortlake did the triumphant aeroplane swoop, that peggy, to her secret amusement could trace the astonished look on the faces of the employees and the chagrined expression that darkened mortlake's countenance. "i guess i've given them something to think over," she said mischievously, flinging back a brilliant smile at the dazed young officer. "now," she exclaimed the next moment, "for a distance flight. i'm anxious to put the _golden butterfly_ through all her paces. oh, by the way, the balancer. i haven't shown you how that works yet." if peggy's bright eyes had not been veiled by goggles, the officer might have seen a mischievous gleam flash into them, like a wind ripple over the placid surface of a blue lake. suddenly the aeroplane slanted to one side, as if it must turn over. peggy had banked it on a sharp aerial curve. the young officer, in spite of himself, in defiance of his training, gave a gasp. "i say----" but the words had hardly left his lips before the aeroplane was back on a level keel once more. at the same time a rasping, sliding sound was heard. "like to see how that was done?" asked peggy, with a bewitching smile. "yes. by jove, i thought we were over for an instant. but how----" "that we shall be glad to show you when the united states government has contracted for a number of the prescott aeroplanes," retorted peggy. the young officer bit his lip. "confound it," he thought, "is this chit of a girl making fun of me?" young officers have a high idea of their own dignity. mr. bradbury colored a bit with mortification. but peggy quickly dispelled his temporary chagrin. "you see," she explained, "it would never do for us to reveal all our secrets, would it? you agree with me, don't you?" "oh, perfectly. you are quite right. still, i confess that you have aroused all my inquisitiveness." peggy being busied just then with a bit of machinery on the bulkhead separating the motor from the body of the chassis, made no reply. but presently, when she looked up, she gave a sharp exclamation. the sky, as if by magic, had grown suddenly dark. above the pulsating voice of the motor could be heard the rumble of thunder. all at once a vivid flash of lightning leaped across the horizon. one of those sudden storms of summer had blown up from the sea, and peggy knew enough of long island weather to know that these disturbances were usually accompanied by terrific winds--squalls and gusts that no aeroplane yet built or thought of could hope to cope with. "we're running into dirty weather, it seems," remarked the officer. "i thought i noticed some thunderheads away off on the horizon when we first went up." "i wish you'd mentioned them then," said the straightforward peggy; "as it is, we'll have to descend till this blows over." "what, won't even the wonderful equalizer render her safe?" "no, it won't. it will do anything reasonable. but you've no idea of the fury of the wind that comes with these black squalls." "indeed i have. last summer i was off montauk point in the _dixie_. something went wrong with the steering gear just as one of these self-same young hurricanes came bustling up. i tell you, it was "all hands and the cook" for a while. it hardly blows much harder in a typhoon." peggy gazed below her over the darkening landscape anxiously. there seemed to be trees, trees everywhere, and not a bit of cleared ground. all at once, as they cleared some woods, she spied a bit of meadowland. the hay which had covered it earlier in the summer had been cropped. it afforded an ideal landing-place. but the wind was puffy now, and peggy did not dare to attempt short descending spirals. instead, trusting to the balancing device doing its duty faithfully, she swung down in long circles. just as they touched the ground with a gentle shock, much minimized, thanks to the shock-absorbers with which the _golden butterfly_ was fitted, the storm burst in all its fury. bolt after bolt of vivid lightning ripped and tore across the darkened sky, which hung like a pall behind the terrific electrical display. the rain came down in torrents. "just in time," laughed the young officer, as he aided peggy in dragging the aeroplane under the shelter of an open cart-shed. it was quite snug and dry once they had it under the roof. a short distance off stood a farm-house of fairly comfortable appearance. smoke issuing from one of its chimneys showed that it was occupied. "let's go over there and see if we can dry our things," suggested peggy. "i'm wet through." "same here," was the laughing reply; "but a sailor doesn't mind that. one actually gets webbed feet in the navy--like ducks, you know." ignoring this remarkable contribution to natural history, peggy gathered up her skirts daintily and fled across the meadow to the farm-house. it was only a few hundred feet, but the rain came down so hard that both she and her escort were wetter than ever by the time they arrived at the door. it was shut, and except for the lazy wisps of smoke issuing from the chimney, there was no sign of life about the place. the lieutenant knocked thunderously. no answer. "try again," said peggy; "maybe they are in some other part of the house." "perhaps they were scared of the aeroplane and have all retired into hiding," suggested mr. bradbury. he rapped again, louder this time, but still no reply. "they must all be asleep," he said, applying himself once more to a thunderous assault on the door, but to no avail. a silence hung about the place, broken only by the roar and rattle of the thunder. "it's positively uncanny," shuddered peggy. "it's like red riding hood and the three little bears." "one would think that even a bear would open the door on such an occasion as this," said her companion, redoubling his efforts to attract attention. finally he gave the door handle a twist. it yielded, and the door was speedily found to be unlocked. the officer shoved it open and disclosed a neat farm-house kitchen. in a newly blackened stove, which fairly shone, was a blazing fire. an old clock ticked sturdily in one corner. the floor was scrubbed as white as snow, and on a shelf above the shining stove was an array of gleaming copper pans that gladdened peggy's housewifely heart. "what a dear of a place!" she exclaimed. "but where are the folks who own it?" "haven't the least idea," said the officer gayly; "but that stove looks inviting to me. let's get over to it and get dried out a bit. then we can commence to investigate." "but, really, you know, we've not the least right in here. suppose they mistake us for burglars, and shoot us?" "not much danger of that. they'd shoot me first, anyhow, because i'm the most burglarious looking of the two. queer, though, where they all can be." "it's worse than queer--it's weird. good gracious!" exclaimed peggy, as a sudden thought struck her, "suppose there should be trapdoors?" "trapdoors!" her companion was plainly puzzled. "yes. you know in most books when two folks run across a deserted farm-house there's always a trapdoor or a ghost or something. suppose----good heavens, what's that?" from without had come a most peculiar sound. a whirring, like the noise one would suppose would be occasioned by a gigantic locust. then something--a huge, indefinite shadow--darkened the windows of the farm-house kitchen. peggy gave a shrill squeal of alarm, while lieut. bradbury gallantly ran to the door and flung it open. chapter v. peggy a heroine. "it's--it's another aeroplane!" cried the officer, with a shout of amazement. "what!" peggy sprang to her feet. "a large red one?" "yes. come here and look. they're just running it under the same shed as ours--yours, i mean." the girl aviator sprang toward the door. through the rain she peered to where, across the meadow, two dim figures, clad in oilskins, could be seen shoving a big aeroplane under the same shelter that already protected the _golden butterfly_. "well, if this isn't the ultimate!" she gasped. "i beg your pardon?" asked the young man at her side. "the ultimate! that's my way of expressing what the boys call 'the limit.' why, that's jess and jimsy bancroft, in their new aeroplane--the one roy built for them. well, did you ever! oh, jess! oh, jimsy!" peggy raised her voice and shouted. in response they saw the oil-skinned figures turn, and through the driving downpour came an answering shout. presently, across the dripping meadows, the two figures began advancing. all this time the lightning was ripping in a manner to make peggy shield her eyes occasionally. the thunder, too, was terrific, and the earth seemed to vibrate to its rolling detonations. "well, peggy!" gasped jess, her dark eyes peering from under her waterproof hood, as she and her brother arrived at the threshold of the farm-house, "what on earth does this mean?" "yes, give an account of yourself at once," demanded jimsy. "roy had us on the phone. asked if you'd flown in our direction. we said no, but we'd take a flight and look for you. in our enthusiasm, we didn't notice the storm coming up. but luckily, being young persons of forethought, we had oilskins in a locker of the machine, and----" "and here we are," finished jess, shooting a "killing" glance from under her hood at the good-looking young man at peggy's side. "aren't you going to ask us in?" demanded jimsy the next minute. "for hospitality, i don't think you rate very high. we----" "well, you see, we are here ourselves without knowing if we have any right to be," rejoined peggy. "but come in and i'll explain. first of all, i want you to meet mr. bradbury of the united states navy. he came to test the prescott aeroplanes. mr. bradbury, this is miss bancroft, and her brother----" "jimsy," put in that irrepressible youth. "glad to meet you, sir. almost as much at sea here as in mid-atlantic." laughing, they all entered the farm-house kitchen, while peggy hastily explained the state of affairs there. "well, so long as they don't put in an appearance before we get dry, i'm sure i don't care," said jimsy airily. "what a delightful old kitchen. it might have come out of a picture book." he and the naval officer were soon deep in conversation, leaving peggy and jess alone. "my dear peggy," exclaimed jess, with a smile that showed all her white even teeth, "what will you do next? don't you think it's a bit--er--er--unconventional for one of the foremost members of sandy beach's younger set to be flying about the country with a good-looking young naval officer?" "nonsense," retorted peggy sharply, "as the only representative of the prescott aeroplanes on the ground, i had to do it. if it hadn't been for this old storm, i'd have been home long ago." "so should we. what a coincidence we should have met here. is this--this----" "lieutenant," prompted peggy. "is this lieutenant going to stay long in sandy beach?" "dear me, no. he is only on a flying visit--no pun intended. he was to have taken in the establishment of the mortlake aeroplane company this afternoon. you know, they are in that red, barn-like place, down the road from our place, although roy and i only found it out to-day." "that was one of the things i wanted to talk to you about, peggy dear," said jess, sinking into an old-fashioned andrew jackson chair by the hearth. "dad said at dinner last night that he had heard in new york that a lot of their stock had been floated on wall street, and that that hateful old mr. harding was back of it." "they are actually selling stock?" asked peggy, growing a bit pale. "yes. they have half-page advertisements in a lot of papers, i believe. dad said so. but why do you look so distressed, peggy?" "because they must be very sure of the merits of their machines, if they are going ahead so confidently." "rumor has it that their make of aeroplane is the most up-to-date and complete yet constructed, but nobody knows the details so far. they have kept that part of it close." "they are making a bid for the navy contracts, at any rate," said peggy presently, after a pause, during which both girls winked and blinked at the lightning and stared at the red glow of the fire. "so you said. but you stole a march on them by kidnapping your lieutenant in this way." "you ought to give the weather credit for that," laughed peggy, "but seriously, jess, there is no sentiment in things of this kind. if the mortlake machine is a better machine than ours, the mortlake will be the type adopted by the government." "i suppose that's so," agreed jess, with a wry face. "but i hate to think of that old harding creature getting any----" the door flew open suddenly, and a tall, thin-faced woman in a raincoat, and holding up an umbrella, stood in the doorway. "well, for the land's sake!" she ejaculated, looking fairly dumfounded, as she comprehended the scene and the young folks enjoying the unrequested hospitality of her kitchen. but the words had hardly left her lips, and she was still standing there, like an image carved from stone, when a fearful light illumined the whole scene. it was followed almost instantaneously by a clap of thunder so deafening that the girls involuntarily quailed before it. a fiery ball darted from the chimney and sped across the room, exploding in fragments with a terrific noise on the opposite side, just above the heads of jimsy and lieut. bradbury. stunned by the shock, they both collapsed in heaps on the floor, while the farm woman's shrieks filled the air. at the same instant, a pungent, sinister odor filled the atmosphere. "the house is on fire!" shrieked the woman in a frenzied voice. smoke rolled down into the room, and the acrid fumes grew sharper. "the house is on fire, and my baby is up-stairs!" "where?" demanded peggy. "in the room above this!" groaned the woman, taking a few steps and then fainting. "jess," cried peggy in a tense voice, "take that bucket and get water from that pump in the corner and then follow me." "but the boys!" gasped jess. "they are only stunned. i saw jimsy's arm move just now, and the lieutenant is breathing." with these words, she started from the room, darting up a narrow stairway leading from one end of the kitchen to the upper regions. "what are you going to do?" shouted jess, her voice shaky with alarm. "save that child if i can," flung back peggy, plunging bravely up the smoke-laden stairway. in the unfamiliar house, and half blinded and choked by smoke and sulphurous fumes, peggy had a hard task before her. but she pluckily plunged forward, feeling her way by the walls, and keeping her head low, where the smoke was not so thick. as she reached what she deemed was the top of the staircase, she thought she heard a tiny voice crying out in alarm. following the direction of the sounds, she staggered along a hallway and then reeled into an open door. the smoke was not so thick in the room, but its fumes were heavy enough. in a crib in one corner lay a child of about two years of age. its rose-leaf of a face was wrinkled up in its efforts to make its terrified little voice heard. peggy darted upon it and hugged it close to her. then, with renewed courage, she started to make her way back again. but more smoke than ever was rolling along the passage, and it was a hard task. "i must do it--i must," peggy kept saying to herself, clinging the while to the terrified child. but at the head of the staircase the conditions appalled her. the smoke was thick as a blanket there. yet plunge through it, peggy knew she must. still holding the child tightly, she bravely entered the dense smother, stooping as low as she dared. but before she had taken more than two steps in the obscurity, a dreadful feeling, as if a hand was at her throat and choking her, overcame the girl. she tried to call out, but she could not. her head was reeling, her eyes blinded. all at once something in her head seemed to snap with a loud report. still clutching her little burden tightly, peggy plunged forward dizzily--and knew no more. chapter vi. farmer galloway's "safe deposit." when she came to herself again, it was in a confusion of voices and sounds of hurrying footsteps. she was lying on a lounge in a stuffy "best" parlor, which smelled as moldy as "best" parlors in farm-houses are wont to do. bending over her was the angular woman who had entered just as the bolt of lightning, that had caused all the trouble, struck the house. "is--is the baby all right?" asked peggy, as she took in her surroundings. "yes, thanks to you, my dear. oh, how can i ever thank you?" exclaimed the woman, a thrill of real gratitude in her voice. "and the fire is out, too. my husband and his men had been at work in a distant field and were sheltering themselves under a shed. i had just taken some water to them when the storm broke. when they saw the big flash and heard the crash, they knew that something right around the house must have been struck. they ran through the storm as fast as they could, and got here in time to put out the flames." "and jess and jimsy and----" "and that other young fellow? why, they----" "never felt better in their lives," came jimsy's cheerful voice from the door, which framed, beside himself, jess, and the young naval officer. "the first time i was ever knocked out by lightning," declared the latter, "and really it's quite invigorating." jess glided across the room to peggy's side and threw her arms about her neck. "oh, peggy, how brave and good you are!" she exclaimed. "i was dreadfully frightened, when you came plunging down through that smoke. i was just trying to make my way through it with a bucket, when you came toppling down the stairs. i managed to catch you and support you into the kitchen." "i think some one else is the bravest," smiled peggy, patting her chum's shoulder. "i'm so glad that the baby wasn't hurt. poor little thing, it looked so cute in its crib. i remember seizing it up and then the smoke came, and after a few minutes it all got black and----" "and all's well that ends well," declared jimsy, capering about. "we've telephoned to your home to roy, peggy, and he'll be over in a short time with an auto." "but what about the _butterfly_?" asked peggy. "my dear girl," announced jimsy, in his most pompous tones, "it would be impossible for you to guide her home this evening. your nerves would not stand it. see, it's come out quite fine, now, after the storm, and roy will spin you home in the machine in no time." "perhaps that would be best," agreed peggy. "and i can come out, or roy can, to-morrow, and get the aeroplane--that is," she added, turning to the farm woman, "if it won't be in your way." "if you had a thousand of them air-buggies around here, miss, they wouldn't be in our way," came in a hearty, gruff tone from the door. they looked up to see a big farmer-like looking person, with a fringe of black whiskers running under his chin in a half-moon, standing there. "this is my husband, isaac galloway," said the woman, introducing the owner of the farm. "at your service, gents and ladies," said the farmer. "what that young woman did fer us ter-day ther' ain't no way of repaying; but anything ike galloway kin do any time ye kin count on him fer." he moved toward an object they had not previously noticed, an iron door in the wall. turning a knob this way and that, he presently flung it open, revealing the inside of a wall safe. thrusting his hand inside, he drew out a bundle of bills. then, closing the door again, and adjusting the combination, he said: "jes' goin' ter give ther boys a bit of thank you fer helpin' me put out ther fire. if any of you folks would like----" "oh, no. no, thank you," laughed peggy, sitting up and feeling, except for a slight dizziness, almost herself again. "very well; no harm meant," said the farmer, as he shuffled out of the room and into the kitchen, where he distributed his largess. "quite an idea," commented jimsy, regarding the wall safe. "i suppose you have quite a lot of money on hand at times, and it is safest to keep it so," he added, addressing the farmer's wife. "yep," was the rejoinder; "ike got his money fer his corn crop ther other day--two thousand dollars, what with ther corn and ther early apples. it's all in thar, except what he's jes' took out." "aren't you afraid of burglars coming and blowing the door of the safe off?" asked peggy. "lands sakes, no. we'd hear 'em. besides, that's a patent safe, an' if it is opened without a knowledge of the combination, it would take a plaguey long time to do." just then the farmer came back, and after some more general conversation the whir of an approaching automobile announced the arrival of roy. the lad was naturally much interested in the doings of the afternoon, as excitedly related to him by everybody at once, and was favorably impressed with the young naval officer. of course, he did not ask him his opinion of the prescott aeroplane, but from remarks lieut. bradbury dropped, roy gathered that he was much pleased with its performance. soon afterward jess and jimsy shot skyward, in the now still air, in their red aeroplane--the _red dragon fly_, as it had been christened, and amid warm farewells from the farmer and his wife, the auto buzzed off. they had traversed a mile or more, when, on rounding a corner at a narrow part of the road, they came almost head-on against another machine coming in the opposite direction. both cars were compelled to slow down, so that the occupants had a good view of each other. both roy and peggy were considerably astonished to see that the oncoming auto was occupied by old mr. harding, and that by his side was seated none other than the blue-chinned man, known as eugene mortlake. "where can they be going?" wondered roy, as old man harding favored them with a scowl in passing, and then both cars resumed their normal speed. "i noticed that this is a private road leading only to that farm," rejoined peggy; "the right-of-way ends there." "then that must be their destination, for there are no other houses on this road." "looks that way," assented roy. "queer, isn't it?" "very," responded peggy. for some inexplicable reason, as the girl spoke, a chill ran through her. she felt a dull sense of foreboding. but the next minute she shook it off. after all, why shouldn't mr. harding and mortlake be driving to the farm? mr. harding's financial dealings comprised mortgages in every part of the island. it was quite probable that the farmer was in some way involved in the old man's nets. possibly that was the reason of all that money being stored in the wall safe. refusing courteously an invitation extended by miss prescott to spend the night at the homestead, lieut. bradbury was driven to the station by roy, after they had dropped peggy, and just managed to make a new york train. "i shall be back to-morrow," he said, "and have a look at mortlake's machines. of course, the government wants to give everybody a fair field and no favors." "oh, of course," assented roy, pondering in his own mind what sort of a machine this mysterious mortlake craft was. suddenly there flashed across his mind a thought that had not occurred to him hitherto. the _golden butterfly_ had been left under the shed at the farm. what was there to prevent harding and mortlake from examining it and acquainting themselves with the intricacies of the self-starting mechanism and the automatic balancing device? there was no question that the farm must have been their destination. roy blamed himself bitterly for not foreseeing this. he had half a mind to return to the farm and bring the aeroplane home himself. but it was growing dark, and a distant rumble seemed to presage the return of the afternoon's storm. "anyhow," the boy thought, and the thought consoled him, "all those devices are covered by patents, and even if they wanted to, they could not steal them. and yet--and yet----" but the storm came up sharper than ever that evening, and even had he wished to, roy would have found it impossible to handle the aeroplane alone in the heavy wind that came now in puffs and now in a steady gale. so roy put his tiresome thoughts out of his head. but he resolved to get the aeroplane the first thing the following morning. chapter vii. a case for the authorities. it was just after breakfast the next morning that a big automobile skimmed past the prescott home. peggy and roy saw it from the windows. "why, that's sheriff lawley," exclaimed peggy. "and look, old mr. harding is with him, and that mortlake man." "that's right. wonder where they can be going?" said roy, sauntering out to the garage at the back of the house and giving the matter little more thought. it had been arranged that he was to bring the aeroplane back that morning, driving over with peggy, jimsy and jess in the car, and skimming home in the _butterfly_ while a part of the party brought the car back. they were to call for jess and jimsy at their home, a fine residence overlooking the sound from a lofty hill. jess and jimsy were waiting for them, and, almost before the car had stopped, they were at its side. "heard the news?" asked jimsy breathlessly. "no. what is it?" demanded peggy eagerly. "why, that safe at the farm-house was robbed last night. all the money was taken, and they have no clue to the thief." "how did you hear of it?" asked roy incredulously. peggy had told him of the queer wall safe. "the 'central' told one of the servants and she told jess. strange, isn't it?" "it is odd," agreed roy. "but if people will keep their money in such places, it is hardly surprising if they lose it. did you hear any details?" "no, but no doubt we shall when we reach the farm-house," put in jess; "isn't it thrilling, though?" "not very thrilling for poor galloway, who lost the money," said peggy. "i expect he didn't make it any too easily." on their arrival at the galloway farm-house, the young people found a scene of great excitement. the sheriff, red-faced and important, was examining several farm hands beneath one of the big elms, while in the background stood the farmer and his wife, looking somewhat perplexed, as well as worried. as the prescott auto drove up, old mr. harding, in his usual rusty black suit, rose from his seat under the elm, and whispered something to the sheriff. the blue-chinned, thick-necked mortlake arose also. all three turned and gazed curiously at the young occupants of the car, as it slowed down. "good morning, mr. and mrs. galloway," cried peggy. "we were dreadfully sorry to hear of your loss. have you any clue yet?" there was something curiously cold in the woman's voice, as she replied in the negative. her husband looked sullen and merely nodded. the sheriff now rose and came toward the machine. he knew all the young folks and greeted them briefly. at his heels pressed old harding and his companion. they whispered in the sheriff's ear as he advanced, and seemed to be urging him to something. "i understand that you folks was in this house yesterday afternoon?" began the sheriff abruptly. "why, yes, during the storm," said peggy. "there was lieut. bradbury, of the united states navy----" harding and mortlake exchanged annoyed glances. this was confirmation of their fears. "yes, go on," urged the sheriff. "and myself, and mr. bancroft here and his sister, and later my brother came." "do you recall the safe being opened while you were in the room? i presume from the remark you made when you drove up that you know of the robbery." "we heard of it at the bancroft's, but we don't know the details." "that is not necessary. answer my questions, please. who was in the parlor beside yourself when mr. galloway opened the wall safe to reward the men who had helped him extinguish the fire?" "why, jimsy--i mean mr. bancroft--his sister and lieut. bradbury, beside, of course, mr. and mrs. galloway." "what! your brother was not there?" "certainly not. he didn't come till later." "then your brother didn't see the safe opened?" "of course not," struck in roy. "i was here only a very brief time. but what does all this mean? i don't understand." "it means that you are cleared of a grave suspicion," said the sheriff. "mr. harding and mrs. galloway's brother, mr. mortlake, here----" "her brother!" exclaimed peggy in an undertone. the sheriff went on: "seemed to have an idea that roy prescott was here at the time. they even went so far as to intimate that----" but old mr. harding was tugging frantically at the sheriff's arm. he was seconded by mortlake. interpreting the signals aright, he stopped short. "in fact, it looked suspicious," he concluded lamely. he turned and went off, followed by harding and mortlake. "how did you ever come to make such a mistake?" snarled old harding, as they walked away much crestfallen, "we haven't a leg to stand on, now." "why, confound it all," retorted mortlake, "my sister mentioned a young man being with the girl in the aeroplane, and i took it for granted that it was her brother." "and a nice mess you've got us both into, with your 'taking it for granted,'" snorted the old miserly financier of sandy beach. "it looks as if we'd got ourselves in a trap now." "nonsense. who's to know we have the money? i'll take the first opportunity to send it back, and no more will be heard of the matter. lucky i didn't hide it in his aeroplane, as i intended to do." "yes; but we've still got the cub as our rival. i wish i could think of some plan to choke him off. that scheme of yours to blame the robbery on him would have been all right if you'd only made sure of your facts first." "don't worry. our chance will come yet. i'll make that whole outfit regret bitterly that they ever stole a march on us by kidnapping that officer." "to have discredited him with the navy would have been the best way, however," said old harding brusquely. "i'll find a way to do that yet," mortlake promised. in the meantime, speculation and wonder had ruled among the occupants of roy's auto. everything seemed very much muddled, but one fact stood out clearly, and that was that an attempt had been made to cast suspicion, if not the actual guilt of the robbery, upon roy. for what object? "i have it," cried peggy suddenly. "if they could have placed roy under a cloud of suspicion, it would have worked to his discredit with the naval authorities, and might have resulted in our aeroplane being denied a place in the trials. that seems plain enough." they all agreed that it did. but jimsy said suddenly: "if that was the case, why didn't they try to make out that i stole it?" "because--forgive me jimsy--you're not roy. without him, the tests of the prescott aeroplane could hardly be conducted. unless----" "unless a certain young person named peggy prescott undertook to take charge of them," cried jess loyally. "don't be foolish, jess," warned peggy; "but look, here is mrs. galloway coming to speak to us." the farmer's wife approached the automobile, from which none of the party had as yet alighted. she was followed by her husband. both began apologizing profusely for the questions of the sheriff. "but land's sakes alive," exclaimed the farmer's wife, "i declar ter goodness, we've bin so flustered thet i don' know no more than a wet hen. my brother, that's mr. mortlake, was dead sot on it bein' one of you folks, but i knew that was reediculous." they hardly knew whether to be angry or to laugh at the woman's blunt frankness. but roy struck in with a question: "wasn't mr. mortlake, accompanied by harding, out here last night?" "why, yes," said the woman, with perfect candor. "they stayed quite a while. harding hed some business with ike, an'----" "an' gene mortlake said he'd like ter hev a look at yer aeroplane. yer know he's in thet thar business hisself," volunteered ike confidentially. peggy felt as if she could have groaned aloud. roy's fears, earlier confided to her, seemed to have been based on a true presentiment. the blue-jowled mortlake had undoubtedly improved his opportunity to study the _golden butterfly_ at close range. the farmer's next words confirmed her. "reckon he was powerful interested, too," the farmer went on, "fer he made a lot uv ther nicest droorings you ever seen, an'--why, what's the trouble?" for roy, hardly knowing what he intended to do, had jumped from the machine and was sprinting toward the harding car. but, as he neared it, the old financier, who with mortlake was already seated in the tonneau, spoke a word in the chauffeur's ear, and the machine dashed off, leaving roy enraged and nonplussed. "too bad, roy," breathed peggy, as, rather crestfallen, the lad returned. "oh, i don't know, sis. even if they hadn't sneaked off like that, and i'd caught the machine, i guess i'd have been like the dog that chased the train. i wouldn't have known what to do with it when i got it." "but roy, their flight confirms their guilt!" "i know, sis, but what possible way have we to prove it? the rascals have covered up their tracks cleverly." a sudden thought struck peggy, and she turned to the farmer. "did any of those bills have an identifying mark on it?" she asked. the farmer shook his head. but mrs. galloway had a better memory. "why, yes, ike," she exclaimed; "that twenty-dollar-bill you got frum si. giddens fer ther baldwins. i re'klect thet it hed a big round o in red ink marked on ther back uv it. it was a bit rubbed out, an' hard ter see, but ef you knew it wuz thar an' luked fer it, you could see it plain enough." after inquiring about the baby, whose thankful mother declared it to be as well as ever, roy and jimsy dragged out the _golden butterfly_ and boarded it. it had been arranged that the two girls were to spin back to town in the car, the aeroplane following them as closely as possible from above. as they chugged out of the farm-yard gate and on to the rough road, peggy's thoughts kept time to the rhythmic pulsations of the motor: "a-twenty-dollar-bill-with-a-red-round-o. a-twenty-dollar-bill-with-a-red-round-o." chapter viii. mr. mortlake loses some drawings. dashing along the rough country road, with every sense on the alert, peggy found mental occupation enough to drive gloomier thoughts from her mind. the prescott's car was a good one, with a powerful, sixty-horse motor, and splendidly upholstered. it was painted a dark blue, and was known in the surrounding country as "the blue bird." it had been purchased with the money made by the brother and sister from their shares in james bell's desert mine. far above them sailed the aeroplane, its two occupants from time to time waving at their pretty sisters below. but in the upper-air currents, it would have been dangerous to drive at a pace slow enough to keep level with the automobile, and so the aeroplane soon dashed on ahead. from time to time, however, it made circles and swoops, which brought it sometimes in seemingly dangerous closeness to the tree-tops. all at once peggy stopped the automobile with a jerk which almost threw jess, who was unprepared for the shock, out of the car. "good gracious, peggy, what are you trying to do?" she gasped. "look!" cried peggy, pointing with wide eyes. in the center of the road lay a rolled-up bundle of papers secured with a rubber band. "somebody has dropped something from another auto or a wagon," cried jess. "i think so," said peggy in excited tones, as she descended from the car, "and i've an idea that these papers have been dropped from mr. harding's car. it must have been the only one to pass here recently, as this road runs direct to the farm and nowhere else." she stooped down in the road and picked up the bundle and then, with a beating heart, she opened it. but for an inward intuition of what its contents would prove to be, peggy, with her rigid ideas of honor, could not have brought herself to do this. as her eyes fell on the first sheet, and she saw that it was covered with annotations and sketches, she gave a little cry. "oh, jess! the luck! the wonderful, wonderful luck!" "why, what is it? a bundle of thousand-dollar bills, or----" "it isn't that or anything," cried peggy; "it's--oh, jess--it's the sketches and plans of our aeroplane that mortlake and his accomplice harding were spiriting away." "they must have dropped them from their automobile," said jess. "or, more likely, from the pockets of one of them. see, the ground is trampled about here. it looks to me as if they had had a break-down, and were fixing it when the papers fell out and were left behind unnoticed. oh, what a bit of luck! if they had had those papers, it would have meant----" a shrill cry from jess interrupted her. at the same moment peggy became conscious of a presence behind her. she wheeled sharply and found herself facing two bloated-faced individuals, one of whom carried a heavy cudgel. their clothes and broken boots, and their leering, odious appearance at once proclaimed them of the genus tramp. "waal!" growled one of the men, with an ugly leer, "we didn't hardly expec' ter run inter such luck ez this. foun' suthin' vallerable, hev yer? reckin' it must hev bin dropped by that auto that jes' went round the corner beyond. we'll hev ter trouble you for it, miss." he held out a filthy hand, while peggy, with a beating heart, fell back toward the car. "frum what we hearn' yer sayin', i guess the papers is vallerable, all right," chimed in the first speaker's companion. "come on, now. fork over. you know it ain't honest ter take wot don't berlong ter ye, an' by yer own confession them papers don't." "what right have you to demand them?" asked peggy boldly enough, despite her inward terror; "you had better go on at once, or----" "waal, or what?" sneered the other. "we've got ye here on a lonely road. you can't escape us. come on, hand over them papers. we'll see that ther rightful owners git 'em, and that we git er reward beside. see?" peggy's reply was to leap nimbly into the machine. but to her horror the two tramps followed instantly. jess cowered back in her seat. her pale lips moved, but she said nothing. "tell yer wot," burst out the man with the club, "you gals give us ten bones a piece--the money don't mean much to folks like you--an' we'll let yer go. if not----" a sudden inspiration came to peggy--a flash of recollection. "why didn't you say that before?" she said cheerfully. "i'll be glad to give you the money. wait a minute while i get it out." she raised the cushion of the front "bucket seat," and dived beneath it with one hand. the men watched her with greedy, yet suspicious eyes. "ain't tryin' ter fool us, are yer?" growled one of them, "'cos ef you air----" he raised his club threateningly, just as peggy's hand withdrew from beneath the cushion. something bright flashed in it. "look out, mike. she's got a gun!" shouted one of the men, falling back. the other whipped a hand amidst his rags and was just about to aim a pistol, when: "phiz-z-z-z-z-z-z-z!" from the shiny object peggy held in her hand, a fine stream of some sort of liquid jetted forcibly. the fellow with the gun threw his hands up to his face, and dropping the pistol, staggered back with a howl of agony. the other darted off without even looking at him. the air was filled with a pungent scent of ammonia, and a quiet smile of triumph curled peggy's red lips as she started the car in motion once more. "oh, peggy, how brave you are!" gasped jess. "whatever was that you used? i hope the poor man isn't badly hurt, although he was so horrid." "i just remembered in time, jess dear," said peggy, as she sped the car along, "that we had under the seat an ammonia pistol for use on vicious dogs. i used it on another sort of a dog, that's all, and it proved equally effective." just at this moment peggy turned out to avoid another car that was approaching them from the opposite direction. in a second she saw that it carried harding and mortlake. they both looked angry and blank. peggy guessed at once that they had discovered their loss. but she resolved not to stop unless they did and asked questions. she felt that such a despicable act as they had attempted to perpetrate deserved no help on her part. "hey, there!" shouted old mr. harding, as his car was slowed down by the chauffeur. "hey, stop! i want to speak to you!" "he's polite about it, isn't he?" whispered jess. "are you going to tell him, peggy?" "cer-tain-ly not," rejoined peggy, with a tightening of her lips. "why should i? he tried to fasten a theft on my brother this morning, and then caps the climax by instigating mortlake to try to steal the ideas of our aeroplane." "hey, girls, seen a package on the road?" bawled old mr. harding, as peggy slowed up and stopped. "i recovered some of my own property, if that is what you mean," said peggy slowly, a dull flush rising to her cheeks. "well--well! what d'ye mean by that, hey? what d'ye mean by that?" "you may construe it any way you wish to, mr. harding," was the cold rejoinder, and to avoid further questioning, peggy sped up her machine, and soon vanished in a cloud of dust. the old financier turned to his companion with a look of disgusted amazement. "what d'ye think of that, hey, mortlake?" he snapped out. "what d'ye think of that? fine young girls, eh? nice products of the twentieth century, hey?" "oh, let's get on and see if we can't find that roll of papers somewhere along here," rejoined mortlake impatiently. "i don't think it's likely they could have seen it. it must have fallen from my pocket where the car broke down and i got out." "hey? oh, yes, yes. that's it. drive on, tom. drive us to where the car broke down." in a few seconds they reached the spot just in time to see the two tramps who had molested the girls making off. "there they go!" shouted mortlake, "those fellows must have found them. i wouldn't lose those sketches for a thousand dollars. put on more speed, tom, and overtake them." the chauffeur did as he was bid, and the car leaped ahead. in a few chugs it had reached the tramps' side, they having stopped, bewildered, in the meantime. "why, blow me, bill," said one to the other, as the car came up, "if it ain't the self-same gents as drove down the road a while ago." "give me those papers, you rascals!" shouted mortlake, almost flinging himself out of the car, "give them to me or----" "hold your horses, guv'ner! hold your hosses," counseled the hobo who had received the dose of ammonia, and whose eyes were still red from its effects. "wot papers might you be lookin' fer?" asked this fellow cautiously, although he knew very well. "a bundle of papers i dropped," panted mortlake. "didn't you find them." "naw!" grunted the red-eyed tramp. "naw!" echoed the other. "be careful what you say. if you are lying, it will go hard with you." the warning came from old mr. harding. "we know that, guv'ner. but we ain't got 'em. search us, if yer like." the knights of the road spread their arms to signify their willingness to be searched. mortlake groaned. it was evident that neither of the tatterdermalions had the papers. but what had become of them? in his distress and chagrin, mortlake gave an audible groan. this the tramps seemed to construe as a favorable sign. one winked to the other, and the red-eyed one spoke. "wots it worth if we tell yer where them papers are, guv'ners both?" "what, you know!" cried mortlake, while old mr. harding spluttered: "eh, eh? hey, what's all this? what's all this?" "i didn't say we knew," was the cunning reply. "i said what's it worth if we did know." mortlake drew out a yellow-backed bill. "is this enough?" he asked. the tramps' eyes rounded as they gazed at the figure. "perfec'ly satisfactory, guv'ner," said red eyes. "well, where are those papers, then?" snapped mortlake impatiently. "thet thar purty gal wot jest went by in an autermobubble has 'em." "what!" "yes. we saw her pick them up out of the road. we tried to convince her it was dishonest to keep 'em, but she wouldn't listen to us." "you've done well, and seem to be bright fellows," said mortlake, handing over the bill to red eyes, who seemed to be the leader of the two, "by the way, you don't belong about here, do you?" "oh, no, guv'ner. our homes is whar we hangs our hats. my permanent address is care of the 'dicky birds.'" "well, i may have some work for you to do----" "work, guv'ner? work's only for the workmen." "i know all that, but this work is on your own line. i'll pay well, too. if you want to talk it over, come to the mortlake aeroplane factory, outside sandy beach at ten o'clock to-night. i'll be there to meet you." "all right, guv'ner; we'll be, thar. till then we'll bid yer 'oliver oil,' as ther french say. come on, joey." the worthy pair shuffled off up the road, while mortlake turned to harding with a shrug. "there are two tools made to our hand. we may find them very useful." "i agree with you," was the dry and rasping reply; "at least, they have put us in possession of one valuable bit of knowledge, hey?" chapter ix. the flight of the "silver cobweb." a week rolled slowly by. a week of suspense, during which they had one or two calls from lieut. bradbury, who had been busy down at the mortlake plant. but the officer was naturally noncommittal concerning his opinion of the comparative merits of the two types of aeroplanes. equally naturally, of course, the young prescotts had not questioned him concerning them. but during this week they had had a glimpse of the mortlake machine in flight. one still, breathless morning, the air had been filled, soon after dawn, with a vibrant buzzing sound, which peggy's trained ear had recognized as the song of an aeroplane engine. she hastened to her brother's room and rapped upon the door. in reply to his sleepy query, the girl rapidly told him of what she had heard. roy's window faced on the road, and a glance satisfied him that the mortlake machine was to have its first try-out. hastily as he dressed, however, he found that peggy was before him on the dewy lawn, field glasses in hand. down the road could be seen, in front of the mortlake plant, a small crowd of mechanics with one or two dominant figures moving among them. with the glasses, they had no difficulty in making out mortlake's heavy-shouldered figure, and the slender, upright form of lieut. bradbury. all at once the group opened up a bit and they saw a silvery, glittering aeroplane, agleam with new aluminum paint, throbbing and vibrating, as if anxious to be off. blue smoke eddied up as the motor roared and whirred. the air seemed to vibrate under the sound as if a battery of gatling guns had been discharged. fascinated, brother and sister watched the spectacle intently. they saw mortlake clamber heavily into the machine, followed by lieut. bradbury. a mechanic started for the front of the plane and began swinging the propeller. "at least they haven't cribbed our self-starting device," exclaimed peggy, as she saw. the next instant the propeller became a whirring blur, and the aeroplane, after a brief preliminary run, began to climb upward. the morning sun caught its silvered planes and turned them to gold. it was a beautiful and inspiring sight. even with all that lay at stake, peggy and roy could not deny the machine a meed of praise. it was fairy-like in its delicacy of construction, and speedy as a flash. thundering like an express train, it dashed above the prescott home, leaving in its wake the pungent odor of burning castor-oil--the most suitable lubricant for aeroplanes. then suddenly--as if a recollection of peggy's mischievous flight of a few days previously had occurred to him--mortlake swung the delicate silvery machine about and dashed straight down at the boy and girl standing by the garden gate. so close to their heads did he skim in his desire to show off, that he almost came too low. for one instant it looked as if the machine would be dashed to a premature end, but it recovered buoyancy like a keeled-over racing yacht, and tore upward into the sky at an increased speed. "let's get out the _golden butterfly_ and follow the----" "_silver cobweb!_" cried roy, the name occurring to him in a flash of inspiration as he watched the filmy outlines of the other aeroplane melt in the distance. "oh, roy, what a pretty name." "isn't it? but somehow, i like _golden butterfly_ best. our machine may be a bit heavier, but solidity counts in hard service." scarcely ten minutes later, and while mortlake's mechanics and assistants were still craning their necks skyward, another aeroplane, a yellow adventurer of the skies, thundered upward. not to be outdone by mortlake, roy, who was at the wheel, swooped above the rival crowd. they did not take it with a good grace. remarks, of which they could not catch the wording, but only the menacing intonation, were hurled upward at them. they received them with a laugh and a wave of the hand, which did not put the mortlake crowd into any better humor. and then, with a graceful, swinging curve, that banked the machine almost on its beam ends, they were up, off and away in pursuit of the _silver cobweb_, which, by this time, was a mere shoe-button of a dot on the horizon. "do you think we can overhaul her, roy?" ventured peggy, as they raced through the air, the fresh breath of morning coming refreshingly in their faces. "not a chance," admitted roy cheerfully, "but they'll turn after a while, i guess, and then we'll try the _butterfly_ against the _cobweb_." but they kept on and on unrelentingly, and still there was no sign of diminution of speed on the part of the _silver cobweb_. nor did the other aircraft give any indication that she was preparing to put about. below them, farms, meadows, villages and crowds of wondering country folk swam by in an ever-changing panorama. the earth beneath them looked like a big saucer divided up into brown, red and green squares, with tiny fly-like dots running and walking about. all at once roy gave a shout and pointed. dead ahead, and not more than a few miles distant, lay a silvery, gleaming streak. "the sea!" the exclamation came simultaneously from peggy and roy. they had been traveling due south across the island, and now the broad atlantic lay stretched beyond the land, shimmering in the sunlight. far off, they could make out the black smoke of a steamer, hovering above the ocean. "a mail boat, making for new york," announced roy. so fast were they traveling that by this time they could plainly make out the ocean, which, from a silvery streak, was now changed into a dark-blue rolling expanse of salt water. and still the _silver cobweb_ kept on, and gave no sign of turning. nor, for that matter, had her speed diminished appreciably. the rival aeroplane was now skimming above the water at a height of about a thousand feet. the _golden butterfly_ maintained about the same altitude, but the gap between the two aerial craft was not closing up. "mortlake's taking a desperate chance to show lieut. bradbury what the _cobweb_ can do," exclaimed roy. "with a new engine, he's risking too much." "i guess he's seen us and means to beat us out at all hazards," conjectured peggy. and she was right. mortlake, glancing back a short time before the sea appeared on the horizon, had seen the other aeroplane, and guessing at once what its appearance meant, had determined to keep on, even at the risk of plunging himself and his passenger into the sea. that was mortlake's character; he was a man who could brook no rivalry. used all his life to sweep obstacles aside, he would rather have terminated his career than permit any one to pass him in the race for first place, no matter in what line that first place might lie. "are you going to keep on, roy?" the question came as a strip of white beach flashed beneath them, and peggy, peering over the edge of the chassis, saw the big atlantic swells rolling below them. the thunder of the surf on the beach came clearly to their ears, even at that height. "what do you think, sis? we've got lots of gasoline. the motor is working without a hitch. i'd hate to turn back now, particularly with that officer's eyes upon us, as in all probability they are." "oh, let's keep on," exclaimed peggy, casting prudence to the winds. "i feel like you, roy. if we turn back now, it would look as if we were afraid to trust the _butterfly_ above the ocean, and, after all, it is a naval contest that we hope to be elected for." "forward it is, then," cried roy exultingly. the tang of the salt wind, the inspiration of the ocean, had come to him. he felt like a corsair--a very modern corsair--urging his craft above the ancient sea. the vessel, whose smoke they had espied at a distance, was quite close to them now. a huge, black hull, with white passenger decks, rising tier on tier, four huge red funnels with black tops, and slender masts, between which hung the spider-web aerials of her wireless apparatus. her bow was creaming up the ocean into foam, as she rushed onward at a twenty-four knot gait. roy, obeying a daring impulse, let the _golden butterfly_ descend. now they could see her promenade decks lined with white faces peering upward. here and there the sun glinted on the bright metal work of cameras, all aimed at the wonderful spectacle of the soaring, buoyant _golden butterfly_. "oh, if only we could drop a message on her decks!" breathed peggy eagerly. "i do wish we had a post-card or something----" "by ginger," cried roy suddenly, "i do believe i've got some in my coat-pocket. i bought some in the village yesterday to mail to the chaps back at school. yes. here they are, and here's a fountain-pen. now write all you want." peggy took the cards her brother handed to her with his free hand, and, with the fountain-pen, sat down to compose some messages. after a few seconds' thought, she began to write busily. card after card was covered with her neat penmanship. all this time roy had kept the _golden butterfly_ hovering above the liner, from time to time taking swoops and dives around it like some monstrous sea gull. suddenly, from the liner's whistle, a great cascade of white steam spouted. "wough-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!" it was the vessel's siren blowing a greeting to the young adventurers of the air. at the same instant a deep-throated roar, a cheer from cabin and steerage passengers alike, winged its way upward. roy acknowledged it by a graceful wave of his cap. then the cheering broke forth afresh. the passengers of the newest ocean giant, the _ruritania_, realized that they were seeing a spectacle that would remain in their memories all their lives. having conquered old ocean with leviathan vessels, man was now seeking to subdue the air to his utility. chapter x. an aerial post office. peggy addressed half a dozen cards. two, of course, went to jess and jimsy, another to aunt sallie prescott; one to the captain of the _ruritania_, and one other, which bore the address, "eugene mortlake, esq." it was a mischievous freak that made peggy write this last missive, which read: to mr. eugene mortlake, per steamer _ruritania_--in mid-air: greetings from aeroplane _golden butterfly_. r. & m. prescott. that was all, but peggy knew that it would serve its prankish purpose. all this time the _silver cobweb_ had been out at sea, but now, apparently detecting the maneuvers of the _golden butterfly_, she headed about, and came racing back. peggy deftly attached weights--spare bolts from the tool locker--to each of the cards, and then, snatching up a megaphone, she hailed the uniformed figures on the bridge of the great vessel below them. "will you be good enough to mail some letters for us?" "with pleasure!" came the reply in a big, bellowing british voice, from one of the stalwart figures beneath. "all right; roy, come down as low as you dare," cried peggy, catching her bundle of "mail." roy threw over a couple of levers and turned a valve. instantly the _golden butterfly_ began to drop in long, beautiful arc. she shot by above the liner's bridge at a height of not more than fifteen feet. at the correct moment peggy dropped the weighted bundle overboard, and had the satisfaction of seeing one of the officers catch it. the gallant officers, now realizing for the first time that a girl--and a pretty one--was one of the passengers of the big aeroplane, waved their hats and bowed profoundly. and peggy--what would aunt sallie have said!--peggy blew them a kiss. but then, as she told jess later: "i was in an aeroplane, my dear--a sort of an unattainable possibility, in fact." in the meantime, mortlake, in the _silver cobweb_, had been duly mystified as to what the _golden butterfly_ was about when she swooped downward on the steamer. for one instant the thought flashed across him that they were disabled. an unholy glee filled him at the thought. if only the _golden butterfly_ were to come to grief right under lieut. bradbury's eyes, it would be a great feather in the cap of the mortlake-harding machine. but, to his chagrin, he saw them rise the next instant, as cleverly as ever. lieut. bradbury, who had been watching the maneuver of the _golden butterfly_, gave an admiring gasp, as he witnessed the daring feat. "good heavens!" he exclaimed, and the evident note of astonishment and appreciation in his tones did not tend to increase mortlake's self-satisfaction. "the pesky brats," he muttered to himself; "we've got to do something to put them out of the race. there isn't another american-built aeroplane that i fear except that bothersome kids' machine." and there and then mortlake began to hatch up a scheme that in the near future was to come very nearly proving disastrous to peggy and roy and their high hopes. "magnificently handled, don't you think so, mortlake?" inquired the naval officer, the next instant. "yes, very clever," agreed mortlake, far too smart to show his inward feelings, or to wear his heart upon his sleeve; "very neat. but i can do the same thing if you'd care to see it?" the naval officer glanced at the puffy features of his companion and his thick, bull-like neck. "no, thanks," he said. "i've got to be getting back. there's another type of machine i've got to look over out at mineola. it is really necessary that i reach there as quickly as possible." "very well," said mortlake, inwardly relieved, as he didn't much fancy duplicating roy's feat, "we'll head straight on for the shore." "if you please." but what was the _golden butterfly_ doing? as the steamer raced onward, that aerial wonder had swung in a spiral, and was now seemingly hovering about, awaiting the arrival of the _silver cobweb_. as the two aeroplanes drew abreast, mortlake muttered something, and bent over his engines. the _cobweb_ leaped forward like an unleashed greyhound. but the _golden butterfly_ was close on her heels, and making almost as good time. mortlake plunged his hands in among the machinery and readjusted the air valve of the carburetor. another increase of speed resulted. the indicator crawled up to sixty-six, sixty-eight and then to seventy miles an hour. "pressing her a bit, aren't you?" asked the officer, as they seemed to hurtle through the air, so fast did they rush onward. "oh, no. she's built for speed," responded mortlake, with a gratified grin; "she'll leave any such old lumber wagon as that prescott machine miles behind her any day in the week." this seemed to be true. the _golden butterfly_, making about sixty miles, was being rapidly left behind. "i should think you'd be afraid of overheating your cylinders," volunteered the lieutenant. now, this was just what mortlake was afraid of. but, as has been said, he was the sort of man who, in sporting parlance, was willing always "to take a chance" to beat any one he considered his rival. he was taking a desperate chance now. under the artificial means he had used to increase the speed of his engines, the motor was "turning up" several hundred more revolutions a minute than she had been built for. now they shot above the strip of white beach, and, below them the pleasant meadow-lands and patches of verdant woods began to show once more. all at once, the sign for which mortlake had been watching so anxiously manifested itself. a tiny curl of smoke ascended from one of the cylinder-heads. a smell of blistering, burning paint was wafted back to the nostrils of lieut. bradbury. "i thought so," he said; "overheating already. better slow down, mortlake." mortlake glanced back. the _golden butterfly_, much diminished in size now by the distance, still hung doggedly on his heels. "i'll give her more air," he vouchsafed stubbornly, "that ought to cool her off a bit--that and advanced spark." he manipulated the necessary levers, but before many minutes it became apparent that, if urged at that rate, the _silver cobweb_ would never reach sandy beach without a break-down. "hadn't you better shut down a bit? that paint's blistering, as if the cylinders were red-hot." much as he disliked to interfere with the operation of the aeroplane, the young officer felt that it was necessary that some means should be taken to compel mortlake to reduce speed. if the engine became so overheated that it stopped in mid-air, they might be caught in a nasty position, where it might be impossible to volplane--or glide--downward, without the aid of the engine. "it's all right, i tell you," said mortlake stubbornly. "we'll beat those cubs into sandy beach, or----" or what, was destined never to be known, for at that instant, with a splutter and a sigh, the overheated engines, almost at a red-heat, stopped short. the propeller ceased to revolve, and the aeroplane began to plunge downward with fearful velocity. but mortlake, no matter what his other faults, possessed a cool head. the instant he lost control of the motor, he seized the warping levers, and began manipulating them. at the same time he set the rudder so as to bring the _silver cobweb_ to earth in a series of long spirals. the maneuver was that of volplaning, and has been performed successfully by several aviators whose engines have suddenly ceased to work while in mid-air. the young officer watched approvingly. whatever else mortlake might be--and lieut. bradbury had not taken a violent fancy to him--he was a master of the aerial craft. despite the mishap to the engine--caused by his own carelessness--mortlake managed to bring the _silver cobweb_ to a gentle landing in a broad, flat meadow, inhabited by some spotted cows, which fled in undignified panic as the monster, silent now, swooped down like a bolt from the blue. the instant the _silver cobweb_ came to rest mortlake's restless eyes glanced upward. he was hoping against all common sense that the young prescotts had not seen his mishap, or at least that they would pass on above him unnoticing. his first glance showed him the _golden butterfly_ still steadily plugging along, and a moment later it became apparent that they had seen the sudden descent of the _cobweb_, for the aeroplane was seen to dip and glide lower, much as a mousing hawk can be seen to do. "hard luck," murmured the young naval officer, as mortlake, who had clambered out of the machine, stamped and fumed by its side. inwardly lieut. bradbury was thinking how stubborn men invariably meet with some mishap or accident. "yes, beastly hard luck," agreed mortlake readily. "i see a farm-house over there, though, the other side of those trees. i guess i can get a bucket and some water over there. once i've cooled those cylinders off, we'll be all right." "how long will that take, do you think?" inquired the officer, pulling out his watch and a time-table. "not more than half an hour. it shouldn't take that." "that means i miss my train. if we don't get into sandy beach by eleven o'clock, i can't possibly make it. and there's not another from there for two hours. that would make me late for my appointment at mineola." mortlake's face fell. here was a bit of hard luck with a vengeance. it might cost him a place in the contests. "we can make up time, once we get under way," he said tentatively. "that isn't it. i daren't risk it. i wonder if i can get an automobile or some sort of a conveyance about here." "not a chance. i know this neighborhood. it is very sparsely settled." a sudden whir above them caused them both to look up. it was the _golden butterfly_, swooping and hovering above the disabled _cobweb_. "had an accident?" shouted down roy. "what do you think? you can see we're not flying, can't you?" bellowed mortlake, his face crimson with anger and mortification. "can we do anything to help you?" came from peggy, ignoring the fellow's insulting tones. "no!" "yes!" the first monosyllable came from mortlake. the second from lieut. bradbury. "if you don't mind accepting a passenger, i should be glad of a lift to sandy beach. i've got to make a train," explained the young officer. in five minutes the _golden butterfly_ was on the sward beside the crippled _cobweb_. mortlake's face was black as night. he fulminated maledictions on the young aviators who had appeared at--for him--such an inopportune moment. "can i help you fix the machine?" asked roy pleasantly. "there's nothing serious the matter, is there?" "not a thing," asserted mortlake. "it's all the fault of the men who made the carburetor. they did a bungling bit of work, and the cylinders have overheated." "can we leave a message for you at your shops, or would you like a lift home with us?" asked roy, who felt a kind of pity for the angry and stranded man. "you can't do anything for me except leave me alone," snapped out mortlake; "you cubs are altogether too inquisitive. you're too nosy." "but not to the extent of making sketches and notes, mr. mortlake?" inquired peggy sweetly--"cattily," she said it was, afterward. mortlake started and paled. then, without vouchsafing a reply, he strode off in the direction of the farm house to get the water he needed. "now, mr. bradbury," said roy, extending a hand. the young officer leaped nimbly into the chassis, and presently a buzzing whir told that the faithful _golden butterfly_ was taking the air once more. "score two for us!" thought peggy to herself. from a far corner of the pasture, mortlake watched his young rivals climbing the sky. he shook his fist at them and his heavy face darkened. chapter xi. the marked bill. some two days after the events narrated in our last chapter, lieut. bradbury, sitting in the library of the new york aero club, on west fifty-fourth street, received a telegram from eugene mortlake. he was considerably astonished, when on tearing it open, he read as follows: "must see you at once. have positive proof that young prescott is about to sell out his secrets to foreign government." "phew!" whistled the young officer. "this is a serious charge. if it is proved, it will bar prescott from bidding for the united states government contract. but i can hardly believe it. there must be some mistake. however, it is my duty to investigate. let's see--three o'clock. i can get a train to sandy beach at four. too bad! too bad!" the young officer shook his head. he had come to have a sincere regard for roy and his pretty sister, as well as admiration for their resourcefulness and pluck. when it is explained that during the time elapsing between his lucky lift in the prescott machine and the reception of the note, that lieut. bradbury had notified roy that he would be expected to report at the brooklyn navy yard, his feelings on learning that there was suspicion directed against his young protegé, may be imagined. mortlake, too, had received a notice that his machines were eligible for a test, so that there would have seemed to be no object for his acting treacherously. otherwise, the young officer might have been suspicious. what he had seen of mortlake had not particularly elevated that gentleman in his opinion. but if he had desired to wrong the prescotts, reasoned the officer, such a resourceful man as he had adjudged mortlake to be, would have sought a deeper and more subtle way of going about it. "and i'd have staked my word on that boy's loyalty; aye, and on his sister's too," muttered the officer, as he made ready for his hasty trip to long island. by this it will be seen that lieut. bradbury was by no means proof against the rather common failing of inclining to believe the first evil report we hear. it is a phase of human nature that is not combatted as it should be. in the meantime, roy and peggy had sustained a surprise, likewise. the day before that on which lieut. bradbury received the disturbing dispatch, an automobile had whizzed up to their gate and stopped. roy, peggy and jess and jimsy were at a game of tennis, when a rather imperious voice summoned them, from the tonneau of the machine. they looked up, to see a remarkably pretty young girl, who could scarcely have been more than eighteen years old. her eyes were black as sloes, and flashed like smoldering fires. a great mass of hair of the same color was piled on the top of her head in grown-up fashion, and her gown, of a magenta hue, which set off her dark beauty to perfection, was cut in the most recent--too recent, in fact--style. "can you direct me to mr. mortlake's aeroplane factory?" she demanded in an imperious tone. evidently the flushed, healthy-looking young people, who had been playing tennis so hard, were very despicable in her eyes. "there it is, down the road there," volunteered roy. "it's that barn-like place." the appellation was unfortunate. the girl's eyes flashed angrily. "my name is regina mortlake," she said angrily. "i am mr. mortlake's daughter. he is not in the habit of putting up barns, i can assure you." "i beg your pardon----" began roy, quite taken aback by the extraordinary energy with which the reproof to his harmless remark had been given. but the dark-eyed beauty in the automobile had given a quick order to the chauffeur, and the car skimmed on down the road. later that day the _silver cobweb_ ascended for a flight. it had nothing more the matter with it on the day of the break-down than the heated cylinders, which, as mortlake had prophesied, soon cooled. but mortlake himself did not take up the silvery aeroplane on this occasion. a new figure was at the wheel, clad in dainty dark aviation togs and bonnet, with a fluttering, flowing veil of the same color, which streamed out like a flag of defiance. the new driver was miss regina mortlake. they learned later that the girl had taken frequent flights in the south, where her father had, for a time, entered into the business of giving aeroplane flights for money at county fairs and the like. his daughter had taken naturally to the sport, and was an accomplished air woman. she knew no fear, and her imperious, ambitious spirit made her a formidable rival even to the foreign flying women who competed at various international aviation meets. while his daughter spun through the air, eugene mortlake sat in his little glass-enclosed office in one corner of the noisy aeroplane plant. four finished machines were now ready, and he would have felt capable of facing any tests with them had it not been for his uneasy fear of the prescott aeroplane. but he had evolved a scheme by which he thought he would succeed in putting peggy and roy out of the race altogether. it was in the making that afternoon in the little office. opposite to mortlake sat two men whom we have seen before. but in the cheap, but neat suits they now wore, and with their faces clean-shaven of the growth of stubby beard that had formerly covered them, it would have been somewhat difficult to recognize the two ill-favored tramps who had been routed by peggy in such a plucky manner. but, nevertheless, they were the men. "you thoroughly understand your instructions now?" questioned mortlake, as he concluded speaking. the fellow who had been addressed by his companion as joey, at the time they encountered mortlake and harding on the road to the galloway farm, nodded. "we understand, guv'ner," he rasped out in a hoarse voice; "slim, here, and me don't take long ter catch on, eh, slim?" "no dubious manner of doubt about that," responded slim. "an' although i'm a tramp now, guv'ner, i wasn't allers one. i've held my head as high as the rest of the good folks of the world. i can play the gentleman to perfection. don't you worry." this slim--or to give him his correct name--frederick palmer, was, as he declared with such emphasis, a man who had indeed "seen better days," as the phrase is. now that he was invested in fair-looking clothes, and was graced with a clean collar and a smooth-shaven face, he actually might have passed for a person in fairly well-to-do circumstances. for the part mortlake wished him to play, he could not have picked out a better man. utterly unscrupulous, and with the best of his life behind him, "slim"--as the tramp fraternity knew him--was prepared to do anything that there was money in. his companion possessed no such saving graces of appearance. short, coarse, and utterly lacking in every element of refinement, joey eccles was a typical hobo. but mortlake's shrewd mind had seen where he could make use of him, too, in the diabolical plan he was concocting, and the details of which he had just finished confiding to his unsavory lieutenants. "but say, guv'ner," struck in joey eccles, his little pig-like eyes agleam with cupidity, "we've got to have a bit more of the brass, you know--a little more money--eh?" he ended in an insinuating whine, the cringing plea of the professional beggar. mortlake made a gesture of impatience. "i gave you fellows a twenty-dollar-bill a few days ago," he said, "in addition to that, you've been provided with clothes and lodging. what more do you want?" "we've got to have some more coin, that's flat," announced slim decidedly; "come on, fork over, guv'ner. you've gone too far into this now to pull out." mortlake's florid face went white. as if he heard it for the first time, the words struck home. he had indeed "gone too far," as the tramp sitting opposite to him had said. he was, in fact, completely in the power of these two unscrupulous mendicants. making a resolve to get rid of them as speedily as possible, he dived into his breast pocket and drew from it a roll of bills that made slim's and joey's eyes stick out of their heads. he peeled off a twenty-dollar-bill, and flung it with no good grace down upon the table. "there," he said, "that's the last you'll get till the trick is done." "thankee, guv'ner; i knowed you'd see sense. a man of your intelligous intellect, and----" "that will do," snapped mortlake. "do you think i've got nothing to do but talk to you fellows all day? you thoroughly understand, now, to-morrow night on the road to galloway's farm?" "yus, and we've got a nice little deserted farm house all picked out, where we can keep the young rooster on ice," grinned joey. "well, well," shot out mortlake, "that will be your task. i've nothing to do with that. do you understand," he rapped the table nervously, "i know nothing about it." "all right, all right; we're wise," slim assured him confidently. "don't you worry. come on, joey. got the money?" "have i? oh, no; i'm goin' ter leave it right here," grinned joey, enjoying his own irony hugely. still chuckling, he arose and shuffled out, followed by the unsavory slim. outside, and on the road to the village, slim began to be obsessed by doubts. "some way, i don't jes' trust that mortlake," he said. "you're sure that bill is all right, joey?" "sure? well, you jes' bet i am. here, look at it yourself. all right, ain't it?" he drew out the bill and handed it to slim for his inspection. "and the best of it is," he chuckled, while slim inspected the bill carefully, "the best of it is, that i wasn't conformin' to the exact truth when i told mortlake that we'd spent all the other coin. i've got the best part of it left." "good," grunted slim, turning the twenty-dollar-bill over and examining the reverse side, "that being the case--hullo!" "what's up?" asked joey. for reply slim handed the bill to joey, pointing with a grimy first finger at something on the reverse side. it was an "o," scrawled in dull red ink. "that would be an easy bill to identify," commented palmer, uneasily, "wonder if this can be a trap?" "well, keep your suspicions to yourself for a while," counseled joey; "we don't need to break it till we make sure." chapter xii. what happened to roy. it was the next evening. mortlake, sitting at his desk, looked up as a quick step sounded outside. the factory was in darkness as the men had gone home. only a twilight dimness illuminated the little glass sanctum of the inventor and constructor of the mortlake aeroplane. "come in," said mortlake, as the next instant a sharp, decisive knock sounded. lieut. bradbury, in a mufti suit of gray, stepped into the office. "ah, good evening, lieutenant," said mortlake, rising clumsily to his feet and offering a chair, "i was beginning to despair of you." bradbury, genuinely worried, lost no time in plunging into the object of the interview. "that message you sent me--what does it mean?" he asked. "i can scarcely believe----" "nor could i, at first," said mortlake, with assumed sorrow. "it cut me pretty deep, i tell you, to think that a boy who was in negotiations with his own government for a valuable implement of warfare, should deal with a foreign government at the same time. in brief, this young traitor is balancing the profits and will sell out to the highest bidder." "that's strong language, mortlake," said the young officer, drumming the table with his fingers impatiently. honorable and upright in all his dealings, the young officer had no liking for the business in hand. yet it was his duty to see the thing through now, unpleasant as it promised to be. "strong language?" echoed mortlake. "yes, it is strong language, but not a bit more emphatic than the case warrants. did you know that for some days past a german spy has been in sandy beach?" "no. certainly not." "well, there has been. he visited this plant with proposals to turn over our aeronautic secrets to his government, but we refused to have anything to do with his scheming." "yes, very good. go on, please." the young officer felt that mortlake was approaching the climax of his story. "one of our men," resumed mortlake, in even tones, in which he cunningly managed to mingle a note of regret, "one of our men took upon himself--loyal fellow--to watch this spy. he reported to me some days ago that the man was in negotiation with young prescott." "good heavens!" "i know it sounds incredible, but we are dealing with facts. well, more than this, my zealous workman ascertained that young prescott is to meet this foreign agent at nine o'clock to-night on a lonely road, and is there to hand over to him the complete plans and specifications of the prescott aeroplane." "it's unbelievable, horrible. and in the face of this, do you mean to say that the boy would dare to keep up his apparent negotiations with the united states?" "that's just the worst part of it, as i understand it," rejoined mortlake. "the negotiations with this foreigner would, of course, be presumed by young prescott to be secret. this being so, he would, if successful in the tests, sell his ideas to the united states also, without mentioning the fact that they had already been bought and paid for." "monstrous!" "just what i said when i heard of it. i could not believe it, in fact. the boy has always seemed to be all that was upright and honest. it just shows how we can be mistaken in a person." "i cannot credit it yet, mortlake." "it was to give you proof positive that i summoned you here. we will take an automobile out to the spot where young prescott is to meet the foreign agent. of course, our arrival will be so calculated as to give us time to secrete ourselves before prescott and the other meet. are you willing to let your estimate of young prescott stand or fall by this meeting?" "i am, yes," replied lieut. bradbury, breathing heavily. "the young scoundrel, if he is caught red-handed, i will see if there is not some law that will operate to take care of his case." mortlake could hardly conceal a smile. his plan to ruin roy was working to perfection. in his imagination he saw the prescott aeroplane eliminated as a naval possibility, and the field clear for the selection of the mortlake machine. mentally he was already adding up the millions of profit that would accrue to him. lieut. bradbury left that meeting heavy of heart. mortlake's story had been so circumstantial, so full of detail, that it hardly left room for doubt. and then, too, he had offered to produce positive proof, to allow the officer to witness the actual transaction. "good heavens, isn't there any good in the world?" thought the officer, as the hack in which he had driven out to the mortlake plant drove him back to the village. mortlake had agreed to call for him at the little hotel at eight o'clock. the hours till then seemed to have leaden feet to the anxious young officer. it was shortly before this that roy, returning from an errand in town in the prescott automobile, was halted at the roadside by a figure which stepped from the hedge-row, and, holding up a cautioning finger, uttered a sharp: "hist!" roy, turning, saw a man, seemingly a workingman, from his overalls, at the side of the machine. "what is it? what do you want?" demanded roy. "i have a message for you," said the man, speaking in a slightly foreign accent; "you are in great danger. your enemies plot it." "my enemies!" exclaimed roy. "yes, your enemies at the mortlake factory." "let's see," said roy thoughtfully, "you're one of the workmen at the mortlake plant, aren't you?" "i _was_ once," said the man, with a vindictive inflection, "but i am so no longer. mortlake discharged me." "discharged you, eh? well, what's that got to do with me?" roy looked curiously at the man. "just this much. i know the meanness that mortlake plans to do to you. you have bad and wicked enemies at our place." "humph! i guess there may be some truth in that," said roy with a rather grim inflection. "well, what do you want me to do about it?" "just this: i am an honest man. i do not want to see harm come to you or to your sister." this was touching roy in a tender spot. "to my sister!" he exclaimed. "do you mean to say that mortlake is scoundrel enough to plot against her, too?" "in this way," explained the man, "he means to destroy your aeroplane, leaving the field clear for his own type to be selected by the navy." "the--the--the ruffian!" panted roy, now thoroughly aroused. "tell me more about this." "i cannot," rejoined the workman, "but my partner--he was discharged too--he can tell you much, much more. will you meet him? i can take you to him?" roy thought a moment. the man seemed to be wholly honest and in earnest. "how far from here is the place where your partner is?" he asked. "oh, not so very far. we soon get there in your fine machine. will you go?" "well, i--yes, i'll go. come on, get in." the man obeyed the invitation with alacrity. under his directions, roy swung the car off upon a by-road after they had gone some few hundred yards. "not long now," he said, as the vehicle bounced and jounced over the ruts and stones of the little-used thoroughfare. "this is a funny direction for your partner to live in," said roy at length. "there are not many dwellings out this way, nothing but a big swamp, as i recollect it." "my partner, he poor man," was the rejoinder. "he live with cousins out here." the answer lulled roy's rousing suspicions. "it must be all right," he thought. "there can't be any trick in all this. it's quite likely that mortlake does want to play us a mean trick. i can't forget the look he flashed at me the day we took lieut. bradbury away from him in that meadow after we had made our first sea trip. wow!" roy could not forbear smiling at the recollection. they chugged along in silence for some little distance farther, and then the man beside him laid a detaining hand on roy's arm. "almost there now," he said. "better slow up." roy did so. the brakes ground down with a jarring rasp. at the same moment a dark figure stepped from behind a tree trunk. the man beside roy held up a hand. "this is the young gentleman," he said. through the gloom the other figure now approached the automobile. "do you mind getting out?" it said. "we can talk better in the house." "where is the house? i don't see one," said roy, his suspicions rousing a little. "it's just behind that knoll. the path is just ahead," said the newcomer. roy got out. he was determined to see the adventure through now. if mortlake was plotting against him, he wanted to know it. as he reached the ground, the newcomer extended his hand, as if offering to shake roy's palm. roy put out his hand, which was instantly grasped by the other. "your friend tells me that you have something interesting to tell me----" began roy. "i--here, what are you trying to do? stop it!" the other had seized his hand in a clutch of steel, and, before the astonished boy could offer any resistance, had wrenched it over in such a manner that, without exactly knowing what had occurred, roy found himself sprawling on his back. the lad was helpless in this lonely place with two men who had now shown themselves in their true and sinister character. chapter xiii. plot and counterplot. the spot was fearfully lonely. roy realized this to the full. brave as the lad was, he felt suddenly chilled and creepy. besides, the utter mystery that enveloped the affair was gruelling to the mind. "now be still," pleaded the late guide, as roy, full of fight, jumped to his feet and flung off the detaining hold which had been laid on him. "yep. we don't want to hurt you," chimed in another voice, the voice of the powerful, stockily-built man who had thrown him, "be reasonable and quiet now, and you'll come to no harm. if not----" he drew a pistol and presented it at the boy's head. the hint was rough but effectual. roy saw that it would be mere folly to attempt resistance. "what's the meaning of this rough behavior?" he asked in a steady voice, mentally resigning himself to the inevitable. "you just come with us for a little while," said the gruff-voiced one. "don't worry; we ain't goin' ter harm you. you'll git loose agin after a while. don't worry about that." this assurance, though mysterious, was more or less comforting. but roy resented the utter mystery of the affair. "but what's it all for?" he protested. "is mortlake at the back of it; or--" "now, you come along, young feller," said a gruff voice, "don't axe no questions and you won't git told no lies, see?" roy saw. "well, go ahead, since i'm in your power," he said. "but i warn you it will go hard with you if ever i am able to set justice on your track." "hard words break no bones, guv'ner," came from the gruff-voiced man, who was none other than joey eccles, disguised with a big beard. the man who had escorted roy into the trap was, in truth, a former workman at the mortlake factory, who had been discharged for incompetency. he had applied at the plant to be taken on again, being well-nigh desperate with hunger, and mortlake had assigned him to the present task, for which, if the truth be told, he had no great liking. "where do you want me to go?" was roy's next question, as neither of his captors had yet made a move. "we'll show you fast enough, young guv'ner," said joey through his beard. "come on, this way." he caught hold of roy's arm and began piloting him along a path, or rather cow track, that ran across the meadow. it was now almost dark, and roy, after they had gone a few steps, was only able to make out the dark outlines of what seemed to be a small hut on the edge of a dense woods lying directly ahead of them. "i suppose that's our destination," thought the boy. "well, they have not attempted any violence, and i guess if they had meant me any physical harm they would have attacked me when they first trapped me. but what does all this mean? that's the question." nothing more was said as the three, the captors and the prisoner, tramped across the dewy grass. as they drew closer to the building roy had descried, he saw that it was a dilapidated looking affair. shutters hung crazily from a single hinge, broken window-panes looked disconsolately out. in the roof was a yawning gap, from which a great owl flapped as they drew closer. evidently the place had not been occupied as a dwelling for many years. the door, however, was open, and, with the pistol still menacing him, roy was marched by his captors into the moldy, smelling place. handing his pistol to the other man, gruff-voice--otherwise joey eccles--struck a match. carefully screening it from the draughts which swept through the rickety building, he led the way into a bare room in which was a tumble-down table and two boxes to serve as seats. a pack of greasy cards lay on the table-top, showing that joey had been passing his time at solitaire. this fact showed roy that the plot had been carefully concocted, and that the trap was all ready to be sprung much earlier in the day. only a brain like mortlake's, he reasoned, could have thought out such an intricate plan. and yet, what could be mortlake's object? "now, then," announced joey, when he had lighted the tin kerosene lamp, "i'll show you to your quarters, master prescott." a chill ran through roy at the words. what could be coming now? with his pistol in his hand, joey gently urged roy into a rear room, his companion following with the lamp. once in the room, joey stepped forward, and, stooping down, raised a trap door in the centre of the floor. a rank, musty smell rushed up as he opened it. "thar's your abode for the next three or four hours," he said with a grin to roy and pointing downward. the boy shuddered. "not in there?" he said. "them's our orders," said joey shortly. "there's a ladder there now. you can climb down on that. don't be scared. it's only a cellar, and guaranteed snake-proof. when the time comes, we'll lower the ladder to you again, an' git you out." roy looked desperately about him. unarmed, he knew that he did not stand a chance against his burly captives, but had it not been for the fact that one of them had a pistol, he would have, even then, attempted to make a break for liberty. but as it was--hopeless! he nodded as joey pointed downward into the dark, rank hole, and, with an inward prayer, he slowly descended the ladder. the instant his feet touched the ground, joey, who had been holding the lamp above the trapdoor, ordered his companion to pull up the ladder. the next moment it was gone, and the trapdoor was slammed to with an ominous crash. roy was enveloped in pitchy darkness. suddenly, through the gloom, he heard a sound. it was the rasp of a padlock being inserted in the door above him. then came a sharp click, and the boy knew that hope of escape from above had been cut off. if the men kept their promise, they would release him in their own good time, and that was all he had to buoy him up in that black pit. but roy, as those who have followed his and peggy's adventures know, was not the boy to weakly give way to despair before he had exhausted every possible hope, and not even then. but in the darkness he did bitterly reproach himself for falling into the rascals' trap so blindly. "well, of all the prize idiots in the world," he broke forth under his breath in the blackness, "commend me to you, roy prescott. if you'd thought it over before you started--looked before you leaped--this would never have happened. anybody but a chump could have seen that, on the face of it, the whole thing was a scheme to entice you away. oh, you bonehead! you ninny!" the boy felt better after this outbreak. he even smiled as he thought how neatly he had walked into the spider's web. then he shifted his position and prepared to think. but, as he moved his foot struck something. a wallet, it felt like; he reached down, and, by dint of feeling about, managed to get his fingers on it. the leather was still warm, and roy realized that it must have been dropped into the cellar from the bearded man's pocket when he leaned over to see if roy had reached the bottom of the ladder. "queer find," thought the boy. "i'll keep it. maybe there's something in it that may result in bringing those rascals to justice." he thrust it into his pocket and thought no more of it. his mind was busy on other things just then. if only he had a match! he felt in all his pockets without result, and was about giving up in despair, when, in the lining of his coat, he felt several lucifers. they had slipped through a hole in his pocket. "gee whiz! how lucky that aunt sally forgot to mend that pocket," thought the boy, eagerly thrusting his fingers through the aperture and drawing out a dozen or more matches. "these may stand me in good stead, now. but i don't want to waste them. guess i'll just light one to see what kind of a place i'm in, and then trust to the sense of touch if i see any means of escape." there was a scratch and a splutter, and the match flared bravely. its yellow rays illumined a cellar very much like any other cellar. it was walled with stonework, well cemented, and there were two or three small windows at the sides. but these, which at first filled roy with a flush of hope, proved, on examination, to have been bricked up, and solidly, too. "nothing doing there," he muttered, and turned his attention to the rear of the underground place where there was a flight of steps leading up to a horizontal door, which, evidently, opened on the outerworld. but this door was secured on the under side by a rusty padlock of formidable dimensions. roy tried it. it was solid as the rock of gibraltar, as the advertisements say. "stuck!" he muttered disappointedly; and yet: "hold on! what about that pocket tool kit i had when i started out on the auto? hooray! those chaps forgot to search me. thought it was too much trouble, i guess. now for a sharp file! good! here's one! now, then, if the luck holds, i'll be free in not much more than a long jiffy!" these thoughts shot through roy's brain, as he selected a file from his fortunate find, and began working away at the hasp of the padlock. above him he could hear the low grumbling growl of the voices of his guardians. but they came very faintly. "lucky thing they are in the front room," thought roy, as he worked on, "otherwise, they might hear this." at last the file had cut far enough into the hasp for roy's strong fingers to be able to bend the metal apart. with a beating heart, he replaced the little tool in its case and pulled the ring of the padlock out of the hasp. then he gave an upward shove, but very gently. for all he knew, the door he was pushing upward might open in another room. but when it gaped, an inch only, roy saw the faint radiance of a clouded moon. a gust of fresh, clean air blew in his face, as if welcoming him from his noisome depths. an instant later, with throbbing pulses and flushed cheeks, roy stood out in the open. above him light clouds raced across the moon, alternately obscuring and revealing the luminary of the night. but roy didn't linger. he crept across the field, keeping close to a tall, dark hedge-row till he reached the automobile. as he had guessed, neither of his captors knew how to run it, and it stood just where he had left it. "glory be!" thought the boy, climbing in, "i'm all right, now. i don't know where this road goes to, and it's too narrow to turn round, but i'll keep straight on and i'm bound to land somewhere." he turned on the gasoline and set the spark. but the engine didn't move. "queer," thought roy. he got out and walked round to the front and then the rear of the car. there was a strong smell of gasoline there. stooping down, he found the ground was saturated with the fuel. what had happened was plain enough. the cunning rascals who had captured him had drained the tank of gasoline. the auto was as helpless as if it had not had an engine in it at all. "well, this is a fine fix," thought roy. "however, there's nothing for it now, but to keep on. those ruffians are cleverer than i gave them credit for." stealing softly toward the woods, the boy sped into their dark shadows. aided by the flickering light of the moon, he made good progress through the gloomy depths. he did not dare to slacken his pace till he had traveled at least half a mile. then he let his footsteps lag. "not much chance of their discovering me now, even if they have awakened to the fact that i have escaped," he said to himself, as he strode on. suddenly he emerged on a strip of road that somehow had a familiar look. he was still looking about when a strange thing happened. there came the sound of rapid footsteps approaching him, and the quick breathing of an almost spent runner. then came a sound as if somebody was scuffling not far from him and suddenly a voice he knew well rang out: "prescott, you young scoundrel, i'll get you yet!" the voice was that of lieut. bradbury. "well, how under the sun does lieut. bradbury know that i'm here?" marvelled the amazed boy, stopping short. at the same instant, from the direction in which the naval officer's shout had come, a slender dark figure came racing toward him. chapter xiv. how they worked out. roy made a desperate clutch at the figure as it raced past, evidently fleeing from an unseen peril. that that peril was lieut. bradbury, roy did not for an instant doubt, as he could hear the officer's shouts in his undoubted voice close at hand. the boy's hands grasped the unknown's collar, but at the same instant, with an eel-like squirm, the figure dived and twisted. suddenly it bent down and scooped up a handful of sandy gravel and flung the stuff full in roy's face. blinded, the boy staggered back and the other darted off like a deer. the next instant two heavy hands fell on roy's shoulders and he felt himself twisted violently about. and then a voice--lieut. bradbury's voice--said: "now then, you young rascal, i've got you. what does all this mean?" "that's just what i'd like to know," exclaimed roy indignantly, brushing the gravel out of his smarting eyes, "i've been made prisoner and--." the officer's astonished voice interrupted him. "what! do you mean to try to lie out of it? didn't you just hand the plans of the aeroplane over to that representative of a foreign government whom mr. mortlake is now chasing?" roy looked at the other as if he thought he had gone suddenly mad, as well he might. "i don't understand you," he gasped. "what is all this--a joke? it's a very poor one if it is." "i'll give you a chance to explain," said the officer grimly, tightening his hold on roy's collar, "as things stand at present, i believe you to be as black a young traitor as ever wore shoe leather." the world swam before roy's eyes. he sensed, for the first time, an inkling of the diabolical web that had been spun about him. but it is time that we retraced our footsteps a little and return to events which occurred after the lieutenant had been picked up by appointment in sandy beach. in the automobile which called for him were seated mr. harding, whom he already knew slightly from meeting him at the aeroplane plant, and mortlake himself. "this is a very unfortunate business, hey?" croaked old harding, as they spun along the road to the place where mortlake, who was driving, declared roy had made an appointment to meet the foreign spy. "it is worse than that, sir. it is deplorable," the officer had said. and he meant it, too. he had hardly been able to eat his dinner for thinking over the extraordinary situation. but the auto sped rapidly on. now it had passed the last scattering houses outside the village, and was racing along a lonely country road. finally, it turned off, and entered a branch thoroughfare which led from the main track. all this time but little had been said. each occupant of the machine was busied with his own thoughts, and in the lieutenant's case, at any rate, they were not of the pleasantest. the road into which they turned was little more than a track, with a high, grass-grown ridge in the centre. it was a lonesome spot, and certainly seemed retired enough to suit any plotters who might wish to transact their business unobserved. "bother such sneaky bits of work," thought the young officer to himself, as they rushed onward through the darkness. "i feel like a cheap detective, or somebody equally low and degraded. it's unmanly, and--oh, well! it's in the line of duty, i suppose, or hanged if i would have anything to do with it. mortlake showed up as more of a gentleman in the matter than i'd have given him credit for. he seems to be genuinely cut up over the whole nasty mess. well he may be, too." as described in another chapter, the sky was overcast with hurrying clouds, which, from time to time, allowed a flood of moonlight to filter through. by one of these temporary periods of light, lieut. bradbury was able to perceive that they were in a sort of lane with high hedges on each side. suddenly mortlake ran the auto through a gap in the hedge at one side of the road, and drove it in among a clump of alders, where there was no danger of it being seen. "this is the place," said he, as they came to a standstill. "and a nice, lonely sort of place, too, hey?" chirped old harding; "just the place for a traitor to his country to----" "hush!" said the young officer seriously. "let us wait and see if young prescott completes the case against himself before we condemn him, mr. harding." "humph!" grunted the old money-bags. "in my opinion, he is condemned already. never did like that boy, something sneaky about him. hey, hey, hey?" the officer's heart was too sick within him to answer. he drew out his watch and looked at it in a fleeting glimpse of moonshine. it was almost the time that mortlake had declared had been agreed upon for the consummation of the plot. "at all events, i shall know within a few minutes if this story is to be credited or condemned," thought lieut. bradbury. old harding and mortlake, the latter leading and beckoning to lieut. bradbury, slipped cautiously through the alders, and took up a position in the clump at the edge of the road behind a big bowlder, where they could command a good view of the thoroughfare without being seen themselves. the officer, with a keener sense than ever of doing something dishonorable, joined them. "hark!" exclaimed mortlake presently. but, although they all strained their ears, they could hear no sound except the cracking of a tree limb, as it rubbed against another branch in the night wind. "you are sure this was the place?" asked the officer. "so my man told me," rejoined mortlake. "you know, i relied absolutely on his word for this thing, all the way through. i, myself, know nothing of it." he emphasized these last words, as if he wished them to stick in his hearer's memory. suddenly, however, a new sound struck into the silence. it was a heavy footstep, gradually drawing closer. round the dark corner of the road came a tall form in a long coat and with a slouch hat pulled down well over its eyes. lieutenant bradbury could have groaned. mortlake nudged him triumphantly. "well," he said, "i guess part of it's true, anyhow." "i'm afraid so," breathed the officer. "i thought so. hey, hey, i thought so," chuckled old harding rustily. the tall figure came on until it was almost opposite the bushes where the three hidden onlookers were concealed. it looked about in some impatience, tapping one of its feet querulously. then it fell to pacing up and down. "evidently the boy is late," thought the lieutenant. and then a glad guess shot through his mind. "perhaps the boy has thought better of it." but even as he felt a great sense of relief at this supposition, there came a low whistle from farther down the road. it was answered by the figure opposite the hidden party, which instantly stopped its pacing to and fro. "by the great north star, it's true!" gasped the officer, as, from round the bend in the road below where they were stationed, a slight, boyish figure, walking rapidly, came into view. it hesitated an instant, and then, perceiving the tall man, it came on again. "have you got der plans?" the question came in a thick, guttural, foreign tone, from the tall figure. the boy, who had just appeared, showed every trace of agitation. "he's struggling with his better nature," thought lieut. bradbury. "i'll help him." he was starting forward with this intention, when mortlake, prepared for some such move, dragged him back. "don't interfere," he whispered, "if the lad is a traitor, as well know it now as at some future time." lieut. bradbury could not but feel that this was true. he sank back once more, watching intently, breathlessly, every move of the drama going on under his eyes. with a quick gesture, the boy seemed to cast aside his doubts. he muttered something in a low voice, and, as a ray of moonlight filtered through a cloud, lieut. bradbury distinctly saw him pass something to the tall man. "goot. you haf done vell. here is der money," said the man, in a low, but distinct tone, that carried plainly to the listeners' ears. he held out an envelope, which the boy took, with a muttered words of thanks, seemingly. lieut. bradbury could control himself no longer. flinging mortlake aside, as if he had been a child, he flashed out of his place of concealment, mad rage boiling over in his veins. what he had just seen had swept every doubt aside. his whole being was bent on getting hold of the young traitor and trouncing him within an inch of his life. he felt he would be fulfilling a sacred duty in doing so. but, as he sprang forward, as if impelled by an uncoiled steel spring, the two conspirators caught the alarm. while the officer was still rushing through the bushes, they dashed off, one in one direction, one in the other. "he's ruined everything," groaned mortlake. "no, no; you can save the day yet if you act quickly," cried old man harding in the same low, intense voice, "shout out that you are after the spy." "right!" cried mortlake, clutching at a straw. he, too, dashed out of concealment, and took off after the tall man, bellowing loudly: "you chase the boy, bradbury. i'll get the spy. stop you villain! stop!" it was at that moment that roy, just emerging from the woods, heard lieut. bradbury's angry challenge: "prescott, you young scoundrel, i'll get you yet!" chapter xv. what mortlake did. "look here," cried roy, indignantly wiggling in the officer's strong grasp, "can't you see that this is all a mistake? if you hadn't grabbed me, i could have caught that impostor." a great light seemed to break on lieut. bradbury. "why, bless my soul," he exclaimed, "that's so. i can see it all, now. that chap who got away wore a gray suit, while yours is a blue serge, isn't it?" "it was, before i was thrown into that cellar," said roy ruefully. the moon was shining brightly now, and he saw that, in the semi-darkness, it would have been easy to mistake his blue serge, dust-covered as it was, for one of gray material. "tell me exactly what has happened," urged the officer. "i must confess i am in a mental whirl over to-night's happenings." roy rapidly sketched the events leading up to his capture and imprisonment, not forgetting to lay the blame on himself for being so gullible as to be led into such a pitfall. "not a word more of self-blame, my boy," cried the young officer warmly. "older persons than you would have stumbled into such an artfully prepared snare, baited as it was with the hope of catching mortlake in a plot to destroy your aeroplane. but now i'm going to tell you my experiences, and we can see if they dovetail at any point." but when lieut. bradbury concluded his narrative, they were still at sea as to the main instigator of the plot. of course, the finger of suspicion pointed pretty plainly to mortlake, but the rascal had covered his tracks so cleverly that neither roy nor the young officer felt prepared to actually accuse him. "but i can't see how an ordinary workman would have had either the brains or the motive to direct such an ingenious scheme to discredit me in your eyes," concluded roy, as they finished discussing this phase of the question. "nor i. but hark! somebody's shouting. it must be mortlake. yes, it is. hull--o--a!" "hullo--a!" came back out of the night. "come, we will retrace our steps to the auto and meet him there," said the lieutenant. "i wonder if he'll have the face to brazen it out?" thought roy, by which it will be seen that his mind was pretty well made up as to the "power behind" the night's work. "couldn't come near the fellow," puffed mortlake, as they came up. "he ran like a deer. but--great christmas--you've had better luck, i see!" for an instant, even in the semi-darkness, roy saw the other's face grow white as ashes. "he thinks that lieut. bradbury has caught my impersonator," was the thought that flashed through the boy's mind. but the same sudden radiance that had betrayed mortlake's agitation also showed him that it was the real roy prescott he was facing. instantly he assumed a mask of the greatest apparent astonishment. "roy prescott, i am really amazed that you should be implicated in such a----" "save your breath, mr. mortlake," snapped out the lieutenant, and his words came sharp as the crack of a whip; "this is the real roy prescott, and he has been the victim of as foul a plot to blacken an honest lad's name as ever came to my knowledge. the young ruffian who impersonated him to-night has escaped." "escaped!" exclaimed mortlake, but to roy's quick ears, despite the other's attempt to disguise his relief, it stood out boldly. "yes, escaped. partly owing, i confess, to my overzealousness. there has been foul play here somewhere, mr. mortlake." the officer's voice was stern. his eye flashed ominously. just then old mr. harding came puffing up. "oh, so you got the boy, hey?" he cackled, but mortlake shut him off with a quick word. "no. this is the real roy prescott. it seems that a trick has been put up on us all. the lad we mistook for roy prescott was some one impersonating him. this lad has been the victim of a vile plot. while we were watching here for his supposed appearance and the revelation of his treachery, some rascals had locked him in a cellar." the lieutenant's words were hot and angry. he felt that he was facing two clever rascals, whose cunning was too much for his straightforward methods. "you--you amaze me!" exclaimed old mr. harding, looking in the moonlight like some hideous old ghoul. "what game of cross-purposes and crooked answers is this?" "that remains to be seen. i shall see to it that an investigation is made and the guilty parties punished." was it fancy, or did roy, for a second, see mortlake quail and whiten? but if the boy had seen such a thing, the next instant mortlake was master of himself. "it seems to me to have been a plot put up by my workmen," he said. "if i find it to be so, i shall discharge every one of them. poor fellows, in their mistaken loyalty to me, perhaps they thought that they were doing me a good turn by trying to discredit my young friend--i am proud to call him so--my young friend, prescott." for the first time, roy was moved to speak. "i hardly think that your workmen were responsible, mr. mortlake," he said slowly and distinctly. "you do not? who, then?" "i don't know, yet, but i shall, you can depend upon that." "really? how very clever we are. smart as a steel trap, hey?" grated out old harding, rubbing his hands. "smart as a steel trap, with teeth that bite and hold, hey, hey, hey?" "instead of wasting time here, i propose that we at once go to the house in which roy was confined, and see if we can catch the rascals implicated in this," said lieut. bradbury. "can you guide us, my boy?" "i think so, sir. it's not more than half an hour's tramp from here," said roy. "let's be off at once, otherwise they may escape us." "ridiculous, in my opinion," said mortlake decisively. "depend upon it, those ruffians have found out by now how cleverly the boy escaped them, and have decamped. we had much better get back to town and notify the police." "i beg your pardon, but i differ from your opinion," said the naval officer, looking at the other sharply. "of course, if you don't want to go----" "oh, it isn't that," mortlake hastened to say. "i'm willing, but mr. harding. he is old, and the night air----" "mr. harding can remain with the automobile. there are plenty of wraps in it. come, roy. are you coming, mr. mortlake?" "yes, oh, yes. mr. harding, you will make yourself comfortable till we return." having said this, mortlake came lumbering after the other two, as eagerly as if his whole soul was bent on capturing the two men who had been carrying out his orders. "i've got a revolver ready for them," he volunteered, as the party plunged through the woods along the little track roy had followed. "take care it doesn't go off prematurely and alarm them," said the officer. "we don't want to let them slip through our fingers." "of course not; i'll be very careful," promised mortlake. they trudged on in silence. suddenly roy halted. "we're near to the place now," he said. "advance cautiously in single file," ordered the lieutenant. "i'll go first." in indian file, they crept up on the house. its outlines could now be seen, and in one window a ruddy glow from the lamp the two abductors of roy had kindled. evidently they had not yet discovered his escape. all at once mortlake, who was last, stumbled on a root and fell forward; as he did so, his revolver was discharged twice. the shots rang out loudly in the still night. instantly the light was extinguished. the next instant two dark figures could be seen racing from the house. before lieut. bradbury could call on them to halt, they vanished in the darkness and a patch of woods to the north. "what a misfortune!" exclaimed mortlake contritely, picking himself up. lieutenant bradbury could hardly restrain his anger. "how on earth did you happen to do that, mortlake?" he snapped. "those two shots alarmed those rascals, and now they're gone for good. it's most annoying." "i appreciate your chagrin, my dear bradbury," rejoined mortlake suavely, "but accidents will happen, you know." "yes, and sometimes they happen most opportunely," was the sharp reply. mortlake said nothing. in silence they approached the house, but nothing save the pack of greasy cards, was found there to indicate the identity of its late occupants. there was nothing to do but to return to the automobile. they found old mr. harding awaiting them eagerly. he showed no emotion on learning that roy's captors had escaped just as their capture seemed certain. on the drive back to sandy beach, the old banker and mortlake occupied the front seat, while roy and lieut. bradbury sat in the tonneau. as they skimmed along, roy drew something from his pocket and showed it to the officer. it was an object that glistened in the wavering moonlight. "it's a woman's hair comb!" cried the officer in amazement, as he regarded it. "hush, not so loud," warned roy. "i picked it up where i had the struggle with the other roy prescott. it may prove a valuable clue." chapter xvi. missing side-comb. some days after the strange and exciting events just recorded, peggy burst like a whirlwind into the little room,--half work-shop, half study,--in which roy was hard at work developing a problem in equilibrium. it was but a short time now to the day on which they were to report to the navy board of aviation at hampton roads, and submit their aerial craft to exhaustive tests. both brother and sister had occupied their time in working like literal trojans over the _golden butterfly_. but although every nut, bolt and tiniest fairy-like turn-buckle on the craft was in perfect order, roy was still devoting the last moments to developing the balancing device to which he mainly pinned his hopes of besting the other craft. from the newspapers they had been made aware that several types, bi-planes, monoplanes and freak designs were to compete, and roy was not the boy to let lack of preparation stand in the way of success. detectives and the local police had been set to work on the mysterious plot whose object had been to entrap the boy. but no result had come of their work. incidentally, it had been found, when the auto which roy had driven to the deserted house was towed back for repairs, that the tank had been punctured by some sharp instrument. as for the clue of the brilliant-studded comb, peggy on examining it, declared it to be one of a pair of side-combs, which only complicated the mystery. roy had thought of surrendering this clue to the police, but on thinking it over he decided not to. he had an idea in regard to that comb himself, and so had peggy, but it seemed too wild and preposterous a theory to submit to the intensely practical police of sandy beach. roy looked up from the paper-littered desk as peggy flung breathlessly into his sanctum. he knew that only unusual news would have led her to interrupt his work in which she was as keenly interested as he was. "what is it, sis?" he asked, "you look as excited as if the statue of liberty had paid us a visit and was now doing a song and dance on the front lawn." "oh, roy, do be serious. listen--who do you suppose has come back to sandy beach?" "not the least idea. who?" "fanning harding!" "fan harding! the dickens!" "isn't it, and more than that, he is down at the mortlake plant now. he is going to take up the _cobweb_. and who do you think is to be his companion?" "give it up." "regina mortlake!" "phew!" whistled the boy, "a new conquest for the irresistible fanning, eh?" "don't be stupid," reproved peggy, severely, "i've been thinking it over and i've just hit on the solution. fanning, or so i heard, took up aviation when he was in the west. you know he always had a hankering for it." "yes, i recollect his fake aeroplane that scared the life out of you," grinned roy. "well," pursued peggy, not deigning to notice this remark, "i guess they decided that mr. mortlake would be a bit er--er--overweight isn't it called? so they sent for old mr. harding's son to manage the _cobweb_ at the tests." "jove, that must be it. makes it rather awkward, though. somehow i don't much fancy master fanning." "as if we hadn't good reason to despise him. hark! there goes the _cobweb_ now!" a droning buzz was borne to their ears. running to the window they saw the mortlake aeroplane whiz by at a fair height. it was going fast and a male figure, tall and slight, was at the wheel. in the stern seat regina mortlake's rubicund aviation costume could be made out. [illustration: running to the window they saw the mortlake aeroplane whiz by at a fair height.] "fanning has certainly turned out to be a good driver of aeroplanes," commented roy, as he watched; "see that flaw strike them! there! he brought the _cobweb_ through it like an old general of the upper regions." peggy had to admit that fanning harding did seem to be an expert at his work; but she did it regretfully. "he gives me the creeps," she volunteered. "there's nothing creepy about his aeroplane work, though," laughed roy, "i shouldn't have believed he could have picked up so much in such a short time." but a bigger surprise lay in store for the young prescotts. that afternoon they had, as visitors, no one less than fanning harding and regina mortlake. while peggy and the daughter of the designer of the mortlake aeroplane chatted in one corner, fanning placed his arm on roy's shoulder and drew him out upon the veranda where miss prescott sat with her embroidery. "i know you don't like me, roy, and you never did," he said insinuatingly, "but i've changed a lot since i was in sandy beach before. let's let bygones be bygones and be friends again. more especially as in a few days we'll be pitted against each other at the naval tests." "of course, if you are genuinely sorry for all the harm you tried to do us, i've nothing more to say," said roy, "i'm willing to be friends, but although i may forgive, it's going to be hard to forget." "oh, that will come in time," said fanning, airily, "i'm a changed fellow since i went west." but in spite of fanning's protestations roy could not help feeling a sensation of mistrust and suspicion toward the youth. there was something unnatural even in this sudden move toward friendship. "it's ungenerous, ungentlemanly," roy protested to himself; but somehow the feeling persisted that fanning was not to be trusted. "how prettily you do your hair," peggy was remarking to regina mortlake in the meantime. she looked with genuine admiration at the glossy black waves which the other had drawn back over her ears in the french style. "oh, do you like it?" asked regina eagerly, "i think its hideous. but you know i lost one of my combs and--but let's go and see what the boys are doing," she broke off suddenly, turning crimson and hastening to the porch. once outside she plunged at once into conversation with the two boys, and peggy had no opportunity of picking up the dropped stitches of conversation. she caught herself puzzling over it. why had regina been so mortified, and apparently alarmed, when she had announced the loss of one of her side-combs? right there a strange thought came into peggy's mind. the brilliant-studded comb that roy had picked up! could it be that--but no, the idea was too fantastic. in the pages of a book, perhaps, but not in real life. and yet--and yet--peggy, as she watched the graceful, dark-eyed girl talking with splendid animation, found herself wondering--and wondering. the next day, just as peggy and roy were starting out for a run to the bancroft place, fanning harding and regina mortlake came whizzing up to the gate in the latter's big touring car--the one in which she had arrived in sandy beach. the machine was the gift of her father. it was a commodious, maroon-colored car, with a roomy tonneau and fore-doors and torpedo body of the latest type. beside it the blue bird looked somewhat small and insignificant. but roy and peggy felt no embarrassment. on the contrary, they were quite certain the blue bird was the better car. "where are you off to?" asked fanning in friendly tones, while regina bowed and smiled very sweetly to peggy. "going to take a spin in the direction of the bancroft's," said roy, starting his car. "what fun," cried regina mortlake, "so are we. let's race." "i don't believe in racing," rejoined peggy. "no, of course it is dangerous," said fanning, "i guess roy is a bit timid with that old car, too. besides it's all in the way you handle a machine;" roy flushed angrily. "i guess this 'old car,' as you call it, could give yours a tussle if it comes down to it," he said sharply. peggy tugged his sleeve. she saw where this would lead too. she saw, too, that fanning was anxious to provoke roy into a race. presumably he was anxious to humiliate the boy in regina mortlake's eyes. "well, do you want to race then?" asked regina, provokingly, her fine eyes flashing, "there's a bit of road beyond here that's quite broad and one hardly ever meets anything." now roy was averse, as are most boys, to being thought a "'fraid cat," and the almost openly taunting air with which the girl looked at him angered him almost to desperation. "very well," he said, "we'll race you when we get to that bit of road." "oh, roy, what are you saying," pleaded peggy, "it's all a trick to humiliate us. the blue bird can't possibly keep up with their car, and----." but roy checked her impatiently. "you don't think i'm going to allow fanning harding to scare me out of anything, do you?" he demanded in as near to a rough tone of voice as he had ever used to his sister. poor peggy felt the stinging tears rise. but she said nothing. the next moment the cars began to glide off, running side by side on the broad country road. faster and faster they went. the speed got into roy's head. he began to let the blue bird out, and then fanning harding, for the first time seemingly, realized what a formidable opponent he was placed in contact with. as they reached the bit of road previously agreed upon as a race course, the banker's son stopped his machine and hailed roy to do the same. "tell you what we'll do to make this interesting," he said, "we'll change machines. or are you afraid to drive mine?" "i'll drive it," said roy recklessly, in spite of peggy's quavered: "say no." "good. that will give us a fine opportunity to compare the two machines," cried fanning harding. he jumped from the bigger car and handed out his companion. then, for the fraction of a minute, he bent, monkey wrench in hand, above one of the forward wheels. "a bolt had worked loose," he explained. "come on peggy," urged roy, and against her better judgment peggy, as many another girl has done before her, obeyed the summons, although an intuition warned her that something was not just right. "ready?" cried fanning from the blue bird. "all ready"; hailed back roy, who found the spark and throttle adjustments of the maroon car perfectly simple. "then--go!" almost screamed regina mortlake. peggy was looking at her at the moment, and she was almost certain she saw a look of hatred flash across the girl's countenance. but before she could give the matter any more thought the maroon car shot forward. close alongside came the blue bird. motor hood to motor hood they thundered along at a terrific pace. the road shot by on either side like a brown and green blur. "faster!" peggy heard fanning shout somewhere out of the dust cloud. whi-z-z-z-z-z-z! it was wild, exciting--dangerous! "roy," gasped peggy, "if----" but she got no further. there was a sudden soul-shaking shock. the front of the car seemed to plough into the ground. a rending, splitting noise filled the air. the car stopped short, and its boy and girl occupants were hurtled, like projectiles, into the storm center of disaster. chapter xvii. jimsy's suspicions are roused. peggy, after a moment in which the entire world seemed spinning about her crazily, sat up. she had landed in a ditch, and partially against a clump of springy bushes, which had broken the force of her fall. in fact, she presently realized, that by one of those miraculous happenings that no one can explain, she was unhurt. the automobile, its hood crushed in like so much paper, had skidded into the same ditch in which peggy lay, and bumped into a small tree which it had snapped clean off. but the obstacle had stopped it. one wheel lay in the roadway. evidently it had come off while the machine was at top speed, and caused the crash. but peggy noted all these things automatically. she was looking about her for roy. from a clump of bushes close by there came a low groan of pain. the girl sprang erect instantly, forgetting her own bruises and shaken nerves in this sign that her brother was in pain. in the meantime, fanning and regina mortlake had stopped and turned the blue bird. they came back to the scene of the wreck with every expression of concern on their faces. roy lay white and still in the midst of the brush into which he had been hurled. there was a great cut across his forehead, and in reply to peggy's anxious inquiries, the lad, who was conscious, said that he thought that his ankle had been broken. peggy touched the ankle he indicated, and light as her fingers fell upon it, the boy uttered an anguished moan. "oh, gee, peg!" he cried bravely, screwing up his face in his endeavor not to make an outcry, "that hurts like blazes." "poor boy," breathed peggy tenderly, "i'm so sorry." "i'm so glad you're not hurt, sis," said the boy, "i don't matter much. i wish you could stop this bleeding above my eye, though." peggy ripped off a flounce of her petticoat and formed it into a bandage. "can i help. i'm so sorry." the voice was fanning harding's. he stood behind her with regina at his side. "oh, how dreadful." exclaimed the dark-eyed girl, with a shudder, "my--my poor car." "and my poor brother," snapped out peggy, indignantly, "if it hadn't been for your stupid idea of racing this wouldn't have happened. i just knew we'd have an accident." "it's too bad," repeated fanning, "but can't i do something?" "yes, get me some water. there's a brook a little way down this road. you'll find a tin cup under the rear seat in our machine." fanning, perhaps glad to escape peggy's righteous anger, hastened off on the errand. regina flounced down on a stone by the roadside and moaned. "oh, this is fearful. why can't we get a doctor? oh, my poor car. it will never be the same again." "nonsense," said peggy, sharply, "it can easily be repaired. but you don't think i'm worrying about your car now, do you?" "i don't know, i'm sure," quavered regina, "i know it's all terrible. is your brother badly hurt?" "no. fortunately he only has this cut in his head and a broken ankle. it might have been far worse." regina wandered away. somehow she felt that peggy had taken a sudden dislike to her. she sauntered toward the car. suddenly she stopped and her large eyes grew larger. in the middle of the road, just as they had been hurled from roy's pocket, lay a side-comb studded with brilliants and an old battered wallet. "oh!" cried the girl, with an exclamation that was half a sob, "oh, what good fortune. so he was keeping that as evidence against me, eh? well, perhaps this accident was providential, after all." she picked up the comb and then turned her attention to the wallet. giving a quick glance around to see that she was unobserved the girl plunged her white fingers into the pocket case. they encountered something crisp and crackly. she drew the object out. "a twenty-dollar bill!" she exclaimed wonderingly, "and nothing else. i wonder if this can have anything to do with----." she was turning it over curiously as she spoke. suddenly a red spot flamed up in her either cheek. "it's marked with a red round o," she exclaimed, "what a bit of evidence. so master roy prescott, you were planning to unmask me by that side-comb, were you? well, i shall play the same trick on you with this bill." fanning harding was coming back at that moment with the cup full of water. the girl checked him with an excited gesture. "fortune has played into our hands," she cried, "look here!" "well, what is it?" asked fanning, rather testily. "this bill. don't you see it's one of the stolen ones. look at the red circle upon the back." "jove! so it is. but, what, how----" "hush! don't talk so loud. this wallet, which contained it, was jolted out of roy prescott's pocket when he was hurled from the machine. the wallet and--and something else. but don't you see what power that gives us?" "no. i confess i'm stupid, but----" "oh, how dense you boys are," exclaimed regina, with an impatient stamp of the foot, "don't you see that this bill will come pretty close to proving roy prescott a thief, if we want to use it that way? you are a witness that i found it in his wallet which had been jerked out of his pocket. isn't that enough?" "well, men have been sent to prison on less evidence," said fanning, with a shrug; "but i've got to hurry up with this water or they'll suspect something. i'll talk more with you about this later on. your father and mine need every bit of fighting material they can get hold of, if we are to win the big prize for the mortlake aeroplane." a shadow fell athwart the road as fanning, an evil smile on his flabby, pale face, hastened down into the depression in which roy, with peggy bending above him, still lay. the girl looked swiftly up. a big, red aeroplane was hovering on high. presently one of its occupants, a girl peered over the edge. the next minute she turned and said something in an excited tone to her companion. the aeroplane began to drop rapidly. in a few seconds it came to earth in the roadway, not a stone's throw from the wrecked auto and its uninjured blue bird comrade. the new arrivals were jimsy and jess. they had set out on a sky cruise to the prescott home, and jess's bright eyes had espied the confusion in the road beneath them as they flew over. the swift descent had been the result. hardly noticing regina, who regarded them curiously, the young sky sailors hastened toward the spot in which, from on high, they had seen the injured boy lying. a warm wave of gratitude swept over peggy as she looked up at the sound of footsteps and saw who the newcomers were. in an emergency like the present one she could not wish for two better helpers than the bancrofts. jess and jimsy had been off on a visit and so had not been made aware of the fact that fanning had returned to sandy beach. their astonishment on seeing him may be imagined. jess regarded him with a tinge of disdain, but the frank and open jimsy grasped the outstretched hand which the son of the sandy beach banker extended to him. evidently fanning's policy was one of conciliation and he meant to press it to the uttermost. "well, this is a nice fix, isn't it?" murmured roy, smiling pluckily, as the bancrofts came toward him with pitying looks, "but where in the world did you come from?" "from yonder sky," grinned jimsy, trying, not very successfully, to assume an inanely cheerful tone, "not badly hurt, old man, are you?" "no. just this wallop over my eye and a twisted ankle. thought it was broken at first, but i guess it isn't." "how did it all happen?" peggy explained. jimsy whistled. "what make of machine is your car, fanning?" he asked. "a dashaway," was the rejoinder. "the same type as ours," exclaimed young bancroft. "they are the best and stanchest cars on the market. i can't understand how such an accident could have happened, unless----," he paused and then went on resolutely, "unless the car had been tampered with." "what an idea!" shrilled regina, who had now joined the group, "you don't surely mean to insinuate? why the damage done to my poor machine will cost a lot to repair, and----." "don't mind if i have a look at it, do you?" asked jimsy in his most careless manner, "i'm interested, you know. a motor bug is what dad calls me." "well i----," began fanning. but regina interrupted him with strange eagerness. "oh, by no means. look at it all you wish. i only hope you can find some explanation for this regrettable accident." "i hope so, too," said jimsy gravely, "but in the meantime let's make roy comfortable in the blue bird. then, if we can fix your car up, miss----." "oh, i beg your pardon," struck in peggy, "jimsy, this is miss mortlake, fanning you know. miss mortlake these are our particular chums, jess and jimsy bancroft." "indeed. i have heard a great deal about you," vouchsafed regina, as jimsy and fanning lifted roy and carried him to the blue bird and made him comfortable on the cushions. "i'll attend to the other car," volunteered fanning, readily. but jimsy was not to be put off in this way. "i'd like to have a look at it before we try to put the wheel back," he said; "it may be a useful bit of experience." "all right," assented fanning, rather sullenly, "if you insist; but i think we ought to hurry back at once." "by all means," quoth the bland jimsy, "but--hullo, what's this!" he was stooping over the wheels now. "this wheel has been tampered with. the holding cap must have been partially unscrewed. look here!" he held up the brass cap which was supposed to keep the wheel on its axle. "some of the threads have been filed out of this," he said positively. "let's have a look," said fanning eagerly. he leaned over and scrutinized the part which jimsy was examining. "those threads haven't been filed," he said, "they've worn. very careless not to have noticed that. it's surprising that it held on so long." "it might have held for a year if the car was run at average speed," said jimsy slowly, "but the minute it was raced beyond its normal rate the weak part would have gone." "what do you mean to imply?" blustered fanning, though his face was pale and his breath came quickly. "i don't imply anything," said jimsy slowly, "but i'd like to know who filed this cap down." "pshaw! you are dreaming," scoffed fanning. a dull flush overspread jimsy's ordinarily placid face. "after a while i'll wake up, maybe," he said, "and then----." he stopped. "well, let's see about getting roy home," he said, "peggy, you can drive the blue bird and fanning and miss mortlake can sit in the other machine as soon as we get the wheel back. then jess and i will go ahead in the _red dragon fly_ and break the news to miss prescott." shortly thereafter the two autos moved slowly off, while the aeroplane raced above them, going at a far faster speed. regina turned to fanning. "do you think that odious boy suspects anything?" she asked. "i guess he does. but he can't prove a thing, so that's all the good it will do him," scoffed fanning, "and besides, if they get too gay we've got a marked bill that will make it very unpleasant for a certain young aviator." chapter xviii. a bolt prom the blue. the broken ankle which both peggy and roy had dreaded, turned out to be only a sprain--affecting the same unlucky ankle that had been injured on the desert. this was a big relief, as a broken joint would have kept roy effectually out of the aeroplane tests, as part of the machinery of the _golden butterfly_ was controlled by foot pressure. a council of war was in progress on the porch of the prescott home. the participants were the inseparable four. peggy and roy, the latter with his injured foot on a stool, and jess and jimsy. they had been discussing the case against mortlake and fanning harding. all agreed that things looked as black against them as could be, but--where was the proof? there was not an iota of evidence against them that would hold water an instant before impartial judges. "it's positively depressing," sighed jess, "to know that people have done mean things and not be able to get an atom of proof against them." "never mind," said peggy, "all's well that ends well. we start for hampton to-morrow and once there they won't have a chance to try any more tricks. luckily all their mean plans and schemes have ended in nothing. roy will be as good as ever by to-morrow, won't you boy?" roy nodded. "i've got to be," he said, decisively; "those tests have got to bring the _golden butterfly_ out on top." "and they will, too," declared jess, with a nod of her dark head, "that poky old harding and his crowd won't have a word to say when they are over." "let's hope not. it doesn't do to be too confident, you know," smiled peggy, throwing an arm round the waist of her enthusiastic friend. "as the man said when he thought he'd lassoed a horse but found he'd roped his own foot instead;" grinned jimsy, "but, say, what's all this coming up the road?" sure enough, a small crowd of ten or a dozen persons could be seen approaching the prescott house. they were coming from the direction of the mortlake plant. in advance, as they drew nearer, could be seen mortlake himself, with a tall man by his side and fanning harding. the men behind seemed to be workmen from the plant. "wonder where they can be going to?" queried jess, idly. for a few moments more they watched the advancing throng, and then jimsy cried suddenly: "why, that's sheriff lawley with mortlake, and there's si hardscrabble the constable, right behind them, what can they be after?" "clues," laughed peggy, but the laugh faded on her lips as she exclaimed: "why--why, they're coming here!" "here!" echoed the others. "yes, that's what they are;" confirmed jimsy, as the procession passed inside the wicket gate and came up the gravelled pathway toward the house. sheriff lawley had on his stiffest professional air and si hardscrabble's chest was puffed out like a pouter pidgeon. on it glistened, like a newly scoured pie-plate, the emblem of his authority--an immense nickel star as big as a sunflower. "roy prescott here?" demanded the sheriff in a high, official tone. he had known roy since he was a boy, but seemed to think it a part of his majestic duties to appear not to know him. "miss prescott--i--that is--er--this is a very unpleasant business--i hope----." it was mortlake stammering. he mopped the sweat from his forehead as the sheriff interrupted him. "that will do mr. mortlake. leave the discharge of my official duties to me, please." "that's right, by heck," chorused the constable, approvingly. "what's the matter, sheriff?" asked roy, easily. as yet not a glint of the truth of this visit had dawned upon him. "why, roy, it's about that thar robbery at galloways t'other night," sputtered the sheriff, looking rather embarrassed, "we've come to the conclusion that you know more about it than you told, and----," he dived into a pocket and drew out an official-looking paper, "an' i got a warrant fer your arrest." "my arrest!" stammered roy, "why you must be mad. what on earth do i know about it?" "nothin', only you happened to hev' a marked bill in your pocket t'other day," shot out the sheriff, triumphantly. "fanning harding step forward. what do you know about this?" "only this, that miss regina mortlake after the automobile accident found a wallet belonging to roy prescott in the roadway. she opened it and discovered that it contained a marked twenty-dollar bill answering the description of one of the bills stolen from the galloway farm house. she made me a witness of the find, and in line with my duty as a citizen, i thought it best to expose the thief, and----." fanning stopped and turned pale as a boyish figure sprang toward him with doubled fists. he shrank back, turning a sickly yellow. "you contemptible sneak!" shouted jimsy, whose fists it had been that threatened fanning. "sheriff, i claim protection," said the cowardly youth, shrinking behind the official. "now, no fisticuffs here," warned the sheriff, "my only duty now is to preserve order and arrest roy prescott on a charge of grand larceny." peggy turned white and sick. the veranda floor seemed to heave up and down like sea waves under her feet. but in the next few seconds she regained control of herself. "why such a charge is absurd," she declared vehemently, "this is simply spite on the part of our rivals in the aeroplane business." "don't know nuthin' about that," reiterated the sheriff, stolidly, "the warrant has bin sworn out an' it's my duty ter execute it. constable, arrest that boy. ef his foot is too bad hurt to walk, git a rig an' drive him in ter town." hardscrabble, flushed and swollen with importance, stepped forward. he was about to place his hand on roy's shoulder, but the boy checked him. "no need for that. peggy, if you'll have them get out the auto, we'll drive into town at once." mortlake stepped forward. "prescott," he said, "i hope you don't hold this against me. i----." "i don't wish to speak to you, sir," shot out roy, for the first time betraying indignation, "let that be your answer." "but i--really, i'm sorry to--bancroft you'll listen----" but jimsy turned his back on the flushed, overfed man whose eyes could not look him in the face. "in the future please do us the honor not to speak to us," he said, his voice vibrant with anger. "why, if i may ask?" jimsy flashed round. "because, if you don't pay attention to my request i'm afraid i shall be unable to curb my desire to land both my fists in your eyes." mortlake drew back and turned away among his workmen. he did not speak again. before long the auto came round. in the meantime peggy had taken upon herself the task of consoling miss prescott. poor aunt sallie, she took the news very hardly. it was all peggy could do to keep her from rushing out upon the porch and denouncing the entire assemblage. "that mortlake," she cried, "i'd like to scratch his eyes out." the proceedings in sandy beach before the local magistrate, ephraim gray, were brief. isaac galloway, the farmer, told of the robbery and of his knowledge that the marked bill was among the money. he followed this up by relating the fact that roy had been in the house in the afternoon and had seen the safe. then came fanning, and to the girl's astonishment, regina mortlake, both of whom swore to finding the marked bill in the wallet in the road. "do you deny that this was your wallet?" asked the magistrate, holding up the leather case after he had examined the marked bill. "i do," declared roy in a firm voice. "what! you did not drop it?" "i dropped it, but it is not mine," was the stout reply. "then what was it doing in your possession?" "do i have to answer that question, now?" "it will be better to--yes." "well, then, i found it in the cellar of a house to which i was lured by two men whom i am confident were employed by this hound mortlake." "be careful," warned the magistrate, "mr. mortlake is a respected member of this community. your display of ill-will does you no good. as for your story of how you found the wallet you can tell that to a jury later on. my present duty is to hold you in bonds of $ , for trial." a deep breath, like a sigh, went through the courtroom. in the midst of it an active, upright figure stepped forward. it was lieut. bradbury, who had arrived in the courtroom just in time to hear the concluding words. but he had already been informed of the facts, for the story was on every tongue in the village. "i am prepared to offer that bail," he said. but peggy had been before him. with her mine shares she had a good bank account and was able to offer cash security. this was accepted almost before the young officer reached the judge's desk. peggy thanked the lieutenant with a look. she could not trust herself to speak. "of course," said the magistrate, "the fact that the defendant is under bonds will prohibit his leaving the state. that is understood." mortlake nudged fanning harding. this was what they had cunningly calculated on. with roy safely bottled up in new york state, it would be manifestly impossible for him to take part in the contests at hampton in virginia. while they conversed in low, eager tones, peggy and lieutenant bradbury could be seen talking in another corner. court had been adjourned, but the curious crowd still lingered. jess and jimsy stood by roy, fencing off the inquisitive villagers and would-be sympathizers. the whole thing had taken place so rapidly that they all felt dazed and bewildered. suddenly the thought of what his detention meant dawned upon roy. "we'll be out of the race for the naval contracts," he almost moaned. it was the first sign he had shown of giving way. but peggy was at his side in an instant. "no, we won't, roy," she exclaimed, her eyes brilliant with excitement, "i've asked lieutenant bradbury, and he says it's unusual, but he doesn't see why a woman should be barred from flying in the contests. there's nothing in the rules about it, anyway." "oh, peg--gy!" gasped jess, "you would----" "do anything within reason to balk that mortlake crowd in their trickery and deceit," declared peggy, with flashing eyes. "and we'll stand by you," announced jimsy, stepping forward; "we'll go with you to hampton, and we'll bring home the bacon!" the inexcusable slang went unreproved. jimsy's enthusiasm was contagious. "thank you, jimsy," said peggy, winking to keep back the tears that would come, "we--we--i--that--is----" "we'll beat them out yet. the bunch of sneaks, and it's my opinion that mortlake himself knows all about who robbed that safe!" cried jimsy, not taking the trouble to sink his voice. he faced defiantly about and caught mortlake's eye. it was instantly averted, and catching fanning by the arm he hastened from the courtroom. "i wonder what mischief those young cubs are hatching up now?" he said, as the two hastened off, bending their steps toward old mr. harding's bank. "it doesn't make much difference," chuckled fanning, "we've got that contract nailed down and delivered now." chapter xix. the gathering of the man-birds. the aeroplanes--a dozen in all, that had been selected by various naval "sharps" from all over the widely distributed portions of the country for the weeding out of the best type--were quartered in a broad meadow not far from the town of hampton. the locality had been chosen as removed from the reach of the ordinary run of curiosity seekers, who had flocked from all parts of the country to be present at the first tests of aeroplanes as actual naval adjuncts. sheds had been provided for the accommodation of each type. and above each shed was the name of the aeroplane it housed, printed in small letters. one of the first things that mortlake and fanning harding proceeded to do on their arrival at this "bivouac" was to make a tour of the row of sheds in search of the prescott machine. but to their joy, apparently, no shed housed it. there were machines of dozens of other types, monoplanes, bi-planes, machines of the helicopter type, and a few devices based on the parachute principle. but no prescott. the names the various machines bore were weird: the _sky pilot_, the _cloud chaser_, the _star bug_, the _moon mounter_, the _aerial auto_, the _heavenly harvester_, and some titles even more far-fetched graced the sheds, so that it was small wonder that in this maze of high-sounding names a shed at the far end of the row bearing the obscure title of nameless missed the scrutiny of mortlake and his aide. "we've beaten them to a standstill this time," said mortlake with intense conviction, "i feel that the _motor hornet_ has the contest cinched." the _motor hornet_ was the name that had been bestowed on the machine which roy had poetically dubbed the _silver cobweb_. the shed of the mysterious nameless was the only one of the long row that did not buzz with activity all that day, which was one assigned to preparation for the contests of the morrow. all the other aeroplane hives fairly radiated activity. freakish-looking men hovered about their weird helicopters and lovingly polished brass and tested engines. the reek of gasolene and burning lubricants hung heavily over the field. reporters darted here and there followed by panting photographers bearing elephantine cameras and bulging boxes of plates, for the metropolitan press was "playing up" the tests which were expected to produce a definite aerial type of machine for the united states navy. but even the most inquisitive of the news-getters failed to get anything from within the mysterious realms occupied presumably by the nameless. its roller-fitted double doors remained closed, and no sign of activity appeared about it. this was conceded on all sides to be extraordinary, but all the speculation which was indulged in failed to elucidate the mystery. "the nameless is also the ungetatable," joked one reporter as he and a companion passed by. but if anyone had been about late that night, long after the aviators who had quarters at the hotels in town had quitted the field, he would have seen three figures--two girls and a boy, steal across the field from an auto which had driven up almost noiselessly, and unfasten the formidable padlocks on the doors of the nameless's dwelling place. this done they vanished within the shed for a short time, and presently thereafter a dark and strangely shaped form slowly emerged from the shed. it was the _golden butterfly_, and the trio of young folks were, as you have already guessed, peggy, jess and jimsy. they crawled noiselessly on board, and a few minutes later, with a soft whirring of the propellers, the _butterfly_ shut down for precaution's sake to half speed, sped almost noiselessly upward. the night was a calm one. hardly a leaf was stirring and the stars shone like steel points in a cloudless sky. the aeroplane, after it had attained a few hundred feet, seemed to merge into the dark background of night sky. unless one had known of its flight it would have taken a sharp pair of eyes to have discerned it. "say, this is glorious. it's like being pirates or--or something," said jimsy enthusiastically, as soon as they had reached a height where they felt they could talk without difficulty. "it's great after being penned up all day at that hotel," agreed peggy, who was at the wheel, "how beautiful the stars are. poor roy, i wonder how he is getting along?" "you know he was doing splendidly when we left, and he has our telegrams by this time," said jess; "oh, peggy, i'm so glad that the board of naval aviation said you could fly the _golden butterfly_." "oh, weren't they taken aback, though, at the idea?" chuckled jimsy; "i thought that dignified old officer would fall out of his chair at the idea of a girl daring to run an aeroplane. i'll bet if there'd been anything in the rules about it, peggy, they'd have barred you." "i think so, too," laughed peggy, "but, luckily, there wasn't. as lieut. bradbury pointed out, it was a case of an emergency. it isn't as if i'd tried to 'butt in,' as you say, jimsy." "well, i'm sure i don't see why a girl shouldn't run an aeroplane just as well as a boy. you certainly showed that you could, peggy, when you raced that train back in nevada." "in years to come," prophesied peggy, "i dare say women as aviators will be as common as men. i don't see why not. ten years ago a woman who ran an automobile would have been laughed at, if not insulted. but now, why lots of women run their own cars and nobody thinks of even turning his head." "hear! hear!" cried jimsy, "i declare i feel like a lone man at a suffragette meeting." "then conduct yourself as if you were actually in that dangerous position," laughed peggy. the girl's spirits were rising now under the excitement of the night ride. on the advice of lieut. bradbury the party from sandy beach had kept closely to their rooms at the hotel all that day. it was at the officer's advice, too, that their shed had been labeled the nameless. "if mortlake was, as i begin to think, concerned in these attacks on you," the officer had said, "i think it would be advisable not to appear any more than necessary. let him think that you are out of the race." accordingly, the _butterfly_ had been transported secretly and placed in her shed at night. the secret had been well guarded and, as we know, neither mortlake nor fanning harding had even an inkling that the prescott machine was far--very far from being out of the race. on and on through the night throbbed the _golden butterfly_, making fast time. at last they decided that it was time to return. the object of the trip, to see that all was in running order, had been accomplished. nothing remained to do now but to wait for the morrow and what it would bring forth. the nature of the tests had been carefully guarded, and not one of the contestants knew anything about what they were to be till the hour came at which they would be announced from the judges' boat. suddenly, as they neared the environs of hampton and the glare of electric lights could be seen on the sky, jimsy gave a cry and pointed down below. they were flying pretty low, and in a road beneath them they could see an automobile. its headlights shone brightly but it had stopped. all at once a sharp shout for help winged upward. "hullo!" exclaimed jimsy, "somebody's in trouble down there. maybe we'd better descend. that is, if you girls aren't scared?" "um--well," began jess, but peggy interrupted her: "jess bancroft, i'm ashamed of you. it's our duty to help out if we can." "at least if it gets too hot we can always retreat," muttered jimsy. under the covering of one of the lockers was a revolver. under peggy's directions jimsy found it. the next moment they were descending rapidly. with hardly more noise than an alighting night bird, they dropped into the lane in which the auto was stalled. as they touched ground the sound of harsh voices caught their ears: "shell out now, if you don't want to be half-killed!" "yes, come on. hand over your coin, or it'll be the worse for you," chimed in another ruffianly voice. "good gracious!" gasped jess, "it's a hold up!" but now another voice came through the darkness. "i suppose you fellows know that you are breaking the law and in danger of imprisonment if you are caught?" "now, what is there that's familiar about that voice?" puzzled peggy, racking her brains. "aw, don't preach sermons to us, boss," came one of the gruff voices, "we needs the money and we ain't particular how we gits it, see. fork over now, or----" the sentence was never completed. there was a sudden flash and a sharp report. the man in the automobile had defended himself apparently, for there came the sound of a heavy body falling, and then his voice: "i hope i haven't hurt you badly; but you brought it on yourself, as your companion can witness." the next instant, and just as jimsy sprang forward from the clump of brush at the roadside which had hitherto concealed the aero party--there came a heavy rush of feet toward them. a dark form, running pantingly, appeared. jimsy, with a dexterous outward thrust of his foot, tripped the fleeing man, who came down heavily in the center of the road and started howling for mercy. in the meantime, the occupant of the automobile had climbed down, and detaching one of the lamps, examined the wounded man lying in the road beyond jimsy's capture. as the rays of his light swung to and fro they hovered for an instant on peggy's white, strained face leaning forward above jimsy's prisoner, upon whose neck the redoubtable young bancroft was now sitting. "miss prescott, by all that's wonderful!" came an amazed voice. there was no mistaking that bold, straightforward voice now. it was james bell, the mining magnate and their kind friend. "oh, mr. bell," cried peggy, half hysterically, "we're so glad you've come!" chapter xx. an unexpected meeting. as mr. bell spoke, the fellow who had apparently been shot, leaped to his feet and was about to make off, but the westerner's iron hand seized him by the scruff of the neck, and brought him up "all standing." simultaneously, jimsy's captive gave a wrench and a twist and would have escaped but for peggy. the girl seized a small nickled wrench out of the _golden butterfly_. in the dark it looked not unlike a pistol. "you'd b-b-b-better stay w-w-w-where you are," said peggy, in a voice which, though rather shaky, was still courageous. the fellow took the hint, and just then mr. bell came up with his capture, who had merely been "playing possum." the two men were thoroughly cowed, and were trembling violently. "don't be hard on us guv'ner," wailed one of them; "we didn't mean no harm." "no; it was just a little joke," protested jimsy's prisoner, who was standing in the rays of the detached auto light, thoroughly subdued. "it's a joke that's liable to cost you dear," commented mr. bell. "jimsy," he added, for by this time recognition and greetings had passed between the mining magnate and jess and jimsy, "jimsy, have you got a bit of rope handy, my boy?" jimsy rummaged in the _golden butterfly's_ tool and supply locker and presently unearthed a coil of fine cotton cord of stout texture. this was speedily applied to the hands of the two men, and loose thongs placed about their legs. while this work was going forward peggy had been scrutinizing the faces of the two prisoners with a startled look. there was something very familiar about both of them. all at once it flashed across her where she had encountered them before. they were the two men who had held up jess and herself in the road to the galloway farm that eventful afternoon on which they had taken refuge from the storm. she whispered to jess her suspicions. her chum instantly confirmed them. here was news indeed. after the men had been tied and placed in the tonneau of mr. bell's car, peggy called a council of war. in a few words she told mr. bell of all that had happened since they had returned to the east, and narrated the part the two prisoners had played in it. "good heavens, just to think i've come to the tame and effete east to plunge into the midst of such an exciting mix-up," laughed mr. bell, "i was in roanoke seeing about the shipment of some supplies when i saw, in a newspaper, that the contests for the naval contract were to take place here. i had had no idea from your letters that they were so near at hand. as i had some time to spare, i thought i'd run over to hampton in my machine and see how you made out." "and we providentially happened to fly across you!" cried jimsy. "truth is stranger than fiction, after all." "but what are we to do with those two rascals now that we have caught them?" wondered peggy; "if we take them into hampton and turn them over to the authorities mortlake will know of it and may make more trouble. i wonder if they know much about him and his schemes. i recollect now that i've seen them hanging about his aeroplane plant. i couldn't call to mind then where i had seen them before, but i suppose the shock of coming upon them so unexpectedly to-night jogged my memory." "you say that they were hanging about mortlake's place?" asked mr. bell, in an interested tone. "yes, i'm sure of it," repeated peggy; "i'm certain of it now." "we'll soon find out," said mr. bell in his old determined manner. he approached the car in which the two bound captives were still huddled. "now, you fellows," he said in stern voice, "you know better than i do, most likely, what the penalty for attempted highway robbery is in the state of virginia." "oh, guv'ner, don't turn us over to the police," wailed one of the men, none other, in fact, than our old acquaintance, joey eccles. his companion, the angular and lanky slim, remained silent. "i want you to answer my questions truthfully," snapped out the westerner, "after that i'll see what i'll do with you. now then--do you know a man named mortlake?" "y-y-y-yus, guv'ner," stammered the redoubtable joey. "good. you came here with him?" "well, what if we did?" growled the hitherto silent slim. paying no attention to him mr. bell went on, while his young companions pressed eagerly about him. "what did you come for?" joey seemed about to speak but slim growled something in a low tone to him, and he was silent. "come, are you going to answer?" demanded mr. bell. no reply. "very well, i'll drive into hampton and see if the chief of police can't get more out of you." the mining magnate made a step toward the car as if he were about to carry out his threat. this was too much for joey's composure. "we came here with mortlake to do a little job fer him guv'ner," he sputtered out. "oh, you did, eh? well, what was the nature of that employment?" "to disable one of them flying machines." "which one?" "one that belonged to the prescott kids. mortlake said he'd make it worth our while--and--no, you can't stop me, slim--and then when we couldn't find the machine we was to bust up he turned us loose without a cent of the money he promised us. we was broke, and----" "and so you thought you'd replenish your pockets by holding up some automobilist or traveller, eh? humph, you're a nice pair." "you ain't goin' ter give us up guv'ner? i told you the honest truth, guv'ner. didn't i, slim?" "yep," was the grunted reply; "and now mister what's-yer-name, what are you going ter do with us?" "i'm going to take you on a trip," was the astonishing reply. "on a trip, guv'ner," stammered joey, all his fears lively once more. "yes, on a trip." the younger members of this strange roadside party stepped forward. as they advanced into the glare of the detached headlight, joey and his companions saw them. both men turned away and seemed much embarrassed. "what are you going to do, mr. bell?" asked peggy, eagerly. the mining man's manner had become almost mysterious. "my dear, little girl," said james bell, "can you trust me?" "why, of course," came in a chorus. "well, then, you'll let me work this thing out my own way and i'll guarantee that things will be straightened out for everybody--are you willing to let me do this and ask no questions till the proper time?" "yes," came in a positive chant of assent. "very well, then. you fly back to your shed. i'll continue into town. you may not see me for some time. but don't worry. i've got this job in hand now and i'll see it through." "we trust you absolutely," said peggy, "and you'll trust us?" "to the last ditch," said the westerner vehemently, "and now as there's no time to be lost, we'll go our respective ways. by the way, what time does the first test come off?" "we don't know yet; but some time before noon. it is rumored that it will be an easy one. they'll work up to the difficult flights by degrees," volunteered jimsy. "good. i'd like to have all the time possible as i wish to do what i have to do thoroughly." with this mr. bell adjusted the headlight he had removed and climbed into his car. with a wave and shouted farewell, he was off. "gracious, i feel as if i'd been shaken up in one of those kaleidoscopes or whatever you call them," gasped jess, "it all seems like part of a dream." "things certainly have been happening quickly," agreed peggy, "but i feel more at ease now than for a long time. mr. bell has the case in hand, and----" "he'll see it through and fix it right," interposed jimsy, enthusiastically. as there was nothing to be gained by lingering about the scene of their strange encounter and stranger adventure, the party of youthful aviators clambered back into the _golden butterfly_ and once more winged aloft. it was a short dash to their shed and they reached it without incident. then, with hearts that felt lighter for the brisk, healthy influence of breezy james bell, they trudged to the small hotel at which they were stopping, in order to avoid being seen by mortlake and his aides till the last moment. chapter xxi. the start of the sky cruise. "the first flight is to be to cape charles and return, a distance of sixty miles, approximately," announced jimsy the next morning. he held in his hand a small blue folder which had been issued to all the contestants. it contained the rules and regulations governing the first day's tests. a hasty breakfast was followed by a quick trip to the grounds in one of the ancient hacks that seem to swarm in hampton. if the starting field had been a scene of confusion the day before, it was a veritable chaos now. smoke and the fumes of gasolene hung like a pall above it. through the bluish cloud could be seen dim figures hurrying with cans of fuel or lubricant, bags of tools and engine parts. "reminds me of circus day," commented jimsy, looking about him; "hullo, there's the _cobweb_ out already," he exclaimed presently. across the field could be seen the silvery wings of the mortlake aeroplane. several figures hovered about her, adjusting stays and putting finishing touches to her complicated mechanism. presently a hush settled over the scene, and the party of naval officers, detailed to superintend the start and take the times of the competing craft, came through the crowd. they were directing their steps to an unpainted wooden structure at one end of the field. this building was equipped with various instruments for recording time accurately. from it also would presently be given out the wind velocity and any other data of interest to the aviators. the party in full uniform swung past our three young adventurers. lieutenant bradbury was among them. he bowed and was about to pass on when he stopped and fell back. "now, don't get nervous, and do your best," he said to peggy; "i'm sure that we shall all have reason to be proud of the _golden butterfly_ before these tests are over." "i hope so," rejoined peggy; "we shall do our best, at any rate." "i know you will, and now if you'll excuse me i must be hurrying on. the board has an immense amount of work to do before ten o'clock, the official starting hour." the trio, left to themselves, made for the shed which bore the legend "nameless" above its door. many curious eyes followed them as they paused before it, and jimsy inserted a key in the stout padlock. who could the two pretty girls in natty motor bonnets, with goggles attached, the plain, heavy skirts and dark shirt-waists be? speculation ran rife. there was a regular stampede of reporters and photographers to the shed of the nameless. but when they arrived there, to their chagrin, they found that their prospective victims had slipped inside and only the blank doors greeted them. among the crowd that hastened to try to solve the mystery of the nameless was fanning harding, whose attention had been attracted by the rush of the crowd. at his side was regina mortlake. they arrived just in time to hear somebody say: "it's two pretty girls and a good-looking boy. they're just kids." fanning and regina exchanged glances. the girl actually turned pale. "they are here after all," she exclaimed, "and i thought you said they weren't." "well, how on earth was i to know that they had hidden their machine under that name. there are so many freak craft here that----" "you are more of an idiot than i thought you," said the girl, impatiently; "all our work has gone for nothing." "no; there is time yet. if only eccles and that other chap hadn't decamped like that last night, we might have put them to work to-night." "they decamped--as you call it--because your father wouldn't give them any more money," said regina with flashing eyes, "that was inexcusable folly. they know too many of our secrets to allow them to wander about unwatched." "oh, two tramps like that wouldn't have the sense to make any use of what they know," rejoined fanning easily, "besides----" but regina mortlake's mind was busy on another tack. "isn't it against the rules for women or girls to drive machines in this contest?" she asked. "say!" fanning's eyes glistened, "i guess it is. let's find out. if peggy prescott is going to drive that machine we may be able to head them off yet." the two conspirators hastened across the field to the unpainted wooden shack that housed the committee. a crowd surged about it asking questions and demanding impossible things. it was some time before fanning, elbowing people right and left as he was, could reach the front. he scanned a printed list of the entries for the contest hung on the wall. as he read it he blamed himself bitterly for not looking at it the day before. near the bottom was the name "nameless, entrant miss margaret prescott." suddenly the disgruntled youth spied lieut. bradbury. "a moment," he cried. as the young officer turned, fanning, without a word of greeting, bellowed out: "ain't it against the rules for a girl to drive an aeroplane in this contest." "not that i am aware of," rejoined the officer. he reached over to a stack of pink booklets. "here's a book of rules. read it." "hold on," cried fanning, as the officer moved off, "i want to make a protest i----" "make your protest in writing. no verbal ones will be considered," said the officer briefly. "but see here----" "i've no time to talk now, mr. harding. good morning," and the officer passed on. the crowd began to grin, and soon laughed openly. this enraged fanning the more. he angrily shoved his way to the outskirts where regina was awaiting him. "well?" she said, lifting her dark eyebrows. "well," echoed fanning in a surly tone, "it's no go." "no go. what do you mean?" "i mean that there isn't anything in the rules, apparently, to prevent a woman or a girl driving an aeroplane if she wants to." "come and let's see my father," suggested the girl, presently, "he'll want to know about this. it may mean a complete change of our plans." "you'll have to change 'em to beat the _golden butterfly_," muttered fanning; "if only those drawings hadn't been lost we'd have had that balancer, and it looks to me as if we might need it before we get to cape charles." "why?" "the wind's freshening. not more than a half dozen of these aeroplanes will venture up. bother the luck, if it wasn't for the _golden butterfly_, we'd have a clean sweep." "this is only the first day," counseled regina; "the points scored to-day will not count for so very much. there's plenty of time." "humph," grumbled fanning, and as this conversation had brought them up to the _silver cobweb_, he broke it off to communicate his intelligence concerning the prescott aeroplane to mortlake, who heard it with a lowering brow. bang! a bomb shot upward and exploded, in a cloud of thick yellow smoke, in mid-air. "the half-hour signal," cried jimsy; "everything ready?" "as ready as it ever will be," rejoined peggy nervously fingering a stay wire. the navigators of the nameless were still inside the shed. the doors were still closed. peggy had decided not to risk having the machine damaged by the crowd by bringing it out before the very last moment. as the bomb sounded jimsy drew out his watch. he kept it in his hand awaiting the elapse of the preliminary half-hour. outside, as fanning had prophesied, there had been a great and sweeping reduction in the number of aeroplanes that were to start. the puffy wind had scared most of the entrants of the freak types and only five of the more conventional kind of aircraft were on the starting line. the _silver cobweb_ was among them. fanning was in the driver's seat. as a passenger he carried regina mortlake. she looked very stunning in her lurid aviation costume, and her handsome face was as calm as chiseled marble. her nervousness only displayed itself by a constant tapping of her gauntleted fingers. fanning finished oiling the motor and adjusting grease cups and timers, and straightening up, glanced nervously about him. still no sign of the nameless. "i guess they've got scared off by the wind," he grinned to mortlake, who, with the elder harding and several machinists, stood by the side of the _cobweb_. "i doubt it," rejoined mortlake; "it would take more than that to alarm those girls. and just to think that all our trouble to out-maneuver them has gone for nothing." "you did a bad thing when you let eccles and that other chap get away," commented fanning; "i don't like their disappearance at all." "why?" "well, for one thing, they know a good deal that would make it very awkward for us if they fell into the hands of anyone who disliked us. and again----" "pshaw! you are alarming yourself over nothing. they were well paid and they wouldn't dare to make trouble. if they told about us they'd implicate themselves." "just the same i don't feel easy. hullo! there goes the second bomb. that fellow's just going to touch it off, and----" at the same instant the doors of the nameless's shed were flung open. from them emerged the glistening form of the golden-winged _butterfly_. half a dozen men whom jimsy had hired pushed the aerial craft rapidly across the field to the starting line. so engrossed was the crowd in watching the other machines that they hardly noticed the arrival of the added starter. but not so mortlake and his companions. they watched, with jaundiced eyes, the forthcoming of their dreaded rival, and if wishes could have disabled her, the _golden butterfly_ would never have flown on that day. b-o-o-m! the echoes of the second bomb rang deafeningly. "they're off!" yelled the crowd, as if there might have been some doubt of it. up into the puffy air winged six aeroplanes. it was a glorious sight. from the chassis of the various air craft the airmen waved farewells to the cheering crowd. flying, wing and wing, they dashed off toward where the sea lay, a deep blue patch, beyond the shore. presently they faded into dots and then were blotted out altogether. "there's a thick haze out there," said one of the officers, as the aeroplanes vanished. the word ran through the crowd and created a momentary sensation. then the big throng dismissed the flying aeroplanes from its mind, and wandered about the grounds gazing openmouthed at the freak types, whose inventors were willing enough--too willing--to explain their remarkable points. it might be a long time before the first of the homing craft would come in sight and what was the use of worrying about them. only in the wooden structure housing the naval officers was there any concern displayed. "if it's thick weather," said lieutenant bradbury, summing up a discussion, "they're going to have some trouble on their hands out there." chapter xxii. the white peril. "what's that? no, not that schooner below there--i mean that sort of whitish drift--it looks like cotton--on the horizon?" jess leaned forward and addressed jimsy. "you've got me guessing," rejoined that slangy young person. "ask peggy." "no, i don't want to bother her now. she's got her hands full, i fancy." the _golden butterfly_ was swinging steadily onward above a sparkling sea. the slight haze perceptible from the land was not noticeable to the air voyagers. below them a four-masted schooner was tacking in the light wind. closer in shore lay several grim looking battleships and cruisers. in their leaden colored "war paint" they looked menacing and bulldoggish. far off, a mere speck, could be seen a dim and indistinct object pointing upward from the cape like a finger. they guessed it was the light for which they were aiming. peggy's last glance at the compass had confirmed this guess. jimsy looked about him. about a quarter of a mile off, and slightly ahead was the _cobweb_. the silvery aeroplane was rushing through the atmosphere at a great rate. but profiting by mortlake's experience, fanning was evidently not speeding the 'plane to its fullest capacity. on the other side was a large red biplane flying steadily and keeping about level with the _golden butterfly_. far behind lagged a monoplane. the other contestants had dropped out of the race. they were so manifestly out of it that their drivers did not care to continue. a glance at the speedometer showed peggy's two passengers that they were reeling off fifty-five miles an hour. the _cobweb_ was doing slightly better. "we should round the light in a few minutes now," said jimsy scrutinizing his watch anxiously. "will they report us?" asked jess. "yes. there is a wireless rigged up there. the minute we round it on our return trip word will be flashed back to the starting point." silently they sat counting the minutes roll by. all at once jimsy noticed that the air had become strangely damp and moist. he looked up. he could not refrain a cry of astonishment as he did so. the _golden butterfly_ was enveloped in a damp, steamy sort of smother. the _cobweb_ had been blotted out and so had the other aeroplanes. "fog," he exclaimed. "what a bit of bad luck." "it's just as bad for the others," peggy reminded him. "have you got your course?" asked jess anxiously. "yes. almost due east. but in this dense mist it will be hard to come close enough to the lighthouse to be reported without the danger of dashing into it." "are you going to try for it?" "of course," was the brief reply. peggy slowed down the engine. the _golden butterfly_ now seemed to be gliding silently through lonely billows of white sea fog. it was an uncanny feeling. the occupants of the machine felt a chilling sense of complete isolation. thanks to their barograph, however, they could judge their height above the sea. "good thing we've got it," commented jimsy; "otherwise we might have a thrilling encounter with the topmasts of some schooner." "i only wish we had some instrument to show us where the other aeroplanes are," said peggy; "it's hard to hear anything in this fog." "maybe it will clear off," suggested jess hopefully. "not unless we get some wind," opined jimsy; "queer how quick that wind dropped and this smother came up." nobody even hinted at the deadly danger they were in. but each occupant of the _golden butterfly_ knew it full well. except for the compass, they had no way of guiding their flight, and to turn about would have been to court disaster. there was only one thing for it, to keep on. this peggy did, grimly compressing her lips. "hark!" exclaimed jimsy suddenly. far below them they could hear a mournful sound. it was wafted up to them in fits and starts. "ding-dong! ding-dong!" "a church bell," cried jess, "we must be over land, peggy!" the other shook her head. "that's a bell buoy, i guess," she said. "i wish he'd tell us how to get out of here," joked jimsy, rather wearily. "who?" asked jess. "that bell boy." never had one of jimsy's jokes fallen so flat. he mentally resolved not to attempt another one. presently he looked at his watch. "almost eleven," he said, "we must have passed the light by this time." "i don't know," said peggy helplessly; "if only the chart marked that bell buoy--but it doesn't." she again scrutinized the chart pinned before her on the sloping slab designed for such purposes. but no bell buoy was marked on it as being located anywhere near where they estimated they must be drifting. drifting, however, is not quite the correct word. an aeroplane cannot drift. its life depends upon its motion. the instant it stops or decreases speed beyond a certain point, in that same instant it must fall to the earth. this fact is what made the position of the young sky cruisers particularly dangerous. although the gauge showed that they had plenty of gasoline, the supply--even with the use of the auxiliary tanks--would not hold out indefinitely. if the fog did not lift, or they did not land, sooner or later they must face disaster. worse still, they were--or believed they were, navigating above the sea. had the _golden butterfly_ been fitted with pontoons like some of the glen curtiss machines, this would not have been so alarming. but a descent into the ocean would inevitably mean a speedy death by drowning. suddenly voices struck through the smother all about them. they seemed to come from below. "it's thick as pea soup, captain!" "aye, aye; i'll be glad when we're out of it i kin tell yer. this bay's a bad place ter be in er fog." "a ship," cried jimsy. "quick, peggy," he almost yelled the next instant. "set your rising levers." the girl swiftly manipulated the machinery that sent the _golden butterfly_ on an upward course. but it was only just in time that this maneuver was carried out. all of them had a glimpse for an instant of the gilded ball on the main-mast head of the vessel beneath them. for an instant peggy's watchful eye had been deflected from the height gauge, and she had allowed the _golden butterfly_ to drop almost on the top of some coasting vessel's mast. the danger over, they could not help laughing at the whimsical adventure. "just to think how utterly unconscious those fellows were of the fact that three human beings were hovering right above them and listening to every word of their conversation," chuckled jimsy; "isn't it queer?" a little while later a steamer's whistle boomed through the fog beneath them, but as the altitude register showed five hundred feet, they did not bother about it. "at all events we know we're still above the water and not in danger of colliding with any church steeples," said jess, and she found consolation in the thought. "have you any idea at all as to the direction of the light, peggy?" inquired jimsy at length. "i--i really don't know," confessed peggy, with a gulp; "everything's mixed up. it's so thick i can't tell anything and i'm deathly afraid of running into the lighthouse by mistake." "then for goodness sake give it a wide berth," cried jimsy; "if we keep on cruising about for a while we'll be bound to land somewhere. anyhow we've got lots of gasoline, that's one comfort." it was, indeed. in the steady hum of their powerful motor the young aviators found consolation in that lonely ride through the billowing fog-banks. at all events, there was no sign of a falter or skip there. "if only we could get some wind," sighed jess. "might as well wish for the moon," said jimsy; "the air is as still as it used to be at noon out on the desert." "what a contrast between the big alkali and this!" cried jess, half hysterically. the strain of the white drifting fog was beginning to tell upon her. jimsy looked at her sharply. "look here, sis," he began and was going on when a sharp cry from peggy arrested him. at the same instant the _golden butterfly_ swerved sharply, swinging over on her beam-ends almost. right in front of them, for one dreadful instant, there loomed the outlines of another aeroplane. the next instant it was gone. but the picture of the deadly peril, its outlines exaggerated by the mist, was photographed in the minds of every one of them. "we must land somewhere, soon," said peggy, in rather a faint voice; "i don't think i could stand many shocks like that. another inch, and----." she did not complete the sentence. her two listeners did not require her to. it did not take a vivid imagination to have pictured the result of that "other inch." chapter xxiii. out of the clouds. ten minutes or so later, a puff of wind blew the folds of fog apart for a brief instant. beneath them peggy could see a sandy beach and some scrubby-looking brush. like a flash she took advantage of the momentarily revealed opportunity. the _golden butterfly_, under her guidance, sank swiftly, grounding a few seconds later into a bed of soft sand. it was like lighting on a pillow of down, so gently had the glide to earth been made. shutting off the engine, peggy took hold of jimsy's outstretched arm and, followed by jess, she jumped lightly out upon the sand. the roar of the surf, as the big swells rolled upon the beach was in their ears. a wholesome, stinging tang of salt in their nostrils. "i wonder where on earth we've landed," said jimsy, looking about him; "perhaps this is some enchanted land and we are to face new perils--dragons or something." "well, gallant knight," laughed jess, in the highest spirits to be back on the firm ground again--even if it was only shifting sand--"we trust to you." "and by my troth," exclaimed the mercurial jimsy, "ye shall not be disappointed in me fair damsels. hullo! an adventure already. hark!" through the smother a dull sound was borne to their ears. a sound that came in muffled but rhythmic thumps. at intervals it paused, but then was resumed again. "somebody chopping wood!" exclaimed peggy, recognizing the sound. "that's just what it is, if i ever wielded an axe in my life," agreed jimsy; "now logic tells us that an axe can't work itself. therefore somebody must be using it. where there is human life there is--or ought to be--food. how about it girls, are you hungry?" "hungry! i could eat anything," declared jess. "i'm almost as bad," laughed peggy. "well," said jimsy, "as there is no sign of the fog lifting yet awhile, what's the matter with our starting out to find the wood-chopper and seeing if he has anything to eat?" "jimsy, you're a genius," cried jess. "that's what all my friends tell me," rejoined the modest youth. they set off over rough sand dunes, overgrown with coarse grass, in the direction of the sounds of the axe. the sand was loose and their feet sank ankle deep in it, but they plodded along pluckily. all at once, just as if a curtain had been drawn, the outlines of a rough shanty appeared in front of them. it was a tumble-down sort of a place, seemingly made of driftwood and old sacks and bits of canvas. from a rusty iron stove-pipe on top, a feeble column of blue smoke was ascending. the noise of chopping had ceased on their approach and as they stood hesitating a strange figure suddenly appeared round the corner of the wretched rookery of a place. the man, who stood facing them, a startled look in his light blue eyes, was apparently about middle age. he wore a full beard of a golden brown color and was barefooted and hatless. his clothes consisted of a tattered shirt and a pair of coarse canvas trousers. "well, shiver my toplights!" he cried as his eyes fell on the trio, "whar under ther sun did you come from? drop from ther clouds?" "that's just what we did," said the debonnaire jimsy, as the girls drew back rather affrighted at the weird looking figure and his queer, wild way of talking. "what's that? don't try to fool with me young feller. i ain't as crazy as i reckon i looks." there was a certain dignity about the man when he spoke, that, despite his ragged clothing and miserable habitation, was impressive. "no, it's really so," jimsy hastened to assure him, "we--we came in an aeroplane, you know." "well, now," said the man scratching his head, "i reckon that's the first of them contrivances to reach lost brig island." "lost brig island," echoed jess in an alarmed tone; "is this an island?" "if the geography books still define an island as a body of land surrounded by water, it is," rejoined the man, with a smile. "are we far from cape charles?" asked peggy, eagerly. "why, no. not more than six miles to the north. but what under ther sun air you young folks in your fine clothes a-doin' out here?" peggy hastily explained, and the man said that he had seen some reference to the coming contests in a stray paper the light-keepers had given him the last time he passed the lighthouse in a small boat he kept. "is the island inhabited?" inquired jimsy; "we'd like to get something to eat. if there's a hotel or----." the man of the island burst into a laugh. not a rough guffaw, but a laugh of genuine amusement. "i guess i'm the only hotel keeper on the island," he said, "and my guests is sea gulls and once in a while a turtle. but if you don't mind eating some fish and potatoes, you're welcome to what i have." "i'm sure that's awfully good of you," said peggy, warmly, "and we love fish." "well, come on in and sit down. this fog won't last forever. i was chopping wood to get dinner when i heard you coming over the sands. i don't often have visitors so you'll have to rough it." so saying, the strange, lone island dweller led them into his hut. it was rough inside but scrupulously clean. some attempts had been made to beautify it by hanging up on the walls shells and curiosities of the beach. here and there, too, were panels of rare woods, which the island-dweller explained had come from the cabins of wrecked ships. a big cat, his only companion, lay beside the fire and blinked at the visitors, as if they were an everyday occurrence. chairs, fashioned out of barrels and boxes, stood about, some of them cushioned after a fashion, with sacking stuffed with dried sea weed. "sit down," said their host hospitably, "ain't much to boast of in the way of furniture, but it's the best i can do. can't expect to find a waldorf hotel on lost brig island." "you have been in new york, then?" exclaimed peggy, struck by the reference. the man's face underwent a transformation. "once, many years ago," he said, "but i never like to talk about it." "why not?" blundered the tactless jimsy. "because a wrong--a very great wrong--was done to me there," said the man slowly. without another word he rose and left the hut. none of the visitors dared to speak to him, so black had his face grown at the recollections called up by peggy's unlucky remark. after an absence of some moments he came back. he carried a string of cleaned fish in one hand and a tin measure of potatoes in the other. in the interval that had elapsed he seemed to have recovered his equanimity. "well, here's dinner," he announced in a cheery voice, "it ain't much to boast of, but hunger's the best sauce." sitting on an upturned box he started to peel potatoes, and presently put them on the fire in a rough iron pot. when they were almost done, a fact which he ascertained by prodding them with a clean sliver of wood, he set the fish in a frying pan or "spider," and the appetizing aroma of the meal presently filled the lowly hut. on a table formed of big planks, once the hull of some wrecked schooner, laid on rough trestles, they ate, what peggy afterward declared, was one of the most enjoyable dinners of her life. their host had at one time of his life been a sailor it would seem. at any rate, he had a fund of anecdote of the sea and its perils that held them enthralled. every now and again, through the open door, peggy cast a glance outside. but the fog still hung thick. suddenly, in the midst of their meal, footsteps sounded and voices came to their ears. "hullo, more visitors!" exclaimed the man of the island starting to his feet, "this is a day of events with a vengeance. who can be coming now?" the footsteps had drawn close now and a voice could be heard saying: "what a rickety, tumble-down old place. i wonder what kind of savage lives here." "fanning harding!" gasped peggy, as another voice struck in. a voice she instantly knew as regina mortlake's. [illustration: the next minute the man of the island ushered in his two new guests.] "oh, what a dreadful place. why won't this miserable fog lift. i'll be dead before we get back to the hotel." the man of the island had hastened hospitably out to welcome the newcomers. peggy, jess and jimsy exchanged glances. the prospect of spending the afternoon marooned on an island with fanning harding and regina mortlake, was not alluring. but there was no escape. the next minute the man of the island ushered in his two new guests. "what, you here?" said fanning in an ungracious tone, while regina mortlake, more skilled at disguising her feelings, exclaimed: "oh, how perfectly wonderful that we should both have landed on the same island." "it wasn't from choice," grumbled fanning in a perfectly audible tone. jimsy flushed a dark, dangerous flush. "jess, tell me not to punch that chap," he muttered to his sister. "i certainly do tell you not to," whispered jess emphatically. the man of the island looked on wonderingly. "did you come in an aeroplane, too?" he asked fanning in the manner of a man prepared to hear any marvels. "yes. we had the race won, too. but this fog has delayed us. what can you give us to eat. i can pay for it," said fanning in a loud, rude tone. "i don't take pay," said the hut-dweller in a quiet tone that ought to have caused fanning to redden with shame, "but if you are hungry i can cook some more fish. there are plenty of potatoes left." "they'll be very nice, i'm sure," regina had the grace to say. but fanning mumbled something about "pauper's food." but nevertheless he ate as heartily as jimsy himself, when the food was put on the rough table. it was hard work trying to be pleasant to the two young people who had so unexpectedly come into their midst, and the conversation languished and went on by fits and starts. "hullo, the fog's lifting," cried fanning suddenly; "i'm off. come on regina." the girl rose, and as she did so the trio from the prescott machine noticed the island dweller's eyes fixed on her in a curious way. "pardon me," he said, "but is your name regina?" the girl looked at him in a half-startled way, while peggy, as she said afterward, felt as if she was watching a drama. "yes," she said; "why?" "because," said the island dweller slowly, "because i once knew someone called regina who was very dear to me." "come on," called fanning from outside, "we've got to win this race back." the girl lingered hesitatingly an instant and the next moment was gone. "the fog is lifting," said peggy, "we must be going, too. come along jess. come on, jimsy, we don't want to let the mortlake craft beat us at the eleventh hour." "what name was that you just mentioned?" asked the man of the island, quickly. he was bending forward eagerly, as if to catch the answer. "do you mean mortlake?" "yes, that's the name. what of him? do you know him?" the man's eyes gleamed brightly. he seemed to be much excited. peggy answered him calmly, although she felt as if some sort of a life tragedy was working out to swift conclusion. "of course, mr. eugene mortlake is the man who is manufacturing the mortlake aeroplane. he is our chief rival. that's the reason we must hurry off." "why, did they?" the man nodded his head in the direction in which fanning and regina had vanished, "did they come in a mortlake aeroplane?" "yes," said peggy, "didn't you know? that girl is mr. mortlake's daughter, regina mortlake." the man gave a terrible cry and reeled backward. jimsy stepped forward quickly and caught him. for an instant they thought their host was going to swoon. but he quickly recovered. "good heavens," he cried, "eugene mortlake is here. close at hand?" "he is in hampton--why?" "i must see him as soon as possible. no, i can explain nothing now. but i must see him." the man's manner showed that he was terribly in earnest. he seemed almost carried away by excitement. outside came suddenly a whirring sound. "fanning is starting his engine," exclaimed jimsy; "we must hurry." "will you do something for me--will you aid a miserable outcast to right a great wrong?" pleaded the ragged man who faced them. "what can we do for you?" asked jimsy. "take me back to hampton in your aeroplane. i must see mortlake at once. it is imperative i tell you. see, i am not poor, although i appear so." in two strides the man had crossed the room and lifting a board in the floor he drew forth bag after bag. the seams of some of them were rotten. under the sudden strain they broke and streams of gold coin trickled out upon the floor. "years ago when i was first an exile here," said the man, "a spanish ship came ashore one stormy night. not a soul of her crew was saved. i found this money in the wreck. i will give you half of it if you will take me to hampton with you. the other half i must keep till--till i learn from mortlake's lips the secret he holds." "put your money back," said jimsy quietly after a telegraphic exchange of looks with peggy, "we'll take you to hampton; but hurry!" fifteen minutes later a golden-hued aeroplane flashed past the cape charles light. the announcer posted there, instantly sent in a wireless flash to hampton. "number six has just passed. two minutes behind number five (the _silver cobweb_), four persons on board." mortlake was among the crowd that read the bulletin which was instantly posted upon the field outside hampton. "i wonder who the fourth can be?" he thought, little guessing that through the air fate was winging its way toward him. "anyway," he added to himself the next instant, "the _mortlake_ is leading. now if only----" but what was that roar, at first a sullen boom, gradually deepening into the excited skirling cheers of a vast throng. mortlake looked round, startled. out of the distance two tiny dots, momentarily growing larger, like homing birds, had come into view. hark! what was that the crowd were shouting? those with field glasses threw the cry out first, and then came a mighty roar, as it was caught up by hundreds of throats. "the nameless! the nameless wins!" mortlake paled, and caught at a post erected to hold up a telephone line. he gazed at the oncoming aeroplanes. there were three of them now, but one was far behind, laboring slowly. but the first was unquestionably the _golden butterfly_. he could catch the yellow glint of her wings. and that second craft--its silvery sheen betrayed it--was the mortlake _cobweb_, as roy had called it. "come on! come on!" shouted mortlake, uselessly as he knew, "what's the matter with you?" but alas, the _cobweb_ didn't "come on." some three or four minutes after the _golden butterfly_ had alighted and been swallowed up in a surging, yelling throng of enthusiasm-crazed aero fans, the _cobweb_ fluttered wearily to the ground, unnoticed almost amid the excitement over the _golden butterfly's_ feat. mortlake raged, old mr. harding almost wept, and fanning sulkily explained that it wasn't his fault, the cylinders having overheated again. but not all of this could wipe out those figures that had just been put up on the board, which proclaimed a victory for the prescott aeroplane by a margin of three and twenty-one hundredths minutes! chapter xxiv. friends and foes--conclusion. the winning of the "sky cruise," as the newspapers had dubbed it, was the talk of hampton that night. not a small part of the zest with which it was discussed was caused by the fact that a young girl had driven the machine through its daring dash. the wires from new york, baltimore, philadelphia, boston and richmond were kept hot with instructions from editors to their representatives demanding interviews with the girl aviators. but to the chagrin of the newspaper representatives, after seeing their machine housed, the party had vanished. this, on investigation, was not as mysterious as it had at first appeared. there was a small door in the back of the nameless's shed, and at this door there had been waiting, for some moments before the conclusion of the race, a big automobile. in it were seated a bronzed man, with broad shoulders, and an alert, wideawake expression, and a boy, whose foot was propped up on an extemporized contrivance affixed to the seat. while the crowd had hovered about the front of the shed, awaiting the reappearance of the girl aviator, whose feat had caused such a furore, this boy had limped from the machine, assisted by his stalwart companion, and had entered the shed by the rear door. it would have astonished the crowd, and delighted the reporters in search of a story, if they could have seen peggy rush at the youth, and with a wild cry of: "roy! you darling!" throw her arms about his neck. mr. bell, for he was the stalwart personage, stood aside with a look of warm satisfaction, as peggy's turn over, jess and jimsy came forward. what a joyous reunion that was, i will leave you to imagine. then came mr. bell's story of his telegram to sandy beach to the judge, who was a friend of his. the message had announced that he had obtained complete confessions from both joey eccles and the unsavory slim. roy's release from bail and suspicion at once followed. eccles had owned up to his part in the mischief that had been wrought against the young prescotts. frankly, and without reserve, he had sworn to a statement before a local attorney, in which he admitted losing the bill with the mark upon it, on the night he had aided in decoying roy to the old house. his assistant had been a cast off workman of the mortlake plant, of whose whereabouts joey said he was now ignorant. then had come slim's turn. sullenly, but with the alternative of prison staring him in the face, he had admitted to impersonating the foreign spy. the part of roy on that eventful night had been played by: "guess whom?" said mr. bell, looking round. they all shook their heads. "i'll tell you about that part of it later," said mr. bell. "there are still one or two things to be cleared up in that connection. but," he continued, "palmer confessed that it was mortlake who robbed the farm-house safe, the object being, of course, not so much the money, as a chance to put roy out of the race contest. it has been a record of vile plotting all the way through," said the westerner warmly, "but the toils are closing in about mortlake & co. of course, my first step was to take the fellows before an attorney--luckily i knew one in hampton, and he, as it happened, was a friend of the sandy beach judge. we had to move quickly, but, thanks to the telegraph wire and fast trains, i got roy released from bail and suspicion, and here in time to greet you." they could only look their gratitude. just as the strain was becoming almost too taut, mr. bell, who had noticed it, broke the tension. "let's sneak out of the back door," he said, "and all go to some quiet place to dine. hullo, who's this?" he exclaimed, as the tattered figure of the man of the island appeared. "i am what is left of budd pierce, jim bell," said the man, in his queer, tired tones. "budd pierce!" exclaimed the mining man, falling back a step. "no--but, yes, now i look again--it is. but, man, what has happened to you? what are you doing here?" "it's a long story," said the ragged man, while the younger members of the party looked on in astonishment, "but i can tell you that gene mortlake has reached the end of his tether. i've heard all you said about him, and my interest in him you know already." "i know that you were swindled out of your fortune by some man years ago, and then disappeared," said mr. bell. "but i had forgotten the name of the rascal." "it was eugene mortlake," said the man of the island slowly. "after i knew i was ruined, i fled down here, where i was raised, and became a recluse on that island. it was cowardly of me, i know, but from now on i am going to lead a different life." "you have found yourself!" cried james bell, gleefully clasping the other's thin, worn hand. "i have found something dearer to me," was the quiet reply; "but come, let us be going. i have much that is strange to tell you." with wondering looks, the young aviators--roy leaning on peggy's devoted arm--followed james bell and the man from lost brig island out of the aeroplane shed. * * * * * in his suite of rooms at the hotel hampton, the best hotel in the place, eugene mortlake sat opposite old mr. harding. his brow was furrowed, and little wrinkles that had not been there earlier in the day, appeared at the corners of his eyes. old mr. harding seemed to be trying to cheer him up. in another corner of the room, sullen and depressed, fanning harding was standing puffing a cigarette and filling the atmosphere with its reeking fumes. "all is not lost yet, mortlake, hey, hey, hey?" said the old man, laying a skinny, claw-like hand on the other's arm. "why, to-night we'll put into execution a plan that will permanently put these young prescotts out of it. fanning knows what i mean. hey?" he glanced up at his ill-favored son. "i know fast enough," said that young hopeful, "but it's a risky matter. why don't you get somebody else to do it?" "pshaw! it's only filing off a padlock and then smashing a few of the motor parts," said the old man, in as calm a tone as if he were proposing a constitutional walk, "that's soon done, hey?" a sharp knock at the door interrupted any reply fanning might have been about to make. "come in," snarled mortlake. "it's the mail, i suppose," he said, turning to old mr. harding, but, to his surprise and consternation, the opened door revealed roy prescott. close behind him came mr. bell and peggy, with jimsy and jess bringing up the rear. "to what am i indebted for the pleasure of this visit?" asked mortlake, glowering at the newcomers, as they filed in, and mr. bell closed the door behind them. "why didn't you send up your cards, and i'd have torn them up and thrown them out of the window." "just what i thought you'd do, so we came up ourselves," said mr. bell cheerily. "now, look here, mortlake--no, sit down. i've come up here to right a wrong. you've tried to do all in your power to injure these young people, whose only fault is that they have built a better aeroplane than you have. it's their turn now, and you've got to grin and bear it." mortlake's jaw dropped. his old bullying manner was gone now. old man harding cackled inanely, but said nothing. only his long, lean fingers drummed on the table. fanning turned a pasty yellow. he had some idea of what was to come. his eyes fell to the floor, as if seeking some loophole of escape there. "well," growled mortlake, "what have you got to say to me?" "not much," snapped the mining man, "but i wish to read you something." he drew from his pocket a paper. "this is the confession of joey eccles," he said quietly. "i've another by frederick palmer." mortlake leaped up and sprang toward the westerner, but mr. bell held up his hand. "don't try to destroy them," he said. "they are only copies. the originals are by this time in the hands of the authorities at sandy beach." mortlake sank back with staring eyes and white cheeks. "what do you want me to do?" he gasped. "listen to these confessions and then sign your name to them, signifying your belief that they are true documents." "and if not?" "well, if not," said mr. bell, measuring his words, "do you recollect that wild-cat gold mine scheme you were interested in more years ago than you'll care to remember?" mortlake seemed to shrivel. but he flared up in a last blaze of defiance. "you can't scare me by rattling old bones," he said, "what do you know about it?" for reply, mr. bell stepped to the door. "mr. budd," he called softly, and in response the man of lost brig island, but now dressed and barbered into civilization appeared. "pierce budd!" gasped mortlake. "yes, pierce budd, whom you ruined," said mr. bell. "but for my persuasions, he would have sought to wipe out his wrongs in personal violence. but you needn't fear him now," as mortlake looked round with hunted eyes; "that is, if you sign." "i'll sign," gasped out the trapped man. he reached for an inkstand. "give them to me." "i'll read them first," said the mining man, and then, in slow, measured tones, he read out the contents of the convicting documents. as he concluded, mortlake seemed about to collapse. but he took the papers with a trembling hand, and wrote: "all this is true.--eugene mortlake." "good," said mr. bell. "now your future fate is in the hands of these young people. pierce budd has forgiven you, though it has been a struggle to do so. but i have one surprise left for you all," said mr. bell, stepping to the door. "regina," he called softly. in reply, the dark-eyed girl, in a sheer dress of soft, clinging stuff, glided into the room. she slipped straight to the side of the outcast pierce budd, and stood there, holding his hand. peggy looking at her in amazement, saw that the hard, defiant look had vanished from the girl's face, and that its place had been taken by an expression of supreme happiness and peace. "tell them about it," said mr. bell. "no. she has not yet recovered from the shock of the discovery," said pierce budd softly. "let me do it. when mortlake ruined me, and i fled from my former surroundings," he said, "i left behind me a baby girl. mrs. mortlake, a good woman if ever there was one, took care of that child. all this i have only just learned. she grew up with the mortlake's, and when that man's wife died he did the only good thing i've ever heard of him doing--he took care of her and brought her up as his daughter. to-day in the hut you saw me looking at her closely. it was because i thought i recognized a bit of jewelry--a tiny gold locket she wore. it contained the picture of her mother, who died soon after her birth. when i heard her name was regina, and on the top of that heard you mention the name of mortlake, i knew that fate, in its strange whirligig, had brought my daughter back to me." "to-night, with mr. bell, i sought her, and she has consented to forgive me for my years of neglect. the rest of my life will be spent in atoning for the past. that is all." his voice broke, and regina--a different regina from the old defiant one, gazed up at him tenderly. "so," said mortlake, "i'm left alone at last, eh? regina, haven't you a word for me? won't you forgive me for deceiving you about your father all these years?" "of course i forgive, freely and wholly," said the girl, stepping toward him, "but it is hard to forget." very tenderly, mortlake raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. then he drew himself erect. "what do you want to do with me?" he said defiantly. "i've confessed everything. why don't you call the police?" "because we want you to have a chance to be a better man," said mr. bell. "the past is over and done with. the future lies before you. you can make it what you will--bad or good, we shall not interfere with you." mortlake looked at them unsteadily. then his voice broke and he stepped quickly toward budd. the recluse of lost brig island extended his lean palm and met the other's outstretched hand half way. "i bear no grudge, mortlake," he said. "you will always be welcome at our home--regina's and mine." "oh, yes--always," cried the girl, with a catch in her voice. "thank you," said mortlake simply. "i don't--i don't dare trust myself to, speak now; to-morrow, perhaps----" he strode abruptly through the door and was gone. old mr. harding arose to his feet. "after this affecting tableau, is there anything you wish to say to me, hey?" he grated out. "nothing, sir," said mr. bell, turning his back upon the wizened old financier. "i have seen to it that the money taken from them has been returned to the galloways." "then, i'll bid you good-night, too, since you seem to have taken possession of these rooms. come, fanning." without a word, fanning shuffled across the room and reached his parent's side. not till they were both at the door did he speak. then, with a malevolent look backward, he paused. "roy prescott," he said, "you've always beaten me out--at school, at college, and twice since we've both lived in sandy beach. there'll be a third time, and you can bet that i'll not forget the injury you've done me. good night." he was gone, a sinister sneer still curling his lip. "well," said mr. bell, looking round him with a smile, "who says that all the adventure and excitement is in the west?" "not the girl aviators, certainly," laughed peggy, stealing a look at regina. the girl colored, and then, after a visible effort, she spoke. "i want to say something," she said, and stopped. her father bent on her an encouraging look. bravely she nerved herself, and went on. "it--it was i who dressed up like you that night, roy prescott, and--and i'm awfully sorry." "oh, that's all right," said roy uneasily, and then, "say, you can run like a deer!" in the laugh which followed they left the room and adjourned to a jolly supper, at which, who should walk in but aunt sally prescott and mr. and mrs. bancroft. they had been reached by telegraph early that morning, and had started on the next train to roy. how the hours flew! it was almost midnight before they knew it. in the midst of the feast, a waiter brought in a message to mr. bell. the mining man excused himself and left the room for a short time. when he returned he was smiling. "i've just signed on two new workmen for the mine," he said, "and i think they'll make good." "who are they?" asked roy. "well, one answers to the name of eccles. the other was, on one occasion, a foreign spy, but he bears the very american name of palmer. they leave for the west to-night." how the prescott aeroplane, under roy's management, captured the coveted highest number of marks for proficiency, and how a sensation was caused by the sudden withdrawal of the mortlake aeroplanes from the naval contest, all my readers are familiar with through the columns of the daily press. the paper, though, didn't print anything about an offer made by pierce budd to eugene mortlake to finance the _cobweb_ type of machine. needless to say, the offer was not accepted. mortlake, a changed man, is now building and selling aeroplanes in a far eastern principality, and they are good ones, too. no letters are more welcome than those that arrive occasionally from him and are delivered at pierce budd's home in new york. under lieutenant bradbury's kindly auspices, roy instructed a class of young seamen in the management of the prescott type of aeroplane, which has become the official aero scout of the united states navy. from time to time improvements are added. but, as the young officer says: "it was really the girl aviators' sky cruise, that won out for the prescotts." and here, though only for a brief period, we must bid _au revoir_ to our young friends. but we shall renew our acquaintance with them, and form some new friends, in the next volume of this series. this book will be replete with adventures encountered in the pursuance of the wonderful new science of aviation, as yet in its infancy. in the clouds and on the solid earth, the girl aviators are destined to have some more eventful times. what these are to be must be saved for the telling in--the girl aviator's motor butterfly. the end. the mastery of the air by william j. claxton preface this book makes no pretence of going minutely into the technical and scientific sides of human flight: rather does it deal mainly with the real achievements of pioneers who have helped to make aviation what it is to-day. my chief object has been to arouse among my readers an intelligent interest in the art of flight, and, profiting by friendly criticism of several of my former works, i imagine that this is best obtained by setting forth the romance of triumph in the realms of an element which has defied man for untold centuries, rather than to give a mass of scientific principles which appeal to no one but the expert. so rapid is the present development of aviation that it is difficult to keep abreast with the times. what is new to-day becomes old to-morrow. the great war has given a tremendous impetus to the strife between the warring nations for the mastery of the air, and one can but give a rough and general impression of the achievements of naval and military airmen on the various fronts. finally, i have tried to bring home the fact that the fascinating progress of aviation should not be confined entirely to the airman and constructor of air-craft; in short, this progress is not a record of events in which the mass of the nation have little personal concern, but of a movement in which each one of us may take an active and intelligent part. i have to thank various aviation firms, airmen, and others who have kindly come to my assistance, either with the help of valuable information or by the loan of photographs. in particular, my thanks are due to the royal flying corps and royal naval air service for permission to reproduce illustrations from their two publications on the work and training of their respective corps; to the aeronautical society of great britain; to messrs. c. g. spencer & sons, highbury; the sopwith aviation company, ltd.; messrs. a. v. roe & co., ltd.; the gnome engine company; the green engine company; mr. a. g. gross (geographia, ltd.); and m. bleriot; for an exposition of the internal-combustion engine i have drawn on mr. horne's the age of machinery. part i. balloons and air-ships i. man's duel with nature ii. the french paper-maker who invented the balloon iii. the first man to ascend in a balloon iv. the first balloon ascent in england v. the father of british aeronauts vi. the parachute vii. some british inventors of air-ships viii. the first attempts to steer a balloon ix. the strange career of count zeppelin x. a zeppelin air-ship and its construction xi. the semi-rigid air-ship xii. a non-rigid balloon xiii. the zeppelin and gotha raids part ii. aeroplanes and airmen xiv. early attempts in aviation xv. a pioneer in aviation xvi. the "human birds" xvii. the aeroplane and the bird xviii. a great british inventor of aeroplanes xix. the wright brothers and their secret experiments xx. the internal-combustion engine xxi. the internal-combustion engine (con't.) xxii. the aeroplane engine xxiii. a famous british inventor of aviation engines xxiv. the wright biplane (camber of planes) xxv. the wright biplane (cont.) xxvi. how the wrights launched their biplane xxvii. the first man to fly in europe xxviii. m. blariot and the monoplane xxix. henri farman and the voisin biplane xxx. a famous british inventor xxxi. the romance of a cowboy aeronaut xxxii. three historic flights xxxiii. three historic flights (cont.) xxxiv. the hydroplane and air-boat xxxv. a famous british inventor of the water-plane xxxvi. sea-planes for warfare xxxvii. the first man to fly in britain xxxviii.the r.f.c. and r.n.a.s. xxxix. aeroplanes in the great war xl. the atmosphere and the barometer xli. how an airman knows what height he reaches xlii. how an airman finds his way xliii. the first airman to fly upside down xliv. the first englishman to fly upside down xlv. accidents and their cause xlvi. accidents and their cause (cont.) xlvii. accidents and their cause (cont.) xlviii. some technical terms used by aviators xlix. the future in the air the mastery of the air part i. balloons and air-ships chapter i. man's duel with nature of all man's great achievements none is, perhaps, more full of human interest than are those concerned with flight. we regard ourselves as remarkable beings, and our wonderful discoveries in science and invention induce us to believe we are far and away the cleverest of all the living creatures in the great scheme of creation. and yet in the matter of flight the birds beat us; what has taken us years of education, and vast efforts of intelligence, foresight, and daring to accomplish, is known by the tiny fledglings almost as soon as they come into the world. it is easy to see why the story of aviation is of such romantic interest. man has been exercising his ingenuity, and deliberately pursuing a certain train of thought, in an attempt to harness the forces of nature and compel them to act in what seems to be the exact converse of nature's own arrangements. one of the mysteries of nature is known as the force of gravity. it is not our purpose in this book to go deeply into a study of gravitation; we may content ourselves with the statement, first proved by sir isaac newton, that there is an invisible force which the earth exerts on all bodies, by which it attracts or draws them towards itself. this property does not belong to the earth alone, but to all matter--all matter attracts all other matter. in discussing the problems of aviation we are concerned mainly with the mutual attraction of the earth and the bodies on or near its surface; this is usually called terrestrial gravity. it has been found that every body attracts very other body with a force directly proportionate to its mass. thus we see that, if every particle in a mass exerts its attractive influence, the more particles a body contains the greater will be the attraction. if a mass of iron be dropped to the ground from the roof of a building at the same time as a cork of similar size, the iron and the cork would, but for the retarding effect of the air, fall to the ground together, but the iron would strike the ground with much greater force than the cork. briefly stated, a body which contains twice as much matter as another is attracted or drawn towards the centre of the earth with twice the force of that other; if the mass be five times as great, then it will be attracted with five times the force, and so on. it is thus evident that the earth must exert an overwhelming attractive force on all bodies on or near its surface. now, when man rises from the ground in an aeroplane he is counter-acting this force by other forces. a short time ago the writer saw a picture which illustrated in a very striking manner man's struggle with nature. nature was represented as a giant of immense stature and strength, standing on a globe with outstretched arms, and in his hands were shackles of great size. rising gracefully from the earth, immediately in front of the giant, was an airman seated in a modern flying-machine, and on his face was a happy-go-lucky look as though he were delighting in the duel between him and the giant. the artist had drawn the picture so skilfully that one could imagine the huge, knotted fingers grasping the shackles were itching to bring the airman within their clutch. the picture was entitled "man triumphant" no doubt many of those who saw that picture were reminded of the great sacrifices made by man in the past. in the wake of the aviator there are many memorial stones of mournful significance. it says much for the pluck and perseverance of aviators that they have been willing to run the great risks which ever accompany their efforts. four years of the great war have shown how splendidly airmen have risen to the great demands made upon them. in dispatch after dispatch from the front, tribute has been paid to the gallant and devoted work of the royal flying corps and the royal naval air service. in a long and bitter struggle british airmen have gradually asserted their supremacy in the air. in all parts of the globe, in egypt, in mesopotamia, in palestine, in africa, the airman has been an indispensable adjunct of the fighting forces. truly it may be said that mastery of the air is the indispensable factor of final victory. chapter ii. the french paper-maker who invented the balloon in the year two young frenchmen might have been seen one winter night sitting over their cottage fire, performing the curious experiment of filling paper bags with smoke, and letting them rise up towards the ceiling. these young men were brothers, named stephen and joseph montgolfier, and their experiments resulted in the invention of the balloon. the brothers, like all inventors, seem to have had enquiring minds. they were for ever asking the why and the wherefore of things. "why does smoke rise?" they asked. "is there not some strange power in the atmosphere which makes the smoke from chimneys and elsewhere rise in opposition to the force of gravity? if so, cannot we discover this power, and apply it to the service of mankind?" we may imagine that such questions were in the minds of those two french paper-makers, just as similar questions were in the mind of james watt when he was discovering the power of steam. but one of the most important attributes of an inventor is an infinite capacity for taking pains, together with great patience. and so we find the two brothers employing their leisure in what to us would, be a childish pastime, the making of paper balloons. the story tells us that their room was filled with smoke, which issued from the windows as though the house were on fire. a neighbour, thinking such was the case, rushed in, but, on being assured that nothing serious was wrong, stayed to watch the tiny balloons rise a little way from the thin tray which contained the fire that made the smoke with which the bags were filled. the experiments were not altogether successful, however, for the bags rarely rose more than a foot or so from the tray. the neighbour suggested that they should fasten the thin tray on to the bottom of the bag, for it was thought that the bags would not ascend higher because the smoke became cool; and if the smoke were imprisoned within the bag much better results would be obtained. this was done, and, to the great joy of the brothers and their visitor, the bag at once rose quickly to the ceiling. but though they could make the bags rise their great trouble was that they did not know the cause of this ascent. they thought, however, that they were on the eve of some great discovery, and, as events proved, they were not far wrong. for a time they imagined that the fire they had used generated some special gas, and if they could find out the nature of this gas, and the means of making it in large quantities, they would be able to add to their success. of course, in the light of modern knowledge, it seems strange that the brothers did not know that the reason the bags rose, was not because of any special gas being used, but owing to the expansion of air under the influence of heat, whereby hot air tends to rise. every schoolboy above the age of twelve knows that hot air rises upwards in the atmosphere, and that it continues to rise until its temperature has become the same as that of the surrounding air. the next experiment was to try their bags in the open air. choosing a calm, fine day, they made a fire similar to that used in their first experiments, and succeeded in making the bag rise nearly feet. later on, a much larger craft was built, which was equally successful. and now we must leave the experiments of the montgolfiers for a moment, and turn to the discovery of hydrogen gas by henry cavendish, a well-known london chemist. in cavendish proved conclusively that hydrogen gas was not more than one-seventh the weight of ordinary air. it at once occurred to dr. black, of glasgow, that if a thin bag could be filled with this light gas it would rise in the air; but for various reasons his experiments did not yield results of a practical nature for several years. some time afterwards, about a year before the montgolfiers commenced their experiments which we have already described, tiberius cavallo, an italian chemist, succeeded in making, with hydrogen gas, soap-bubbles which rose in the air. previous to this he had experimented with bladders and paper bags; but the bladders he found too heavy, and the paper too porous. it must not be thought that the montgolfiers experimented solely with hot air in the inflation of their balloons. at one time they used steam, and, later on, the newly-discovered hydrogen gas; but with both these agents they were unsuccessful. it can easily be seen why steam was of no use, when we consider that paper was employed; hydrogen, too, owed its lack of success to the same cause for the porosity of the paper allowed the gas to escape quickly. it is said that the name "balloon" was given to these paper craft because they resembled in shape a large spherical vessel used in chemistry, which was known by that name. to the brothers montgolfier belongs the honour of having given the name to this type of aircraft, which, in the two succeeding centuries, became so popular. after numerous experiments the public were invited to witness the inflation of a particularly huge balloon, over feet in diameter. this was accomplished over a fire made of wool and straw. the ascent was successful, and the balloon, after rising to a height of some feet, fell to earth about two miles away. it may be imagined that this experiment aroused enormous interest in paris, whence the news rapidly spread over all france and to britain. a parisian scientific society invited stephen montgolfier to paris in order that the citizens of the metropolis should have their imaginations excited by seeing the hero of these remarkable experiments. montgolfier was not a rich man, and to enable him to continue his experiments the society granted him a considerable sum of money. he was then enabled to construct a very fine balloon, elaborately decorated and painted, which ascended at versailles in the presence of the court. to add to the value of this experiment three animals were sent up in a basket attached to the balloon. these were a sheep, a cock, and a duck. all sorts of guesses were made as to what would be the fate of the "poor creatures". some people imagined that there was little or no air in those higher regions and that the animals would choke; others said they would be frozen to death. but when the balloon descended the cock was seen to be strutting about in his usual dignified way, the sheep was chewing the cud, and the duck was quacking for water and worms. at this point we will leave the work of the brothers montgolfier. they had succeeded in firing the imagination of nearly every frenchman, from king louis down to his humblest subject. strange, was it not, though scores of millions of people had seen smoke rise, and clouds float, for untold centuries, yet no one, until the close of the eighteenth century, thought of making a balloon? the learned franciscan friar, roger bacon, who lived in the thirteenth century, seems to have thought of the possibility of producing a contrivance that would float in air. his idea was that the earth's atmosphere was a "true fluid", and that it had an upper surface as the ocean has. he quite believed that on this upper surface--subject, in his belief, to waves similar to those of the sea--an air-ship might float if it once succeeded in rising to the required height. but the difficulty was to reach the surface of this aerial sea. to do this he proposed to make a large hollow globe of metal, wrought as thin as the skill of man could make it, so that it might be as light as possible, and this vast globe was to be filled with "liquid fire". just what "liquid fire" was, one cannot attempt to explain, and it is doubtful if bacon himself had any clear idea. but he doubtless thought of some gaseous substance lighter than air, and so he would seem to have, at least, hit upon the principle underlying the construction of the modern balloon. roger bacon had ideas far in advance of his time, and his experiments made such an impression of wonder on the popular mind that they were believed to be wrought by black magic, and the worthy monk was classed among those who were supposed to be in league with satan. chapter iii. the first man to ascend in a balloon the safe descent of the three animals, which has already been related, showed the way for man to venture up in a balloon. in our time we marvel at the daring of modern airmen, who ascend to giddy heights, and, as it were, engage in mortal combat with the demons of the air. but, courageous though these deeds are, they are not more so than those of the pioneers of ballooning. in the eighteenth century nothing was known definitely of the conditions of the upper regions of the air, where, indeed, no human being had ever been; and though the frail montgolfier balloons had ascended and descended with no outward happenings, yet none could tell what might be the risk to life in committing oneself to an ascent. there was, too, very special danger in making an ascent in a hot-air balloon. underneath the huge envelope was suspended a brazier, so that the fabric of the balloon was in great danger of catching fire. it was at first suggested that two french criminals under sentence of death should be sent up, and, if they made a safe descent, then the way would be open for other aeronauts to venture aloft. but everyone interested in aeronautics in those days saw that the man who first traversed the unexplored regions of the air would be held in high honour, and it seemed hardly right that this honour should fall to criminals. at any rate this was the view of m. pilatre de rozier, a french gentleman, and he determined himself to make the pioneer ascent. de rozier had no false notion of the risks he was prepared to run, and he superintended with the greatest care the construction of his balloon. it was of enormous size, with a cage slung underneath the brazier for heating the air. befors making his free ascent de rozier made a trial ascent with the balloon held captive by a long rope. at length, in november, , accompanied by the marquis d'arlandes as a passenger, he determined to venture. the experiment aroused immense excitement all over france, and a large concourse of people were gathered together on the outskirts of paris to witness the risky feat. the balloon made a perfect ascent, and quickly reached a height of about half a mile above sea-level. a strong current of air in the upper regions caused the balloon to take an opposite direction from that intended, and the aeronauts drifted right over paris. it would have gone hard with them if they had been forced to descend in the city, but the craft was driven by the wind to some distance beyond the suburbs and they alighted quite safely about six miles from their starting-point, after having been up in the air for about half an hour. their voyage, however, had by no means been free from anxiety. we are told that the fabric of the balloon repeatedly caught fire, which it took the aeronauts all their time to extinguish. at times, too, they came down perilously near to the seine, or to the housetops of paris, but after the most exciting half-hour of their lives they found themselves once more on mother earth. here we must make a slight digression and speak of the invention of the hydrogen, or gas, balloon. in a previous chapter we read of the discovery of hydrogen gas by henry cavendish, and the subsequent experiments with this gas by dr. black, of glasgow. it was soon decided to try to inflate a balloon with this "inflammable air"--as the newly-discovered gas was called--and with this end in view a large public subscription was raised in france to meet the heavy expenses entailed in the venture. the work was entrusted to a french scientist, professor charles, and two brothers named robert. it was quickly seen that paper, such as was used by the montgolfiers, was of little use in the construction of a gas balloon, for the gas escaped. accordingly the fabric was made of silk and varnished with a solution of india-rubber and turpentine. the first hydrogen balloon was only about feet in diameter, for in those early days the method of preparing hydrogen was very laborious and costly, and the constructors thought it advisable not to spend too much money over the initial experiments, in case they should be a failure. in august, --an eventful year in the history of aeronautics--the first gas-inflated balloon was sent up, of course unaccompanied by a passenger. it shot up high in the air much more rapidly than montgolfier's hot-air balloon had done, and was soon beyond the clouds. after a voyage of nearly an hour's duration it descended in a field some miles away. we are told that some peasants at work near by fled in the greatest alarm at this strange monster which settled in their midst. an old print shows them cautiously approaching the balloon as it lay heaving on the ground, stabbing it with pitchforks, and beating it with flails and sticks. the story goes that one of the alarmed farmers poured a charge of shot into it with his gun, no doubt thinking that he had effectually silenced the panting demon contained therein. to prevent such unseemly occurrences in the future the french government found it necessary to warn the people by proclamation that balloons were perfectly harmless objects, and that the experiments would be repeated. we now have two aerial craft competing for popular favour: the montgolfier hot-air balloon and the "charlier" or gas-inflated balloon. about four months after the first trial trip of the latter the inventors decided to ascend in a specially-constructed hydrogen-inflated craft. this balloon, which was feet in diameter, contained nearly all the features of the modern balloon. thus there was a valve at the top by means of which the gas could be let out as desired; a cord net covered the whole fabric, and from the loop which it formed below the neck of the balloon a car was suspended; and in the car there was a quantity of ballast which could be cast overboard when necessary. it may be imagined that this new method of aerial navigation had thoroughly aroused the excitability of the french nation, so that thousands of people were met together just outside paris on the th december to see professor charles and his mechanic, robelt, ascend in their new craft. the ascent was successful in every way; the intrepid aeronauts, who carried a barometer, found that they had quickly reached an altitude of over a mile. after remaining aloft for nearly two hours they came down. professor charles decided to ascend again, this time by himself, and with a much lighter load the balloon rose about two miles above sea-level. the temperature at this height became very low, and m. charles was affected by violent pain in his right ear and jaw. during the voyage he witnessed the strange phenomenon of a double sunset; for, before the ascent, the sun had set behind the hills overshadowing the valleys, and when he rose above the hill-tops he saw the sun again, and presently saw it set again. there is no doubt that the balloon would have risen several thousand feet higher, but the professor thought it would burst, and he opened the valve, eventually making a safe descent about miles from his starting-place. england lagged behind her french neighbour's in balloon aeronautics--much as she has recently done in aviation--for a considerable time, and, it was not till august of the following year ( ) that the first balloon ascent was made in great britain, by mr. j. m. tytler. this took place at edinburgh in a fire balloon. previous to this an italian, named lunardi, had in november, , dispatched from the artillery ground, in london, a small balloon made of oil-silk, feet in diameter and weighing pounds. this small craft was sent aloft at one o'clock, and came down, about two and a half hours later, in sussex, about miles from its starting-place. in the largest balloon on record was sent up from lyons. this immense craft was more than feet in diameter, and stood about feet high. it was inflated with hot air over a straw fire, and seven passengers were carried, including joseph montgolfier and pilatre de rozier. but to return to de rozier, whom we left earlier in the chapter, after his memorable ascent near paris. this daring frenchman decided to cross the channel, and to prevent the gas cooling, and the balloon falling into the sea, he hit on the idea of suspending a small fire balloon under the neck of another balloon inflated with hydrogen gas. in the light of our modern knowledge of the highly-inflammable nature of hydrogen, we wonder how anyone could have attempted such an adventure; but there had been little experience of this newly-discovered gas in those days. we are not surprised to read that, when high in the air, there was an awful explosion and the brave aeronaut fell to the earth and was dashed to death. chapter iv. the first balloon ascent in england it has been said that the honour of making the first ascent in a balloon from british soil must be awarded to mr. tytler. this took place in scotland. in this chapter we will relate the almost romantic story of the first ascent made in england. this was carried out successfully by lunardi, the italian of whom we have previously spoken. this young foreigner, who was engaged as a private secretary in london, had his interest keenly aroused by the accounts of the experiments being carried out in balloons in france, and he decided to attempt similar experiments in this country. but great difficulties stood in his way. like many other inventors and would-be airmen, he suffered from lack of funds to build his craft, and though people whom he approached for financial aid were sympathetic, many of them were unwilling to subscribe to his venture. at length, however, by indomitable perseverance, he collected enough money to defray the cost of building his balloon, and it was arranged that he should ascend from the artillery ground, london, in september, . his craft was a "charlier"--that is, it was modelled after the hydrogen-inflated balloon built by professor charles--and it resembled in shape an enormous pear. a wide hoop encircled the neck of the envelope, and from this hoop the car was suspended by stout cordage. it is said that on the day announced for the ascent a crowd of nearly , had assembled, and that the prince of wales was an interested spectator. farmers and labourers and, indeed, all classes of people from the prince down to the humblest subject, were represented, and seldom had london's citizens been more deeply excited. many of them, however, were incredulous, especially when an insufficiency of gas caused a long delay before the balloon could be liberated. fate seemed to be thwarting the plucky italian at every step. even at the last minute, when all arrangements had been perfected as far as was humanly possible, and the crowd was agog with excitement, it appeared probable that he would have to postpone the ascent. it was originally intended that lunardi should be accompanied by a passenger; but as there was a shortage of gas the balloon's lifting power was considerably lessened, and he had to take the trip with a dog and cat for companions. a perfect ascent was made, and in a few moments the huge balloon was sailing gracefully in a northerly direction over innumerable housetops. this trip was memorable in another way. it was probably the only aerial cruise where a royal council was put off in order to witness the flight. it is recorded that george the third was in conference with the cabinet, and when news arrived in the council chamber that lunardi was aloft, the king remarked: "gentlemen, we may resume our deliberations at pleasure, but we may never see poor lunardi again!" the journey was uneventful; there was a moderate northerly breeze, and the aeronaut attained a considerable altitude, so that he and his animals were in danger of frost-bite. indeed, one of the animals suffered so severely from the effects of the cold that lunardi skilfully descended low enough to drop it safely to earth, and then, throwing out ballast, once more ascended. he eventually came to earth near a hertfordshire village about miles to the north of london. chapter v. the father of british aeronauts no account of the early history of english aeronautics could possibly be complete unless it included a description of the nassau balloon, which was inflated by coal-gas, from the suggestion of mr. charles green, who was one of britain's most famous aeronauts. because of his institution of the modern method of using coal-gas in a balloon, mr. green is generally spoken of as the father of british aeronautics. during the close of the eighteenth and the opening years of the nineteenth century there had been numerous ascents in charlier balloons, both in britain and on the continent. it had already been discovered that hydrogen gas was highly dangerous and also expensive, and mr. green proposed to try the experiment of inflating a balloon with ordinary coal-gas, which had now become fairly common in most large towns, and was much less costly than hydrogen. critics of the new scheme assured the promoters that coal-gas would be of little use for a balloon, averring that it had comparatively little lifting power, and aeronauts could never expect to rise to any great altitude in such a balloon. but green firmly believed that his theory was practical, and he put it to the test. the initial experiments quite convinced him that he was right. under his superintendence a fine balloon about feet high, built of silk, was made in south london, and the car was constructed to hold from fifteen to twenty passengers. when the craft was completed it was proposed to send it to paris for exhibition purposes, and the inventor, with two friends, messrs. holland and mason, decided to take it over the channel by air. it is said that provisions were taken in sufficient quantities to last a fortnight, and over a ton of ballast was shipped. the journey commenced in november, , late in the afternoon, as the aeronauts had planned to cross the sea by night. a fairly strong north-west wind quickly bore them to the coast, and in less than an hour they found themselves over the lights of calais. on and on they went, now and then entirely lost to earth through being enveloped in dense fog; hour after hour went by, until at length dawn revealed a densely-wooded tract of country with which they were entirely unfamiliar. they decided to land, and they were greatly surprised to find that they had reached weilburg, in nassau, germany. the whole journey of miles had been made in eighteen hours. probably no british aeronaut has made more daring and exciting ascents than mr. green--unless it be a member of the famous spencer family, of whom we speak in another chapter. it is said that mr. green went aloft over a thousand times, and in later years he was accompanied by various passengers who were making ascents for scientific purposes. his skill was so great that though he had numerous hairbreadth escapes he seldom suffered much bodily harm. he lived to the ripe old age of eighty-five. chapter vi. the parachute no doubt many of those who read this book have seen an aeronaut descend from a balloon by the aid of a parachute. for many years this performance has been one of the most attractive items on the programmes of fetes, galas, and various other outdoor exhibitions. the word "parachute" has been almost bodily taken from the french language. it is derived from the french parer to parry, and chute a fall. in appearance a parachute is very similar to an enormous umbrella. m. blanchard, one of the pioneers of ballooning, has the honour of first using a parachute, although not in person. the first "aeronaut" to descend by this apparatus was a dog. the astonished animal was placed in a basket attached to a parachute, taken up in a balloon, and after reaching a considerable altitude was released. happily for the dog the parachute acted quite admirably, and the animal had a graceful and gentle descent. shortly afterwards a well-known french aeronaut, m. garnerin, had an equally satisfactory descent, and soon the parachute was used by most of the prominent aeronauts of the day. mr. cocking, a well-known balloonist, held somewhat different views from those of other inventors as to the best form of construction of parachutes. his idea was that a parachute should be very large and rather heavy in order to be able to support a great weight. his first descent from a great height was also his last. in , accompanied by messrs. spencer and green, he went up with his parachute, attached to the nassau balloon. at a height of about a mile the parachute was liberated, but it failed to act properly; the inventor was cast headlong to earth, and dashed to death. from time to time it has been thought that the parachute might be used for life-saving on the modern dirigible air-ship, and even on the aeroplane, and experiments have been carried out with that end in view. a most thrilling descent from an air-ship by means of a parachute was that made by major maitland, commander of the british airship squadron, which forms part of the royal flying corps. the descent took place from the delta air-ship, which ascended from farnborough common. in the car with major maitland were the pilot, captain waterlow, and a passenger. the parachute was suspended from the rigging of the delta, and when a height of about feet had been reached it was dropped over to the side of the car. with the dirigible travelling at about miles an hour the major climbed over the car and seated himself in the parachute. then it became detached from the delta and shot downwards for about feet at a terrific rate. for a moment or two it was thought that the opening apparatus had failed to work; but gradually the "umbrella" opened, and the gallant major had a gentle descent for the rest of the distance. this experiment was really made in order to prove the stability of an air-ship after a comparatively great weight was suddenly removed from it. lord edward grosvenor, who is attached to the royal flying corps, was one of the eyewitnesses of the descent. in speaking of it he said: "we all think highly of major maitland's performance, which has shown how the difficulty of lightening an air-ship after a long flight can be surmounted. during a voyage of several hours a dirigible naturally loses gas, and without some means of relieving her of weight she might have to descend in a hostile country. major maitland has proved the practicability of members of an air-ship's crew dropping to the ground if the necessity arises." a descent in a parachute has also been made from an aeroplane by m. pegoud, the daring french airman, of whom we speak later. a certain frenchman, m. bonnet, had constructed a parachute which was intended to be used by the pilot of an aeroplane if on any occasion he got into difficulties. it had been tried in many ways, but, unfortunately for the inventor, he could get no pilot to trust himself to it. tempting offers were made to pilots of world-wide fame, but either the risk was thought to be too great, or it was believed that no practical good would come of the experiment. at last the inventor approached m. pegoud, who undertook to make the descent. this was accomplished from a great height with perfect safety. it seems highly probable that in the near future the parachute will form part of the equipment of every aeroplane and air-ship. chapter vii. some british inventors of air-ships the first englishman to invent an air-ship was mr. stanley spencer, head of the well-known firm of spencer brothers, whose works are at highbury, north london. this firm has long held an honourable place in aeronautics, both in the construction of air-craft and in aerial navigation. spencer brothers claim to be the premier balloon manufacturers in the world, and, at the time of writing, eighteen balloons and two dirigibles lie in the works ready for use. in these works there may also be seen the frame of the famous santos-dumont air-ship, referred to later in this book. in general appearance the first spencer air-ship was very similar to the airship flown by santos-dumont; that is, there was the cigar-shaped balloon, the small engine, and the screw propellor for driving the craft forward. but there was one very important distinction between the two air-ships. by a most ingenious contrivance the envelope was made so that, in the event of a large and serious escape of gas, the balloon would assume the form of a giant umbrella, and fall to earth after the manner of a parachute. all inventors profit, or should profit, by the experience of others, whether such experience be gained by success or failure. it was found that santos-dumont's air-ship lost a considerable amount of gas when driven through the air, and on several occasions the whole craft was in great danger of collapse. to keep the envelope inflated as tightly as possible mr. spencer, by a clever contrivance, made it possible to force air into the balloon to replace the escaped gas. the first spencer air-ship was built for experimental purposes. it was able to lift only one person of light weight, and was thus a great contrast to the modern dirigible which carries a crew of thirty or forty people. mr. spencer made several exhibition flights in his little craft at the crystal palace, and so successful were they that he determined to construct a much larger craft. the second spencer air-ship, first launched in , was nearly feet long. there was one very important distinction between this and other air-ships built at that time: the propeller was placed in front of the craft, instead of at the rear, as is the case in most air-ships. thus the craft was pulled through the air much after the manner of an aeroplane. in the autumn of great enthusiasm was aroused in london by the announcement that mr. spencer proposed to fly from the crystal palace round the dome of st. paul's cathedral and back to his starting-place. this was a much longer journey than that made by santos-dumont when he won the deutsch prize. tens of thousands of london's citizens turned out to witness the novel sight of a giant air-ship hovering over the heart of their city, and it was at once seen what enormous possibilities there were in the employment of such craft in time of war. the writer remembers well moving among the dense crowds and hearing everywhere such remarks as these: "what would happen if a few bombs were thrown over the side of the air-ship?" "will there be air-fleets in future, manned by the soldiers or sailors?" indeed the uppermost thought in people's minds was not so much the possibility of mr. spencer being able to complete his journey successfully--nearly everyone recognized that air-ship construction had now advanced so far that it was only a matter of time for an ideal craft to be built--but that the coming of the air-ship was an affair of grave international importance. the great craft, glistening in the sunlight, sailed majestically from the south, but when it reached the cathedral it refused to turn round and face the wind. try how he might, mr. spencer could not make any progress. it was a thrilling sight to witness this battle with the elements, right over the heart of the largest city in the world. at times the air-ship seemed to be standing quite still, head to wind. unfortunately, half a gale had sprung up, and the -horse-power engine was quite incapable of conquering so stiff a breeze, and making its way home again. after several gallant attempts to circle round the dome, mr. spencer gave up in despair, and let the monster air-ship drift with the wind over the northern suburbs of the city until a favourable landing-place near barnet was reached, where he descended. the spencer air-ships are of the non-rigid type. spencer air-ship a comprises a gas vessel for hydrogen feet long and feet in diameter, with a capacity of , cubic feet. the framework is of polished ash wood, made in sections so that it can easily be taken to pieces and transported, and the length over all is feet. two propellers feet inches diameter, made of satin-wood, are employed to drive the craft, which is equipped with a green engine of from to horse-power. spencer's air-ship b is a much larger vessel, being feet long and feet in diameter, with a capacity for hydrogen of , cubic feet. the framework is of steel and aluminium, made in sections, with cars for ten persons, including aeronauts, mechanics, and passengers. it is driven with two petrol aerial engines of from to horse-power. about the time that mr. spencer was experimenting with his large air-ship, dr. barton, of beckenham, was forming plans for an even larger craft. this he laid down in the spacious grounds of the alexandra park, to the north of london. an enormous shed was erected on the northern slopes of the park, but visitors to the alexandra palace, intent on a peep at the monster air-ship under construction, were sorely disappointed, as the utmost secrecy in the building of the craft was maintained. the huge balloon was feet in diameter and feet long, with a gas capacity of , cubic feet. to maintain the external form of the envelope a smaller balloon, or compensator, was placed inside the larger one. the framework was of bamboo, and the car was attached by about eighty wire-cables. the wooden deck was about feet in length. two -horse-power engines drove four propellers, two of which were at either end. the inventor employed a most ingenious contrivance to preserve the horizontal balance of the air-ship. fitted, one at each end of the carriage, were two -gallon tanks. these tanks were connected with a long pipe, in the centre of which was a hand-pump. when the bow of the air-ship dipped, the man at the pump could transfer some of the water from the fore-tank to the after-tank, and the ship would right itself. the water could similarly be transferred from the after-tank to the fore-tank when the stern of the craft pointed downwards. there were many reports, in the early months of , that the air-ship was going to be brought out from the shed for its trial flights, and the writer, in common with many other residents in the vicinity of the park, made dozens of journeys to the shed in the expectation of seeing the mighty dirigible sail away. but for months we were doomed to disappointment; something always seemed to go wrong at the last minute, and the flight had to be postponed. at last, in , the first ascent took place. it was unsuccessful. the huge balloon, made of tussore silk, cruised about for some time, then drifted away with the breeze, and came to grief in landing. a clever inventor of air-ships, a young welshman, mr. e. t. willows, designed in , an air-ship in which he flew from cardiff to london in the dark--a distance of miles. in the same craft he crossed the english channel a little later. mr. willows has a large shed in the london aerodrome at hendon, and he is at present working there on a new air-ship. for some time he has been the only successful private builder of air-ships in great britain. the navy possess a small willows air-ship. messrs. vickers, the famous builders of battleships, are giving attention to the construction of air-ships for the navy, in their works at walney island, barrow-in-furness. this firm has erected an enormous shed, feet long, feet broad, and feet high. in this shed two of the largest air-ships can be built side by side. close at hand is an extensive factory for the production of hydrogen gas. at each end of the roof are towers from which the difficult task of safely removing an air-ship from the shed can be directed. at the time of writing, the redoubtable dora (defence of the realm act) forbids any but the vaguest references to what is going forward in the way of additions to our air forces. but it may be stated that air-ships are included in the great constructive programme now being carried out. it is not long since the citizens of glasgow were treated to the spectacle of a full-sized british "zep" circling round the city prior to her journey south, and so to regions unspecified. and use, too, is being found by the naval arm for that curious hybrid the "blimp", which may be described as a cross between an aeroplane and an air-ship. chapter viii. the first attempts to steer a balloon for nearly a century after the invention of the montgolfier and charlier balloons there was not much progress made in the science of aeronautics. true, inventors such as charles green suggested and carried out new methods of inflating balloons, and scientific observations of great importance were made by balloonists both in britain and on the continent. but in the all-important work of steering the huge craft, progress was for many years practically at a standstill. all that the balloonist could do in controlling his balloon was to make it ascend or descend at will; he could not guide its direction of flight. no doubt pioneers of aeronautics early turned their attention to the problem of providing some apparatus, or some method, of steering their craft. one inventor suggested the hoisting of a huge sail at the side of the envelope; but when this was done the balloon simply turned round with the sail to the front. it had no effect on the direction of flight of the balloon. "would not a rudder be of use?" someone asked. this plan was also tried, but was equally unsuccessful. perhaps some of us may wonder how it is that a rudder is not as serviceable on a balloon as it is on the stern of a boat. have you ever found yourself in a boat on a calm day, drifting idly down stream, and going just as fast as the stream goes? work the rudder how you may, you will not alter the boat's course. but supposing your boat moves faster than the stream, or by some means or other is made to travel slower than the current, then your rudder will act, and you may take what direction you will. it was soon seen that if some method could be adopted whereby the balloon moved through the air faster or slower than the wind, then the aeronaut would be able to steer it. nowadays a balloon's pace can be accelerated by means of a powerful motor-engine, but the invention of the petrol-engine is very recent. indeed, the cause of the long delay in the construction of a steerable balloon was that a suitable engine could not be found. a steam-engine, with a boiler of sufficient power to propel a balloon, is so heavy that it would require a balloon of impossible size to lift it. one of the first serious attempts to steer a balloon by means of engine power was that made by m. giffard in . giffard's balloon was about feet long and feet in diameter, and resembled in shape an elongated cigar. a -horse-power steam-engine, weighing nearly pounds, was provided to work a propeller, but the enormous weight was so great in proportion to the lifting power of the balloon that for a time the aeronaut could not leave the ground. after several experiments the inventor succeeded in ascending, when he obtained a speed against the wind of about miles an hour. a balloon of great historical interest was that invented by dupuy du lonie, in the year . instead of using steam he employed a number of men to propel the craft, and with this air-ship he hoped to communicate with the besieged city of paris. his greatest speed against a moderate breeze was only about miles an hour, and the endurance of the men did not allow of even this speed being kept up for long at a time. dupuy foreshadowed the construction of the modern dirigible air-ship by inventing a system of suspension links which connected the car to the envelope; and he also used an internal ballonet similar to those described in chapter x. in the year tissandier invented a steerable balloon which was fitted with an electric motor of / horse-power. this motor drove a propeller, and a speed of about miles an hour was attained. it is interesting to contrast the power obtained from this engine with that of recent zeppelin air-ships, each of which is fitted with three or four engines, capable of producing over horse-power. the first instance on record of an air-ship being steered back to its starting-point was that of la france. this air-craft was the invention of two french army captains, reynard and krebs. by special and much-improved electric motors a speed of about miles an hour was attained. thus, step by step, progress was made; but notwithstanding the promising results it was quite evident that the engines were far too heavy in proportion to the power they supplied. at length, however, the internal-combustion engine, such as is used in motor-cars, arrived, and it became at last possible to solve the great problem of constructing a really-serviceable, steerable balloon. chapter ix. the strange career of count zeppelin in berlin, on march , , there passed away a man whose name will be remembered as long as the english language is spoken. for count zeppelin belongs to that little band of men who giving birth to a work of genius have also given their names to the christening of it; and so the patronymic will pass down the ages. in the most sinister sense of the expression count zeppelin may be said to have left his mark deep down upon the british race. in course of time many old scores are forgiven and forgotten, but the zeppelin raids on england will survive, if only as a curious failure. their failure was both material and moral. anti-aircraft guns and our intrepid airmen brought one after another of these destructive monsters blazing to the ground, and their work of "frightfulness" was taken up by the aeroplane; while more lamentable still was the failure of the zeppelin as an instrument of terror to the civil population. in the long list of german miscalculations must be included that which pictured the victims of bombardment from the air crying out in terror for peace at any price. before the war count zeppelin was regarded by the british public as rather a picturesque personality. he appeared in the romantic guise of the inventor struggling against difficulties and disasters which would soon have overwhelmed a man of less resolute character. even old age was included in his handicap, for he was verging on seventy when still arming against a sea of troubles. the ebb and flow of his fortunes were followed with intense interest in this country, and it is not too much to say that the many disasters which overtook his air-ships in their experimental stages were regarded as world-wide calamities. when, finally, the count stood on the brink of ruin and the kaiser stepped forward as his saviour, something like a cheer went up from the british public at this theatrical episode. little did the audience realize what was to be the outcome of the association between these callous and masterful minds. and now for a brief sketch of count zeppelin's life-story. he was born in , in a monastery on an island in lake constance. his love of adventure took him to america, and when he was about twenty-five years of age he took part in the american civil war. here he made his first aerial ascent in a balloon belonging to the federal army, and in this way made that acquaintance with aeronautics which became the ruling passion of his life. after the war was over he returned to germany, only to find another war awaiting him--the austro-prussian campaign. later on he took part in the franco-prussian war, and in both campaigns he emerged unscathed. but his heart was not in the profession of soldiering. he had the restless mind of the inventor, and when he retired, a general, after twenty years' military service, he was free to give his whole attention to his dreams of aerial navigation. his greatest ambition was to make his country pre-eminent in aerial greatness. friends to whom he revealed his inmost thoughts laughed at him behind his back, and considered that he was "a little bit wrong in his head". certainly his ideas of a huge aerial fleet appeared most extravagant, for it must be remembered that the motor-engine had not then arrived, and there appeared no reasonable prospect of its invention. perseverance, however, was the dominant feature of count zeppelin's character; he refused to be beaten. his difficulties were formidable. in the first place, he had to master the whole science of aeronautics, which implies some knowledge of mechanics, meteorology, and electricity. this in itself was no small task for a man of over fifty years of age, for it was not until count zeppelin had retired from the army that he began to study these subjects at all deeply. the next step was to construct a large shed for the housing of his air-ship, and also for the purpose of carrying out numerous costly experiments. the count selected friedrichshafen, on the shores of lake constance, as his head-quarters. he decided to conduct his experiments over the calm waters of the lake, in order to lessen the effects of a fall. the original shed was constructed on pontoons, and it could be turned round as desired, so that the air-ship could be brought out in the lee of any wind from whatsoever quarter it came. it is said that the count's private fortune of about l , was soon expended in the cost of these works and the necessary experiments. to continue his work he had to appeal for funds to all his friends, and also to all patriotic germans, from the kaiser downwards. at length, in , there came a turning-point in his fortunes. the german government, which had watched the count's progress with great interest, offered to buy his invention outright if he succeeded in remaining aloft in one of his dirigibles for twenty-four hours. the count did not quite succeed in his task, but he aroused the great interest of the whole german nation, and a zeppelin fund was established, under the patronage of the kaiser, in every town and city in the fatherland. in about a month the fund amounted to over l , . with this sum the veteran inventor was able to extend his works, and produce air-ship after air-ship with remarkable rapidity. when, war broke out it is probable that germany possessed at least thirteen air-ships which had fulfilled very difficult tests. one had flown miles in a single journey. thus the east coast of england, representing a return journey of less than miles was well within their range of action. chapter x. a zeppelin air-ship and its construction after the zeppelin fund had brought in a sum of money which probably exceeded all expectations, a company was formed for the construction of dirigibles in the zeppelin works on lake constance, and in an enormous air-ship was produced. in shape a zeppelin dirigible resembled a gigantic cigar, pointed at both ends. if placed with one end on the ground in trafalgar square, london, its other end would be nearly three times the height of the nelson column, which, as you may know, is feet. from the diagram here given, which shows a sectional view of a typical zeppelin air-ship, we may obtain a clear idea of the main features of the craft. from time to time, during the last dozen years or so, the inventor has added certain details, but the main features as shown in the illustration are common to all air-craft of this type. zeppelin l was feet in length, with a diameter of feet. some idea of the size may be obtained through the knowledge that she was longer than a modern dreadnought. the framework was made of specially light metal, aluminium alloy, and wood. this framework, which was stayed with steel wire, maintained the shape and rigidity of her gas-bags; hence vessels of this type are known as rigid air-ships. externally the hull was covered with a waterproof fabric. though, from outside, a rigid air-ship looks to be all in one piece, within it is divided into numerous compartments. in zeppelin l there were eighteen separate compartments, each of which contained a balloon filled with hydrogen gas. the object of providing the vessel with these small balloons, or ballonets, all separate from one another, was to prevent the gas collecting all at one end of the ship as the vessel travelled through the air. outside the ballonets there was a ring-shaped, double bottom, containing non-inflammable gas, and the whole was enclosed in rubber-coated fabric. the crew and motors were carried in cars slung fore and aft. the ship was propelled by three engines, each of horse-power. one engine was placed in the forward car, and the two others in the after car. to steer her to right or left, she had six vertical planes somewhat resembling box-kites, while eight horizontal planes enabled her to ascend or descend. in zeppelin l , which was a later type of craft, there were four motors capable of developing horse-power. these drove four propellers, which gave the craft a speed of about miles an hour. the cars were connected by a gangway built within the framework. on the top of the gas-chambers was a platform of aluminium alloy, carrying a -pounder gun, and used also as an observation station. it is thought that l was also provided with four machine-guns in her cars. later types of zeppelins were fitted with a "wireless" installation of sufficient range to transmit and receive messages up to miles. l could rise to the height of a mile in favourable weather, and carry about tons over and above her own weight. even when on ground the unwieldy craft cause many anxious moments to the officers and mechanics who handle them. two of the line have broken loose from their anchorage in a storm and have been totally destroyed. great difficulty is also experienced in getting them in and out of their sheds. here, indeed, is a contrast with the ease and rapidity with which an aeroplane is removed from its hangar. it was maintained by the inventor that, as the vessel is rigid, and therefore no pressure is required in the gas-chamber to maintain its shape, it will not be readily vulnerable to projectiles. but the count did not foresee that the very "frightfulness" of his engine of war would engender counter-destructives. in a later chapter an account will be given of the manner in which zeppelin attacks upon these islands were gradually beaten off by the combined efforts of anti-aircraft guns and aeroplanes. to the latter, and the intrepid pilots and fighters, is due the chief credit for the final overthrow of the zeppelin as a weapon of offence. both the british and french airmen in various brilliant sallies succeeded in gradually breaking up and destroying this armada of the air; and the zeppelin was forced back to the one line of work in which it has proved a success, viz., scouting for the german fleet in the few timid sallies it has made from home ports. chapter xi. the semi-rigid air-ship modern air-ships are of three general types: rigid, semi-rigid, and non-rigid. these differ from one another, as the names suggest, in the important feature, the rigidity, non-rigidity, and partial rigidity of the gas envelope. hitherto we have discussed the rigid type of vessel with which the name of count zeppelin is so closely associated. this vessel is, as we have seen, not dependent for its form on the gas-bag, but is maintained in permanent shape by means of an aluminium framework. a serious disadvantage to this type of craft is that it lacks the portability necessary for military purposes. it is true that the vessel can be taken to pieces, but not quickly. the non-rigid type, on the other hand, can be quickly deflated, and the parts of the car and engine can be readily transported to the nearest balloon station when occasion requires. in the semi-rigid type of air-ship the vessel is dependent for its form partly on its framework and partly on the form of the gas envelope. the under side of the balloon consists of a flat rigid framework, to which the planes are attached, and from which the car, the engine, and propeller are suspended. as the rigid type of dirigible is chiefly advocated in germany, so the semi-rigid craft is most popular in france. the famous lebaudy air-ships are good types of semi-rigid vessels. these were designed for the firm of lebaudy freres by the well-known french engineer m. henri julliot. in november, , m. julliot and m. surcouf completed an air-ship for m. lebaudy which attained a speed of nearly miles an hour. the craft, which was named lebaudy i, made many successful voyages, and in m. lebaudy offered a second vessel, lebaudy ii, to the french minister of war, who accepted it for the french nation, and afterwards decided to order another dirigible, la patrie, of the same type. disaster, however, followed these air-ships. lebaudy i was torn from its anchorage during a heavy gale in , and was completely wrecked. la patrie, after travelling in from paris to verdun, in seven hours, was, a few days later, caught in a gale, and the pilot was forced to descend. the wind, however, was so strong that soldiers were unable to hold down the unwieldy craft, and it was torn from their hands. it sailed away in a north-westerly direction over the channel into england, and ultimately disappeared into the north sea, where it was subsequently discovered some days after the accident. notwithstanding these disasters the french military authorities ordered another craft of the same type, which was afterwards named the republique. this vessel made a magnificent flight of six and a half hours in , and it was considered to have quite exceptional features, which eclipsed the previous efforts of messrs. julliot and lebaudy. unfortunately, however, this vessel was wrecked in a very terrible manner. while out cruising with a crew of four officers one of the propeller blades was suddenly fractured, and, flying off with immense force, it entered the balloon, which it ripped to pieces. the majestic craft crumpled up and crashed to the ground, killing its crew in its fall. in the illustration facing p. , of a lebaudy air-ship, we have a good type of the semi-rigid craft. in shape it somewhat resembles an enormous porpoise, with a sharply-pointed nose. the whole vessel is not as symmetrical as a zeppelin dirigible, but its inventors claim that the sharp prow facilitates the steady displacement of the air during flight. the stern is rounded so as to provide sufficient support for the rear planes. two propellers are employed, and are fixed outside the car, one on each side, and almost in the centre of the vessel. this is a some what unusual arrangement. some inventors, such as mr. spencer, place the propellers at the prow, so that the air-ship is drawn along; others prefer the propeller at the stern, whereby the craft is pushed along; but m. julliot chose the central position, because there the disturbance of the air is smallest. the body of the balloon is not quite round, for the lower part is flattened and rests on a rigid frame from which the car is suspended. the balloon is divided into three compartments, so that the heavier air does not move to one part of the balloon when it is tilted. in the picture there is shown the petrol storage-tank, which is suspended immediately under the rear horizontal plane, where it is out of danger of ignition from the hot engine placed in the car. chapter xii. a non-rigid balloon hitherto we have described the rigid and semi-rigid types of air-ships. we have seen that the former maintains its shape without assistance from the gas which inflates its envelope and supplies the lifting power, while the latter, as its name implies, is dependent for its form partly on the flat rigid framework to which the car is attached, and partly on the gas balloon. we have now to turn our attention to that type of craft known as a non-rigid balloon. this vessel relies for its form entirely upon the pressure of the gas, which keeps the envelope distended with sufficient tautness to enable it to be driven through the air at a considerable speed. it will at once be seen that the safety of a vessel of this type depends on the maintenance of the gas pressure, and that it is liable to be quickly put out of action if the envelope becomes torn. such an occurrence is quite possible in war. a well-directed shell which pierced the balloon would undoubtedly be disastrous to air-ship and crew. for this reason the non-rigid balloon does not appear to have much future value as a fighting ship. but, as great speed can be obtained from it, it seems especially suited for short overland voyages, either for sporting or commercial purposes. one of its greatest advantages is that it can be easily deflated, and can be packed away into a very small compass. a good type of the non-rigid air-ship is that built by major von parseval, which is named after its inventor. the parseval has been described as "a marvel of modern aeronautical construction", and also as "one of the most perfect expressions of modern aeronautics, not only on account of its design, but owing to its striking efficiency." the balloon has the elongated form, rounded or pointed at one end, or both ends, which is common to most air-ships. the envelope is composed of a rubber-texture fabric, and externally it is painted yellow, so that the chemical properties of the sun's rays may not injure the rubber. there are two smaller interior balloons, or compensators, into which can be pumped air by means of a mechanically-driven fan or ventilator, to make up for contraction of the gas when descending or meeting a cooler atmosphere. the compensators occupy about one-quarter of the whole volume. to secure the necessary inclination of the balloon while in flight, air can be transferred from one of the compensators, say at the fore end of the ship, into the ballonet in the aft part. suppose it is desired to incline the bow of the craft upward, then the ventilating fan would deflate the fore ballonet and inflate the aft one, so that the latter, becoming heavier, would lower the stern and raise the bow of the vessel. along each side of the envelope are seen strips to which the car suspension-cords are attached. to prevent these cords being jerked asunder, by the rolling or pitching of the vessel, horizontal fins, each square feet in area, are provided at each side of the rear end of the balloon. in the past several serious accidents have been caused by the violent pitching of the balloon when caught in a gale, and so severe have been the stresses on the suspension cords that great damage has been done to the envelope, and the aeronauts have been fortunate if they have been able to make a safe descent. the propeller and engine are carried by the car, which is slung well below the balloon, and by an ingenious contrivance the car always remains in a horizontal position, however much the balloon may be inclined. it is no uncommon occurrence for the balloon to make a considerable angle with the car beneath. the propeller is quite a work of art. it has a diameter of about feet, and consists of a frame of hollow steel tubes covered with fabric. it is so arranged that when out of action its blades fall lengthwise upon the frame supporting it, but when it is set to work the blades at once open out. the engine weighs pounds, and has six cylinders, which develop horse-power at revolutions a minute. the vessel may be steered either to the right or the left by means of a large vertical helm, some square feet in area, which is hinged at the rear end to a fixed vertical plane of square feet area. an upward or downward inclination is, as we have seen, effected by the ballonets, but in cases of emergency these compensators cannot be deflated or inflated sufficiently rapidly, and a large movable weight is employed for altering the balance of the vessel. in this country the authorities have hitherto favoured the non-rigid air-ship for military and naval use. the astra-torres belongs to this type of vessel, which can be rapidly deflated and transported, and so, too, the air-ship built by mr. willows. chapter xiii. the zeppelin and gotha raids in the house of commons recently mr. bonar law announced that since the commencement of the war , lives had been lost as the result of enemy action by submarines and air-craft. a large percentage of these figures represents women, children, and defenceless citizens. one had become almost hardened to the german method of making war on the civil population--that system of striving to act upon civilian "nerves" by calculated brutality which is summed up in the word "frightfulness". but the publication of these figures awoke some of the old horror of german warfare. the sum total of lives lost brought home to the people at home the fact that bombardment from air and sea, while it had failed to shake their moral, had taken a large toll of human life. at first the zeppelin raids were not taken very seriously in this country. people rushed out of their houses to see the unwonted spectacle of an air-ship dealing death and destruction from the clouds. but soon the novelty began to wear off, and as the raids became more frequent and the casualty lists grew larger, people began to murmur against the policy of taking these attacks "lying down". it was felt that "darkness and composure" formed but a feeble and ignoble weapon of defence. the people spoke with no uncertain voice, and it began to dawn upon the authorities that the system of regarding london and the south-east coast as part of "the front" was no excuse for not taking protective measures. it was the raid into the midlands on the night of st january, , that finally shelved the old policy of do nothing. further justification, if any were needed, for active measures was supplied by a still more audacious raid upon the east coast of scotland, upon which occasion zeppelins soared over england--at their will. then the authorities woke up, and an extensive scheme of anti-aircraft guns and squadrons of aeroplanes was devised. about march of the year the germans began to break the monotony of the zeppelin raids by using sea-planes as variants. so there was plenty of work for our new defensive air force. indeed, people began to ask themselves why we should not hit back by making raids into germany. the subject was well aired in the public press, and distinguished advocates came forward for and against the policy of reprisals. at a considerably later date reprisals carried the day, and, as we write, air raids by the british into germany are of frequent occurrence. in march, , the fruits of the new policy began to appear, and people found them very refreshing. a fleet of zeppelins found, on approaching the mouth of the thames, a very warm reception. powerful searchlights, and shells from new anti-aircraft guns, played all round them. at length a shot got home. one of the zeppelins, "winged" by a shell, began a wobbly retreat which ended in the waters of the estuary. the navy finished the business. the wrecked air-ship was quickly surrounded by a little fleet of destroyers and patrol-boats, and the crew were brought ashore, prisoners. that same night yet another zeppelin was hit and damaged in another part of the country. raids followed in such quick succession as to be almost of nightly occurrence during the favouring moonless nights. later, the conditions were reversed, and the attacks by aeroplane were all made in bright moonlight. but ever the defence became more strenuous. then aeroplanes began to play the role of "hornets", as mr. winston churchill, speaking rather too previously, designated them. lieutenant brandon, r.f.c., succeeded in dropping several aerial bombs on a zeppelin during the raid on march , but it was not until six months later that an airman succeeded in bringing down a zeppelin on british soil. the credit of repeating lieutenant warneford's great feat belongs to lieutenant w. r. robinson, and the fight was witnessed by a large gathering. it occurred in the very formidable air raid on the night of september . breathlessly the spectators watched the zeppelin harried by searchlight and shell-fire. suddenly it disappeared behind a veil of smoke which it had thrown out to baffle its pursuers. then it appeared again, and a loud shout went up from the watching thousands. it was silhouetted against the night clouds in a faint line of fire. the hue deepened, the glow spread all round, and the doomed airship began its crash to earth in a smother of flame. the witnesses to this amazing spectacle naturally supposed that a shell had struck the zeppelin. its tiny assailant that had dealt the death-blow had been quite invisible during the fight. only on the following morning did the public learn of lieutenant robinson's feat. it appeared that he had been in the air a couple of hours, engaged in other conflicts with his monster foes. besides the v.c. the plucky airman won considerable money prizes from citizens for destroying the first zeppelin on british soil. the zeppelin raids continued at varying intervals for the remainder of the year. as the power of the defence increased the air-ships were forced to greater altitudes, with a corresponding decrease in the accuracy with which they could aim bombs on specified objects. but, however futile the raids, and however widely they missed their mark, there was no falling off in the outrageous claims made in the german communiques. bombs dropped in fields, waste lands, and even the sea, masqueraded in the reports as missiles which had sunk ships in harbour, destroyed docks, and started fires in important military areas. so persistent were these exaggerations that it became evident that the zeppelin raids were intended quite as much for moral effect at home as for material damage abroad. the heartening effect of the raids upon the german populace is evidenced by the mental attitude of men made prisoners on any of the fronts. only with the utmost difficulty were their captors able to persuade them that london and other large towns were not in ruins; that shipbuilding was not at a standstill; and that the british people was not ready at any moment to purchase indemnity from the raids by concluding a german peace. when one method of terrorism fails try another, was evidently the german motto. after the zeppelin the gotha, and after that the submarine. the next year-- --brought in a very welcome change in the situation. one zeppelin after another met with its just deserts, the british navy in particular scoring heavily against them. nor must the skill and enterprise of our french allies be forgotten. in march, , they shot down a zeppelin at compiegne, and seven months later dealt the blow which finally rid these islands of the zeppelin menace. for nearly a year london, owing to its greatly increased defences, had been free from attack. then, on the night of october , germany made a colossal effort to make good their boast of laying london in ruins. a fleet of eleven zeppelins came over, five of which found the city. one, drifting low and silently, was responsible for most of the casualties, which totalled killed and injured. the fleet got away from these shores without mishap. then, at long last, came retribution. flying very high, they seem to have encountered an aerial storm which drove them helplessly over french territory. our allies were swift to seize this golden opportunity. their airmen and anti-aircraft guns shot down no less than four of the zeppelins in broad daylight, one of which was captured whole. of the remainder, one at least drifted over the mediterranean, and was not heard of again. that was the last of the zeppelin, so far as the civilian population was concerned. but, for nearly a year, the work of killing citizens had been undertaken by the big bomb-dropping gotha aeroplanes. the work of the gotha belongs rightly to the second part of this book, which deals with aeroplanes and airmen; but it would be convenient to dispose here of the part played by the gotha in the air raids upon this country. the reconnaissance took place on tuesday, november , , when in a slight haze a german aeroplane suddenly appeared over london, dropped six bombs, and flew off. the gotha was intercepted off dunkirk by the french, and brought down. pilot and observer-two naval lieutenants-were found to have a large-scale map of london in their possession. the new era of raids had commenced. very soon it became evident that the new squadron of gothas were much more destructive than the former fleets of unwieldy zeppelins. these great gothas were each capable of dropping nearly a ton of bombs. and their heavy armament and swift flight rendered them far less vulnerable than the air-ship. from march to october , , no less than twenty-two raids took place, chiefly on london and towns on the south-east coast. the casualties amounted to killed and wounded. the two worst raids occurred june on east london, and september on the sheerness and chatham area. a squadron of fifteen aeroplanes carried out the raid, on june , and although they were only over the city for a period of fifteen minutes the casualty list was exceedingly heavy-- killed and wounded. many children were among the killed and injured as the result of a bomb which fell upon a council school. the raid was carried out in daylight, and the bombs began to drop before any warning could be given. later, an effective and comprehensive system of warnings was devised, and when people had acquired the habit of taking shelter, instead of rushing out into the street to see the aerial combats, the casualties began to diminish. it is worthy of record that the possible danger to schools had been anticipated, and for some weeks previously the children had taken part in "air raid drill". when the raid came, the children behaved in the most exemplary fashion. they went through the manoeuvres as though it was merely a rehearsal, and their bearing as well as the coolness of the teachers obviated all danger from panic. in this raid the enemy first made use of aerial torpedoes. large loss of life, due to a building being struck, was also the feature of the moonlight raid on september . on this occasion enemy airmen found a mark on the royal naval barracks at sheerness. the barracks were fitted with hammocks for sleeping, and no less than bluejackets lost their lives, the number of wounded amounting to . although the raid lasted nearly an hour and powerful searchlights were brought into play, neither guns nor our airmen succeeded in causing any loss to the raiders. bombs were dropped at a number of other places, including margate and southend, but without result. no less than six raids took place on london before the end of the month, but the greatest number of killed in any one of the raids was eleven, while on september the raiders were driven off before they could claim any victims. the establishment of a close barrage of aerial guns did much to discourage the raiders, and gradually london, from being the most vulnerable spot in the british isles, began to enjoy comparative immunity from attack. paris, too, during the great war has had to suffer bombardment from the air, but not nearly to the same extent as london. the comparative immunity of paris from air raids is due partly to the prompt measures which were taken to defend the capital. the french did not wait, as did the british, until the populace was goaded to the last point of exasperation, but quickly instituted the barrage system, in which we afterwards followed their lead. moreover, the french were much more prompt in adopting retaliatory tactics. they hit back without having to wade through long moral and philosophical disquisitions upon the ethics of "reprisals". on the other hand, it must be remembered that paris, from the aerial standpoint, is a much more difficult objective than london. the enemy airman has to cross the french lines, which, like his own, stretch for miles in the rear. practically he is in hostile country all the time, and he has to get back across the same dangerous air zones. it is a far easier task to dodge a few sea-planes over the wide seas en route to london. and on reaching the coast the airman has to evade or fight scattered local defences, instead of penetrating the close barriers which confront him all the way to paris. since the first zeppelin attack on paris on march , , when two of the air-ships reached the suburbs, killing persons and injuring , there have been many raids and attempted raids, but mostly by single machines. the first air raid in force upon the french capital took place on january , , when a squadron of gothas crossed the lines north of compiegne. two hospitals were hit, and the casualties from the raid amounted to killed and wounded. after the italian set-back in the winter of , the venetian plain lay open to aerial bombardment by the germans, who had given substantial military aid to their austrian allies. this was an opportunity not to be lost by germany, and venice and other towns of the plain were subject to systematic bombardment. at the time of writing, germany is beginning to suffer some of the annoyances she is so ready to inflict upon others. the recently constituted air ministry have just published figures relating to the air raids into germany from december , , to february , inclusive. during these eleven weeks no fewer than thirty-five raids have taken place upon a variety of towns, railways, works, and barracks. in the list figure such important towns as mannheim (pop. , ) and metz (pop. , ). the average weight of bombs dropped at each raid works out about lbs. this welcome official report is but one of many signs which point the way to the growing supremacy of the allies in the air. part ii. aeroplanes and airmen chapter xiv. early attempts in aviation the desire to fly is no new growth in humanity. for countless years men have longed to emulate the birds--"to soar upward and glide, free as a bird, over smiling fields, leafy woods, and mirror-like lakes," as a great pioneer of aviation said. great scholars and thinkers of old, such as horace, homer, pindar, tasso, and all the glorious line, dreamt of flight, but it has been left for the present century to see those dreams fulfilled. early writers of the fourth century saw the possibility of aerial navigation, but those who tried to put their theories in practice were beset by so many difficulties that they rarely succeeded in leaving the ground. most of the early pioneers of aviation believed that if a man wanted to fly he must provide himself with a pair of wings similar to those of a large bird. the story goes that a certain abbot told king james iv of scotland that he would fly from stirling castle to paris. he made for himself powerful wings of eagles' feathers, which he fixed to his body and launched himself into the air. as might be expected, he fell and broke his legs. but although the muscles of man are of insufficient strength to bear him in the air, it has been found possible, by using a motor engine, to give to man the power of flight which his natural weakness denied him. scientists estimate that to raise a man of about stone in the air and enable him to fly there would be required an immense pair of wings over feet in span. in comparison with the weight of a man a bird's weight is remarkably small--the largest bird does not weigh much more than pounds--but its wing muscles are infinitely stronger in proportion than the shoulder and arm muscles of a man. as we shall see in a succeeding chapter, the "wing" theory was persevered with for many years some two or three centuries ago, and later on it was of much use in providing data for the gradual development of the modern aeroplane. chapter xv. a pioneer in aviation hitherto we have traced the gradual development of the balloon right from the early days of aeronautics, when the brothers montgolfier constructed their hot-air balloon, down to the most modern dirigible. it is now our purpose, in this and subsequent chapters, to follow the course of the pioneers of aviation. it must not be supposed that the invention of the steerable balloon was greatly in advance of that of the heavier-than-air machine. indeed, developments in both the dirigible airship and the aeroplane have taken place side by side. in some cases men like santos dumont have given earnest attention to both forms of air-craft, and produced practical results with both. thus, after the famous brazilian aeronaut had won the deutsch prize for a flight in an air-ship round the eiffel tower, he immediately set to work to construct an aeroplane which he subsequently piloted at bagatelle and was awarded the first "deutsch prize" for aviation. it is generally agreed that the undoubted inventor of the aeroplane, practically in the form in which it now appears, was an english engineer, sir george cayley. just over a hundred years ago this clever englishman worked out complete plans for an aeroplane, which in many vital respects embodied the principal parts of the monoplane as it exists to-day. there were wings which were inclined so that they formed a lifting plane; moreover, the wings were curved, or "cambered", similar to the wing of a bird, and, as we shall see in a later chapter, this curve is one of the salient features of the plane of a modern heavier-than-air machine. sir george also advocated the screw propeller worked by some form of "explosion" motor, which at that time had not arrived. indeed, if there had been a motor available it is quite possible that england would have led the way in aviation. but, unfortunately, owing to the absence of a powerful motor engine, sir george's ideas could not be practically carried out till nearly a century later, and then englishmen were forestalled by the wright brothers, of america, as well as by several french inventors. the distinguished french writer, alphonse berget, in his book, the conquest of the air, pays a striking tribute to our english inventor, and this, coming from a gentleman who is writing from a french point of view, makes the praise of great value. in alluding to sir george, m. berget says: "the inventor, the incontestable forerunner of aviation, was an englishman, sir george cayley, and it was in that he described his project in detail in nicholson's journal.... his idea embodied 'everything'--the wings forming an oblique sail, the empennage, the spindle forms to diminish resistance, the screw-propeller, the 'explosion' motor,... he even described a means of securing automatic stability. is not all that marvellous, and does it not constitute a complete specification for everything in aviation? "thus it is necessary to inscribe the name of sir george cayley in letters of gold, in the first page of the aeroplane's history. besides, the learned englishman did not confine himself to 'drawing-paper': he built the first apparatus (without a motor) which gave him results highly promising. then he built a second machine, this time with a motor, but unfortunately during the trials it was smashed to pieces." but were these ideas of any practical value? how is it that he did not succeed in flying, if he had most of the component parts of an aeroplane as we know it to-day? the answer to the second question is that sir george did not fly, simply because there was no light petrol motor in existence; the crude motors in use were far too heavy, in proportion to the power developed, for service in a flying machine. it was recognized, not only by sir george, but by many other english engineers in the first half of the nineteenth century, that as soon as a sufficiently powerful and light engine did appear, then half the battle of the conquest of the air would be won. but his prophetic voice was of the utmost assistance to such inventors as santos dumont, the wright brothers, m. bleriot, and others now world-famed. it is quite safe to assume that they gave serious attention to the views held by sir george, which were given to the world at large in a number of highly-interesting lectures and magazine articles. "ideas" are the very foundation-stones of invention--if we may be allowed the figure of speech--and englishmen are proud, and rightly proud, to number within their ranks the original inventor of the heavier-than-air machine. chapter xvi. the "human birds" for many years after the publication of sir george cayley's articles and lectures on aviation very little was done in the way of aerial experiments. true, about midway through the nineteenth century two clever engineers, henson and stringfellow, built a model aeroplane after the design outlined by sir george; but though their model was not of much practical value, a little more valuable experience was accumulated which would be of service when the time should come; in other words, when the motor engine should arrive. this model can be seen at the victoria and albert museum, at south kensington. a few years later stringfellow designed a tiny steam-engine, which he fitted to an equally tiny monoplane, and it is said that by its aid he was able to obtain a very short flight through the air. as some recognition of his enterprise the aeronautical society, which was founded in , awarded him a prize of l for his engine. the idea of producing a practical form of flying machine was never abandoned entirely. here and there experiments continued to be carried out, and certain valuable conclusions were arrived at. many advanced thinkers and writers of half a century ago set forth their opinions on the possibilities of human flight. some of them, like emerson, not only believed that flight would come, but also stated why it had not arrived. thus emerson, when writing on the subject of air navigation about fifty years ago, remarked: "we think the population is not yet quite fit for them, and therefore there will be none. our friend suggests so many inconveniences from piracy out of the high air to orchards and lone houses, and also to high fliers, and the total inadequacy of the present system of defence, that we have not the heart to break the sleep of the great public by the repetition of these details. when children come into the library we put the inkstand and the watch on the high shelf until they be a little older." about the year a young german engineer, named otto lilienthal, began some experiments with a motorless glider, which in course of time were to make him world-famed. for nearly twenty years lilienthal carried on his aerial research work in secrecy, and it was not until about the year that his experimental work was sufficiently advanced for him to give demonstrations in public. the young german was a firm believer in what was known as the "soaring-plane" theory of flight. from the picture here given we can get some idea of his curious machine. it consisted of large wings, formed of thin osiers, over which was stretched light fabric. at the back were two horizontal rudders shaped somewhat like the long forked tail of a swallow, and over these was a large steering rudder. the wings were arranged around the glider's body. the whole apparatus weighed about pounds. lilienthal's flights, or glides, were made from the top of a specially-constructed large mound, and in some cases from the summit of a low tower. the "birdman" would stand on the top of the mound, full to the wind, and run quickly forward with outstretched wings. when he thought he had gained sufficient momentum he jumped into the air, and the wings of the glider bore him through the air to the base of the mound. to preserve the balance of his machine--always a most difficult feat--he swung his legs and hips to one side or the other, as occasion required, and, after hundreds of glides had been made, he became so skilful in maintaining the equilibrium of his machine that he was able to cover a distance, downhill, of yards. later on, lilienthal abandoned the glider, or elementary form of monoplane, and adopted a system of superposed planes, corresponding to the modern biplane. the promising career of this clever german was brought to an untimely end in , when, in attempting to glide from a height of about yards, his apparatus made a sudden downward swoop, and he broke his neck. now that lillenthal's experiments had proved conclusively the efficiency of wings, or planes, as carrying surfaces, other engineers followed in his footsteps, and tried to improve on his good work. the first "birdman" to use a glider in this country was mr. percy pilcher who carried out his experiments at cardross in scotland. his glides were at first made with a form of apparatus very similar to that employed by lilienthal, and in time he came to use much larger machines. so cumbersome, however, was his apparatus--it weighed nearly stones--that with such a great weight upon his shoulders he could not run forward quickly enough to gain sufficient momentum to "carry off" from the hillside. to assist him in launching the apparatus the machine was towed by horses, and when sufficient impetus had been gained the tow-rope was cast off. three years after lilienthal's death pilcher met with a similar accident. while making a flight his glider was overturned, and the unfortunate "birdman" was dashed to death. in america there were at this time two or three "human birds", one of the most famous being m. octave chanute. during the years - chanute made many flights in various types of gliding machines, some of which had as many as half a dozen planes arranged one above another. his best results, however, were obtained by the two-plane machine, resembling to a remarkable extent the modern biplane. chapter xvii. the aeroplane and the bird we have seen that the inventors of flying machines in the early days of aviation modelled their various craft somewhat in the form of a bird, and that many of them believed that if the conquest of the air was to be achieved man must copy nature and provide himself with wings. let us closely examine a modern monoplane and discover in what way it resembles the body of a bird in build. first, there is the long and comparatively narrow body, or fuselage, at the end of which is the rudder, corresponding to the bird's tail. the chassis, or under carriage, consisting of wheels, skids, &c., may well be compared with the legs of a bird, and the planes are very similar in construction to the bird's wings. but here the resemblance ends: the aeroplane does not fly, nor will it ever fly, as a bird flies. if we carefully inspect the wing of a bird--say a large bird, such as the crow--we shall find it curved or arched from front to back. this curve, however, is somewhat irregular. at the front edge of the wing it is sharpest, and there is a gradual dip or slope backwards and downwards. there is a special reason for this peculiar structure, as we shall see in a later chapter. now it is quite evident that the inventors of aeroplanes have modelled the planes of their craft on the bird's wing. strictly speaking, the word "plane" is a misnomer when applied to the supporting structure of an aeroplane. euclid defines a plane, or a plane surface, as one in which, any two points being taken, the straight line between them lies wholly in that surface. but the plane of a flying machine is curved, or cambered, and if one point were taken on the front of the so-called plane, and another on the back, a straight line joining these two points could not possibly lie wholly on the surface. all planes are not cambered to the same extent: some have a very small curvature; in others the curve is greatly pronounced. planes of the former type are generally fitted to racing aeroplanes, because they offer less resistance to the air than do deeply-cambered planes. indeed, it is in the degree of camber that the various types of flying machine show their chief diversity, just as the work of certain shipmasters is known by the particular lines of the bow and stern of the vessels which are built in their yards. birds fly by a flapping movement of their wings, or by soaring. we are quite familiar with both these actions: at one time the bird propels itself by means of powerful muscles attached to its wings by means of which the wings are flapped up and down; at another time the bird, with wings nicely adjusted so as to take advantage of all the peculiarities of the air currents, keeps them almost stationary, and soars or glides through the air. the method of soaring alone has long since been proved to be impracticable as a means of carrying a machine through the air, unless, of course, one describes the natural glide of an aeroplane from a great height down to earth as soaring. but the flapping motion was not proved a failure until numerous experiments by early aviators had been tried. probably the most successful attempt at propulsion by this method was that of a french locksmith named besnier. over two hundred years ago he made for himself a pair of light wooden paddles, with blades at either end, somewhat similar in shape to the double paddle of a canoe. these he placed over his shoulders, his feet being attached by ropes to the hindmost paddles. jumping off from some high place in the face of a stiff breeze, he violently worked his arms and legs, so that the paddles beat the air and gave him support. it is said that besnier became so expert in the management of his simple apparatus that he was able to raise himself from the ground, and skim lightly over fields and rivers for a considerable distance. now it has been shown that the enormous extent of wing required to support a man of average weight would be much too large to be flapped by man's arm muscles. but in this, as with everything else, we have succeeded in harnessing the forces of nature into our service as tools and machinery. and is not this, after all, one of the chief, distinctions between man and the lower orders of creation? the latter fulfil most of their bodily requirements by muscular effort. if a horse wants to get from one place to another it walks; man can go on wheels. none of the lower animals makes a single tool to assist it in the various means of sustaining life; but man puts on his "thinking-cap", and invents useful machines and tools to enable him to assist or dispense with muscular movement. thus we find that in aviation man has designed the propeller, which, by its rapid revolutions derived from the motive power of the aerial engine, cuts a spiral pathway through the air and drives the light craft rapidly forward. the chief use of the planes is for support to the machine, and the chief duty of the pilot is to balance and steer the craft by the manipulation of the rudder, elevation and warping controls. chapter xviii. a great british inventor of aeroplanes though, as we have seen, most of the early attempts at aerial navigation were made by foreign engineers, yet we are proud to number among the ranks of the early inventors of heavier-than-air machines sir hiram maxim, who, though an american by birth, has spent most of his life in britain and may therefore be called a british inventor. perhaps to most of us this inventor's name is known more in connection with the famous "maxim" gun, which he designed, and which was named after him. but as early as , when the construction of aeroplanes was in a very backward state, sir hiram succeeded in making an interesting and ingenious aeroplane, which he proposed to drive by a particularly light steam-engine. sir hiram's first machine, which was made in , was designed to be guided by a double set of rails, one set arranged below and the other above its running wheels. the intention was to make the machine raise itself just off the ground rails, but yet be prevented from soaring by the set of guard rails above the wheels, which acted as a check on it. the motive force was given by a very powerful steam-engine of over horse-power, and this drove two enormous propellers, some feet in length. the total weight of the machine was pounds, but even with this enormous weight the engine was capable of raising the machine from the ground. for three or four years sir hiram made numerous experiments with his aeroplane, but in it broke through the upper guard rail and turned itself over among the surrounding trees, wrecking itself badly. but though the maxim aeroplane did not yield very practical results, it proved that if a lighter but more powerful engine could be made, the chief difficulty iii the way of aerial flight would be removed. this was soon forthcoming in the invention of the petrol motor. in a lecture to the scottish aeronautical society, delivered in glasgow in november, , sir hiram claimed to be the inventor of the first machine which actually rose from the earth. before the distinguished inventor spoke of his own work in aviation he recalled experiments made by his father in - , when sir hiram was sixteen years of age. the flying machine designed by the elder maxim consisted of a small platform, which it was proposed to lift directly into the air by the action of two screw-propellers revolving in reverse directions. for a motor the inventor intended to employ some kind of explosive material, gunpowder preferred, but the lecturer distinctly remembered that his father said that if an apparatus could be successfully navigated through the air it would be of such inevitable value as a military engine that no matter how much it might cost to run it would be used by governments. of his own claim as an inventor of air-craft it would be well to quote sir hiram's actual words, as given by the glasgow herald, which contained a full report of the lecture. "some forty years ago, when i commenced to think of the subject, my first idea was to lift my machine by vertical propellers, and i actually commenced drawings and made calculations for a machine on that plan, using an oil motor, or something like a brayton engine, for motive power. however, i was completely unable to work out any system which would not be too heavy to lift itself directly into the air, and it was only when i commenced to study the aeroplane system that it became apparent to me that it would be possible to make a machine light enough and powerful enough to raise itself without the agency of a balloon. from the first i was convinced that it would be quite out of the question to employ a balloon in any form. at that time the light high-speed petrol motor had no existence. the only power available being steam-engines, i made all my calculations with a view of using steam as the motive power. while i was studying the question of the possibility of making a flying machine that would actually fly, i became convinced that there was but one system to work on, and that was the aeroplane system. i made many calculations, and found that an aeroplane machine driven by a steam-engine ought to lift itself into the air." sir hiram then went on to say that it was the work of making an automatic gun which was the direct cause of his experiments with flying machines. to continue the report: "one day i was approached by three gentlemen who were interested in the gun, and they asked me if it would be possible for me to build a flying machine, how long it would take, and how much it would cost. my reply was that it would take five years and would cost l , . the first three years would be devoted to developing a light internal-combustion engine, and the remaining two years to making a flying machine. "later on a considerable sum of money was placed at my disposal, and the experiments commenced, but unfortunately the gun business called for my attention abroad, and during the first two years of the experimental work i was out of england eighteen months. "although i had thought much of the internal-combustion engine it seemed to me that it would take too long to develop one and that it would be a hopeless task in my absence from england; so i decided that in my first experiments at least i would use a steam-engine. i therefore designed and made a steam-engine and boiler of which mr. charles parsons has since said that, next to the maxim gun, it developed more energy for its weight than any other heat engine ever made. that was true at the time, but is very wide of the mark now." speaking of motors, the veteran lecturer remarked: "perhaps there was no problem in the world on which mathematicians had differed so widely as on the problem of flight. twenty years ago experimenters said: 'give us a motor that will develop horse-power with the weight of a barnyard fowl, and we will very soon fly.' at the present moment they had motors which would develop over horse-power and did not weigh more than a -pound barnyard fowl. these engines had been developed--i might say created--by the builders of motor cars. extreme lightness had been gradually obtained by those making racing cars, and that had been intensified by aviators. in many cases a speed of or miles per hour had been attained, and machines had remained in the air for hours and had flown long distances. in some cases nearly a ton had been carried for a short distance." such words as these, coming from the lips of a great inventor, give us a deep insight into the working of the inventor's mind, and, incidentally, show us some of the difficulties which beset all pioneers in their tasks. the science of aviation is, indeed, greatly indebted to these early inventors, not the least of whom is the gallant sir hiram maxim. chapter xix. the wright brothers and their secret experiments in the beginning of the twentieth century many of the leading european newspapers contained brief reports of aerial experiments which were being carried out at dayton, in the state of ohio, america. so wonderful were the results of these experiments, and so mysterious were the movements of the two brothers--orville and wilbur wright--who conducted them, that many europeans would not believe the reports. no inventors have gone about their work more carefully, methodically, and secretly than did these two americans, who, hidden from prying eyes, "far from the madding crowd", obtained results which brought them undying fame in the world of aviation. for years they worked at their self-imposed task of constructing a flying machine which would really soar among the clouds. they had read brief accounts of the experiments carried out by otto lilienthal, and in many ways the ground had been well paved for them. it was their great ambition to become real "human birds"; "birds" that would not only glide along down the hillside, but would fly free and unfettered, choosing their aerial paths of travel and their places of destination. though there are few reliable accounts of their work in those remote american haunts, during the first six years of the present century, the main facts of their life-history are now well known, and we are able to trace their experiments, step by step, from the time when they constructed their first simple aeroplane down to the appearance of the marvellous biplane which has made them world-famed. for some time the wrights experimented with a glider, with which they accomplished even more wonderful results than those obtained by lilienthal. these two young american engineers--bicycle-makers by trade--were never in a hurry. step by step they made progress, first with kites, then with small gliders, and ultimately with a large one. the latter was launched into the air by men running forward with it until sufficient momentum had been gained for the craft to go forward on its own account. the first aeroplane made by the two brothers was a very simple one, as was the method adopted to balance the craft. there were two main planes made of long spreads of canvas arranged one above another, and on the lower plane the pilot lay. a little plane in front of the man was known as the elevator, and it could be moved up and down by the pilot; when the elevator was tilted up, the aeroplane ascended, when lowered, the machine descended. at the back was a rudder, also under control of the pilot. the pilot's feet, in a modern aeroplane, rest upon a bar working on a central swivel, and this moves the rudder. to turn to the left, the left foot is moved forward; to turn to the right the right foot. but it was in the balancing control of their machine that the wrights showed such great ingenuity. running from the edges of the lower plane were some wires which met at a point where the pilot could control them. the edges of the plane were flexible; that is, they could be bent slightly either up or down, and this movement of the flexible plane is known as wing warping. you know that when a cyclist is going round a curve his machine leans inwards. perhaps some of you have seen motor races, such as those held at brooklands; if so, you must have noticed that the track is banked very steeply at the corners, and when the motorist is going round these corners at, say, miles an hour, his motor makes a considerable angle with the level ground, and looks as if it must topple over. the aeroplane acts in a similar manner, and, unless some means are taken to prevent it, it will turn over. let us now see how the pilot worked the "wright" glider. suppose the machine tilted down on one side, while in the air, the pilot would pull down, or warp, the edges of the planes on that side of the machine which was the lower. by an ingenious contrivance, when one side was warped down, the other was warped up, with the effect that the machine would be brought back into a horizontal position. (as we shall return to the subject of wing warping in a later chapter, we need not discuss it further here.) it must not be imagined that as soon as the wrights had constructed a glider fitted with this clever system of controlling mechanism they could fly when and where they liked. they had to practise for two or three years before they were satisfied with the results of their experiments: neglecting no detail, profiting by their failures, and moving logically from step to step. they never attempted an experiment rashly: there was always a reason for what they did. in fact, their success was due to systematic progress, achieved by wonderful perseverance. but now, for a short time, we must leave the pioneer work of the wright brothers, and turn to the invention of the petrol engine as applied to the motor car, an invention which was destined to have far-reaching results on the science of aviation. chapter xx. the internal-combustion engine we have several times remarked upon the great handicap placed upon the pioneers of aviation by the absence of a light but powerful motor engine. the invention of the internal-combustion engine may be said to have revolutionized the science of flying; had it appeared a century ago, there is no reason to doubt that sir george cayley would have produced an aeroplane giving as good results as the machines which have appeared during the last five or six years. the motor engine and the aeroplane are inseparably connected; one is as necessary to the other as clay is to the potter's wheel, or coal to the blast-furnace. this being the case, it is well that we trace briefly the development of the engine during the last quarter of a century. the original mechanical genius of the motoring industry was gottlieb daimler, the founder of the immense daimler motor works of coventry. perhaps nothing in the world of industry has made more rapid strides during the last twenty years than automobilism. in our road traction was carried on by means of horses; now, especially in the large cities, it is already more than half mechanical, and at the present rate of progress it bids fair to be soon entirely horseless. about the year daimler was experimenting with models of a small motor engine, and the following year he fitted one of his most successful models to a light wagonette. the results were so satisfactory, that in he took out a patent for an internal-combustion engine--as the motor engine is technically called--and the principle on which this engine was worked aroused great enthusiasm on the continent. soon a young french engineer, named levassor, began to experiment with models of motor engines, and in he obtained, with others, the daimler rights to construct similar engines in france. from now on, french engineers began to give serious attention to the new engine, and soon great improvements were made in it. all this time britain held aloof from the motor-car; indeed, many britons scoffed at the idea of mechanically-propelled vehicles, saying that the time and money required for their development would be wasted. during the years - strange reports of smooth-moving, horseless cars, frequently appearing in public in france, began to reach britain, and people wondered if the french had stolen a march on us, and if there were anything in the new invention after all. our engineers had just begun to grasp the immense possibilities of daimler's engine, but the government gave them no encouragement. at length the hon. evelyn ellis, one of the first british motorists, introduced the "horseless carriage" into this country, and the following account of his early trips, which appeared in the windsor and eton express of th july, , may be interesting. "if anyone cares to run over to datchet, they will see the hon. evelyn ellis, of rosenau, careering round the roads, up hill and down dale, and without danger to life or limb, in his new motor carriage, which he brought over a short time ago from paris. "in appearance it is not unlike a four-wheeled dog-cart, except that the front part has a hood for use on long 'driving' tours, in the event of wet weather; it will accommodate four persons, one of whom, on the seat behind, would, of course, be the 'groom', a misnomer, perhaps, for carriage attendant. under the front seat are receptacles, one for tools with which to repair damages, in the event of a breakdown on the road, and the other for a store of oil, petroleum, or naphtha in cans, from which to replenish the oil tank of the carriage on the journey, if it be a long one. "can it be easily driven? we cannot say that such a vehicle would be suitable for a lady, unless rubber-tyred wheels and other improvements are made to the carriage, for a grim grip of the steering handle and a keen eye are necessary for its safe guidance, more especially if the high road be rough. it never requires to be fed, and as it is, moreover, unsusceptible of fatigue, it is obviously the sort of vehicle that should soon achieve a widespread popularity in this country. "it is a splendid hill climber, and, in fact, such a hill as that of priest hill (a pretty good test of its capabilities) shows that it climbs at a faster pace than a pedestrian can walk. "a trip from rosenau to old windsor, to the entrance of beaumont college, up priest hill, descending the steep, rough, and treacherous hill on the opposite side by woodside farm, past the workhouse, through old windsor, and back to rosenau within an hour, amply demonstrated how perfectly under control this carriage is, while the sensation of being whirled rapidly along is decidedly pleasing." another pioneer of motorism was the hon. c. s. rolls, whose untimely death at bournemouth in , while taking part in the bournemouth aviation meeting, was deeply deplored all over the country. mr. rolls made a tour of the country in a motor-car in , with the double object of impressing people with the stupidity of the law with regard to locomotion, and of illustrating the practical possibilities of the motor. you may know that mr. rolls was the first man to fly across the channel, and back again to dover, without once alighting. chapter xxi. the internal-combustion engine(cont.) i suppose many of my readers are quite familiar with the working of a steam-engine. probably you have owned models of steam-engines right from your earliest youth, and there are few boys who do not know how the railway engine works. but though you may be quite familiar with the mechanism of this engine, it does not follow that you know how the petrol engine works, for the two are highly dissimilar. it is well, therefore, that we include a short description of the internal-combustion engine such as is applied to motor-cars, for then we shall be able to understand the principles of the aeroplane engine. at present petrol is the chief fuel used for the motor engine. numerous experiments have been tried with other fuels, such as benzine, but petrol yields the best results. petrol is distilled from oil which comes from wells bored deep down in the ground in pennsylvania, in the south of russia, in burma, and elsewhere. also it is distilled in scotland from oil shale, from which paraffin oil and wax and similar substances are produced. when the oil is brought to the surface it contains many impurities, and in its native form is unsuitable for motor engines. the crude oil is composed of a number of different kinds of oil; some being light and clear, others heavy and thick. to purify the oil it is placed in a large metal vessel or "still". steam is first passed over the oil in the still, and this changes the lightest of the oils into vapours. these vapours are sent through a series of pipes surrounded with cold water, where they are cooled and become liquid again. petrol is a mixture of these lighter products of the oil. if petrol be placed in the air it readily turns into a vapour, and this vapour is extremely inflammable. for this reason petrol is always kept in sealed tins, and very large quantities are not allowed to be stored near large towns. the greatest care has to be exercised in the use of this "unsafe" spirit. for example, it is most dangerous to smoke when filling a tank with petrol, or to use the spirit near a naked light. many motor-cars have been set on fire through the petrol leaking out of the tank in which it is carried. the tank which contains the petrol is placed under one of the seats of the motor-car, or at the rear; if in use on a motor-cycle it is arranged along the top bar of the frame, just in front of the driver. this tank is connected to the "carburettor", a little vessel having a small nozzle projecting upwards in its centre. the petrol trickles from the tank into the carburettor, and is kept at a constant level by means of a float which acts in a very similar way to the ballcock of a water cistern. the carburettor is connected to the cylinder of the engine by another pipe, and there is valve which is opened by the engine itself and is closed by a spring. by an ingenious contrivance the valve is opened when the piston moves out of the cylinder, and a vacuum is created behind it and in the carburettor. this carries a fine spray of petrol to be sucked up through the nozzle. air is also sucked into the carburettor, and the mixture of air and petrol spray produces an inflammable vapour which is drawn straight into the cylinder of the engine. as soon as the piston moves back, the inlet valve is automatically closed and the vapour is compressed into the top of the cylinder. this is exploded by an electric spark, which is passed between two points inside the cylinder, and the force of the explosion drives the piston outwards again. on its return the "exhaust" or burnt gases are driven out through another valve, known as the "exhaust" valve. whether the engine has two, four, or six cylinders, the car is propelled in a similar way for all the pistons assist in turning one shaft, called the engine shaft, which runs along the centre of the car to the back axle. the rapid explosions in the cylinder produce great heat, and the cylinders are kept cool by circulating water round them. when the water has become very hot it passes through a number of pipes, called the "radiator", placed in front of the car; the cold air rushing between the coils cools the water, so that it can be used over and over again. no water is needed for the engine of a motor cycle. you will notice that the cylinders are enclosed by wide rings of metal, and these rings are quite sufficient to radiate the heat as quickly as it is generated. chapter xxii. the aeroplane engine we have seen that a very important part of the internal-combustion engine, as used on the motor-car, is the radiator, which prevents the engine from becoming overheated and thus ceasing to work. the higher the speed at which the engine runs the hotter does it become, and the greater the necessity for an efficient cooling apparatus. but the motor on an aeroplane has to do much harder work than the motor used for driving the motor-car, while it maintains a much higher speed. thus there is an even greater tendency for it to become overheated; and the great problem which inventors of aeroplane engines have had to face is the construction of a light but powerful engine equipped with some apparatus for keeping it cool. many different forms of aeroplane engines have been invented during the last few years. some inventors preferred the radiator system of cooling the engine, but the tank containing the water, and the radiator itself, added considerably to the weight of the motor, and this, of course, was a serious drawback to its employment. but in there appeared a most ingeniously-constructed engine which was destined to take a very prominent part in the progress of aviation. this was the famous "gnome" engine, by means of which races almost innumerable have been won, and amazing records established. we have already referred to the engine shaft of the motor-car, which is revolved by the pistons of the various fixed cylinders. in all aeroplane engines which had appeared before the gnome the same principle of construction had been adopted; that is to say, the cylinders were fixed, and the engine shaft revolved. but in the gnome engine the reverse order of things takes place; the shaft is fixed, and the cylinders fly round it at a tremendous speed. thus the rapid whirl in the air keeps the engine cool, and cumbersome tanks and unwieldy radiators can be dispensed with. this arrangement enabled the engine to be made very light and yet be of greater horse-power than that attained by previously-existing engines. a further very important characteristic of the rotary-cylinder engine is that no flywheel is used; in a stationary engine it has been found necessary to have a fly-wheel in addition to the propeller. the rotary-cylinder engine acts as its own fly-wheel, thus again saving considerable weight. the new engine astonished experts when they first examined it, and all sorts of disasters to it were predicted. it was of such revolutionary design that wiseacres shook their heads and said that any pilot who used it would be constantly in trouble with it. but during the last few years it has passed from one triumph to another, commencing with a long-distance record established by henri farman at rheims, in . it has since been used with success by aviators all the world over. that in the aerial derby of --which was flown over a course of miles around london--six of the eleven machines which took part in the race were fitted with gnome engines, and victory was achieved by mr. gustav hamel, who drove an -horse-power gnome, is conclusive evidence of the high value of this engine in aviation. chapter xxiii. a famous british inventor of aviation engines in the general design and beauty of workmanship involved in the construction of aeroplanes, britain is now quite the equal of her foreign rivals; even in engines we are making extremely rapid progress, and the well-known green engine company, profiting by the result of nine years' experience, are able to turn out aeroplane engines as reliable, efficient, and as light in pounds weight per horse-power as any aero engine in existence. in the early days of aviation larger and better engines of british make specially suited for aeroplanes were our most urgent need. the story of the invention of the "green" engine is a record of triumph over great difficulties. early in --the memorable year when m. bleriot was firing the enthusiasm of most engineers by his cross-channel flight; when records were being established at rheims; and when m. paulhan won the great prize of l , for the london to manchester flight--mr. green conceived a number of ingenious ideas for an aero engine. one of mr. green's requirements was that the cylinders should be made of cast-steel, and that they should come from a british foundry. the company that took the work in hand, the aster company, had confidence in the inventor's ideas. it is said that they had to waste castings before six perfect cylinders were produced. it is estimated that the first green engine cost l . these engines can be purchased for less than l . the closing months of saw the green engine firmly established. in october of that year mr. moore brabazon won the first all-british competition of l offered by the daily mail for the first machine to fly a circular mile course. his aeroplane was fitted with a -horse-power green aero engine. in the same year m. michelin offered l for a long-distance flight in all-british aviation; this prize was also won by mr. brabazon, who made a flight of miles. some of colonel cody's achievements in aviation were made with the green engine. in he succeeded in winning both the duration and cross-country michelin competitions, and in he again accomplished similar feats. in this year he also finished fourth in the all-round-britain race. this was a most meritorious performance when it is remembered that his cathedral weighed nearly a ton and a half, and that the -horse-power green was practically "untouched", to use an engineering expression, during the whole of the -mile flight. the following year saw cody winning another michelin prize for a cross-country competition. here he made a flight of over miles, and his high opinion of the engine may be best described in the letter he wrote to the company, saying: "if you kept the engine supplied from without with petrol and oil, what was within would carry you through". but the pinnacle of mr. green's fame as an inventor was reached in , when mr. harry hawker made his memorable waterplane flight from cowes to lough shinny, an account of which appears in a later chapter. his machine was fitted with a -horse-power green, and with it he flew miles of the -miles course. though the complete course was not covered, neither mr. sopwith--who built the machine and bore the expenses of the flight--nor mr. hawker attached any blame to the engine. at a dinner of the aero club, given in , mr. sopwith was most enthusiastic in discussing the merits of the "green", and after harry hawker had recovered from the effects of his fall in lough shinny he remarked in reference to the engine: "it is the best i have ever met. i do not know any other that would have done anything like the work." at the same time that this race was being held the french had a competition from paris to deauville, a distance of about miles. when compared with the time and distance covered by mr. hawker, the results achieved by the french pilots, flying machines fitted with french engines, were quite insignificant; thus proving how the british industry had caught up, and even passed, its closest rivals. in mr. grahame white, with one of the -horse-power "greens" succeeded in winning the duration michelin with a flight of over miles, carrying a mechanic and pilot, gallons of petrol, and gallons of lubricating oil. compulsory landings were made every miles, and the engine was stopped. in spite of these trying conditions, the engine ran, from start to finish, nearly nine hours without the slightest trouble. sufficient has been said to prove conclusively that the thought and labour expended in the perfecting of the green engine have not been fruitless. chapter xxiv. the wright biplane (camber of planes) now that the internal-combustion engine had arrived, the wrights at once commenced the construction of an aeroplane which could be driven by mechanical power. hitherto, as we have seen, they had made numerous tests with motorless gliders; but though these tests gave them much valuable information concerning the best methods of keeping their craft on an even keel while in the air, they could never hope to make much progress in practical flight until they adopted motor power which would propel the machine through the air. we may assume that the two brothers had closely studied the engines patented by daimler and levassor, and, being of a mechanical turn of mind themselves, they were able to build their own motor, with which they could make experiments in power-driven flight. before we study the gradual progress of these experiments it would be well to describe the wright biplane. the illustration facing p. shows a typical biplane, and though there are certain modifications in most modern machines, the principles upon which it was built apply to all aeroplanes. the two main supporting planes, a, b, are made of canvas stretched tightly across a light frame, and are slightly curved, or arched, from front to back. this curve is technically known as the camber, and upon the camber depend the strength and speed of the machine. if you turn back to chapter xvii you will see that the plane is modelled after the wing of a bird. it has been found that the lifting power of a plane gradually dwindles from the front edge--or entering edge, as it is called--backwards. for this reason it is necessary to equip a machine with a very long, narrow plane, rather than with a comparatively broad but short plane. perhaps a little example will make this clear. suppose we had two machines, one of which was fitted with planes feet long and foot wide, and the other with planes feet square. in the former the entering edge of the plane would be twelve times as great as in the latter, and the lifting power would necessarily be much greater. thus, though both machines have planes of the same area, each plane having a surface of square feet, yet there is a great difference in the "lift" of the two. but it is not to be concluded that the back portion of a plane is altogether wasted. numerous experiments have taught aeroplane constructors that if the plane were slightly curved from front to back the rear portion of the plane also exercised a "lift"; thus, instead of the air being simply cut by the entering edge of the plane, it is driven against the arched back of the plane, and helps to lift the machine into the air, and support it when in flight. there is also a secondary lifting impulse derived from this simple curve. we have seen that the air which has been cut by the front edge of the plane pushes up from below, and is arrested by the top of the arch, but the downward dip of the rear portion of the plane is of service in actually drawing the air from above. the rapid air stream which has been cut by the entering edge passes above the top of the curve, and "sucks up", as it were, so that the whole wing is pulled upwards. thus there are two lifting impulses: one pushing up from below, the other sucking up from above. it naturally follows that when the camber is very pronounced the machine will fly much slower, but will bear a greater weight than a machine equipped with planes having little or no camber. on high-speed machines, which are used chiefly for racing purposes, the planes have very little camber. this was particularly noticeable in the monoplane piloted by mr. hamel in the aerial derby of : the wings of this machine seemed to be quite flat, and it was chiefly because of this that the pilot was able to maintain such marvellous speed. the scientific study of the wing lift of planes has proceeded so far that the actual "lift" can now be measured, providing the speed of the machine is known, together with the superficial area of the planes. the designer can calculate what weight each square foot of the planes will support in the air. thus some machines have a "lift" of or pounds to each square foot of wing surface, while others are reduced to or pounds per square foot. chapter xxv. the wright biplane (cont.) the under part of the frame of the wright biplane, technically known as the chassis, resembled a pair of long "runner" skates, similar to those used in the fens for skating races. upon those runners the machine moved along the ground when starting to fly. in more modern machines the chassis is equipped with two or more small rubber-tyred wheels on which the machine runs along the ground before rising into the air, and on which it alights when a descent is made. you will notice that the pilot's seat is fixed on the lower plane, and almost in the centre of it, while close by the engine is mounted. alongside the engine is a radiator which cools the water that has passed round the cylinder of the engine in order to prevent them from becoming overheated. above the lower plane is a similar plane arranged parallel to it, and the two are connected by light upright posts of hickory wood known as struts. such an aeroplane as this, which is equipped with two main planes, known as a biplane. other types of air-craft are the monoplane, possessing one main plane, and the triplane, consisting of three planes. no practical machine has been built with more than three main planes; indeed, the triplane is now almost obsolete. the wrights fitted their machine with two long-bladed wooden screws, or propellers, which by means of chains and sprocket-wheels, very like those of a bicycle, were driven by the engine, whose speed was about revolutions a minute. the first motor engine used by these clever pioneers had four cylinders, and developed about horsepower. nowadays engines are produced which develop more than five times that power. in later machines one propeller is generally thought to be sufficient; in fact many constructors believe that there is danger in a two-propeller machine, for if one propeller got broken, the other propeller, working at full speed, would probably overturn the machine before the pilot could cut off his engine. beyond the propellers there are two little vertical planes which can be moved to one side or the other by a control lever in front of the pilot's seat. these planes or rudders steer the machine from side to side, answering the same purpose as the rudder of a boat. in front of the supporting planes there are two other horizontal planes, arranged one above the other; these are much smaller than the main planes, and are known as the elevators. their function is to raise or lower the machine by catching the air at different angles. comparison with a modern biplane, such as may be seen at an aerodrome on any "exhibition" day, will disclose several marked differences in construction between the modern type and the earlier wright machine, though the central idea is the same. chapter xxvi. how the wrights launched their biplane those of us who have seen an aeroplane rise from the ground know that it runs quickly along for or yards, until sufficient momentum has been gained for the craft to lift itself into the air. the wrights, as stated, fitted their machine with a pair of launching runners which projected from the under side of the lower plane like two very long skates, and the method of launching their craft was quite different from that followed nowadays. the launching apparatus consisted of a wooden tower at the starting end of the launching ways--a wooden rail about or feet in length. to the top of the tower a weight of about / ton was suspended. the suspension rope was led downwards over pulleys, thence horizontally to the front end and back to the inner end of the railway, where it was attached to the aeroplane. a small trolley was fitted to the chassis of the machine and this ran along the railway. to launch the machine, which, of course, stood on the rail, the propellers were set in motion, and the / -ton weight at the top of the tower was released. the falling weight towed the aeroplane rapidly forward along the rail, with a velocity sufficient to cause it to glide smoothly into the air at the other end of the launching ways. by an ingenious arrangement the trolley was left behind on the railway. it will at once occur to you that there were disadvantages in this system of commencing a flight. one was that the launching apparatus was more or less a fixture. at any rate it could not be carried about from place to place very readily: supposing the biplane could not return to its starting-point, and the pilot was forced to descend, say, or miles away: in such a case it would be necessary to tow the machine back to the launching ways, an obviously inconvenient arrangement, especially in unfavourable country. for some time the "wheeled" chassis has been in universal use, but in a few cases it has been thought desirable to adopt a combination of runners and wheels. a moderately firm surface is necessary for the machine to run along the ground; if the ground be soft or marly the wheels would sink in the soil, and serious accidents have resulted from the sudden stoppage of the forward motion due to this cause. with their first power-driven machine the wrights made a series of very fine flights, at first in a straight line. in they effected their first turn. by the following year they had made such rapid progress that they were able to exceed a distance of miles in one flight, and keep up in the air for over half an hour at a time. their manager now gave their experiments great publicity, both in the american and european press, and in the brothers, feeling quite sure of their success, emerged from a self-imposed obscurity, and astonished the world with some wonderful flights, both in america and on the french flying ground at issy. a great loss to aviation occurred on th may, , when wilbur wright died from an attack of typhoid fever. his work is officially commemorated in britain by an annual premium lecture, given under the auspices of the aeronautical society. chapter xxvii. the first man to fly in europe in november, , nearly the whole civilized world was astonished to read that a rich young brazilian aeronaut, residing in france, had actually succeeded in making a short flight, or, shall we say, an enormous "hop", in a heavier-than-air machine. this pioneer of aviation was m. santos dumont. for five or six years before his experiments with the aeroplane he had made a great many flights in balloons, and also in dirigible balloons. he was the son of well-to-do parents--his father was a successful coffee planter--and he had ample means to carry on his costly experiments. flying was santos dumont's great hobby. even in boyhood, when far away in brazil, he had been keenly interested in the work of spencer, green, and other famous aeronauts, and aeronautics became almost a passion with him. towards the end of the year he designed a rather novel form of air-ship. the balloon was shaped like an enormous cigar, some feet long, and it was inflated with about cubic feet of hydrogen. the most curious contrivance, however, was the motor. this was suspended from the balloon, and was somewhat similar to the small motor used on a motor-cycle. santos dumont sat beside this motor, which worked a propeller, and this curious craft was guided several times by the inventor round the botanical gardens in paris. about two years after these experiments the science of aeronautics received very valuable aid from m. deutsch, a member of the french aero club. a prize of about l was offered by this gentleman to the man who should first fly from the aero club grounds at longchamps, double round the eiffel tower, and then sail back to the starting-place. the total distance to be flown was rather more than miles, and it was stipulated that the journey--which could be made either in a dirigible air-ship or a flying machine--should be completed within half an hour. this munificent offer at once aroused great enthusiasm among aeronauts and engineers throughout the whole of france, and, to a lesser degree, in britain. santos dumont at once set to work on another air-ship, which was equipped with a much more powerful motor than he had previously used. in july, , his arrangements were completed, and he made his first attempt to win the prize. the voyage from longchamps to the eiffel tower was made in very quick time, for a favourable wind speeded the huge balloon on its way. the pilot was also able to steer a course round the tower, but his troubles then commenced. the wind was now in his face, and his engine-a small motor engine of about horse-power-was unable to produce sufficient power to move the craft quickly against the wind. the plucky inventor kept fighting against the-breeze, and at length succeeded in returning to his starting-point; but he had exceeded the time limit by several minutes and thus, was disqualified for the prize. another attempt was made by santos dumont about a month later. this time, however, he was more unfortunate, and he had a marvellous escape from death. as on the previous occasion he got into great difficulties when sailing against the wind on the return journey, and his balloon became torn, so that the gas escaped and the whole craft crashed down on the house-tops. eyewitnesses of the accident expected to find the gallant young brazilian crushed to death; but to their great relief he was seen to be hanging to the car, which had been caught upon the buttress of a house. even now he was in grave peril, but after a long delay he was rescued by means of a rope. it might be thought that such an accident would have deterred the inventor from making further attempts on the prize; but the aeronaut seemed to be well endowed with the qualities of patience and perseverance and continued to try again. trial after trial was made, and numerous accidents took place. on nearly every occasion it was comparatively easy to sail round the tower, but it was a much harder task to sail back again. at length in october, , he was thought to have completed the course in the allotted time; but the aero club held that he had exceeded the time limit by forty seconds. this decision aroused great indignation among parisians--especially among those who had watched the flight--many of whom were convinced that the journey had been accomplished in the half-hour. after much argument the committee which had charge of the race, acting on the advice of m. deutsch, who was very anxious that the prize should be awarded to santos dumont, decided that the conditions of the flight had been complied with, and that the prize had been legitimately won. it is interesting to read that the famous aeronaut divided the money among the poor. but important though santos dumont's experiments were with the air-ship, they were of even greater value when he turned his attention to the aeroplane. one of his first trials with a heavier-than-air machine was made with a huge glider, which was fitted with floats. the curious craft was towed along the river seine by a fast motor boat named the rapiere, and it actually succeeded in rising into the air and flying behind the boat like a gigantic kite. th november, , is a red-letter day in the history of aviation, for it was then that santos dumont made his first little flight in an aeroplane. this took place at bagatelle, not far from paris. two months before this the airman had succeeded in driving his little machine, called the bird of prey, many yards into the air, and " yards through the air", as the newspapers reported; but the craft was badly smashed. it was not until november that the first really satisfactory flight took place. a description of this flight appeared in most of the european newspapers, and i give a quotation from one of them: "the aeroplane rose gracefully and gently to a height of about feet above the earth, covering in this most remarkable dash through the air a distance of about feet in twenty-one seconds. "it thus progressed through the atmosphere at the rate of nearly miles an hour. nothing like this has ever been accomplished before.... the aeroplane has now reached the practical stage." the dimensions of this aeroplane were: length feet greatest width feet weight with one passenger pounds speed miles an hour a modern aeroplane with airman and passenger frequently weighs over ton, and reaches a speed of over miles an hour. it is interesting to note that santos dumont, in --that is, only seven years after his flight in an aeroplane at bagatelle made him world-famous--announced his intention of again taking an active part in aviation. his purpose was to make use of aeroplanes merely for pleasure, much as one might purchase a motor-car for the same object. could the intrepid brazilian in his wildest dreams have foreseen the rapid advance of the last eight years? in no one had flown in europe; by hundreds of machines were in being, in which the pilots were no longer subject to the wind's caprices, but could fly almost where and when they would. frenchmen have honoured, and rightly honoured, this gallant and picturesque figure in the annals of aviation, for in a magnificent monument was unveiled in france to commemorate his pioneer work. chapter xxviii. m. bleriot and the monoplane if the wright brothers can lay claim to the title of "fathers of the biplane", then it is certain that m. bleriot, the gallant french airman, can be styled the "father of the monoplane." for five years-- to --louis bleriot's name was on everybody's lips in connection with his wonderful records in flying and skilful feats of airmanship. perhaps the flight which brought him greatest renown was that accomplished in july, , when he was the first man to cross the english channel by aeroplane. this attempt had been forestalled, although unsuccessfully, by hubert latham, a daring aviator who is best known in lancashire by his flight in at blackpool in a wind which blew at the rate of nearly miles an hour--a performance which struck everyone with wonder in these early days of aviation. latham attempted, on an antoinette monoplane, to carry off the prize of l offered by the proprietors of the daily mail. on the first occasion he fell in mid-channel, owing to the failure of his motor, and was rescued by a torpedo-boat. his machine was so badly damaged during the salving operations that another had to be sent from paris, and with this he made a second attempt, which was also unsuccessful. meanwhile m. bleriot had arrived on the scene; and on th july he crossed the channel from calais to dover in thirty-seven minutes and was awarded the l prize. bleriot's fame was now firmly established, and on his return to france he received a magnificent welcome. the monoplane at once leaped into favour, and the famous "bird man" had henceforth to confine his efforts to the building of machines and the organization of flying events. he has since established a large factory in france and inaugurated a flying school at pau. all the time that the wrights were experimenting with their glider and biplane in america, and the voisin brothers were constructing biplanes in france, bleriot had been giving earnest attention to the production of a real "bird" machine, provided with one pair of flapping wings. we know now that such an aeroplane is not likely to be of practical use, but with quiet persistence bleriot kept to his task, and succeeded in evolving the famous antoinette monoplane, which more closely resembles a bird than does any other form of air-craft. in the illustration of the bleriot monoplane here given you will notice that there is one main plane, consisting of a pair of highly-cambered wings; hence the name "monoplane". at the rear of the machine there is a much smaller plane, which is slightly cambered; this is the elevating plane, and it can be tilted up or down in order to raise or lower the machine. remember that the elevating plane of a biplane is to the front of the machine and in the monoplane at the rear. the small, upright plane g is the rudder, and is used for steering the machine to the right or left. the long narrow body or framework of the monoplane is known as the fuselage. by a close study of the illustration, and the description which accompanies it, you will understand how the machine is driven. the main plane is twisted, or warped, when banking, much in the same way that the wright biplane is warped. far greater speed can be obtained from the monoplane than from the biplane, chiefly because in the former machine there is much less resistance to the air. both height and speed records stand to the credit of the monoplane. the enormous difference in the speeds of monoplanes and biplanes can be best seen at a race meeting at some aerodrome. thus at hendon, when a speed handicap is in progress, the slow biplanes have a start of one or two laps over the rapid little monoplanes in a six-lap contest, and it is most amusing to see the latter dart under, or over, the more cumbersome biplane. recently however, much faster biplanes have been built, and they bid fair to rival the swiftest monoplanes in speed. there is, however, one serious drawback to the use of the monoplane: it is far more dangerous to the pilot than is the biplane. most of the fatal accidents in aviation have been caused through mishaps to monoplanes or their engines, and chiefly for this reason the biplane has to a large extent supplanted the monoplane in warfare. the biplane, too, is better adapted for observation work, which is, after all, the chief use of air-craft. in a later chapter some account will be given of the three types of aeroplane which the war has evolved--the general-purposes machine, the single-seater "fighter", and those big bomb-droppers, the british handley page and the german gotha. chapter xxix. henri farman and the voisin biplane the coming of the motor engine made events move rapidly in the world of aviation. about the year people's attention was drawn to france, where santos dumont was carrying out the wonderful experiments which we have already described. then came henri farman, who piloted the famous biplane built by the voisin brothers in ; an aeroplane destined to bring world-wide renown to its clever constructors and its equally clever and daring pilot. there were notable points of distinction between the voisin biplane and that built by the wrights. the latter, as we have seen, had two propellers; the former only one. the launching skids of the wright biplane gave place to wheels on farman's machine. one great advantage, however, possessed by the early wright biplane over its french rivals, was in its greater general efficiency. the power of the engine was only about one-half of the power required in certain of the french designs. this was chiefly due to the use of the launching rail, for it needed much greater motor power to make a machine rise from the ground by its own motor engine than when it received a starting lift from a falling weight. even in our modern aeroplanes less engine power is required to drive the craft through the air than to start from the ground. farman achieved great fame through his early flights, and, on th january, , at the flying ground at issy, in france, he won the prize of l , offered by mm. deutsch and archdeacon to the first aviator who flew a circular kilometre. in july of the same year he won another substantial prize given by a french engineer, m. armengaud, to the first pilot who remained aloft for a quarter of an hour. probably an even greater performance was the cross-country flight made by farman about three months later. in the flight he passed over hills, valleys, rivers, villages, and woods on his journey from chalons to rheims, which he accomplished in twenty minutes. in the early models of the voisin machine there were fitted between the two main planes a number of vertical planes, as shown clearly in the illustration facing p. . it was thought that these planes would increase the stability of the machine, independent of the skill of the operator, and in calm weather they were highly effective. their great drawback, however, was that when a strong side wind caught them the machine was blown out of its course. subsequently farman considerably modified the early-type voisin biplane, as shown by the illustration facing p. . the vertical planes were dispensed with, and thus the idea of automatic stability was abandoned. but an even greater distinction between the farman biplane and that designed by the wrights was in the adoption of a system of small movable planes, called ailerons, fixed at extremities of the main planes, instead of the warping controls which we have already described. the ailerons, which are adapted to many of our modern aeroplanes, are really balancing flaps, actuated by a control lever at the right side of the pilot's seat, and the principle on which they are worked is very similar to that employed in the warp system of lateral stability. chapter xxx. a famous british inventor about the time that m. bleriot was developing his monoplane, and santos dumont was astonishing the world with his flying feats at bagatelle, a young army officer was at work far away in a secluded part of the scottish highlands on the model of an aeroplane. this young man was lieutenant j. w. dunne, and his name has since been on everyone's lips wherever aviation is discussed. much of lieutenant dunne's early experimental work was done on the duke of atholl's estate, and the story goes that such great secrecy was observed that "the tenants were enrolled as a sort of bodyguard to prevent unauthorized persons from entering". for some time the war office helped the inventor with money, for the numerous tests and trials necessary in almost every invention before satisfactory results are achieved are very costly. probably the inventor did not make sufficiently rapid progress with his novel craft, for he lost the financial help and goodwill of the government for a time; but he plodded on, and at length his plans were sufficiently advanced for him to carry on his work openly. it must be borne in mind that at the time dunne first took up the study of aviation no one had flown in europe, and he could therefore receive but little help from the results achieved by other pilots and constructors. but in the autumn of lieutenant dunne's novel aeroplane was the talk of both europe and america. innumerable trials had been made in the remote flying ground at eastchurch, isle of sheppey, and the machine became so far advanced that it made a cross-channel flight from eastchurch to paris. it remained in france for some time, and commander felix, of the french army, made many excellent flights in it. unfortunately, however, when flying near deauville, engine trouble compelled the officer to descend; but in making a landing in a very small field, not much larger than a tennis-court, several struts of the machine were damaged. it was at once seen that the aeroplane could not possibly be flown until it had been repaired and thoroughly overhauled. to do this would take several days, especially as there were no facilities for repairing the craft near by, and to prevent anyone from making a careful examination of the aeroplane, and so discovering the secret features which had been so jealously guarded, the machine was smashed up after the engine had been removed. at that time this was the only dunne aeroplane in existence, but of course the plans were in the possession of the inventor, and it was an easy task to make a second machine from the same model. two more machines were put in hand at hendon, and a third at eastchurch. on th october, , the dunne aeroplane made its first public appearance at hendon, in the london aerodrome, piloted by commander felix. the most striking distinction between this and other biplanes is that its wings or planes, instead of reaching from side to side of the engine, stretch back in the form of the letter v, with the point of the v to the front. these wings extend so far to the rear that there is no need of a tail to the machine, and the elevating plane in front can also be dispensed with. this curious and unique design in aeroplane construction was decided upon by lieutenant dunne after a prolonged observation at close quarters of different birds in flight, and the inventor claims for his aeroplane that it is practically uncapsizable. perhaps, however, this is too much to claim for any heavier-than-air machine; but at all events the new design certainly appears to give greater stability, and it is to be hoped that by this and other devices the progress of aviation will not in the future be so deeply tinged with tragedy. chapter xxxi. the romance of a cowboy aeronaut in the brief but glorious history of pioneer work in aviation, so far as it applies to this country, there is scarcely a more romantic figure to be found than colonel cody. it was the writer's pleasure to come into close contact with cody during the early years of his experimental work with man-lifting box-kites at the alexandra park, london, and never will his genial smile and twinkling eye be forgotten. cody always seemed ready to crack a joke with anyone, and possibly there was no more optimistic man in the whole of britain. to the boys and girls of wood green he was a popular hero. he was usually clad in a "cowboy" hat, red flannel shirt, and buckskin breeches, and his hair hung down to his shoulders. on certain occasions he would give a "wild west" exhibition at the alexandra palace, and one of his most daring tricks with the gun was to shoot a cigarette from a lady's lips. one could see that he was entire master of the rifle, and a trick which always brought rounds of applause was the hitting of a target while standing with his back to it, simply by the aid of a mirror held at the butt of his rifle. but it is of cody as an aviator and aeroplane constructor that we wish to speak. for some reason or other he was generally the object of ridicule, both in the press and among the public. why this should have been so is not quite clear; possibly his quaint attire had something to do with it, and unfriendly critics frequently raised a laugh at his expense over the enormous size of his machines. so large were they that the cody biplane was laughingly called the "cody bus" or the "cody cathedral." but in the end cody fought down ridicule and won fame, for in competition with some of the finest machines of the day, piloted by some of our most expert airmen, he won the prize of l offered by the government in in connection with the army trials for aeroplanes. in these trials he astonished everyone by obtaining a speed of over miles an hour in his biplane, which weighed pounds. in the opening years of the present century cody spent much time in demonstrations with huge box-kites, and for a time this form of kite was highly popular with boys of north london. in these kites he made over two hundred flights, reaching, on some occasions, an altitude of over feet. at all times of the day he could have been seen on the slopes of the palace hill, hauling these strange-looking, bat-like objects backward and forward in the wind. reports of his experiments appeared in the press, but cody was generally looked upon as a "crank". the war office, however, saw great possibilities in the kites for scouting purposes in time of war, and they paid cody l for his invention. it is a rather romantic story of how cody came to take up experimental work with kites, and it is repeated as it was given by a mohawk chief to a newspaper representative. "on one occasion when cody was in a lancashire town with his wild west show, his son leon went into the street with a parrot-shaped kite. leon was attired in a red shirt, cowboy trousers, and sombrero, and soon a crowd of youngsters in clogs was clattering after him. "'if a boy can interest a crowd with a little kite, why can't a man interest a whole nation?' thought cody--and so the idea of man-lifting kites developed." in cody made a daring but unsuccessful attempt to cross the channel in a boat drawn by two kites. had he succeeded he intended to cross the atlantic by similar means. later on, cody turned his attention to the construction of aeroplanes, but he was seriously handicapped by lack of funds. his machines were built with the most primitive tools, and some of our modern constructors, working in well-equipped "shops", where the machinery is run by electric plant, would marvel at the work accomplished with such tools as those used by cody. most of cody's flights were made on laffan's plain, and he took part in the great "round britain" race in . it was characteristic of the man that in this race he kept on far in the wake of mm. beaumont and vedrines, though he knew that he had not the slightest chance of winning the prize; and, days after the successful pilot had arrived back at brooklands, cody's "bus" came to earth in the aerodrome. "it's dogged as does it," he remarked, "and i meant to do the course, even if i took a year over it." of cody's sad death at farnborough, when practising in the ill-fated water-plane which he intended to pilot in the sea flight round great britain in , we speak in a later chapter. chapter xxxii. three historic flights when the complete history of aviation comes to be written, there will be three epoch-making events which will doubtless be duly appreciated by the historian, and which may well be described as landmarks in the history of flight. these are the three great contests organized by the proprietors of the daily mail, respectively known as the "london to manchester" flight, the "round britain flight in an aeroplane", and the "water-plane flight round great britain." in any account of aviation which deals with the real achievements of pioneers who have helped to make the science of flight what it is to-day, it would be unfair not to mention the generosity of lord northcliffe and his co-directors of the daily mail towards the development of aviation in this country. up to the time of writing, the sum of l , has been paid by the daily mail in the encouragement of flying, and prizes to the amount of l , are still on offer. in addition to these prizes this journal has maintained pilots who may be described as "missionaries of aviation". perhaps the foremost of them is m. salmet, who has made hundreds of flights in various parts of the country, and has aroused the greatest enthusiasm wherever he has flown. the progress of aviation undoubtedly owes a great deal to the press, for the newspaper has succeeded in bringing home to most people the fact that the possession of air-craft is a matter of national importance. it was of little use for airmen to make thrilling flights up and down an aerodrome, with the object of interesting the general public, if the newspapers did not record such flights, and though in the very early days of aviation some newspapers adopted an unfriendly attitude towards the possibilities of practical aviation, nearly all the press has since come to recognize the aeroplane as a valuable means of national defence. right from the start the daily mail foresaw the importance of promoting the new science of flight by the award of prizes, and its public-spirited enterprise has done much to break up the prevailing apathy towards aviation among the british nation. if these three great events had been mere spectacles and nothing else--such as, for instance, that great horse-race known as "the derby"--this chapter would never have been written. but they are most worthy of record because all three have marked clearly-defined stepping-stones in the progress of flight; they have proved conclusively that aviation is practicable, and that its ultimate entry into the busy life of the world is no more than a matter of perfecting details. the first l , prize was offered in november, , for a flight by aeroplane from london to manchester in twenty-four hours, with not more than two stoppages en route. in two competitors entered the lists for the flight; one, an englishman, mr. claude grahame-white; the other, a frenchman, m. paulhan. mr. grahame-white made the first attempt, and he flew remarkably well too, but he was forced to descend at lichfield--about miles on the journey--owing to the high and gusty winds which prevailed in the trent valley. the plucky pilot intended to continue the flight early the next morning, but during the night his biplane was blown over in a gale while it stood in a field, and it was so badly damaged that the machine had to be sent back to london to be repaired. this took so long that his french rival, m. paulhan, was able to complete his plans and start from hendon, on th april. so rapidly had paulhan's machine been transported from dover, and "assembled" at hendon, that mr. white, whose biplane was standing ready at wormwood scrubbs, was taken by surprise when he heard that his rival had started on the journey and "stolen a march on him", so to speak. nothing daunted, however, the plucky british aviator had his machine brought out, and he went in pursuit of paulhan late in the afternoon. when darkness set in mr. white had reached roade, but the french pilot was several miles ahead. now came one of the most thrilling feats in the history of aviation. mr. white knew that his only chance of catching paulhan was to make a flight in the darkness, and though this was extremely hazardous he arose from a small field in the early morning, some hours before daybreak arrived, and flew to the north. his friends had planned ingenious devices to guide him on his way: thus it was proposed to send fast motor-cars, bearing very powerful lights, along the route, and huge flares were lighted on the railway; but the airman kept to his course chiefly by the help of the lights from the railway stations. over hill and valley, forest and meadow, sleeping town and slumbering village, the airman flew, and when dawn arrived he had nearly overhauled his rival, who, in complete ignorance of mr. white's daring pursuit, had not yet started. but now came another piece of very bad luck for the british aviator. at daybreak a strong wind arose, and mr. white's machine was tossed about like a mere play-ball, so that he was compelled to land. paulhan, however, who was a pilot with far more experience, was able to overcome the treacherous air gusts, and he flew on to manchester, arriving there in the early morning. undoubtedly the better pilot won, and he had a truly magnificent reception in manchester and london, and on his return to france. but this historic contest laid the foundation of mr. grahame-white's great reputation as an aviator, and, as we all know, his fame has since become world-wide. chapter xxxiii. three historic flights (cont.) about a month after paulhan had won the "london to manchester" race, the world of aviation, and most of the general public too, were astonished to read the announcement of another enormous prize. this time a much harder task was set, for the conditions of the contest stated that a circuit of britain had to be made, covering a distance of about miles in one week, with eleven compulsory stops at fixed controls. this prize was offered on nd may, , and in the following year seventeen competitors entered the lists. it says much for the progress of aviation at this time, when we read that, only a year before, it was difficult to find but two pilots to compete in the much easier race described in the last chapter. much of this progress was undoubtedly due to the immense enthusiasm aroused by the success of paulhan in the "london to manchester" race. we will not describe fully the second race, because, though it was of immense importance at the time, it has long since become a mere episode. rarely has britain been in such great excitement as during that week in july, . engine troubles, breakdowns, and other causes soon reduced the seventeen competitors to two only: lieutenant conneau, of the french navy-who flew under the name of m. beaumont--and m. vedrines. neck to neck they flew--if we may be allowed this horse-racing expression--over all sorts of country, which was quite unknown to them. victory ultimately rested with lieutenant conneau, who, on th july, , passed the winning-post at brooklands after having completed the course in the magnificent time of twenty-two hours, twenty-eight minutes, averaging about miles an hour for the whole journey. m. vedrines, though defeated, made a most plucky fight. conneau's success was due largely to his ability to keep to the course--on two or three occasions vedrines lost his way--and doubtless his naval training in map-reading and observation gave him the advantage over his rival. the third historic flight was made by mr. harry hawker, in august, . this was an attempt to win a prize of l offered by the proprietors of the daily mail for a flight round the british coasts. the route was from cowes, in the isle of wight, along the southern and eastern coasts to aberdeen and cromarty, thence through the caledonian canal to oban, then on to dublin, thence to falmouth, and along the south coast to southampton water. two important conditions of the contest were that the flight was to be made in an all-british aeroplane, fitted with a british engine. hitherto our aeroplane constructors and engine companies were behind their rivals across the channel in the building of air-craft and aerial engines, and this country freely acknowledged the merits and enterprise of french aviators. though in the european war it was afterwards proved that the british airman and constructor were the equals if not the superiors of any in the world, at the date of this contest they were behind in many respects. as these conditions precluded the use of the famous gnome engine, which had won so many contests, and indeed the employment of any engine made abroad, the competitors were reduced to two aviation firms; and as one or these ultimately withdrew from the contest the sopwith aviation company of kingston-on-thames and brooklands entered a machine. mr. t. sopwith chose for his pilot a young australian airman, mr. harry hawker. this skilful airman came with three other australians to this country to seek his fortune about three years before. he was passionately devoted to mechanics, and, though he had had no opportunity of flying in his native country, he had been intensely interested in the progress of aviation in france and britain, and the four friends set out on their long journey to seek work in aeroplane factories. all four succeeded, but by far the most successful was harry hawker. early in mr. sopwith was looking out for a pilot, and he engaged hawker, whom he had seen during some good flying at brooklands. in a month or two he was engaged in record breaking, and in june, , he tried to set up a new british height record. in his first attempt he rose to , feet; but as the carburettor of the engine froze, and as the pilot himself was in grave danger of frost-bite, he descended. about a fortnight later he rose , feet above sea-level, and shortly afterwards he performed an even more difficult test, by climbing with three passengers to an altitude of feet. with such achievements to his name it was not in the least surprising that mr. sopwith's choice of a pilot for the water-plane race rested on hawker. his first attempt was made on th august, when he flew from southampton water to yarmouth--a distance of about miles--in minutes. the writer, who was spending a holiday at lowestoft, watched mr. hawker go by, and his machine was plainly visible to an enormous crowd which had lined the beach. to everyone's regret the pilot was affected with a slight sunstroke when he reached yarmouth, and another australian airman, mr. sidney pickles, was summoned to take his place. this was quite within the rules of the contest, the object of which was to test the merits of a british machine and engine rather than the endurance and skill of a particular pilot. during the night a strong wind arose, and next morning, when mr. pickles attempted to resume the flight, the sea was too rough for a start to be made, and the water-plane was beached at gorleston. mr. hawker quickly recovered from his indisposition, and on monday, th august, he, with a mechanic as passenger, left cowes about five o'clock in the morning in his second attempt to make a circuit of britain. the first control was at ramsgate, and here he had to descend in order to fulfil the conditions of the contest. ramsgate was left at . , and yarmouth, the next control, was reached at . . so far the engine, built by mr. green, had worked perfectly. about an hour was spent at yarmouth, and then the machine was en route to scarborough. haze compelled the pilot to keep close in to the coast, so that he should not miss the way, and a choppy breeze some what retarded the progress of the machine along the east coast. about . the pilot brought his machine to earth, or rather to water, at scarborough, where he stayed for nearly two hours. mr. hawker's intention was to reach aberdeen, if possible, before nightfall, but at seaham he had to descend for water, as the engine was becoming uncomfortably hot, and the radiator supply of water was rapidly diminishing. this lost much valuable time, as over an hour was spent here, and it had begun to grow dark before the journey was recommenced. about an hour after resuming his journey he decided to plane down at the fishing village of beadwell, some miles south of berwick. at . on tuesday morning the pilot was on his way to aberdeen, but he had to descend and stay at montrose for about half an hour, and aberdeen was reached about a.m. his scottish admirers, consisting of quite , people at aberdeen alone, gave him a most hearty welcome, and sped him on his way about noon. some two hours later cromarty was reached. now commenced the most difficult part of the course. the caledonian canal runs among lofty mountains, and the numerous air-eddies and swift air-streams rushing through the mountain passes tossed the frail craft to and fro, and at times threatened to wreck it altogether. on some occasions the aeroplane was tossed up over feet at one blow; at other times it was driven sideways almost on to the hills. from cromarty to oban the journey was only about miles, but it took nearly three hours to fly between these places. this slow progress seriously jeopardized the pilot's chances of completing the course in the allotted time, for it was his intention to make the coast of ireland by nightfall. but as it was late when oban was reached he decided to spend the night there. early the following morning he left for dublin, miles away. soon a float was found to be waterlogged and much valuable time was, spent in bailing it dry. then a descent had to be made at kiells, in argyllshire, because a valve had gone wrong. another landing was made at larne, to take aboard petrol. as soon as the petrol tanks were filled and the machine had been overhauled the pilot got on his way for dublin. for over two hours he flew steadily down the irish coast, and then occurred one of those slight accidents, quite insignificant in themselves, but terribly disastrous in their results. mr. hawker's boots were rubber soled and his foot slipped off the rudder bar, so that the machine got out of control and fell into the sea at lough shinny, about miles north of dublin. at the time of the accident the pilot was about feet above the water, which in this part of the lough is very shallow. the machine was completely wrecked, and mr. hawker's mechanic was badly cut about the head and neck, besides having his arm broken. mr. hawker himself escaped injury. all britons deeply sympathized with his misfortune, and much enthusiasm, was aroused when the proprietors of the daily mail presented the skilful and courageous pilot with a cheque for l as a consolation gift. in a later chapter some account will be given of the tremendous development of the aeroplane during four years of war. but it is fitting that to the three historic flights detailed above there should be added the sensational exploits of the marchese giulio laureati in . this intrepid italian airman made a non-stop journey from turin to naples and back, a distance of miles. a month later he flew from turin to hounslow, a distance of miles, in hours minutes. his machine was presented to the british air board by the italian government. chapter xxxiv. the hydroplane and air-boat one of the most recent developments in aviation is the hydroplane, or water-plane as it is most commonly called. a hydroplane is an aeroplane fitted with floats instead of wheels, so that it will rise from, or alight upon, the surface of the water. often water-planes have their floats removed and wheels affixed to the chassis, so that they may be used over land. from this you may think that the construction of a water-plane is quite a simple task; but such is not the case. the fitting of floats to an aeroplane has called for great skill on the part of the constructor, and many difficulties have had to be overcome. those of you who have seen an acroplane rise from the ground know that the machine runs very quickly over the earth at a rapidly-increasing speed, until sufficient momentum is obtained for the machine to lift itself into the air. in the case of the water-plane the pilot has to glide or "taxi" by means of a float or floats over the waves until the machine acquires flying speed. now the land resistance to the rubber-tired wheels is very small when compared with the water resistance to the floats, and the faster the craft goes the greater is the resistance. the great problem which the constructor has had to solve is to build a machine fitted with floats which will leave the water easily, which will preserve the lateral balance of the machine, and which will offer the minimum resistance in the air. a short flat-bottomed float, such as that known as the fabre, is good at getting off from smooth water, but is frequently damaged when the sea is rough. a long and narrow float is preferable for rough water, as it is able to cut through the waves; but comparatively little "lift" is obtained from it. some designers have provided their water-planes with two floats; others advocate a single float. the former makes the machine more stable when at rest on the water, but a great rawback is that the two-float machine is affected by waves more than a machine fitted with a single float; for one float may be on the crest of a wave and the other in the dip. this is not the case with the single-float water-plane, but on the other hand this type is less stable than the other when at rest. sometimes the floats become waterlogged, and so add considerably to the weight of the machine. thus in mr. hawker's flight round britain, the pilot and his passenger had to pump about ten gallons of water out of one of the floats before the machine could rise properly. floats are usually made with watertight compartments, and are composed of several thin layers of wood, riveted to a wooden framework. there is another technical question to be considered in the fixing of the floats, namely, the fore-and-aft balance of the machine in the air. the propeller of a water-plane has to be set higher than that of a land aeroplane, so that it may not come into contact with the waves. this tends to tip the craft forwards, and thus make the nose of the float dig in the water. to overcome this the float is set well forward of the centre of gravity, and though this counteracts the thrust when the craft "taxies" along the waves, it endangers its fore-and-aft stability when aloft. chapter xxxv. a famous british inventor of the water-plane though harry hawker made such a brilliant and gallant attempt to win the l prize, we must not forget that great credit is due to mr. sopwith, who designed the water-plane, and to mr. green, the inventor of the engine which made such a flight possible, and enabled the pilot to achieve a feat never before approached in any part of the world. the life-story of mr. "tommy" sopwith is almost a romance. as a lad he was intensely interested in mechanics, and we can imagine him constructing all manner of models, and enquiring the why and the wherefore of every mechanical toy with which he came into contact. at the early age of twenty-one he commenced a motor business, but about this time engineers and mechanics all over the country were becoming greatly interested in the practical possibilities of aviation. mr. sopwith decided to learn to fly, and in , after continued practice in a howard wright biplane, he had become a proficient pilot. so rapid was his progress that by the end of the year he had won the magnificent prize of l generously offered by baron de forest for the longest flight made by an all-british machine from england to the continent. in this flight he covered miles, from eastchurch, isle of sheppey, to the belgian frontier, in three and a half hours. if mr. sopwith had been in any doubt as to the wisdom of changing his business this remarkable achievement alone must have assured him that his future career lay in aviation. in he was graciously received by king george v at windsor castle, after having flown from brooklands and alighted on the east terrace of the famous castle. in the same year he visited america, and astonished even that go-ahead country with some skilful flying feats. to show the practical possibilities of the aeroplane he overtook the liner olympic, after she had left new york harbour on her homeward voyage, and dropped aboard a parcel addressed to a passenger. on his return to england he competed in the first aerial derby, the course being a circuit of london, representing a distance of miles. in this race he made a magnificent flight in a -horse-power bleriot monoplane, and came in some fifteen minutes before mr. hamel, the second pilot home. so popular was his victory that mr. grahame-white and several other officials of the london aerodrome carried him shoulder high from his machine. from this time we hear little of mr. sopwith as a pilot, for, like other famous airmen, such as louis bleriot, henri farman, and claude grahame-white, who jumped into fame by success in competition flying, he has retired with his laurels, and now devotes his efforts to the construction of machines. he bids fair to be equally successful as a constructor of air-craft as he formerly was as a pilot of flying machines. the sopwith machines are noted for their careful design and excellent workmanship. they are made by the sopwith aviation company, ltd., whose works are at kingston-on-thames. several water-planes have been built there for the admiralty, and land machines for the war office. late in mr. hawker left britain for australia to give demonstrations in the sopwith machine to the government of his native country. a fine list of records has for long stood to the credit of the sopwith biplane. among these are: british height record (pilot only) , feet " " " (pilot and passenger) , " " " " (pilot and passengers) , " world's " " (pilot and passengers) , " many of the sopwith machines used in the european war were built specially to withstand rough climate and heavy winds, and thus they were able to work in almost every kind of weather. it was this fact, coupled with the indomitable spirit of adventure inherent in men of british race, that made british airmen more than hold their own with both friend and foe in the war. chapter xxxvi. sea-planes for warfare "even in the region of the air, into which with characteristic british prudence we have moved with some tardiness, the navy need not fear comparison with the navy of any other country. the british sea-plane, although still in an empirical stage, like everything else in this sphere of warlike operations, has reached a point of progress in advance of anything attained elsewhere. "our hearts should go out to-night to those brilliant officers, commander samson and his band of brilliant pioneers, to whose endeavours, to whose enterprise, to whose devotion it is due that in an incredibly short space of time our naval aeroplane service has been raised to that primacy from which it must never be cast down. "it is not only in naval hydroplanes that we must have superiority. the enduring safety of this country will not be maintained by force of arms unless over the whole sphere of aerial development we are able to make ourselves the first nation. that will be a task of long duration. many difficulties have to be overcome. other countries have started sooner. the native genius of france, the indomitable perseverance of germany, have produced results which we at the present time cannot equal." so said mr. winston churchill at the lord mayor's banquet held in london in , and i have quoted his speech because such a statement, made at such a time, clearly shows the attitude of the british government toward this new arm of imperial defence. in bygone days the ocean was the great highway which united the various quarters of the empire, and, what was even more important from the standpoint of our country's defence, it was a formidable barrier between britain and her continental neighbours, "which serves it in the office of a wall or as a moat defensive to a house." but the ocean is no longer the only highway, for the age of aerial navigation has arrived, and, as one writer says: "every argument which impelled us of old to fight for the dominion of the sea has apparently been found valid in relation to the supremacy of the air." from some points of view this race between nations for naval and aerial supremacy may be unfortunate, but so long as the fighting instinct of man continues in the human race, so long as rivalry exists between nations, so long must we continue to strengthen our aerial position. britain is slow to start on any great venture where great change is effected. our practice is rather to wait and see what other nations are doing; and there is something to be said for this method of procedure. in the art of aviation, and in the construction of air-craft, our french, german, and american rivals were very efficient pacemakers in the aerial race for supremacy, and during the years - we were in grave peril of being left hopelessly behind. but in we realized the vital importance to the state of capturing the first place in aviation, particularly that of aerial supremacy at sea, for the navy is our first line of defence. so rapid has been our progress that we are quite the equal of our french and german rivals in the production of aeroplanes, and in sea-planes we are far ahead of them, both in design and construction, and the war has proved that we are ahead in the art of flight. the naval air service before the war had been establishing a chain of air stations round the coast. these stations are at calshot, on southampton water, the isle of grain, off sheerness, leven, on the firth of forth, cromarty, yarmouth, blythe, and cleethorpes. but what is even more important is the fact that the government is encouraging sea-plane constructors to go ahead as fast as they can in the production of efficient machines. messrs. short brothers, the sopwith aviation company, and messrs. roe are building high-class machines for sea work which can beat anything turned out abroad. our newest naval water-planes are fitted with british-built wireless apparatus of great range of action, and messrs. short brothers are at the present time constructing for the admiralty, at their works in the isle of sheppey, a fleet of fighting water-planes capable of engaging and destroying the biggest dirigible air-ships. in aeroplanes took a very prominent part in our naval manoeuvres, and the cry of the battleship captains was: "give us water-planes. give us them of great size and power, large enough to carry a gun and gun crew, and capable of taking twelve-hour cruises at a speed much greater than that of the fastest dirigible air-ship, and we shall be on the highroad to aerial supremacy at sea." the admiralty, acting on this advice, at once began to co-operate with the leading firms of aeroplane constructors, and at a great rate machines of all sizes and designs have been turned out. there were light single-seater water-planes able to maintain a speed of over a mile a minute; there were also larger machines for long-distance flying which could carry two passengers. the machines were so designed that their wings could be folded back along their bodies, and their wires, struts, and so on packed into the main parts of the craft, so that they were almost as compact as the body of a bird at rest on its perch, and they took up comparatively little space on board ship. a brilliantly executed raid was carried out on cuxhaven, an important german naval base, by seven british water-planes, on christmas day, . the water-planes were escorted across the north sea by a light cruiser and destroyer force, together with submarines. they left the war-ships in the vicinity of heligoland and flew over cuxhaven, discharging bombs on points of military significance, and apparently doing considerable damage to the docks and shipping. the british ships remained off the coast for three hours in order to pick up the returning airmen, and during this time they were attacked by dirigibles and submarines, without, however, suffering damage. six of the sea-planes returned safely to the ships, but one was wrecked in heligoland bight. but the present efficient sea-plane is a development of the war. in the early days many of the raids of the "naval wing" were carried out in land-going aeroplanes. now the r.n.a.s., which came into being as a separate service in july, , possess two main types of flying machine, the flying boat and the twin float, both types being able to rise from and alight upon the sea, just as an aeroplane can leave and return to the land. many brilliant raids stand to the credit of the r.n.a.s. the docks at antwerp, submarine bases at ostend, and all germany's fortified posts on the belgian coast, have seldom been free from their attentions. and when, under the stress of public outcry, the government at last gave its consent to a measure of "reprisals" it was the r.n.a.s. which opened the campaign with a raid upon the german town of mannheim. as the war continued the duties of the naval pilot increased. he played a great part in the ceaseless hunt for submarines. you must often have noticed how easily fish can be seen from a bridge which are quite invisible from the banks of the river. on this principle the submarine can be "spotted" by air-craft, and not until the long silence upon naval affairs is broken, at the end of the war, shall we know to what extent we are indebted to naval airmen for that long list of submarines which, in the words of the german reports, "failed to return" to their bases. in addition to the "blimps" of which mention has been made, the royal naval air service are in charge of air-ships known as the coast patrol type, which work farther out to sea, locating minefields and acting as scouts for the great fleet of patrol vessels. the service has gathered laurels in all parts of the globe, its achievements ranging from an aerial food service into beleaguered kut to the discovery of the german cruiser konigsberg, cunningly camouflaged up an african creek. chapter xxxvii. the first man to fly in britain the honour of being the first man to fly in this country is claimed by mr. a. v. roe, head of the well-known firm a. v. roe & co., of manchester, and constructor of the highly-efficient avro machines. as a youth roe's great hobby was the construction of toy models of various forms of machinery, and later on he achieved considerable success in the production of aeroplane models. all manner of novelties were the outcome of his fertile brain, and as it has been truly remarked, "his novelties have the peculiarity, not granted to most pioneers, of being in one respect or another ahead of his contemporaries." in addition, he studied the flight of birds. in the early days of aviation mr. roe was a firm believer in the triplane form of machine, and his first experiments in flight were made with a triplane equipped with an engine which developed only horse-power. later on, he turned his attention to the biplane, and with this craft he has been highly successful. the avro biplane, produced in , was one of the very best machines which appeared in that eventful year. the daily telegraph, when relating its performances, said: "the spectators at hendon were given a remarkable demonstration of the wonderful qualities of this fine avro biplane, whose splendid performances stamped it as one of the finest aeroplanes ever designed, if not indeed the finest of all". this craft is fitted with an -horse-power gnome engine, and is probably the fastest passenger-carrying biplane of its type in the world. its total weight, with engine, fuel for three hours, and a passenger, is pounds, and it has a main-plane surface of square feet. not only can the biplane maintain such great speed, but, what is of great importance for observation purposes, it can fly at the slow rate of miles per hour. we have previously remarked that a machine is kept up in the air by the speed it attains; if its normal flying speed be much reduced the machine drops to earth unless the rate of flying is accelerated by diving, or other means. what harry hawker is to mr. sopwith so is f. p. raynham to mr. roe. this skilful pilot learned to fly at brooklands, and during the last year or two he has been continuously engaged in testing avro machines, and passing them through the army reception trials. in the "aerial derby" of mr. raynham piloted an -horse-power avro biplane, and came in fourth. chapter xxxviii. the royal flying corps and royal naval air service the year was marked by the institution of the royal flying corps. the new corps, which was so soon to make its mark in the greatest of all wars, consisted of naval and military "wings". in those early days the head-quarters of the corps were at eastchurch, and there both naval and military officers were trained in aviation. in an arm of such rapid--almost miraculous--development as service flying to go back a period of six years is almost to take a plunge into ancient history. designs, engines, guns, fittings, signals of those days are now almost archaic. the british engine of reliable make had not yet been evolved, and the aeroplane generally was a conglomerate affair made up of parts assembled from various parts of the continent. the present-day sea-plane was yet to come, and naval pilots shared the land-going aeroplanes of their military brethren. in the days when bleriot provided a world sensation by flying across the channel the new science was kept alive mainly by the private enterprise of newspapers and aeroplane manufacturers. the official attitude, as is so often the case in the history of inventions, was as frigid as could be. the government looked on with a cold and critical eye, and could not be touched either in heart or in pocket. but with the institution of the royal flying corps the official heart began to warm slightly, and certain tests were laid down for those manufacturers who aspired to sell their machines to the new arm of the service. these tests, providing for fuel capacity up to . miles, speeds up to miles an hour, and heights up to feet, would now be regarded as very elementary affairs. "looping the loop" was still a dangerous trick for the exhibiting airman and not an evolution; while the "nose-dive" was an uncalculated entry into the next world. the first important stage in the history of the new arm was reached in july, , when the wing system was abolished, and the royal naval air service became a separate unit of the imperial forces. the first public appearance of the sailor airmen was at a proposed review of the fleet by the king at a test mobilization. the king was unable to attend, but the naval pilots carried out their part of the programme very creditably considering the polyglot nature of their sea-planes. a few weeks later and the country was at war. there can be no doubt that the great war has had an enormous forcing influence upon the science of aviation. in times of peace the old game of private enterprise and official neglect would possibly have been carried on in well-marked stages. but with the terrific incentive of victory before them, all governments fostered the growth of the new arm by all the means in their power. it became a race between allied and enemy countries as to who first should attain the mastery of the air. the british nation, as usual, started well behind in the race, and their handicap would have been increased to a dangerous extent had germany not been obsessed by the possibilities of the air-ship as opposed to the aeroplane. fortunately for us the zeppelin, as has been described in an earlier chapter, failed to bring about the destruction anticipated by its inventor, and so we gained breathing space for catching up the enemy in the building and equipment of aeroplanes and the training of pilots and observers. war has set up its usual screens, and the writer is only permitted a very vague and impressionistic picture of the work of the r.f.c. and r.n.a.s. numerical details and localities must be rigorously suppressed. descriptions of the work of the flying service must be almost as bald as those laconic reports sent in by naval and military airmen to head-quarters. but there is such an accomplishment as reading between the lines. the flying men fall naturally into two classes--pilots and observers. the latter, of course, act as aerial gunners. the pilots have to pass through three, and observers two, successive courses of training in aviation. instruction is very detailed and thorough as befits a career which, in addition to embracing the endless problems of flight, demands knowledge of wireless telegraphy, photography, and machine gunnery. many of the officers are drafted into the royal flying corps from other branches of the service, but there are also large numbers of civilians who take up the career. in their case they are first trained as cadets, and, after qualifying for commissions, start their training in aviation at one of the many schools which have now sprung up in all parts of the country. when the actual flying men are counted in thousands some idea may be gained of the great organization required for the corps--the schools and flying grounds, the training and activities of the mechanics, the workshops and repair shops, the storage of spare parts, the motor transport, &c. as in other departments of the service, women have come forward and are doing excellent and most responsible work, especially in the motor-transport section. a very striking feature of the corps is the extreme youth of the members, many of the most daring fighters in the air being mere boys of twenty. the corps has the very pick of the youth and daring and enterprise of the country. in the days of the old army there existed certain unwritten laws of precedence as between various branches of the service. if such customs still prevail it is certain that the very newest arm would take pride of place. the flying man has recaptured some of the glamour and romance which encircled the knight-errant of old. he breathes the very atmosphere of dangerous adventure. life for him is a series of thrills, any one of which would be sufficient to last the ordinary humdrum citizen for a lifetime. small wonder that the flying man has captured the interest and affection of the people, and all eyes follow these trim, smart, desperadoes of the air in their passage through our cities. as regards the work of the flying man the danger curve seems to be changing. on the one hand the training is much more severe and exacting than formerly was the case, and so carries a greater element of danger. on the other hand on the battle-front fighting information has in great measure taken the place of the system of men going up "on their own". they are perhaps not so liable to meet with a numerical superiority on the part of enemy machines, which spelt for them almost certain destruction. for a long time the policy of silence and secrecy which screened "the front" from popular gaze kept us in ignorance of the achievements of our airmen. but finally the voice of the people prevailed in their demand for more enlightenment. names of regiments began to be mentioned in connection with particular successes. and in the same way the heroes of the r.f.c. and r.n.a.s. were allowed to reap some of the laurels they deserved. it began to be recognized that publication of the name of an airman who had destroyed a zeppelin, for instance, did not constitute any vital information to the enemy. in a recent raid upon london the names of the two airmen, captain g. h. hackwill, r.f.c., and lieutenant c. c. banks, r.f.c., who destroyed a gotha, were given out in the house of commons and saluted with cheers. in the old days the secretist party would have regarded this publication as a policy which led the nation in the direct line of "losing the war". in the annals of the flying service, where dare-devilry is taken as a matter of course and hairbreadth escapes from death are part of the daily routine, it is difficult to select adventures for special mention; but the following episodes will give a general idea of the work of the airman in war. the great feat of sub-lieutenant r. a. j. warneford, r.n.a.s., who single-handed attacked and destroyed a zeppelin, has already been referred to in chapter xiii. lieutenant warneford was the second on the list of airmen who won the coveted cross, the first recipient being second-lieutenant barnard rhodes-moorhouse, for a daring and successful bomb-dropping raid upon courtrai in april, . as has happened in so many cases, the award to lieutenant rhodes-moorhouse was a posthumous one, the gallant airman having been mortally wounded during the raid, in spite of which he managed by flying low to reach his destination and make his report. a writer of adventure stories for boys would be hard put to it to invent any situation more thrilling than that in which squadron-commander richard bell davies, d.s.o., r.n., and flight sub-lieutenant gilbert formby smylie, r.n., found themselves while carrying out an air attack upon ferrijik junction. smylie's machine was subjected to such heavy fire that it was disabled, and the airman was compelled to plane down after releasing all his bombs but one, which failed to explode. the moment he alighted he set fire to his machine. presently smylie saw his companion about to descend quite close to the burning machine. there was infinite danger from the bomb. it was a question of seconds merely before it must explode. so smylie rushed over to the machine, took hasty aim with his revolver, and exploded the bomb, just before the commander came within the danger zone. meanwhile the enemy had commenced to gather round the two airmen, whereupon squadron-commander davies coolly took up the lieutenant on his machine and flew away with him in safety back to their lines. davies, who had already won the d.s.o., was given the v.c., while his companion in this amazing adventure was granted the distinguished service cross. the unexpectedness, to use no stronger term, of life in the r.f.c. in war-time is well exemplified by the adventure which befell major rees. the pilot of a "fighter", he saw what he took to be a party of air machines returning from a bombing expedition. proceeding to join them in the character of escort, major rees made the unpleasant discovery that he was just about to join a little party of ten enemy machines. but so far from being dismayed, the plucky airman actually gave battle to the whole ten. one he quickly drove "down and out", as the soldiers say. attacked by five others, he damaged two of them and dispersed the remainder. not content with this, he gave chase to two more, and only broke off the engagement when he had received a wound in the thigh. then he flew home to make the usual laconic report. no record of heroism in the air could be complete without mention of captain ball, who has already figured in these pages. when awarded the v.c. captain ball was already the holder of the following honours: d.s.o., m.c., cross of a chevalier of the legion of honour, and the russian order of st. george. this heroic boy of twenty was a giant among a company of giants. here follows the official account which accompanied his award:-- "lieutenant (temporary captain) albert ball, d.s.o., m.c., late notts and derby regiment, and r.f.c. "for most conspicuous and consistent bravery from april to may , , during which period captain ball took part in twenty-six combats in the air and destroyed eleven hostile aeroplanes, drove down two out of control, and forced several others to land. "in these combats captain ball, flying alone, on one occasion fought six hostile machines, twice he fought five, and once four. "while leading two other british aeroplanes he attacked an enemy formation of eight. on each of these occasions he brought down at least one enemy. "several times his aeroplane was badly damaged, once so severely that but for the most delicate handling his machine would have collapsed, as nearly all the control wires had been shot away. on returning with a damaged machine, he had always to be restrained from immediately going out on another. "in all captain ball has destroyed forty-three german aeroplanes and one balloon, and has always displayed most exceptional courage, determination, and skill." so great was captain ball's skill as a fighter in the air that for a time he was sent back to england to train new pilots in the schools. but the need for his services at the front was even greater, and it jumped with his desires, for the whole tone of his letters breathes the joy he found in the excitements of flying and fighting. he declares he is having a "topping time", and exults in boyish fashion at a coming presentation to sir douglas haig. it is not too much to say that the whole empire mourned when captain ball finally met his death in the air near la bassee in may, . chapter xxxix. aeroplanes in the great war "aeroplanes and airships would have given us an enormous advantage against the boers. the difficulty of laying ambushes and traps for isolated columns--a practice at which the enemy were peculiarly adept--would have been very much greater. some at least of the regrettable reverses which marked the early stages of the campaign could in all probability have been avoided." so wrote lord roberts, our veteran field-marshal, in describing the progress of the army during recent years. the great soldier was a man who always looked ahead. after his great and strenuous career, instead of taking the rest which he had so thoroughly earned, he spent laborious days travelling up and down the country, warning the people of danger ahead; exhorting them to learn to drill and to shoot; thus attempting to lay the foundation of a great civic army. but his words, alas! fell upon deaf ears--with results so tragic as hardly to bear dwelling upon. but even "bobs", seer and true prophet as he was, could hardly have foreseen the swift and dramatic development of war in the air. he had not long been laid to rest when aeroplanes began to be talked about, and, what is more important, to be built, not in hundreds but in thousands. at the time of writing, when we are well into the fourth year of the war, it seems almost impossible for the mind to go back to the old standards, and to take in the statement that the number of machines which accompanied the original expeditionary force to france was eighty! even if one were not entirely ignorant of the number and disposition of the aerial fighting forces over the world-wide battle-ground, the defence of the realm act would prevent us from making public the information. but when, more than a year ago, america entered the war, and talked of building , aeroplanes, no one gasped. for even in those days one thought of aeroplanes not in hundreds but in tens of thousands. before proceeding to give a few details of the most recent work of the royal flying corps and royal naval air service, mention must be made of the armament of the aeroplane. in the first place, it should be stated that the war has gradually evolved three distinct types of flying machine: ( ) the "general-purposes" aeroplane; ( ) the giant bomb dropper; ( ) the small single-seater "fighter". as the description implies, the first machine fills a variety of roles, and the duties of its pilots grow more manifold as the war progresses. "spotting" for the artillery far behind the enemy's lines; "searching" for ammunition dumps, for new dispositions by the enemy of men, material, and guns; attacking a convoy or bodies of troops on the march; sprinkling new trenches with machine-gun fire, or having a go at an aerodrome--any wild form of aerial adventure might be included in the diary of the pilot of a "general-purposes" machine. it was in order to clear the air for these activities that the "fighter" came into being, and received its baptism of fire at the battle of the somme. at first the idea of a machine for fighting only, was ridiculed. even the germans, who, in a military sense, were awake and plotting when other nations were dozing in the sunshine of peace, did not think ahead and imagine the aerial duel between groups of aeroplanes armed with machine-guns. but soon the mastery of the air became of paramount importance, and so the fighter was evolved. nobly, too, did the men of all nations rise to these heroic and dangerous opportunities. the germans were the first to boast of the exploits of their fighting airmen, and to us in britain the names of immelmann and bolcke were known long before those of any of our own fighters. the former claimed not far short of a hundred victims before he was at last brought low in june, . his letters to his family were published soon after his death, and do not err on the side of modesty. on th august, , he writes: "there is not much doing here. ten minutes after bolcke and i go up, there is not an enemy airman to be seen. the english seem to have lost all pleasure in flying. they come over very, very seldom." when allowance has been made for german brag, these statements throw some light upon the standard of british flying at a comparatively early date in the war. certainly no german airman could have made any such complaint a year later. in the german airmen were given all the fighting they required and a bit over. certainly a very different picture is presented by the dismal letters which fritz sent home during the great ypres offensive of august, . in these letters he bewails the fact that one after another of his batteries is put out of action owing to the perfect "spotting" of the british airmen, and arrives at the sad conclusion that germany has lost her superiority in the air. an account has already been given of the skill and prowess of captain ball. on his own count--and he was not the type of man to exaggerate his prowess--he found he had destroyed fifty machines, although actually he got the credit for forty-one. this slight discrepancy may be explained by the scrupulous care which is taken to check the official returns. the air fighter, though morally certain of the destruction of a certain enemy aeroplane, has to bring independent witnesses to substantiate his claim, and when out "on his own" this is no easy matter. without this check, though occasionally it acts harshly towards the pilot, there might be a tendency to exaggerate enemy losses, owing to the difficulty of distinguishing between an aeroplane put out of action and one the pilot of which takes a sensational "nose dive" to get out of danger. one of the most striking illustrations of the growth of the aeroplane as a fighting force is afforded by the great increase in the heights at which they could scout, take photographs, and fight. in sir john french's dispatches mention is made of bomb-dropping from feet. in these days the aerial battleground has been extended to anything up to , feet. indeed, so brisk has been the duel between gun and aeroplane, that nowadays airmen have often to seek the other margin of safety, and can defy the anti-aircraft guns only by flying so low as just to escape the ground. the general armament of a "fighter" consists of a maxim firing through the propeller, and a lewis gun at the rear on a revolving gun-ring. it is pleasant to record that the allies kept well ahead of the enemy in their use of aerial photography. before a great offensive some thousands of photographs had to be taken of enemy dispositions by means of cameras built into the aeroplanes. plates were found to stand the rough usage better than films, and not for the first time in the history of mechanics the man beat the machine, a skilful operator being found superior to the ingenious automatic plate-fillers which had been devised. the counter-measure to this ruthless exposure of plans was camouflage. as if by magic-tents, huts, dumps, guns began, as it were, to sink into the scenery. the magicians were men skilled in the use of brush and paint-pot, and several leading figures in the world of art lent their services to the military authorities as directors of this campaign of concealment. in this connection it is interesting to note that both admiralty and war office took measures to record the pictorial side of the great war. special commissions were given to a notable band of artists working in their different "lines". an abiding record of the great struggle will be afforded by the black-and-white work of muirhead bone, james m'bey, and charles pears; the portraits, landscapes, and seascapes of sir john lavery, philip connard, norman wilkinson, and augustus john, who received his commission from the canadian government. chapter xl. the atmosphere and the barometer for the discovery of how to find the atmospheric pressure we are indebted to an italian named torricelli, a pupil of galileo, who carried out numerous experiments on the atmosphere toward the close of the sixteenth century. torricelli argued that, as air is a fluid, if it had weight it could be made to balance another fluid of known weight. in his experiments he found that if a glass tube about feet in length, open at one end only, and filled with mercury, were placed vertically with the open end submerged in a cup of mercury, some of the mercury in the tube descended into the cup, leaving a column of mercury about inches in height in the tube. from this it was deduced that the pressure of air on the surface of the mercury in the cup forced it up the tube to the height of inches, and this was so because the weight of a column of air from the cup to the top of the atmosphere was only equal to that of a column of mercury of the same base and inches high. torricelli's experiment can be easily repeated. take a glass tube about feet long, closed at one end and open at the other; fill it as full as possible with mercury. then close the open end with the thumb, and invert the tube in a basin of mercury so that the open end dips beneath the surface. the mercury in the tube will be found to fall a short distance, and if the height of the column from the surface of the mercury in the basin be measured you will find it will be about inches. as the tube is closed at the top there is no downward pressure of air at that point, and the space above the mercury in the tube is quite empty: it forms a vacuum. this vacuum is generally known as the torricellian vacuum, after the name of its discoverer. suppose, now, a hole be bored through the top of the tube above the column of mercury, the mercury will immediately fall in the tube until it stands at the same level as the mercury in the basin, because the upward pressure of air through the liquid in the basin would be counterbalanced by the downward pressure of the air at the top, and the mercury would fall by its own weight. a few years later professor boyle proposed to use the instrument to measure the height of mountains. he argued that, since the pressure of the atmosphere balanced a column of mercury inches high, it followed that if one could find the weight of the mercury column one would also find the weight of a column of air standing on a base of the same size, and stretching away indefinitely into space. it was found that a column of mercury in a tube having a sectional area of square inch, and a height of inches, weighed pounds; therefore the weight of the atmosphere, or air pressure, at sea-level is about pounds to the square inch. the ordinary mercury barometer is essentially a torricellian tube graduated so that the varying heights of the mercury column can be used as a measure of the varying atmospheric pressure due to change of weather or due to alteration of altitude. if we take a mercury barometer up a hill we will observe that the mercury falls. the weight of atmosphere being less as we ascend, the column of mercury supported becomes smaller. although the atmosphere has been proved to be over miles high, it has by no means the same density throughout. like all gases, air is subject to the law that the density increases directly as the pressure, and thus the densest and heaviest layers are those nearest the sea-level, because the air near the earth's surface has to support the pressure of all the air above it. as airmen rise into the highest portions of the atmosphere the height of the column of air above them decreases, and it follows that, having a shorter column of air to support, those portions are less dense than those lower down. so rare does the atmosphere become, when great altitudes are reached, that at a height of seven miles breathing is well-nigh impossible, and at far lower altitudes than this airmen have to be supported by inhalations of oxygen. one of the greatest altitudes was reached by two famous balloonists, messrs. coxwell and glaisher. they were over seven miles in the air when the latter fell unconscious, and the plucky aeronauts were only saved by mr. coxwell pulling the valve line with his teeth, as all his limbs were disabled. chapter xli. how an airman knows what height he reaches one of the first questions the visitor to an aerodrome, when watching the altitude tests, asks is: "how is it known that the airman has risen to a height of so many feet?" does he guess at the distance he is above the earth? if this were so, then it is very evident that there would be great difficulty in awarding a prize to a number of competitors each trying to ascend higher than his rivals. no; the pilot does not guess at his flying height, but he finds it by a height-recording instrument called the barograph. in the last chapter we saw how the ordinary mercurial barometer can be used to ascertain fairly accurately the height of mountains. but the airman does not take a mercurial barometer up with him. there is for his use another form of barometer much more suited to his purpose, namely, the barograph, which is really a development of the aneroid barometer. the aneroid barometer (gr. a, not; neros, moist) is so called because it requires neither mercury, glycerine, water, nor any other liquid in its construction. it consists essentially of a small, flat, metallic box made of elastic metal, and from which the air has been partially exhausted. in the interior there is an ingenious arrangement of springs and levers, which respond to atmospheric pressure, and the depression or elevation of the surface is registered by an index on the dial. as the pressure of the atmosphere increases, the sides of the box are squeezed in by the weight of the air, while with a decrease of pressure they are pressed out again by the springs. by means of a suitable adjustment the pointer on the dial responds to these movements. it is moved in one direction for increase of air pressure, and in the opposite for decreased pressure. the positions of the figures on the dial are originally obtained by numerous comparisons with a standard mercurial barometer, and the scale is graduated to correspond with the mercurial barometer. from the illustration here given you will notice the pointer and scale of the "a. g" aero-barograph, which is used by many of our leading airmen, and which, as we have said, is a development of the aneroid barometer. the need of a self-registering scale to a pilot who is competing in an altitude test, or who is trying to establish a height record, is self-evident. he need not interfere with the instrument in the slightest; it records and tells its own story. there is in use a pocket barograph which weighs only pound, and registers up to feet. it is claimed for the "a. g." barograph that it is the most precise instrument of its kind. its advantages are that it is quite portable--it measures only / inches in length, / inches in width, and / inches in depth, with a total weight of only pounds--and that it is exceptionally accurate and strong. some idea of the labour involved in its construction may be gathered from the fact that this small and insignificant-looking instrument, fitted in its aluminium case, costs over l . chapter xlii. how an airman finds his way in the early days of aviation we frequently heard of an aviator losing his way, and being compelled to descend some miles from his required destination. there are on record various instances where airmen have lost their way when flying over the sea, and have drifted so far from land that they have been drowned. one of the most notable of such disasters was that which occurred to mr. hamel in , when he was trying to cross the english channel. it is presumed that this unfortunate pilot lost his bearings in a fog, and that an accident to his machine, or a shortage of petrol, caused him to fall in the sea. there are several reasons why air pilots go out of their course, even though they are supplied with most efficient compasses. one cause of misdirection is the prevalence of a strong side wind. suppose, for example, an airman intended to fly from harwich to amsterdam. a glance at the map will show that the latter place is almost due east of harwich. we will assume that when the pilot leaves earth at harwich the wind is blowing to the east; that is, behind his back. now, however strong a wind may be, and in whatever direction it blows, it always appears to be blowing full in a pilot's face. of course this is due to the fact that the rush of the machine through the air "makes a wind", as we say. much the same sort of thing is experienced on a bicycle; when out cycling we very generally seem to have a "head" wind. suppose during his journey a very strong side wind sprang up over the north sea. the pilot would still keep steering his craft due east, and it must be remembered that when well out at sea there would be no familiar landmarks to guide him, so that he would have to rely solely on his compass. it is highly probable that he would not feel the change of wind at all, but it is even more probable that when land was ultimately reached he would be dozens of miles from his required landing-place. quite recently mr. alexander gross, the well-known maker of aviation instruments, who is even more famous for his excellent aviation maps, claims to have produced an anti-drift aero-compass, which has been specially designed for use on aeroplanes. the chief advantages of this compass are that the dial is absolutely steady; the needle is extremely sensitive and shows accurately the most minute change of course; the anti-drift arrangement checks the slightest deviation from the straight course; and it is fitted with a revolving sighting arrangement which is of great importance in the adjustment of the instrument. before the airman leaves earth he sets his compass to the course to be steered, and during the flight he has only to see that the two boldly-marked north points--on the dial and on the outer ring--coincide to know that he is keeping his course. the north points are luminous, so that they are clearly visible at night. it is quite possible that if some of our early aviators had carried such a highly-efficient compass as this, their lives might have been saved, for they would not have gone so far astray in their course. the anti-drift compass has been adopted by various governments, and it now forms part of the equipment of the austrian military aeroplane. when undertaking cross-country flights over strange land an airman finds his way by a specially-prepared map which is spread out before him in an aluminium map case. from the illustration here given of an aviator's map, you will see that it differs in many respects from the ordinary map. most british aviation maps are made and supplied by mr alexander gross, of the firm of "geographia", london. many airmen seem to find their way instinctively, so to speak, and some are much better in picking out landmarks, and recognizing the country generally, than others. this is the case even with pedestrians, who have the guidance of sign-posts, street names, and so on to assist them. however accurately some people are directed, they appear to have the greatest difficulty in finding their way, while others, more fortunate, remember prominent features on the route, and pick out their course as accurately as does a homing pigeon. large sheets of water form admirable "sign-posts" for an airman; thus at kempton park, one of the turning-points in the course followed in the "aerial derby", there are large reservoirs, which enable the airmen to follow the course at this point with the greatest ease. railway lines, forests, rivers and canals, large towns, prominent structures, such as gasholders, chimney-stalks, and so on, all assist an airman to find his way. chapter xliii. the first airman to fly upside down visitors to brooklands aerodrome on th september, , saw one of the greatest sensations in this or any other century, for on that date a daring french aviator, m. pegoud, performed the hazardous feat of flying upside down. before we describe the marvellous somersaults which pegoud made, two or three thousand feet above the earth, it would be well to see what was the practical use of it all. if this amazing airman had been performing some circus trick in the air simply for the sake of attracting large crowds of people to witness it, and therefore being the means of bringing great monetary gain both to him and his patrons, then this chapter would never have been written. indeed, such a risk to one's life, if there had been nothing to learn from it, would have been foolish. no; pegoud's thrilling performance must be looked at from an entirely different standpoint to such feats of daring as the placing of one's head in the jaws of a lion, the traversing of niagara falls by means of a tight-rope stretched across them, and other similar senseless acts, which are utterly useless to mankind. let us see what such a celebrated airman as mr. gustav hamel said of the pioneer of upside-down flying. "his looping the loop, his upside-down flights, his general acrobatic feats in the air are all of the utmost value to pilots throughout the world. we shall have proof of this, i am sure, in the near future. pegoud has shown us what it is possible to do with a modern machine. in his first attempt to fly upside down he courted death. like all pioneers, he was taking liberties with the unknown elements. no man before him had attempted the feat. it is true that men have been upside down in the air; but they were turned over by sudden gusts of wind, and in most cases were killed. pegoud is all the time rehearsing accidents and showing how easy it is for a pilot to recover equilibrium providing he remains perfectly calm and clear-headed. any one of his extraordinary positions might be brought about by adverse elements. it is quite conceivable that a sudden gust of wind might turn the machine completely over. hitherto any pilot in such circumstances would give himself up for lost. pegoud has taught us what to do in such a case.... his flights have given us all a new confidence. "in a gale the machine might be upset at many different angles. pegoud has shown us that it is easily possible to recover from such predicaments. he has dealt with nearly every kind of awkward position into which one might be driven in a gale of wind, or in a flight over mountains where air-currents prevail. "he has thus gained evidence which will be of the utmost value to present and future pilots, and prove a factor of signal importance in the preservation of life in the air." such words as these, coming from a man of mr. hamel's reputation as an aviator, clearly show us that m. pegoud has a life-saving mission for airmen throughout the world. let us stand, in imagination, with the enormous crowd of spectators who invaded the surrey aerodrome on th september, and the two following days, in . what an enormous crowd it was! a line of motor-cars bordered the track for half a mile, and many of the spectators were busy city men who had taken a hasty lunch and rushed off down to weybridge to see a little french airman risk his life in the air. thousands of foot passengers toiled along the dusty road from the paddock to the hangars, and thousands more, who did not care to pay the shilling entrance fee, stood closely packed on the high ground outside the aerodrome. biplanes and monoplanes came driving through the air from hendon, and airmen of world-wide fame, such as sopwith, hamel, verrier, and hucks, had gathered together as disciples of the great life-saving missionary. stern critics these! men who would ruthlessly expose any "faked" performance if need were! and where is the little airman while all this crowd is gathering? is he very excited? he has never before been in england. we wonder if his amazing coolness and admirable control over his nerves will desert him among strange surroundings. probably pegoud was the coolest man in all that vast crowd. he seemed to want to hide himself from public gaze. most of his time, was taken up in signing post-cards for people who had been fortunate enough to discover him in a little restaurant near which his shed was situated. at last his bleriot monoplane was wheeled out, and he was strapped, or harnessed, into his seat. "was the machine a 'freak' monoplane?" we wondered. we were soon assured that such was not the case. indeed, as pegoud himself says: "i have used a standard type of monoplane on purpose. almost every aeroplane, if it is properly balanced, has just as good a chance as mine, and i lay particular stress on the fact that there is nothing extraordinary about my machine, so that no one can say my achievements are in any way faked." during the preliminary operations his patron, m. bleriot, stood beside the machine, and chatted affably with the aviator. at last the signal was given for his ascent, and in a few moments pegoud was climbing with the nose of his machine tilted high in the air. for about a quarter of an hour he flew round in ever-widening circles, rising very quietly and steadily until he had reached an altitude of about feet. a deep silence seemed to have settled on the vast crowd nearly a mile below, and the musical droning of his engine could be plainly heard. then his movements began to be eccentric. first, he gave a wonderful exhibition of banking at right angles. then, after about ten minutes, he shut off his engine, pitched downwards and gracefully righted himself again. at last the amazing feat began. his left wing was raised, his right wing dipped, and the nose of the machine dived steeply, and turned right round with the airman hanging head downwards, and the wheels of the monoplane uppermost. in this way he travelled for about a hundred yards, and then slowly righted the machine, until it assumed its normal position, with the engine again running. twice more the performance was repeated, so that he travelled from one side of the aerodrome to the other--a distance of about a mile and a half. next he descended from feet to about feet in four gigantic loops, and, as one writer said: "he was doing exactly what the clown in the pantomime does when he climbs to the top of a staircase and rolls deliberately over and over until he reaches the ground. but this funny man stopped before he reached the ground, and took his last flight as gracefully as a columbine with outspread skirts." time after time pegoud made a series of s-shaped dives, somersaults, and spiral descents, until, after an exhibition which thrilled quite , people, he planed gently to earth. hitherto pegoud's somersaults have been made by turning over from front to back, but the daring aviator, and others who followed him, afterwards turned over from right to left or from left to right. pegoud claimed to have demonstrated that the aeroplane is uncapsizeable, and that if a parachute be attached to the fuselage, which is the equivalent of a life boat on board a ship, then every pilot should feel as safe in a heavier-than-air machine as in a motor-car. chapter xliv. the first englishman to fly upside down after m. pegoud's exhibition of upside-down flying in this country it was only to be expected that british aviators would emulate his daring feat. indeed, on the same day that the little frenchman was turning somersaults in the air at brooklands mr. hamel was asking m. bleriot for a machine similar to that used by pegoud, so that he might demonstrate to airmen the stability of the aeroplane in almost all conceivable positions. however, it was not the daring and skilful hamel who had the honour of first following in pegoud's footsteps, but another celebrated pilot, mr. hucks. mr. hucks was an interested spectator at brooklands when pegoud flew there in september, and he felt that, given similar conditions, there was no reason why he should not repeat pegoud's performance. he therefore talked the matter over with m. bleriot, and began practising for his great ordeal. his first feat was to hang upside-down in a chair supported by a beam in one of the sheds, so that he would gradually become accustomed to the novel position. for a time this was not at all easy. have you ever tried to stand on your hands with your feet upwards for any length of time? to realize the difficulty of being head downwards, just do this, and get someone to hold your legs. the blood will, of course, "rush to the head", as we say, and the congestion of the blood-vessels in this part of the body will make you feel extremely dizzy. such an occurrence would be fatal in an aeroplane nearly a mile high in the air at a time when one requires an especially clear brain to manipulate the various controls. but, strange to say, the airman gradually became used to the "heels-over-head" position, and, feeling sure of himself, he determined to start on his perilous undertaking. no one with the exception of m. bleriot and the mechanics were present at the buc aerodrome, near versailles, when mr. hucks had his monoplane brought out with the intention of looping the loop. he quickly rose to a height of feet, and then, slowly dipping the nose of his machine, turned right over. for fully half a minute he flew underneath the monoplane, and then gradually brought it round to the normal position. in the afternoon he continued his experiments, but this time at a height of nearly feet. at this altitude he was flying quite steadily, when suddenly he assumed a perpendicular position, and made a dive of about feet. the horrified spectators thought that the gallant aviator had lost control of his machine and was dashing straight to earth, but quickly he changed his direction and slowly planed upwards. then almost as suddenly he turned a complete somersault. righting the aeroplane, he rose in a succession of spiral flights to a height of between and feet, and then looped the loop twice in quick succession. on coming to earth m. bleriot heartily congratulated the brave englishman. mr. hucks admitted a little nervousness before looping the loop; but, as he remarked: "once i started to go round my nervousness vanished, and then i knew i was coming out on top. it is all a question of keeping control of your nerves, and pegoud deserved all the credit, for he was the first to risk his life in flying head downwards." mr. hucks intended to be the first englishman to fly upside down in england, but he was forestalled by one of our youngest airmen, mr. george lee temple. on account of his youth--mr. temple was only twenty-one at the time when he first flew upside-down--he was known as the "baby airman", but there was probably no more plucky airman in the world. there were special difficulties which mr. temple had to overcome that did not exist in the experiments of m. pegoud or mr. hucks. to start with, his machine--a -horse-power bleriot monoplane--was said by the makers to be unsuitable for the performance. then he could get no assistance from the big aeroplane firms, who sought to dissuade him from his hazardous undertaking. experienced aviators wisely shook their heads and told the "baby airman" that he should have more practice before he took such a risk. but notwithstanding this lack of encouragement he practised hard for a few days by hanging in an inverted position. meanwhile his mechanics were working night and day in strengthening the wings of the monoplane, and fitting it with a slightly larger elevator. on th november, , he decided to "try his luck" at the london aerodrome. he was harnessed into his seat, and, bidding his friends farewell, with the words "wish me luck", he went aloft. for nearly half an hour he climbed upward, and swooped over the aerodrome in wide circles, while his friends far below were watching every action of his machine. suddenly an alarming incident occurred. when about a mile high in the air the machine tipped downwards and rushed towards earth at terrific speed. then the tail of the machine came up, and the "baby airman" was hanging head downwards. but at this point the group of airmen standing in the aerodrome were filled with alarm, for it was quite evident to their experienced eyes that the monoplane was not under proper control. indeed, it was actually side-slipping, and a terrible disaster appeared imminent. for hundreds of feet the young pilot, still hanging head downwards, was crashing to earth, but when down to about feet from the ground the machine gradually came round, and mr. temple descended safely to earth. the airman afterwards told his friends that for several seconds he could not get the machine to answer the controls, and for a time he was falling at a speed of miles an hour. in ordinary circumstances he thought that a dive of feet after the upside-down stretch should get him the right way up, but it really took him nearly feet. fortunately, however, he commenced the dive at a great altitude, and so the distance side-slipped did not much matter. it is sad to relate that mr. temple lost his life in january, , while flying at hendon in a treacherous wind. the actual cause of the accident was never clearly understood. he had not fully recovered from an attack of influenza, and it was thought that he fainted and fell over the control lever while descending near one of the pylons, when the machine "turned turtle", and the pilot's neck was broken. chapter xlv. accidents and their cause "another airman killed!" "there'll soon be none of those flying fellows left!" "far too risky a game!" "ought to be stopped by law!" how many times have we heard these, and similar remarks, when the newspapers relate the account of some fatality in the air! people have come to think that flying is a terribly risky occupation, and that if one wishes to put an end to one's life one has only to go up in a flying machine. for the last twenty years some of our great writers have prophesied that the conquest of the air would be as costly in human life as was that of the sea, but their prophecies have most certainly been wrong, for in the wreck of one single vessel, such as that of the titanic, more lives were lost than in all the disasters to any form of aerial craft. perhaps some of our grandfathers can remember the dread with which many nervous people entered, or saw their friends enter, a train. travellers by the railway eighty or ninety years ago considered that they took their lives in their hands, so to speak, when they went on a long journey, and a great sigh of relief arose in the members of their families when the news came that the journey was safely ended. in george stephenson's days there was considerable opposition to the institution of the railway, simply on account of the number of accidents which it was anticipated would take place. now we laugh at the fears of our great-grandparents; is it not probable that our grandchildren will laugh in a similar manner at our timidity over the aeroplane? in the case of all recent new inventions in methods of locomotion there has always been a feeling among certain people that the law ought to prohibit such inventions from being put into practice. there used to be bitter opposition to the motor-car, and at first every mechanically-driven vehicle had to have a man walking in front with a red flag. there are risks in all means of transit; indeed, it may be said that the world is a dangerous place to live in. it is true, too, that the demons of the air have taken their toll of life from the young, ambitious, and daring souls. many of the fatal accidents have been due to defective work in some part of the machinery, some to want of that complete knowledge and control that only experience can give, some even to want of proper care on the part of the pilot. if a pilot takes ordinary care in controlling his machine, and if the mechanics who have built the machine have done their work thoroughly, flying, nowadays, should be practically as safe as motoring. the french aero club find, from a mass or information which has been compiled for them with great care, that for every , miles actually flown by aeroplane during the year , only one fatal accident had occurred. this, too, in france, where some of the pilots have been notoriously reckless, and where far more airmen have been killed than in britain. when we examine carefully the statistics dealing with fatal accidents in aeroplanes we find that the pioneers of flying, such as the famous wright brothers, bleriot, farman, grahame-white, and so on, were comparatively free from accidents. no doubt, in some cases, defective machines or treacherous wind gusts caused the craft to collapse in mid-air. but, as a rule, the first men to fly were careful to see that every part of the machine was in order before going up in it, so that they rarely came to grief through the planes not being sufficiently tightened up, wires being unduly strained, spars snapping, or bolts becoming loose. mr. grahame-white admirably expresses this when he says: "it is a melancholy reflection, when one is going through the lists of aeroplane fatalities, to think how many might have been avoided. really the crux of the situation in this connection, as it appears to me, is this: the first men who flew, having had all the drudgery and danger of pioneer work, were extremely careful in all they did; and this fact accounts for the comparatively large proportion of these very first airmen who have survived. "but the men who came next in the path of progress, having a machine ready-made, so to speak, and having nothing to do but to get into it and fly, did not, in many cases, exercise this saving grace of caution. and that--at least in my view--is why a good many of what one may call the second flight of pilots came to grief." chapter xlvi. accidents and their cause (cont.) one of the main causes of aeroplane accidents has been the breakage of some part of the machine while in the air, due to defective work in its construction. there is no doubt that air-craft are far more trustworthy now than they were two or three years ago. builders have learned from the mistakes of their predecessors as well as profited by their own. after every serious accident there is an official enquiry as to the probable cause of the accident, and information of inestimable value has been obtained from such enquiries. the royal aero club of great britain has a special "accidents investigation committee" whose duty it is to issue a full report on every fatal accident which occurs to an aeroplane in this country. as a rule, representatives of the committee visit the scene of the accident as soon as possible after its occurrence. eye-witnesses are called before them to give evidence of the disaster; the remains of the craft are carefully inspected in order to discover any flaw in its construction; evidence is taken as to the nature and velocity of the wind on the day of the accident, the approximate height at which the aviator was flying, and, in fact, everything of value that might bear on the cause of the accident. as a good example of an official report we may quote that issued by the accidents investigation committee of the royal aero club on the fatal accident which occurred to colonel cody and his passenger on th august, . "the representatives of the accidents committee visited the scene of the accident within a few hours of its occurrence, and made a careful examination of the wrecked air-craft. evidence was also taken from the eye-witnesses of the accident. "from the consideration of the evidence the committee regards the following facts as clearly established: " . the air-craft was built at farnborough, by mr. s. f. cody, in july, . " . it was a new type, designed for the daily mail hydroplane race round great britain, but at the time of the accident had a land chassis instead of floats. " . the wind at the time of the accident was about miles per hour. " . at about feet from the ground the air-craft buckled up and fell to the ground. a large piece of the lower left wing, composing the whole of the front spar between the fuselage and the first upright, was picked up at least yards from the spot where the air-craft struck the ground. " . the fall of the air-craft was broken considerably by the trees, to such an extent that the portion of the fuselage surrounding the seats was practically undamaged. " . neither the pilot nor passenger was strapped in. "opinion. the committee is of opinion that the failure of the air-craft was due to inherent structural weakness. "since that portion of the air-craft in which the pilot and passenger were seated was undamaged, it is conceivable their lives might have been saved had they been strapped in." this occasion was not the only time when the accidents investigation committee recommended the advisability of the airman being strapped to his seat. but many airmen absolutely refuse to wear a belt, just as many cyclists cannot bear to have their feet made fast to the pedals of their cycles by using toe-clips. mention of toe-clips brings us to other accidents which sometimes befall airmen. as we have seen in a previous chapter, mr. hawker's accident in ireland was due to his foot slipping over the rudder bar of his machine. it is thought that the disaster to mr. pickles' machine on "aerial derby" day in was due to the same cause, and on one occasion mr. brock was in great danger through his foot slipping on the rudder bar while he was practising some evolutions at the london aerodome. machines are generally flying at a very fast rate, and if the pilot loses control of the machine when it is near the ground the chances are that the aeroplane crashes to earth before he can right it. both mr. hawker and mr. pickles were flying low at the time of their accidents, and so their machines were smashed; fortunately mr. brock was comparatively high up in the air, and though his machine rocked about and banked in an ominous manner, yet he was able to gain control just in the nick of time. to prevent accidents of this kind the rudder bars could be fitted with pedals to which the pilot's feet could be secured by toe-clips, as on bicycle pedals. indeed, some makers of air-craft have already provided pedals with toe-clips for the rudder bar. probably some safety device such as this will soon be made compulsory on all machines. we have already remarked that certain pilots do not pay sufficient heed to the inspection of their machines before making a flight. the difference between pilots in this respect is interesting to observe. on the great day at hendon, in --the aerial derby day--there were over a dozen pilots out with their craft. from the enclosure one could watch the airmen and their mechanics as the machines were run out from the hangars on to the flying ground. one pilot walked beside his mechanics while they were running the machine to the starting place, and watched his craft with almost fatherly interest. before climbing into his seat he would carefully inspect the spars, bolts, wires, controls, and so on; then he would adjust his helmet and fasten himself into his seat with a safety belt. "surely with all that preliminary work he is ready to start," remarked one of the spectators standing by. but no! the engine must be run at varying speeds, while the mechanics hold back the machine. this operation alone took three or four minutes, and all that the pilot proposed to do was to circle the aerodrome two or three times. an onlooker asked a mechanic if there were anything wrong with that particular machine. "no!" was the reply; "but our governor's very faddy, you know!" and now for the other extreme! three mechanics emerged from a hangar pushing a rather ungainly-looking biplane, which bumped over the uneven ground. the pilot was some distance behind, with cigarette in mouth, joking with two or three friends. when the machine was run out into the open ground he skipped quickly up to it, climbed into the seat, started the engine, waved a smiling "good-bye", and was off. for all he knew, that rather rough jolting of the craft while it was being removed from the hangar might have broken some wire on which the safety of his machine, and his life, depended. the excuse cannot be made that his mechanics had performed this all-important work of inspection, for their attention was centred on the daring "banking" evolutions of some audacious pilot in the aerodrome. mr. c. g. grey, the well-known writer on aviation matters, and the editor of the aeroplane, says, with regard to the need of inspection of air-craft:-- "a pilot is simply asking for trouble if he does not go all over his machine himself at least once a day, and, if possible, every time he is starting for a flight. "one seldom hears, in these days, of a broken wheel or axle on a railway coach, yet at the chief stopping places on our railways a man goes round each train as it comes in, tapping the tires with a hammer to detect cracks, feeling the hubs to see if there is any sign of a hot box, and looking into the grease containers to see if there is a proper supply of lubricant. there ought to be a similar inspection of every aeroplane every time it touches the ground. the jar of even the best of landings may fracture a bolt holding a wire, so that when the machine goes up again the wire may fly back and break the propeller, or get tangled in the control wires, or a strut or socket may crack in landing, and many other things may happen which careful inspection would disclose before any harm could occur. mechanics who inspected machines regularly would be able to go all over them in a few minutes, and no time would be wasted. as it is, at any aerodrome one sees a machine come down, the pilot and passenger (a fare or a pupil) climb out, the mechanics hang round and smoke cigarettes, unless they have to perform the arduous duties of filling up with petrol. in due course another passenger and a pilot climb in, a mechanic swings the propeller, and away they go quite happily. if anything casts loose they come down--and it is truly wonderful how many things can come loose or break in the air without anyone being killed. if some thing breaks in landing, and does not actually fall out of place, it is simply a matter of luck whether anyone happens to see it or not." this advice, coming from a man with such wide experience of the theory and practice of flying, should surely be heeded by all those who engage in deadly combat with the demons of the air. in the early days of aviation, pilots were unacquainted with the nature and method of approach of treacherous wind gusts; often when they were flying along in a steady, regular wind, one of these gusts would strike their craft on one side, and either overturn it or cause it to over-bank, so that it crashed to earth with a swift side-slip through the air. happily the experience of those days, though purchased at the cost of many lives, has taught makers of air-craft to design their machines on more trustworthy lines. pilots, too, have made a scientific study of air eddies, gusts, and so on, and the danger of flying in a strong or gusty wind is comparatively small. chapter xlvii. accidents and their cause (cont.) many people still think that if the engine of an aeroplane should stop while the machine was in mid-air, a terrible disaster would happen. all petrol engines may be described as fickle in their behaviour, and so complicated is their structure that the best of them are given to stopping without any warning. aeroplane engines are far superior in horse-power to those fitted to motorcars, and consequently their structure is more intricate. but if an airman's engine suddenly stopped there would be no reason whatever why he should tumble down head first and break his neck. strange to say, too, the higher he was flying the safer he would be. all machines have what is called a gliding angle. when the designer plans his machine he considers the distribution of the weight or the engine, pilot and passengers, of the petrol, aeronautical instruments, and planes, so that the aeroplane is built in such a manner that when the engine stops, and the nose of the machine is turned downwards, the aeroplane of its own accord takes up its gliding angle and glides to earth. gliding angles vary in different machines. if the angle is one in twelve, this would mean that if the glide wave commenced at a height of mile, and continued in a straight line, the pilot would come to earth miles distant. we are all familiar with the gradients shown on railways. there we see displayed on short sign-posts such notices as " in ", with the opposite arms of the post pointing upwards and downwards. this, of course, means that the slope of the railway at that particular place is foot in a distance of feet. one in twelve may be described as the natural gradient which the machine automatically makes when engine power is cut off. it will be evident why it is safer for a pilot to fly, say, at four or five thousand feet high than just over the tree-tops or the chimney-pots of towns. suppose, for example, the machine has a gliding angle of one in twelve, and that when at an altitude of about a mile the engine should stop. we will assume that at the time of the stoppage the pilot is over a forest where it is quite impossible to land. directly the engine stopped he would change the angle of the elevating plane, so that the aeroplane would naturally fall into its gliding angle. the craft would at once settle itself into a forward and slightly downward glide; and the airman, from his point of vantage, would be able to see the extent of the forest. we will assume that the aeroplane is gliding in a northerly direction, and that the country is almost as unfavourable for landing there as over the forest itself. in fact, we will imagine an extreme case, where the airman is over country quite unsuitable for landing except toward the south; that is, exactly opposite to the direction in which he starts to glide. fortunately, there is no reason why he should not steer his machine right round in the air, even though the only power is that derived from the force of gravity. his descent would be in an immense slope, extending or miles from the place where the engine stopped working. he would therefore be able to choose a suitable landing-place and reach earth quite safely. but supposing the airman to be flying about a hundred yards above the forest-an occurrence not likely to happen with a skilled airman, who would probably take an altitude of nearly a mile. almost before he could have time to alter his elevating plane, and certainly long before he could reach open ground, he would be on the tree-tops. it is thought that in the near future air-craft will be fitted with two or more motors, so that when one fails the other will keep the machine on its course. this has been found necessary in zeppelin air-ships. in an early zeppelin model, which was provided with one engine only, the insufficient power caused the pilot to descend on unfavourable ground, and his vessel was wrecked. more recent types of zeppelins are fitted with three or four engines. experiments have already been made with the dual-engine plant for aeroplanes, notably by messrs. short brothers, of rochester, and the tests have given every satisfaction. there is little doubt that if the large passenger aeroplane is made possible, and if parliamentary powers have to be obtained for the formation of companies for passenger traffic by aeroplane, it will be made compulsory to fit machines with two or more engines, driving three or four distinct propellers. one of the engines would possibly be of inferior power, and used only in cases of emergency. still another cause of accident, which in some cases has proved fatal, is the taking of unnecessary risks when in the air. this has happened more in america and in france than in great britain. an airman may have performed a very difficult and daring feat at some flying exhibition and the papers belauded his courage. a rival airman, not wishing to be outdone in skill or courage, immediately tries either to repeat the performance or to perform an even more difficult evolution. the result may very well end in disaster, and famous airman killed is seen on most of the newspaper bills. the daring of some of our professional airmen is notorious. there is one particular pilot, whose name is frequently before us, whom i have in mind when writing this chapter. on several occasions i have seen him flying over densely-packed crowds, at a height of about two hundred feet or so. with out the slightest warning he would make a very sharp and almost vertical dive. the spectators, thinking that something very serious had happened, would scatter in all directions, only to see the pilot right his machine and jokingly wave his hand to them. one trembles to think what would have been the result if the machine had crashed to earth, as it might very easily have done. it is interesting to relate that the risks taken by this pilot, both with regard to the spectators and himself, formed the subject of comment, and, for the future, flying over the spectators' heads has been strictly forbidden. from to about airmen lost their lives in germany, france, america, and the british isles, and of this number the british loss was between thirty and forty. strange to say, nearly all the german fatalities have taken place in air-ships, which were for some years considered much safer than the heavier-than-air machine. chapter xlviii. some technical terms used by aviators though this book cannot pretend to go deeply into the technical side of aviation, there are certain terms and expressions in everyday use by aviators that it is well to know and understand. first, as to the machines themselves. you are now able to distinguish a monoplane from a biplane, and you have been told the difference between a tractor biplane and a propeller biplane. in the former type the screw is in front of the pilot; in the latter it is to the rear of the pilot's seat. reference has been previously made to the fuselage, skids, ailerons, warping controls, elevating planes, and rudder of the various forms of air-craft. we have also spoken of the gliding angle of a machine. frequently a pilot makes his machine dive at a much steeper gradient than is given by its natural gliding angle. when the fall is about one in six the glide is known as a vol plane; if the descent is made almost vertically it is called a vol pique. in some cases a pancake descent is made. this is caused by such a decrease of speed that the aeroplane, though still moving forward, begins to drop downwards. when the pilot finds that this is taking place, he points the nose of his machine at a much steeper angle, and so reaches his normal flying speed, and is able to effect a safe landing. if he were too near the earth he would not be able to make this sharp dive, and the probability is that the aeroplane would come down flat, with the possibility of a damaged chassis. it is considered faulty piloting to make a pancake descent where there is ample landing space; in certain restricted areas, however, it is quite necessary to land in this way. a far more dangerous occurrence is the side-slip. watch a pilot vol-planing to earth from a great height with his engine shut off. the propeller rotates in an irregular manner, sometimes stopping altogether. when this happens, the skilful pilot forces the nose of his machine down, and so regains his normal flying speed; but if he allowed the propeller to stop and at the same time his forward speed through the air to be considerably diminished, his machine would probably slip sideways through the air and crash to earth. in many cases side-slips have taken place at aerodromes when the pilot has been rounding a pylon with the nose of his machine pointing upwards. when a machine flies round a corner very quickly the pilot tilts it to one side. such action as this is known as banking. this operation can be witnessed at any aerodrome when speed handicaps are taking place. since upside-down flying came into vogue we have heard a great deal about nose diving. this is a headlong dive towards earth with the nose of the machine pointing vertically downwards. as a rule the pilot makes a sharp nose dive before he loops the loop. sometimes an aeroplane enters a tract of air where there seems to be no supporting power for the planes; in short, there appears to be, as it were, a hole in the air. scientifically there is no such thing as a hole in the air, but airmen are more concerned with practice than with theory, and they have, for their own purposes, designated this curious phenomenon an air pocket. in the early days of aviation, when machines were far less stable and pilots more quickly lost control of their craft, the air pocket was greatly dreaded, but nowadays little notice is taken of it. a violent disturbance in the air is known as a remous. this is somewhat similar to an eddy in a stream, and it has the effect of making the machine fly very unsteadily. remous are probably caused by electrical disturbances of the atmosphere, which cause the air streams to meet and mingle, breaking up into filaments or banding rills of air. the wind--that is, air in motion--far from being of approximate uniformity, is, under most ordinary conditions, irregular almost beyond conception, and it is with such great irregularities in the force of the air streams that airmen have constantly to contend. chapter xlix. the future in the air three years before the outbreak of the great war, the master-general of ordnance, who was in charge of aeronautics at the war office, declared: "we are not yet convinced that either aeroplanes or air-ships will be of any utility in war". after four years of war, with its ceaseless struggle between the allies and the central powers for supremacy in the air, such a statement makes us rub our eyes as though we had been dreaming. seven years--and in its passage the air encircling the globe has become one gigantic battle area, the british isles have lost the age-long security which the seas gave them, and to regain the old proud unassailable position must build a gigantic aerial fleet--as greatly superior to that of their neighbours as was, and is, the british navy. seven years--and the monoplane is on the scrap-heap; the zeppelin has come as a giant destroyer--and gone, flying rather ridiculously before the onslaughts of its tiny foes. in a recent article the editor of the aeroplane referred to the erstwhile terror of the air as follows: "the best of air-ships is at the mercy of a second-rate aeroplane". enough to make count zeppelin turn in his grave! to-day in aerial warfare the air-ship is relegated to the task of observer. as the "blimp", the kite-balloon, the coast patrol, it scouts and takes copious notes; but it leaves the fighting to a tiny, heavier-than-air machine armed with a lewis gun, and destructive attacks to those big bomb-droppers, the british handley page, the german gotha, the italian morane tri-plane. the war in the air has been fought with varying fortunes. but, looking back upon four years of war, we may say that, in spite of a slow start, we have managed to catch up our adversaries, and of late we have certainly dealt as hard knocks as we have received. a great spurt of aerial activity marked the opening of the year . from all quarters of the globe came reports, moderate and almost bald in style, but between the lines of which the average man could read word-pictures of the skill, prowess, and ceaseless bravery of the men of the royal flying corps and royal naval air service. recently there have appeared two official publications ( ), profusely illustrated with photographs, which give an excellent idea of the work and training of members of the two corps. forewords have been contributed respectively by lord hugh cecil and sir eric geddes, first lord of the admiralty. these publications lift a curtain upon not only the activities of the two corps, but the tremendous organization now demanded by war in the air. ( ) the work and training of the royal flying corps and the work and training of the royal naval air service. all this to-day. to-morrow the handley page and gotha may be occupying their respective niches in the museum of aerial antiquities, and we may be all agog over the aerial passenger service to the united states of america. for truly, in the science of aviation a day is a generation, and three months an eon. when the coming of peace turns men's thoughts to the development of aeroplanes for commerce and pleasure voyages, no one can foretell what the future may bring forth. at the time of writing, air attacks are still being directed upon london. but the enemy find it more and more difficult to penetrate the barrage. sometimes a solitary machine gets through. frequently the whole squadron of raiding aeroplanes is turned back at the coast. as for the military advantage the germans have derived, after nearly four years of attacks by air, it may be set down as practically nil. in raid after raid they missed their so-called objectives and succeeded only in killing noncombatants. far different were the aim and scope of the british air offensives into germany and into country occupied by german troops. railway junctions, ammunition dumps, enemy billets, submarine bases, aerodromes--these were the targets for our airmen, who scored hits by the simple but dangerous plan of flying so low that misses were almost out of the question. "make sure of your objective, even if you have to sit upon it." thus is summed up, in popular parlance, the policy of the royal flying corps and royal naval air service. and if justification were heeded of this strict limitation of aim, it will be found in the substantial military losses inflicted upon the enemy results which would never have been attained had our airmen dissipated their energies on non-military objectives for the purpose of inspiring terror in the civil population. none proofreading team. mystery stories for boys lost in the air by roy j. snell contents chapter i who is the major ii the strange landing iii in the midst of the pack iv a modern battle with criminals v an infernal machine vi the race is on vii a strange people viii the walrus hunt ix fighting their way out x to the treasure city xi a battle beneath the arctic moon xii the russian tiger xiii bruce and the bear xiv "bombed" xv the mystery cavern xvi wrecked xvii "so this is the pole" chapter i who is the major? "let's get a breath of fresh air." bruce manning yawned and stretched, then slid off his high stool at the bookkeeping desk. barney menter followed his example. they had been together only a few days, these two, but already they were pals. this was not to be wondered at, for both had been discharged recently from army aviation service--bruce in canada and barney in the united states. each had served his country well. now they were employed in the work of developing the wilds of northern canada near hudson bay. and there are no regions more romantic than this with all its half-gleaned history and its million secrets of wonder, wealth and beauty. as they stood in the doorway, gazing at the forest-lined river and distant bluffs, hearing the clang of steel on steel, as construction work went forward, catching the roar of cataracts in nelson river, and tingling with the keen air of the northern summer, life seemed a new creation, so different was it from the days of war. "what's this?" bruce was looking at a file containing bills-of-lading, a messenger had handed him. "car , c. p. r., consigned to major a. bronson. airplane and supplies." he read it aloud and whistled. barney jumped to snatch it from him. "stand back! give me air," bruce gasped. "an airplane at the present end of the hudson bay railroad! what's doing now? what are they up to? going to quit construction here and use planes the rest of the way? fancy freighting wheat, fish, furs and whale blubber by airplanes!" both lads laughed at the idea. "i don't wish his pilot any bad luck," said barney. "but if he must die by breaking his neck, or something, i hope he does it before he reaches the hudson bay terminus. i'd like to take his place in that big air-bird. say, wouldn't it be glorious!" "you've stolen my thunder," replied bruce, laughing. "i'm taking that job myself." "tell you what! i'll fight you for it. what weapons do you choose? rope-handed spiking hammers or pick-axes?" "let's go down and see if it's here. like as not it's a machine neither of us would risk his neck in; some old junk-pile the government's sold to the chap for a hundred and fifty or so." that this idea was not taken seriously by either was shown by the double-quick at which they went down the line, and over the half-laid tracks to where the accommodation train was standing. thorough inspection of car numbers convinced them that no. c.p.r. had not arrived. "oh, well! perhaps to-morrow she'll be in. then we'll see what we see," yawned bruce, as he turned back toward the roughly-built log shack where work awaited them. "what's that?" bruce, who was in the lead, stopped before the trunk of a scraggly spruce tree. on its barkless trunk a sheet of white paper had been tacked. the two boys read it eagerly: notice! to trappers, hunters, campers and prospectors. $ reward will be paid to any person locating anywhere within the bounds of the canadian northlands at any point north of ° north, a wireless station, operated without license or permit. the notice, signed by the provincial authorities, was enough to quicken their keen minds. "what do you suppose they want to know that for?" asked barney. "the war's over." "perhaps further intrigue by our former enemy. perhaps smugglers. perhaps--well, do your own perhapsing. but say!" bruce exclaimed, "wouldn't it be great to take packs, rifles and mosquito-bar netting and go hunting that fellow in that northern wilderness?" "great sport, all right," grinned barney. "but you'd have about as much chance of finding him as you would of locating german u boat m. by walking the bottom of the atlantic." "that's true, all right," said bruce thoughtfully. "but just think of that wilderness! lakes no white man has seen; rivers no canoe has traveled; mountain tops no human ever looked from! say! i've lived in canada all my life and up to now i've been content to let that wilderness just be wild. but the war came and i guess it shook me out of myself. now that wilderness calls to me, and, the first chance that offers, i'm going to turn explorer. the wireless station offers an excuse, don't you see?" barney grinned. he was a hard-headed, practical yankee boy; the kind who count the cost and appraise the possible results. "if you are talking of hunting, fishing, and a general good time in the woods, then i'm with you; but if you are talking of a search for that wireless, then, i say, give me some speedier way of travel than tramping. give me--" he hesitated, then he blurted out: "give me an airplane." the boys stared at one another as if they had discovered a state secret. then bruce voiced their thoughts: "do you suppose this major what-you-may-call-him is bringing up his plane for some commission like that?" "i don't know," said barney. "but if he is," he said the words slowly, "if he is, then all i've got to say is, that it's mighty important; something affecting the government." "i believe you're right about that," said bruce, "but what it is i haven't the least shadow of a notion. and what complicates it still more is, the major comes from down in the states." "maybe it's something international," suggested barney. "yes," grinned bruce, suddenly awaking from these wild speculations, "and maybe he's just some sort of bloomin' sport coming up here to take moving pictures of caribou herds, or to shoot white whale in hudson bay! guess we better get back to work." "ye'll pardon an old man's foolish questions?" both boys turned at the words. an old man with bent shoulders, sunken chest and trembling hand stood beside them. there was an eager, questioning look in his kindly eyes, as he said in quaint scotch accent: "ye'll noo be goin' to the woods a' soon?" "i don't know," said bruce, in a friendly tone. he was puzzled by the old man's question, having recognized him as a second cook for the steel-laying gang. "fer if ye be," continued the man, "ye's be keepin' a lookout fer timmie noo, wouldn't ye though?" "who's timmie?" asked bruce. "timmie? hae ye never hearn o' timmie? timmie; the boy it was, seventeen he was then. but 'twas twelve years ago it was, lad. he'd be a man noo. i sent him fer the bag wi' the pay-roll in it, an' he never coom back. it was the money thet done it, fer mind ye, i'm tellin' ye, he was jest a boy, seventeen. he went away to the woods wi' it, and then was shamed to coom back, i know. so if ye'll be goin' to the woods ye'll be watchin' noo, won't ye?" "was he your boy?" "no, not mine. but 'twas i was to blame; sendin' him fer th' pay; an' him so young. five thousand seven hundred and twenty-four dollars it was, of the logging company's money; a month's pay fer the men. an' if ye see him tell him i was all to blame. tell him to coom back; the province'll fergive him." "and the company?" asked bruce. "partners both dead. died poor. no. 'twasn't the loss of thet money. they had many losses. contractin's a fearfu' uncertain business; fearfu' uncertain." the old man shook his head slowly. "any heirs?" asked bruce. "heirs? to the partners? yes, one. a girl, noo. ye'll be kenin' the lass thet helps in the boardin' shack where you and the bosses eat?" "la vaune?" grinned barney, poking bruce in the ribs. "do you _know_ her?" la vaune, the little black-eyed french canadian, had taken quite a liking to her handsome young fellow-countryman, bruce. "well, noo," said the old scotchman. "thet's the lass noo. an' should you find the money noo, it will all be hers. an' ye'll be lookin' fer it noo, won't ye? many's the time i took a wee snack and a blanket an' made a wee pack an' gone into the woods to find him. but i hae never seen track o' him. he'll nae be by lake athapapukskow, fer there's folks there; not by lake weskusko neither, fer i been there, but som'ers in the woods timmie is, an' if he's dead his shack'll be there an' the money, fer he never coom out o' th' woods again, thet shamed he was." the boys promised to keep an eye out for timmie, if ever they went into the unknown wilderness, and left the old man with a new hope shining in his eyes. for a long time after reaching the office the boys worked in silence. at last barney straightened his tired shoulders and glanced at bruce. he was in a brown study. "what's on your mind, bruce?" he asked. "that money?" "thinking what it would do for la vaune; five thousand seven hundred and twenty-four dollars." bruce rolled the words out slowly. though they said no more about it, the old man's story was the inspiration of many a wild plan. the truth is, it was destined to play an important part in shaping their future. * * * * * "he's here! she's--it's here!" bruce burst into the office all excitement and half out of breath. "who's he, she, it?" grinned barney, slipping his pen behind his ear. "the major and the airplane! and the plane's a hummer!" it was barney's turn to get excited now. he jumped from his stool so suddenly that his pen went clattering. "let's have a look at her." he grabbed his cap and dashed out, bruce at his heels. some greek freight handlers were unloading the car when they reached the track. the work was being done under the direction of a rather tall man, erect and dignified. he, the boys felt sure, was the major. his face bore some peculiar scars, not deep but wide, and as he walked he limped slightly. "might be he's lost some toes," muttered barney. "had a cousin who limped that way." "the machine's a handley-page bombing plane, made over for some purpose or other," said bruce, with a keen eye for every detail. "that's the plane that would have bombed berlin if the war had lasted long enough. they're carrying mail from paris to rome in 'em now. those machines carried four engines and developed a thousand horse-power. this one is a lighter model and carries two engines. one's a rolls-royce and one a liberty motor. the fellow that planned the major's trip for him has selected his equipment well. they don't make them any better." "just look at the sweep of the planes," exclaimed barney. "they were made for high altitude work--up where the air's thin. no one would be coming up here for a high altitude test, would he?" "surely not; there's no particular advantage at this point for that." the boys watched the unloading with eager and experienced eyes. as barney put it, "makes me feel like some shipwrecked gob on a desert island when he sees a launch coming ashore." "yes," grinned bruce, "and soon you'll be feeling like your gob would when the launch came about and put out to sea again. no chance for you on that boat, barney." "guess you're right," groaned barney. "little enough we'll have to do with that bird." as he spoke several of the men recklessly jerked a plane to free it from its wrappings. the major, his back to them, was superintending the unloading of the liberty motor. "hey, you! go easy there!" barney sprang forward impulsively and showed the workmen how to handle the plane. when the job was done he stepped back with an apologetic air. the major had turned and was watching him. "you seem to understand such matters," he smiled. "i've worked with them a bit," said barney. "would you mind letting me know where you are located?" asked the major. "my aviator and mechanic have disappointed me so far. you might be of some assistance to me." "we're over at the bookkeeping shack--the office of the construction company," said barney, red with embarrassment. "he--that is, my bunkie here, knows more about those boats than i do. say, if we can be any help to you, we'll jump at the chance. won't we, bruce?" "surest thing," grinned bruce, as they turned regretfully toward the dull office and duller work. "say, you don't suppose," exclaimed barney that night at supper--"you remember those awful wide planes of the major's? you don't suppose he's starting for--" barney hesitated. "you don't mean?--" bruce hesitated in turn. "sure! the pole; you don't suppose he'd try it?" "of course not," exclaimed bruce, the conservative. "who ever thought of going to the pole in a plane through canada?" "bartlett's got a plan of going to the pole in a plane." "but he's going from greenland," said bruce. "that's different." "why" "steamboat. farthest point of land north and everything." "that's just it," exclaimed barney disgustedly. "steamboat and everything. you're not a real explorer unless some society backs you up with somebody's money to the tune of fifty thousand or so; till you've got together a group of scholars and seamen for the voyage. then the proper thing to do is to get caught in the ice, you are all but lost. but--the ice clears at the crucial moment, you push on and on for two years; you live on seal meat and whale blubber. half your seamen get scurvy and die; your dogs go mad; your eskimos prove treacherous, you shoot one or more. you take long sled journeys, you freeze, you starve, you erect cairns at your farthest point north, or west, or whatever it is. then, if you're lucky, you lose your ship in an ice-jam and walk home, ragged and emaciated. a man that does it that way gets publicity; writes a book, gets to be somebody. "you see," he went on, "we've sort of got in the way of thinking that it takes a big expedition to do exploring. but, after all, what good does a big expedition do? peary didn't need one. he landed at the pole with two eskimos and a negro. well, now it ought to be easy as nothing for two or three men in a plane, like that one of the major's, to go to the pole from here. there's a fort and trading post on great bear lake with, maybe, a power-boat and gasoline. then, if there happened to be a whaler, or something, to give you a second lift, why there you are!" "sounds pretty good," admitted bruce. "but nobody would ever attempt it." "of course not," retorted barney. "it's too simple." the two following days the boys found themselves taking morning and evening walks down the track to the airplane, which still lay piled in sections by the track. they were surprised to see that no effort was being made to assemble it. the reason for the delay was made clear to them by an unexpected encounter on the evening of the second day. finding the major pacing up and down before the machine, his slight limp aggravated by his very evident irritation, they were about to pass as if they didn't know there was a plane within a hundred miles, when they were halted by the upraised hand of the major. immediately both boys clicked heels and saluted. then they felt foolish for saluting in "civies." "i see you are military all right," smiled the major. "but how much do you really know about airplanes?" "oh," said barney, with exaggerated indifference, "bruce, here, knows a little and i know a little, too. between us we might be able to assemble your machine, if that's what you want." in spite of his heroic attempts at self-control, his voice betrayed his eagerness. truth was, his fingers itched for pliers and wrenches. "that's part of what i want, but not all," the major said briskly. "i am not an aviator myself, and my man has failed me at the last moment; had a trifling smash which resulted in a dislocated thigh. out of service for the season. i need an aviator and a good one. he says there's only one other not attached to military units that he could recommend--a canadian. but the plague of it is, the man can't be located." "might i ask the nature of your proposed trip?" asked bruce--then bit his lip a second too late. "you might not" the major snapped out the words. then in a kindlier tone, "my secret is not entirely my own. i can say, however, that it is not an exceedingly long trip, nor a dangerous one, as aviation goes, but it is an important one, and besides, if it comes out well, and i believe it will, i might wish to go on a more hazardous journey. in that case, of course, you can see i should wish a veteran pilot at the wheel and one who will take a chance." he turned to bruce. "you are a canadian, are you not?" "yes, sir." "then perhaps you can tell me of the whereabouts of this young canadian aviator. his name is--" the major stopped to think. "his name is--ah! i have it! it's manning--bruce manning." bruce's jaw dropped in astonishment. he was too surprised to speak. it was barney who, almost shouting in his excitement, said: "he's bruce manning, major." "what?" the major stood back and looked at bruce. "you? oh come; you are hardly more than a boy!" "yes," said barney, "he's hardly more than a boy, but some of the best flyers the allies had were hardly more than boys. they were boys when they went into it over there, but the boys who went up after the germans two or three times came down men, major. don't forget that." "you're right--and i beg your pardon," said the major, bowing to them. "i spoke thoughtlessly. so then i have the good fortune to be speaking to the very man i seek?" he went on, turning to bruce. "now i suppose the remaining questions are: will you be at liberty to take up aviation again and--do you want to?" "that," said bruce, struggling to keep his voice steady, "will depend upon at least one thing: if you will answer one question now, we will promise you a definite answer to-morrow morning at seven o'clock." "the question?" "my friend here, barney menter, is quite as skilled an aviator as i am. if i go, he goes. what there is in it in pay or peril we will share equally." barney stepped forward to protest, but bruce held him back and continued: "your machine is equipped for two men besides yourself. will you take us both?" "most certainly," said the major heartily. "in case you decide to accompany me, i shall wire the mechanic not to come and you two may divide the work between you as you may see fit. "i might say," he added, "that the pay will be double that which you are now receiving, and the journey will consume the remainder of the season. should we decide on something more hazardous, the pay will be in proportion, and there is, besides, a substantial, i might even say a rich reward offered, for the successful completion of this latter task. however, enough of that for the present. you can give me your decision in the morning, and i hope you accept." he bowed and strode away. "now, why didn't you say 'yes' on the spot?" demanded barney, impatiently. "we are required to give only a week's notice to the company and the nights and mornings of that week we can use getting the machine together and taking a trial flight." "i always sleep over a thing," answered bruce. "it's a habit i inherited from my father." long after, in quite different circumstances, barney was to remember this remark, and bless bruce's inheritance. mail had been delivered during their absence. barney found a letter on his desk. he puzzled over the postmark, which was from some pacific port. he tore the envelope open, glanced at the letter, then read it with sudden eagerness. "bruce," he exclaimed, "listen to this. it's from an old pal of mine, david tower; entered the navy same time i did the army." and he read aloud: "dear barney: "i'm off for somewhere far north; guess not the pole, but pretty well up that way. second officer on a u. s. sub. she's loaned to a queer old chap they call doctor. no particulars yet. hope this finds you 'up in the air,' as per usual. "dave." "that _is_ a coincidence," said bruce. "perhaps we'll meet him up there somewhere among the icebergs." "i'll suggest it!" exclaimed barney, reaching for his pen. "dear dave," he wrote. "am thinking of a little trip north myself. our ship's a hp handley-page. bring your guitar and oboe along. my partner and i are bringing saxophone and mandolin. we'll have a little jazz. till we meet, as ever, "barney." if the boy had known under what strange conditions this particular jazz performance would be given, he might have felt queer sensations creeping up his spinal column. "i say!" exclaimed bruce suddenly, "who's this major chap, anyway? i've a notion he's something rather big, maybe the biggest--" "you don't mean?--" "i'm not saying anything," protested bruce, "but this other man i'm thinking of left a toe or two in the arctic, and his face has freeze scars on it. his name's--well, you know it as well as i do." "shucks! it couldn't be," exclaimed barney. "he wouldn't be up here alone this way." "no, i guess not," sighed bruce. "but it would be great sport if it were he, after all." ten days later, a girl in her late teens stood shading her eyes watching a tiny object against the sky. it might have been a hawk, but it was not; it was an airplane--the handley-page, with the two young pilots and the major on board. the girl was la vaune. she stood there watching till the plane had dwindled to a dot, and the dot had disappeared. holding her apron to her eyes to hide her tears, she walked blindly into the house. the adventurers were well on their way. chapter ii the strange landing "i don't like the way the rolls-royce is acting," bruce grumbled through his telephone to barney, for, though they were not four feet apart, not a word could they hear, so great was the din of their two powerful engines. "same here," answered barney. "old major ought to have given us more time to try 'em out. brand new." "barren lands far away. forced to land in tree-tops. good-night!" after that there came only the monotonous roar of the engines. the major's orders had been "due north by west," and now, though they had put fully two hundred miles between themselves and the last sign of civilization, they were still holding to their course. they also had been directed to fly as low as was safe. three times the major had barked an order into the receiver; always to circle some spot, while he swept the earth with a binocular as powerful as could be used in an airplane. three times he had given a second order to resume their course. "he seems to be looking for something," barney said to himself, and at once he began wondering what it could be. mines of fabulous wealth were said to be hidden away in the hills and forests over which they were passing--rich outcroppings of gold, silver and copper. perhaps the major was trying to locate them from the air. here and there they passed over broad stretches of prairie, the grass of which would feed numberless herds of cattle. perhaps, too, the major was examining these with an eye to future gain. then, again barney thought of the illegal wireless station and he idly speculated on how it could be so important now that the war was over. there was little to do but think as they scudded away, now racing a cloud, then plunging through the masses of vapor, to reappear suddenly in the sunshine beyond. barney had always keenly enjoyed watching the land slip by beneath him as he flew, but on this journey there was the added joy of sailing over lands unknown. his reflections were suddenly cut short by a strange jarring rattle from the rolls-royce. instantly the thunder was cut in half, as also was their power. bruce had stopped the big motor. if now something went wrong with the liberty, they must make a forced landing. this, with the level stretches of prairie giving place to rough, rolling swells covered with scrub timber, was not a pleasant thing to think of and even less pleasant to attempt. the sun, sending a last yellow glow across the land, sank from sight, and soon the moon, with silvery light and black bands of shadow, was playing strange tricks with the stolid world beneath them. all day, when duties permitted, bruce had kept an eye open for a cabin hidden among the pines. now he shouted through the telephone to barney; "what'll i do if i catch a square of light below?" barney knew he was thinking of the boy, timmie, and la vaune's money he carried into the woods. a square of light, of course, would have been a cabin window. "kill your engine if you see a chance to light, and explain later," he shouted back. but no square of light appeared, and soon the thought of it was driven from their minds, for, of a sudden, the plane shuddered like a man with a chill. it was the second engine. bruce threw off the power. then, with a sput-sput-sput, started it again. once more came the shudder. again he tried with no better results. half its power was gone; something was seriously wrong. he turned to the other engine. it would not start at all. here was trouble. they were passing over ridge after ridge, and all were roughly timbered. surely, here was no landing-place. and if the second engine stopped altogether,--bruce's heart lost a beat at thought of it. he gave the engine more gas and headed the plane upward. she climbed slowly, sluggishly, like a tired bird, but at length the keener air told him they were a safer distance above the earth. "better chance to pick a landing-place from here," thought barney. they had scarcely reached this higher level when the engine stopped. no efforts of the pilot availed to start it. his companions silently watched bruce's mute struggles. the major, a perfect sport, sat stoically in his place. barney, knowing that suggestions were useless, also was silent. so they volplaned slowly downward, every eye strained for a safe landing-place. they knew what a crash would mean at such a place. loss of life perhaps; a wrecked plane at least, then a struggle through the woods till starvation ended it. they were four hundred miles from the last trace of white man's habitation. they had come down to three thousand feet when it became evident that only rough ridges lay beneath them. no landing-place here, certainly. they could only hang on as long as possible in the hope the ridges would give way to level ground. bruce thanked their luck for the wide-spreading wings which would impede their fall. a moment later he groaned, for just ahead of them he saw a rocky ridge higher than any they had passed over. here then was the end, he thought. but the tricky moonlight had deceived him. they cleared those rocks by a hundred feet and just beyond bruce gasped and looked again. "a miracle!" murmured barney. "or a mirage," whispered bruce. before them lay a square of level land, green,--in the moonlight. all about the square the land was black with trees, but there was a landing place. it was as if their trip had been long planned, their coming anticipated, and that a level field was cleared for them. it was only a matter of moments till they were bumping along over the ground. soon they were standing free from their harnesses and silently shaking hands. barney was the first to speak. "say, do you know," he said, "we're in somebody's wheat-field!" "impossible!" exclaimed the major. "see for yourself," the boy held before their astonished eyes a handful of almost ripened heads of wheat. "then what's happened?" demanded the major. "have you gone due south by west instead of north by west?" "unless my compass lied, and it has never done so before, we have gone north by west since we started, and we are--or ought to be at this moment--four hundred miles from what the white man calls civilization." "well," said the major, "since we are here, wherever that is, i suggest that we unpack our blankets and get out of the man's wheat-field, whoever he may be. the mystery will keep until morning." this they proceeded to do. a clump of stubby, heavy-stemmed spruce trees offered them shelter from the chill night wind, and there, rolled in blankets, they prepared to sleep. but bruce could not sleep. driving a plane through clouds, mist and sunshine for hours had made every nerve alert. and the strain of that last sagging slide through the air was not to be relieved instantly. so he lay there in his blankets, a tumult of ideas in his mind. this wheat-field now? had he really been misdirected by the compass on the plane? to prove that he had not, he drew from his pocket a small compass, and placing it in a spot of moonlight, took the relative direction of the last ridge over which they had passed and the plane in the wheat-field. he was right; the compass had been true. they were four hundred miles northwest of the last mile of track laid on the hudson bay railroad, deep in a wilderness, over which they had traveled for hours without sighting a single sign of white man's habitation. yet, here they were at the edge of a wheat-field. what was the answer? had some indian tribe taken to farming? with the forests alive with game, the streams with fish, this seemed impossible. of a sudden, the boy started. it was, of course-- the sudden snapping of a twig in the underbrush brought his mind back with a jerk to their present plight. he wished they had brought the rifles from the plane. some animal was lurking there in the shadows. wolves, grizzlies, some unknown terror, perhaps? then, in another second his eyes bulged. in an open space, between two spruce trees, where the moon shone brightly, had appeared for a moment a patch of white. then, amid the crashing of small twigs, the thing was gone. in childhood, bruce had been told many stories of ghosts and goblins by his irish nurse. he had never overcome his dread of them. but it was with the utmost difficulty that he suppressed a shout. then he laughed softly, for the crackling twigs told him he had seen a creature of flesh and blood, no ghost. he chuckled again and far in the dark a hoot-owl seemed to answer him and his company was a source of comfort. yet, here was, after all, another problem: what was this white-coated creature? of all the wild things of the forest, none was white save the arctic wolf. it was doubtful if he roamed so far south, especially in summer, and besides, this creature was too large and heavy to be a wolf. bruce thought of all the animals he knew and gave it up. it might have been a cow. cows in this wilderness did not seem more improbable than a wheat-field, but the creature had been too light of tread for that. could it have been an indian dressed in white, tanned deerskin? he was inclined to take this for the right solution, and wondered if he should awaken his companions. he could not tell what danger threatened. finally he decided to let them sleep. he would keep watch. the three of them could do no more. once more his mind turned to the problem of the wheat. what was it that he had just concluded? oh, yes, timmie! why might not timmie have camped here and planted this wheat? but twelve years? how had he lived? whence had come the seed wheat? there were a hundred questions connected with such a solution. ah, well, morning would tell. there would be a cabin somewhere on the edge of the field and they would eat. eat? for the first time bruce realized that he had not eaten for hours; was very hungry. securing some malted-milk tablets, carried for emergency rations, he dissolved them in his mouth. a wonderfully soothing effect they had. propping himself against the trees, he closed his eyes for a second, and before he could pry them open again, he, too, was fast asleep. when he awoke it was broad daylight and his companions were already astir. "did you fellows wake up last night?" he asked, rubbing his eyes sleepily. barney and the major shook their heads. "then you didn't see it?" "see what?" "the white thing." barney stared. the major's face was noncommittal. bruce told them of his experience. "he's been seeing a ghost," declared barney, with a laugh. "on the contrary," said the major slowly, "i think he hasn't. there are white creatures in the arctic; just such ones as he has described. i have seen them myself. no, not white bears, either. but i have never seen them this far south. i will not say now what i think bruce saw but i will say i do not think it was an indian." "look!" exclaimed barney suddenly in a whisper. he pointed to a thin column of smoke that was rising over the tree-tops, to the left of the wheat-field. "listen!" whispered bruce. "somebody's chopping wood." the freshening wind brought the sound of the axe plainly to their ears. a second later they heard the distant laugh of a child. "come on," said the major, throwing his roll of blankets at the foot of a tree. "where there's children there's no danger. maybe they'll have hot-cakes for breakfast!" a moment later found the three of them stealing silently through the forest. what they saw as they peered into the clearing brought them up standing. a man wielded an axe before a cabin. he was tall and strong, smooth-shaven and clean. no indian, but a white man. his clothing was of white-tanned buckskin. the cabin was of logs, but large, with a comfortable porch and several windows. the panes of the windows seemed near-glass. it was impossible to tell, from where they stood, whether the two laughing children who played by the door were white or half-breeds. the appearance at that door of a neatly-dressed indian woman seemed to settle that question. the three men had gone half-way across the narrow clearing, before the man, looking up from his work, saw them. instantly his face blanched. with a quick step backward, he reached for a rifle that stood by the door. then the arm fell limp by his side. "well, you've come!" he said in a lifeless tone. "i could have killed you, one or two of you, but i won't. i may be a thief, but not a murderer. besides, there are probably more of you back there in the trees." "on the contrary," smiled the major, "we are only three. we are not armed. so you see you might easily kill us all. but why you should want to, and why you expected us, when the last thing we thought to do was to land in your wheat-field last night, is more than i can guess." "landed?" the man's face showed his bewilderment. "i know," exclaimed bruce impulsively, "i'll explain. you're timmie--timmie--" he hesitated. "well, anyway, that's your first name. i know all about you--" again the man's trembling hand half-reached for the rifle. "then--then you have--come for me," he choked. bruce, realizing his mistake, hastened to correct it. "you're mistaken," he said quickly. "we haven't come for you in the way you mean. you won't need to go a step with us unless that is your wish. timmie, we're here to help you; to tell you that you were forgiven long ago." "is--is that true?" the man faltered. "the logging company?" "the partners are dead. their only heir, la vaune, forgives you." "and the province, the red riders?" "the province forgot the case years ago." "thank--thank god!" the man choked, then turned to hide his face. he faced them again in a moment and spoke steadily. "i've got the money here in the cabin, every cent of it. god knows i didn't mean to do it. but the temptation was too great. and--and once i had done it, i was afraid to go back. i would have died in prison. how did you come? are you going back? will you take the money to the little girl, la vaune?" "we're going farther," smiled bruce, happy in the realization of what all this meant to the maid in the camp. "we're going on. we flew here and will fly back--or try to." "and we'll be more than glad to return the money," he wished to add, but remembering that he would not have that to decide, he ended, "la vaune is no little girl now, but quite a young lady. she needs the money, too. and--and," he laughed sheepishly, "she's rather a good friend of mine." timmie drew his hand across his eyes, as if to brush away the vision of long years. then, with a smile, he said briskly: "of course, you'll have breakfast? we're having hot-cakes." "what did i tell you?" chuckled the major, slapping barney on the back. eager as the visitors were to hear the strange story of this man of the wilderness, they were willing that breakfast should come first. as they stepped upon the porch, the keen eye of the major fell on some white and spotted skins hanging over a beam. a close observer might have noticed a slight nod of his head, as if he said, "i thought so." but the boys were following the scent of browning griddle-cakes and saw neither the skins nor the major's nod. but barney, missing a familiar pungent odor that should go with such a breakfast in a wilderness, hurried back to the plane to return with a coffee pot and a sack of coffee. within the cabin they found everything scrupulously clean. strange cooking utensils of copper and stone caught their eye, while the translucent window-panes puzzled them. but all this was forgotten when they sat down to a polished table of white wood, and attacked a towering stack of cakes which vied with cups of coffee in sending a column of steam toward the rafters. with memories stirred by draughts of long untasted coffee, it was not difficult for timmie to tell his story. "when i left the settlement," he began, as he turned his mooseskin, hammock-like chair toward the open fireplace, and invited his guests to do likewise, "i struck straight into the wilderness. i had a little food, a small rifle and fishing-tackle. to me a summer in the woods with such equipment was no problem at all. i meant to go northwest for, perhaps, two hundred miles, camp there for the summer, then work my way back by going southwest. i would then be far from my crime and would be safe. that is what i meant to do. but once in the silent woods, i began to think of the wrong i had done. i would have given worlds to be back. but it was too late. i had to keep going. fording rivers, creeping through underbrush, climbing ridges, crossing swampy beaver-meadows, fighting the awful swarms of mosquitoes, i got through the summer, living on fish, game and berries. you see, i had become terribly afraid of the red riders--the mounted police. i had heard that sooner or later they always got a man. i was determined they would not get me. "at last, snow-fall warned me to prepare for winter. i was in this valley that day, and i've been here ever since. if i had ever got any pleasure from that stolen money, which i haven't, i would have paid for that pleasure a hundred times that first winter. fortune favored me in one thing: the caribou came by in great droves, and, before my ammunition was exhausted, i had secured plenty of meat. but at that, i came near dying before i learned that one who lives upon a strictly meat diet must measure carefully the proportions of lean and fat. someway, i learned. and somehow, starving, freezing, half-mad of lonesomeness, i got through the winter, but i am glad you did not see me when the first wild geese came north. if ever there was a wild man, dressed in skins and dancing in the sun, it was i." "but the wheat?" asked barney. "how did that happen?" "i am coming to that," smiled his host. "early that spring," he continued, passing his hand across his forehead, as if to brush away the memory of that terrible winter, "the indians came. they came from the dismal lake region. driven south by forest fires, they were starving. i had a little caribou meat and shared it with them; that made them my everlasting friends." "and you got the wheat from them?" interposed barney. "hardly. i doubt if they had ever seen a grain of wheat. "well, we lived together that summer. but i am getting ahead of my story. shortly before they arrived, i noticed some strange-looking caribou in the clearing. i had no ammunition, so could not shoot them. anyway, they were skin-poor and would be of little use to me. but they seemed strangely tame, coming close to my cabin at night. they were company, and i was careful not to frighten them away. one night, in the moonlight, i caught a glistening flash from the ear of the oldest doe. then, too, i noticed that one of them had unnaturally short antlers. a closer look told me that these antlers had been cut off. "then came the wonderful discovery: these were not caribou, but reindeer escaped from some herd in alaska. "right then i decided to capture and use them. i would put them in pound until their rightful owners came for them, which would be never." he smiled. "well, i tried making a lasso of caribou skin. for a long time i could not come near enough to reach them with the lasso. but one night, while they rested, i crept up to them and my lasso caught one by the antlers. then there was a battle, and all the while i was thinking that now i should have milk, butter and cheese, meat and clothing. and then there was a snap; the skin-rope broke and away went the reindeer--and my hopes. "i then hit on the plan of building a corral and driving them into it. this was a pretty big job for one man, but with trees lining both sides of a narrow run, where the deer went to drink, i managed to weave willow branches into the spruce trees and make a stout barrier. well--one morning, i found myself with six reindeer in pound--a bull, three does, a yearling and an old sled-deer. not long after, the herd was increased by four fawns. "by good luck, just at this time, the indians came. they were all for killing the reindeer, but i stopped that. we fed, as i said before, on my caribou meat, and then came the wild-fowl and the streams opened up for fishing. "it was fortunate that the indians came. they helped me to build corrals, big enough to give the reindeer plenty of pasturage and pretty soon they were fat and sleek." "pardon me," interrupted the major, "but were some of the reindeer white?" "two of them were milk-white. and now i have many of them running free in the forest." barney grinned, and bruce poked him in the ribs. "my ghost," he whispered. "the wheat," said the host, "was no great mystery, after all. the bank cashier had put into the money-sack two samples of wheat and one of beans which he wanted to have tried in this north country. i have tried them; with what luck, you can see. i don't need to fence my reindeer now, for in winter when the moss is buried deep under the snow i turn them in on stacks of wheat hay. finally when the indians went back north the following winter they left me a wife, as you see." he smiled toward his dusky mate, who was industriously scouring a copper griddle. there was silence for some time. then the major spoke: "the thing that interests me is how you manage to keep up your standards of neatness and cleanliness." "it is not so hard," said timmie. "i came of a good old scotch family. when i was a boy my mother taught me that 'cleanliness is next to godliness,' and i made up my mind that--well, that i would at least be clean. that was all there was left for me to be, you know." "i think you may call yourself both," said the major stoutly. "you have paid well for your mistake by twelve years of exile, and as for the money, we'll take that back with us." timmie smiled. "i'll be happy for the first time in twelve years when it's gone," he said. "i say, major," exclaimed bruce, "i've been thinking of those white reindeer. don't you suppose that solves the problem of peary's white reindeer?" there was a peculiar twinkle in the major's eye, as he asked: "how do you make that out?" "well, there had been reindeer in alaska for twenty-five years when peary discovered his on the eastern coast of our continent. there are many white ones among the domestic herds, and they are constantly wandering away, or being driven away, by packs of wolves. if they wandered this far, might they not easily have gone on to the other side of the continent?" "possibly. possibly," the twinkle in the major's eye grew brighter, but he said no more. presently he rose and stepped outside. "say!" exclaimed barney, "i feel like turning right around and going back." bruce knew that he was thinking of la vaune's money. "but we can't," he sighed. "it's not our plane nor our expedition. we're bound by agreement to go on. besides, there's no real need of going back. la vaune's all right for the winter. i arranged for her at my old college at brandon; she will attend the academy and help in the dining-room." "well, then," said barney, "i guess it's us for union-alls and at those engines." they were soon at their task. but, as bruce worked that day, he thought often of the mysterious twinkle he had seen in the major's gray eyes, as he spoke of the white reindeer. who was this major, anyway? and where were they going? the major alone could tell, and apparently he had no intention of doing so. chapter iii in the midst of the pack "i think," said the major, on the third morning after their strange landing, "that we would make a great mistake to set out again at this time. we are not likely to have the luck of our last landing a second time. then too, if we remain here until the lakes and rivers are frozen over, we can find a safe landing place every few miles. "and now," the major continued, stirring the fire thoughtfully, "now i think it would be right that i tell you something of the purpose of this journey." the boys leaned forward, eager for the story. "even now," he said slowly, "i do not feel like confiding to you what i may consider my great secret plans--plans for which this journey is but a trial-trip into the frozen north. that may follow in good time. but, as for this present journey, you are perhaps aware that an illegal wireless station has been operating somewhere in these woods and hills?" "yes--yes; we saw the offer of reward!" exclaimed barney. "the reward is a small matter," smiled the major. "should we be so fortunate as to capture the culprit, or be able to certify to his death, i will gladly turn over the reward to you boys." "thanks," said barney, who already had his share of the prize in his purse. "first i shall tell you the purpose of that wireless and why it is so important to locate it," the major went on. "it is one of the links in a chain around the world--a chain that threatens to bind civilization to a burning stake of sedition, anarchy and bloodshed. the operator is an anarchist, or, at least, belongs to an allied organization, and these, one and all, have for their purpose the destruction of the present order of things. now, there is not one of us but believes that there are many evils possible--yes, and put in operation under the present order, but we do not believe that matters are going to be bettered by a world-revolution. we believe that in time justice will come very much nearer being done under the old system; therefore, we are fighting to maintain it. that is why i volunteered to attempt to hunt out and if possible destroy this powerful wireless station, which is relaying revolutionary messages direct from russia to all important points in north america. my long experience in the north seemed to fit me for that task; and it is a task that i am determined to accomplish. "it is my theory that this wireless is located on the shores of great bear lake. in fact, i believe it is run by an independent trader operating at the east end of that lake, on conjurer's bay. a year ago he brought in a small electric plant, to light his trading post, he said. now this plant is capable of producing an almost unlimited amount of electrical power, provided only time is given. batteries of great power might easily be produced on the spot. chemicals for producing acids are found in abundance; so also are copper and zinc for the plate. all he would have to do then would be to make wooden boxes for the chemicals, erect his wires--he could string them from spruce poles--and the thing is done. it was impossible to reach the station by water after i had guessed its location, and there was of course the possibility that i was wrong, that it was nearer civilization. in that case i might be able to locate it, providing i made the trip by plane." "that explains why we circled three times during our first day's flight? you were looking--" "for the wireless tower," smiled the major. "and now," he went on, "i think we will just rest easy on our wings for a few weeks. you will get the engines in shape; take a few trial flights, if you wish, but be careful to conserve gasoline. we must have enough to carry us to great bear lake. there we will find a sufficient supply to carry us on any other journey we may decide on. the trader uses gasoline to run his electric plant and will have a supply. it will not be of very high test, but with two engines i think we will make it answer our purpose. if we find that my theory regarding the location of the tower is not correct, we will buy a supply from him, and if it _is_ correct--" he did not finish, but smiled and poked the fire again. "take it all in all," said barney to bruce some time later, "i think our trip promises to be dangerous enough to satisfy even a bloodthirsty young savage from the canadian army." "or a young cherokee from the wilds of boston commons," laughed bruce, heaving a wrench in the general direction of his companion. but, though they went about their work in a playful mood, they did it with great care. after they had taken the two little timmies for several rides, they declared the airship quite ready for further voyaging. "and as for gasoline," said bruce, "we still have two hundred and forty gallons in the tank which will give us a-plenty for the trip, and several hours to spare; but coming back--that's another matter." barney realized that this was, indeed, another matter, and, though he shared the major's hope of securing a supply at the trading station, his face grew grave at thought of being stranded more than a thousand miles from civilization at the beginning of winter, and with only a few days' supply of provisions. what if this trading station was one of those myths that float down from the north? or, what if it had been abandoned? barney shook himself free from these thoughts, and seizing his mandolin, went to join bruce and timmie on saxophone and rudely-devised indian kettledrums in a wild-woods symphony, while the children danced wild steps the boys had never seen. * * * * * "well, we're off!" barney said this, as he buckled on his harness and touched the starting lever. the wheels of the starting gear bumped over the thin-crusted snow and jolted through timmie's wheat stubble, then the great bird began to rise. winter had set in. now they glided over dark forests of spruce, and now swept above great stretches of barren lands. the air was biting cold. they were thankful enough for their face-protectors, their electric hand and foot warmers, their fur-lined leather union-alls. but best of all was the glorious freedom of it. soaring on and on over untrodden wildernesses, with no thought of dangers known and unknown, made them feel like explorers of a new world. the engines worked in perfect harmony. a gentle breeze from the south urged them on their way. the sun soon set and a long night began, but what of that? the moon and snow lighted the earth as if by day, and with a silvery glory. and now the northern lights began to flicker, flash and shoot across the sky. now they passed over a wide expanse of white, which they knew to be dismal lake. this was frozen over; then surely great bear lake, two hundred miles farther north, would be frozen, too. their safe landing would be assured. but as they neared their goal the boys' minds could scarcely escape misgivings. if the major's suppositions were correct; if, indeed, this trader was the hired agent of a fanatical clan, would he not be armed and on the alert? would he not, perhaps, have indians and half-breeds hired to help guard his secret? they were but three. the enemy might number a score. as barney thought of all this, he was thankful for one thing: by some strange chance, a small machine-gun and two thousand rounds of ammunition had been shipped north with the plane. their first thought had been to leave this behind, but after a discussion, they had decided to bring it; and there it was now, hanging in its swivel before him. in an emergency there remained but to load it and go into action. but it was quite an unexpected emergency that soon made him bless that bit of equipment. they were now well into the arctic. the air cut like a knife and chilled them to the marrow. barney began to long for warmth, food and sleep. he held his electric glove to the glass of the small clock before him. when the frost had thawed he noted the hour. "twelve o'clock! midnight!" he muttered. "and no landing in sight yet." there remained but to "carry on." but what was this? far to the north there showed a small, red ball of light. and it was not the aurora borealis! they were traveling fast. the ball of fire seemed to roll toward them along the earth at terrific speed, growing larger and more lurid. and now, beside it, wafting from it, like the tail to a comet, they could discern a swirling cloud, black in the moonlight. "it's a fire!" bruce gasped through his mouthpiece. "but what?--" began barney. just at that moment he caught the faint white line that marked the shore of great bear lake. they were, then, nearing their destination. tilting the plane upward, that they might get a better panorama of the region, and so direct their course, barney gave the great engine more gas. on they swept. presently the outlines of bays and frozen streams, of scrub forests and barren lands were plainly visible. a map under glass was just before him. brushing the frost from it, barney examined it by the light of a small electric bulb. then he looked away at the fire which was now clearly visible. his heart sank. the trading post was, indeed, a reality, or had been. at the present moment it was a ball of fire. "it's the trading post!" he barked to the major. "'fraid so," grumbled the major, hoarsely. "and the gasoline for our return--" "there it goes," sang bruce, with a note of despair. at that instant the whole ball of fire seemed to rise in air to burst like some gigantic rocket. there was no question in the boys' minds but that the supply of gasoline had been reached by the flames. after the great flash came blackness. the fire seemed for a time to have been extinguished. gradually here and there, far below, bits of burning tinder gleamed, fiery stars in an inverted heaven. soon the ruins were again blazing. they soared close, but high, avoiding the dangerous pockets of smoke gas. did they see dark figures dancing about the ruins? or was it merely the flickering shadows of posts and tree stumps. "indians!" murmured barney. instantly his mind mirrored to him pictures he had seen in histories of painted savages burning a settler's cabin. his blood ran cold. here they were, three men in the frozen wilderness, with little gasoline for their machine, with scant provisions and ammunition, and rushing toward perils they could not even guess. to kill and to escape would both be easy for these desperadoes. "go along down the lake and back again. use as little gas as possible, but keep in the air. we better not land at present." the very steadiness of the major's tone told barney that this experienced man of the north expected the worst. as they rushed down the white expanse, many thoughts raced through barney's mind. it seemed that hunger and cold grew upon him with every whirl of the engine-shaft. he thought of bruce and la vaune. would they ever return to la vaune with the money which was rightfully hers? and timmie? would they ever be able to help him blot the stain from his name? barney's friend, dave tower, who had gone north in a submarine on a mission as mysterious as their own; would they ever meet? they had now turned and were making their way slowly back. the fire had burned down to a dull red glow. the forest about had escaped the flames, and this was fortunate. should the indians leave them unmolested, they might possibly find a means of sustaining life by hunting and trapping. "when we get to the bay, might as well land," grumbled the major. "it's mighty tough up here!" barney assured him that it certainly was tough. he was glad they were to land, being very sure that if an indian did shoot him he would not feel it, so thoroughly benumbed was he with cold. then, suddenly, he gave a cry of surprise. they were nearing a point where conjurer's bay should appear. instead of the bay he saw what appeared to be merely a broad shoulder of frozen water, and beyond that, perhaps two miles, was a small lake lined by the forest. it was on the edge of this small lake that the fire smouldered. the boy rubbed his eyes, then looked again. had the cold benumbed his senses? was he seeing things? was he asleep and dreaming? apparently not, for from bruce through the receiver came a groan, then; "what's happened? the whole shape of the lake has changed within an hour!" barney shut off the engines. in the welcome silence which followed, as they drifted downward in a slow spiral, not a man spoke. their eyes were focused upon the earth. but now there came to their ears a sound like the distant rush of many waters. this grew rapidly louder, and finally divided itself into rattling and snapping sounds. presently the major let out a roar of laughter. "caribou!" he exploded. "they pass south from the barren lands in herds of hundreds of thousands, so thick they look like land! tip her nose up for another circle. see! there is the end of the herd away there in the distance. we'll be able to land where they have passed in fifteen minutes, an ideal landing-place--tramped hard." with a grin barney obeyed orders, and, as his engines began to revolve, felt himself shooting skyward. "now it's clear," roared the major. barney did not respond on the instant. he was thinking of something he had read about the "camp-followers of the barren-ground caribou." a chill not of the wind and cold crept into his heart. but what was to be done? he felt that another hour aloft would so benumb his senses that a crash would be inevitable. to land at a point other than that trampled by the caribou involved great risk, for there was undoubtedly a thick coating of drifted snow on the lake's surface. so he stopped the engines and they spiraled once more toward the earth. now they were nearing the surface of the lake. the distance was a thousand feet; now eight hundred. did he see shadows flitting across the ice? at five hundred feet he was sure that he did. he said nothing. so intent on landing was he that no risk seemed too great. at three hundred feet he saw them distinctly--gray streaks scooting across the trodden snow or resting on haunches, their shadows stretching before them. "great scott!" he muttered, "must be hundreds of them! oh well, they're cowards!" he tilted the machine for the final glide. there came a sudden exclamation from the major, then from bruce. they, too, had seen. it was too late now, for their landing wheels were almost touching the surface as they glided on. and now, strangely enough, some of the gray streaks began to chase the plane. as if imagining it a bird with flesh to eat and bones to gnaw, they came on. then, all at once, barney realized what they followed--the scent of fresh meat. timmie had killed a reindeer in honor of their departure and had presented them with a hind-quarter. this was now roped on the fuselage behind the major. they would have a fight. he knew that now. he thought of their weapons--two rifles. they were almost useless against five hundred gaunt, hungry wolves. and they were gaunt; he could see that as he flew by them. evidently camp-following this year had not given them an over-abundant supply of food. the season's calves were fleet and strong by now, and every herd had its thousands of antlered bulls that formed bristling hedges to defend their own. bump! the plane struck the ice and bounded, then struck again. barney's mind was now working fast. yes, there were other weapons--the oxy-acetylene torch--yes, the machine-gun. he shouted to bruce to get the torch, and, as soon as the plane slowed down, freed his hands from his gloves and began fumbling at the gun before him. the major was unstrapping the two rifles. the wolf-pack was crowding around in a grinning circle. barney caught his breath as his eyes swept the circle. five hundred if one, dripping-jawed, red-eyed, gray creatures-of-prey, they waited, as ever, for the coward's chance to fight with great odds in their favor. "don't shoot until forced to," said bruce, turning to the major. "if you do you may bring the whole pack down upon us." in this emergency, bruce took the lead, and, assuredly, that was the wise plan; for, reared as he had been in the forests and plains of the northland, he knew wolves. just now he was dragging from their hiding-place in the fuselage two iron tubes, perhaps eighteen inches long and six in diameter. one tube contained oxygen, the other acetylene gas. the tubes were connected by a set of registering valves. to these, in turn, was fastened a wire-wound rubber hose with a long brass nozzle. once the valves were turned, the acetylene gas forced out by a pressure of a thousand pounds and united with oxygen as an accelerator would produce a shooting flame that burned metals as if they were sun-dried pulp. the machine stopped and the pack crowded in. with an electric flash lamp in one hand and the rubber hose in the other, bruce stood watching. with aching, clumsy fingers and bleared eyes, barney worked on the machine-gun that, with oil fairly frozen in its parts, seemed about to refuse to respond. "hurry!" exclaimed bruce, as a gaunt form with patches of brown, and double nose, telling of mixed blood, sprang forward, eager to drag the fresh meat from the fuselage. instead of firing, the major beat the beast over the head, and with a snarl he resumed his place in the ever-narrowing circle. and now the time for concerted action on the part of the pack seemed to have come; for, with one savage snarl, the first row rushed straight on. there came a flash, then the hiss of a white-tongued fiery serpent. as the first wolf reared on his haunches, the smell of burning hair and roasting flesh halted the half-maddened pack, and, falling over one another, again they retreated. it was a tense moment. slapping his hands to warm them, barney adjusted cartridges and swept the circle with an imaginary volley. what if the machine-gun jammed? there could be but one result. the torch would not long hold the beasts off. besides, the gas would not last. "well, shoot if you can!" exclaimed bruce. "this gas is precious stuff. we can't waste it." at that, there came the staccato music of the machine-gun. with steady eye barney swept the inner circle. they went down like grain before a gale. with strange wild snarls they bit at their wounds, at one another, at the snow. the gun swept again with its merciless fire. the furthermost members of the pack began to slink away. then as barney raised his gun and sent a rain of bullets pattering about them, the whole snarling pack fled in yelping confusion. the battle was won. bruce cut off the gas. barney ceased his fire. the major, loosing his harness, stood up and stretched himself. then they looked at one another and laughed. "some fight!" exclaimed barney. "some fight!" agreed bruce. "some fight!" reechoed the major. "and the next thing is to put the injured out of their misery. after that we must skin 'em and make a cache for the meat." "meat?" the boys questioned. "sure," smiled the major. "wolf meat isn't bad at all. you perhaps forget that we have not a hundred miles of gas in the tank. we may be here quite some time!" chapter iv a modern battle with criminals when dave tower, barney menter's one-time pal, received the letter suggesting a bit of "jazz" somewhere within the arctic circle, he was on twelve-hour shore leave. they were to start on that mysterious subsea journey at high-tide next day. he grinned as he showed the note to ensign blake, his commander. then he went around the corner and purchased a second-hand guitar and an oboe. "look!" he exclaimed, pointing to a pair of battered kettledrums in the corner. "there's the original pair--made by the adam and eve of the south sea islands, or wherever kettledrums originated. i'll buy 'em and teach some gob to drum. we'll have a whole band when we arrive." a few hours later found them aboard the snug, shapely hull of u boat n. of the u.s.a. submarine fleet. the sub was a small one, patterned after the most recent british model, known as the "k" class. fleet as a flying-fish, she made twenty-two knots on the surface and ten knots when submerged. she presented a rather odd appearance, having a short, square funnel, which was swung over into a recess in the deck when the craft submerged. her gun and torpedoes had been removed. the weight of those had been replaced by an additional supply of oil and by quantities of provisions. the provisions, together with bales of skin clothing, were packed into every available space. she made splendid progress as she left the harbor and wound her way in and out among the islands of puget sound, to emerge finally round cape flattery and strike away into the open sea. it became evident at once that this was no coastwise journey. further than that, not even ensign blake knew its purpose. the sub was registered at the navy-yard as "off on detached duty." the crew of ten men were all volunteers for the trip. the expedition was under the direction of a doctor. a man past middle age, he sat in a wicker chair below, smoking innumerable cigars and saying nothing. "far's i can dope it out," blake said to dave, "the old fellow did some good service for the government during the war. he's had plenty of experience in the north; has some theories he wants to work out about subs and the arctic. the government has some little trick they want pulled off up in that north country. the doctor volunteers to lead the expedition, and here we are!" "but what do you suppose--" "don't suppose a thing," said blake, gazing astern at the last fading bit of land. "there's a lot of things that might be; but like as not none of my guesses is correct." "let's hear you guess." "well, first, you know, uncle sam has some valuable seal islands in the aleutian group. maybe, during the war the japs or russians have got careless about drifting around that way and carrying off a few hundred skins. might be, you know. "but i'm not saying that's it. a sub would be a mighty fine craft for watching that sort of game, though. and then, there's another thing i've thought of. there's gold in russia, on the kamchatkan peninsula; you know that, don't you?" "no." dave opened his eyes wide in surprise. "heaps of it. tons and tons! just waiting for the digging. and before we went into the war, when russia was still with the allies and needed money, our government, or independent capitalists, i don't know which, furnished the russians a lot of machinery for mining the gold; about a million dollars' worth, i guess. then came the revolution in russia. i doubt if a cent has been realized from the sale of machinery. who's in possession of that peninsula at the present time? god alone knows. japan would like to meddle there, i'm sure. perhaps we're being sent up there to conduct an investigation. "those are my two guesses. take 'em for what they're worth." "you don't think," said dave, "that we'd attempt the pole?" the ensign was silent for a time. "no," he said at last, "i don't. of course, stefansson has said that a 'sub' is the most practical way to go there; that ice-floes are never more than ten feet thick and twenty-five miles wide, and all that; but there are too many unsettled problems relating to such a trip." "but say!" exclaimed dave, "who is this doctor of ours, anyway?" "blamed if i know," said blake, as he turned away to go below. "well, anyhow," dave remarked, "whoever he is, he's going to take us where the white ice-floes are drifting. look at the color of this craft; blue-white, like the ice itself." the journey north, save for a storm, which they avoided by submerging, was uneventful until they found themselves in the company of scattered ice-cakes with the snow-capped ridges of the aleutian islands looming up before them. in no time at all every man on the craft realized that on these islands was to be found one of the objects of their quest; for, once they had sighted the shores, the funnel was dropped, electric power applied, and watchers, dressed in white to match the color of the craft, set to scan the shores for signs of life. they stole through the water like some ghost craft. "believe it's that seal-fishery business?" asked dave, as he and the ensign took their watch. "no." dave was certain from the tone that the doctor had confided his secret to the ensign. he asked no more questions. so they drifted on. the wind had dropped. the swell rolled their craft as it plowed along. here and there a sea-lion thrust its ugly head from the water. twice a seal attempted to climb upon the slippery hull for a rest, but, to the amusement of the boys, slid back into the water. an offer to assist the third one was not appreciated, and the ridiculously human-like head disappeared beneath the water with great alacrity. dave had been searching the hills with his binoculars for some time when he suddenly gave the glass to the ensign. "what's that tangle above the cliffs there?" he asked. the ensign studied the cliffs for some time. then he touched a button with his foot and they turned silently shoreward. "that's it!" he said with an air of finality. "what?" asked dave eagerly. "the wireless." then the ensign explained to dave the purpose of their journey. they had been sent into the arctic to locate a wireless station, supposed to be placed in the aleutian islands; a station run by radical propagandists, part of a world-federation, which proposed to wreck all organized society. had dave realized that the missions of sub and airplane were alike he would have been startled. as it was, his face took on a tense, expectant look, his cheeks burned hot with excitement. the doctor was called to the conning-tower. after studying the contour of the island for some time, he said: "their shack, built of rocks and driftwood logs, is at the base of the cliff. that is good. we will divide into two parties. four of us will go up the cliff and get above them, while four others will skirt the cliff and, under cover, await my signal. our supporting party will take ropes, rifles and a machine-gun. i will go with the party to the top of the cliff. we will carry only rifles and some special instruments of attack which i have stored in canvas sacks below. two men must remain on board. head in close to those rocks before us. they are out of sight of the shack and there is ice stranded there--a straggler will scarcely tell our craft from it. i have no doubt there are a number of them and that they are hardy ruffians. we must proceed with great care. "hark!" he put his hand to his ear. "they are sending messages now. "in the future," continued the doctor, as he handed dave two strange-looking spheres, the size of a man's head, "the work of sheriffs, policemen and other officers of the law is not going to be quite so hazardous. when a criminal runs amuck, he will not kill a half-score of brave men before he is captured. the officers of the law will do what we will soon be doing, and a child can do the rest. only," he continued, "watch your step going up that hill. it doesn't take much of a bump to get one of these funny little balls excited." dave had been detailed to assist the doctor. ensign blake would lead the supporting party around the cliff, there to await the doctor's signals. besides the sack in which dave carried the large spheres, there was another carried by a seaman. this one gave forth a metallic clinking, as if it were full of iron eggs. with the doctor and the other seaman carrying two rifles each, the four men made their way slowly around the rocky hillside and were soon advancing silently, single-file, up the surface of one of those perpetual snow-banks for which the islands are noted. the rocks above were much larger than they had seemed from the sub. twice, as he climbed over them, dave's foot slipped and each time his heart was in his mouth. one stumbling misstep and all might be over for him. but he had the clear, cool head of a clean boy who had lived right, and an appreciation of the joy of living, which would take him far and keep him safe through many an adventure. so, safely, they reached the top of the cliff. the doctor motioned dave to come back with him to a box-like edge of rock, which would give them a view of what lay some three hundred feet below. all was still. the moon, a great yellow ball, floated in the sky above and in the sea beneath. a lone sea-gull, awakened by the supporting party, sailed screaming away. not a move, not a sound was to be detected below. yet there, in a rocky cavern, were a number of world-criminals, and behind some crag were three jackies and their commander. soon all this would be changed. fighting, perhaps death, would end the quiet of that arctic scene. dave's hand trembled with excitement as he arranged the two sacks beside the doctor. even the doctor's hand shook as he opened one sack and drew forth a number of small iron objects, the size and shape of a bicycle handle-bar grip. his face grew stern. "understand mill's grenades?" he asked. "yes." "all right. when i say 'go' drop ten of these as fast as you can release the pins. drop 'em on their shack." dave's heart thumped violently. he had thrown mill's grenades at manikin "enemies," but never had he hurled them where human flesh was the target. slowly, mechanically, he arranged the ten grenades in a row. "go!" the word sang in his ears. ten seconds later from below came two sharp reports--his grenade and the doctor's. they were off together. crash followed crash in quick succession until the row was finished. silence followed for a single second. then came the cries and curses of men, as they staggered from their half-demolished shelter and began to scatter. dave's heart thumped. there were fifteen, at least. "now!" exclaimed the doctor, and lifting one of the large spheres he dropped it over the ledge's edge. just as that instance dave saw one of the rascals raise his rifle and fire. immediately there came a cry of distress. dave thought he recognized the voice and a lump rose in his throat. but now there came a dull muffled explosion--the strange bomb. instantly the men below began acting like madmen. throwing away their rifles, they staggered about, tearing at their eyes, their throats, their clothing, and uttering wild cries of distress. at the same time three automatic pistols cracked, and dave knew the doctor had given his signal. to his surprise, he saw the three jackies emerge from hiding wearing gas masks. quickly they overpowered the wild men, tied them and carried them around a point of land. as they did this the doctor and his band kept guard above, rifles ready for any man who might, by some chance, recover sufficiently from the gas to shoot. but none did. "it won't do them the least bit of harm," the doctor said, as he noticed the look of surprise on dave's face. "it's only chlorpicrin--a tear gas. it comes in liquid form, so must be associated with an explosive which transforms it into a gas and scatters it. you will see that our men are carrying them out of it as soon as they have them secured. it's a safe and harmless way of handling criminals. the war taught us that." "but the ensign?" exclaimed dave, as he saw the last ruffian in the hands of the jackies. "something must have happened to him," said the doctor rising hastily. "there was a shot," dave reminded him. together they hastily made their way down the rough hillside. slipping, sliding, falling, to rise again, they came to the lower surface and hurried around the point where the prisoners had been carried. a strange scene awaited them. sixteen men lying in a row, all tightly bound. and what a motley crew they were--japs, russians, mexicans, greeks, and even americans, they had gathered here for a common purpose. but it is doubtful if one of them could have told what the next step would be, should their first task be accomplished. off to one side, lay ensign blake, white and still. one of the seamen was bending over him. "got an ugly one in the chest," he said simply. "think we can save him?" the doctor bent over, and tearing away blake's garments, made a thorough examination. "he'll pull through," he said. "but we must get him to the mission hospital at unalaska at once. begin throwing those rascals aboard. there's a prison there for their accommodation." at that moment the two other jackies appeared, carrying a moaning burden in the shape of a jap radical. "one's done in for good," the foremost man explained. "we searched the ruins. maybe we can save this fellow." "take him aboard," said the doctor. then, turning, he directed the men who carried their fallen commander to the craft. * * * * * "well, that about ends our present career in the arctic." the doctor was speaking to dave, and emphasized his word with a sigh. "i had hoped we might do something really big, but blake will not be out again this season. he'll get around again all right, but it's a slow process." dave sat thinking. suddenly he jumped to his feet. "doctor," he said eagerly, "there's a gob on board who is sure a wonder at navigation. don't you think--think, he and i might manage the sub for you--your trip?" "h--m." the doctor grew thoughtful, but a flash of hope gleamed in his eye. "tell you what," he said presently, "there's a considerable ice-floe between the islands; the north wind brought it down last night. have your crew ready for a try-out in the morning." with a heart that ached from pure joy of anticipation, dave hurried to an ancient sealer's bunk-house where his men were housed. "a try-out, try-out, try-out," kept ringing in his ears. what did it mean if they were successful? something big, wonderful, he was sure. russian gold? charting northeast passage? north pole? he did not know, but nothing seemed too difficult for his daring young heart. and the next day the try-out came. and such an ordeal as it was! gobs had surely never been put to a test like that in any navy-yard training station! for five long hours they dived and rose and dived again. they rose suddenly, rose slowly; they tipped, glided, shot through the water. they passed for miles beneath the ice-floe, to emerge at last and bump a cake, or lift themselves toward a dark spot not larger than the sub itself--a patch of open water in the midst of the floe. with mind all in a whirl, dave gave the final command to make for port. it had been a great day. that night, after "chow," the doctor called dave into his room at the hospital. "young man," he said, motioning the boy to a seat, "you and your crew have surprised me beyond belief. i feel that we shall be risking little in attempting what, to many, might seem the most difficult task ever undertaken by a submarine. i do not yet feel free to tell you what that trip will be; you'll have to take that on faith. i can only tell you that we will proceed from here directly to nome, alaska. there we will get more oil and provisions. we will then sail through behring strait due north." for a time the two sat in silence. the doctor's face grew mellow, then sad at recollections of years that had gone. "i don't mind telling you," he said after awhile, "that i am an explorer, you almost might say 'by profession;' that some years ago another explorer and i sought the same goal. we went from different points; both claimed to have reached it. but he got the honors." "and you really reached--" "doesn't matter now what i did in the past," interrupted the doctor quickly. "what i am to do in the future is all that counts, and the immediate future is big with possibilities." "the crew will be with you to a man," dave assured him, as he rose to go. as he stepped into the cool night air, dave found that his face was hot with excitement. there was left in his mind not one doubt as to their final destination: it was to be a try for the pole. only one thought saddened him; that his good friend, blake, would not continue as one of the party. two days later they crossed over to the island of the illicit wireless station. they found the apparatus in perfect condition, and the doctor at once began sending messages. "i'm letting the world know of our purpose," he explained. "at least, trying to. sending messages by code to a friend of mine in chicago. hope seattle will pick it up, and if not, perhaps that radical operator who is supposed to be relaying messages to canada and the states from the north-central portion of the continent will catch it, and, thinking it one of his own messages in a new code, pass it on." had the doctor known what kind of radicals were in control of the station on great bear lake at that moment, perhaps he would have been more careful what messages he sent. "if you don't mind," said dave, "for the sake of my friends, and especially of my mother, i wish you'd include my name in the message." "it's already done," smiled the doctor. chapter v an infernal machine when bruce, barney and the major found themselves stranded on the shore of a vast frozen lake at the beginning of an arctic winter, they at once took steps to conserve all resources. building a cache between three scrub spruce trees, they piled upon it their wolf meat and skins. to barney the thought of eating "dog meat," as he called it, was most repulsive, but necessity gives man little choice in the arctic, so he munched his roast wolf's back that night in silence. but at the same time, he vowed that, sure as the caribou had not all passed, he would dine on caribou roast before long. once the cache was completed, they began scouting the woods near the ruins of the burned trading station. there they found plain signs of indians. a circle of beaten tracks made certain a pow-wow had been held there. "doesn't look very good to me," admitted the major. "these indians of the little sticks are a fierce and cruel people, full of superstitions, and living up to the old law of 'blood revenge.' there's only one thing in our favor: they have a superstition about a giant creature, known as the thunder-bird. the stories of this terrible bird are known to almost all indian tribes, but the little sticks believe them literally. from the tracks i should judge that they left in great haste. what could cause this fright, save the sound and sight of our plane hovering over them? since it is almost certain that they have never seen an airplane, it seems likely that they considered it to be old thunder-bird come to carry them off. if that is true, i shall not look for them back in a hurry." "what puzzles me is, where's the remains of the fellow's generator and wireless?" said barney. "don't see anything down there in the ruins, do you?" instantly all eyes were turned toward the smouldering piles of ashes. "the place was wired all right," said the major, pointing to a mass of tangled lighting wire. "say! what's that out in the center?" exclaimed barney. "looks like the bones of a man?" "so it does," said the major, "and surely is. well, there can't be any further doubt about the rascal being burned in the ruins of his own house." then there came a shout from barney. he had been tracing out the masses of blackened wire. "look!" he exclaimed. "here's where the lead-wires go into the ground. must be a separate power-house. three lead-wires instead of two. what do you suppose that means?" he clipped the soft wires off with his heavy knife, and bent them apart to avoid short circuits; then, closely followed by the others, went plowing away through the snow to search out the point where the wires left the ground. they traced them through the scrub timber, and, almost at once, came upon a strange frame-like structure, ending in a tall pole, and having at its center a house built of logs. the whole affair was quite invisible outside the timber. "it's his wireless station," breathed the major. "no further doubt remains." he stepped to the door and found himself gazing into a well-arranged room--electric generator, storage batteries in rows and instruments of every description along the walls and the floor. but what caught bruce's eye was two rows of ten-gallon cans piled in the rear. with a cry of joy he sprang toward them. but his joyful look changed to an anxious one, as he lifted can after can and found it empty. only one contained gasoline, and that was but half-full. "not enough to give our thunder-bird a drink," he groaned disgustedly. "well, at any rate," said the major, "we've found a place that won't make a bad shelter from arctic blizzards. i suggest that we bring the plane up to the edge of the woods nearest this point and camp here." "what's that?" exclaimed bruce in a startled whisper, as he detected some noise outside. he pushed the door open fearlessly, then laughed. there stood a dog. "not a bad find," said the major. "he may be a lot of help to us. and, look! there are four others! they're the trader's dogs. ran away when the place burned, i haven't a doubt. barney, run and get some wolf meat. we'll have a team at once. and we'll need it. can't move the plane without it." they were soon on good terms with the strange dogs. the major, who appeared to know all there was to know about arctic life, fashioned some eskimo style harness from wolfskin, and before many hours they had their plane by the edge of the woods, and were settled in their new home. that night, after they had enjoyed reindeer steak as a special treat, the major rather playfully put the receiving piece of the wireless over his head and clicked the machine. almost instantly, he exclaimed: "jove! i'm getting something! give me a note-book and pencil." for fifteen minutes he scratched strange dots and dashes across innumerable pages. at last he paused and removed the receiver. "guess that's about all for this time. let's see what we've got." three heads bent over the message. but, after hours of study, the only conclusion they could come to was that the message had been sent in a secret code, which they might never be able to decipher. "well," said the major, with a sigh. "station's closed for to-night. tell the gentleman to call again in the morning." at that he crept into his sleeping-bag and was soon snoring. the two boys gladly followed his example. barney made the first announcement in the morning. he was going caribou hunting. he had had quite enough "dog meat." bruce offered to go with him, but, on second thought, decided to try fishing through the ice. barney was soon lost in the wilderness of scrub spruce. but, though he hunted far, he found no fresh caribou tracks. it was on his return trip that he received the first surprise of the day. the wind was blowing fine snow along the surface and he found his out-going trail half-buried. then, suddenly, he came upon strange footprints. the person apparently had been going north, but upon seeing the white boy's track he had turned and retreated. the tracks were fresh and had been made by a heelless skin-shoe. "indian!" barney gasped. even as he spoke he caught the gleam of a camp-fire through the trees; then another and another. without a moment's delay barney started for the camp two miles away. he had reached the open space where the trading station had stood, had nearly crossed it, when out of the edge of the ruins there rose the form of a man, not an indian but a white man. barney's first thought was that it was bruce or the major. his second look brought action. he dropped flat behind some fire-blackened debris. the man wore a tomato-colored mackinaw, such as was not to be found in their outfit. whoever he was, his back was turned and he had not seen the boy. creeping a little forward, barney peered around the pile. what he saw set the cold chills chasing up his back. the man had torn two of the lead-wires from the frosted earth. slowly he placed their points together. in that instant the boy understood. he knew now the reason for the three wires leading to the power-house. two were for carrying light to the building. if the third one was connected with the right one of the lighting-wires, an infernal-machine would be set going, and the power-house, with all in it, would be blown to atoms. and, at this moment, bruce and the major were there. the man, whoever he was, had, since the wires were broken, found it necessary to test the pairs out. his first trial had been wrong. he was bending over for a second try when something struck him, bowling him over like a ten-pin. it was barney. the man was heavier than barney, and evidently older. he was fit, too. one thing barney had noticed--the gleam of an automatic in the man's hip-pocket. in his sudden attack he had managed to drag this out and drop it upon the snow. the struggle which followed was furious. holds were lost and won. blood flecked the snow, arms were wrenched and faces bruised. slowly, steadily, barney felt his strength leaving him. at last, with a gliding grip, the man's hand reached his throat. it was all over now. barney's senses reeled as the grip tightened. his lungs burned, his head seemed bursting. he was about to lose consciousness, when through his mind there flashed pictures of bruce and the major. he must! he must! with one last heroic effort, he threw the man half from him. then, faintly, far distant, there seemed to echo a shot, a single shot; then all sensation left him. when the boy felt himself coming back to consciousness, he hardly knew whether he was still in the land of the living. he dared not move or open his eyes. where was he? what of the stranger? the major and bruce; had they been blown into eternity? again and again these problems whirled through his dizzy mind. then all at once, he heard a voice. "i think he's coming 'round," someone, very far off, was saying. it was the gruff voice of the major. barney opened his eyes to find his companions bending over him. "what happened?" he asked weakly, his eyes searching their faces. "that's what we'd like to know," answered bruce; "we heard a shot, and hurrying out here found you unconscious beside a dead man." "dead?" barney sat up dizzily. "sure is. did you shoot him?" "shoot--i shoot--" the boy tried to steady his whirling brain. "no, i didn't shoot him." gradually the world ceased whirling about him and he was able to think clearly. then, together, they pieced out the story. barney told what had happened, and you may be very sure it was a sober pair that listened. "well, my boy," said the major solemnly, "we owe our lives to you; there's no doubt about that. as for him," he added, pointing to the dead man, "he must have rolled upon the automatic when you made your last effort, and accidentally discharged it. he has a bullet-hole in the back of his head where a pin-prick would have killed him. a case of pure providence, i'd call it." "let's get out of here," said barney, showing signs of weakness. "i've had quite enough of it." with an arm on either of his comrades' shoulders, he made his way back to the station, where a bowl of hot reindeer broth completely revived him. "the next thing," said bruce, "is to hunt out that infernal contraption which threatens our lives." it was a delicate and dangerous undertaking, but little by little, they traced out the wires and disconnected them. at last they found it in a small box which had been skillfully fitted into a beam. "innocent looking little thing," said bruce, holding it up for inspection. "to-morrow i am going to take it out to the lake, hook it up with a couple of batteries and see if it's got any kick." after a hearty meal, the three resumed their previous evening's occupation, attempting to decipher the strangely coded message. "here's a theory to try out," said bruce. "a message is usually composed of nearly an equal number of words of one to three letters and of those having more than three. these are likely to be used alternately. if then, you find two or three words of four or more letters, it's likely to be a name. the man, whoever he is, has signed only a code name, but there may be more names in the body of the message. look it over." "yes, here are two words together of five letters each," exclaimed barney. "think of names you know that are spelled with five letters," said bruce excitedly. instantly there came into barney's mind the name of his former pal. "there's dave tower," he said. "he'd sign it david, of course." "just fits," exclaimed bruce, more excited than ever. "and by all that's canadian, the first and last letters of the first name are the same, just as they are here. i believe we're on the right track." "but what would his pal have to do with it?" asked the astonished major. "he went north about the time we started." barney danced over the floor in his excitement. while the boys were too excited to do further deciphering, the major's cooler brain was busy. soon he rose and began pacing rapidly back and forth across the room. his face wore anything but a pleased expression, and his limp was greatly increased by his irritation. "did you get it?" asked barney. "i should say i did!" exclaimed the major. "right in the neck! and to think," he sputtered, "here we are without gasoline to carry us a hundred miles, and he starting with everything in his favor. if we just had gas for three hundred miles. there's plenty on the schooner, gussie brown. i called nome yesterday and found that out. but they can't bring it to us, and we can't go to them. we're stuck; stuck right here! and he's starting to-morrow!" the boys stared in speechless amazement, as the major, dropping into a chair, covered his face with his hands. it was many minutes before he was calm enough to tell them the simple truth of the matter, which was, of course, that the wireless message was that one sent by the doctor on the aleutian islands, telling of his intended journey northward; also that this same doctor was a hated rival explorer, whom he had beaten a few years before; that he had not intended going north at this time, but this action of his rival made it imperative that he do so now. finally, that the trading gasoline schooner, gussie brown, was frozen in the ice three hundred miles north of conjurer's bay and great bear lake, and had an ample supply of gasoline. "but after all, i guess we're beaten," said the major wearily. "if we succeed in getting out of this scrape alive we'll be fortunate." "cheer up! the worst is yet to come," smiled barney. "let's turn in." two interesting problems awaited the party in the morning. was the man who had been accidentally shot the night before the anarchist trader? if so, who was the person whose bones lay in the ruins? was the infernal-machine a genuine affair, and if so, would it explode? while the major was still brooding over his disappointment, the boys were so eager for these investigations that they quite forgot the affair of the wireless message. the identity of the dead man was soon established by papers found in his pockets. he was the trader. the skull found in the ruins was unmistakably that of an indian. a break in this skull showed that the person had died a violent death and had not been caught by the fire. the conclusion the boys arrived at was that the trader had killed the indian and had fled to the woods. the indians in revenge had burned his trading station. that he had intended to destroy the explorers was beyond question. he had, therefore, met a well-deserved fate. his body was buried, eskimo-style, on top of the ground, with stones piled over it to protect it from wolves. when this work had been completed, the two boys took the infernal-machine down to the frozen surface of the lake where there could be no danger from an explosion, and connected it with wires which they laid along the surface from the steep, snow-buried shore. "must be twenty feet of snow in there!" exclaimed bruce, as for the third time he lost his footing and slid to the bottom of the slope. presently they were well behind the ridge in the forest, and out of range of any flying splinters of machine or ice. "i feel as i used to when i was a schoolboy, and hid with the rest of the gang out in the woods and shot off charges of gunpowder in a gas-pipe bomb," grinned barney, as he screwed one wire to a post of a battery. "now we'll--" he exclaimed breathlessly. his last word was lost in the roar of a tremendous explosion. the shores of the bay took up the sound and sent it echoing and reechoing through the forest. fine bits of ice came rattling down through the trees, while a great cloud of smoke and mist floated lazily over their heads. "whew! some explosion!" murmured barney. bruce was silent. his face was white. "what's up?" asked barney. "nothing. i'm all right," bruce smiled grimly. "i was only thinking what might have happened yesterday." "forget it," grumbled barney. "c'mon, let's see the ruins." "fish!" exclaimed bruce, as they emerged from the forest. and assuredly there were fish in abundance. the thirty-foot wide pool, from which the ice had been blown, was white with them. there were salmon, salmon-trout, white-fish, lake-trout, flounders, and others the boys did not know. hundreds and hundreds of them, stunned by the explosion, floated on the surface only waiting to be harvested. "we'll have to work carefully," said barney, starting forward. "the ice is pretty well shattered. a plunge in that water, and the temperature at thirty below, wouldn't be pleasant, but i believe we can save every one of them. get a pole." he began cutting a large branch from a spruce tree. bruce followed his example. "now!" barney exclaimed, preparing to slide down the bank. but he paused in surprise. the snow-bank, shattered by the blast, had gone tumbling down to the surface of the lake. and what was that protruding above what remained of the snow? it was dark and v-shaped, like the gable of a roof. barney was for investigating at once, but bruce was more practical; the fish must be secured immediately. this food might yet stand between them and starvation. they were soon whipping the pool with their poles, and, as the fish came to the ice edge, they gathered them in. some were monsters, two or three feet in length. it was, indeed, a great haul. they piled them on the ice like cord-wood. already they were freezing; they would remain fresh for months. chapter vi the race is on "and now for the lakeside secret," exclaimed barney, tossing the last fish upon the pile, and throwing his frosty pole aside. eagerly bruce sprang to his feet. together they raced around the pool. clambering over the tumbled avalanches of snow, they were soon within sight of the strange triangle. barney's heart beat fast. what was it? could it be only a bit of bent timber lodged there on the log-roof of a long-abandoned indian shack? or was it--was it what he knew bruce hoped it might be--a supply-house for gasoline, or perhaps a motor-boat with a supply of gasoline on board? excitedly they attacked the piles of snow. lacking shovels, they worked with hands and feet. hope grew with every kick and scoop. this was no mere bit of timber, nor yet an abandoned shack; it was too recently built to leave a doubt about that. and now they had reached the top of the door. "i say we've found it," panted bruce, redoubling his efforts. "wait. don't hope too much," gasped barney, tossing aside snow like a dog burrowing for a rabbit. the door had a spring padlock on it. barney, hurrying to the lake for some pieces of ice, cracked the lock as he would a nut between stones. then, prying the door open a bit at the top, he tried to peer in. "dark," he muttered. "can't see a thing." breathlessly they resumed work. and now the door was free to the very bottom. it was bruce's turn. forcing the door open a foot, he took one good look, then let out a whoop. "gasoline!" he shouted. "bedons of it!" "may be empty," suggested barney. "i'll see," said bruce. an instant more, and having crowded himself through the narrow space, he struck a hundred-gallon steel bedon with his fist. no hollow sound came from it. "full," he exclaimed, and, the strain over, sank to the floor with a sigh of relief. the more hardy barney began to explore the place. to the back was a small gasoline launch, apparently in perfect condition. ranged along the right wall were the bedons, five of them, all full but one, and each containing a hundred gallons. "well," said barney, sitting on a bedon, and kicking his heels against its steel side, "now we can take the major to the moon, or any other did place he wishes to go; that is, if we want to." for a long time bruce was silent. now that the excitement was over he realized he was homesick. then, too, the dangers of yesterday had shaken his nerves. he was thinking, also, of la vaune working her way through the academy when money, much money, belonging to her lay idle; and of timmie, who awaited their return to assist him in the retrieving of his good name. but there came the after-thought: had it not been for the major's trust in him and in barney, none of these things would have been possible. yes, they owed a debt to the major and that debt must be paid. "and i guess we want to take him where he wants to go," said he, straightening up as he looked his friend in the eye. "good!" exclaimed barney. "i was going to leave it to you, but i knew you'd do it. it's the chance of our lives. i'm sure he means the pole--the north pole! think of it! and, then, there's the reward!" "guess we'd better squeeze out of here and go break the glad news," said bruce, "he's up there fairly eating his heart out." "the race is on," muttered barney, as they hurried up the bank. "the race is on," echoed the major, a few minutes later, as he walked the floor in high glee. "yes, sir, it is," said barney, "and a good clean race it will be if dave tower is skipper of that submarine. i never knew a squarer fellow." the major, limbering up his wireless instruments, sent a message snap-snapping across the frozen expanse. "what you doing?" asked barney. "just letting that foxy old rival of mine know i got his message and that i'm on the job," chuckled the major. "i'll get off other messages every three hours for a time." "would you mind mentioning my name in the message?" asked barney. "you see, i've got a date for a little jazz with dave up at the pole, and i'd like him to know i'm planning to keep the appointment." the major chuckled again, and included this in his message: "barney menter, pilot." the party at the aleutian station caught the major's second sending of the message. the doctor's face grew gray, as he realized its meaning. "great providence!" he exclaimed. "will he beat me again?" then striking the table with his fist. "he will not! we're crippled by the loss of an important member of our party. he has the swiftest conveyance, but it is not the surest. we will win! we start to-morrow. the race is on!" as for dave, he was more than glad at the prospect of meeting barney at the pole. he was confident that both expeditions would succeed. the only question in his optimistic young mind was, which would arrive first? if his trying could decide it, the sub would get there first. he and barney had been chums since boyhood, but they had been keen competitors in all their play, study and work. now their wits were once more fairly matched. "it's the army and the navy!" he exclaimed. "a fair, square race. and may the best one win." "i might say," remarked the doctor, "that there is a bountiful prize offered to the first person who next reaches the pole, and who brings back three witnesses who can make readings of latitude and longitude to testify to the facts. should we win, the prize will go to you and the crew." "i'll go tell them," said dave, donning his cap. a moment later the doctor heard cheers which sounded like: "rah! rah! rah for doctor! rah! rah! rah for the north pole!" the race was on! her secret service days over for the present, the "sub" had been given a coat of black paint. now, as she scudded through the dark waters of behring sea, dave, standing in the conning-tower, thought how much she must resemble a whale. during the war many a leviathan of the deep had met death because he resembled a submarine. now, in peace times, in this feeding ground of the greatest of all prey, the tables might be turned, the submarine taken for whale. the race was on. across behring sea they sped through foam-flecked waves and driving mists. pausing only a day at nome, they pushed on past port clarence, rounded cape prince of wales, and entered boldly into the great unknown, the arctic ocean. a million wild fowl, returning to the southland, shot away over their heads. here and there they saw little brown seals bob out of the water to stare at them. once they ran a race with a great white bear, and again they sighted a school of whales. they gave these a wide berth, for should they grow friendly and mix their great flippers with the sub's propeller, trouble would follow. walrus, too, were avoided, for they had a playful habit of bumping the under-surface of any craft they might chance to meet. at last, far to the north there appeared a glaring white line. they had reached the ice. their days of merry sailing on the surface were well-nigh over. from this time on life would be spent in stuffy, steel-lined, electric-lighted compartments. but for all that, it would not be so bad. openings in the floes would offer them opportunities to rise for a breath of fresh air, and dangers seemed few enough, since the ocean everywhere was deep, and ice-bergs, sinking dangerously to a great depth below the surface, were few. only the piles of ice and great six-foot-thick pans would make a white roof to the ocean, which was not without its advantage, for here the water would always be delightfully calm. shutting off the engines, dropping the funnel, closing the hatch, they sank quickly beneath the water's surface, and were soon passing below a marvelous panorama of lights and shadow. through the thick glass of the observation windows there flooded tints varying from pale-blue to ultramarine and deep purple. no sunset could vie with the color schemes that kaleidoscoped above them. here a great pile of ancient ice gave the whole a reddish tinge; and here a broad pan of transparent new ice cast down the deep-blue of the sky; and again a thicker floe admitted a light as mellow as expert decorators could have devised. "it's wonderful!" murmured the doctor. chapter vii a strange people ten hours after the start of the submarine, dave tower's eye anxiously watched the dial which indicated a rapidly lessening supply of oxygen, while his keenly appraising mind measured time in terms of oxygen supply. they were still scudding along beneath that continuous kaleidoscopic panorama of green and blue lights and shadows, but no one noticed the beauty of it now. all eyes were strained on the plate-glass windows above, and they looked but for one thing--a spot, black as night itself, which would mean open water above. "there it is to starboard!" exclaimed the doctor. careful backing and steering to starboard brought merely the disclosure that the doctor's eye-strain had developed to the point where it produced optical illusions. the oxygen was all this time dwindling. to avoid further waste of time, dave told his first mate to close his eyes for three minutes while he kept watch, then to open them and "spell" him at the watch. "straight ahead! quick!" muttered the mate, as the dial hung fluttering at zero. seizing a lever here and there, watching this gauge, then that one, dave sent the craft slanting upward. like some dark sea monster seeking air, the "sub" shot toward the opening. and now--now the prow tilted through space. another lever and another, and she balanced for a second on the surface. for a second only, then came a crash. too much eagerness, too great haste, had sent the conning-tower against the solid six-foot floe. with lips straight and white dave grasped two levers at once. the craft shot backward. there followed a sickening grind which could only tell of interference with the propeller. too quick a reverse had sent it against the ice astern. shutting off all power, dave allowed her to rise silently to the surface. then, as silently, one member of the crew opened the hatch and they all filed out. "propeller's still there," breathed one of the gobs in relief. "'fraid that won't help," said dave. "jarvis," he said, turning to the engineer, "go below and start her up at lowest speed." in a moment there followed a jangling grind. the engineer reappeared. "as i feared, sir," he reported. "it's the shaft, sir. she'll have to go to shore for repairs. only a hot fire and heavy hammering can fix her. can't be done on board or on the ice." "ashore!" dave rubbed his forehead, pulled his forelock, and tried to imagine which way land might be after ten hours of travel in the uncharted waters of the great arctic sea. "i'll leave it to you, jarvis," he smiled. "if you can locate land, and show us how to get there across these piles of ice with a disabled submarine, you shall have a medal from the national geographic society." the engineer was not a gob, strictly speaking. he was an old english seaman, who had often sailed the arctic in a whaler. now he went below with the words: "i'll find the nearest land, right enough, me lad; but as to gittin' there, that's quite another matter." thereafter the engineer might be seen from time to time dashing up the hatchway to take an observation, then back to the chart-table, where he examined first this chart, then that one. some of the charts were new, just from the hands of the hydrographic bureau. these belonged to the craft. others were soiled and torn; patched here and there, or reinforced by cloth from a discarded shirt. these belonged to jarvis, himself; had been with him on many a journey and were now most often consulted. "near's h'i can make it, sir," he said, at last, "we're some two hundred miles from point hope on the alaska shores and a bit farther from a point on the russian shore, which the natives call on-na-tak, though what the place is like h'i can't say, never 'aving been there. far's h'i know, no white man's been there, h'either; leastwise, not in our generation." he studied the charts and made one further observation: "far's h'i can tell, sir," he smiled, "on-na-tak's h'our only chance. current sets that way h'at three knots an hour. that means we'll drift there in four or five days. there'll be driftwood on the beach, and, with good luck, we can fix 'er up there. mayhap there's coal in the banks by the sea, and that's greater luck for us if there is." the doctor, who had sat all this time in silence, smoking his black cigars, now rose and began pacing the deck. "four or five days? four or five, did you say? great creation! that will mean the losing of the race!" jarvis nodded his head. "h'anything less would mean that and more," said the old engineer. "going down with such a shaft would mean death to all of us." the doctor sighed. "we can't help it, i suppose--but it's a cruel blow." "there's many a break in a long airplane voyage anywhere," he consoled himself, "and i think the chances for accidents in the arctic are about trebled. i don't wish our rivals any fatal catastrophe, but a little tough luck--say a wing demolished; or an engine burned out--might not be so much to my displeasure." the days that followed were spent in various ways. hunting seals and polar bears was something of an out-the-way pleasure for seafaring men. then there were checkers and cards, besides the daily guess as to their position at noon. strangely enough, for once in the history of arctic currents, they found themselves being carried where they wanted to go, in a direct line for point on-na-tak, and during the entire four days and a half there was hardly a point's deviation from the course. on the evening of the fourth day, dave thought he sighted land, and the midnight watch reported definitely that there was land to the port bow; two points, one more easily discerned than the other. this news brought the whole crew on deck. and for two hours there was wild speculation as to the nature of the country ahead of them; the possibility of inhabitants and their treatment of strangers. azazruk, the eskimo, thought that he had heard from an old man of his tribe that the point was inhabited by a people who spoke a different language from that spoken by the chukches of east cape and whaling, on the russian side of behring strait. but of this he could not be sure. if the old engineer knew anything of these shores other than the facts he had already stated concerning wood and coal, he did not venture to say. and no one asked. so they drifted on until the bleak, snow-capped peaks showed plainly. morning revealed a bay lying between the two points. toward the entrance to this bay they were drifting. one obstacle remained between them and land. a half mile of the floe in which they were drifting lay between them and the black stretch of open water which extended to the edge of the solid shore ice, upon which the submarine might be dragged and over which the shaft might be carried to land. but how was that stretch of tumbled icefloe to be crossed? this, indeed, was a problem. it was finally decided that dave and the old engineer should spend the forenoon exploring the ice to landward for a possible narrow channel that would open a way to the water beyond. for this journey they took only field-glasses, alpine staffs and a lunch in a sealskin sack. had they known better the nature of the land they were about to visit, they might have gone more fully equipped. "h'i don't mind tell' y', lad, that we was 'eaded for this point way back some'ers in the late nineties," said the engineer, "but there come a nor'wester, an' the cap'in, 'e lost 'is 'ead and turned to run. we'd froze in for the winter, but we'd a seen things if we 'ad. we'd a seen 'um." they were struggling over some pressure ridges and neither had breath to spare for further talk just then. but presently, as they paused on a high ridge of ice for a survey of their surroundings, jarvis said: "h'i said back there they might be coal in the banks. there is, an' other minerals there are 'ere, too. h'it's a rich land, an' now we're 'ere we'd make our fortunes if that daffy doctor wasn't 'eaded straight fer the pole, an' nobody 'ere to stop 'im." "what do you make of it?" dave, who had been studying the shore with the glass, handed it to jarvis: "do you see something like a village?" "sure i do!" exclaimed the other excitedly. "sure, there's a village, a 'ole 'eap of bloomin' 'eathen live up 'ere, h'only they hain't dull and stupid like them down below." "it's a strange-looking village." "sure, it is. made all of reindeer skins and walrus pelts. sure it's different. them natives up 'ere 'ave got reindeer, 'erds and 'erds of 'em." "i suppose they've got walrus ivory, too," said dave, warming to the subject. "ho, yes, walrus h'ivory a-plenty, them 'eathen 'ave got. but walrus h'ivory hain't so much. too 'eavy to make a good cargo, an' not 'alf so good as h'elephant h'ivory. but there's minerals, 'eaps of minerals, an' we'd all be rich men an' it wasn't for the bloomin' doctor." no channel to the shore having appeared, they were now making their way along the edge of the open water. suddenly the old engineer started: "did you see 'im?" he whispered. "what? where?" dave stared at the old man, thinking he had suddenly lost his head. "h'it was a man. 'e popped 'is 'ead out, then beat it. one o' them bloomin' 'eathens." "probably we'd better turn back." "huh!" sniffed the old man. "'oo cares for the bloomin' 'eathen? 'armless they is, 'armless as babies." they continued their travel, but the old man seemed distinctly uneasy. he saw heads here and there. and soon, dave, who did not have the trained eye of the seaman, saw one also. at once he decided that they must turn back to the submarine. hardly had they taken this course, when heads seemed to be peering out at them from every ice-pile. it was when they were crossing a broad, flat pan that matters came to a crisis. suddenly brown, fur-clad figures emerged from the piles at the edge of the pan and approached them. their soft, rawhide boots made no sound on the ice. their lips were ominously silent. there was a sinister gleam to the spears which they bore. half-way to the men, at a sign from the leader, they all paused. then a little knot gathered about the leader. three men did the greater part of the talking. they appeared to be urging the leader to action. dave, who knew that the old seaman was acquainted with several native dialects, said: "what do you make of it?" "can't get 'em straight," said jarvis. "but them three 'eathen that's talkin' loudest, them's 'eathen from another tribe 'er somethin'. they're not the right color. their eyes hain't right an' they don't speak the language right. i think they got it in their 'eads that we h'ought ter be pinched fer trespassin' 'er somethin' the like. but we'll fight the bloomin' 'eathen, we will, h'if they start a bloomin' rumpus." "what with?" smiled dave. the old seaman looked nonplused for a moment. "ho, well," he grinned, then. "can't be any 'arm in goin' with the bloomin' idgits a piece, h'if they request it." the horde of natives did, at last, request it in a rather forceful and threatening way. the three men, whom jarvis had singled out as "'eathen from another tribe," became so insulting that dave could scarcely restrain jarvis from braining their leader on the spot. they were led to the edge of the ice-floe where, hidden in a remote corner, was an oomiak, a native boat of skins. from here they were quickly paddled over to the shore. they were then led up a steep bank, down a street lined with innumerable dome-like houses covered with walrus-skin, and were finally dragged into the largest of these houses and rudely thrust into an inner room. the door slammed, and jarvis laughed. "humph!" he chuckled. "fancy putting a man in a bloomin' jail made of deer skin. much 'ead as the bloomin' 'eathen 'ave. let's 'ave a look at 'er." he scratched a match and the look of astonishment that dave found on his face, as he stared about the inclosure, caused him to laugh, in spite of their dilemma. "h'ivory, walrus h'ivory! walls, floor and ceilin' all h'ivory. who'd ever thought of that!" muttered the old seaman. "wood'll burn and iron'll rust; but h'ivory! h'ivory! who'd ever thought of that for a prison?" chapter viii the walrus hunt meanwhile, on the ice-locked shores of great bear lake, preparations for departure were being made by the airplane party. the gasoline must all be strained through a chamois-skin to insure them against water in the engines, and this, with the temperature at thirty to forty below, was no mean task. there was a careful selection of foodstuffs to be taken along. it was decided also that the five dogs should go, for they would provide transportation, in case of accident, and could be killed and eaten as a last resort. the entire equipment was given a thorough overhauling. all this took three days of arduous toil. when, at last, all was in readiness, and the earth began to drop away beneath them, the dogs put their noses in the air and chorused a canine arctic dirge. but their howls were lost in the noise of the engines. as for the boys, their cheeks burned. truly, this was to be their greatest adventure--"an adventure quite worthy the heart of a true soldier," as the major had expressed it. many problems they left behind unsolved, but these were quite crowded out of their minds by the one supreme problem: would they reach the pole, and would they reach it first? somewhere on the shores of melville bay, near the banks of melville island, frozen in the ice for the winter, was the little gasoline schooner which had engaged to furnish them fuel for the last lap of the journey north and the return. the gas would cost a pretty penny, to be sure, for it would compel the trader to return to nome earlier than he had intended doing, but money seemed no object to the zealous explorer. setting their course a little east of north, they shot directly away. bruce, who was driving, settled back easily in his place. the machine was soaring beautifully. the engines worked in perfect time. everything promised a safe and speedy trip. now and again a belated flock of snow-geese, as if drawn by an invisible thread, shot by them; and now, far below, they caught sight of moving brown specks, which told of caribou still passing southward from the summer pasture in the unexplored lands far to the north. the fleeting panorama was of constantly changing interest and beauty. soon they left the land behind. they were passing over prince albert sound. its surface was already white with ice. land again, then melville sound--last lap on this three hundred mile journey. bruce found himself unable to believe they were over a great body of salt water. surely these squares, rising from the surface, white and glistening in the moonlight, were village roofs covered with snow. surely, these other squares lying flat upon the surface were town lots, and the broader ones stretches of field and meadow, where grain would ripen in summer and flowers bloom. and the spots of open water, made black by the whiteness about them, were fishing-ponds where one might lazily dip his line and dream. but as he shook himself back into reality, a startling question had come to him. his lips put it in words. "how are we going to tell that schooner when we see it?" he barked through the major's telephone. "won't she be buried in snow?" "probably will," admitted the major, "but there's sure to be a native village near by, and though their houses are built of snow, they always have a litter of black things about--sleds, hunting implements, skins, and the like. we can't miss it." "natives. m-m-m," bruce mumbled. "nagyuktogmiut, or something like that. hope the white man happens to be about when we land. i've read stefansson's account of them. they treated him all right, but when old thunderbird, his own self, brings them some white men, they may not be so glad to see them, and those chaps have copper-pointed spears and arrows, not to speak of rifles." "the indians didn't bother us," phoned back the major. "that's right. well, i hope this is our lucky day." bruce again gave his whole attention to driving. then, as they made out in the distance some high elevations, that might be land or might be clouds, he dropped to a lower level and scanned the surface of the ice for a black spot which would tell of human habitations. the village, he knew, might be fifty miles from land, for these eskimos lived on the ocean's roof during the entire winter and hunted seal and great-seal, moving only now and again when game became scarce. "there they are, over to the right," he exclaimed presently. he set his machine in the general direction indicated. soon a black patch began to appear among the lights and shadows. surely here was the village they sought. the realization set his heart thumping violently. "drop in close and look for a landing." the major twisted in his seat and scanned the ice narrowly as he spoke. "just beyond them seems to be a broad flat pan. looks safe. try it" bruce cut off his engines and began circling down. it was the dead of night. apparently every person about the village was asleep. now he could distinguish sleds and skins hung on ice-piles to dry. now he located the double rows of dome houses. they were going to pass right over these, but high enough to miss them. then, rapidly, things happened. a vagrant current of wind seized them and they "bumped" in air. the next instant it was evident that a crash was inevitable. they were swooping straight down upon a row of snow-domes. but the machine was heavy, the snow-houses, mere shells, without the sign of a shock, yielding to the compact, went spinning away in little bits, revealing scores of sleepers snug beneath their deerskins. they had awakened bedlam. men shouted, women and children screamed, dogs barked. "like knocking over a bee-hive," chuckled barney. bruce, with a remarkably cool head, brought his machine to the smooth surface beyond. in a moment she was slowing up to a perfect landing. "quick! the machine-gun!" exclaimed barney. bruce gave one startled look behind them, then began working feverishly. already barney and the major were unstrapping themselves. across the ice in the vague moonlight a motley throng, a hundred strong, was charging down upon them. half-naked, their brown arms gleaming, they seemed the inhabitants of some south sea isle rather than eskimos of the farthest north. copper-pointed spears gleamed yellow and gold, while here and there the dark barrel of a hunting rifle was to be seen. "go slow," warned the major. "remember it's men, women and children instead of wolves this time. they're wild, but they're human. send a volley into the ice-piles at the left. show 'em what you've got and they'll stop--perhaps." as bruce turned the barrel of his deadly weapon, he caught the low rumble of many voices. the natives were chanting a witching song to destroy the power of evil spirits. "tat-tat-tat-tat." the machine-gun spoke. bits of ice flew wildly. the mob halted for a moment, then plunged on, still chanting that maddening song. just at the moment when a massacre seemed inevitable, there came a roar from the right. turning, bruce saw the form of a bearded man apparently rising from a hole in a giant ice-cake. at the sound the wild mob halted. "hey! you fellows!" the stranger bellowed. "what's the matter with you?" then he turned to the natives and began to harangue them in a tongue quite unknown even to the major. the instant bruce saw the red-whiskered giant rise, seemingly from the ocean, his hand relaxed on the machine-gun and he stood in ready expectation. the eskimos appeared to understand the words which the stranger flung at them, for, though they continued their weird incantation, they lowered their weapons and did not attempt to approach nearer the white men. presently their weapons began clattering to the ice. taking this as a sign of friendliness, the explorers stepped out to meet them. seeing this, the natives gathered into a compact group, their song rising to a wild humming howl, but they made no move to attack. when the strangers were quite close, one native, braver than his companions, stepped forward. still chanting, he handed each explorer a small cube of whale blubber. one cube remained in his own hand. this he proceeded to swallow, indicating at the same time that the strangers were to follow his example. the moment the cubes disappeared the wild chorus ceased and the natives crowded forward to extend a hearty welcome. it was, however, a very long time before one of them was persuaded to come near the airplane. "i haven't a doubt," said the major, "that they still believe that we rode here on the back of old thunder-bird himself. and why not? if we can build schooners many times as large as their largest skin-boats and run them by noise alone, if we can kill at a distance by a magic of great noises, why couldn't we tame the thunder-bird himself and make him carry us? it is my firm conviction that if one of us were to return here in a year or two, he would hear the most outlandish tales of the kabluna who rode the thunder-bird." the natives had returned to their camp to dress and to repair the damage done by the airplane. the white men were approaching what appeared to be the den of the bearded stranger, when the major gave a cry of joy: "masts! boys, we have finished the first lap of our journey. the den of the stranger is the cabin to his schooner. he is the trader who is to furnish us gasoline!" the major's surmise proved to be correct, and they were soon sitting happily around a rough galley table, sipping at steaming "mulligan"--a rich arctic stew--and coffee. "and now," said the major, "for a few hours of sleep. after that your time is your own for twelve hours." "twelve hours!" exclaimed bruce in surprise. "don't we start for the pole at once?" "young gentlemen," said the major smiling, "your enthusiasm is gratifying in the extreme. but flying, especially in high latitudes, is very trying on the nerves--even such nerves as yours. remember that in the arctic, where anything at all is liable to happen at a moment's notice, we must always be at our best. so get some relaxation. what will you do with your twelve hours?" "i heard a walrus barking a half-hour ago!" exclaimed barney eagerly. "i'm for a walrus hunt," agreed bruce. "good! that will stretch your legs a bit," said the major. "but don't go too far, nor take too many chances. remember you have a mission to accomplish here in the north." the three adventurers were soon sleeping soundly in the bunks of the gussie brown, and far away, bobbing his head through a water-hole and shaking the icicles from his moustache, a great bull-walrus barked at the moon. when they awoke from dreamless slumber, the boys' first thought was of the promised walrus hunt. they scrambled into their fur garments, and hurrying to the surface of the floe, listened for the hoarse call of their quarry, the walrus. they did not have to wait long. "there he barks!" exclaimed bruce, putting his hand to his ear. "and again," barney hurried below to secure a native harpoon and skin-rope. bruce provided himself with a high-power magazine rifle. "we're off!" barney shouted joyously to the major, as he gulped down a cup of steaming coffee and took a last bite of sour-dough bread. "good luck! and may you come back!" bantered the major. had he known how real was his jesting prophecy of danger, he would not have joked. as a rule, walrus-hunting in the arctic is not a sport, it is a task--the day's work of providing food for a village. it is as exciting as the "hog-killing day" of a middle-west farmer. the hog may run amuck of the farmer, and so may the walrus of the hunter; the chances are about equal. the walrus seldom shows fight. before he is harpooned, he either is quite indifferent to the presence of the hunter, or slips away to the water at sight of him. if harpooned, he makes every effort to escape, and only in rare instances shows fight. the boys had been told all this by the trader over their coffee the night before. it was evident, then, that they must slip up on their prey without being seen. this would be a comparatively simple matter, since the tumbled ridges of ice afforded ideal hiding-places. when close enough, barney, who was the stronger of the two, was to drive the harpoon-point through the thick skin of the creature. this harpoon-point was fastened to a rawhide rope. he must instantly drive a copper-pointed lance into the ice, and wrapping the skin-rope about it, close to the ice-surface, hold on like grim death until bruce dispatched the creature with his rifle. wherever the beast was, in a small water-hole kept opened by himself, or a larger one formed by the shifting floes, their success would depend on barney's ability to keep the rope free from jagged edges which might cut it, and bruce's skill at quickly getting in a fatal shot. at regular intervals the walrus must rise for air, and this would give the opportunity for bruce to get in his work. "he's a moose!" whispered bruce, as they crept close to the rather broad waters-hole and eyed the creature through a crack between upended ice-cakes. "tusks two feet and a half long! must weigh a ton and a half!" already barney felt his muscles ache from the strain. "well, here's for it!" he exclaimed, coiling his skin-rope. the next instant there came a loud thwack, which told that the boy's shaft had found its mark. instantly there was a hoarse bellow and then a wild splashing in the water. bruce was at the top of a pressure ridge, ready for action. barney had made his shaft secure, but then there came a strain that made the veins stand out on his forehead. suddenly the strain slackened. "be ready! he's coming--" barney did not finish, for from the churning water the walrus thrust his massive head, snorting and foaming. the rifle cracked. silently the great creature sank, but this time the foaming water showed a fleck of red where the walrus disappeared. "got him!" cried bruce triumphantly. but this time the strain on the lance was redoubled. "try--try to hit a vital--vital spot," panted barney, as the strain lessened once more. "behind front flipper--in the eye." again the water foamed. again the rifle cracked. more blood! another plunge, and again the strain seemed redoubled. "i--can't--hold much--longer," barney gasped. springing down from the pinnacle, bruce ran to the edge of the pool, and, leaping upon a floating ice-cake, waited again. this time his aim was better. the strain when the walrus sank was not so great. "doing fine," breathed barney. "next time we'll--" again he did not finish, for, unexpectedly, his friend shot up in the air, to fall sprawling upon the cake of ice and cling there while it tilted to an angle of forty-five degrees. the walrus had risen beneath the cake and split it in two. bruce was stunned by his fall, but barney's warning cry roused him. one glance revealed his perilous position. the piece of ice to which he clung had been thrust toward the center of the pool. even now the gap was too wide for him to leap. to plunge into the water, with the thermometer forty below, was to court death. while he hesitated, the walrus rose to the surface. with a bellow that sprayed bloody foam about him, he charged the cake of ice. if ever there was need for a cool brain, it was now. bruce, gripping his rifle, crouched and waited. reaching the cake, the walrus hooked his tusks over its edge till it tilted to a perilous angle. bruce's feet shot from under him, but by a quick movement he caught the upper edge of the ice. pulling himself up till he could brace his feet, he took steady aim at the beast's wild and bloodshot eye. it was a perfect shot. the walrus, crumpling, began to sink into the water. seeing this, bruce clung to the cake until the tusk slipped off. in another moment the uncertain raft was at rest. "well, we got him," he panted, sitting limply on the ice. "but for mine in the future, give me the cozy dangers of aviation. i don't see much relaxation in this game." the ice-cake soon drifted so that bruce could jump ashore. with their combined efforts the boys were able to draw the dead walrus close in and tie him securely to the ice edge. then they returned to camp to send a happy band of natives out for the meat and blubber. "that head will make a fine trophy to hang in the front parlor of that five-room bungalow," laughed barney, as a native brought it in that night. "you may have it for your den," said bruce with a shiver. "i never want to look a walrus in the face again." "to-morrow," said the major, as they prepared to retire, "the race will be resumed." chapter ix fighting their way out a careful examination of their "ivory jail" showed dave and the submarine engineer that they were in a narrow chamber completely lined with walrus tusks. the tusks had been so ingeniously cut and fitted that only the grain of the glistening surface told where one tusk joined another. as for the door, so closely was it fitted that it was not to be located at all. in two corners were seal-oil lamps. these had feed-pipes of some form of dried sea-weeds. they could thus be fed from without. two narrow openings, strongly barred with ivory tusks, one in the floor and one in the ceiling, permitted air to enter, but one peered through them into utter darkness. "tain't no wonder they left us our knives," grumbled jarvis. "the bloomin' 'eathen knowed we'd wear 'em away before we made any h'impression on that ivory. but mind you, lad, this hain't the work of no bloomin' 'eathen--not no regular 'eathen it hain't. 'e hain't smart enough for that, your regular 'eathen hain't. 'twas some one else, it was. shouldn't be surprised if it was them three strangers." as for dave, he was worried less about himself than about his companions out in the bay. knowing the growing impatience of the doctor, he was prepared to expect him to attempt anything in case of their prolonged absence. should he try to submerge the craft to bring her to land under the ice, it was an even chance every one on board would perish miserably--caught in the sunken "sub." that he and jarvis might be kept prisoners indefinitely seemed certain, for after some five or six hours, food was thrust in to them and they were left, apparently for the night. the food consisted of boiled fish and liver, probably walrus liver, soaked in rank seal oil. they ate a little fish and thrust the liver through the opening in the floor, the better to escape its nauseating odor. "h'i'd die before h'i'd h'eat 'is bloomin' victuals," snarled jarvis contemptuously, "that bloomin' 'eathen!" he began poking about the narrow confines of the jail. not being able to see to suit himself, he struck a match and touched it to the mass, placed on the edge of a brimming seal-oil lamp, in lieu of a wick. immediately a line of fire was kindled and its light, reflected again and again by the dazzling whiteness of their prison walls, made the whole place as light as day. at once jarvis gave a cry of surprise and began crawling toward the farthest side. "h'i told you there was minerals," he exclaimed. "e's a rich un, this bloomin' 'eathen. h'it's gold, h'i'll be blowed!" he began digging away with his knife at some yellow spots in the ivory. they were bits of inlaid gold. "what's the idea?" asked dave in surprise. "are all prisons up here made of ivory inlaid with gold?" "y' can't tell, lad. 'e's a queer one, the bloomin' 'eathen, and if h'i be 'anged," sputtered jarvis, "what's one pole more or less, when you've gold calling to come and take it. what--" he paused, his mouth agape, words unsaid. the door of the ivory den had been softly opened, and framed in it were the dark, crafty faces of the three natives who had brought about their captivity and imprisonment. in their hands gleamed knives with long blades of a curious oriental type. * * * * * but we must return to the doctor and his crew of gobs who had been left on the submarine. when the young captain and his chief engineer did not return at sunset, deep concern for their safety was felt. three searching parties were sent out, while, from time to time, flares were lighted to show them the way to the submarine, should they chance to have lost their directions on the ice-floe. the flares guided the searching parties back to the boat, but so far as finding trace of the missing ones was concerned, neither flares nor searchers were of any avail. in the meantime, the doctor paced the deck anxiously. they were losing valuable time. if only they could find a way to shore, the damaged shaft might be repaired and, during the interval, the captain and engineer would doubtless turn up. at the first hint of dawn the watch discovered a lead half-way through the ice-floe. at once the doctor ordered the submarine run into this narrow channel. the result was what might have been expected; the ice closed in and the "sub" was locked in the center of the floe. there remained but one way it could move--down, under the ice. otherwise, it might drift indefinitely in this solid mass of ice. they would be carried away from the bay, away from their friends, and all hope of rescuing them would be lost. it was, indeed, a terrible plight. just at this time a bright young gob, tom rainey, came forward with an ingenious scheme. the "sub" carried a sufficient length of steel cable to reach to the farther edge of the ice-floe. why, he reasoned, might they not pole this cable beneath the rather loosely-joined ice masses until they reached the open water, then submerge the submarine and, with a capstan, drag it like a hooked trout to the channel. it was a wild scheme, but the doctor was in a mood for anything. the crew were set to work at once, cutting holes in the ice-floes here and there and passing the cable from opening to opening. it was slow and freezing work, but in time the job was done. when the cable was ready, the doctor insisted that a sufficient crew be aboard the submarine when she submerged to man her in case she broke loose. this was, indeed, a hazardous mission, but volunteers were not lacking. and, with all speed, the trial was made. the scheme worked better than they had dared to hope. when the "sub" passed from beneath the ice-floe, the second engineer in his superabundance of joy hazarded a few turns of the disabled shaft. this set the whole craft vibrating and drove her half-way across the narrow channel. as the submarine rose to the surface the doctor saw a dark shadow pass over the glass window at the top. at the same time he felt a slight jar. "must have tilted a small cake of ice," he chuckled. then, as he lifted the hatch: "by jove! no, it wasn't. it was a skin-boat full of natives! there they are in the water! watch them scramble back into their boat. if we had a safer power, we'd go to their rescue. but they'll be all right. now, they're all aboard." that the natives were in a frenzy of fear while in the water, the doctor attributed to their dread of attack by a walrus. but when they began paddling away at top speed, he opened his eyes in wonder. "ah, well!" he said, at last, "who'd marvel at that? ships are not in the habit of coming up out of the sea in the arctic. and now i wonder--i just wonder, did they have anything to do with the disappearance of our friend dave and the engineer?" when all hands were on board lunch was served. by the time this was over the submarine had drifted to the solid shore-ice. she was at once tied up with the aid of ice-anchors, and preparations made for dragging her out of the water. "but first," said the doctor, "let us visit our friends, 'the bloomin' 'eathen,' as jarvis styles them." it was a strange sight that met their gaze as they entered the village. men, women and children, with a wild wail, threw themselves flat on their stomachs, uttering the most melancholy moans that ever came from human lips. interspersed with the cries were apparent appeals addressed to the visitors. "what's all this rumpus?" the doctor demanded of azazruk, the eskimo. "can you understand their jargon?" "they say," said the eskimo, showing his white teeth in a grin, "that they know we are spirits--spirits of dead whales, since we come out of a whale's back, that came up from under the sea. they say not kill them us please. they say this that one. they say, kill plenty whale that one chief native. they say, fire for spirit of dead whale not make that, them. they say that, this one native. but they say not kill them and for sure they make fire, sing song for spirit of dead whale." the doctor, who understood this to be one of the superstitions of the natives, and knew that they had taken the submarine for a whale, began to laugh. but at once he checked himself. turning a scowling face at the only two standing natives, one of whom had a fresh cut across his cheek, he stormed: "and why have these fellows no shame? tell them to fall down at once, or i will step on them." azazruk repeated the message, and, surprised and frightened, the two men obeyed. the doctor eyed the two curiously for a moment as they lay there squinting up at him, their slant eyes gleaming with suppressed anger. "look like they'd been in a fight," he remarked. and so they did. the darker of the two had the cut on his cheek, before mentioned, his fur parka was torn half off him, displaying some ugly bruises. his companion had lost half a sleeve and his right hand was bleeding. "they're surely rascals, but you must play the good samaritan at all times," he said, as he bent over one of them. "rainey, get my case from the locker, will you?" rainey hurried to the submarine, a half mile away, while the natives, still half sprawling on the frozen earth, eyed the hardier fellows, while the doctor bent over them, as if expecting at any moment to see them drop dead as a result of the magic power of these great spirits from the belly of a whale. it was jarvis and dave who were responsible for the condition of the two natives of the strange bearing. when jarvis saw their ugly faces and gleaming knives at the door of the ivory prison he was ready for a fight. his face turned purple, as he muttered between clinched teeth: "h'it's our chance. 'ere's where h'i make a killin'. at 'em dave!" and, led by his sturdy engineer, dave hove at them right royally. their knives were short but their arms long, and as for skill, there were no better trained men in the army than dave and jarvis. they made quick work of it. the "bloomin' 'eathen," surprised by the sudden onslaught, were on their backs in a trice. two of them fared as i have said, and as for the third, he came out with a head so badly pummeled by jarvis' fist that he was content to crawl into a dark igloo and stay there. once outside the prison jarvis and dave glanced quickly about them for a hiding-place. much to their surprise, they did not see a native about the village. made bold by this, they skirted the rear of the last row of huts, and, dodging down a snowed-in ravine, hid at last in the ice-heaps not twenty rods from the submarine. not being aware, however, that their friends had succeeded in reaching the shore-ice, they crouched in their icy shelter, their teeth chattering from cold and excitement. jarvis had an ugly slash on his right arm. dave had just succeeded in binding this up when they heard footsteps approaching. jamming themselves hard into a crevice of ice, jarvis whispered: "h'i'll fight t' a finish before h'i go back to that white prison of the bloomin' 'eathen." dave made no response. the steps came nearer, then began to die away. "didn't sound like the bloomin' 'eathen," muttered jarvis. "no near's soft and glidin'. 'ere 'e comes back. h'i'll 'ave a look." creeping close to a corner, he peered cautiously out, then with a roar: "blime me, it's rainey!" he sprang from concealment, almost embracing the young gob in his delight. it was a joyful meeting that took place between the united parties. when jarvis saw the doctor working over the disabled natives he roared first with laughter, then with anger. his last desire was to put them out of the way at once. "for, sir," he argued, "them hain't no natural, ordinary 'eathen, indeed not, sir. they are the very h'old nick 'isself, sir." but dave suggested putting them in their own ivory prison, and this advice prevailed. after their wounds were dressed they were thrust in and the door barred from without. wiser men than the "sub" crew have learned that a man is seldom safe in a prison of his own making, but the sailors never gave the prisoners another thought. "rainey," said the engineer, as he found himself alone with the young gob, "we'll all be rich men." "how?" asked his companion. "there's mineral! mineral! gold, me lad, tons of it!" the older man's wrinkled face caught the tints of the sunset and seemed to take on the hue of the metal of which he spoke. chapter x to the treasure city once all the members of the submarine party were reunited, their one thought was to repair their damaged craft as soon as possible and start again on their way to the pole. perhaps the engineer wasted a thought now and again on the supposed great mineral wealth of that peninsula, but if he did, he said nothing. the men were divided into three groups. the first, the mechanics, undertook the task of removing the shaft; the second guarded the craft against possible attack by the natives, while the third was dispatched up the beach to search for firewood which the mechanics must have. the work of the guard seemed a joke. not one of the natives could be induced to approach the dark "spirit-whale" which some of their comrades had seen rise from the water. even after the steel shaft had been brought ashore as tangible evidence that the craft was a thing of metal, they could not be induced to approach it. the wood hunters found their task a hard one, for, either there never had been much driftwood on these shores, or the natives had used it for summer camp-fires. they searched far down the bay without finding a sufficient quantity to make "a decent fire over which to roast 'hot-dogs'," as rainey expressed it. but as the engineer rounded a point, he suddenly exclaimed; "there! ain't h'i been sayin' hit! i 'ates to think 'ow jolly stupit som'ums of ye are." he was pointing to the banks which overhung the sea. the men, who were looking only for driftwood, did not at first see the cause of his exclamation. "coal, my lads!" jarvis exclaimed, half beside himself. "coal cropping from the bank!" it was true. a careful examination showed a four-foot vein of soft coal. it was not long until reindeer sleds, secured from the natives, were drawing quantities of the fuel to a point beneath a cliff, where a crude forge had been made out of granite rock. while this work was going on, the engineer disappeared in the direction of the village. in a half-hour he came tearing back, his face red with rage. "they're h'out!" he sputtered. "the bally, blithering unnatural 'eathen hev flew the h'ivory coops. t'was to be expected. i 'ates t' think what h'i'd a-done, 'ad h'i 'ad the say of it." "oh, well," said the doctor, who was inclined to take jarvis' quarrel with the natives rather lightly, "in twenty-four hours we'll be away from these shores never to return." "return?" exclaimed jarvis. "h'i'll return, an' dave 'ere'll return. we'll be rich men, we'll be. i 'ates t' think 'ow rich 'im an' me'll be!" but the doctor was too busy hurrying the mechanics in their repairs to heed the words of the excited engineer. finally the forge was ready and as by the arctic moonlight a black smoke rose higher and higher above the cliffs, and a fire blazed a thousand times larger and hotter than that black shore had ever known, the natives appeared to grow more and more certain that these men who came up from the depths of the sea were, indeed, the spirits of all the dead whales that they and their forefathers before them had killed. they looked on in silent awe. it was with the greatest difficulty that jarvis succeeded in finding one of them who was able to speak the chukche language of behring strait, a language that was understood by azazruk, the eskimo. when, at last, he did find a man who knew chukche and who was not too frightened to talk, he plied him with many questions. "who were the three strange-appearing natives who had attacked him and his companion in the jail? where did they come from? what were they doing here? how did they happen to have such a strange jail? how did they chance to have a jail at all? where did the gold come from that had been used to inlay the ivory? was there much of it to be found?" these, and many other questions, the engineer put to the trembling native, while, with one eye, he watched the operations of the mechanics who labored by the fire. the man did not know the exact place from which the three strangers had come; it was somewhere far south, known as ki-yek-tuk. the three had been a long time in the village and had inspired all the people with a great dread by telling them of a giant race who wore fierce beards like the walrus; who killed with a great noise at long distances, and who would break any jail except one of ivory. they had said that probably one or two of these fierce men would come at first, and, perhaps, if these were made prisoners, no others would follow. hence the jail. and hence, too, the imprisonment of dave and jarvis. the natives had felt sure that they were the advance guard of these wicked, cruel men who had come to rob and kill. but now, of course, they knew they were spirits of dead whales, and would do them no harm. as for the tusks with the inlaid gold, the man said they had been traded for by a very old man who had made a journey with a reindeer, ten nights and days from their village, due west. there, beside a great river, he had found a numerous people, who lived in houses of logs, very large and warm. he said, too, that these people had great quantities of this yellow metal. their houses were decorated with it; their fur garments glistened with it; their council house was encrusted with it. "but," he added at the end, "the metal was too soft for spear points and arrowheads, too heavy for garments, and not good for food. as for houses, did they not have their deerskins and walrus-pelts? so the old man never went back for more." dave had been sitting by the old engineer as he secured this information bit by bit through the interpreter. his eyes sparkled with excitement when he spoke. "well," he asked, when the native had finished, "what do you make of it?" "make of it?" exclaimed the old man. "it's plain as the nose on your face. h'as h'i see it, there's gold in this land just h'as h'i said before, plenty of it. h'and this 'ere tribe, way west there some'ers; they's been driven there by the roosians, er by other tribes. mayhaps they's roosian h'exiles themselves. mayhaps they's one of the seven lost tribes of h'israel, what you read of in the book. 'owever that may be, it's there, and h'i 'ates to think 'ow rich you h'and h'i'd be h'if h'it wasn't fer this 'ere crazy doctor's achin' to see th' pole." "jarvis," dave leaned forward eagerly, "we'll take the doctor to the pole, then we'll hire a submarine or a schooner and work our way back here." "we will that, me lad," said the old man, gripping the boy's hand. "but then," he added more soberly, "maybe it won't be a bit o' use. maybe the japs will get it first." "the japs." "sure! the japs. ar' ye that blind? don't ye know all the time the three rascals we well-nigh killed was japs? can't ye see 'ow they don't want the h'americans or th' roosians to git t' the treasure of this peninsula? can't ye see 'ow bloomin' easy h'it'd be for 'em to put two or three spies in h'every bloomin' native village on the whole roosian coast, and take the entire peninsula fer th' jap kaiser, or whatever they call 'im? can't ye see 'ow th' thing'd work?" dave sat a long time in thought. at last he decided what to do. "perhaps you're right, jarvis," he said finally, rising. "but our first job is the pole. the shaft must be nearly fitted by now. let's see how they're coming. perhaps we'll be away in the morning." as they rounded a block of ice by the shore, jarvis gave a start and seized his companion by the arm. "d'y' see 'im?" he whispered "'e was starin' h'at us from behint them ice-piles. 'e was a jap. i'll swear it." "aw, you're seeing japs to-night," laughed dave. "ow is she?" jarvis asked of a gob whom they met. "right as they make 'em--now. but i'll say it was some job that. the shaft was twisted something awful--like a corkscrew. but it was some steel, that shaft, and we just het her up an' twisted her straight again. the doc said he guessed it would be a bit short, but when we got her back in place she fitted like paint. then we slid the old boat back in the water and tried her out and she runs like a watch." "grand. we're off in the mornin'." dave and jarvis turned to make their way to the submarine where a single gob, pacing the white ice-surface, had laughed at his job of watching natives who could not be induced to come within a half-mile of him. suddenly the engineer jumped forward. "did y' see that?" jarvis grabbed dave by the arm and urged him into a run. "'e went down--the guard, i saw 'im," panted jarvis. "i saw 'im, then h'i didn't. h'it's the japs. listen!" there came distinctly the sound of a dragging hawser. "h'it's the japs; the blooming bloody 'eathen," jarvis panted. "they're h'after the submarine!" dave dragged him behind an ice-covered boulder. "quick!" he whispered. "if the submarine goes, we go with her, inside or outside, somewhere. we've got to take the chance." darting from ice-pile to ice-pile, they soon reached the water's edge. there lay the guard, unconscious, an ugly bruise on the side of his head. and there lay the submarine, silent and closed. "she's off!" breathed the engineer. it was true. the craft already showed a line of dark water between her and the shore. without hesitation, the old engineer sprang upon her deck and crouched by the conning-tower. instantly dave followed him. their soft skin-boots made no sound. and, as they crouched there, the submarine headed for the channel and then toward the west. "to the treasure city, h'i'll be bound," whispered jarvis. chapter xi a battle beneath the arctic moon "the treasure city" "we'll stick 'ere behint th' connin'-tower," the engineer explained to dave, as the submarine, turning, put off up the dark channel which separated the solid shore-ice from the great drift of ice-floe that lay beyond. "if they submerge," suggested dave, "we'll have a slim chance." "h'i doubt if they understant that much," mumbled the engineer between chattering teeth. "h'anyway, right 'ere's where h'i stick, h'and once th' bloomin' 'eathen show a 'ead above the 'atchway, h'i 'ates t' think what'll 'appen to 'im." "perhaps the channel will close in and drive them ashore," suggested dave hopefully, as he drew his mackinaw more closely about him and crouched nearer to the conning-tower, that he might avoid the cutting air and icy spray which reached him from the prow of the submarine. "mayhap," mumbled the engineer, snuggling close. but the channel did not close. also, the submarine did not submerge; it plowed straight on through the dark waters of the channel. night passed and the pale arctic sun revealed the two figures huddling, half-frozen, behind the conning-tower. daylight brought little comfort, serving only to remind them that they had no coffee for breakfast; indeed, had no breakfast at all. this set the engineer to muttering threats against the stranger who had stolen the submarine, and caused him for the hundredth time to remark: "h'i 'ates t' think what'll 'appen t' 'em, once h'i gets me 'ands on 'em." but the intruders stayed below while, slowly, the sun ran its brief course and then painted the ice-spires with shadows of deep purple. as the night came on, the two men were forced to move about to keep from freezing. tip-toeing along, avoiding heavy glass windows, they conversed in low tones. "we've been h'at h'it now goin' h'on twenty-four 'ours," murmured jarvis. "h'it's two hundred h'an' forty miles, h'an' h'our course u'd be shorter than a reindeer's. h'if that bloomin' 'eathen that spoke of th' treasure city told truth, h'i'm one fer believin' we're nearin' th' spot." jarvis spoke more cheerfully than he had at any time during the strange journey. dave smiled, as he wondered whether this was due to the fact their walk had warmed them somewhat, or his rising hopes that they would at least get to see the fabled treasure city. "tell me," jarvis whispered, "do my h'old h'eyes deceive me, or h'is there a line of dark h'over t' th' right of y'?" his hand trembled as he pointed. dave looked long and earnestly. the moon shone very brightly. the snow brought out dark objects with such vividness that it would not be too much to expect to see large objects twenty miles away. "i think your eyes are all right," he said slowly. "then that 'ud be th' forest by the river. th' treasure city 'ud be just by the 'arbor h'at th' mouth of th' river, dave. h'i 'ates t' think 'ow richer we'll be." the old man gripped dave's hand. as for dave, he was silent. he was thinking first of the struggle that could not now be far distant. it would be a bitter fight, with odds in favor of the other party. however, he hoped the enemy had been weakened by the earlier combat. then he thought of the men they had so unexpectedly left behind; of the doctor who depended upon him, and of the gobs who had served under him, a boy, so faithfully. such thoughts left him in no mood to think of treasure. he was about to say as much to his companion when there came a rattle at the hatch of the sub. quickly he and the engineer crouched behind the conning-tower. their breath coming hard, their hearts beating fast, they waited. the throbbing of the engine stopped. the submarine glided silently on. the deathlike stillness was ended by the dull groan of a hatchway lifting. armed each with a knife and a heavy ice-anchor, the two men waited. * * * * * in the meantime, during this twenty-four hours, so eventful to dave and the engineer, other things were happening on the shore by the native village. when rainey, who had been on guard at the time of the stealing of the "sub," had been found and brought back to consciousness, he could give no account of affairs, other than that he had been struck a violent blow on the head, and after that, remembered nothing. for a single moment dark suspicion rested on dave and the engineer. some of the crew had heard them talking of the treasure city ten days' journey to the west, and had heard jarvis remark that he "'ated t' think 'ow rich they'd be." could it be possible they had seized the submarine and deserted the party for the sake of gain to themselves? for a moment faith wavered, then their better natures triumphed. "not them," they declared. "not dave and old jarvis." to this the doctor heartily agreed. and, though his disappointment was great at having the expedition again delayed, and, perhaps, entirely thwarted, he turned his mind at once to matters of the hour. gathering his men about him, he outlined hastily a line of action for them in the present crisis. they were, he reasoned, in a perilous situation. several hundred miles west of any point reached by white whalers and traders, marooned with two hundred superstitious natives, who to-day worshipped them, but to-morrow, upon discovering the disappearance of the "spirit-whale," might turn upon them, they would be obliged to make use of every resource and every strategy to save their lives, should the submarine fail to return. his plan was, to deal fairly with the natives and keep their good will, if that were possible. fortunately, they had taken from the submarine ten good rifles with a hundred rounds of ammunition. natives were seen at all hours of the day dragging behind them the carcasses of seal, oogrook (big-seal), and even polar bear. if these could be secured with the aid of such primitive weapons as harpoon and lance, they with their rifles might hope to secure an ample supply of the meat. and it had been proved that even a white man could live the winter through on a diet of meat and blubber in right proportions. they might also, at times, be able to trade for reindeer meat. they would remain at the village until no hope remained that the submarine would return, then they would endeavor to get a store of meat, some reindeer, and deerskin sleeping bags, and make their way east to some point reached in summer by traders. three of the large skin-houses had already been turned over to them by the natives. these would provide ample shelter. two were at once arranged as bunk-houses and the third as cook-shack. when this had been done, with two men on guard, they turned in and slept. next morning, at six o'clock, four hours before daylight, every man was called out and assigned duties. it was the custom of the natives to depart for the hunting-ground at that hour. they should follow the same custom. dividing themselves into two parties, one to watch camp, the other to hunt, they immediately set about their tasks. the first day's hunt was under the direction of azazruk, the eskimo. the results were more than gratifying. two ringed seals, one oogrook, ten feet long, and one young polar bear were the bag for the day. "a full week's supply of meat," smiled the doctor, rubbing his hands in high glee. in his interest in this new game, he had for the moment quite forgotten his great disappointment at the loss of the sub. it was while they were smacking their lips over a hamburger, made of bear meat, that they were surprised by a young native, who rushed into their tent without the accustomed shouted salutation, seemingly quite beside himself with fear. for some time nothing intelligible could be gathered from his excited chatter. but finally azazruk made out that only an hour before, as he watched the reindeer, a great hairy monster had dashed at the herd, scattering it far and wide, and carrying away a yearling buck as easily as if it had been a rabbit. "probably a white bear," suggested rainey. "not probable," said the doctor. "a bear would eat his prey where it was slain." "a wolf?" "couldn't do it." "well, what then?" all eyes were turned toward the doctor. "you will judge me insane if i tell you what i think it was," he answered. "but here you are; i think it was a tiger." "a tiger?" "tiger?" every man voiced his unbelief. "a tiger in the arctic?" "impossible!" "that's absurd." for answer the doctor drew from his notebook a newspaper clipping, bidding rainey read it aloud. the article was entitled "the russian tiger" and was an account of the slaying of a gigantic man-eater by an american officer when american troops were stationed at vladivostok, in eastern russia. "at that point," explained the doctor, "they have about eight months of winter with a thermometer that drops far below zero. it may well be considered a part of the arctic. yet, as you see, they have tigers there; indeed, i am told they are not at all uncommon. so why not up here?" no one had a ready answer, and at last the doctor spoke again: "in the meantime, what are we going to do about it? it would seem that the natives are appealing to us for aid." rainey at once sprang to his feet, exclaiming: "count me one to go hunt the beast, whatever it is." at once the others were on their feet shouting their eagerness for the hunt. the doctor chose a gob named thompson to accompany rainey on his "tiger hunt," or whatever it might prove to be. rainey was well pleased at the choice, for thompson was a sure shot and a cool, nervy hand in time of danger. "if i don't hear from you by morning," said the doctor, "i shall send a relief expedition." rainey had fully recovered from the affair of the previous day. both he and thompson had been among the guarding party that day, so were fresh and keen for work. they found the moonlight making the wide stretches of ice and snow light as day. "_ some_ night and _some_ game!" murmured rainey, as they emerged from the tent. * * * * * when the men in native garb, who had stolen the submarine, lifted the hatch to take an observation, they were utterly unaware of the presence of two figures crouching behind the conning-tower. this, in spite of the fact that the men wore their long knives strapped to their waists, gave dave and the engineer a decided advantage--an advantage they were not slow to make the most of. fortunately, the robbers crowded up the hatchway, all eager to catch a first view of the reputed gold valley, in which lay the treasure city. as the third head peeped above the hatch, jarvis sprang at them. swinging his ice-anchor, an ugly cudgel of bent iron with a chilled steel point, he sent two of the villains sprawling at a single blow. meanwhile, dave, who had grappled with the third man, made a misstep and together they plunged down the hatchway. his opponent landed full on dave's stomach, and so crushed the breath from him that for a second the lad could not move. but instantly, he realized that he must act. the man was attempting to draw his long knife. thrusting out a hand, dave gripped the point of the blade in its soft leather sheath so tightly that it could not be withdrawn. struggling with every ounce of strength, the two men were rolling over and over on the deck. the stranger was heavier and evidently older than dave, but the american had one advantage. he was dressed only in woolens. the heavy skin clothing of his antagonist hampered his action. in spite of this, dave felt himself losing out in the battle. the stranger's hand was gripping closer and closer to his throat, and he felt his own hand losing its hold on the knife-blade, when he heard a welcome roar from the hatchway. it was jarvis. with one leap he was at dave's side. for an old man, he was surprisingly quick. yet, he was not too quick, for the murderous knife was swinging above dave's chest and a hand was at his throat, when jarvis clove the assailant's skull with his ice-anchor. with a groan the man collapsed. the knife clattered to the deck. jarvis dropped to the floor panting. "are you hurt?" he gasped. "no! are you?" "not a scratch. some jolly little weapon, them ice-h'anchors. h'i'll wear one of 'em h'in me belt from now on! h'i 'ates t' think 'ow cold th' water was when h'i pitched 'em h'in, them other two." "kill 'em?" "not that bad. but mebby they'll drown. h'i'll go see. h'i'd 'ate t' see 'em climbin' back." he hurried up the hatchway, followed closely by dave. not a sign of the two men was to be seen, either on the submarine, in the water or on the solid shore-ice, a few rods away. "what d' y' think of that?" asked jarvis, mopping his brow. "they're gone!" "perhaps they drowned." "mebbe drowned--mebby they're 'id h'in th' h'ice." "well, anyway, we're rid of them," said dave. "we'll sew the dead one up in a blanket and throw him overboard; then we'll be going back. think how all fussed up the doctor will be." the boy chuckled. "going back?" jarvis stared, as if unable to believe his ears. "going back? and the treasure city within peep of h'our h'eyes. going back, did y' say? h'i 'ates t' think 'ow rich we'll be, you an' me." the sun was setting behind the dark line of timber. some object at a point where the timber ended and the tundra began cast back the sunlight with a golden glow. "d' y' see it, lad?" exclaimed the excited old man. "d'y'see it? h'it's gold." chapter xii the russian tiger when rainey and thompson, accompanied by the native, left the village to hunt the strange creature that was working havoc with the village reindeer herd, they walked directly away from the rows of deerskin houses toward the tundra at the foot of the hills where, some five miles away, the deer were herded. the five miles were accomplished mostly in silence. each man was busy with his own thoughts. as for the little native, he seemed quite without fear as long as he was with the powerful "spirits of dead whales." when they approached the brown line of the herd that spread itself across the horizon, the boy led them around it to a point beyond where the beast attacked the young deer. there, though the ground had been much trampled by the maddened herd, they found many traces of the attack. splotches of blood stained the snow and made a well-defined trail where the creature had carried off its prey. soon they were beyond the patches of trampled snow and then the native left them to follow the trail alone. faintly, from the distance, came the rattle and clatter of reindeer antlers as the herd moved about. above them, in all its silver glory, shone the moon. now and again the hunters gave a start, as a ptarmigan, roused from its slumbers, went whirring away. to them every purple shadow of rock or bush or snow-pile might be the beast crouching over his kill. "the doctor's right!" exclaimed rainey, bending over the trail, which still showed a bloodspot here and there. "it's no polar bear--here's the scratch of his claws where he climbed this bank. polar bears have no claws, only a sort of hard lump on the end of each toe." "no wolf, either," said thompson, examining the tracks carefully. "the scratches are too long and too far apart. but, for that matter, who would even dream of a wolf large enough to carry off a two hundred pound deer?" the beast's soft paws on the snow, hard-packed by arctic winds, left a trail very difficult to follow. but, bit by bit, they traced it out. at last the creature, having climbed a hill, had taken down a narrow ravine where scrub willows grew thick. and here they found unmistakable evidence that it had been some form of a great cat that had passed this way. "just like a cat's track," said rainey. "and look at the size of 'em; must measure five inches across!" they paused at the edge of the willows. they were brave men, but not fools. only fools would venture into that thicket, where every advantage would be on the side of the lurking monster. "there's a ridge up there running right along the side of this scrub," said rainey. "we'll climb up there and walk along it. may get a glimpse of him. then, again, he may have come out on the other side and gone on." they climbed the bank and started along the ridge. every yellow bunch of dead willow leaves at once became for the moment a crouching tiger, but each, in turn, was passed up. so they walked the ridge and had passed the willow clump, when rainey gripped his companion's arm, whispering: "what's that down there to the right? i think i saw it move." thompson gazed down the narrow pass for a moment, then whispered: "c'mon. it's the very old chap. we can skirt the next bank of rocks and be right above him. we're in luck. it will be an easy shot!" creeping on hands and knees, with bated breath and nerves a-tingle, the boys came presently to a point above the half-hidden beast. as they peered down at him they could barely suppress exclamations of surprise. it was, indeed, a tiger. and such a tiger! never, in any zoo or menagerie, had they seen his equal. he was a monster, with massive head, deep chest and powerful limbs; and his thick fur--nature's protection against the arctic cold--seemed to emphasize both his size and his savageness. "you're the best shot," whispered rainey. "try him!" thompson lifted his rifle and with steady nerve aimed at a point back of the fore-leg. the tiger, who up to this time had apparently neither heard nor scented them, but had been crouching half asleep beside his mangled prey, seemed suddenly to become aware of their presence. just as the rifle cracked, he sprang up the bank. his deafening roar told that the bullet had found a mark, but it did not check his charge. then came a catastrophe. rainey leaned too far forward, causing some rocks and loose snow to slide from beneath him, and, in another second he shot down a steep incline to what seemed certain death. to his surprise, he found himself dropping straight down. a hidden cliff here jutted out over the drifted snow. to his much greater surprise, instead of being knocked senseless, he was immediately engulfed in what seemed an avalanche of snow leaping up to meet him. his alert mind told him what had happened. a blizzard of a few days previous had driven great quantities of snow against the cliff. this snow was not hard-packed, and he had been buried in it by the fall. the problem now was to avoid the tiger, who was sure to spring upon him at the first glimpse and tear him in pieces. then, suddenly, there flashed through his mind a picture left over from his boyhood days. it was that of a cat endeavoring to catch a mole, which burrowed industriously beneath the snow, raising a ridge as he burrowed. could he play the part of the mole, as the tiger was sure to play the part of the cat? it was his only chance. his companion would not dare to shoot until he knew where rainey was. putting himself in the position of a swimmer, the sailor began pawing at the snow and kicking it with his feet. the snow was hard packed against his face and he thought his lungs would burst. but he was making progress. now, he dared back off a trifle and take a long breath of air from the burrow he had made. then a sound stirred him to renewed effort. it was the thud and jar of an impact. the tiger, having made his first leap, had missed. how many more times would he do this? the boy once more jamming his head against the snow renewed his swimming motions. again he was obliged to pause for breath. again the tiger sprang; this time, seemingly, he was more accurate. again the race was renewed. the boy's mind was in a whirl. would his companion understand and risk a shot as the tiger prepared for another spring? he hoped so. surely, he could not endure the strain much longer. one thing he was certain of, he could not hear the report of the rifle if a shot were fired. he must struggle on in ignorance of what was going on above him. the thought was maddening. the air in the narrow channel was stifling; yet, he burrowed on, and heard again the heavy impact. he had burrowed his length and backed off again for breath, when he was forced to the realization that he could endure the air of the channel no longer. apparently, the tiger's last leap had completely closed it. resolving to fight his way out, and then to trust all to flight, he thrust his hands upward and again began to burrow. with dizzy brain and wildly beating heart, he felt at length the fresh, frosty air upon his cheek. but what was this that reached his ears? surely not the roar of the tiger. instead it was the joyous cry of his companion. dragging the snow from his eyes, rainey stared about him. there, not five paces from him, lay the tiger with a bullet in his brain, while beside the body stood thompson. "well," said the hunter with a grin, "you're sure some mouse!" "and you're some shot!" said rainey, floundering through the snow to his companion's side. "i guess that's the finest tiger skin in the world." "it's yours as much as mine," answered thompson. "we'll go share and share alike." chapter xiii bruce and the bear during this time of mishaps and adventures for the submarine party, what was happening to the boys and the major in their airplane? with fair wind and weather they might well have been on the return journey from the pole. but fair wind and weather are not for long in the arctic. they were, indeed, on their way. as they shot away into the air from the native village near the trader's schooner, they heard the natives calling one word in unison. it was the eskimo name for thunder-bird. the major smiled happily at the boys as the plane soared upward. barney was again at the wheel. two things he dreaded now: engine trouble, which might be brought on by poor gasoline, and an arctic blizzard. if forced to land at any time, they would be in great danger of a crash, and a storm would double the danger. but there could never have been a more wonderful day than that on which they left the little camp for the great adventure. not a cloud whitened the blue dome of the sky, not a breath of air stirred. soon the sun sank from sight, and twilight, strange and wonderful, lasting through three long hours, faded slowly into night. then below them lay yellow lights and deep purple shadows, with here and there a stretch of black, which told of open water between floes. the air grew colder as night came on, and speeding northward they saw the thermometer dropping degree by degree, and felt the chill creep through their garments in defiance of their electrical heating device. barney began to worry about the effect of this intense cold on the tempered steel of his engines and the many-layered wood of his propellers; but as they sped on hour after hour, this restlessness left him. but what was this? he found the machine shooting through space with greater freedom. one answer there was: a storm. they had been caught in the advance of a blizzard; how great and terrible, none could tell. "going to storm. better land," telephoned the major. obeying his orders, the boy dropped to a lower level. here the wind was more intense and the air was filled with fine particles of snow which raced with them, only to glide away into the background. the whole ice-floe was already gray and indistinct from the drift. to pick a landing-place seemed impossible. for several moments of agonizing suspense they sped on; then, just as they were about to despair, there appeared before them a long expanse of white. wide as three city boulevards, endless in extent, it appeared to offer just the opportunity they were seeking. with a sign barney shut off his engine, and, sailing on the wind, waited for a lull to give him a safe landing. the lull came, then with a swoop, like a wild duck seeking water, they hovered, settled, then touched the surface. the landing-wheels were shooting along over the snow with barney's keen eyes strained ahead that he might avoid possible rough spots, when there came a cry of dismay from bruce. with one startled glance about, barney saw all. to the right and left of them the ice seemed to rise like the walls of an inverted tent. "rubber-ice," his mind told him like a flash. they had attempted to land where the water had but recently frozen over, and was covered with a deceptive coating of snow. only one hope remained: to rise again. once the weak rubber-ice--thin, elastic salt-water ice--gave way, nothing could save them. tilting the planes and tail to their utmost capacity, barney set first one engine in motion and then the other. but the yielding ice gave them no purchase. at the same time, it impeded their progress by offering them the slope of a mountain side to climb. one thing favored them. the peril of a moment before became a blessing. the wind freshened at every blast. at last, with a terrific swoop, it seized them and sent them whirling upward. in the down-swoop, they were all but crashed on a towering pile of ice, but escaping this fate, once more they were away. despite this near-catastrophe, barney was determined to make a landing. the chill of the storm was so benumbing to muscles and senses that further flying could only result in stupor, then death. again he sank low and scudded along on the wings of the wind. to his great joy, he soon saw that they were passing over flat stretches of white. there could be no mistake this time; they were ice-pans, perhaps a quarter-mile across, such pans as form in quiet bays, to float away and drift north in the spring. again he stopped his engines, determined, if he must, to circle and return to the flats he had passed. this did not prove necessary, however, and, to their great relief, the three were soon threshing their arms and stamping their feet on a solid cake of ice, and so vast that it seemed they must be on land, not hundreds of miles from shore on the bosom of a great ocean, which might, at the very point they stood, be a half-mile in depth. their first concern was to make camp. this storm might rage for days, and already they saw white spots forming on one another's cheeks, telling of frost-bites. "we can't camp here in the open," said the major. "have to carry our blankets and sleeping-bags to the rougher ice yonder, where we can build a house of snow." the suggestion was no sooner made than the boys were delving into the inner recesses of the plane and dragging out equipment and supplies. "primus stove, dried potatoes, pemmican, evaporated eggs, pickled butter, hard-tack, chocolate, beef tea, coffee," barney called off. "not bad for near the pole." the dogs were hitched to the small sled and soon all were racing away before the wind to the spot chosen for the camp. in a short time they were busy constructing a rude shelter, and the airplane for the moment was forgotten. in the meantime, the wind was increasing, and the wings of the plane, catching first this swirl, then that one, began making great gyrating circles, cutting the air with a crack and a burr that might be heard rods away. though these sounds did not reach the men, busy with the snow-shack, they did reach listening ears--a great white bear, wandering the floes in search of some sleeping seal, stood first on all fours, then on his haunches, to listen. then, with many a misgiving and many a pause, he made his cautious way to the edge of that particular ice-flat where the plane rested. thence, after more misgivings, he trundled his awkward body across the flat and took a position close to the plane, where, on his haunches, he stood and watched the apparently playful antics of the plane as if he thought it some great bird that had come to infest his domain. presently, when the plane nearest him seemed about to swoop down and touch the ice, he moved to a position beneath it, and, with tongue lolling, stood on his haunches again and swinging his giant paw to accompany the swing of the plane, struck out as it approached him. to his surprise, the plane did not come within twenty feet of the ice surface. he sank back on his haunches and awaited further developments. when the snow-hut was completed, the first thought of the major and the boys was of something to eat. "something hot!" exclaimed barney, rattling away at the primus stove. then he sat up with a look of disgust on his face. "the needles for the primus," he groaned. "they're still over in the plane!" "i'll get them," said bruce, beginning to draw on his heavy parka. soon he was fighting the wind back to the position of the plane. he had not battled with the elements long before he began to realize that all would not be well if the plane were left in its present position, unanchored as it was. and when he caught the hum and whirr of the wind through the wings, he was more thoroughly convinced of the fact than ever. as he came near and could see the long tilting toss of the wings, he realized that something must be done and at once. for a second he hesitated; should he return and call his companions, or should he attempt to anchor the plane, temporarily at least, unaided? he decided upon the latter course, and went at once to the body of the plane where were stored light, strong ropes of silk, and ice-anchors. he did not see the bear sitting patiently on his haunches beneath the tip of the long wing. indeed, the snow-fog made it impossible, and it was equally impossible for the bear to see him. having secured four ropes and four ice-anchors, bruce took two of the ropes and began climbing out on the right wing of the plane. his plan was to attach the ropes to the extremity of the wing, cast them down to the surface where he would anchor them later in each direction away from the tip of the wing. he would repeat the operation with the other wing, and, drawing the ropes down snugly, thus make the plane tight and steady. he had climbed quite to the extremity of the wing and was about to tie his first rope, when a fierce gust of wind threatened to tear him from the rigging and crash him to the ice, a dangerous distance below. with a quick clutch, he saved himself but lost the rope. it was with a grunt of disgust that he saw it wind and twirl toward the white surface below. then it was, for the first time, that he saw the yellowish-white object huddled there on the ice waiting. "a bear!" he groaned, and instinctively reached for his automatic. but at that instant there came a fresh swoop of wind that set the plane gyrating more violently than ever. clinging grimly to the bars, bruce felt the wing swing down, down, then in toward the bear, till it seemed it must crash into the great creature. before the plane rose bruce felt a chill run down his spine. not ten feet beneath him was the savage face of the bear. all his gleaming white teeth showed in an ugly grin, as he stood on his haunches one mighty fore-paw raised in air, like a traffic policeman signaling a car to stop. then again the wing whirled to dizzy heights. bruce was now quite ready to climb back the length of the wing and depart for camp to summon assistance. but to loosen his grip, even of one hand for an instant, was to court death. again he felt the sickening sink of the plane, as if it were an elevator-car loosed from its cable. and this time, he felt instinctively, the wing would scrape the ice. and the bear, if he were still there? well, there was going to be a crash and a general mix-up. bruce had been a football player in his day and was aware that there were times, if one were at the bottom of the heap, when relaxation was the play. as far as his position made it possible, he relaxed. and, in the meantime the plane swept downward. for one fleeting instant he saw the white traffic cop of the arctic wilderness still standing with paw upraised. then everything was a blinding, deafening crash of ice and snow, wood, canvas and white bear. bruce gathered himself up some rods from the scene of the crash. relaxed as he was, he had rolled like a football over the ice and had escaped with a few bruises. but the plane? as he caught a fleeting glimpse of it disappearing in the murky fog, he felt sure that it would take days, perhaps weeks, to repair it. "and the worst is not yet! she's still swinging!" he groaned, rising stiffly. but immediately his mind was turned to the white "cop." how had he fared? the boy felt for his automatic. fortune favored him; it was still in his holster. this was well, for the white bear, very much shaken but still game, having wrought further havoc with the debris left by the demolished wing, was charging down upon him. standing his ground, bruce waited until the bear was within six paces. one stroke from that giant paw would end the struggle. his aim must be true and certain. suddenly his hand went to his side for a hip-shot. put-put-put-put. four bullets smashed into the bear, bringing him to a standstill. put-put-put-put. with a roar, the bear sank to the ice. in a second he was dead. it was with a feeling almost of regret that bruce bent over the giant beast. but it was with a sense of new power that he noted that seven of his bullets had crashed through the arctic goliath's skull. again his mind was turned toward the plane. cold and hungry as they were, he realized that he and his two companions must spend the next hour making their craft safe from further damage. three hours, indeed, elapsed before they were again seated in the snow-cabin. this time the primus stove was going and the coffee coming to a boil. "well," said the major, "i'm glad we're all here. we'll be delayed for several days. we may have lost the race. but we won't give up. as long as our plane has wings we'll keep on. no race is ever lost until the goal is reached and passed. let's eat." "anyway," said barney, as he sipped his cup of hot coffee, "we won't run out of dog meat and hamburger soon. i'll bet bruce's bear weighs a thousand pounds dressed." "fourteen inches between the ears," grinned bruce proudly. chapter xiv "bombed" standing silently beside the aged engineer, dave tower gazed thoughtfully at the golden dome that flashed, then slowly darkened in the setting sun. that yellow gleam did not lure him on, for the honor of helping to reach the pole was more to him than money. but jarvis? he perhaps had learned in his long years of labor that "the paths of glory lead but to the grave," and now that he was growing old wealth would mean escape from toil and worry. perhaps, too, somewhere in the states a gray-haired wife awaited him to whom just a little of that gleaming gold would mean rest and peace as long as she might live. so dave looked at the golden dome and pondered what he ought to do. when at last, he spoke, his tone was kind: "jarvis," he began, "as you know, i am in command of this craft. the fact that it has been stolen and won back, more by your efforts than by anything i have done, does not change matters any. i am still commander." jarvis looked up with an impatient gesture, as if about to speak, but dave kept on: "as captain of this submarine, i might order you below, and your refusal to do so would be mutiny. but from the time we came aboard this craft we have been more like pals than commander and engineer. i give you my word of honor i will never order you below. if you go, you go of your own free will." jarvis raised his face for a moment, and upon it was a look of growing hope. "you know," dave continued, "what our duty is. we shipped under the orders of the doctor. those orders still go. no matter how fine the chances are that we are letting slip, we are bound to do as the doctor wants. "more than that, we have friends back there who had only two days' supply of food when we left them. they are living in a village of superstitious, treacherous savages, who may attack and murder them at any moment. jarvis," he touched the old man's hand, "we are american seamen. will you forget your flag and your shipmates for gold?" for a second the old man stood in silence, then with a rush, he stumbled down the hatchway, and in another moment dave heard him tinkering away at his engines. before dave wrapped the dead stranger in his burial blanket, he searched the pockets of his clothing. there was no mistaking the garments; they were oriental in make. and had there remained any doubt, it would have been dispelled by two packets of papers taken from an inside pocket. these bore the official stamp of that oriental government which had been named by jarvis. "i must tell jarvis," said the boy to himself. "it will please him to know that he was right." and that night, while they glided silently back toward the native village they had left not many hours before, leaving the treasure city a mystery unexplained, he _did_ tell jarvis. as he finished, the old man's face lighted. "the thing that's troublin' me just now," he said slowly, "is the question of th' two bloomin' 'eathen that faded from h'our h'eyes. h'i 'ates to think they live, an' h'i 'ates to trust my 'opes they're done for. if they're h'alive, they may get the treasure yet, an' h'i 'ates t' be beat by a bloody, bloomin' 'eathen." "they're a long way from home base," said dave with a grin. "they may find the treasure, but getting it home's another thing." "i want you to know," he went on, huskily, "that i appreciate your standing by me, and if we get out of this alive, you and i, with our discharge papers, i promise i'll be your partner in this new enterprise--the quest for treasure; that is, if you'll take me on." "will h'i?" jarvis sprang to his feet, a new glad light in his eye. "will h'i? 'ere, give us a 'and on that. h'and we'll win, lad; we'll win! an' that in spite of th' bloomin' 'eathen!" it was early the next morning that the doctor, who was enjoying, with the gobs, the native festival of rejoicing over the killing of the great, and to them unknown, beast which had attacked their reindeer herds, he noticed a young native come running from the direction of the sea. he paused now and again to shout: "tomai! tomai!" which was the native call for the arrival of a boat. instantly the crowd was thrown into commotion. natives rushed hither and thither. but the white men realized at once that this could mean nothing less than the return of the submarine, and, while they did not at all understand it, they whooped their joy and rushed toward the shore to see a dark body rounding the point. "the sub! the sub! hurray! hurray!" they shouted, tossing their caps high in air. and the submarine indeed it was. dave and jarvis were overjoyed to rejoin their companions. the stories of adventure were soon told and then everyone was set to hustling the last bit of equipment on board. there would be neither meals nor sleep until everything was in readiness and they were away. as the doctor and dave stood on deck watching the casting off of the ropes, the doctor spoke of his plans. "we may have lost the race," he remarked rather grimly, "but we're going to the pole just the same. it will mean something to you boys, at least, to be able to say that you've been there. it was my purpose to lay our course directly for the pole without establishing a base, but since we have been carried out of our way so far, and have used so much fuel, i feel that it will be wise to head for the farthest-north point of alaska--point barrow. "i was assured, in nome, that there were two oil-burning whalers wintering near there, and i have no doubt that we can depend on them for extra fuel." the hatches were lowered, the submarine sank from sight amid the "ah-ne-ca's" and "mat-na's" of the awe stricken natives who lined the cliffs a half-mile away. the sub, with all on board, was again on its way to enter the race for the pole. "the race is on," said dave. "i wonder?" smiled the doctor. three times they rose in dark waterways for air. the fourth time it seemed they must be nearing land-- yes, as the submarine bumped the edge of an ice-floe, a point of land showed plainly to port. dave, with field-glass in hand, sprang to the nearest ice-cake, then climbed to a pinnacle to take an observation. "clear water to the left of us," he reported. "too close ashore?" asked the doctor. "i think not," was dave's answer. "we'll have to submerge for three or four miles; then we'll be clear of the ice." signal bells clanged, and again they were gliding under the ocean's armor of ice. as he listened to the hum of the machinery, one question puzzled dave. he had seen something along the end of that ice-floe. what was it? a sail? if so, it was a very strange one--half white and half black. he could not be sure it was a sail. but what else could it have been? but now they had swept out from under the ice. it was time to rise. instantly he pressed the button. the craft slowed again. another press, and as before they rose. this time no white surface would interrupt them. a current coming from land caught them forward and tilted the craft. she slanted from fore to aft. this did not matter; she would right herself on the surface like a cork. but what was this? as the point shot from the water, something rang out against the steel. this was followed immediately by what, in the narrow apartments, amounted to a deafening explosion; then came the sound of rushing waters. "great god! we're bombed!" shouted the doctor. dave's cool head saved them for the moment. his hand seized an electric switch and he pulled it desperately. the bow compartment was quickly closed, checking the rush of water into the rest of the "sub," fortunately, no one had been forward at the time. but now they were sinking rapidly. then came the throb of the pumps forcing out the water from the compartments aft. slowly the sickening sinking of their ship was checked. "will she rise again?" asked the doctor, white-faced but cool. "i think so, sir," responded dave. dave watched a gauge with anxious eyes. the pumps were still working. would the craft stand the test? would she rise? one, two, three minutes he watched the dial; then a fervent "thank god!" escaped his lips. the sub was rising again. but once more his brow was clouded. what awaited them on the surface? "one more," he muttered, "just one more, and we are done for." every man aboard the submarine had a different explanation for the bomb which had disabled their craft. jones, the electrician, had just finished reading the adventures of a young british gunner in these very waters somewhere back in the eighties. the story had to do with the defense of seal fisheries against the japs, and jones was sure that a japanese seal-poaching boat had bombed them. mcpherson, who had seen active service chasing german subs, was certain they had encountered one of the missing u boats. wilder believed it had been a russian cruiser, and, of course, jarvis blamed it to the "bloomin' 'eathen." the first and third of these theories could be discarded at once, since no craft was to be seen when last they submerged, and a cruiser or schooner of any size could scarcely have escaped their attention. as for dave, he had another theory, but was too busy to talk about it. he had read a great deal regarding the eskimos and their methods of hunting. meanwhile the submarine was rising slowly toward the surface. she was coming up with her stern tilted high this time, for the water in her forward compartments disturbed her balance. every heart beat fast as the water above grew lighter. "mcpherson, be ready to throw open the hatch the minute we are clear," commanded dave. "all life belts on?" he asked. "aye, aye, sir!" came in chorus. "rifles?" "at hand, sir." "ready then." there came a sudden burst of light, the creak of hinges, the thud of the hatch, then the thud of feet as the men rushed for the deck. in another moment the crew found themselves outside clinging to the tilted and unsteady craft, blinking in the sunlight, and seeing--? principally white ice and dark water. off in the distance, indeed, was an innocent-looking native skin-boat. there were, perhaps, ten natives aboard. "thought so," chuckled dave. "you thought what?" demanded the doctor. every eye was turned on the young commander. "thought we'd been shot by natives with a whale-gun. took us for a whale, don't you see? whale-gun throws a bomb that explodes inside the whale and kills him. in this case, it exploded against us and raised the very old dickens. here they come. you'll see i'm right." and he was right. the crew of christianized natives were soon alongside, very humble in their apologies, and very anxious to assist in undoing the damage they had wrought. "have we any extra steel plate?" asked the doctor. "yes, sir. have to be shaped, though," replied dave. "can we do it?" "i think so, on shore." "all right, then. get these natives to give us a hand and we'll go on the sand-bar for repairs. bad cess to the whaling industry of the eskimos! it's lost us a full two days, and perhaps the race! but we must not give up. things can happen to airplanes, as well." it took a hard half-day's work to bring the craft to land, but at last the task was done and the mechanics were hammering merrily away on the steel with acetylene torch sputtering, and forty natives standing about open-mouthed, exclaiming at everything that happened, and offering profound explanations in their own droll way. chapter xv the mystery cavern once their craft was repaired, the submarine party pushed northward at an average rate of ten miles an hour. it was two days before any further adventure crossed their path. but each hour of the journey had its new thrill and added charm. now, with engine in full throb, they were scurrying along narrow channels of dark water, and now submerging for a sub-sea journey. now, shadowy objects shot past them, and dave uttered a prayer that they might not mix with the propeller--seal, walrus or white whale, whatever they might be. in his mind, at such times, he had visions of floating beneath the arctic pack, powerless to go ahead or backward and as powerless to break through the ice to freedom. wonderful changing lights were ever filtering through ice and water to them, and, at times, as they drove slowly forward, the lights and shadows seemed to have a motion of their own, a restless shifting, like the play of sunlight and shadow beneath the trees. dave knew this was no work of the imagination. he knew that the ice above them was the plaything of currents and winds; that great cakes, many yards wide and eight feet thick, were grinding and piling one upon another. once more his brow wrinkled. "for," he said to himself, "it may be true enough that the average ice-floe is only twenty-five miles wide, but if the wind and current jams a lot of them together, what limit can there be to their extent? and if we were to find ourselves in the center of such a vast field of ice with oxygen exhausted, what chance would we have?" dave shuddered in answer to the question. he was thinking of these things on the eve of the second day. they were plowing peacefully through the water when, of a sudden, there came a grating blow at the side of the craft. it was as if they had struck some solid object and glanced off. "what was that?" exclaimed the boy. he cut the power, then turned to the doctor: "ice or--" "there it goes again!" exclaimed the doctor. this time the blow was heavier. it sent them against the side of the compartment. "ice beneath the ocean? impossible!" exclaimed the doctor. "must be rocks!" another blow hurled them in the opposite direction. both realized the gravity of this new peril. if one of these blows caught the craft squarely it would crush the sub like an egg-shell. but the boat was slowing up. there was hope in that. dave, attempting to look out of one of the portholes, was thrown to the floor by another shock. and this time the craft seemed to have stuck, for she did not move. "where can we be?" asked dave, rubbing a bruised head. it was a strange sight which met their eyes as they looked from the conning tower. on every side appeared to be giant pillars of ice. between these were narrow water passages, while above they could make out a mass of ice far more opaque than any they had yet passed beneath. "one of two things," said the doctor. "we are beneath an iceberg or the end of a glacier. probably a glacier, and the pillars which support it reach to the bottom, which must not be far below us." "we have driven between two pillars and stuck there like a mouse in a trap," said dave, "and if we cannot set ourselves free, we are--" "it must be done!" exclaimed the doctor. "start the power slowly and see what the propeller will do." dave gave the signal. there followed a harsh, grating sound, but the boat did not move. "stuck!" muttered dave. "not so fast." said the doctor. "there's hope yet. shut off the power and order all hands aft." "now," said the doctor, when they were assembled. "we will go to the starboard side, then all together dash to port, and throw our weight against the side. then turn and rush back--we want to make her roll. are you ready? go!" the craft stirred a trifle at the shock. the second attempt seemed to promise still better. after they had repeated the operation half a dozen times, they were getting considerable side-wise movement out of the trapped submarine. "now," said the doctor, "start the power slowly, engine reversed. the instant she is free, shut off the power. on the precision of this operation depends all our lives, for should the propeller strike one of those pillars it will be torn away and our hope of escape gone." dave's hand trembled as he moved the lever. for one second the propeller spun around. then, with a shudder, the craft started backward. that instant dave shut off the power. the submarine drifted free. so far, they were safe. the doctor consulted his watch. "time of low tide," he observed "guess we should be able to rise and get some air. try it." slowly they rose to the surface, and there the craft rested. it was an eager throng that rushed from the conning-tower and it was a wonderful and awe-inspiring sight which met their gaze. "cathedral of the polar gods!" exclaimed the doctor. and, indeed, so the great cavern seemed to be. great pillars of ice, not yet worn away by the wash of water, supported giant arches of ice, blue as a mid-june night. the least echo was echoed and reechoed through the vast corridors. the murmur of distant waves seemed to come from everywhere. "what i want to know," said dave, "is, which way is out. the careless gods seemed to have neglected to mark the exits." "we'll find an exit," said the doctor, "and we'd better be about it, for it'll be much easier at low-tide than at high." the engine was started, and slowly they steered their way through countless aisles and broad halls, but the finding of the way out did not seem so easy after all. they had penetrated far enough into the cavern to hide them from the pale outer moonlight, and they were not certain that their course was not taking them farther from it. dave was thinking of turning about when the sub came to a stop with a suddenness which threatened to pitch the party into the sea. "what now?" demanded the doctor. ordering the power shut off, then flashing a light before them, dave exclaimed: "a beach, a sandy beach!" then, with the enthusiasm of a boy, he sprang forward, leaping into shallow water and wading ashore. once ashore he flashed his light about in the icy caverns which left but a narrow sandy beach. then, with a cry of horror, he sprang backward. before him towered an immense hairy monster, with tusks three times the length of a man's arm. the instant the cry had left his lips, he knew the laugh was on him. but the cry had gone forth, echoing through the corridors. it brought the jackies and the doctor splashing through the water to his rescue. "only a frozen mastodon," he grinned sheepishly, as they came to his side. "guess he's been dead ten thousand years, to say the least. but honest, doesn't he look natural standing there in the ice?" he flashed the light suddenly upon the ice-encased monster, and the jackies jumped, as if they, too, expected to be attacked. "a beautiful corpse, i'd say," exclaimed one of them. "a most remarkable specimen," commented the doctor. "i've heard of cases like this, but never saw one before." "say!" exclaimed jones. "if we could only get him out of here like that and put him down in alcohol, we'd have a side-show that would make barnum jump out of his grave!" "not a bad idea," said the doctor. "the only hitch would be getting him out of here." as dave backed away for a better view, his foot struck something hard. flashing his light upon it, he found it to be the skull and tusks of a walrus. they were as black as coal. "i've made a find!" he exclaimed. "these tusks we may take with us, and old ivory is about as valuable as precious stones." the discovery seemed to waken the doctor to their peril. "that walrus," he said, "wandered in here and was drowned by the rising tide. he can breathe under water, but cannot stay down over ten minutes. we can't breathe at all under water. the tide is setting in." these words sent the crew scurrying back to the submarine. already the tide had risen sufficiently to float the craft. all hands hastened to re-embark. "if we set our course directly at right-angles to this beach and keep it there," said dave, "it should bring us to safety." this was done, and, after many a turn and twist, they caught a gleam of light. submerging, they were soon beneath the ice-floe once more. with a sigh of relief, dave gave the order to rise at the first water-hole. there they might take their bearings. a half-hour later the party was gathered on the deck gazing away at an island above which there towered a snow-capped mountain. down the side of the mountain might be distinguished the winding, blue course of a great glacier. "our glacier!" said dave. "some glacier, i'll say!" "our glacier!" repeated a jackie. "long may she glide!" the course was set at an angle to the island. this would carry them past any treacherous sand-bars. they would then take another tack and resume their former course. at a few minutes before noon that day they rose far from the island. the sun, a pale yellow disk, shone through a thin haze close to the surface of the pack. and yet it was high noon. this was, perhaps, to be their last bearing taken by the light of the sun. henceforth, the moon and the stars must guide them. whereas all former polar expeditions were carried forward only during the summer months, when the sun shone night and day, they, as well as their rivals, must drive on straight into the deep mysteries of the dreaded arctic night. chapter xvi wrecked "all aboard! change here for all way stations; our next stop is the pole!" barney, the daring aviator, sang the words cheerfully, as he settled himself in his place at the wheel. he hardly felt the cheerfulness his tone implied. true, they had spent twelve days repairing the damage done to the plane by the wind and its collision with the white bear, but it was a rather patched-up affair now it was finished--as it needs must be with the few materials and tools at their command. as he had expressed it to bruce only the night before: they had a crippled wing, and a bird with a broken pinion never soars so high again, even if it is a bird of fabric, wood and steel. however, he was truly glad to be getting away on what they hoped might be their last lap. the grave-like silence of the arctic, with its glistening whiteness everywhere, had gripped his nerves. "well, here's hoping," he murmured to bruce, as the plane hopped off. as for the major, he sat with face fixed as a bronze statue. his gaze was toward the pole. for fourteen hours they soared steadily onward. only the air, which grew crisper and more stinging as they advanced steadily northward, told them they were nearing the pole. observations from the plane were impossible. the sun, which had been appearing less and less each day, was now quite lost to them. only the moon in all its glory tinted the blue ice-piles with wavering ghost colors. the wind for once was still. not a bird appeared in the sky, not an animal met the gaze of their binoculars as they peered below. it was as if the whole northern realm had become suddenly silent at the magnificent spectacle of three men sailing alone over spaces never yet traveled by man, and where dangers lurked at every turn. the plane, too, was surprising its driver. it answered his least touch on the lever controls. the engines were working perfectly. only now and again he caught a faint lurch which told his practiced senses that some of the rudely improvised splices were working loose. even these gave him no great alarm; at least, they did not seem sufficiently serious to warrant an immediate landing. but suddenly, as they were soaring over the wildest, most treacherous-looking stretch of floe ice that eyes have ever rested upon, the plane gave a lurch. a shudder ran through her from wing to wing, and, with a plunge, she shot side-wise. the outer half of her right wing had doubled up on the inner half, like a blade to a jack-knife. bruce took in the situation at a glance. before a hand could stop him, he had unbuckled his straps, and, creeping to the extremity of the remaining half of the wing, he clung there, thus adding his weight to its balancing power. already barney had shut off the engines. with the added weight to the right the plane became steadier. danger of a whirling spin to the ice-surface seemed for the time averted. "what a landing-place!" groaned barney, almost touching the starting lever in his eagerness to save the plane. but he stayed his hand; to start the engine under such conditions would be madness. some form of landing they must make, even if it was but to "crash." so they sped steadily downward, realizing that the goal they sought must now, with the aid of their dog-team, be easily within their grasp; yet realizing also that all means of returning was likely to be denied them, unless, indeed, one were to call five dogs a means of traveling over hundreds of miles of tangled, tumbling mountains of ice. suddenly, barney's heart leaped for joy. just before them, within possible area of landing, lay a perfectly level stretch of ice. it was not large, was, in fact, perilously small, yet it offered a possible landing. tilting the left plane to its utmost, adjusting the tail, barney glided onward. with bated breath he saw the white plain rise to meet them. with trembling hand he touched a lever here, a button there. then--a jar--the landing-wheels had touched. they touched again. the moving plane fairly ate up the scant level space, yet she slowed and slowed until at last, with hardly a tremor, she rested against the outcropping ridge of ice at the floe's edge. with a glowing smile the major unstrapped himself to reach out his hands in thanks and congratulation to his pilots. but--where were they? they had disappeared. he found them in front of the plane calling to him for assistance. then he saw the danger their more practiced eyes had already noticed. the ice at this point was piling. at this moment the very cake against which they had stopped was beginning to rise. within a space of moments, the plane, unless turned and thrust backward, would be crushed beneath hundreds of tons of ice. "if we can get her back we can save her!" panted bruce. "swing her!" shouted barney, throwing his whole strength against the right wing. "now she moves!" yelled bruce joyously. "now! heave ho!" the great craft turned slowly on her wheels. now the plane was clearing the ice. now--now in just a second--she would be safe. but no--the right wheel caught in an ice-crevice. three desperate efforts they made to free her, then, just as the giant cake towered, crumbling above them, the major shouted the word of warning that sent them leaping back to safety but cost them their machine. true, it stood there, still. the mechanism was perfect, the engines uninjured. but the right wing was completely demolished. buried beneath tons and tons of ice, the craft that had carried them so far was crushed beyond all hope of repair. with despair tugging at their hearts, the three stood looking at the wreckage. but they were not of the breed that quits. "we'd better get our stuff and what's left of the plane out of the way of danger," said bruce at length. "the stuff--blankets, grub and the like, yes, but"--barney smiled in spite of himself--"why the plane? she's done for." "because," said bruce, "you can never tell what will happen." the pressure which was piling the ice diminished rapidly, and the back edge of the cake proved a safe place to make camp. soon they were boiling tea over a small oil stove and discussing the future as calmly as they might have done had they been in the old office-shack back on the hudson bay railroad. "now to find where we are," exclaimed the major, knocking the tea leaves from his cup. the interest in this project was keen. after working out his reckoning, estimating the speed of their flight and counting the hours they had been in the air, the major laid down his pencil. "fifty miles southeast of the pole," he said at last. "shall we attempt to go on or turn back?" the boys looked at one another. bruce read in his companions' eyes the desire to attempt the return with the dog-team. at the same time, he realized that the real genius of an explorer lay in his desire to push on. the major had that genius. "as for me," bruce said finally, "i never decide anything of great importance until i have slept over it." barney smiled in spite of his anxiety and weariness. but the major, seeing the strained expression in the boys' faces, realized that the ultimatum of bruce was a good one. soon the three companions were snug in their sleeping-bags, dreaming of a land of grass and flowers far, far away. * * * * * as soon as the submarine was safely on its course after the glacier incident, dave, who had not slept for many hours, turned in for "three winks." his three winks had stretched on into hours, when he was wakened by a sudden jarring that shook the craft from stem to stern. he was on his feet in the passage-way at once. "what happened?" he demanded of a sailor. "blamed if i know," said the other. he was white as a sheet. one thing dave made sure of as he hurried toward the wheel-room; they were drifting under the ice-floor of the ocean. was the motor simply dead, or was the propeller gone? he had but an instant to wait. there came the purr of the motor, then the sudden sound of racing machinery, which told plainer than words that the worst had happened. "i think it was a walrus, sir," said rainey, who had been in charge of the wheel-room. "i had just caught sight of a dark blotch gliding by and reached for the power when the racket started." "what were you making?" asked dave quietly. "our usual ten knots." the compartment they were in was filled with levers and adjusting wheels of all descriptions. the walls were lined with gauges and dials of many styles and sizes. a person on entering and taking the operator's position, might fancy himself in the center of a circle of gears and driving wheels of many automobiles. dave glanced at a gauge, then at another. he touched a wheel, and the hand on the second dial began to drop. they were now rising. as a usual thing, they traveled some forty feet below the surface. icebergs were scarce in these waters, and the ordinary floe did not lie more than twenty feet below sea-level; still, it was safer lower down. but now--now their safety rested in gliding to a point beneath a water channel or hole, and, once they were under it, they must not fail to rise. "no, not if it takes our conning-tower to do it!" dave said savagely, as he finished explaining. they were still drifting through the water at a rather rapid rate, but little by little a speed gauge was falling. soon they would be lying motionless beneath the arctic floe, as helpless as a dead whale; and should no dark water-hole appear before that time came, they were doomed. dave wiped the cold perspiration from his brow, as the hand on the dial dropped lower and lower. he touched a wheel again, and they rose another ten feet. "must be nearly bumping the ice by now; but at such a time as this one takes risks," he muttered. what was that? did he sense the dark shadow which always presaged open water? surely, if walrus were about, there must be open water to give them air. and, yes--there it was; a hole in the floe! his trembling hand again touched the wheel. the hand on the dial had dropped to nearly nothing. if the water-hole was narrow; if they missed it! but no--up--up they shot, and in just another moment men were swarming from the conning-tower. "say!" exclaimed dave, wiping his forehead. "do you remember the obstacle-races they used to have at county fairs when you were a boy?" the jackie he spoke to grinned and nodded. "well, this is an obstacle-race, and the worst i ever saw. the worst of it is, there are two prizes--one's the pole and the other our own lives!" the open water they had reached at so fortunate a moment proved to be a channel between floes. they were in no immediate danger now, but to repair the damage done to the shaft and adjust a new propeller, it was necessary that they drag the submarine to the surface of a broad ice-cake. this task was not as difficult as one might imagine. with the aid of ice-anchors, iron pulleys and cables, they without much delay harnessed their engine and finished the job all ship shape. "look!" said one of the seamen, pointing at the narrow stretch of water. "she's closin' in!" as the men looked they knew it to be true; the channel was certainly narrower than when they first rose upon its surface. securing a light line, the doctor attached it to a plummet. throwing the plummet across the space, he drew the line taut. he then marked the point where the ice-line crossed it. then for five minutes he divided his attention between the line and his watch. as he rose he muttered; "two hours! two hours! how long will it take to complete the repairs?" "four hours, at least," dave replied calmly. "then we're defeated!" the doctor began pacing the surface of the ice. "we're stuck--beaten! in two hours the channel will be closed, and there is not another patch of open water within five miles!" if dave seemed unnaturally calm on receipt of such news, it was because he had in his "bag of tricks" one of which the doctor was not aware. while in nome he had made the acquaintance of a former british seaman, who had cruised arctic waters in the late eighties, when japan was disputing the rights of great britain and the united states to close the seal fisheries. this man had told him how the gunboats had opened their way through the ice-floes. the idea had appealed to the young skipper. consequently, on boarding the submarine, he had carried under his arm a package which he handled very carefully, and finally deposited in the very center of a great bale of fur clothing. there it still remained. "i suppose i might tell him," he said to himself. "but i guess i won't. 'blessed is he that expecteth nothing,' the trick might not work. i'll wait." he turned to where the mechanics were hard at work adjusting the new propeller. the repairing had gone on for something over two hours. the water-channel had completely closed. the doctor was pacing the ice, lost in reflection. like a flash, there came into dave's mind a new problem: would the current be content merely to close the channel, or would the ice soon begin to buckle and pile? with an uneasy mind, he urged the workmen to hasten, at the same time keeping an eye on the line of ice where the channel had so lately been. chapter xvii "so this is the pole" many of the disasters which threaten us in this life pass us by. so it was with the impending disaster of piling ice near the submarine. it did not pile. but there remained the problem of getting the submarine through that six-foot roof to the water beneath. how was it to be done? the doctor still paced back and forth, his unrest written in the furrows of his brow. the jackies, cheerful as ever, worked at their shift of repairing the craft, or, when not at work, played at "duck-on-rock" with chunks of ice. once a seal appeared in a water-hole. had he not departed promptly, there would have been fried seal steak and roast seal heart for supper. a lumbering bear, that had evidently never seen a human being before, was not so fortunate. his pelt was added to the trophies of the expedition, and his meat was ground into rather tough hamburger. finally the mechanics announced that the submarine was again in perfect condition. now was the time to try dave's last trick. sending three men to stretch a hundred-fathom cable from the submarine, and to anchor its farther end to a great ice-pan, he dropped below to return at once with a package. cautioning the men not to follow him, he walked away seventy-five yards, bent over the center of an ice-pan, seemingly to adjust certain things and put others in order. this done, he strung a black cord-like affair from his little pile of objects. he then measured off ten paces, and repeated these operations. he then lighted a small gasoline torch, and held the tip of the second cord-like affair to it, then raced to the other for the same purpose. when this was done, he sped away toward his companions. his actions were quickly understood by the watching crew. the furrows on the doctor's brow had become mere lines. he was smiling hopefully. when dave tripped over an ice boulder there was a cry of alarm, but he was up in a second, and found shelter with his men. instinctively everyone ducked. then came two roaring explosions in quick succession. bits of splintered ice fell around them like hail. before the ice fragments had ceased falling, everyone was climbing to the top of the ice-pile. what they saw caused a shout of joy. where the ice-pan had been was a long stretch of black water that slowly widened until it was quite large enough to float the submarine and allow it to submerge. at once every man was at his task. the submarine moved slowly toward the water. there followed a dip, a great splash, a wild "hurrah!" and five minutes later they were once more on their way to the pole. but, during this time, dave's active mind had been working on another problem, which might appear to have been settled, but had not been: the drift of the floe. if the ice did not pile when the floes came together, why was it? it seemed to him there could be but one answer; other water-channels beyond the drift, under which they now traveled, were being closed by counter-currents. and if they closed, one after the other, more rapidly than the advance of the submarine, what was finally to become of the submarine crew? would they not perish for lack of air? dave did not share the cheerful mood of the doctor and the crew; it was his turn to look worried. many hours later, his worst fears having been realized, he found himself again in the little room of many wheels and dials. hour after hour they had shot beneath the varying surface of the floe, but not for one hopeful second had they caught the dark shadow of open water. as near as he could reckon, allowing for the ever-present currents, dave believed they were nearing the pole. but his brain was now throbbing as if a hundred trip-hammers were pounding upon it. moments alone would tell the tale, for the oxygen in the air was exhausted. already half the crew were unconscious; others were reeling like drunken men. the doctor had been the first to succumb to the poison of polluted air. in this crisis dave was not alone at the wheel. the eskimo boy, azazruk, was by his side. it was for just such a time as this that he had taught the bright young native something of the control of the mechanism. each wheel of the operating devices was numbered. he had taught the eskimo a formula by pains-taking repetition. "if ever the time comes when all are sick, no one can move but you," he had said many times, "and if at that time you see black waters above, act quickly. one--seven--ten--three--five, remember that. one wheel at a time, quickly but surely; one--seven--ten--three--five." "one--seven--ten--three--five," the eskimo boy had faithfully repeated after him, and rolled his eyes half in amusement and half in terror. "wheel one is for rise, seven for fans, ten to stop, three to lift the outer-hatch, five the inner-hatch," dave had explained. "but you only need to remember one--seven--ten--three--five." somehow, dave had come to believe that this hardy young alaskan, reared as he had been, under perfect conditions of food, air, light and exercise, could, if the test ever came, survive his civilized companions. now, as he reeled and a great wave of dizzy sickness came over him, while he sank to the floor, dave was glad he had taught azazruk; for the boy, with a strange, strained look of terror in his eye, stood still at the wheel. dimly he felt, rather than saw, a dark shadow pass over them. as in a dream he whispered the magic formula: "one--seven--ten--three--five." faintly he heard the grind of the wheels, felt the fan's breath on his cheek, then all was lost in unconsciousness. * * * * * after ten solid hours of sleep the airplane party awoke to find their dogs whining and pawing at the entrance to their shelter. "guess they're hungry," said barney, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "now if we could only locate a seal in some water-hole, it would help out our scanty supply of food." "suppose we try," said bruce, slipping into his skin garments and looking to his rifle. "all right," said barney, and without delay they were hurrying to a pressure ridge of ice from whose top they might hope to locate the nearest water-lead. this took them some distance from their camp, but since the air was still and the moon flooded everything with light as of day, this did not worry them. they had reached the height, and were scanning the long lead of water something like a mile to the left of them, when bruce gave a cry of surprise, and, pointing to the south end of the lead, exclaimed: "what's that immense black thing rising from the water? can't be a whale up here, can it?" "impossible! and, look! there's something rising from the center of it! it can't be--yes--it is! it's the submarine!" barney tumbled from the ice ridge and went sprinting away over the ice. his boyhood pal, dave tower, was on that submarine. with greater deliberation, bruce attracted the attention of the major. together they hurried after their companion. the sight that met their eyes as they reached the edge of the water-channel filled them with consternation. the eskimo boy and barney were hurriedly carrying limp, motionless forms from the submarine into the outer air. their worst fears were groundless, however, for after two hours of faithful work they restored the last one of the crew to consciousness. the last to recover was the doctor. "which goes to prove," smiled dave, "that when you most need a doctor, that's the time he's most likely to be sick." there was a moment of joyful reunion between the two pals, barney and dave. as for the explorers, after the danger had passed, they seemed to take little notice of one another. the doctor soon was able to rise unsteadily, and, supported by two of his men, he dragged himself back and forth across the ice. when, at last, he had full possession of his faculties, he suddenly darted into the submarine, reappearing a moment later with instruments. at sight of these, the major's attention once more turned to the task he had left. with backs turned, not twenty yards apart, the two great rivals began taking observations. carefully they spread lines of mercury for an artificial horizon, and painstakingly adjusting their instruments, began to take readings. then, turning to their nautical almanacs, they figured. for some time an awed silence fell on the little group. presently the two men rose, facing one another. smiles played about their lips. for a second they stood thus, then starting toward each other, they extended hands for a clasp--the grip of a mutual admiration. "gentlemen," said the major, the huskiness in his voice betraying his emotion, "we are now within five miles of the pole, and that is as close an observation as any man can hope to make." "might as well call it the pole," smiled the doctor. "i make it three miles." for a time silence again reigned, then it was dave who spoke. "so this is the pole!" he exclaimed. "well, then, it's time for a bit of jazz. bring on your instruments of torture." jazz always was imperfect music, and here, with untutored musicians and rude instruments, it was imperfection itself; but it is doubtful if any music ever soothed unstrung nerves as did this bit of jazz that rent the midnight silence at the top of the world. the applause which followed awakened echoes among the ice-piles, and sent a lone doveky away into the shadows. "well," said the doctor, as the echoes of the last burst of jazz died away, "major, i suppose we are to have the pleasure of your company on our return journey. am i right?" "i am afraid so," the major smiled a bit wanly. "guess our plane is at last beyond repair." "but i say," ejaculated barney, "you can stow the remains of our plane somewhere below, can't you?" "why--er--yes," smiled the doctor. "we've considerable space now, since using the fuel and food. but why freight the junk? what's the grand idea?" "i think we can get a bunch of sled-timber and canvas from the whalers at point barrow and rig her up again." "why? you'll be welcome to come with us all the way." "bruce here, and i," began barney, and bruce grinned at the mention of his name, "have a very special mission that takes us cross-country rather than by water. much as we should like to accept your kind invitation, our mission makes the other route imperative, if it is at all possible to take it." he told them the story of la vaune, of timmie and the ancient pay-roll. "that being the case," agreed the doctor, "i shall be glad to assist you by freighting your plane to point barrow, and i now release my entire crew to help you in demounting it and bringing it to the submarine." as the gobs joined the two young aviators in a wild race across the ice-floes, with jarvis straining after them, the major turned a smiling face toward the doctor, as he remarked: "as fine a bunch as i ever saw." "you're right," said the doctor, "and deserving of a rich reward." "speaking of rewards," said the major quickly, "how about that ten thousand which comes to some of us? i had promised it to my boys, had i won." "and i the same," smiled the doctor. "the puzzle is, who's won!" "suppose we split, fifty-fifty, and, following our original plan, each give his share to his boys." "splendid! just the right thing!" exclaimed the major. "it's a go!" the doctor grasped the major's hand. and this was the glad news that awaited the men as they returned, some dragging poles, some carrying rolls of canvas, while others urged, pushed and pulled at the dog-team drawing a sled on which was loaded the liberty motor. to the aviators was to go five thousand dollars; to the jackies, five thousand. "nothing of the kind!" exclaimed bruce indignantly. "i should say nix!" echoed barney. "why, what could be fairer?" said the doctor, a puzzled look on his face. "why," barney declared, feeling sure he was also speaking for his partner; "we each get two thousand five hundred, and your men who have worked as hard and risked as much, each get a fraction of that sum. i say, nothing doing. share and share alike, man for man, them's my sentiments. get out your pencil and see how many times ten goes in ten thousand. a thousand times? a thousand apiece, that's something like! enough to have a whale of a good time on, or buy a farm. pay your money and take your choice. step up, gents, and try your luck!" when the gobs realized that this wild harangue meant that the aviators wished to split the whole reward with them, they were at first urgent in protest, and, when this availed them nothing, they went wild with cheers for the true sports of the aviation department. of course this all called for another burst of jazz, after which came the work of packing away the parts of the airplane, in which task the gobs showed an enthusiasm which told better than shouts what they thought of the young aviators. after the stars and stripes had been planted on a high ice-pinnacle, a rather solemn supper was eaten in the lee of a giant ice-cake. then, with the jazz band playing "star spangled banner," the submarine sank and the homeward journey was begun. a fortunate voyage brought them to point barrow in sixty-eight hours. there the aviators found the supplies they needed, and began at once preparing for the overland trip. the doctor and the major decided to proceed down the coast by dog-team to cape prince of wales, where they would catch the first boat in the spring. the submarine crew were put "on their own" and instructed to follow down the coast in a safe and leisurely fashion, to report their arrival at the naval station in seattle. bruce and barney succeeded in rigging out the plane in a very satisfactory manner, and one day in early spring they again alighted in timmie's stubble, much to the joy of the entire family. and a few days later they made a landing in the old athletic field of brandon college, where a very happy girl, who had been watching the plane with a wistful eye, came rushing out to meet them. when bruce pressed into her hand a package, and told her of its contents, tears came to her eyes--tears of joy that her struggles were over, but also tears of thankfulness for the safe return of those who had done so much for her. the submarine crew arrived in seattle in due time. there, before they separated for a long leave, which was sure to be followed by honorable discharge, five of them agreed to pool their share of the prize money to charter a craft, preferably a submarine, and go in search of the treasure city of siberia. there was talk, too, of an attempt to induce bruce and barney to join them on the expedition, as an airplane, which could be stowed in the submarine when not in use, would be of inestimable service to them. bruce and barney in due time collected the reward offered for the destruction of the outlaw wireless station. as for the major and the doctor, there is still much speculation in many quarters as to their identity. and, as for myself, i am not able to add any information on the subject. * * * * * the solving of the mystery of the city of gold was, at last, left to david tower and jarvis. the story of this adventure will be told in the next volume of the snell mystery stories for boys series which will be entitled "panther-eye." none the boy scouts of the air on lost island by gordon stuart contents i over the dam ii a hopeless search iii lost island iv more thrills v a startling clew vi to the rescue! vii the flying eagle scouts viii a voyage in the dark ix a rescue that failed x "to-morrow is the day!" xi a mid-air miracle xii an empty rifle shell xiii the game begins xiv patching the "skyrocket" xv a wild night xvi tricked again! xvii the big play xviii a close finish the boy scouts of the air on lost island chapter i over the dam three boys stood impatiently kicking the dew off the tall grass in ring's back yard, only pausing from their scanning of the beclouded, dawn-hinting sky to peer through the lightening dusk toward the clump of cedars that hid the fulton house. "he's not up yet, or there'd be a light showing," grumbled the short, stocky one of the three. "humph--it's so late now he wouldn't be needing a light. tod never failed us yet, frank, and he told me last night that he'd be right on deck." "we'd ought to have gone down right off, jerry, when we saw he wasn't here. frank and i would have stopped off for him, only we was so sure he'd be the first one here--especially when you two were elected to dig the worms." "we dug the worms last night--a lard pail half full--down back of his cabbage patch. and while we were sitting on the porch along comes his father--you know how absent-minded he is--and reaches down into the bucket and says, 'guess i'll help myself to some of your berries, boys.'" "bet you that's why tod isn't here, then." "why, frank ellery, seventh son of a seventh son? coming so early in the morning, your short-circuit brain shockers make us ordinary folks dizzy. this double-action----" "double-action nothing, dave thomas! i heard mr. fulton tell tod yesterday he was to pick four quarts of blackberries and take them over to your aunt jen. tod forgot, and so his dad wouldn't let him go fishing, that's all." "sun's up," announced jerry ring. "so's tod!" exclaimed dave thomas, who had climbed to the first high limbs of a near-by elm and now slid suddenly down into the midst of the piled-up fishing paraphernalia. "i just saw him coming in from the berry patch--here he comes now." a lanky, good-natured looking sixteen-year-old boy, in loose-fitting overalls and pale blue shirt open at the throat, came loping down the path. "gee, fellows," he panted, "i expect you're cussing mad--but i _had_ to pick those berries before i went, and it took me so long to grouch out the green ones after it got light." "i see you brought the very greenest one of all along," observed dave dryly. "oh, you here, too, little one?" as if seeing him for the first time. "i didn't know kindergarten was closed for the day. i make one guess who tipped over the bait can." "ask frank," suggested dave with pretended weariness; "he's got second sight." "don't need second sight to see that worm crawling up your pants leg. we going to stand here all day! i move we get a hike on down to the boat. maybe we can hitch on behind steve porter's launch--he's going up past dead tree point--and that'll save us the long pull through the slough." the boys picked up the great load of luggage, which was not so big when divided among four boys, and hustled out of the ring yard and down the dusty road. they were four of a size; that is, tod fulton was tall and somewhat flattened out, while frank ellery was more or less all in a bunch, as jerry said, who was himself sturdily put together. dave thomas was neither as tall as tod nor as stocky as frank; he looked undersized, in fact. but his "red hair and readier tongue," his friends declared, more than made up for any lack of size. at any rate, no one ever offered a second time to carry the heaviest end of the load. now, as they walked along through the back streets of watertown, rightly named as it was in the midst of lakes, creeks and rivers, they began a discussion that never grew old with them. tod began it. "we've got plenty of worms, for once." "good!" cried dave. "i've thought of a dandy scheme, but it'd take a pile of bait." "what's that?" asked jerry, suspecting mischief. "you know, you can stretch out a worm to about three inches. tie about a hundred together--allow an inch apiece for the knot--that would make two hundred inches, or say seventeen feet. put the back end of the line about a foot up on the bank and the other end out in the water. along comes a carp--the only fish that eats _worms_--and starts eating. he gets so excited following up his links of worm-weenies, that he doesn't notice he's up on shore, when suddenly tod fulton, mighty fisherman, grabs him by the tail and flips him----" "yes--where does he flip him?" tod had dropped his share of the luggage and now had dave by the back of the neck. "back into the water and makes him eat another string of worms as punishment for being a carp." "you with your old dead minnows!" exclaimed tod, giving dave a push that sent him staggering. "last time we went, all you caught was a dogfish and one starved bullhead. there's more real fish that'll bite on worms than on any other bait. i've taken trout and even black bass. early in the morning i can land pickerel and croppies where a minnow or a frog could sleep on the end of a six pounder's nose. don't tell me." "yes," put in jerry, "and i can sit right between the two of you and with my number two skinner and a frog or a bacon rind pull 'em out while you fellows go to sleep between nibbles." "bully!" exclaimed frank. "every time we go home after a trip, you hang a sign on your back: 'fish for sale,' with both s's turned backwards. i'm too modest to mention the name of the boy who caught the largest black bass ever hooked in plum run, but i can tell you the kind of fly the old boy took, all the same." "testimony's all in," laughed tod, good-humoredly. "and here we are at the dock of the 'big four.'" "yes, and there goes porter up around the bend. we row our boat to-day. we ought to get up a show or something and raise enough money to buy a motor." "i move we change our plans and leave round lake for another trip." it was lazy frank who made the proposal. "what difference does it make to you? you never row anyway. plum run's too high for anything but still fishing----" "i saw hunky doran coming back from parry's dam day before yesterday and he had a dandy string." "sure. he always does. bet you he dopes his bait," declared tod. "well, you spit on the worm yourself. the dam isn't half as far as dead tree, and, besides, we can always walk across to grass lake. jerry votes for the dam, don't you, jerry?" but jerry only shrugged his shoulders. frank and tod always disagreed on fishing places, largely because their styles of angling were different and consequently a good place for one was the poorest place in the world for the other. so jerry, who usually was the peacemaker, said nothing but unlocked the padlock which secured the boat, tossed the key-ring to dave with, "open the boathouse and get two pair of oars. tod, take a squint at the sun--five-thirty, isn't it? an hour and a half to the dead tree, and an hour more to round lake. what kind of fish can you take in old roundy after eight o'clock?" "oh, i knew we were going to the dam, all right. i give in. but if i've got to go where i don't want to, i'm going to have the boat to fish from." "as if you didn't always have it!" snorted frank. "the only one who fishes in one place all day, but he's got to have the boat--and forgets himself and walks right off it the minute he gets a real bite. huh!" tod paid no attention to this insult. he and jerry settled in their places at the oars, with frank at the stern for ballast, and dave up ahead to watch the channel, for plum run, unbelievably deep in places, had a trick of shallowing at unlikely spots. more than once had the _big four_ had her paint scraped off by a jagged shelf of rock or shoal. they were all in their places, the luggage stowed away, and frank was ready to push away from the dock, when he raised his hand and said instead: "understand me, boys, i'm the last one in the world to kick--you know me. but there's one request i have to make of you before the push of my fingers cuts us off from the last trace of civilization." "'sw'at?" cried the three. "when we have embarked upon this perilous voyage, let no mournful note swell out upon the breeze, to frighten beasts and men--and fish--into believing that dave thomas is once more _trying_ to sing!" immediately a mournful yowling began in the bow of the boat, growing louder as they drew away from shore. and then, amid the laughter of his three companions, dave ended his wail and instead broke into a lively boating song, the others joining in at the chorus. for dave's singing was a source of pride to his friends. so, dave singing lustily and tod and jerry tugging at the oars in time with the music, they swung away from the dock and out in the center channel of plum run, a good hundred yards from shore. once in the current, they swung straight ahead down stream. before long the last house of watertown, where people were fast beginning to stir, had faded from view. they passed safely through the ripples of the shoals above barren island, a great place for channel cat when the water was lower. through the west branch they steered, holding close to the island shore, for while the current was slower, at least the water was deeper and safer. a mile-long stretch of smooth rowing lay ahead of them now, after which they entered goose slough, narrow and twisty, with half-hidden snags, and sudden whirlpools. more than one fishing party had been capsized in its treacherous quarter mile of boiling length. then came a so-called lake, old grass, with the real grass lake barely visible through its circle of trees. a crystal-clear creek was its outlet to plum run, a thousand gleaming sunfish and tiny bass flashing through its purling rapids or sulking in deep, dark pools. there was good fishing in grass lake, but waist-high marsh grass, saw-edged, barred the way for nearly half a mile. but just ahead of them plum run had widened out once more to real river size, its waters penned back by concrete, rock and timber dam, with parry's mill on the east bank. "land me on the other side, above the big cottonwood," decided frank. "there's a weedy little bight up there where i predict a two-pound bass in twenty minutes." "i'll try the stretch just below, working toward the dam, i guess. how about you, jerry!" asked dave. "i'll stay with the boat awhile, i reckon. where away, boatman?" "dam," grunted tod. "not swearing, i take it?" inquired jerry. "no--fishing there." dave and frank were dropped out at the cottonwood, where they were soon exchanging much sage advice concerning likely spots and proper bait. jerry and tod chuckled as they rowed away. tod himself was keen on still fishing with worms or grubs; he liked to sit and dream while the bait did the work; but his quarreling with dave and frank was mostly make-believe. jerry, the best fisherman of the four, believed, as he said, in "making the bait fit the fish's mouth." his tackle-box held every kind of hook and lure; his steel rod and multiple reel were the best timkin's sporting goods store in town could furnish; they had cost him a whole summer's savings. tod rather laughed at jerry's equipment. his own cheap brass reel and jointed cane pole, with heavy linen line, was only an excuse. throw-lines with a half dozen hooks were his favorites, and a big catfish his highest aim. as soon as the boat hit the dam he began getting out his lines. jerry jumped lightly over the bow. "shall i tie you up?" he called over his shoulder. "never mind, jerry. i think i'll work in toward the shore a bit first, and, anyway, she can't drift upstream." so jerry went on his way out toward the middle of the dam. it was really a monstrous affair, that dam. the old part was built on and from solid rock, being really a jutting out of a lime stone cliff which had stood high and dry before the water had been dammed up by the heavy timber cribs cutting across the original stream. concrete abutments secured these timbers and linked the walls of stone with the huge gates opening into the millrace that fed the water to the ponderous undershot millwheel. just now the gates were open and the water rushed through with deafening force. jerry made his way across the stonework section, having a hard time in the water-worn crevices, slimed over with recent overflows, for when the millgates were closed, plum run thundered over this part of the dam in a spectacular waterfall. he had hardly reached the flat concrete before he noticed that the roar from the millrace had ceased; the gates had been closed. all the better; this part of the river was shallow; when the water rose, big fish would be coming in to scour over the fresh feeding grounds. so he moved a little nearer shore and quickly trimmed his lines. he heard a hail from the bank as he made his first cast. it was from dave. "mind if i come out and try my luck beside you?" "not at all. water's coming up fast. best try some grubs or worms, though. no good for minnows here now." "sure," agreed dave, settling comfortably beside him. "water sure is filling up, isn't she? guess the miller of the dee dropped a cogwheel into his wheat." "not wishing anybody any bad luck, but i hope they don't start up again all day. this'll be a backwater as soon as the current starts going over the dam. another six inches--say! look at tod. if he isn't fishing right above the flume. wonder if he's noticed." "noticed? he's got a bite, that's what! look at him bending to it. it's a big one, you bet. golly, did you see that!" "i see more than that," exclaimed jerry grimly, dropping his precious pole and starting across the slippery rocks on the run. "if he doesn't get out of there in about thirty seconds, he's going over the dam!" but just as jerry mounted the last clump of rocks, just as dave's desperate shouts had aroused tod to a realization of his danger,--something happened. you have watched a big soap bubble swelling the one last impossible breath; you have seen a camp coffee kettle boiling higher and higher till _splush!_ the steaming brown mass heaves itself into the fire--the bending, crowding mile-wide surface of plum creek found a sudden outlet. and right in the center of that outlet was a plunging tiny boat. "help!" rang out one choked-off cry, as in a great rush of suddenly foaming flood, over the dam plunged a boat and a terrorized boy. chapter ii a hopeless search in the brief instant that jerry stood on the slippery point of rock he had the queer feeling that it was all a horrible dream, or at least only an impossible scene from a motion picture. where a boat had been a second before was now only a seething, tossing down-tumbling wall of brownish foam. but his stunned inaction was quickly gone. down to the very edge of the flood he raced, almost losing his balance and toppling in. at a dangerous angle he leaned over and peered into the churning water-pit below. dave had come hurrying to his side, to miss his footing at the last and plunge waist-deep into the current. a precious moment was lost in rescuing him. when, both safe on the rocky ledge, they turned to scan the depths of the fall, it was to see a dark object suddenly pop up full fifty feet downstream. it was the boat--but no tod. "did you see it!" cried jerry excitedly. "didn't it look like something blackish in the bottom of the boat?" "she's full of water, that's all. tod's down there under the fall. he's drowned, i tell you! what shall we do? what shall we do!" excitable dave was fast losing his head. "come on!" shouted jerry, aroused by the helplessness of his companion. "we've got to get to the mill and have them turn the water through the race. then we've got to get a boat out there--quick!" but he had not waited for dave. across the river just below the dam was a house. if there was a telephone there--jerry knew there was one at the mill--something might yet be done in time. there was of course no way of reaching the mill itself across that raging torrent. there _was_ a telephone at the house, but it seemed hours after jerry reached it before he finally got a gruff "hello" from the mill manager, mr. aikens. but, fortunately, aikens was not slow to grasp the situation. in the midst of his explanations jerry realized that there was no one at the other end of the wire. out of the house he dashed and down to where in his wild race he had seen a boat moored below the dam. the oars were still in place. barely waiting for the panting dave to tumble in, he pushed off, exultingly noting as he strained at the oars that already the volume of water pouring over the falls had lessened. before he reached the main channel it had dwindled to a bare trickle. "take the oars!" he directed the helpless dave, at the same time stumbling to the bow of the boat and jerking off shoes, shirt and trousers. diving seemed a hopeless undertaking, but there was little else to do. again and again he plunged under, coming up each time nearly spent but desperately determined to try again. two boats put out from the mill side of the river, capable mr. aikens in one of them. a grappling hook trailing from the stern of the boat told that such accidents as this were not unusual in treacherous plum run. then began a search that exhausted their every resource. the ill word had speedily gone around among the nearer houses, and in the course of an hour a great crowd of men appeared from watertown itself. the water was black with boats and alive with diving bodies. hastily constructed grappling hooks raked the narrow stream from side to side. a big seine was even commandeered from a houseboat up the river and dragged back and forth across the rough river bed till the men were worn out. but all to no avail. every now and then a shout of discovery went up, but the booty of the grappling hooks invariably proved to be only watersoaked logs or mud-filled wreckage. once they were all electrified at a black-haired body dislodged by a clam-rake, that came heavily to the surface and then sank, to be the subject of ten minutes frantic dragging, only to be finally revealed as the body of an unfortunate dog. it was heart-breaking work, and the tension was not lessened with the appearance on the scene of mr. fulton, tod's father. he said nothing, but his hopeless silence was more depressing than any words of grief could have been. jerry and dave and frank, feeling in some queer way guilty of their friend's death, could not meet his eyes as he asked dully how it had happened. the dreary day dragged to a weary close, and the sun sank behind heavy clouds black with more than one rumbling promise of storm. the boys toiled doggedly on, weak from hunger, for their lunches had gone over with the boat, and, anyway, they would not have had the heart to swallow a bite. lanky, good-natured tod fulton--drowned! it simply couldn't be. but the fast darkening water, looking cruel now, and menacing, where it had laughed and rippled only that morning, gave the lie to their hopes. hopes? the last one had gone when mr. aikens had said: "never heard of anybody's being brought to after more than two hours under water. only thing we can hope for is to find the body. i'm going to telephone to town and tell 'em to send out some dynamite." it was already dusk when this decision was made, and it was after nine o'clock before an automobile brought a supply of dynamite sticks and detonating caps. in the meanwhile a powerful electric searchlight had been brought over from the interurban tracks a scant mile west of the river line, and the millwheel had been shafted to the big dynamo and was generating current to flash dazzling rays of light across the water. mayor humphreys, from watertown, and mr. aikens were chosen to set off the dynamite, while watchers lined the shores, sharp-eyed in the hope of catching sight of the body when it should come to the muddied surface of plum run after the dynamite had done its work. charge after charge was set off, and countless hundreds of fish were stunned or killed by the terrific force of the explosive, but no body of a hapless sixteen-year-old boy rewarded the anxious searchers. up and down the river combed the dynamiters, and glare and crash rent the night for a mile down the stream. it began to look as if other means would have to be resorted to--the saddest of all, perhaps--time. sometime, somewhere, after days or even weeks, ten, twenty, fifty, a hundred miles down the river, a sodden, unrecognizable body would be washed up on sand-bar or mud-bank. it was a sickening thought. "have all the river towns been telegraphed?" asked a bystander, of the mayor. a nod of the head was his only answer. "we may as well go home," was the final reluctant verdict. "we can come back in the morning." mr. fulton alone refused to abandon the search, and mr. aikens kindly offered to bear him company till daybreak brought others to take his place. when all had gone save these two and the three boys, jerry approached and tried to draw mr. aikens aside. "do you suppose," he began with a kind of despairing eagerness, "that he could have stayed in the boat?" aikens shook his head. "not a chance in the world," he declared. "but i thought----" began jerry, to be interrupted by mr. aikens, who finally contented himself with merely repeating: "not a chance in the world." they were silent until at last mr. aikens, moved by some impulse of kindliness, for he could hardly help guessing how miserable the boy's thoughts must be, added: "you thought what, lad?" "the boat was full of water, of course, but when she popped up, it looked like there was something black in the bottom----" "you saw the boat go over, didn't you! it must have turned over and over a dozen times down there in that whirlpool, even if he had stayed in till she lit. but he couldn't have. and even if----" "yes" urged jerry, but without enthusiasm. "if he _was_ in the bottom of the boat he would have been drowned just the same, knocked senseless as he probably was by the terrific force of the fall and the tons of water plunging on top of him. mind you, i don't think there was one chance in a million but that he was dashed out long before the boat hit bottom." "but where's the--the body, then?" objected jerry miserably. "if grappling hooks and seines and dynamite couldn't answer that question, don't expect me to. look here, lad, i know you feel all cut up over it, but think of how his poor father feels----" "i am--that's what makes me feel as if it was partly my fault." "now--now--don't take it like that. man and boy i've lived on this and other rivers a good many years over forty, and a drowning i've known for every one of those years. the water's a treacherous dame--she smiles at you in the sunshine, and the little waves kiss each other and play around your boat, but the shadows lurk deep and they're waiting, waiting, i tell you. the old river takes her toll. it happened to be _your_ friend, that's all. but it wasn't anybody's fault. mr. fulton would be the last one in the world to think so." jerry looked over at mr. fulton, who had finally ended his mute pacing up and down, and now sat, chin in hand, staring out across the water. a sudden impulse made the boy go over and stand for awhile, silent, beside the grief-stricken man. he wanted to say something, but the words would not come. so, after a little, he walked upstream to where dave and frank huddled against an overturned boat; the night was growing a bit chill. "moon's coming up," remarked frank as jerry settled down beside them. no one answered. "it's awful to sit around and not move a finger to find him," shivered dave at last. "seems as if there ought to be something we could do." "do you know what i think?" replied jerry, almost eagerly. "i think i was right about that boat. i've been trying to remember what we left in the boat that could have looked like--like what i saw when she came up. there wasn't a thing in the boat--not a thing. it was tod i saw--i know it was!" "but he never could have stayed in," objected frank. "that's what mr. aikens said--and everybody else. but tell me what else it could have been i saw. i saw _some_thing, _that_ i know." "we ought to have gone after the boat," admitted dave, slowly. "we didn't do a bit of good here, that's sure." "but we didn't know that at the time," frank argued. "everybody'd have blamed us if we'd gone on a wild goose chase down the river after an empty boat----" "but nobody would have said a word if we'd found him in the bottom of a boat everybody else thought was empty. if the moon was only higher----" "you don't catch me drilling off down plum bun at night, moon or no moon. there's a rattlesnake or copperhead for every hundred yards!" it was frank who took up jerry's thought. "besides, it would be different if we hadn't waited so long. tod--tod's--he's dead now," voicing at last the feeling they had never before put into words. there was a gruffness in jerry's voice as he answered, a gruffness that tried hard to mask the trembling of his tones. "i know it, but--but--i want to do something for mr. fulton. won't you fellows go along with me? i guess i--i'll go." "down river?" asked both boys, but without eagerness. "till we find the boat." "it's no use," said frank. "our folks'll cane us now when we get home. going along, dave--with me?" "how far do you s'pose the boat's drifted by now, jerry?" asked dave instead of answering frank. "can't tell. she's probably stuck on a sandbar or a snag, anywhere from five to twenty-five miles down. don't go along, dave, unless you want to." "better come home with me," urged frank. "do you _need_ me along, jerry?" queried dave uncertainly. "no--" shortly--"no _i_ don't. mr. fulton does--tod does." jerry rose stiffly to his feet and started slowly off in the faint moonlight, without so much as a look behind. "so long, jerry," called frank. "come on, dave." but dave slowly shook his head and reluctantly followed the footsteps of his chum. "hold on a minute, old man; i'll stick with you." chapter iii lost island it was only a thin edge of a moon that now stood barely above the low line of tree-covered hills beyond the east bank of the river. the light it gave was a misty, watery sort of ray that was a doubtful help in walking over the broken shore line. the two boys were too occupied in watching their footing to do much talking. jerry led the way, bearing to the water's edge, finally stopping where a light rowboat had been pulled well up on the rocky beach. "we'll have to divide forces, i guess. in this uncertain light we never could be sure of seeing the boat if she was on the other side. i'll cut across while you go down this bank." "why not take the boat and go down the middle?" "too hard work getting through the shallows, and, besides, this way we're closest to the place where the boat would most likely have been snagged. we can go lots faster on foot. we'll keep about opposite each other; we can yell across once in a while and it won't be quite so lonesome. you go ahead till you get below the riffles, and wait there till i catch up with you." jerry stepped into the boat and took up the oars. dave gave the boat a mighty shove that almost put the stern under the water. "hey! what you kids doing?" bellowed a gruff voice that the boys hardly recognized as being that of mr. aikens. "just duck and say nothing," called jerry guardedly to dave. "he might try to stop us." so dave scurried into the shadows of near-by trees, while jerry bent low over his oars and noiselessly shot the boat out into safe waters. it was the work of only a few minutes to push the nose of his boat high and dry on the sand of the opposite shore. he was in the heavy shadow of a big cottonwood and felt safe from peering eyes, so without wasting time to mask his movements he jumped out and scurried along the bank. a level stretch of a hundred yards carried him around a bend; he stopped for a brief rest and a glance toward the other side, where a great crashing of bushes told him that dave was safely out of sight and well on his way toward the riffles. a chuckle almost escaped jerry as he listened to the thrashing about, but remembrance of their errand killed the laughter. in fact, the chuckle turned to a genuine sob, for tod fulton was his closest chum. so, without an instant's pause, he made his way to the foot of the riffles, where their search would really begin. how soon it would end, there was no telling; it might be one mile; it might be twenty. but jerry grimly determined that he would carry the undertaking through to the end. the riffles was really a succession of pools of treacherous depths, joined by foaming, rock-broken rapids. the bank was lined with great boulders through which a day-time path wound a difficult way. jerry wasted no time in trying to follow it, but skirted far around through a waist-high cornfield. a barb-wire fence held him prisoner long enough to allow dave to break cover first on the opposite shore and send a vigorous but quavery "hello" across the water. "i'm stuck on the fence!" shouted jerry in return. "go ahead. i'll be along directly." but he noticed that dave stood waiting on the shore when he finally managed to release himself and broke through the thin fringe of willows. "all right, dave," he urged. "let's not be losing any time." for a while the going was much easier. on jerry's side a wide reach of sand lay smooth and firm in the pale moonlight. on dave's side a few yards of sand lay between a steep bank and the water's edge, but every few hundred feet a shallow creek broke through and forced wading. there was no chance for the boat to have stranded here, and the boys hurried along. within a mile the character of the ground changed. now the water lapped along under high, steep banks, with tiny, willow-covered islands alternating with bass-haunted snags of dislodged trees barricaded with driftwood. the moon cast queer shadows and more than once jerry's heart felt a wild thrill as he fancied he saw a boat hull outlined against the silvered current. every few hundred yards the two boys stopped and sent encouraging shouts across the widening water. it was a lonesome, disheartening task, with every step making the task all the harder. deep bays cut into the shore line; the feeder creeks grew wider and deeper. the night air was chill on their dripping shoulders. plum run was no longer a run--it was a real river, and dave's voice sounded far off when he came out on some bare point to shout his constant: "nothing doing--yet." they were now on a part of the river that was comparatively strange to them. jerry had more than once followed the plum this far south, but it had always been by boat, or at best on the west bank, dave's territory, where a chain of lakes followed the course of the river. each new twist and turn sent a shiver of nervous dread through him. many the story of rattlers and copperheads he had heard from fishermen and campers--and the night was filled with unexpected and disturbing noises, overhead and underfoot. of course he knew that snakes are not abroad at night, but the knowledge did not help his nerves. moreover, they were drawing near lost island, and no boy of watertown had ever been known to cast a line within half a mile of that dreaded spot. for lost island was the "haunted castle" of the neighborhood. it was nothing more than a large, weed-and-willow-covered five acres, a wrecked dam jutting out from the east bank, and a great gaunt pile of foundation masonry standing high and dry on a bare knoll at the north end. it had a history--never twice told the same. the dam had been dynamited, that much was sure. by whom, no one knew. the house, if ever a house had been built over those rain-bleached rocks, had been struck by lightning, hurricane, blown up by giant powder, rotted away--a dozen other tragic ends, as the whim of the story-teller dictated. the owner had been murdered, lynched, had committed suicide--no one knew, but everyone was positive that there was something fearfully, terribly wrong with lost island. it was one of the few islands in plum run which was not flooded over by the spring freshets, and the land was fertile, yet no one had ever been known to live there through a season; this in spite of the fact that lost island was known as "squatter's land," open to settlement by anyone who desired it. and lost island lay barely half a mile farther down the river. jerry fervently hoped that their search would be ended before they were in the shadow of that forsaken territory. his nerves were not calmed any by the tremble in dave's voice as he shouted across: "lost island's just below us, jerry. shall we go on?" "sure thing, dave!" called jerry with a confidence he did not feel. "it can't be any worse than what we've already gone through--and we've gone through _that_ all right." "supposing," hesitated dave, "supposing the boat's grounded on lost island itself----" "it's the boat we're looking for, isn't it?" but jerry knew as he spoke, that, hard as the going was, he would be well satisfied to discover the boat five weary miles farther on. once more they plodded along, the dark, forbidding hulk of lost island looming nearer and nearer. just before passing behind the northern point jerry came out to the water's edge and had cupped his hands about his mouth for a final reassuring shout, when a sudden discovery made him pause. a shout, that seemed to split in mid-air, convinced him that dave too had just then caught sight of the astounding object. it was a gleaming, flickering, ruddy light, and it came from the very center of lost island! jerry's first thought was fright. but that soon gave way to the wildest of conjectures. suppose tod had been in the boat. suppose he had come to in time, but too weak to do more than remain in the boat till it grounded here on lost island. a waterproof match-safe easily accounted for the fire. jerry refused to allow himself to reason any further. there might be a dozen reasons why tod had not swum the scant hundred yards to shore. "do you see it!" finally came a shout from the other side. "it's a camp fire," called jerry. "do you suppose it could possibly be----" "it couldn't be tod, _could_ it!" came the answer, showing the same wild hope that had surged through jerry. "oh--_tod!_" rang out from two trembly throats on both sides of the river. there was no reply. at least there came no answering shout. but the next instant jerry rubbed his eyes in bewilderment. the camp fire had been blotted out as if by magic. only the deep gloom of thick-set willows lay before him. "the fire's gone!" came in alarmed tones from dave. "_tod--oh, tod!_" rang out once more through the still night air. this time there was an answer, but not the one the boys expected. a gruff voice demanded angrily: "say, you idiots--what in the thunder you want!" "we're looking for a boy who was drowned up at----" began jerry, who was closest to the high point where a man was presently seen stalking through the fringe of bushes. "boy who was drowned? _calling_ for him! ye crazy loons!" interrupted the man. "we don't know whether he was drowned or not," answered jerry hotly. "well i'll never tell you," was the surly response. with a disgusted shrug of the shoulders the great hulk of a man slouched back toward the center of the island, pausing just before he disappeared once more in the wilderness to warn: "any more of that howling's going to bring a charge of buckshot, and i don't care which of you i hit." "do you care if we come over and look along the shore of the island?" shouted dave at the retreating figure. the answer, which was more like a growl than a human response, left no doubt of the man's meaning. neither boy felt the slightest desire to swim across to lost island. instead jerry waved his arms over his head and then pointed downstream. so once more they trudged along, disheartened more than ever, for somehow the actions of that weird figure on lost island had made their search look more of a wild goose chase than ever. the island was soon passed, but jerry found himself peering hopelessly across a sluggish, muddy-bottomed slough that promised many a weary minute of wading before he could hope to establish communication with his companion again. so it was with a great feeling of relief that, once more on solid ground, he heard dave's call. "say, jerry, we're pretty near down to tomlinson's wagon bridge. what you say that we hustle on down and meet halfway across--and wait there for daylight. i'm about woozified." "good!" agreed jerry, pleased that the suggestion had come from dave. "even the thought of it rests my old legs till they feel like new. i'll just race you to it!" but it was a slow sort of race, for neither boy was willing to take a chance in passing the most innocent shadow--which always turned out to be a water-soaked log or a back-eddied swirl of foam. nevertheless, it was a spent dave who sank gasping to the rough plank floor of the middle span of the wagon bridge a scant second ahead of another puffing boy. a good ten minutes they lay there, breathing hard. then both rose and walked over to the edge and leaned heavily against the girders as they looked gloomily down the river. "looks almost hopeless, doesn't it!" admitted jerry, finally. "worst of it is we don't really know whether she's down below yet or if we've passed it. she was riding pretty low." "wonder what that man was doing on lost island?" speculated jerry, crossing wearily to the north edge of the bridge and peering through the gray dawn-mist toward the island, barely visible now. a mere twinkle of light showed among the trees, and he stood there for a long minute. dave come to his side, and the two waited in silence for the dawn. jerry had almost fallen asleep standing up, when a sudden clutch at his arm nearly overbalanced him and sent him tumbling off the dizzy height. "look!" gasped dave. "what is it?" exclaimed jerry, turning to his companion, all sleep gone. "i'll swear it's the boat--right under us!" chapter iv more thrills it was only a bare few seconds before the floating object had passed within the shadow of the bridge, but there could be no doubt about it; it was a boat, riding so low that only her outline showed. jerry rubbed his eyes in disbelief, but for only an instant. then he sprang to the other side of the bridge, shedding hat, coat, trousers, shirt and shoes, on the way. so, at least, it seemed to dave, who caught his chum's arm, as jerry poised himself, his body white and gleaming in the moonlight, on the high rail that ran along the edge. "what you going to do, jerry? it's a good thirty feet to the water--and you don't know how deep it is down there." "i'm diving shallow, dave; two feet is all i ask below. we can't take any chances of losing her. carry my clothes along the bank, will you? i'll try to make the east side--it looks a little closer." in the few seconds they had talked, the boat had drifted under the bridge and now cut through the silver-edged shadow of the last timbers. there was a quiver of the flimsy railing, a slender body cut through the moonlight, parted the water with a clean _sush!_ and bobbed up almost immediately, within three feet of the boat. jerry ring did not have the reputation of being the best diver in watertown for nothing. now ensued a great kicking and churning as jerry's legs transformed themselves into propellers for the salvaged "_big four_." progress was slow; the waterlogged craft lay in the river like so much cordwood. more than once jerry had to stop for a few minutes' rest. but little by little he neared shore, encouraged by dave, who impatiently awaited the landing, wading out finally waist-deep to help. neither one said a word as the boat was at last beached. no more than the barest glance was needed to tell that there was nothing in the boat but water. theirs had been a fruitless chase. "well," said dave, slowly, after a long silence, "i guess that ends our last hope." "i'm afraid you're right," agreed jerry dejectedly. "but there's one thing that puzzles me--do you notice how much water there is in the boat? it's a good ten inches from the top--how full would it have been when she popped up from under the falls at the dam?" "she'd have been right up to the top, i suppose. why?" "well, what i want to know is: how did it get out? and, what's more, i'd like to know how it would have taken the boat all these hours to float those few miles. plum run's got a six mile an hour current up above, and it's at least four here. there's something mighty funny about it all to me." "but mightn't it just have been snagged or shoaled up above, and finally worked loose?" "sure, i know that. but i know the boat was drifting about as fast as we were walking, and that being the case, she must have cleared lost island just about three minutes after we talked with that man!" "you're getting excited, jerry--over nothing." "nothing! you call the water that was _baled_ out of the boat nothing. it _was_ baled out, i tell you. and look at that rope--it was _cut_ loose. somebody was in too big a hurry to untie knots, that's my guess." "but, jerry, what in the world are you driving at, anyway!" "i don't know. something about the way that man back there on lost island acted set me thinking away in the back of my head. i didn't realize what it was that was going on in my cranium until i noticed this cut rope and say!" jerry's voice rose in high excitement. "_dave!_ dave--do you remember? the _bucket!_" dave only stared at his friend in bewilderment. "wha--what bucket?" he at last managed to gasp. "you remember last week when we were out, and the storm caught us and pretty nearly swamped the boat? tod said he'd bet we'd never be caught without a bailing can again--and he put a lard pail on a snap hook under the back seat. it's gone!" "but what if--why, pshaw, it could easy have worked loose and floated away. i don't see what there is to be so worked up about." "but, dave, don't you see----" jerry was trembling with excitement. "suppose tod _had_ stayed in the boat, and he came to, and he didn't have any oars. first off he'd try to bale her out, wouldn't he? he'd bale out just enough so she'd ride easy, and then he'd try to get to shore. maybe he landed on lost island. suppose he did, and suppose that ruffian we saw didn't want him to get off again. what else would the man do but cut loose the boat when we came along!" "jerry, don't you think we'd better be getting on home?" "what's the matter with you, dave?" "why, nothing, jerry----" "then what you talking about going on home when i'm running down a clew like that?" "it's almost morning, jerry, and you've had a hard day and been up all night--and the lonesome chase through the dark----" "now look here, davie! if you think i'm getting soft in the head, just forget it. i never was more in earnest in my life. don't you understand? i think tod's alive--_back there on lost island!_" "but we don't know he was in the boat----" "look here, dave, if you were falling, what'd be the first thing you'd do? you'd grab at the nearest thing to you, wouldn't you! and if you got hold of that boat-seat, for instance, you'd pretty near hang on, wouldn't you? i saw _something_ in the bottom of the boat when she came up." "yes, but we don't know the boat touched lost island----" "no, of course not. but most always when i see a sign that says 'no fishing allowed,' i know there's fish there." "you certainly talk as if you were out of your head. what's fishing got to do with it?" "the man was not overly anxious to have us come out and make a search of _his_ island. i'm going back up there and i'm going to swim across or _get_ across and i'm going to find out what he has there he doesn't want us to see. are you game to go along?" "but supposing there's nothing there, and the man----" "that island doesn't belong to anybody. we've got as much right there as he has. the worst he can do is to kick us off, and there's only one of him against _two_ of us. come on." before they left, however, they tipped their boat over and emptied out nearly all the water. then, as they had no oars to row her back, they tied her by the short length of rope left, to a stout willow. jerry resumed his clothing, and shivering a bit in the cool morning air, was eager to warm up with a good brisk walk. they were on the east side of the river, and the trail would have been hard enough even in broad daylight, but jerry would waste no time in crossing over when a few minutes later they halted at the bridge. home lay on the other side of the river, and dave, still unconvinced, stubbornly insisted on following the west bank, but jerry soon cut short the argument by striding off in disgust. after a minute of uncertainty dave tagged along behind. neither spoke; to tell the truth, they were both decidedly cold, hungry and cross. the damp, fishy smell of the river somehow set their nerves on edge, and the long drill through swamps and across creeks and sloughs appeared none too enticing. "i say, jerry," called davie finally, "let's stop for a breath of air; i'm about petered out." "can't," replied jerry shortly. "sky's getting gray now. we've got to get _there_ before daylight. if we can catch our friend on the island asleep it'll make things a lot easier. pull your belt up a notch and see if you can't put the notch into your legs." dave grumbled but obediently hastened his gait. in single file they cut across the last stretch of knee-deep mud and halted opposite lost island. there it lay, beyond the narrow stretch of steaming, misty black water, dark and forbidding. there was something shivery about its low-lying-heavy outline, with nothing visible beyond the border of thick willow growth. "looks like some big crouching animal, doesn't it?" remarked dave as they stood an instant peering across. "well, we know it can't spring--and it won't bite, i guess." "i'm not so sure. how are we going to get over?" "swim it, unless--no, i guess we won't swim--not, at least, if there's a pair of oars in that flat-boat i see yonder. funny we didn't stumble over it when we came down." "maybe it wasn't here then. maybe the man came over in it. we better not stand here in the open. we don't know what minute he might be back." "well, if it is his boat, at least we don't need to worry about running onto him over there on the island." "you're going to swim over, aren't you, jerry? if the man came along and found his boat gone, he'd know _we_ were over there and----" "and he'd be stranded on this side until we were so kind as to bring back his boat. you can bet _he_ isn't going to swim over, and i bet you i don't either." the boat proved to be a cumbersome flat-boat of the type used by clam-fishers. in fact the smell that simply swirled up from its oozy bottom left no doubt that the boat had been used for that purpose. a pair of unbelievably heavy oars, cut from a sapling with a hand-axe, trailed in the water from "loose oarlocks." dave gave a gasp of dismay as he "hefted" the rough implements. "let's swim it, jerry," he said disgustedly. "the boat'll never hold up the oars and us too. they weigh a ton." "pile in," answered jerry, with the first laugh since that tragic moment when he had seen a different boat swept over the dam many weary miles up the river. "we'll each take an oar and try some two-handed rowing. this craft was built for ocean-going service. hold tight; we're off." but they weren't. jerry's mighty push ended in a grunt. "come on; get out here and shove." "maybe if we took the oars out we could start her," dave jibed. "i hope you've got a freight-hauling license." "get out and push. your witty remarks are about as light as those young tree-trunks we have for paddles. all together now!" as dave bent over beside him. a lurch, a grinding, thumping slide, and the flat-boat slid free of shore. "it's a mighty good thing if that man isn't on the island," remarked dave as he took up his half of the propelling mechanism. "because when our craft took the water she certainly did 'wake the echoes of yon wooded glen,' as the poet says." "poetry's got nothing to do with this boat. it doesn't rhyme with anything but blisters. let's see if we can move her." thanks to some tremendous tugging, the flat-boat moved slowly out from shore. inch by inch, it seemed, they gained on the current. "the old tub's got speed in her," grunted jerry, between sweeps of his oar. "ought to have it _in_ her," returned dave. "i'll bet you nobody ever got it _out_ of her. ugh!" "always grunt out toward the back of the boat--keep your head turned. it helps us along." "i've only got one grunt left; i'm saving it. how far have we gone?" "all of ten feet. i'll tell you when we hit the island. lift your oar out of water when you bring it back. the idea is to move the boat, not merely to stir up the water." so they joked each other, but their hearts were heavy enough, for always in the back of their minds was the thought of their friend, who, in spite of the wild hope that jerry had built up, might--_must_, dave was sure--be lying at the bottom of treacherous plum run somewhere, drowned. at last they seemed to be nearly halfway across, and they rested a brief spell, for every inch of their progress had to be fought for. "all right," said jerry, taking up his oar, "let's give her another tussle." but dave did not move, although he still hunched over his oar. "come on, dave," urged his friend. "we don't want to lose any time. the sun ought to be up almost any minute now." "look behind you, old man. right where we're headed, and tell me what you see." jerry turned in his seat. he took one quick glance toward lost island, now less than a hundred feet away, and then gave a low cry of dismay. chapter v a startling clew there was a streak of light in the western sky, whether caused by the low-hanging, mist-hidden moon or a freak reflection of the coming dawn. against that patch of brightness the northern headland of lost island loomed up high and barren save for its one tall tree. but it was neither headland nor tree that caught jerry's attention and caused the gasp of dismay. standing there, bold and menacing, looking like a giant against the queer light, was a man. whether it was the same one who had hailed them earlier in the morning, the boys could not of course know. but there was no doubt about the equal unfriendliness of his attitude, for through the crook of one elbow he carried a shotgun, while even as jerry turned in his seat, the other arm was raised and a big fist shaken. the next instant they were assured that this was the same man as had warned them away before. there was no mistaking the voice that bellowed across the water. neither was there any mistaking the meaning of the brief sentence: "get to thunder out o' here!" jerry stood up in the boat and waved a friendly hand in the general direction of the angry man, and called pleasantly: "we were just coming over to see about a boy we think landed on _your_ island last night or early this morning. we found his boat down at the bridge and we figured that he must have----" as jerry talked, dave had been slyly urging the boat closer to shore, but at a sudden interruption from the island, both he and jerry paused. "you come another foot closer, you young idiots, and i'll fill you full of rock salt. i loaded up especial for you when you raised that rumpus last night; i knew durned well you'd be coming back." "have you seen anything of our friend?" cried dave anxiously, trying to smooth things over by being civil. "if he's anything like you two, i hope i never do." "you've got no right to keep us off lost island," began jerry hotly. "i don't need any right; i've got a shotgun. you two just pick up your paddles and blow back to shore--and be sure you tie up that boat good and tight or i'll have the law on you. git, now!" there didn't seem to be anything else to do. the two boys muttered to each other, and neither one was willing to admit believing that the man would really shoot, but somehow they were unwilling to put it to the test. reluctantly they took up the oars again and turned the nose of the boat back toward the east bank. facing the man now, jerry sent one last appeal across the slowly widening space. "we didn't mean any harm. a friend of ours was drowned yesterday, we think. we're looking for him--or his body. all we want is to know if you've seen anything of him." "i told you this morning i hadn't." "but why don't you let us look on the island? we're almost sure our boat was stranded there a long while. he _might_ have been in it. if you'd just let us look, we'd be satisfied." "i guess you'll be satisfied anyway, youngster. just keep on rowing. where was young fulton drowned, anyway?" jerry made no answer. when dave undertook to shout a reply, jerry silenced him with a savage look. then he stood up on his seat. making a megaphone of his hands he yelled derisively: "yah! he _wasn't drowned!_" then he sat down again and caught up his oar and began lunging desperately at the water. "hurry, dave, hurry!" he commanded excitedly. "what's got into you?" exclaimed dave impatiently. "you've been flying off on about forty different angles lately. what new bug has bitten you?" "bug! dave, do you mean to tell me you didn't hear what the man said?" "course i did--but we're going, aren't we? he didn't say he'd shoot unless we kept on coming ahead." "oh--_that!_ well, you've been up all night, so no wonder you're half asleep. didn't you hear him say: 'where was young fulton drowned?'" "sure." "well?" "well what? what in thunder's got into you? why shouldn't he ask that?" "he should have. he should have asked it the first time we talked to him. but, gee whiz, dave, he shouldn't have known it was _young fulton_ unless--unless it was young fulton himself who told him. dave--dave! don't you see? we never mentioned his name." "great guns!" gasped dave. that was all he said, and for that matter, all that either one said. the man stood on the point of lost island till he was satisfied that the boys had tied the boat safely and did not mean to loiter in the neighborhood. then he disappeared among the trees of the lower part of the island. but the boys did not pay much attention to their late antagonist, save for a bare glance as they topped the high ridge that followed the river course. miles to the north they could see a big square white building that they knew as carter's mills, really only a grain storage elevator. almost due west of that was the milldam, which was about the only place they could hope to be able to cross plum run--and watertown lay on the other side. of course, they might follow the river bank on the chance of meeting some good-hearted fisherman or camper who would row them across. but the chance was too slim. they decided to cut across country till they reached the mill. it was a long, hard drill on an empty stomach. up hill and down dale, and every step kept time to by a pang from the inner man. "do you think it's a sin to steal?" this from dave. "certainly." "apples!" "apples? a sin? not if you know where there are any. lead me to them." "oh, i don't know where any are. i just wondered what you thought of it." "do you think it's wrong to punish criminals?" this from jerry. "put 'em in jail you mean?" "well, whatever way seems best." "no, i can't say as i do. why, jerry?" "i'm going to thump you good and plenty for fooling me about those apples, that's why." "catching comes before thumping!" and dave was off with all the speed his weary legs could muster. fortunately jerry's legs were in no better shape, so the race, while exciting enough, was a long, slow one. before jerry was able to overhaul his chum, he was so tired out that anything so strenuous as thumping was quite out of the question. "if you'd just kept running straight ahead, instead of ducking and dodging, we'd be home by now," he complained as he released the puffing dave. but at that they had made good time through their chase and within a very few minutes the last bend of the river showed them the milldam. the place was deserted. "i guess mr. aikens persuaded tod's father to go back home and get breakfast and rest up a bit," remarked dave. "if there doesn't happen to be a boat on this side of the river we may have to wait some time for that breakfast you've been promising me the last ninety-eight miles. we sure can't get across the dam, with all that water rushing over." "i'll swim it before i wait," grimly declared jerry. "do you suppose mr. aikens took the mill boat?" "most likely. where'll you try it, below or above? swimming, i mean." "no chance below, with that current. but i guess we won't need to. i see pete galpin's clam-boat down at his dock. it leaks like sin, but if one bails while the other rows i guess we can make it." no one was astir at galpin's shanty, a houseboat pulled high and dry on shore, and almost hidden by great piles of driftwood snagged upon the bank to serve as winter fuel. old pete galpin lived there all alone, fishing and clamming and occasionally taking a wood-cutting contract to help out through the scant winter months. once he had been known to work with an ice-cutting gang, but quit because he was afraid he'd make so much money that it would tempt somebody to rob him. the flat-boat that was moored down at galpin's "dock"--four railroad ties roped together--was none too substantial looking, having been built by galpin himself from odds and ends picked up from scrap heaps and driftage. as galpin himself said, the only whole part about the boat was the name, which had been painted in red on a single thin board sticking a full two feet past the stern--"upanatum." but the boys did not waste a great deal of time in admiring the beautiful lines of their borrowed craft. jerry made at once for the oar seat, leaving dave to untie and push off. for all the tremendous leak which at once developed, the boat responded easily to the strenuous tugs of jerry's muscular arms and back. they beached the boat and made their way up the bank and across a field where oats had just been cut, the bundles lying yellow as gold in the early morning sunlight. just beyond was a narrow, plum-thicket bordered lane, which in turn led into the newly graveled "county" road. the boys found the walking much easier in a path that twisted along next to the fence. however, within a mile, along came a farmer, hauling a load of early potatoes to town, and the boys gladly accepted his invitation to "hop on." within a quarter of a mile both were sound asleep, nor did they waken until the springless wagon rattled over the interurban tracks less than two blocks from dave's home. rubbing their eyes in a vain attempt to drive out the sleep, they stumbled along the quiet street. "where will i find you after breakfast?" asked jerry, as dave turned in at his gate. "in bed. i'll be lucky if i stay awake till after breakfast." "but we've got to tell mr. fulton." "you tell him, jerry. i just know he won't pay any attention to what we say--i don't more'n half believe it now myself----" dave had to stop for a tremendous yawn. "if that's the case, you might just as well sleep." jerry was out of patience, but dave was too sleepy to care very much. "i'll see you--see you--later, jerry," he said drowsily as he turned and staggered up the walk. jerry, after an undecided second or two, faced about and began to retrace his steps. he cut through the ellery back yard and came out on the cross street at whose corner the fultons lived. the house was a big ramshackle affair of a dozen rooms or so, far too large a place for the fultons, since there had been only the two of them, tod's mother having died when he was only a little tad. indeed, as tod said, they only used three rooms, the kitchen and two bedrooms. but that was hardly true; there was a big basement under all the house, the most of it used as a workroom, and here it was that the two of them spent the better part of their waking hours. mr. fulton was an odd sort of man, a bit inclined to think his business his own business. but it was no secret among his neighbors that all sorts of queer contrivances were planned and made in that combination machine shop, carpenter shop, forge and foundry below stairs. mr. fulton was an inventor. true, for the most part he invented useless things; he had inherited money and did not need to make any more. but the boys, who were allowed to roam through the workshop at will, were wildly enthusiastic over the ingenious devices schemed out by father and son, for tod was a chip off the old block. now, jerry did not go up to the front door, even though it was standing ajar. instead he hurried to the little side porch and reached high up under the eaves, where an electric button was concealed. he pushed it, hard, well knowing that if mr. fulton were anywhere in the house he would hear that bell. that was why it had been so well hidden. but there was no response. again jerry rang; he could hear the shrill br-r-r-r of the bell. after a long time he heard footsteps, but something told him they were not those of mr. fulton. the door swung open. there stood mr. aikens. "is mr. fulton here," demanded jerry. "asleep," nodded mr. aikens. "i've got to see him." "all right--if you don't wake him up." "i've got to talk to him--i've got big news." "big news? of--of tod?" big mr. aikens was not the kind of man to become easily excited, but his manner was eager enough. "of tod--yes!" cried jerry. "what is it? have you found his--his body?" "better than that, mr. aikens--oh, i'm almost dead sure!" jerry was so excited himself that his voice shook. as for mr. aikens, he leaped over and caught jerry's arm and was shaking it wildly up and down. neither one noticed that a white-faced man stood in the opposite doorway, and that his eyes were simply blazing with expectancy. "what do you mean? what _can_ you mean!" demanded mr. aikens. "i believe that tod fulton is----" "not alive?" almost screamed a voice from across the room. "not alive!" "alive and on lost island!" chapter vi to the rescue! this much of the interview was perfectly clear to jerry afterwards, but what followed he could not quite understand at the time or later. for a moment it was almost laughable. there stood aikens fiercely clutching one arm and waving it up and down as if to pump further information from him. mr. fulton, after the first dazed instant, darted across the room and grabbed jerry's other arm. "_where_ is he? tell me--quick!" he demanded. then it was that jerry could not understand, for the look that came over mr. fulton's face at his reply was neither belief nor doubt. his eyebrows almost met in a frown as he repeated mechanically: "on lost island, you say? but--but--how do you know? you weren't _on_ lost island, were you?" "no--o," answered jerry slowly. a look of relief, quickly hidden, came to mr. fulton's face, but jerry saw it, and wondered. "did someone tell you he was there, then?" "someone told me he _wasn't_ there----" began jerry, when the ting-a-ling of a telephone bell cut him short. "oh!" exclaimed mr. fulton and hurried from the room. his muffled voice could be heard in a lengthy conversation. jerry impatiently awaited his return, anxious to tell the rest of his story. imagine then his surprise when tod's father delayed his return unreasonably, and his only response to jerry's eager sentences was, "yes, yes, i know." jerry's heart sank unaccountably--he sensed the fact that mr. fulton was not listening, was only waiting, in fact, till the boy should finish and he could decently get rid of jerry. the story was consequently hurried through. disappointed beyond description, jerry left the house, not even noticing that mr. fulton had left the room even before jerry had reached the door. something was wrong somewhere; jerry had expected that his story would be literally snatched out of his mouth; instead it had been smothered under the dampest kind of wet blanket. feeling not a little sore over his failure to impress the two men with the importance of his discoveries, jerry plodded along home, determined that as soon as he had gulped down a little breakfast he would hike back to lost island alone and make one more attempt to gain the cover of its wooded banks. even that plan was doomed to disappointment. jerry's mother had saved a goodly breakfast for him, and bustled about making him comfortable. contrary to jerry's expectations, she had no word of blame for his having remained away overnight without asking consent, and even listened with sympathetic ear to the story of his adventures. but just at the moment when jerry was about to announce his intention to return, mrs. ring was called to the back door, to return a few minutes later with the announcement that it had been mr. aikens, and that jerry was not to worry any more about lost island. "but i've simply got to go back, ma," sputtered jerry, his mouth uncomfortably full of pancake. "mr. fulton isn't going to--well, he didn't show much interest in my theories---" "but mr. aikens seemed to think he did. you just rest easy, son. if two grown men can't take care of your lost islander--and your theories, too, why, well--you just get ready to pile into bed, that's all." "but, ma--there's the boat." "it'll take care of itself till you get there." "but, ma----" "hush up, now. into bed with you." "but can i go after the boat when i----" mrs. ring caught up a flat piece of wood from the back of the kitchen range, and laughingly but firmly put an end to the coaxing, jerry retreating hastily to the shelter of his bedroom. both jerry and his father stood in awe of tiny mrs. ring, who barely reached to overgrown jerry's shoulder. "wake me up at twelve, will you, ma?" called jerry, in his most wheedling voice. his mother only laughed, but jerry felt sure she would. besides, there was his dollar alarm clock. jerry repented his request when sharp at twelve o'clock he was called for noonday dinner. he was sleepy and cross and not a bit hungry. his muscles were sore, and the drill to lost island did not have quite the romance by broad daylight that it had had a few hours before. jerry watched his father put on his hat and hurry back to work, with a great deal of relief. his mother was much easier to handle in a case of this sort. "you won't mind if i don't get back till late?" he asked, hoping she would give her unqualified consent to his remaining away as long as he saw fit. "you promised me i could go camping this summer--let me take it now, _please_, ma." "will you promise me to come back and let me pick the birdshot out of you after you've made a landing on lost island?" she asked in mock anxiety. as a matter of fact, mrs. ring was about as proud of her big boy as a mother well could be without making herself a nuisance to the neighbors. from his earliest boyhood she had cultivated the independence of spirit he showed with his first pair of real trousers, and now she often strained a point to let him exercise it. to be sure, she sometimes wondered how much was genuine self-confidence and how much was a reckless love of adventure. now she raised her eyebrows in denial, but at the eager look on the boy's face she relented. "trot along, jerry," she agreed, with a quick pat at his shoulder--the rings were not much at kissing each other. "if you can't take care of yourself by now, you never will be able to. i know you're as anxious as you can be about tod--i do hope it turns out that you are right about him." with a muttered, "i've got to be right," jerry set about making himself a couple of substantial sandwiches and stuffing them in the pocket of his canvas hunting coat, which he took along for emergencies. "good-bye, ma," he called over his shoulder. "i'll be back as soon as i can bring tod with me." once outside, he wasted no time but struck off at once cross-lots to rout out dave thomas and frank ellery. fortunately frank came first, otherwise jerry might not have been equal to the task of waking up dave. they tried everything they had ever heard of. they tickled his feet; they set off a brass-lunged alarm clock under his very nose; they dumped him roughly out of his bed, but even on the bare floor he slumbered peacefully on. cold water brought only temporary success. they were in despair. it was frank who finally solved the problem. seating himself on the foot of the bed, he raised his head much in the fashion of a hound baying at the moon--the sound that issued from his throat would put to shame the most ambitious hound that ever howled. jerry caught up a pillow and would have shied it at the head of the offender, but the perfectly serious look on frank's face withheld his arm. gradually it dawned on him that the boy was trying to sing--and, more than that, it was one of dave's favorite songs he was murdering. then it was that jerry understood frank's strategy. the bed-clothes began to heave; they had piled them all atop dave as he lay on the floor. frank began on the chorus. a wriggling leg emerged from beneath the comforts. jerry joined in, his voice a villainous imitation of frank's discords. another leg came to view. they began to repeat the chorus, further off key than before. one line was all they were suffered to torture. a catapult of boy, bedclothes and pillows bounded from the floor and sent frank spinning into the bed, while jerry barely saved himself from a spill on the floor. "you will yowl like a lot of bob-tailed tomcats, will yuh!" yelled dave, dancing up and down on one foot--he had stubbed his toe against one of his shoes in his charge across the room. "you will snore away like six buzz-saws on circus day, huh?" snorted frank, neatly catching dave in the pit of the stomach with a pillow caught up from the floor. for a second it looked like a free-for-all, but jerry had no time to waste. "get your clothes on--hustle. we're going back to lost island." "suppose my mother won't let me?" "suppose you tell her we've got to go and get our boat? she'll let you go all right. you just want to get back to bed, that's all that's worrying you. hustle, dave. we can't lose a minute." "but didn't you tell tod's dad about what we--found out?" dave hesitated over the last. it was plain to be seen that he was none too sure in his own mind of the importance of their discovery. "i did, and he--well, he acted so queer about it that i don't know what to think. i wouldn't be a bit surprised if they--he and mr. aikens, you know--never went near lost island. they think we're just kids." "but we don't really _know_ anything, jerry; we're only just guessing." "guessing, huh? well, i'm only just guessing that you're wasting a lot of time about getting your clothes on, but in about half a minute i'm going to climb all over you." at that dave bristled up a bit, but his fingers became spryer with buttons and hooks and very shortly he stood fully dressed and ready to go downstairs. jerry had already made peace with mrs. thomas, so little time was lost in waiting for dave to snatch a bite to eat and be on his way. "i've got four bits loose in my pocket," announced jerry, once they were out on the street. "if we don't let any grass grow on the side streets while we're moving we can make the two-five express on the dellwood interurban. we can drop off when they slow down at downers crossing; that must be almost opposite lost island. it's hard going through the swamps to get to plum run, but i guess we're good for it." they made the two-five--with about three seconds to spare. their car was empty, so each dropped into a seat and sprawled out comfortably. jerry smiled grimly to himself as he looked back perhaps five minutes later and saw how the two had slumped down in their seats. it did not need a throaty gurgle from dave to convince him that the pair were sound asleep. "a fine pair of adventurers," he muttered to himself, not entirely without some feeling of resentment. it was well enough to be the leader, but--well, he wouldn't have minded a little snooze himself. he did not feel quite so critical, however, when, perhaps a half hour later, at a terrific jolt of the train, he was roused from the doze into which he too had fallen. a hasty glance out the window told him that they were at downers crossing. with a yell that would have done credit to a whole war-party of comanches, he pounced upon the two sleepers and dragged and pushed and pommeled them out onto the platform of the car. the train was beginning to move, so their descent was none too dignified. "why in thunder didn't you wake us in time so i could have got a drink?" complained frank. jerry said nothing; he felt too guilty to risk any answer. after they had cut across to the wagon road that led in the general direction of the river, he consoled his chum with: "downer's farm is only about half a mile in, and we can get all the buttermilk we want there----" adding mischievously: "----on wednesdays, when they churn." both dave and frank promised instant murder for that, so he had to admit that they would reach the best spring in winthrop county within three minutes. "saved your hide by just twenty-nine seconds," declared dave as he plunged his face into the bubbling surface of the clearest, coldest kind of a hillside spring. their gait was much livelier after that, and in less than ten minutes plum run was sighted, but they did not come out as close to lost island as jerry had predicted. in fact, they were not certain in which direction it lay, for to the north lay a cluster of trees apparently surrounded by water, and which might well be the place they sought. to the south lay another green spot away from shore. "it's north of here," declared both dave and frank, but jerry exclaimed triumphantly, after the first tangle of argument: "it must be south. if lost island was north the wagon bridge'd be between us and it." so south they went; and as they drew nearer they saw that the patch of green was indeed lost island. once they were within close sight of it, they went forward with all caution. the last hundred yards or so they made on hands and knees, finding cover in every clump of bushes or willows on the way. but finally they were ready to break through the last fringe of willow and spy out the prospect. jerry, who was ahead, waited for his two companions to catch up with him. "not a sound, now," he cautioned as they crouched beside him. stealthily they pushed aside the leaves that obscured their view. suddenly, from behind them a yell, blood-curdling, absolutely hair-raising, rang out through the stillness. the three turned. but it was too late. breaking cover at the same instant, a half-dozen husky young chaps charged on the surprised trio. "up and at them, fellows!" came a roar. "they're part of the gang!" chapter vii the flying eagle scouts for a minute or two it was hard for the three boys to understand just what had happened. they were pounced upon and hurled roughly to the ground, in spite of their violent struggles, and there they were pommeled unmercifully. they fought back, but they were hopelessly outnumbered. it was no adventure-story fight where the lone hero engages a dozen husky brutes and by superior science and strength lays his assailants out one by one. too bewildered to be really angry, the three found themselves pinned to the ground. then they were able to take stock of their attackers. six boys they were, of about the same size and age as dave, jerry and frank, they were dressed in some odd sort of uniform, like brownish canvas. just now their faces wore triumphant grins. "here comes phil," remarked one of the three who were standing, coming over to sit on jerry's legs, jerry having seized a favorable opportunity to attempt escape. "what's the idea?" inquired the newcomer, a tall but well-knit chap with a broad, sunburned face and a mop of black hair showing under the forward brim of his wide hat. "we caught them trying to sneak up on us, so we fooled them and jumped on them instead. it's part of that lost island gang," volunteered dave's captor. "we're not either," exploded dave. "shut up!" exclaimed the one astride his stomach. "didn't we see you slinking along through the bushes?" "well, so were you. but we didn't try any wild indian game on you just on that account." "good reason why. you didn't see us," crowed the one on top, giving dave a vigorous poke in the ribs to emphasize the point. that was too much for dave. his usual good nature had been oozing out with every passing second. now he gave a sudden twist, heaved, turned, heaved again, and in less time than it was told, was on his feet and presenting a pair of promising looking fists to the two others who had quickly come to their comrade's assistance. "hold on a minute," suggested the one they had called phil. "let's get the straight of this thing first and fight afterwards. you say you don't belong on the island?" he asked, turning to dave. "we certainly don't. we were trying to get onto it without being seen. that's why we were skulking along that way." "trying to get onto it? you haven't any boat." "we could swim, couldn't we?" "but what do you want to get onto the island for? where are you from, anyhow?" "none of your particular business," snapped dave, but jerry answered as well as he could with his shortness of breath--he too was "stomached" by a stout boy of his own size: "watertown." "know anybody there by the name of tod fulton? he's a cousin of mine--why, what's the matter?" for the three boys had cried out in dismay. "why--why--he's the boy we're after. he's our chum," stammered jerry at last. "then what you after him for--if he's your chum?" "well, he's--he's----" began jerry, and dave blurted out: "drowned!" "what!" cried the whole crew at that. "tod fulton drowned!" "we don't know for sure. that's why we're trying to get onto lost island." then the story came out, piecemeal, for all three insisted on telling it. phil stood as if stunned. at the end he said simply: "he's my cousin. i'm phil fulton. we live at chester. that's about ten miles south of here. we're the flying eagle patrol of boy scouts--maybe you noticed our suits." "thought you were some kind of bushwhackers the way you dropped on us," complained frank. "but what was the idea in thumping us because you thought we were from the island?" "we had good reasons enough," declared phil. "we left town at midnight last night, hiked all the way to our boat-landing two miles up the river, and made the long pull up the plum in the dark just for the sake of getting an early morning chance at the best bass rock you ever heard of--just to get chased out at the point of a shotgun after we'd landed the first one--a three pounder too. can you blame us for being sore?" "on lost island?" asked jerry eagerly. "no, _off_ lost island. a big burly ruffian blew down on us, cussing a streak, and wouldn't hardly let us get into our boat. chucked stones at us all the way across and promised us a mess of birdshot if we came back. do you blame us for wanting to lay you out?" it was dave's conqueror who spoke. "if that's what you do on suspicion, i don't want to be around when you're sure of yourself. my ribs'll be sore for a week." the boys had been talking excitedly; each one was wrought up over the fate of poor tod and this was the only way they were willing to show their feelings. it was phil who brought them back to earth. "well, fellows," he suggested, "let's get acquainted first, and then let's see if we can't frame up some way of getting across and going over that island from end to end. line up, scouts, and be presented." the scouts lined up in two columns. "this is sid walmsly, nicknamed 'the worm,' partly because that's the way we pronounce his name, but mostly because it's a long worm that has no turn, and sid says he's always the one to be left out. you can remember him by the wart on his left knuckle. next is dick garrett; he's assistant patrol leader. this thin, long-drawn-out morsel of sweet temper is fred nelson. we tried to nickname him "angel" but he licked everyone that tried it on him. now comes our joker, we'd call him trixie if we dared. his ma calls him algy brown. frank willis stands first in the behind row. he goes by the name of "budge," chiefly because he _won't_ unless he wants to. barney knowles, the littlest giant in the world--the one in the red sweater. he wears a sweater in july and shirt-sleeves in december. and last of all, but not least--far from it--ted lewis, the only grouchy fat man in captivity. smile for us, teddy." teddy growled. jerry introduced himself and his two chums, and then turned anxiously to phil. "got any plan?" "why not just get into our boat and row over? we can tell that chump over there----" "thought you told us good scouts were always respectful to our elders?" interrupted ted, he of the "grouch." "respectful where respect is _due_," came the quick response. "we can tell the gentleman that we have sent the rest of the gang back for the sheriff----" "and good scouts never tell lies----" this from ted again. "be still or i'll make it the truth by sending you back after him. we ought to make the try, anyway, because that makes our next move easier. if we can't get on the island in the open, we've got to use a little strategy. if we just could get our boat around to the other side of the island----" "i've got it!" cried dave. "our boat's down the river. while the bunch of us keep up a demonstration along the shore here, two of us could slip down and get the boat and sneak in at the lower end." "good. we'd best waste no time about it because it's going to be coming on dark before we know it. who's going along with me?" "to the island? i'll go. the man knows _me_," agreed jerry. "where's your boat?" the rest waited in the cover of the bushes while phil and jerry quietly made their way down the river bank to where the scout boat was moored. they sprang in at once, phil pushing off and hopping lightly to the oars. there was only one pair, but he sent the boat skimming across the ripples. no one was in sight on the island, and they were in hopes of making a landing unobserved, but just as their boat touched shore the willows parted and the man stepped out on the high bank. "back again?" he demanded gruffly. "oh, yes," replied phil easily. "we came back to see if you'd let us look for a box of tackle one of the boys thinks he left down where we were fishing this morning." "oh! and you," said the man sarcastically, turning to jerry. "i suppose you came to look for a lock of hair from your drowned friend's head?" the man's tone was so unfeeling that jerry simply gasped, but phil boiled over at once. "i'll have you know that that boy was my cousin. we have good reason for believing that he's on this island and _we're going to search it_!" "oh, indeed!" and jerry could have sworn that there was a twinkle in the man's eye for all there was no mistaking the threat in his voice. "well, i can promise you a full-sized spanking unless you make yourselves scarce in just about one half minute. this makes the third time i've had to chase you off--and third time's the charm, you know." "but why don't you want us to look for our friend? surely you've got nothing against him--or us." "not a thing. not a thing, sonny. only i live on this place, and i can't have a troop of youngsters tracking mud in at my front door. that friend of yours couldn't very well be on my island without my knowing it, could he?" "but you've never said out and out that he wasn't on the island," asserted jerry boldly. "and you've acted so suspicious that--that we wouldn't believe you now if you did say it." the man laughed at that, for jerry had started out by trying to be diplomatic, but his feelings got the better of him before the end. "i'll be careful not to say it then. as for the tackle box--here it is." jerry opened his eyes wide; he had thought the box a pure invention on the part of phil. "now back water and keep backing." "you think you've got us beat," shouted jerry at his retreating back. "never you worry--i've told mr. fulton, and he and mr. aikens will be coming down here with a posse. they won't be asking your permission if they can investigate an island that doesn't belong to you any more than it does to me." "it belongs to mr. fulton, i suppose?" challenged the man, and turning around for a last laugh. neither boy answered. "you tell your mr. fulton that i said he was welcome to come any time." "now what?" asked jerry, as phil turned the boat about and headed for the other shore. "what next? night, mostly. then i think we'll show your mr. billings a few scout tricks he doesn't know about." "i didn't say his name was billings----" "i know--but _i_ did. i've seen him before. that may be the reason he's so touchy about having us land on the island. the last time i saw him it was down at dad's office. uncle ed--that's mr. fulton, you know--was there, and when i opened the door on them suddenly, he and this billings were having the hottest kind of an argument. dad hustled me out of there in a hurry, but not before uncle ed'd called him billings--and a lot of other things." "you think then that billings is still sore at mr. fulton, and that he's holding tod there----" "nothing more likely. we'll know to-night. at least we'll know whether tod is there--and i guess we'll make a good strong try at getting him loose." "how can we do it? what's your plan?" "leave it to the flying eagle scouts. i'm not bragging, but we're one live crew!" chapter viii a voyage in the dark still, it was some time after the return of phil and jerry from their unsuccessful sortie into the enemy's country, before a practical plan occurred to the ten-brain-power plotters. but the scheme, once its details had been worked out, struck them all as having a fair chance for success. briefly, it was this: two of the boys--jerry and phil were again chosen--were to go down the river to the bridge and cross over and get the _big four_. they were to come back up the river as quietly as possible, hugging the opposite shore to a point about two hundred yards below the island, where the east bank spurred off into a fairly high hill. here one of the boys was to leave the boat, as near nine o'clock as possible--it was now seven--and climb the hill, where he was to signal across to dick garrett, who would be watching directly opposite. then jerry and phil were to make all speed to lost island, landing at the lower end. the boy scouts, and dave and frank, were to gather as conspicuously as possible--a flaring camp fire would show their intentions--and pretend that _they_ were about to embark for the island. that _ought_ to leave the lower end of the island unguarded for the safe landing of jerry and phil. once they were ashore, the dense bushes and the darkness ought to be sufficient cover for their search. little time had been lost, really, in making the plan, for the scouts had been bustling back and forth, building a camp fire and preparing supper. four of them had set up the tents, finishing the task begun by all of them when jerry and phil set out on their first trip to the island. it was not a very fancy meal the boys sat down to. the food was served on paper lunch plates, so there would be no dish-washing. each scout carried knife, fork, spoon and tincup. there was no extra "silverware" save the cook's big utensils. so the three outsiders ate with fingers and pocketknives. a nice mess of perch had been caught in a near-by creek, and frank willis, whose turn it was to act as chef, had browned them most artistically. there were some ash-baked potatoes, and a farmhouse close by had provided a generous supply of buttermilk. the last of the meal was eaten by the light of the camp fire, for the sky had clouded over and night seemed to drop suddenly from above. licking the last morsel of the delicious fish from his greasy finger-ends, and wiping his greasier mouth on his sleeve, jerry jumped to his feet and announced: "i'm ready, phil, if you are." "i've been ready for a quarter of an hour--just waiting for the skillet to be empty, because i knew you'd never stir so long as there was a crumb left. where do you put it all?" "i've got to stow away a lot to balance my brains. i notice you're a light eater," retorted jerry, but phil only chuckled. "all right, you two--be on your merry way," put in dick garrett. "this is no picnic excursion you're starting off on. and don't forget your oars, unless you expect to row your boat with your wits." the two made no reply; a half minute later there were only eight boys in camp. something like a quarter of a mile inland was the gravel road that followed the windings of plum run, to cut across at the wagon bridge. two stealthy figures hurried through the woods and across the fields, to emerge on the other side of a barbed wire fence and trudge off down the dusty road. "some woodsman, you are!" snorted phil in purposely exaggerated disgust. "when you skulked through the brush the limbs could be heard popping for a mile. how many times did you fall down?" "fall down? what you mean, fall down? every time you stumbled over your shadow i thought you were ducking for cover, so i simply crouched to keep out of sight." phil snorted, and quickened his pace. jerry put an extra few inches on his own stride and easily kept up. they passed a farmhouse--at good speed, for a dog came out and after a few suspicious sniffs proceeded to satisfy his appetite on phil's leg. a loud ripping noise told that he at least kept a souvenir of the visit. the dog's excited barking kept them company to the next farmhouse, which they passed as silently as possible, not particularly desiring to repeat the experience. "it was your whistling back there that scared up that dog--see if you can whistle a patch onto my leggins," phil suggested when they were once more surrounded by open fields. jerry did not answer, for just ahead of them the road forked and he was trying to remember which turn it was one took to get to the bridge. he had never gone this way, but he had once heard a farmer giving directions to a party of automobilists. however, phil unhesitatingly took the branch that cut in toward the river, so he said nothing for some time. "ever been over this road before?" he ventured to ask when the road suddenly became so rough that they stumbled at every step. "no--never been up this way. we always fish on the other side of the plum." "how do you know then that this is the right road?" "it turned in toward the river, didn't it? and the other road angled off toward tarryville." "but the bridge road is graveled all the way, and if this isn't blue clay i'll eat my hat. it might just be a private road to some farm, and the other road might have swung around after a bit. this muck-hole doesn't look good to me." "all the same, through those trees yonder i can see water. it's the old plum all right. shake a leg." "i think we'll gain time by shaking two legs--back to the fork. that's the plum, all right enough, but you'll walk through marsh all the way to the bridge if you try to follow the bank. i remember now: this is the old wood road. it hasn't been used since they cut timber on the jameson tract." jerry did not wait to finish his argument but had already gone back a good fifty feet of the way to the other road, when he noticed that phil was not following him. "what's the matter, phil?" "don't you think we've wasted enough time, without losing some more by going back?" "we'll lose more by going ahead. and we're losing now by standing still chewing the rag about it. come on." "i'm going ahead. you followed my lead this far; i guess it won't hurt you to follow it a little farther. i'm patrol leader, you know." jerry sensed a little resentment in phil's tone, and remembered that once or twice he had spoken to the scout leader just as he did to his chums--and his chums always looked to him for commands. "i'm not trying to boss you, phil, don't think that. but i _know_ that the other way is the best way, and i've _got_ to follow it. so you go ahead, and i'll wait for you at this end of the bridge." without further word he strode off on the back road. it was so dark that he might have done so safely, but he did not look back. nevertheless, a pleased grin spread over his face, for he was soon aware that phil was tagging along not many paces behind. that had always been the way. jerry was a born leader; the other boys followed him willingly because they never found any cause to lose confidence in his judgment. "phil, you're a genuine sport," was all he said as the other boy fell into step beside him as once more they reached the gravel roadway and turned into the right-hand branch. sooner than they expected they saw the gaunt skeleton of the upper bridgework against the dark sky. jerry did not permit himself an "i told you so," but he said instead: "we'll be in a pretty pickle if we get on the other side and find our boat gone." phil made no answer and in silence they walked across the hollow-echoing bridge. a series of giant stone steps led down to the river bank, and as soon as they reached bottom they saw that their fears were groundless, for there lay the _big four_ as jerry and dave had left her eighteen hours before. deep footprints in the mud bank, dimly visible in the dusk, told that someone had stopped to look the boat over. perhaps had the oars been handy, the boat might not have remained so safely. the boys were glad to relieve their shoulders of the pair they had taken turns in carrying, and without pausing to rest, they stepped into the boat, phil finding some difficulty in making the scout boat's oars fit the _big four's_ oarlocks. but at last they were off and jerry bent to his task. the _big four_ had been built for speed, and the craft was trimmed just right for getting the most with the least effort. the current was fairly swift here, but jerry hugged the east bank and took advantage of every eddy. it was not long before lost island swung into sight. "let me spell you off," suggested phil, but jerry shook his head. "after we land at the hill you can take her the rest of the way. i think i'll pull in at that little cove just ahead. it makes a little longer walk, but it's well out of sight of the island. who'll climb the hill!" "leave that to me. i kind of want to try out a little signaling stunt that dick and i have been figuring on. here's a good sandy stretch; let's beach her here." the boat grated on the pebbly shore; phil sprang lightly out, and jerry was left alone. he could hear phil scrunching over the rocks and through the brush; then all was still. jerry strained his eyes to see if he could make out the figure of dick, who must be almost directly opposite, but only the dense black of the wood met his gaze. he waited patiently for the gleam of the flashlight, but minute after minute slipped by, and no signal appeared. so he was somewhat surprised when after perhaps fifteen minutes he heard a footstep on the beach and he realized that phil was returning. "our scheme worked fine," announced the scout leader. "bet you never even saw dick's signal." "no, i didn't," confessed jerry. "good reason why. you see, i figured out that if you shoot a flash straight out in front of you very long everybody can see it. a quick flash--well, anyone who saw it might think it was just lightning or the interurban. so i just snapped about a dozen straight up into the air, until i got a return flash from dick. then i used this." he pulled out a little pocket mirror. "i pointed my light straight at the ground, and gave him a dot and dash message by holding the mirror in the light. some scheme, eh?" jerry merely grunted, but way down in his heart a deep respect was forming for these boy scouts and their resourcefulness. "just flash a few signals to those oars," he advised, taking his place in the stern. "and be careful with that left oar--she squeaks if you pull her too hard." but phil soon showed that he needed no advice about handling a boat. without a sound--without a ripple, almost--they moved away from shore and cut out into the current. "safe to get out into line with the island, i guess. if they're watching, it's the shore they'll be most suspicious of." "they? we've only seen one out there." "maybe. but i'm betting on a pair of them at least. it's about time for the boys to--listen to those indians, would you? i'm afraid they're overdoing it a bit." from the far shore, out of sight behind lost island, rose a hubbub of cries that sounded as if the island were about to be attacked by a war party of sioux. a boy scout yell sounded out, the voices of dave and frank heard above the rest. "guess your two must have deserted your banner and joined the eagles," teased phil. the island lay dead ahead of them, dark and still. both boys had a shivery feeling of being watched, but no sign was apparent as they floated in behind the point of the island and noiselessly beached the boat. "we'd best stay close together," suggested jerry in a whisper. "and by all means don't whisper--talk in an undertone. a whisper carries twice as far," countered phil. jerry marked down one more to the score of the boy scouts. but there was little need for talk. the brush was heavy, broken by thickets of plum trees and an occasional sapling of hickory; the ground was boggy in spots, and once jerry sank almost to his knees in oozy mud. a screech owl hooted in a tree close by, and cold shivers ran up and down their backbones. unbroken by path or opening, the island wilderness lay before them. they walked hours it seemed, trying their best not to advertise their coming in breaking limbs and rustling leaves, for the night was uncannily still. it was a great relief, therefore, when the underbrush suddenly gave way to a few low trees and after that open ground. jerry was for plunging right ahead, relying on the darkness, but phil caught his arm. "circle it," he commanded, and jerry, little used to obeying orders as he was, at once saw the wisdom of the idea and agreed. they were nearly halfway around the open plot when they struck a path, evidently leading to the river. but the other end must go somewhere, and they strained their eyes into the darkness. "a house, i do believe," mumbled phil. "shall we risk going closer?" "got to. not a sound now. let's take off our shoes." in their stocking feet they stealthily drew nearer the dark blot against the background. when they were within twenty feet they saw it was not a cabin, but one end of a long, narrow, shed-like structure, perhaps twenty feet wide and running far back into the darkness. they approached it cautiously and began feeling carefully along the higher side for some sort of door or opening. they had gone a good thirty feet, their nerves tingling with the hope of next-instant discovery, when phil broke the silence with a low-toned sentence. "there's a house or cabin of some kind less than twenty feet away." jerry did not look. his groping fingers had found something that felt like a door-edge. his hand closed over a knob. "here's the door!" he exclaimed eagerly, and then felt his heart almost stop beating. the knob had been turned in his hand! but before he could say a word, a sudden "sh!" sounded from his companion. "did you hear it?" gasped phil. "what?" asked jerry, his voice trembling in spite of him. but phil did not answer--there was no need. from the cabin came a sound that set every nerve on edge. it was a groan--the groan of someone in great agony. chapter ix a rescue that failed in the excitement of hearing that groan, jerry forgot every other thought. both boys jumped at once to the same conclusion: tod was in that cabin! perhaps he had been hurt, or perhaps, even, that ruffian was mistreating him. with one accord they broke for the cabin, making for where a thin pencil of light hinted at a door. they wasted no time fumbling for the knob, but put all the strength of their shoulders against the opening. the door gave, suddenly, and they tumbled over each other into a dimly lighted room. it was fortunate for them that there was no one there, for in falling phil overturned a chair, which in turn managed to become entangled in jerry's legs, who came to the floor with a suddenness that did not give phil time to get out of the way. half stunned, they lay there panting, till a renewal of the moaning aroused them to quick action. phil jumped to his feet and caught up a leg of the chair, that had been broken loose in the triple fall. it was well to have some sort of weapon. the sounds seemed to have come from above, where a trap door indicated a loft or attic of some sort. the boys looked wildly about for some means of getting up to the trap door, but the light of the smoky kerosene lamp revealed nothing. the chair might have helped them, but it was wrecked beyond hope. "perhaps if we called to him, he might answer," ventured jerry huskily. "first see if you can reach the trap door if you stand on my shoulders." phil made a stirrup of his hands and gave jerry a leg up. wabbling uncertainly, but managing to straighten himself, jerry caught at the edge of the opening. "nailed!" he exclaimed disappointedly as he jumped to the floor. "shall we call?" phil nodded. "tod. oh, tod!" only silence. again they called. "tod--tod fulton." there was an answer this time, but not of the sort nor from the direction the boys expected. it was more like a whine than a groan this time, and it came from the far side of the room. for the first time the boys noticed that there was a door there, partly open. they made a rush for it, jerry in the lead. but he got no farther than the threshold. as he reached it, the door was flung open in his face. in the doorway stood a sixteen-year-old girl, a slim, black-haired slip of a thing, her black eyes snapping. one hand was doubled up into a fist that would have made any boy laugh, but there was no laughter in the other hand. it brandished a wicked looking hand-axe, and it was evident from the way she handled it that there was strength in those scrawny arms. "you get out of here!" she commanded, advancing a step. jerry backed away hastily, but phil only laughed, trying to balance himself on the two and a half legs of the wrecked chair. "i've seen you before, lizzie, and you don't scare me a bit with that meat axe." "it's no meat axe; it's a wood axe--look out for your heads," she retorted scornfully. "clear out of here or i'll make kindling of both of you." "put down that cleaver, lizzie, and let's talk sense. we came here to get tod fulton--he's my cousin, you know----" but that was as far as he got. the girl, her face showing a determination that made nonchalant phil jump up from his chair and beat a quick retreat, walked up on them, the axe flashing viciously back and forth before her. "you're going to get off this island," she exclaimed, "and you're going to do it quick. no tricks now! the first one who makes a break gets this axe in the back--and i can throw straight. about face, now. march!" there was nothing to do but obey. sheepishly enough the boys turned and meekly let her drive them out into the dark. as she passed the lamp she caught it down from the bracket on the wall with one hand. thus they marched across the open ground, along the narrow path and out on the waterfront. "our boat is down at the other end of the island" remarked phil, turning his head ever so slightly. "i'll have my father bring it over to you in the morning," answered the girl relentlessly. "i see your friends waiting for you over on the other side, so it wouldn't be fair to keep them in suspense." "you're surely not going to make us try to swim it?" pleaded phil, pretending great consternation, hoping that he might delay their departure till something might happen to give them the advantage. "that's not all i am going to do." setting down her lamp on a convenient rock, and changing her axe to her left hand, she stooped over and picked up a pebble. with a quick jerk she drew back her arm and then shot it out, boy-fashion the boys heard the stone hum as it sailed through the air. an instant, and then a howl of pain arose from one of the scouts dancing about the blazing camp fire on the other shore. it was a good hundred yards away. "i just did that to show you what'd happen to you if you didn't head straight for that gang of pirates over there," she said grimly. "you're _some_--tomboy!" exclaimed phil, admiringly, jerry thought, but the girl only laughed sarcastically. "you first," she demanded. "you're just watching for a chance to catch me off my guard. i'm onto you." phil had no choice, so without more ado, he plunged in and began cutting the water neatly in the direction of the camp fire. "he swims well, doesn't he?" remarked the girl, so easily that jerry could have sworn she was about ready to laugh. "he sure does!" he agreed. "he's got me beat a mile. say," he coaxed, "we didn't mean any harm. we were just looking for a boy who was supposed to have got drowned up the river a piece but we believe landed here on lost island. just tell me whether he's alive or not, and we won't bother you any more." "oh, you're no bother. in fact, i rather enjoyed your little visit--though i will admit you scared me a bit when you held the knob of the door to the hangar----" "hangar? what's that?" "it's--it's french for--woodshed," the girl stammered. "it's your turn now," motioning toward the water. "but won't you tell me about tod?" "did you ask my father about him?" "if it _was_ your father, yes." "and he didn't tell you!" "no, and he wouldn't let us search the island." "well, i'm my father's daughter. so into the briny deep with you. i hope the fish don't bite you." "but, look here," began jerry, then fell silent and moved toward the waters edge, for the girl had picked up a handful of large pebbles and stood plumping them meaningly into the river. the water was warm, and aside from his clothes, jerry did not mind the swim. after he had stroked along perhaps a third of the way, he turned on his back. the light had disappeared from shore. he had a moment's impulse to turn back, but was afraid she might be waiting in the darkness to greet him with a laugh and an invitation to take to the water again. he turned once more and swam steadily across the current. but after a little, once more he turned on his back, only kicking occasionally to keep himself afloat. he fancied he had heard some noise that did not belong with the night. there it was again, that regular beat as of wood striking against wood. he listened intently, trying to place the sound. finally, it dawned on him that it was a boat, rowed by means of a pair of loose oars. his mind worked quickly. it could not be the boy scout boat, for the sound was not right for that. it could only be the man of the island, "lizzie's" father--she had as much as said he was away. at any rate, jerry decided, he would wait there and find out. if the worst came to the worst he could always dive out of sight. nearer and nearer came the boat. jerry lay in the water with only his nose showing. he was too heavy-boned to be very good at floating, but the barest movement of hands or feet kept him from going under. at first he could make out nothing, but as his eyes focused more sharply he distinguished a slow-moving shape against the gray of the sky. it was barely twenty feet away, headed almost directly at him. a few noiseless strokes put him inside the boat's path, but when he stopped paddling he realized to his horror that the boat had changed direction and was cutting in toward the island. it was almost upon him when he dived. he was not quick enough. the landward oar caught him a flat blow across his eyes. blinded, dazed, his mouth full of water, he flung up his arms. he had a vague sense of having caught hold of something, and he held on. through a sort of mist he heard a voice saying laughingly: "hit a snag, john. better be careful or you'll wreck the ship in sight of harbor." little by little jerry's head cleared and he realized that he had caught hold of the stern of the boat. he could not see over the edge, but he could tell that there were two people in the boat, both men. they talked fitfully, but for the most part their voices came to jerry only as meaningless mumbles. once more the dark outline of lost island lay before him, and in jerry's heart arose a new hope that perhaps this time he would not come away empty-handed. the boat grounded on the beach where he and phil had stood only a few minutes before. the man who had been at the oars jumped out and pulled the boat well up on shore. jerry, finding that he could touch bottom, had let go and now stood well hidden in the water. "you might as well wait here in the boat," said the one who had gone ashore. "i won't be gone but a minute." he moved up the bank. it was the same man jerry had encountered twice before on his island visits. but who was the man in the boat? jerry wished he dared come closer. the minutes passed slowly, and the water did not feel as warm as it had at first. he was greatly relieved when once more he heard the rustle of someone coming through the tall grass. but though the sound came nearer and nearer, jerry, his nerves literally on end, found the wait a long one. would the man never get there? but the delay was quickly explained. there were two instead of one crunching across the beach, and the other stumbled as he walked and would have fallen more than once had it not been for the supporting arm of his companion. jerry could have shouted from joy had he dared, for some instinct told him that that swaying form belonged to no one but his chum, tod fulton. and then, in an instant, the mystery was all made clear--at least for the instant. the man in the boat rose and struck a match so that the other could see to help wobbly tod to a seat. as the light flared up full, jerry had a good sight of the face of the man who stood waiting. it was mr. fulton! chapter x "to-morrow is the day!" and then it was that jerry saw that the temporary clearing of the mystery only made things darker than ever. for, why should tod be rescued in this weird fashion? why had the man refused to let tod's friends come on the island? and why, why had mr. fulton laughed at jerry's story--and yet followed his clue in this stealthy way? jerry, up to his nose in the water, and deeper than that in perplexity, saw that the whole affair was really no longer the mystery of tod fulton's disappearance, but the mystery of lost island. so, although he now felt safe from bodily harm, because of mr. fulton's presence, he made no sign, but waited there a scant dozen feet beyond the stern of the boat. he heard tod answer a few low-toned questions of his father, but could not make out either question or answer. he saw mr. fulton pick up the oars and poise them for a sweep, dropping the blades into the water to exchange a last sentence with the shadow who stood waiting on the bank. "everything all right, then, billings!" "varnish on the left plane cracked pretty badly, mr. fulton. i had to scrape it off and refinish it. it really ought to have another day to dry." jerry repeated, puzzled, to himself: "left plane--what in thunder's that?" billings went on: "you won't forget to bring the timer. elizabeth will get it at the usual place if you can leave it by noon." "it'll be there, billings." not a word more was said as the boat was swung about and headed out into the stream, save that mr. fulton chuckled: "old billings rather had you worried, eh, son, until he gave you my message?" tod laughed, so heartily that jerry, who had watched his chance to cut out into the wake of the boat and hold on behind with one hand, could not himself forbear a little happy ripple. "what was that?" exclaimed mr. fulton, a full minute after. "i don't know," answered tod. "i was waiting for it to come again. sounded like--only _he_ couldn't be here." "who couldn't?" "it sounded like a laugh--and there's only one person, outside of a billygoat, who's got a gurgle like that." "your wetting didn't tame you down any, did it? who's the goat you had in mind?" "jerry king--_well_, what in the world!" over the back of the boat clambered a dripping, wrathful figure. "i'll be switched if i'm going to be dragged along at the tail of this scow and be insulted any longer. i laugh like a billygoat, do i? for two cents i'd scuttle the ship!" but jerry's anger was more put on than real, and under mr. fulton's banter and tod's grateful appreciation of the attempted rescue, he soon calmed down. "what was the matter with you back there on the island? we heard you groaning as if you'd green-appled yourself double." "groaning? me groaning? huh! say, next time you go bearding damsels in distress and rescuing castaway fishermen, you learn how to tell the difference between a bulldog who's whining to get out and get at you, and a wounded hero. it's a good thing you didn't have a chance to follow up that 'groan'--you'd have _groan_ wiser." "one more like that, tod," suggested mr. fulton wearily, "and i think i'll take a hand myself." "but why," jerry wanted to know, "didn't you come back home right away--if you weren't hurt?" "oh, but i was. you try going over that dam once and see if your insides-out don't get pretty well mixed up. i got a terrific thump on the back of the head when the boat turned turtle, and if i hadn't had a leg under the seat, i'd be in davy jones' locker right now. when i came to i didn't know whether i was me or the boat. i had gallons of water in me and--and i think i swallowed a worm or two; the bait can got tipped over--and all the worms were gone--somewhere." "but why did you stay----" jerry began, feeling vaguely that tod was talking so much to keep him from asking questions. but he was not allowed even to ask this one, for mr. fulton interrupted with: "i got busy right away after you had told me about your lost island clue, and soon got a message through to--to mr. billings there. when he told me tod was safe and sound, i thought i'd wait until i had finished some important business i just couldn't leave. that's how it was so late before i got here." "mr. billings came and got you, didn't he?" remarked jerry, trying to keep the suspicion out of his voice. if they had a secret that was none of his business, _he_ wouldn't pry. "yes," said mr. fulton, and made no further explanation. "but there were two of you on the island after me, weren't there? who was the other hero?" tod wanted to know. "where were you, that you knew there were two of us?" "i was all doubled up in that little anteroom where the dog was--doubled up laughing." then he added hastily, thinking he had teased poor jerry far enough: "but i was locked in." "why locked in, if mr. billings had gone to bring your father? afraid you'd up and rescue yourself?" jerry's tone was downright sarcastic. "no, jerry--you see, the island--that is," looking toward mr. fulton as if for permission to go on, "that is, there's something going on on lost island that mr. billings figures isn't anybody else's business, and he didn't want to take chances of my nosing around." "i see," said jerry dryly. "so of course rather than row you across to dry land himself he brought your father here to get you. it's all as plain as the wart on a pumpkinhead's nose!" "now, jerry, you're getting way up in the air without any cause. i'll tell you this much, because i think you've got a right to know: mr. billing's secret really is mine. just as soon as i dare i'll tell you all about it. but what became of your friend--if there _were_ two of you?" "i was so peeved that i forgot all about phil. it's phil fulton----" "what!" cried tod. "cousin phil. where is he?" "standing on the bank just opposite lost island and figuring out how soon he ought to give me up for drowned or hand-axed by a savage female. he may have gone for the sheriff by this time--or the coroner. better take me to shore here and i'll go back." mr. fulton began pulling the boat toward shore. "how did he happen to get into this?" he asked. jerry told him the whole story of the encounter with the boy scouts. "they've pitched camp there, so i guess i'll see if they can dry me out and put me up for the night," he finished. as the boat neared shore tod began to show signs of suppressed excitement. finally, as jerry was about to jump out into the shallow water, being already soaked through, tod began coaxingly: "why couldn't i go on with jerry, dad? you told me you'd let me go camping with the bunch, don't you remember? and i promised phil i'd show him the best bass lake in the country----" "i ought to take you back to town and let doc burgess look you over. maybe the bones are pressing on your brain where you bumped your head. you act like it. but the fact is i _didn't_ want to go back to watertown--i ought to chase right down to chester for that timer. it was promised for to-morrow, and there isn't a minute to be lost. there aren't any falls down this way, are there?" he asked with mock seriousness. "come on, dad, say i can go!" begged tod. "we-l-l," hesitated mr. fulton, "suppose we say i'll let you stay till morning--or night, rather. then we'll see." jerry jumped out at this point and splashed his way to shore. he had a feeling that the two might want to talk without being overheard. apparently he was right, as for a good five minutes the two conversed in low tones. jerry tried his best not to hear what was said, but every now and then a sentence reached his ears. but it was so much greek as far as he was concerned. he had walked inland a bit, finally striking the narrow path that fishermen had cut along the top of the high bank. it swung back toward the edge, cut off from view by a rank growth of willows. he noticed that the boat had drifted downstream until it now stood almost opposite him, and only a few feet from shore. thus it was that, as mr. fulton backed water with his left-hand oar and rammed the nose of the boat toward the shelving beach, he heard one complete sentence, distinct and understandable. "it's up to you, tod, to get them away. we can't afford any complications at this stage of the game. to-morrow is the day!" "trust me, dad!" exclaimed tod, going up and giving his father's shoulder a squeeze. jerry waited for no more. bending low, he scurried far down the path, so that tod could have no suspicion that his chum had overheard. "are you coming?" he shouted when he felt that he had gone far enough. "hold up a second and i'll be with you. good night, dad." "good night, mr. fulton," shouted jerry in turn, then waited for tod. the journey to the boy scout camp was made in silence, for jerry did not feel that he dared ask any more questions, and tod volunteered no further explanation. just outside the ring of light cast by the deserted camp fire, however, jerry halted and asked: "thought what you'll tell _them?_" "why, no. just what i told you, jerry." "you can't--unless you tell them more. they'd never be satisfied with _that_." "i'm sorry, jerry. i'd like to tell you the whole yarn, but--but you see how it is." "i don't but i guess i can wait. only i do think you ought to have something cooked up that would stop their questions. will you leave it to me?" "surest thing you know. what'll you say?" "that's my secret. you play up to my leads, that's all you've got to do. _hello_, bunch!" he shouted. "wow! hooray! there he is!" came cries of delight from the darkness in the direction of the river, and a moment later the boys, who had been almost frantic with worry over the non-appearance of jerry, came trooping up. when they found tod with him, their joy was unbounded. their excited questions and exclamations of surprise gave jerry a much-needed instant in which to collect his story-inventing wits. at last phil quieted down his dancing mob and put the question jerry had been awaiting: "how did you do it?" "that's the funny part of it. i didn't. tod's dad came along and did it for me." "i hope he beat up that old grouch----" "huh, you got another guess coming. they're old friends----yes," as a cry of unbelief went up, "that's why tod was in no hurry to be rescued. his name's billings, and mr. fulton used to be in business with him. is yet, isn't he, tod?" "uhuh--i think so." "well, you may know there's fish around lost island. billings is what i call a fish hog. he don't want anybody to know about the place--wants it all for himself. tod drifts onto the island and the man can't very well throw _him_ off, half drowned as he is. then, when he gets the water out of tod, all but his brain, he finds it's the son of his partner, and he can't very well throw him off _then_. there's a girl on that mound out there, and she comes in with a string of the biggest fish you ever saw. you couldn't drive tod off with a club after that. after the fish, i mean, not the girl. he gets a message to his father, and makes his plans to stay there all summer, but dad comes down to-night and spoils his plans by dragging him off. he kind of thinks he doesn't want all the fish dragged out by the tails--he likes to hook a few big ones himself. i'd got out into the middle of the plum when i heard the sound of prodigious weeping--it was tod, saying a last farewell to the big fishes--and the little girl. "so i swam back. and here he is and here i am, and we're both pledged not to go back on lost island." "righto!" cried tod, in great relief, jerry could plainly see. "and dad asked me to coax you chaps to keep away from old billings--he's a regular bear, anyway. but to make up for that, to-morrow i'm going to take you to the swellest pickerel lake you ever laid eyes on." "you mean _bass_ lake, don't you?" asked jerry maliciously. "pickerel and bass," agreed tod without an instant's hesitation. "let's turn in; we want to make an early start." it was late, however, before the camp was finally quiet, for someone started a story, and that brought on another and another, till half of the scouts fell asleep sitting bolt upright. but as one lone boy, the last awake, rolled near the fire in his borrowed blanket, he chuckled knowingly to himself and said: "foxy old tod! dad sure can 'trust' him. but i'm just going to be curious enough to block his little game so far as i'm concerned. _i'm_ going to stick around!" chapter xi a mid-air miracle jerry had a hard time next morning explaining just why he couldn't go along on the proposed fishing trip. tod was inclined to accept his excuses at face value, but dave and frank could not understand why jerry should so suddenly about-face in his notions. just the day before he had talked as if he was prepared to stay a week. but his promise of a speedy return--with his own fishing tackle--finally silenced their grumblings, especially when he agreed to make their peace with two mothers who would be asking some pretty hard questions on their own return. but jerry was not to get away without taking part in an incident that almost provided a disagreeable end for the adventure. it was while they were all at breakfast. tod had been giving a glorious account of the thrilling sport he had enjoyed on his last trip to the bass lake he promised to guide them to. suddenly, in the midst of a sentence, he stopped dead. his jaw dropped. he positively gasped. "_there she is!_" then his face became blank. after a hasty glance about the circle of astonished faces, he went on with his fish story. but he was not allowed to go far. it was phil, taking a cousin's rights, who put the sharp question. "is your mind wandering, or what? 'there she is!' who is _she_--and where? we don't want to hear your old fish yarn anyway." "i guess he's still thinking of that island girl," suggested jerry, realizing that tod had put himself into some kind of a hole, and wishing to help his chum out. but phil was not to be so easily satisfied. "there's something mighty queer about this whole proposition. that yarn of yours last night, jerry, didn't sit very easy on my pillow, and it doesn't rest very easy on my breakfast, either. what's the idea? what you trying to hide, you two?" "nothing," said tod, and jerry repeated the word. "nothing! you make me tired. now, out with it. i swam across that creek last night in my clothes on account of you, and i figure you've got a right to tell me why." "and i figure you've got a right to believe me when i told you why last night." "you didn't. you left it to jerry to cook up a story that would keep us from asking questions. and now you yell out, 'there she is!' and sit there gaping at the sky, with your mouth wide open as if you expected a crow to lay an egg on your tongue. what does it all mean?" "it means i'm still capable of taking care of my own business!" snapped tod. "oh--very well. after this i'll let you." it was an uncomfortable group that sat about the rest of the breakfast, even after tod had begged his cousin's pardon for ungrateful loss of temper, and phil had said that it was "all right." jerry was afraid for awhile that the fishing trip would be called off, but in the boisterous horseplay that went with the washing of the scanty dishes, all differences were forgotten, especially when phil, scuffling in friendly fashion, put tod down on his back and pulled that squirming wrestler's nose till he shouted "enough!" it was with feelings of mingled amusement and relief that jerry watched the noisy crowd pile into the two boats, the scout boat and the _big four_, and paddle downstream, soon to be lost sight of behind lost island. his satisfaction was somewhat lessened by the fact that phil had felt it necessary that one of their number remain behind to stand guard over the camp, but jerry was sure that he would have no great trouble in keeping away from frank willis, trusting that "budge" would live up to his reputation. he began well, for hardly was the camp deserted before he went back to his blankets. "now some folks like fishing," he yawned, "and i do too when the fish don't bite too fast; but i like sleep. it's good for what ails you, and it's good if nothing ails you. take it in regular doses or between meals--it always straightens you out." jerry did not argue with him. a few minutes later his regular breathing told the world at large and jerry in particular that so far as one budge was concerned the coast was clear. as a matter of fact, jerry did not feel that there would be anything to see until late in the afternoon at best. the conversation between mr. fulton and the man billings had seemed to indicate that nothing out of the ordinary was to happen that day, but mr. fulton's parting words to tod gave jerry hope. "this is the day!" he had said. at any rate, he slipped out of camp and scouted about for a comfortable spot in which to keep an eye on lost island. but after he had sat there a half hour, he began to have twinges of the same disease that afflicted budge and he saw that it would be necessary for him to move about a bit in order to stay awake. he regretted having left the camp without a fishing pole; that would at least give him something to do to pass the time away. with something like that in mind he started back toward the shady place where he had left budge snoozing. but as the walk started his blood circulating again, and his brain became active once more, he had a new idea. "old tod's a sly fox," he said to himself. "he's not going to be among the missing when the fun is on. he's going to take them down to his bass lake, and then he's going to slip away. he'll have to come back by land, so he'll probably take them to last shot lake. it'll take them an hour to get there, but he can come back afoot in half that time if he's in a hurry--and i guess he is. he most likely will hang around half an hour before he thinks it's safe to make his getaway. that's two hours all told. in some fifteen or twenty minutes he ought to come skulking along through the woods. "there's that hill yonder--it ought to make a good spy-post. little jerry bids these parts a fond adieu." something like a strong quarter of a mile down the river, and perhaps that much inland, stood a lonesome hill, almost bare of trees save a clump of perhaps a dozen on the very summit. it was an ideal hiding place. leaving the road after cutting through the river timber and following it a few hundred yards, he plunged into a dense growth of scrub oak and hazel brush that extended almost to the base of his hill. he came to one bare spot, perhaps an acre in extent, and was about to leave the shelter of the brush for the comparatively easy going of the weedy grass, when, almost opposite him, he saw a figure emerge from the trees. at first he thought it was tod, and he chuckled to himself as he thought how quickly his guess had been proved true. but when a second stepped out close behind the first, jerry realized that neither one was his friend, even before he noticed that both were carrying rifles. a pair of hunters, no doubt, jerry surmised, although he wondered idly what they would be hunting at this season of the year. rabbits were "wormy" and the law prohibited the shooting of almost everything else. but "city hunters," jerry derided, "from their clothes. they think bluejays and crows are good sport." that the hunters were looking for birds was evident, for they kept their eyes turned toward the tree-tops. thus it was that they did not see jerry crouching in the brush a scant dozen feet from where they broke into the woods again. he was near enough to overhear them perfectly, but not a word could he understand, for they were talking very earnestly together in some outlandish tongue that, as jerry said, made him seasick to try to follow. but as they talked they pointed excitedly, first toward the sky and then straight ahead, and that part of their conversation was perfectly understandable to the boy. a sudden wild thought entered his mind. here were two hunters out in the woods at a time when no real sportsmen carried anything but rods and landing nets. the mystery of their purpose reminded him of another mystery, and immediately his mind connected the two, even before he noticed the constant recurrence of a word that sounded much as a foreigner would pronounce "lost island." jerry realized, even as the thought passed through his mind, that it was the wildest kind of guess, but it was enough to set him stealthily picking his way through the brush in the wake of the two. he saw, just in time to avoid running smack into them, that just before they reached the road, although now out of the heavier woods, they had stopped and were talking together more excitedly than ever. something had happened, jerry realized at once, but he could not puzzle out what it was, although he looked and listened as intently as they seemed to be doing. he was about to give it up in disgust, when he became conscious of a queer droning noise, as of a swarm of bees, or a distant threshing machine. strangely, the sound did not seem to be coming from the woods or fields about him, but from the blank sky itself. then he remembered how tod had acted at breakfast--how he too, like these men, had been apparently staring into space. jerry read the newspapers; he was an eager student of one of the scientific magazines; he had sat in mr. fulton's basement workshop and listened to many a discussion of the latest wonders of invention. but even then he did not at once realize that the sound he had been hearing really came from the sky, and that the purring noise was the whir of the propellers of an aeroplane. he looked for a full minute at the soaring speck against the blue sky before he exclaimed aloud. "i'll be darned--an airship!" fortunately, the two men were too engaged to pay any attention to sounds right beside them. but jerry glanced hastily in their direction as he dropped back into the shelter of a big clump of elderberry. then he looked again. there could be no doubt the two were following the flight of the aeroplane. they stepped off a few feet to the right and jerry could see only their shoulders and heads above the bushes. he was curious to see better what they were doing, but he dared not cross the open ground between. so instead he turned his attention again to the soaring man-bird. it was coming closer. it swung down lower and circled in over lost island, barely a hundred feet above the tree-tops. a sudden cry from the two men drew his eager eyes away from the approaching aircraft, but he looked back just in time to witness a wonderful sight. motionless, poised like a soaring hawk, the aeroplane, its propeller flashing in the sunlight, hung over lost island. for fully six seconds it remained there, not moving an inch. suddenly it lurched, dropped half the distance to the trees, the yellow planes snapping like gun-shots. it looked as if it would be wrecked, and jerry started forward as if to go to the rescue. in the half instant he had looked away, the machine had righted and purring like an elephant-size pussy, was darting out over the water. a cheer sounded faintly from lost island; jerry wanted to cheer himself. now he heard another kind of sound, but this time there was no doubt in his mind as to its source. there could be no mistaking the put-put-put of a single cylinder motor boat. it was coming up plum run, probably from the "city"--chester. he could see it swinging around into the channel from behind lost island. it crept close along shore, and with a final "put!" came to a stop just where the boat had landed the night before with mr. fulton. three men crowded forward and jumped to shore; one of them, jerry could have sworn, was mr. fulton himself. as if the pilot of the aeroplane had been waiting for their coming he circled back toward the island. he had climbed far into the blue, but came down a steep slant that brought him within two hundred feet of earth almost before one could gather his wits to measure the terrific drop. out across plum run he swept in a wide circle, and jerry saw that the aeroplane would pass almost directly overhead. he had forgotten all about the two men by this time, so keen was his interest in the daring aviator. he certainly had nerve, to go on with his flight after the accident that had so nearly ended his career only a minute back. and then jerry was treated to a sight that made him rub his eyes in amazement. the accident was repeated--it had been no accident. now only a hundred feet up, directly above him, the big machine seemed to quiver with a sudden increase or change of power. a rasping, ear-racking sound--a spurt of blue vapor--and the aeroplane did what no other flying machine had ever done before; it stopped stock-still in mid-air. jerry could see every detail of the big machine, its glistening canvas, its polished aluminum motor and taut wires and braces. he could even see the pilot, leaning far over to one side, a smile of satisfaction on his face. jerry could hardly resist shouting a word of greeting to the bold aeronaut. he did shout, but it was a cry of horror, for all in a moment, a streak of flame seemed to leap out of the motor, there was a fearful hiss of escaping gas, a report that fairly shook the tree-tops, and with planes crumpling under the tremendous pressure of the air rushing past as it fell, the aeroplane plunged to earth. yet, even in his intense excitement, jerry, as he raced to where the flaming machine had fallen, caught at a fleeting impression: there had been two explosions, and the first seemed to come from close beside him. the aeroplane had come to earth a good hundred yards away, and jerry made all speed in that direction. he passed the spot where the two men had been standing--they were still there, and seemed in no hurry to go to the rescue. one of them, jerry noticed as he rushed by, shouting "quick!" had just thrown his gun under his arm, but the action did not impress the boy at the time as having any significance. he raced on, the flaming wreck now in sight. he fairly flew through the last dense thicket and jumped out, just in time to collide with another hurrying figure. when the two picked themselves up, jerry saw that it was tod. "hurry, jerry," he cried. "i'm afraid that poor billings is killed!" chapter xii an empty rifle shell in that few steps till they reached the smoking mass of wreckage, many things became clear to jerry. he realized that lost island had been merely a building ground for mr. fulton's experiments in aeronautics, that this sorry looking ruin was his invention. he remembered the long, low shed on the island--that was the workshop. then they were at the verge of the twisted and wrecked machine, frantically tugging at rods and splintered wood in an effort to get at the unconscious form covered by the debris. fortunately there was no great weight to lift, and there was really no fire once the smoke of the explosion had cleared away. in a very few seconds they had dragged the man clear and laid him out flat on his back in a grassy spot, where tod remained to fan the man's face while jerry hurried toward camp for water. blackened and bleeding as the man was, jerry readily recognized him as billings. he found budge startled by the explosion and hesitating about leaving the camp unguarded to go to the rescue. jerry's shouted command brought him galloping across the field with a pail of water, and the two boys made good speed on the way back. they found the man still unconscious but beginning to writhe about in pain. "i think his leg's broken," cried tod, his face white with the strain of helpless waiting. "from the way he doubles up every little bit i think he must be hurt inside. the cuts that are bleeding don't seem to be very bad. let me have the water." "do you suppose we really ought to----" began jerry, but paused, for budge had answered his question effectually. without a word he stooped over the moaning man. outer clothes were taken off in a trice. without jarring the man about, almost without moving him, garment by garment budge gradually removed, replaced, examined, until every part of the man's anatomy had been looked over. finally he straightened up, and for the first time the other two, who had stood helplessly by, saw how set and white the young scout's face was. "leg's broken all right," he said slowly. "so's his arm--and at least two ribs. maybe more. side's pretty badly torn and i think he's bleeding internally. we've got to get a doctor without a second's loss of time. tod, you chase along like a good fellow and see how quick you can get to a telephone. jerry, lend a hand here and we'll fix a splint for his leg--lucky it's fractured below the knee or we'd have a time. i don't know whether i can do anything for his ribs or not. hustle up, tod--what you standing there gaping for?" "where--where'd you learn to do things like that?" blurted tod, as he started away. "what? this?" in surprise. "every scout knows how to do simple things like this." and he turned back to his bandaging, for he had brought along the camp kit, with its gauze and cotton. out came his big jackknife and he cut a thumb-sized willow wand, which he split and trimmed. in less than no time he had snapped the bone back into place and wound a professional looking bandage about the home-made splint. he was just about to turn his attention to the injured side when a great crackling in the brush caused both boys to turn. three men came bounding across the open space, the foremost, mr. fulton. "is he alive?" he exclaimed before he recognized the two boys. "yes," answered jerry, "but he's hurt pretty bad--inside, budge says. tod just----" "tod! he here? did he go after a doctor?" "here he comes now. did you get the doctor?" shouted budge and jerry together. "i got his office. it's our own doctor burgess. i got mrs. burgess and she says the doctor is out this way, and she'll get him by telephone--she can locate him better than i could. he ought to be here most any minute. i'm to watch for him along the road." tod darted back toward the line of bushes that marked the highway. but it was a good half hour before a shout proclaimed the coming of the doctor, and in that time budge had had a chance to show more evidences of his scout training. after a hurried trip back to camp he fashioned bandages that held the broken ribs in place; he bound the scalp wound neatly, and stopped the flow of blood from an ugly scratch on the man's thigh. the others stood about, helping only as he directed. it was with a wholesome respect that they eyed him when the job was finished. but it took the doctor to sum their admiration up in one crisp "bully--couldn't have done it better myself." he felt about gently and at last straightened up and remarked: "he's good enough to move, but not very far. where's the nearest farmhouse?" "half a mile, nearly," answered tod. "i think he'd want to be taken--home," mr. fulton said hesitatingly. "if we could move him to the river bank i guess we could get him across all right--to lost island, you know. his daughter's there to nurse him." "lost island?" questioned the doctor, raising his eyebrows. "we-l-l--son, can you make a stretcher?" turning to budge. "come on, jerry. back in a minute," called budge over his shoulder to the doctor. jerry followed to the scout camp, where budge caught up a pair of stout saplings that had been cut for tent poles but had not been needed. "grab up a couple blankets," he directed, setting off again through the brush on a run. jerry was well out of breath, having contrived to trip himself twice over the trailing blankets, when he finally rejoined the group. budge reached out for the blankets and soon had a practical stretcher made, onto which the injured man was gently lifted. mr. fulton and one of the strangers took hold each of an end and they set out directly for the bank of plum run. for the first time jerry had a chance to observe the two who had come with tod's father. heavy-set, rather stolid chaps they were, just beginning to show a paunch, and gray about the temples. they looked good-natured enough but gave the impression of being set in their ways, a judgment jerry had no occasion to change later. they spoke with an odd sort of accent but were evidently used to conversing in english, although the first glance told that they were not americans. they were plainly but expensively dressed; they looked like men of wealth rather than like business men. they had come to see mr. fulton's invention tried out, jerry surmised, and, if it proved successful, perhaps to buy it. those two men he had seen with the rifles were foreigners too, but of a different station in life and, jerry was sure, belonging under a different flag. they were soon down to the water's edge, where was moored the launch jerry had heard chugging over to the island not long before. blankets were brought from the scout camp and piled on the launch floor to make a comfortable bed, and poor billings was carefully lifted from the stretcher and laid in the boat. the doctor and mr. fulton got in. the two men remained on the bank. mr. fulton looked at them questioningly, but their heavy faces gave no sign. so he asked: "you will wait for me, i trust! i don't want you to feel that this--accident----" he hesitated over the word--"makes the scheme a failure. there is something about it all that i can't understand, but a close examination may reveal----" "ah, yes," answered the shorter of the two, "we will want to be just as sure of the failure as we insisted on being of the success. but you understand of course that we feel--ah--feel considerably--ah--disappointed in the trial flight. oh, yes, we will wait for you. you will not be long?" "just long enough for the doctor to find out what needs to be done. that slim youngster there is my son tod. he knows almost as much about my--about _it_ as i do. tod, you take care of mr. lewis and mr. harris till i come back. you'd best stay close to the _skyrocket_; we don't want to take any chances, you know." all the time he had been talking he had been tinkering with the motor, which was having a little balky spell. at his last words jerry spoke up hastily: "i'll chase over and keep an eye on the _skyrocket_ while the rest of you take your time," and he hurried off, adding to himself: "_skyrocket's_ a good name, 'cause it sure went up in a blaze of glory, and came down like the burnt stick." but he had other things in mind besides the mere watching of the wreck. at mr. fulton's hesitation over the word "accident" a picture had popped into his mind--two men carrying rifles and peering up over the tree-tops. he was destined to see them again, for as he crossed the road he heard a crackling in the underbrush of someone in hasty retreat. he blamed his thoughtlessness in whistling as he ran along; perhaps he might have caught them red-handed if he had been careful. as it was, he saw the two scurrying toward the south, whereas before they had been going northward. he did not go directly to the fallen aeroplane. instead he picked his way carefully over the route the men had followed just after the explosion, stooping low and examining every spear of grass. his search was quickly rewarded. just where the trampled turf showed that the two men had stood for some time he pounced upon a powder-blackened cartridge, bigger than any rifle shell he had ever seen before, even in his uncle's old springfield. that was all, but it was enough to confirm his suspicions. he walked over to the charred and twisted remains of the _skyrocket_, fighting down his strong impulse to pry into the thing and see if he could discover the secret of its astounding exploits before the crash came. it did not take more than the most fleeting glance to see, even with his limited knowledge of flying machines, that this one was very much different from the others. he was glad when the others came up to save him from yielding to his curiosity. tod and the two men were deep in a discussion of mr. fulton's invention, but jerry gained little by that, as most of the technical terms were so much greek to him. tod talked like a young mechanical genius--or a first-class parrot. the two men listened to his glowing praises in no little amusement, venturing a word now and then just to egg the boy on--though he needed none. jerry waited for a chance to break in forcibly. "i say, tod." he interrupted a wild explanation of the theory of the differential, "i expect i'd better chase along back home. i can just catch the interurban if i cut loose now. i--i want to hike back and spread the good news that you aren't decorating a watery grave." "i s'pose i'll have to stay here and help the scouts mount guard over the relics here--when will you be back?" "to-morrow, maybe." "you can come back with dad. he'll probably come back to watertown to-night, after he takes these two gentlemen to chester in the launch. he'll probably want you to help him bring down some repairs." "you think he'll try to patch up the _skyrocket?_" asked jerry. "doesn't look hardly worth while." "worth while!" exploded tod. "is a half million dollars worth while?" then he repented having spoken out so freely, reminded by the sharp glances of the two men. "oh, jerry's all right," he apologized. "dad thinks as much of him as he does of me." "well, i'll be off," said jerry hurriedly. "tell your father i'll see him either to-night or early in the morning--and that i've got something important to tell him." "about the _skyrocket?_" demanded tod eagerly, but jerry only shook his head teasingly and began to hurry across the fields and woods to the interurban tracks. he was lucky, for hardly had he reached the road crossing before the familiar whistle sounded down the track. the motorman toot-tooted for him to get off the rails, as this was not a regular stop, but jerry stood his ground and finally the man relented at the last minute and threw on the brakes. watertown reached, jerry could not hold his good news till he got home, but to every one he met he shouted the glad word that tod fulton had been found, alive and uninjured. the open disbelief with which his announcement was met gave him a lot of secret satisfaction. in fact, he could hardly restrain an occasional, "i told you so." his mother was the only one to whom he allowed himself to use that phrase, but then, he _had_ told her. he could hardly wait until mr. fulton should return from chester, so eager was he to tell of his discovery there in the woods, but the slow day passed, and bedtime came without any sign of a light in the big house down the street. reluctantly he finally went up to his room, but for a long time he sat with his nose flattened out on the window pane, watching patiently. at last he was rewarded. out of the gloom of the fulton house he saw a tiny point of light spring, followed by a flood of radiance across the lawn. "what are you doing, son?" came a deep masculine voice from the sitting room. "thought you had gone to bed hours ago." "mr. fulton just came home, pa, and tod told me to tell him----" "guess it'll keep till morning, won't it? besides, i expect tod saw his father later than you did." "i'll be right back, dad----" this from just outside the kitchen door. "it's just awfully important----" the door banged to just then. mr. ring chuckled. he believed in letting boys alone. jerry sped down the dark walk and jabbed vigorously at the special doorbell, hurried a little bit by the fact that as he came through the wide gate he had a feeling that the big gateposts did not cause all the shadow he passed through. "i'm getting nervous since i saw those two men to-day," he reminded himself. "i'll soon be afraid of my own shadow--but i hope it doesn't take to whispering too." mr. fulton came hurrying to the door, a big look of relief on his face when he saw who it was. "i couldn't wait till morning, mr. fulton. i just had to tell you i knew the _skyrocket_ didn't fall of its own free will. i saw two men skulking in the woods. they both carried big rifles. i was sure i heard one of them go off just before the explosion came, and on the ground where they stood i found _this!_" he handed mr. fulton the rifle shell. "good boy!" exclaimed the man, almost as excited as the youngster. "i'm beginning to see daylight. you keep all this under your hat, sonny, and come over as early in the morning as you can. we'll talk it over then, after i've had a chance to sleep on _this_." he indicated the cartridge. "tell me, though--was one of the men a tall, lean chap with a sabre scar on his jaw----" "they were both heavy-set, scowly looking----" "hm. that makes it all tangled again. well, it may look clearer in the morning. chase along, jerry; i've got a busy night's work ahead of me. no," he added as jerry began to speak, "you couldn't help me any. not to-night. to-morrow you can." jerry wanted to tell him about the whispering shadows, but hesitated because it sounded so foolish. his heart skipped a beat or two as he drew near the tall posts, but this time the gateway was as silent as the night about him. "some little imaginer i am," he laughed to himself as he skipped back into the house. chapter xiii the game begins the sun was not up earlier next morning than jerry ring. however, he waited till after breakfast before going over to rouse mr. fulton, who would, he knew, sleep later after his strenuous night's work. he spent the time in an impatient arrangement and rearrangement of his fishing tackle, for he had a feeling in his bones that this visit to lost island might be more than a one-day affair. mrs. ring finally appeared on the scene, to tease him over his early rising. "i don't need to look for the fishing tackle when you get up ahead of me; i know it's there." but jerry only grinned. his mother was a good pal, who never spoiled any of his fun without having a mighty good reason. now he saw her setting about fixing up a substantial lunch, and he knew that there would be no coaxing necessary to gain her consent to his trip. he slipped up behind her unawares and kissed her smackingly on the back of the neck--perhaps that was one reason she was such a good pal. breakfast over, jerry caught up his pole and tackle box and hustled down the street. the fulton house looked silent and deserted, he thought, as he reached up to push the secret button. the loud b-r-r-r echoed hollowly through the big house; jerry sat down on the step to await the opening of the door, for he figured mr. fulton would be slow in waking up. but the minute he had allowed stretched into two, so he reached up and gave the button another vigorous dig. still there was no response. puzzled, he held the button down for fully a minute, the bell making enough racket to wake the dead. vaguely alarmed, jerry waited. no one came. putting his mouth to the keyhole, he shouted: "mr. fulton--wake up--it's jerry!" then he put his ear against the door and listened for the footsteps he was sure would respond to his call. silence profound. again he shouted and listened. and then came a response that set him frantically tugging at the door--his name called, faintly, as if from a great distance. but the door did not yield. jerry bethought himself of a lockless window off the back porch roof, which he and tod had used more than once in time of need. he quickly shinned up the post and swung himself up by means of the tin gutter. in through the window, through the long hall and down the stairway he plunged, instinct taking him toward mr. fulton's bedroom-study. the door stood ajar. he pushed it open and looked in. a fearful sight met his eyes. on the bed, where he lay half undressed on top of the covers, was mr. fulton, blood streaming down his battered face. "what has happened?" gasped jerry, seeing that the man's eyes were open. but there was no answer, and he saw that mr. fulton was too dazed to give any account of the events that had left him so befuddled. jerry got water and bathed and dressed the deep cuts and bruises as best he could. the shock of the cold water restored the man's faculties in some measure and he finally managed a coherent statement. "it was your two friends, i guess. they broke in on me while i was working downstairs. one stood guard over me while the other ransacked the house. then, when they couldn't find anything, they tried to force me to tell where my papers were hid. that was when i rebelled, and they pretty near did for me. i put up a pretty good scrap for a while, until one of them got a nasty twist on my arm. i guess the shoulder's dislocated; i can't move it. but i guess i left a few marks myself--that's why they were so rough. but all they got was the satisfaction of beating me up." "i wish i knew what it was all about," remarked jerry. "i feel like a fellow at a moving picture show who came in about the middle of the reel. and there's nobody to tell me what happened before." "i guess there's no harm in telling _you_--now. you see, jerry, the big outstanding feature of the war across the water has been the work done by two recent inventions, the submarine and the aeroplane. that set me thinking. the water isn't deep enough around here to do much experimenting with submarines, but there's dead oodles of air. so aeroplanes it had to be. now, the aircraft have been a distinct disappointment, except as scouting helps, because the high speed of the aeroplanes makes accurate bomb-dropping almost impossible. "that was my starter. if i could perfect some means of stopping a machine in mid-flight, just long enough to drop a hundred pounds of destruction overboard with a ninety per cent chance of hitting the mark, i had it. well, i got it. the _skyrocket_ is the first aeroplane that can stop dead still--or was. i showed my model to the proper government officials, but even after i had cut my way through endless red tape i found only a cold ear and no welcome at all. i think the official i talked to had a pet invention of his own. "at any rate i was plumb disgusted. i finally took my idea to the business agent of a foreign power--and the reception i got almost took me off my feet. meet me halfway! they pretty near hounded me to death till i finally consented to give them an option on the thing, but then my troubles began. the man who had made the deal with me had to step aside for a couple of old fogies who can't grasp anything they can't see or handle. i was about disgusted, when a friend introduced me to a friend of his, who hinted that there were other markets where the pay was better. the upshot of it was that i gave this man--as agent of course for _his_ government--a second option on the invention to hold good if no deal was made with the first party before august first, when option number one expires. "mr. lewis and mr. harris represent--well, the name of the country doesn't make any difference, but they hold the first option. they are cautious; they won't buy unless they can see a complete machine that works perfectly. the others are willing to buy the idea outright, just as it stands. "of course i have no proof that the two men you saw--and they are the same i am sure as the two who burglarized me--have anything to do with my invention, but i'd venture a guess that their aim is to prevent my being able to demonstrate my machine before august first. what do you think?" "i think we'd better be getting busy." "there's nothing to do. of course, i don't lose any money by it--i gain some. but i hate to sell my idea to a gang of cutthroats and thieves. i resent being black-handed into a thing like that. but with billings laid out, the _skyrocket_ wrecked and myself all binged up, there's little chance. i suppose i could get a lot of mechanics and turn out a new plane in time, but i don't know where i could get men i could trust. like as not those two villains, or their employer, would manage to get at least one of their crew into the camp, and there'd be a real tragedy before we got through." "i tell you what," suggested jerry. "if you feel strong enough to manage it, you come over to the house and let ma get you some breakfast. then you'll feel a little more hopeful--ma's breakfasts always work that way," he said loyally. "there is bound to be a way out of this mix-up, and we'll find it or know the reason why." over a savory pile of pancakes mr. fulton did grow more hopeful, especially when jerry began to outline a scheme that had been growing in his mind. he began by asking questions. "do you have to have such skilled mechanics to make those repairs?" "well, no, not as long as i have skilled eyes to oversee the job. a good deal of it is just dub work. most anybody could do it if he was told how. i could do the directing easy enough; but i'm not left-handed. however, i'll chase downtown and let doc burgess look me over; maybe my shoulder isn't as bad as it feels. but i'm afraid my right arm is out of the fight for at least a couple of weeks--and there's just two weeks between now and august first. i'd not be much good except as a boss, and a boss isn't much good without somebody to stand over. so there you are, right back where we started." "not on your life! we're a mile ahead, and almost out of the woods. if you can boss dubs, and get anything out of them, why i know where you can get at least nine of them, and they're all to be trusted--absolutely." "tod could help a lot, and i suppose you are one of the dubs, but where are the rest?" "phil fulton and his boy scouts----" "my nephew, you mean, from chester? i suppose i could get him, but just what are these boy scouts?" "you've been so interested in your experiments that you don't know what the rest of the world is doing. never heard of the boy scouts?" jerry, secure in his own recent knowledge, was openly scornful. "oh, yes, now that you remind me, i do remember of reading about some red-blooded boy organization--a little too vigorous for chaps like you and tod, eh?" he teased. "you'll see what happens before the summer is ended. but that isn't helping _us_ out any, now. phil's patrol is down there with tod right this minute, and i bet you they know a thing or two about mechanics. that seems to be their specialty--knowing something about most everything. i'm mighty sure that if you tell us what to do, we can do it. we may not know a lot about the why of it, but we're strong on following instructions." "i'd be willing to take a chance on you fellows if it wasn't for the time. the _skyrocket's_ a complete wreck. it took billings a good many times two weeks to build her up in the first place----" "but you're not losing anything. the boys would be tickled to death to tackle it, and if we do lose out finally, why we've lost nothing but the time. it's like a big game----" "yes," observed mr. fulton dryly. "a big game, with the handicaps all against us. if we win, we lose money, and we have the pleasant chance of getting knocked over the head most any night." "but that isn't the idea. a set of foreigners are trying to force some free-born americans to do something we don't want to do. are we going to let them?" "not by a jugfull!" exclaimed mr. fulton, getting up painfully from his chair. "i'll go on down to the doctor--i expect i should have first thing, before i started to stiffen up. you go ahead to lost island, and see what can be done toward picking up the pieces and taking the _skyrocket_ over to the island. if there are enough unbroken pieces we may have a chance. i'll be along by noon." he hobbled down the street and jerry, after telling his mother what had happened, and getting reluctant consent to his extended absence, gathered together a few necessaries and made all speed for the interurban. there was no temptation to go to sleep this time, for his thoughts were racing madly ahead to the exciting plan to beat the schemers who had wrecked the _skyrocket_. at the same time he was conscious of a disappointed feeling in his heart; why could it not have been the united states that had bought the invention? that would have made the fight really worth while. for, to tell the truth, the two unenthusiastic owners of the first option did not appeal to him much more than did the others. he found the whole boy scout crew gathered about the _skyrocket_, having given up a perfectly wonderful fishing trip to guard the airship. jerry quickly told the story of the morning's events to phil, interrupted at every other sentence by the rest of the excited scouts. the whole affair appealed to their imaginations, and when he came to the proposition he had made mr. fulton, there was no doubt of their backing up his offer. "let's get busy!" shouted dick garrett, assistant patrol leader. "we ought to be all ready to move across by the time mr. fulton gets here." and he started toward the wreck as if to tear the thing apart with his bare hands and carry it piecemeal to the banks of the plum. "we won't get far, that way, dick," observed phil. "first of all we want a plan of action. and before that, we need to investigate, to see just how much damage has been done and how big the pieces are going to be that we'll have to carry." "but we don't know the first thing about how the contraption works," objected dick, somewhat to jerry's satisfaction, for there was a little jealous thought in his heart that phil would naturally try to take away from him the leadership in the plan. but phil soon set his mind at rest. "we don't need to know how it works. all we need to know is whether we have to break it apart or if we can carry it down mostly in one piece. first, though, we've got to organize ourselves. jerry's the boss of this gang, and as patrol leader i propose to be straw-boss. anybody got any objections? no? well, then, boss jerry, what's orders?" much pleased, jerry thought over plans. a workable one quickly came to him. "first of all we'll follow out your idea, phil. let's all get around it and see if we can lift it all together. dave, you catch hold of that rod sticking out in front of you--it won't bite. give him a hand, budge. all right, everybody! raise her easy--_so_." to their unbounded relief, nearly all the aeroplane rose together. one plane, it is true, gave one final c-c-r-rack! as the last whole rod on that side gave way; but the rest, twisted all out of shape and creaking and groaning, held together in one distorted mass. "all right," commanded jerry; "let her down again--easy, now. that's the ticket. now, frank--the two franks--you scout ahead and pick us out a clear trail to the water. you'll have to figure on a good twenty-foot clearance. "i guess we might as well finish the work you young sandows started. i see that the right plane--or wing or whatever you call it--is just as good as gone. we'll cut her away and that'll give us a better carrying chance." "why not take her all apart while we're at it, jerry?" suggested phil. "we'll have to anyway to get her over to the island." "just leave it to me and we won't. i've got a little scheme. who's got a heavy knife with a sharp big blade in it?" "that's part of our scout equipment," answered phil proudly. "come on, scouts, the boss says whack away the right wing." "wing?" grunted fred nelson, hacking vainly at the tough wood. "feels more like a drumstick to me!" although the rods were splintered badly they did not yield readily to the knives. the two trail scouts returned long before the task of clearing away the plane was finished. "there's a fairly easy way if we go around that hazel thicket and make for the road about a hundred yards south of here, then come back along the road to that cut-over piece by the little creek, go in through there to the river trail, and along that, south again, till we come just about straight across from here," reported the two. "all right. now one of you stay here and mount guard over the left-behinds, while the other goes ahead and shows us the way. how's the knife brigade coming on?" "ready any time you are. what's next?" "line up on each side the stick of the _skyrocket_, and we'll pick her up and tote her to the beach. back here, dave, you and barney; we need more around the motor--it weighs sixteen ounces to the pound. all set now? right-o--pick her up. lead ahead, frank." the unwieldy load swayed and threatened to buckle, and more than once they had to set it down and find new holds, but the winding road picked out by frank ellery was followed without any serious mishap, until at last they stood on the high bank overlooking the wide stretch of sandy beach beyond which plum run rippled along in the sunshine. "set her down--gently, now," ordered jerry. "we'll let her rest here while we bring up our reinforcements--and the rest of our baggage. phil, you take three scouts and go back and bring in the wings. leave frank there until you've gathered up every last scrap. the rest of us will stay here to figure out some way of getting our plunder shipped safely across to lost island." "go to it!" urged phil mockingly. "you've got some job ahead of you. you figure out how a rowboat's going to float that load across--and let me know about it." "yes," challenged a new voice, "you do that, and let me know about it too." mr. fulton had stepped unobserved through the border of trees and brush lining the river path. "huh!" bragged jerry. "if that was the hardest thing we had to do, we could use the _skyrocket_ for a fireworks celebration to-night!" chapter xiv patching the "skyrocket" but jerry gave no explanation of the method he intended to use in transporting the unwieldy bulk across the narrow stretch of water. while phil and his helpers disappeared, to bring up the rest of the aeroplane framework, he set his crew to work. the scout camp, which was something like a hundred feet north, yielded a couple of trappers' axes; with these he soon had two stout saplings cut and trimmed to an even length of thirty feet. in the larger end of each he cut a deep notch, while to the smaller ends he nailed a good-sized block, the nails found in an emergency locker on the _big four,_ both it and the boy scout boat having been brought down and hauled up on the beach. the two boats were now laid side by side, twenty odd feet apart. across the bows he laid the one sapling, across the sterns, the other, so that blocks and notches fitted down over the far edges of the boats. mr. fulton at once caught jerry's idea and nodded his head approvingly. "all right," he said, "if the saplings will hold up the weight." "they don't need to," explained jerry. "the _skyrocket_ will reach over to the inner edges of the boats; i measured the distance with my eye. all the sticks do is to hold the two ships together." phil's crew made two trips, on the second one bringing in frank, who had wrapped up a weird collection of broken-off parts in a piece of varnish-stiffened silk torn from one of the planes. it did not take long to load the "body" of the _skyrocket_ onto the saplings, the boats being still on shore. then, all pushing steadily, the strange double craft was slowly forced across the sand and into the shallow shore-water of plum bun. both boats settled dangerously near to the point of shipping water, so it was fortunate that the river was as calm as a millpond. at that, there was no hope that anyone could get in to row the boats. "strip for action!" shouted phil. "the boss says we're to swim across. likewise, the last one in's a rotten egg." the splashing that ensued, as ten youngsters plunged in, almost in a body, nearly swamped the boats. after his first shout of alarm, mr. fulton waved his hand gayly and shouted: "go to it, fellows. if the doctor didn't have my arm in a splint i'd be right with you." "all right, scouts," assented jerry, "but go mighty easy." they were all good swimmers, and with hardly a ripple they propelled the _skyrocket_ slowly but steadily toward the shore of lost island. as they drew near they saw that they had spectators on both sides, for awaiting them was the girl phil and jerry had seen not so long before, but under different circumstances. now she waved her hand encouragingly. "oh, liz-z-i-e!" shouted phil, "where's the meat-axe?" for answer she caught up a pebble and sent it skimming in his direction, so close that phil felt no shame in ducking, even if it did bring a great shout of laughter from his companions. but it was evident that "lizzie" or elizabeth billings, as they soon came to call her, bore no ill will as she came down to the water's edge and awaited their coming. but the boys had no intention of making a landing so long as she was there, and jerry was turning over in his mind just how to ask her to withdraw, when she apparently came to the conclusion that her presence was neither needed nor desired. at any rate, she left the beach abruptly and disappeared along the island path, only stopping to send a hearty peal of laughter in their direction. "next time across i guess well wear our clothes," snickered budge. "the young lady isn't used to welcoming savages to her lonely isle." "try a little of your savage strength on that rod you're leaning on; nobody suggested that this affair was a lawn party," phil reminded him. "come on, fellows, let's get the old _skyrocket_ up out of the damp." after some maneuvering they decided to unload from the water, as the beach shelved gradually. within five minutes they were ready to make for the other shore, being compelled to swim the boats back again, as no one had remembered to throw in the oars. this time their load was hardly worth calling one so far as weight was concerned, and four of the boys piled in, to row the boats across, nearly capsizing the whole arrangement in their efforts to outspeed each other. this time they were fully dressed. one of the boys brought the two boats back, and now all the party crossed over, with the exception of poor budge, who again was the one slated to stay behind and guard camp. perhaps his disappointment was only half genuine, however, as he was none too keen about the heavy job of freighting the wreckage to the center of lost island. tod was awaiting them when the last boatload beached on the island. it was easy to see that he had been greatly worried over the nonappearance of his father, and the bandages in which mr. fulton was literally swathed were not calculated to set his mind at ease. but mr. fulton's laughing version of the "accident," as he called it, soon relieved tod's fears. they made short work of the trip to the long, low shed phil and jerry had seen on their exploration of the island, and which they now learned was a "hangar," a place specially fitted for taking care of the aeroplane. when the big sliding door was thrown open the boys saw that inside was a complete machine shop, with lathes, benches, drills and punches, the whole being operated by power from the gasoline engine in the corner. "the first thing to do," announced mr. fulton, "is to understand just what we're driving at. so i'll explain, as briefly as possible, just what this contraption of mine is. it's simply a device that enables me to reverse the propellers instantly at high speed. but that isn't all. the same lever throws in another set of propellers--lifters, we call them--just above where the pilot sits. they act as a kind of counterbalance. now these planes, or wings, act in the same manner as the surfaces of a box kite, and aside from this device of mine, which has some details you won't need to know about, and a slight improvement i've made in the motor itself, the _skyrocket_ isn't any different from the ordinary biplane, which you all know about, of course." "of course we don't," blurted jerry. "of course we do," exclaimed phil. "there isn't one of the flying eagles who hasn't made half a dozen model flying machines, and barney here won a prize with a glider he made last spring in the manual training department of the high school. but we've all studied up about aeroplanes--that's why we call ourselves the _flying_ eagles." "another reason," chuckled mr. fulton, "why there ought to be a bunch of boy scouts in watertown. how about it, jerry?" "leave it to us. we'll challenge you eagles to a tournament next summer, and you'd better brush up your scouting if you don't want to come off second best. is that a go, tod?" "that's two go's--one for each of us." "well," suggested mr. fulton, "those of you who don't know the first principles of flying go into the second squad. you go to the office--that's the railed off space yonder--where you'll find plenty of books for your instruction. as soon as i get gang number one properly started i'll come back and give you a course of sprouts." jerry and dave and frank went to the "office," from where they heard mr. fulton putting tod in charge of one group, while he took the rest under his personal direction. "first off," he advised, "we'll take the _skyrocket_ all apart. all the broken or strained parts we'll throw over here in this box. anything that's too big we'll pile neatly on the floor. i want to know as soon as possible just what i'll have to get from the city. i can call on the blacksmith shop at watertown for some of the hardest welding, and job western did most of the carpentering in the first place, so i know where to go for my trusses and girders. examine every bolt and nut--nothing is to be used that shows the slightest strain or defect. "phil, you and i will tackle the motor. if she isn't smashed, half the battle's won." jerry sat back in the corner awhile, trying his best to get something definite out of the great array of books he found on a low shelf. looking up and seeing mr. fulton's eyes on him, a twinkle in their depths, he threw down the latest collection of algebraic formulas and walked over. "i guess i know enough about aeroplanes to unscrew nuts and nip wires. you can explain the theory of it to us after working hours." so, with monkey wrench, pliers, hammers and screwdriver, he set about making himself as busy as any of the others--and as greasy. dark came on them before they had made enough headway to be noticeable. the boys were glad to see the shadows creeping along, for, truth to tell, they were all thoroughly tired and not a little hungry. not a bite had any of them eaten since breakfast. "hope budge has taken it upon himself to hash together a few eats," sighed phil. "i feel hungry enough to tackle my boots." "eats?" exclaimed mr. fulton in surprise. "you don't mean to tell me that you're hungry?" "oh, no, not hungry. just plain starved," clamored the whole outfit. "good. one of you go over and get your guard, and we'll see what those mysterious signals mean that miss elizabeth has been making this past half hour. she told me she'd cook us a dinner--if we could stand domestic science grub. this is the first time she ever kept real house. let's wash up." the supper that elizabeth brought, smoking hot, to the long, board-made table the boys quickly set up in the hangar, did not smack very much of inexperience. even budge declared it was well worth the trip across the river. the boys were inclined to linger over the meal, and dave started in to tell a long story about a hunting trip in which he and his uncle had been the heroes of a bear adventure, but mr. fulton stopped him, even if the yawns of his listeners had not warned him to cut the tale short. "we're in for some good hard licks, men," said mr. fulton, "and it's going to mean early to bed and early to rise. that is," he amended, "if you want to go through with it." "we'll stick to the bitter end," they cried. "what's the program?" "two weeks of the hardest kind of work. breakfast at six; work at six-thirty, till twelve; half hour for lunch; work till seven; dinner; bed. that may not sound like much fun--it isn't." "suits us," declared phil for the rest. "do we get a front seat at the circus when the man puts his head in the lion's mouth--and a ride on the elephant?" he joked, pointing at the dismembered _skyrocket_. "i'll give you something better than that, just leave it to me," promised mr. fulton. "where you going to turn in?" "we go over to camp. you'll blow the factory whistle when it's time to get up, won't you?" "no," teased elizabeth, coming in just then, "i'll drop a couple o' nice smooth pebbles into camp as a gentle reminder." it was a jolly party that crowded into the two boats and sang and shouted their way across plum run some ten minutes later, but within the half-hour the night was still, for tired muscles could not long resist the call of sleep. but bright and early next morning they were all astir long before the hour of six and the promised pebbles. a swim in plum bun put them in good trim for a hearty breakfast, and that in turn put them in shape for a hard day's work. and a hard day it turned out to be, for mr. fulton parceled out the work and kept everyone on the jump. jerry and tod were put at the motor, which had refused to respond to its owner's coaxing. they twisted, tightened, adjusted, tested, till their fingers were cramped and eyes and backs ached. lunch gave a most welcome rest, but the half hour was all too short. every one of them welcomed mr. fulton's decision when he said: "we've got along so nicely that i think i will call this a six-o'clock day. wash up, everybody, and let's see what elizabeth has for us." chapter xv a wild night that was merely the first of a whole week of days that seemed amazingly alike. mr. fulton tried to make the work as interesting as possible by letting them change off jobs as often as he could. but even then there was little that under ordinary circumstances would interest a regular out-of-doors boy. what helped was that the circumstances were not ordinary. it was all a big game to them--a fight against odds. perhaps at times the screwing of greasy nuts on greasier bolts did not look much like a game, nor did the tedious pushing of a plane or twisting a brace and bit look like a fight, but every one of the boys sensed the tense something that was back of all mr. fulton's cheery hustle. they knew that his arm and shoulder hurt fearfully at times, but never a complaint did they hear from him, although he was all sympathy over the blood-blisters and cut hands of their own mishaps. but the second week made up for any lack of excitement that the boys had felt. the week was up wednesday night. on thursday morning mr. fulton met them with a white face that somehow showed the light of battle. "guess you'd better arrange, boss jerry, to leave a couple of your scouts on guard here nights," was all he said, but the boys felt that something disturbing had happened the night before. they questioned elizabeth when she brought their lunch, which they ate from benches and boxes to save time, but she would give them no satisfaction. tod seemed to know something, but he too was strangely mum. jerry decided to remain over that night himself, and phil, who had dropped a steel wrench across his toes and so had to remain for medical attention anyway, offered to share the watch with him. after mr. fulton had left them at about ten o'clock, they talked for awhile together, but finally they both began to yawn. "what'll it be?" asked phil. "two hours at a stretch, turn and turn about?" "suits me," said jerry. "ill take the first trick." phil's snoring something like fifty-nine seconds later was sufficient answer. all was still, and jerry set about to await midnight, when he could hope for a brief snooze. after a while the silence began to wear on his nerves and in every night noise he fancied he heard steps. he sat still and watchful, hardly breathing at times, his finger poised above a push button that would ring a bell where mr. fulton lay stretched out on a pallet on the floor of the tiny cabin. but midnight came and nothing had happened. he roused phil and then hunted himself out a soft spot in which to curl up. but he had grown so used to listening that now he found he could not stop. he tried counting, only it was fish he was catching instead of sheep going through the gap in the hedge. it was no use. at last he got up and stretched himself. "guess i'll take a turn around in the cool air; i can't seem to sleep." "gee," grumbled phil, "and here _i_ can't seem to stay awake. just as well have let me slumber on in peace." "well, don't slumber while i'm gone, sleepyhead." jerry walked across the open ground and after an undecided halt, broke through the bushes, heavy now with dew, and made for the shore. he stood for a long time on the bank, looking across to where the scout camp lay quiet in the darkness, and then turned and was about to go back to phil. but he paused; a steady creaking sound had broken the night. it was drawing slowly nearer. it was a rowboat. "great conspirators, they are!" sniffed jerry. "they might at least grease their oars." he heard the mumble of low voices, the _sush_ of a boat keel on the sand. reaching down, he caught up a big handful of pebbles; with a hard overhand swing he let them fly. he heard a muttered "ouch!" and then, after a moment's silence, once more the _creak-crook_ of oars. "batter out" chuckled jerry to himself as he scurried back to the hangar. after that he slept. the boys were all excitement when he told his story next morning, but that was nothing to compare with the exclamation that arose that same evening when they returned to camp to find that dave, who had been left in charge, had disappeared, and that the place had been rifled and then torn all to pieces. poor dave was found not far off, tied to a tree. his story was somewhat lacking in detail. he had sat dozing over a book on aeronautics, when suddenly an earthquake came up and hit him over the head. that was all he knew till he woke up tied securely to a tree. "that settles it," declared phil. "we ought to have done it in the first place, but the boss didn't think it was worth while." "what's that?" demanded jerry, a bit sharply. "well, what's the idea of our coming over here every night to sleep, when there's oodles of room there on lost island, where we're needed? huh?" "what's that 'huh'? boy scout for sir?" cried jerry hotly. phil jumped to his feet, but to the surprise of jerry, who had put up his fists, the scout leader brought his heels together with a click and his right hand went to the salute. "i stand convicted," he said simply. "you're the boss of this expedition. what's orders?" "orders are to break camp--it's already pretty well broken--and take ship for lost island. patrol leader fulton will take charge of the job while boss ring goes off and kicks himself quietly but firmly." they all laughed and good feeling was restored. the scouts made short work of getting their traps together, even in the dark, and it was not many minutes before the first load was on the way to lost island. jerry, phil and dave followed silently afterwards in the _big four_ with the rest of the dunnage. "you think _they_ did it?" asked dave of no one in particular. no one asked who _they_ were, nor did anyone answer, but each knew what the others were thinking. mr. fulton showed no surprise when told of their decision to camp henceforth on the island. "good idea," was his only comment. they were not disturbed that night, and the next day passed without incident, save that budge had the bad luck to break a truss he had been all day in making. "good!" said mr. fulton. "that wood might have caused a serious accident if it had got into the _skyrocket_." budge, knowing his awkwardness and not the timber was to blame, felt grateful that he had been spared the reproof that would have been natural. they had been making good progress, in spite of their greenness; next day mr. fulton was planning to stretch the silk over the planes; it had already been given a preliminary coat of a kind of flexible varnish which was also a part of mr. fulton's invention. the carpenter had done his part handsomely. the launch had come down the day before with all of the heavier framework and trusses. a few rods were still to come from the blacksmith, and the rear elevator control was still awaited, but enough of the material had been mended and put in place to make the aeroplane look less like a wreck. jerry and mr. fulton had finally managed to master the secret of the motor; that is, they finally made it run as smoothly as a top, but neither one was ever able to tell why it had not done so from the start. oiled and polished, it stood on the bench till a final brace should be forthcoming. camp had been pitched on the river side of the open ground, close beside the path. the second night of their new location mr. fulton and elizabeth came over, dick guarding the _skyrocket_ and tod remaining at the cabin to look after poor billings, who, thanks to the doctor's daily visits and his daughter's patient nursing, was growing steadily stronger. elizabeth brought along a guitar, which she played daintily, singing the choruses of all the popular songs the boys could ask for by name. after a little bashful hesitation, dave chimed in, while the rest of the boys lay back and listened in undisguised delight. into this peaceful scene burst tod, frightened out of his wits. it was a full minute before he finally managed to gasp: "they've come--they've been here! i didn't see them!" "what in the world do you mean?" cried mr. fulton, shaking the excited boy with his left hand. "if you didn't see them, how do you----" "i didn't. but it's gone--the motor's gone.----" "what!" yelled the whole crew at once. "dick and i sat outside the doorway, listening to you folks having a good time, and i went in to see what time it was--and there was the hole in the side of the hang--hang--the shed, and the motor had disappeared. at least that was all we noticed was gone." the last of this was delivered on the run, for all had set out for the machine shop, mr. fulton having promptly vetoed phil's plan to put a circle of scouts around the shore. sure enough, a big gap showed in the side of the hangar, where two boards had been pried loose. "lucky you were outside," grunted phil disgustedly, "or they'd have pulled the whole place down over your head." "we've got to work fast," urged mr. fulton. "if they get away with the motor the stuff's all off. they're desperate men--i don't want any of you trying to tackle them. scout ahead, and when you sight them, this is the signal:" he whistled the three short notes of the whippoor-will's call. "i've got my automatic, and i guess i can take care of them." as they hurried out into the night they spread out, working toward the east side of the island. jerry found himself next to phil, and after a few yards he moved over closer to the scout leader. "i say, phil," he called guardedly; "you ready to listen to the wildest kind of a notion?" "shoot," came the answer. "i don't believe our visitors came on the island for that motor at all. what good would it do them?" "it'd stop our launching the _skyrocket_, for one thing." "but there are lots of lighter things that would do that. i don't trust those two ruffians--or their boss, either." "well, who does?" "that's not the point. mr. fulton figures that they merely want to keep those others from buying his idea, so that when the first option expires, _they_ can. but if they could steal the plans in the meanwhile--get me?" "i get you. then you think that stealing the motor was just a blind, and that they are----" "getting us out of the road so they can take their time going through the workshop. if we're wrong, there's plenty of scouts out trailing them--it'd be too late anyway, as it's only a few hundred feet to where they would have left their boat. what say we sneak back, see if there's a gun at the cabin, and take them by surprise when they start burglarizing the hangar?" phil turned about by way of answer, and stealthily they approached the cabin. a light showed dim in the invalid's room, and through the curtained window they could see elizabeth's long braids bent over a book. she merely looked up when they stopped at the window, and at once came out the back door to where they stood. "is there a gun in the house?" questioned phil. "a thirty-two colts," she replied. "want it?" "quick as we can have it. _they_ are on the island." but she did not wait to hear the rest of his explanation. in a jiffy she had brought them an ugly looking revolver. "be careful," she said as she handed it to phil; "it shoots when you pull the trigger." the boys stole across the narrow space between the cabin and the hangar, and flattened themselves against the log walls as they wound their way toward the little "night door" near the other end. as they passed the big sliding doors they paused an instant and pressed their ears close against the planks, but all was still. both had an instant of disappointment, for they were counting strongly on being able to crow over the rest. but when they came to the crack where the two doors came together, and looked within, their spirits jumped up till they hardly knew whether they were pleased or frightened. for just an instant a flash lamp had lighted up the darkness! not quite so cautiously now, and a good deal faster, they made their way to the little door, guided by their sense of feeling, for the night was black as the pitch in the old saying. jerry turned the catch firmly but slowly, and the door swung open without a creak. they stepped inside. they were now in a walled off ante-room used for small supplies. it opened into the main workshop by means of a narrow doorway. standing in the middle of the tiny room they had a full view of the whole place. like two monstrous fireflies a pair of dark figures darted about, ransacking mr. fulton's desk, tearing open the lockers and cupboards, searching out every likely nook and cranny where papers might be hid, their flashlights throwing dazzling light on each object of their suspicion. the two boys realized suddenly that the attention of the two had been focused in their direction, and jerry jumped back behind the shelter of the door-edge just in time to escape the blinding rays of the flashlights. phil evidently realized that their time of grace was over and there was nothing to be gained in further delay. with raised pistol he stepped out into the light. "hands up!" he ordered gruffly. "your little game is ended for to-night." but he had miscalculated somewhat. with startling suddenness darkness closed in about them, there was a quick rush across the littered floor, a thud as a heavy body dashed against the shed wall and crashed through the inch boards. phil's gun roared out twice. as the two boys hastened to the gap in the wall they could hear the crash of the pair as they tore madly through the brush. then all was still again. but not for long. panting from the run, mr. fulton and three of the scouts came chasing like mad through the darkness. "what's happened?" he cried when he saw it was jerry and phil. he listened as patiently as possible to their disconnected story, laughing grimly at the end. "well, they'll swim it to shore, because we found their boat, and we sunk it under about a ton of stones." "yes, but----" began jerry, a premonition of further disaster in his mind and on the tip of his tongue, when from the east shore of lost island came wild cries of rage and chagrin. "just what i thought!" exclaimed jerry, by way of finishing out his sentence. "what's that?" demanded mr. fulton and phil in a breath. but jerry did not answer. there was no need. down the path came an excited group, shouting: "somebody's made off with the _big four!_" chapter xvi tricked again! nothing else happened that night, but the boys had already had enough excitement to keep them awake long past their usual time for turning in. some of them, indeed, were for starting out in pursuit of the _big four_, but mr. fulton promptly squelched the plan. there was little hope of finding the boat in the dense darkness. next morning, before breakfast, sid walmaly and dave were sent out on a scouting expedition, but they were not gone long. the _big four_ had been found, barely half a mile down, stranded on a sand-bar. a jagged hole in the side showed where the kidnappers had tried to scuttle the craft. after this event, the boys settled to their work in high spirits, undeterred by the fact that the motor was still missing, although mr. fulton felt sure it could not have been taken from the island. phil ventured to advance a theory, which the boys were inclined to scout but which mr. fulton finally decided was at least worth the time and effort it would take to try it out. the men had had no time to carry the motor far, argued phil. they had not gone to their boat, else they could hardly have made their way back to the hangar. they might of course have picked it up after they had been frightened away, but there had been hardly time for that. they had undoubtedly hidden it in the first place. the easiest place to hide the thing was in the river, and the closest trail to the river hit the extreme north end, where there was a steep-sided bay. "who's the best swimmer in the crowd?" asked mr. fulton. "i don't dare take very many away from the job, but we've got to have the motor." "jerry ring's the best swimmer and diver in watertown," announced dave without hesitation. mr. fulton turned inquiringly to the boy scouts, but no one answered his questioning look until phil at last spoke up quietly: "i'll go along if you need another one." "i do. you two take the scout boat and bring her around the point. i'll go through the woods--be there in half an hour or so, when i get things running smoothly here. be careful you don't find the gas-eater before i get there," he jested. but it was more than half an hour before mr. fulton came upon the two boys, stripped to their b-v-d's and at that instant resting on the bank. he came up just in time to hear jerry say: "i used to think i could dive! where'd you get onto it?" "just scout stuff," laughed phil, modestly. "every scout in the patrol's got swimming and diving honors." "good!" broke in mr. fulton. "dive me up that motor and i'll get you a special honor as a substitute submarine." "we've worked down from the point, scraping bottom for twenty feet out--that's about as far as they could heave it, we figured. we've just got to the place where i'd have dived first-off if i had only one chance at it. here goes for that leather medal," as phil rose and poised himself for the plunge. it was as pretty a dive as one could want to see. he split the water with a clean slash, with hardly a bubble. a minute, another, and another passed, the two on shore watching the surface expectantly. they began to grow worried. "he's been beating me right along" confessed jerry. "i can't come within a full minute of his ordinary dives. this one is a pippin--there he blows!" spouting like a young whale, phil broke the water and came ashore in long reaching strokes. "i tried my best!" he gasped as he pushed back his hair and rubbed the water from his eyes. "but i couldn't make it!" "better luck next time," encouraged mr. fulton. "if you don't find her in two more dives like that, why she isn't in plum run, that's all!" "find her? i was talking about _lifting_ her. guess we'll have to get a rope on her--she's pretty well down in the mud." "hurray!" shouted jerry, giving his chum a sounding smack on the wet back. "man the lifeboats! i chucked a rope in the bow of the boat." mr. fulton stood on the bank to mark the line, while the boys pushed the boat out to where phil had come up, some twenty feet from shore. jerry slipped over the side, one end of the rope in his hand. he did not remain long below. clambering in at the stern, he shouted: "hoist away--she's hooked!" and there was the motor, clogged with mud, to be sure, but undamaged. mr. fulton stepped into the boat and they rowed quickly back to the "dock." while the two boys put on their clothes over their wet underwear, he hurried back to the workshop to see how things were going. a few minutes later they followed with the motor. they felt, after this fortunate end of the adventure, that mr. fulton ought once more to be his own cheery self, but a look of gloom seemed to have settled down over his face, and his face looked haggard except when he was talking to one of the boys. jerry finally decided to try to cheer him up. "luck was sure breaking our way this morning, wasn't it?" he exclaimed cheerfully as the man came up to where jerry sat, removing the mud from their prize. "fine--fine," agreed mr. fulton, but without spirit. "what's the trouble?" demanded jerry, sympathetically. "anything else gone wrong?" "no--oh, no." "you look like the ghost of mike clancy's goat. remember how you always used to be telling tod and me to grin hardest when we were getting licked worst?" "i sure ought to grin now, then." "we're not licked--not by a long shot!" "yes we are--by about twenty-four hours. while you were gone i got word from the blacksmith. he says he can't possibly have that propeller shaft we found was snapped, welded before to-morrow afternoon late. not if we're to have the other things he promised. he's lost his helper--quit him cold." "no!" exclaimed jerry, his heart sinking at least two feet. then, with sudden suspicion, "do you suppose----" "i _know_ it," interrupted mr. fulton. "our two friends are working every scheme they know. blocking our blacksmithing was one of their easiest weapons. i'm only surprised they didn't do it before." "what can we do?" "submit gracefully. but i just can't face those two doubters. first they were so enthusiastic and then so suspicious, that i can't be satisfied unless i convince them. but the stuff's all off--and i told lewis and harris to come out to-morrow afternoon at three-thirty to see the _skyrocket_ make good all my claims!" "can't you beg off and get a little more time?" "they'd be willing enough, i suppose. they don't seem to be in the slightest hurry. but there's that second option that begins operations after to-morrow. no, there's no loophole. all we can do is just peg ahead, and if the blacksmith comes through sooner than he expects, we may have a bare chance. i just sent tod in to lend a hand." the blacksmith did do better than his word, for tod came back late in the afternoon bearing the mended shaft and two smaller parts that were urgently needed. it took all the rest of that afternoon to lay the shaft in its ball-bearings and true it up. the propeller was still to be attached, but mr. fulton declared he would take no chances with that or with the final adjustments in the half light of the growing dusk. the boys were glad to knock off. they had been working at high tension for a long while now and were beginning to feel the strain. they were all frankly sleepy, too, after the excitement of the night before. as a final precaution against a repetition of the surprise attack they all slept in the hangar, finding the hard floor an unwelcome change from their leafy beds in camp. but the night passed quietly. with daybreak they were all astir, but the time before breakfast was spent in an invigorating swim in the plum. elizabeth had done herself proud in the way of pancakes this last morning, and the boys did full justice. it was almost eight o'clock before anyone returned to the hangar with any intention of working. after barely half an hour there, chiefly spent in polishing and tightening up nuts and draw-buckles, mr. fulton drove them all outdoors. "chase off and play," he insisted. "tod and i will give her the finishing touches; then you can all come back and help us push her out into the sunlight for the final inspection." but elizabeth called them before mr. fulton was ready for their services. heaping platters of beautifully browned perch testified both to her skill and that of the boys. "lunch time already?" exclaimed mr. fulton in surprise. "where's the morning gone to?" but he showed that if he hadn't noted the passage of time, his stomach had. as he watched the brown pile diminish under mr. fulton's vigorous attack, phil threatened to go back to the river and start fishing again. "you oughtn't to be eating fish," he joked. "birds are more your style. better let me go out and shoot you a duck--or a sparrow; they're more in season." but mr. fulton was at last satisfied, as were all the boys. he sauntered back at once to the hangar. "guess you chaps can give me a shoulder now, and we'll take her out to daylight. after that you keep out of the way till the show starts--about four o'clock. all but two of you, that is. there's a bearing to grind on the lathe, and a couple of sets of threads to recut." tod could not have been driven away, so jerry volunteered to be the other helper. the whole troop made easy work of running out the _skyrocket_. after standing about admiringly a while, they all scattered, some of them, jerry learned from their conversation, to try to teach elizabeth how to catch bass. jerry grinned to himself at this; he had heard tod tell of the exploits of this slip of a girl, and no boy in camp could do more with a four-ounce bass rod than she could. tod and jerry went at once at their grinding, and by two o'clock all was in readiness. every rod and strut and bolt and screw was in place, tight as a drum. the nickel and brass of the bearings flashed in the sun; the _skyrocket_ looked fit as a fiddle. there was still a little gasoline in the gallon can that they had been using for testing the motor, and tod let it gurgle into the gasoline tank that curved back on the framework just above the pilot's seat. "try her out, dad," he urged. "i'll try the motor," agreed mr. fulton, "but i'm not going up until there's somebody around to watch her go through her paces. i've got my shoulder out of splints to-day, but i don't dare use it when there's any danger of strain. think you're going to have the nerve to go up with me, son?" jerry opened his eyes wide. this was the first he had heard of any such plan as _that_. "think i'm going to let you go up alone, with a twisted wing that might give out?" demanded tod scornfully. "huh! i'll take her up alone if you'll let me." "i'll let you fill her up with gas, if you're so ambitious as all that. i see an automobile throwing up the dust on the last hill of the town road. i expect it's our friends. i'll let one of the boys row me across to meet them. ask billings, if you can't find the wrench to unscrew the cap of the gasoline reservoir." billings proved to be sound asleep, napping off the effects of over-indulgence in browned perch, so the boys decided to await the return of mr. fulton, a search of the workshop having failed to reveal the wrench, and none of the stillsons being big enough to take the big nut that capped the fifty-gallon tank sunk in the ground on the shady north side of the hangar. so they sat down beside it and waited for mr. fulton to come back with his visitors. they finally appeared, lewis and harris standing about and listening in unenthusiastic silence as mr. fulton glowingly explained the whyness of the various devices and improvements that made the _skyrocket_ a real invention. they did not even venture an occasional question, although it was easy to see that they were impressed. "what are they made of? wood?" exclaimed jerry in fierce impatience. "do you know--if it wasn't that we've simply got to beat out those other fellows, i'd almost like to see these two sleepies get left. i don't like them a little bit!" "huh! ask me if i do. they give me the willies. never did like them, and ever since they acted so nasty about that accident i just plumb hate 'em. you'd think dad was trying to sandbag them or something like that. just listen to them grouching around. i'd hate to be a woman and married to one of them and have dinner late." jerry had seated himself on the top of the reservoir, the cap between his legs. he caught hold of it with his two hands. "it's too blamed bad your dad couldn't hitch up with uncle sam!" he exclaimed. "yes, and if you believe what the papers say, we're going to need it, too. we might be mixed up in the big war any day." "well, i expect we'd better not sit here gassing any longer. tod, chase over and ask your dad where that wrench is--unless you've got a notion i can twist this thing off with my hands." he gave a playful tug as if to carry out his boast. "say!" he cried, "what do you know about this!" "about what?" asked tod lazily, a dozen feet away on the way to his father. "this," answered jerry, giving the big cap a twirl with his forefinger. "some careful of your gasoline you people are!" the cap was loose. "something funny about that," declared tod, coming back. "i saw billings screw that on last time myself--with the wrench." there _was_ something decidedly funny about it, as it turned out. at tod's alarmed call mr. fulton came on the run. "it's been tampered with," was his immediate decision. "screw on the pump, boys, and force up a gallon or so, if there isn't water in that gas we're the luckiest folks alive. i might have known those crooks had a final shot in their locker!" "what's the idea?" asked mr. harris, with the first interest he had showed. "somebody's trying to block the game, that's what!" sputtered mr. fulton. "here, boys, take the canfull in and put it in the shop engine. if she can take it i guess we're worrying for nothing." for a moment or so it looked as if that were the case; the engine chugged away in its usual steady manner. but once the gasoline was gone that the boys had been unable to empty out of its tank, it began to kick a little. within another minute it had stopped dead. "show's over," announced mr. fulton grimly. "it's way after three o'clock now, and we can't hope to get a new supply from town this side of dark. if we just hadn't sent your auto back!" "you mean to tell us that you cannot go up--that there will be no flight!" cried mr. lewis, making up for all his previous lack of excitement in one burst of protest. "but, man--it's the last day of the option." "it's worse than that," countered mr. fulton. "it's the day before the beginning of a new option, held by the people who watered that gas--and at least a dozen other sneaking tricks." "but you told us that you would--why, you guaranteed us a trial flight." "i said you didn't have to buy till you'd seen it work, yes. i'm in your hands, gentlemen. after midnight to-night i'm in other hands--and you're going to lose the chance of your lifetime to secure for your government something that may prove the deciding factor in that terrific war you're carrying on over there. i'm sure you don't doubt my good faith." "faith! it's performances we want." "give me gas and i'll give you a demonstration that can't help but convince you. i can't use my motor on water. i was willing to risk my neck--and my boy's--by going up and trying this contraption with my left hand--but i can't accomplish the impossible." "but surely you don't expect us to buy a pig in a poke----" "this is no pig--it's a hawk. will you do this? will you buy the machine and the idea on approval? i'm pledged. if it isn't sold by night to you, to-morrow those other people will come with cash in hand----" "harris, you know," drawled mr. lewis, "i half believe the fellow's trying to flimflam us, you know. how do we know?" "how do you know!" mr. fulton's eyes flashed fire. "i'll have you know i'm a man of honor." "sure--sure," agreed mr. harris conciliatingly. "but that's not the idea, old chap. we don't buy this for ourselves, you understand. we're merely agents, and responsible to our chief. what'd we say if we came back with a bag of pot metal for our money?" "what will you say to your conscience when your enemy drops destruction onto your brave countrymen in the trenches from the fulton aeroplane? that's what you'd better be asking yourselves." "but we've got to be cautious." "cautious! if you saw the goose that laid the golden egg getting off the nest, you'd hold the egg up to a candle to see if it was fresh!" "well, now, mr. fulton----" began mr. harris, when he was interrupted by jerry, who had been holding himself in as long as was humanly possible. "don't let's waste any more time talking, mr. fulton. tod and i have got a scheme that will pull us out on top yet--even if it does mean helping these doubters against their will!" chapter xvii the big play "look here, mr. fulton," began jerry, almost stammering in his eagerness. "it wouldn't be any trick at all to get over to the interurban tracks in time to catch the four o'clock northbound. that gets to watertown at four twenty-five--say half-past. we ought to be able to get the gas and rout out a machine to haul it in inside another half hour. that's five o'clock. then an hour certainly would see us back here, with a good hour and more of daylight left." "i've gone over all that in my mind a dozen times. but i've also spent a little time figuring what these men would be doing in the meanwhile. there's just one place in watertown that keeps any quantity of gasoline--the rest buy of him. and he'd die of fright if he should be caught with more than a hundred gallons at one time." "but we don't need more than five!" exploded tod. "sure, son, sure. but suppose somebody just ahead of you made it his business to buy the hundred--how about that?" "but there's a chance," objected jerry, returning to the attack. "we might be able to get away without their seeing us." "don't worry; they're watching every move we make." "then i've got another scheme. see if you can pick it full of holes too." there was more than a touch of impatience in jerry's voice. "they're watching this side, that's sure; and they know we're bound to figure on either watertown or chester. we'll fool them. i'll swim across to the other side, reach a telephone, get my dad, who's at corliss these days on business. there's a standard oil tank at corliss. dad'll start the gas out inside of twenty minutes----" "corliss is a good two hours' trip by auto, my boy. it would take at least half an hour to get the message through, and another to get the gas here from the road. that means at least seven o'clock, and it would be dark before we were ready to go up." "all right," agreed jerry, refusing to give up. "suppose it does get dark: there's such a thing as flying by night, isn't there? all we've got to do is to build a dozen flaring bonfires to see by----" "now you're talking!" exclaimed mr. fulton with sudden enthusiasm. "you've hit it. not brush--that would smoke us out. but there are ten or a dozen open air torches here like those they use at street shows, and there's not enough water in the gasoline to hurt it for that purpose. moreover, we can switch our engine onto that dynamo in the shop, and we'll string incandescent lights all through the trees; we've got plenty of them. there's at least a mile of bare copper wire about the place--what you two standing with your mouths wide open for? thought you were going to get that gas! where in thunder are all those boys?" "here they come--tired of waiting out there in the sun, i guess. so long, dad; i'm going with jerry." "you are _not_. you're going to be chief electrician. if jerry can't put through his part of the job alone he doesn't deserve credit for having thought of the whole scheme." the first part of jerry's task proved easy enough. it took him well over the half hour mr. fulton had predicted, to find a farmhouse with a telephone, and central seemed an unusually long time in ringing through to the office jerry's father had been making his headquarters for the past weeks. then it developed that mr. ring was out at a conference of business men. jerry took the telephone number the girl gave him, and repeated it to central, who again took her time in giving the connection. jerry was about ready to drop with nervousness before he finally heard his father's gruff voice at the other end of the line. the words simply tumbled over themselves as jerry told his story; fortunately, mr. ring was shrewd enough to guess the half that jerry jumbled in his eagerness. "where are you--so i can call you back?" was mr. ring's only reply. fifteen minutes later the telephone rang. jerry answered, to hear: "ten gallons of gasoline, double strained, left here five minutes ago on a fast delivery truck. it ought to reach the road opposite lost island inside of two hours. you be there to tell them what to do. good luck, jerry--i'm going back to that conference. this skylark may cost me a five hundred dollar profit." "it isn't a skylark--it's a sky_rocket_, and mr. fulton will pay you double over!" but it was into a dead transmitter he shouted it, for mr. ring had not waited. jerry did not wait long either, but raced across fields and through woods to the river road. he found a shady spot, which he established as his headquarters, but he was too restless to wait there long. they seemed a mighty long two hours. the sun sank lower and lower; jerry heard a bell ringing far off, calling the farm hands to supper--he was getting hungry himself. shadows began to darken, the clouds flared up in a sudden crimson, first low down on the horizon, then high up in the sky. the sun dropped out of sight behind the trees. away down the road sounded a faint drumming noise that grew nearer and louder until around the bend whirred a dust-raising black monster that came to a halt a few feet away from the boy who had sprung out, shouting and waving his arms. "you waiting for gasoline?" a grouchy voice demanded. "are you mr. ring?" "i sure am!" "well, come on back here and help h'ist it out. we're in a hurry to get back to town--why it's only a kid!" as jerry came up. "who's going to help you handle it? it's in two five-gallon cans." "i guess i can manage it all right. i've got some friends waiting down on the river bank." "all right; it's your funeral. there you are, sealed, signed and delivered." the motor roared out, then settled to a steady hum; the man backed and turned and soon was swallowed up in the dust and the growing dark. jerry braced his shoulders for the stiff carry to the plum, a five-gallon can in each hand. he was willing to stop now and then for a breathing spell, but at last he set the load down on the narrow fringe of sandy beach. cupping his hands about his mouth, he sent a lusty shout ringing across the water; he was too weary to swim it, and there did not seem to be much need for further concealment. there was an instant answer, showing that the boys had been awaiting his signal. the splash of oars told him that the boat was on the way, and he felt suddenly glad that he could now think of a few minutes' rest. it proved to be dave and tod and phil in the scout boat. they made quick work of loading in the two cans, and then they all piled in, dave and tod at the oars. they were perhaps halfway across when jerry asked, anxiously, it seemed: "can't you get any more speed out of her, fellows?" "what's eating you? it's as dark now as it's going to get," answered dave, at the same time letting his oars float idly up against the side of the boat. "i'm worried, that's why," exclaimed jerry, slipping over and pushing dave out of his seat. "do you hear anything?" they all listened, tod holding his oars out of the water. sure enough, a purring, deeply muffled sound came faintly across the water. it was unmistakably a motorboat. "some camper," suggested dave. "it sounds more like--trouble," declared phil, a significant accent on the word. "the enemy, i bet, and trying to cut us off." "well, we've got a big start on them. they're a long way off" again dave volunteered. "you mean you're a long way off. they've got her tuned down--she isn't over two hundred yards away and coming like blue blazes. they mean mischief--they aren't showing a single light. what's our plan?" "keep cool," advised jerry. "they'll probably try to bump us. we'll row along easy-like, with a big burst of speed at the last second. before they can turn and come at us again, we can make shore. steady now!" the drone of the motor was almost upon them. the dusk lay heavy over the water; they could see nothing. louder and louder sounded the explosions, but now they had slowed up. a dim shape showed through the gloom. "all set!" came the low command from jerry, just as the boat, muffler cut out, the engine at top speed, and volleying revolutions and deafening explosions, seemed to leap through the water. "down hard!" cried jerry, lunging with his oars. tod grunted as he put all his strength into the pull. the scout boat seemed to lift itself bodily out of the water as it plunged forward--only inches to spare as a slim hull slipped by the stern. "yah!" yelled phil, jumping to his feet and shaking his fist wildly. "you're beat!" the scout boat hit shore just then, and phil, caught off his guard, took a header and landed astride one of the gasoline cans. "i wonder if that was a torpedo," he grunted as he picked himself up. "no," chuckled tod. "just a reminder not to crow while your head is still on the block." the boys wasted no time in getting the gasoline out of the boat and up through the bushes, sending a lusty shout ahead of them to tell the waiting islanders that they were coming. "over on the far side of the clearing," directed tod, who was carrying one side of a can with jerry. "we hauled the _skyrocket_ over there as the ground is more level and free from stumps." they found the whole crew waiting about the airship, their eager faces lighted up by the flaring flames of one of the gasoline torches. "hooray for jerry, the gasoline scout!" they shouted as the boys dropped their loads at the first convenient spot. "bully for you!" exclaimed mr. fulton, coming over and clapping jerry on the shoulder. "have any trouble?" "you better guess we did," broke in dave. "a motorboat tried its best to run us down." mr. fulton looked grave as he listened to the tale of their adventure. as dave finished a spirited account of their narrow escape, the man turned to tod with: "guess you'd better look after filling the tank, son, while i chase over to the house and get my goggles and my harness," referring to a leather brace the doctor had brought him a few days before to use until his shoulder grew stronger. unfortunately, the thing was not properly made and it held the arm too stiffly, so mr. fulton used it only when he absolutely had to. the boys all wanted to have a hand in this final operation and consequently it took twice as long as was necessary to fill the tank. enough was spilled, as tod said, to run the _skyrocket_ ten miles. in the meanwhile, one of the boys took the small can and went the rounds and filled all the torches with gasoline, while another came close behind him and started them going. tod finally left the rest to finish the job of filling the _skyrocket_, and disappeared in the direction of the workshop. within five minutes the boys heard the steady chugging of "old faithful" as they had named the shop motor. an instant later the whole field was suddenly lighted up as the twenty incandescent lights flashed up brightly. "_some_ illumination!" cried jerry, delightedly, turning to mr. harris, who happened to be nearest him. "yes," agreed the man coldly, "but it's all on the ground." "sure. because there's nothing up in the air to see. wait till the old _skyrocket_ shoots up," and jerry walked over to where the boys were standing. "old grouch," he said to himself. "you'd think he didn't want to see us win out." tod came hurrying back from the hangar. "where's dad?" he asked. "hasn't got back yet." "that's funny. i saw him leave the cabin as i went in to start up the dynamo. he called something to me about hurrying so as not to give those fellows any time to think up new tricks. who's that over there with mr. harris?" "phil, i guess. your dad hasn't come out yet or we'd have seen him--it's light as day." "what's the cause of the delay now?" came from behind them. mr. lewis had approached the group unobserved. "waiting for my father," answered tod. "guess he's having a hard time with his harness. i'd have stopped for him only i thought he'd have come back ahead of me. i'll chase over now and see if he needs any help with his straps." tod ambled off across the torch-lighted open. it was a weird sight, that flaring line of torches, the paler gleam of the electric lights hung high in the trees, the animated faces of the excited boys, the two stolid men, and the adventurous looking _skyrocket_, its engines throbbing, the tiny searchlight ahead of the pilot's seat sending a fan-shaped road of white light into the trees. it was like a scene on the stage--just before the grand climax. tod furnished the climax for this scene. hardly had he disappeared within the door of the cabin, before he came running out again, shouting at the top of his voice: "fellows! quick!" there was a note in his cry that went through the boys like an electric shock. it was anger and fear and a dozen other emotions at once. they fairly flew across the hundred yards or so to the cabin, crowding in till the main room was filled. "what is it, tod?" cried phil, as his cousin flung open the door to the tiny lean-to bedroom. tod's face was pasty white and his eyes bulged out. "they've--_got_ dad! i'm afraid he's--killed!" "no!" exclaimed jerry, pushing past. but the first look made him believe the worst. on the floor, toppled over in the chair to which he had been bound, lay mr. fulton, his injured shoulder twisted way out of place, his distorted face the color of old ivory. gagged and tightly laced to the bed lay mr. billings, his features working in wildest rage. but mr. fulton was not dead. he came to under the deft handling of phil and his fellow scouts, but it was mr. billings who told the story of the attack. while mr. fulton had been struggling with the strap that held his shoulder-brace in place, two burly men had burst through the doorway and quickly overpowered him, handicapped as he was by his useless arm. they had bound him to the chair, and then, after gagging and tying billings, had calmly proceeded to ransack the room, one holding a pistol at fulton's head while the other searched. papers scattered about on the floor, wrecked furniture and broken boxes, testified to the thoroughness of the hunt. but they had found nothing until they had thought to go through the bed on which billings lay. under the mattress was a portfolio packed with blueprints and plans. that was when mr. fulton had fallen; he had tried to free himself from his bonds and get at the two, no matter how hopeless the fight. as mr. billings finished the story, mr. fulton opened his eyes weakly. "tod----" he gasped--"where's tod?" "here, dad," coming close beside him where he lay on a big pile of blankets. "look quick and see if they found the little flat book--you know." tod rummaged hastily through the disordered mess of drawings littered over the bed and floor. "not here," he confessed finally. the man gave a deep groan. "we're done for, then. it had the contract folded up in it. and it had the combination to the safe at the house, and there was the list of the specifications mr. billings made out for me when we packed away the first draft of the _skyrocket_." "what difference does that make, if they've already got the blueprints'?" asked jerry. "oh-h!" cried mr. fulton, despair in his voice, "don't you see? the aeroplane itself was made here; billings did all the work on it. but tod and i did all the experimental work at home. all the data concerning the invention is back there in the safe!" "and they're already halfway there in their motorboat!" groaned phil. but mr. fulton made no answer. his eyes were closed; he had fainted dead away. tod jumped up from where he had been kneeling beside his father. "look after him, phil," he directed briskly. "jerry, you come with me. those villains have got the contract and they will soon have dad's secret--it means that we're cleaned out. there's only one thing to do in a tight place like this, and you and i are going to do it--if you've got the nerve!" "i've got it," responded jerry quickly. "what is it?" "we're going after those crooks in the _skyrocket_!" chapter xviii a close finish the incidents of the next hour or so would be hard to picture from the standpoint of jerry's emotions. as they half ran over to where the _skyrocket_ stood ready, snorting like an impatient racehorse, his heart was filled with a kind of frightened determination. once he was strapped into his seat, his pulses stopped galloping so fast, but as tod began an endless fumbling with levers, plainly as nervous as his chum, jerry's nerve oozed out at his fingertips; he might have climbed out had it not been for the straps--and the two men, who now came forward and insisted that the boys give up their hair-brained plan. jerry would have been killed by inches rather than give in to them. a sudden terrifying lurch, a dizzy parting company with solid earth that almost made jerry part company with his stomach. he yelled, but it might easily have been through excitement rather than fear. he hoped the two and tod would think so. he dared not look down--all he could do was grip the rod before him with a death-defying clutch. faster and faster, higher and higher they mounted, the air whistling by them like mad. "can't you slow her down a little?" he yelled in tod's ear, but tod gave no answer. he could hardly have heard above the roar of the motor and the sickening whine of the propellers--not to intention a steady drumming of taut wires and tightly stretched silk. "can't you tune her down?" jerry yelled, louder this time, "and get her level?" "can't!" shouted tod. "i've forgotten which handle to pull, even if i knew which way to pull it!" he tried first one and then another, but although they lurched dangerously, first this way and then that, they kept mounting into the sky. finally there was but one chance left--tod cautiously drew the lever toward him, then with an "ah!" heard above all the noise, brought it all the way. the _skyrocket_ quivered, dropped to an even keel, and then turned her nose earthward. but tod was ready for that. halfway back he shoved, the lever and once more the _skyrocket_ rode level. they had left lost island far behind, but in which direction they could not be sure. a long streak of flame to the left told them that a railroad lay there, and it could be none other than the belt line that ran into watertown. through a rift in the clouds a cluster of stars showed briefly--the big dipper. "see!" shouted tod. "we're headed north, all right." they were going much slower now, and the noise was not so deafening; they could talk without splitting their throats. dimly they made out plum run directly beneath them, while a haze of lights indicated watertown, the goal. even as they watched it seemed to be drawing nearer. "were you scared?" asked tod. "stiff," confessed jerry. "you?" "should say. bet my hair's turned white. where'll we land?" "where can you?" "don't know. river, most likely. say, we're lucky we're alive. i thought i knew how to run it until we got off the ground. then i found i'd forgotten more than i ever learned." "did you ever run it before?" "with dad watching, yes. once, that is. but i've faked running it a hundred times there in the hangar. suppose we could come down in your back lot? it's level--and big enough, maybe." "we might hit a horse. dad's got daisy in there nights." "we'll have to chance it, i guess. but you hold on good and tight, because i'll probably pull the wrong strings at the last minute. where are we now?" "that's the mill yonder, i think. we want to swing west a little now. suppose _they_ are at the house by now?" "most likely. they had a good start. shall we get your dad?" "uhuh. and several others--with guns. better have old bignold." mr. bignold was the only night policeman in watertown. "there's the city limits, that switch-tower on the belt line. hadn't we better come down a bit. i don't like the idea of falling so far." tod obediently let the _skyrocket_ slide down a few hundred feet, till they were just above the tree-tops. they could see that their arrival was causing a commotion below. they could even hear the cries of alarm. "bet they think we're a comet," chuckled tod. now he began to circle a bit, for it was hard to identify houses and streets in the dark and from this unfamiliar view. at last jerry gave a shout of joy. "there's our house--and i bet that's dad coming out to see what's up. hey, dad!" he yelled, but the running figure below made no answer. "well, here goes for daisy!" chuckled tod, at the same time pointing the _skyrocket_ earthward so sharply that it made jerry gasp. down, down they shot, the black underneath seeming to be rushing up to crush them. at the last tod managed to lessen their slant, but even then they struck the ground with a force that almost overturned the machine. over the rough ground the landing wheels jolted, but slower and slower. a final disrupting jar, and they stopped dead. not so the object they had struck. with a wild squeal of fear poor daisy struggled to her feet and went tearing out of sight and hearing at better speed than she had shown for years. "that'll bring dad on the jump," declared jerry, climbing painfully from his seat. "say, to-morrow i'm going to take a good look at this rod i've been holding to; i'll bet it shows fingermarks." "what's the meaning of that rumpus out there?" demanded a stern voice. "oh, dad--we need you the worst way." "that you, jerry? what in tarnation you up to anyhow?" "we're not up any longer--we're glad to get back to earth." "eh?" said mr. ring, perplexed, as he came up to them. "what ye driving at? what was that thing that just sailed over the house? did you see it? i heard daisy going on out here like the devil before day--or was it you two who were pestering her? what's that contraption you're sitting on?" "the same thing that just sailed over, dad," laughed jerry, then, unable to hold in any longer: "we came from lost island in mr. fulton's aeroplane that he's just invented, and there's robbers in mr. fulton's house, and we want you to get a gun and mr. bignold and all the neighbors, and go down and get them!" jerry stopped, but only because he was out of breath. "get them? who are _them?_ and what in thunder you two doing in an aero----" "oh, dad," jerry almost screamed in his fear that delay might make them too late, "don't stop to ask questions. let's get to the house and tod can be telephoning while i tell you what it's all about." he caught hold of his father's arm to hurry him along. "there are two men breaking into mr. fulton's safe this minute, most likely, and we mustn't let them get away." "well, what in thunder's fulton got in a safe that any robber would want?" grumbled mr. ring, but stepping briskly along nevertheless. "two men, you say? guess bignold and i can handle them. i've got my old horse-pistol--if it doesn't blow out backwards." they had reached the house, and tod went in to telephone, while mr. ring went upstairs to get his revolver, which, instead of being a horse pistol, was an automatic of the latest type. jerry stopped him for a moment at the stair door. "i'm going ahead. i'll be just outside the gate over yonder, keeping an eye on the place to see they don't get away." he was gone before mr. ring could object. but the house was dark and silent. not a sign of unwelcome visitors was to be seen. all the windows were tightly closed; both doors were shut. jerry felt uncomfortable. suppose there was no one there--had been no one there? the two men would roast him and tod unmercifully. he heard a light step on the walk behind him and turned, expecting his father. his words of greeting died in his throat. two men, looking unbelievably big and threatening in the darkness, were almost upon him. he tried to shout for help. his tongue seemed paralyzed and his throat refused to give out a sound. jerry was scared stiff. he knew at once that these two were the men they had come to capture, and somehow he had a feeling that they knew _that_, too. not a word was said. jerry had backed up against the gatepost, his fists doubled up at his sides. the two pressed in close against him. he felt powerful hands reaching out to crush the life out of him, but still he made no outcry. then one of them spoke. "you came in the airship?" jerry started, for the man's english was perfect, though heavy and foreign sounding in an unexplainable way. he repeated his question when the boy did not answer at once. "yes--yes," stammered jerry, hoping that perhaps he might gain time. "you came alone?" insinuated the same speaker as before, but now an ominous note of threat in his voice. jerry was in a quandary. he realized that if he told them that he had come alone, that they would kill him. on the other hand, if he told them the truth, they would get away. "answer!" commanded the man, catching jerry by the throat and shaking him till the back of jerry's eyeballs seemed to be red, searing flames. a sudden rage came over him, numbed as he was by the pressure on his windpipe. with a mighty wrench he freed himself. kicking out with all his might, he caught the farther man full in the pit of the stomach. he fell, all doubled up. but the man who had choked jerry, laughed scornfully as lie caught the boy's arms and gave the one a twist that almost tore it from its socket. "more spirit than brains," he laughed derisively. "i'll break you in two over my knee if you make another break like that." "you'll kindly put up your hands in the meanwhile," suggested a pleasant but firm voice which jerry could hardly recognize as that of his father. "i think i'll take a little hand in this game myself." "look out, dad--there's one on the ground!" warned jerry. "i kicked him in the stomach." "pleasant way to treat visitors. why didn't you invite them into the house, son? oblige me, gentlemen." he waved his automatic in the general direction of the fulton front porch. "i'd ask you to my own house, but, you know, womenfolks----" jerry stepped out of the way. his assailant passed him and turned to go in the gateway. then something happened, just what, jerry was not sure. afterwards it developed that he had been picked up bodily and hurled full at his father. mr. ring went down like a tenpin when the ball hits dead-center. as he fell, his finger pressed the trigger and six roaring shots flashed into the air. when father and son regained their feet, they had a last dim glimpse of two forms in rapid flight. then the darkness swallowed them up. "we bungled it," said mr. ring, ruefully feeling of a certain soft spot in his body where jerry's weight had landed. "and here come tod--and chief bignold, just a minute too late." "hi there, mr. ring," called the burly constable. "what is it--a riot?" "a massacre, but all the victims escaped. two blooming foreigners trying to steal an airship out of mr. fulton's safe down there in his cellar--wasn't that what you said, boys?" the boys tried to explain, but both men seemed to insist on taking the whole affair as a joke, though they talked it over seriously enough when the youngsters were out of hearing. tod opened the door and let them inside the house, but did not go in himself, motioning to jerry to stay beside him. "you two youngsters chase along over to the house and tell mrs. ring to give you your nursing bottles and put you to bed." "huh," snorted tod, "we daren't leave the _skyrocket_ unguarded." "why it's fulton's kid," exclaimed bignold, for the first time recognizing him. "say, you tell your dad that he's been stirring up this town till it's wild with excitement. three telegrams this day, not to mention a special delivery letter that they've been hunting all over the country for him with. and on top of that, an important little man with brass buttons and shoulder-straps, struttin' all over the place and askin' everybody if he's mr. fulton, the inventor. when'd your dad get to be an inventor?" "well, he had to be born sometime," answered tod dryly. "eh? well, you'd best tell that same little busy-bee where your father can be found. and the telegrams; don't forget them." "i won't," answered tod, starting off toward town on the run. "watch the old _skyrocket_ till i get back, will you, jerry?" and he was gone. * * * * * * * two stiff, sleepy, disgusted boys sat up in their nest of blankets and looked at each other through the framework of the _skyrocket_ next morning at something like seven o'clock. "and you said you wouldn't go to sleep," each said slowly and accusingly to the other, then both grinned sheepishly. "oh, well, the machine's still here, so why grouch over a couple hours' sleep?" tod defended. "huh--i suppose not. but i'll bet dad had a good laugh over us when he came down here about breakfast time. what's that pinned to your blanket?" tod crawled out of his nest and pulled loose the scrap of paper that had been pinned in the region of his big toe. "it's a note. want to hear it? it says, 'mother ring tells me pancakes are ready for you when you've finished your guard-mount. signed--a burglar.' that's sure one on us." it was scant justice that the two did to breakfast that morning. four telegrams were burning holes in tod's pockets; he could hardly keep from tearing them open, so curious was he to know their contents. even the newspaper that mrs. king brought in and laid beside their plates, could not entirely hold their attention, in spite of the startling news headlined on the front page. "break with germany--u. s. on verge of being drawn into world war." "we'll take it with us and read it after we get there. no--not another cake, mrs. ring. excuse us, please--we've got to go." "it seems a shame----" began tod, when they were once more outside, then asked abruptly: "willing to take a licking, jerry?" "and go back on the _skyrocket_? did you think we were going any other way? and leave the machine here for anybody to come along and study out--or steal? not much! i'll take a dozen lickings!" but he didn't. when the _skyrocket_ finally circled about lost island and settled down over the narrow landing field as easily as a homing pigeon, to come to a stop with hardly a jar, it was bringing news to mr. fulton that was bound to soften the heart of any dad. tod's father was out in front of the little cabin, a bit pale and shaky, but cheerful. his face lighted up wonderfully when he saw the _skyrocket_ aground and the two boys safe. he tried to rise to greet them, but had to be satisfied to wave his hand instead. the two boys came running over to where he sat, eager to tell their story. "what's happened?" mr. fulton asked excitedly before they could begin. he was pointing at the newspaper jerry had been waving wildly as they raced across the open. "war--maybe--with germany! but we've more important news than that--for us just now, at least. telegrams--four of them--look. and an officer's been looking for you----" "police?" asked mr. fulton gravely. "army!" exploded tod and jerry together. "bet it's about the----" they paused, for mr. fulton was not listening to them. he had torn one of the telegraph envelopes open and was reading the brief message, his face going first red and then white. "what's all the excitement?" demanded a slow voice in which there was a trace of resentment. it was mr. harris, who had appeared in the doorway of the cabin. "nothing much," answered mr. fulton. "nothing at all. in fact, the excitement's all over. i'm certainly very glad that you balked yesterday on buying that 'pig in a poke,' my dear baronet. it seems," flapping the opened telegram against his other hand, "it seems, my very dear sir, that the american government, being confronted by a situation which bears more than a promise of war, has offered to buy the ideas which are embodied in the _skyrocket_." "hooray for uncle sammy!" shouted tod. all the boys had come crowding around, slapping tod and jerry wildly on the back and cheering till their throats were hoarse. it was fully five minutes before anyone could make himself heard above the din. finally mr. fulton raised his hand for a chance to be heard, and after one rousing shout of "three cheers for the scouts of the air!" the noisy crew quieted down. "phil asked me one day if i'd promise you all a front seat at the circus and a ride on the elephant. well, i'm going to keep my word, i've got a piece of timber about forty miles up the river from here, and on it there's a log cabin and one of the greatest little old fishing lakes in the country. i'm going to take you all up there for a month of the best sport you ever had." "bully for you, dad!" shouted tod, then turned to jerry with: "and while we're there, what say we learn the first principles of boy scouting, so that when we get back to watertown we can organize a patrol of----" "the boy scouts of the air!" finished dave and frank and jerry in a breath. [illustration: "what are you doing to this child?" demanded roy indignantly.] the girl aviators' motor butterfly by margaret burnham author of "the girl aviators and the phantom airship," "the girl aviators on golden wings," "the girl aviators' sky cruise," etc. _with illustrations by charles l. wrenn_ contents i. preparations and plans. ii. off on the flight. iii. little wren and the gipsies. iv. the approach of the storm. v. peggy's thoughtfulness saves the farm. vi. the girl aviators in deadly peril. vii. a stop for the night. viii. roy makes an enemy. ix. jimsy falls asleep. x. peggy's intuition. xi. a mean revenge! xii. the finding of the "butterfly" xiii. prisoners in the hut. xiv. what's to be done with the wren? xv. a rambunctious ram. xvi. an invitation to race. xvii. the twisted spark plug. xviii. in search of a new plug. xix. the trap. xx. an attack in the air. xxi. peggy's splendid race. xxii. peggy's generosity. xxiii. the moonshiners and the aëroplane. xxiv. mr. parker's story. xxv. the wren disappears. xxvi. captured by gipsies. xxvii. deliverance. the girl aviators' motor butterfly chapter i. preparations and plans. "it will be another 'sky cruise,' longer and daintier and lovelier!" exclaimed jess bancroft, clapping her hands. "peggy, you're nothing if not original." "well, there are automobile tours and sailing trips, and driving parties--" "and railroad journeys and mountain tramps--" interrupted jess, laughing. "yes, and there are wonderful, long-distance migrations of birds, so why not a cross-country flight of motor butterflies?" "it would be splendid fun," agreed jess eagerly; "we could take the _golden butterfly_ and the _red dragon_ and----" "don't forget that bess marshall has a small monoplane, too, now. i guess she would go in with us." "not a doubt of it. let's go and find the boys and see what they say to it." "no need to go after them, here they come now." as the golden-haired peggy spoke, two good-looking youths came round the corner of the old-fashioned house at sandy bay, long island, where the two young prescotts made their home with their maiden aunt, miss sally prescott. one of the lads was roy prescott, peggy's brother, and the other was jimsy bancroft. "well, girls, what's up now?" inquired roy, as both girls sprang to their feet, their faces flushed and eyes shining. "oh, nothing particular," rejoined peggy, with assumed indifference, "except that we've just solved the problem of what to do with the rest of the summer." "and what's that,--lie in hammocks and indulge in ice-cream sodas and chocolates?" asked jimsy mockingly. "no, indeed, you impertinent person; the young lady of the twentieth century has left all that far behind her," was jess's parthian shot, "for proof i refer you to our adventures on the great alkali." "hello! what's this?" asked roy, holding up a dainty cardboard box, and giving vent to a mischievous smile. "chocolates!" cried jimsy. "it _was_ chocolates," corrected peggy reproachfully. "and yet shall be," declared jimsy, producing from some mysterious place in a long auto coat another box, beribboned and decorated like the first. "jimsy, you're an angel!" cried both girls at once. "so i've been told before," responded the imperturbable jimsy, "but i never really believed it till now." peggy rewarded him for the compliment by popping a chocolate into his mouth. gravely munching it, jimsy proceeded to interrogation. "and how did you solve the problem of what to do with the rest of the summer?" he asked. for answer peggy pointed to the sky, a delicate blue dome flecked with tiny cloudlets like cherub's wings. "by circling way up yonder in the cloudfields," she laughed. "but that's no novelty," objected roy, "we've been up , feet already, and----" "but we're talking about a tour through cloudland," burst out jess, unable to retain the secret any longer, "a sort of cook's tour above the earth." "wow!" gasped both boys. "there's nothing slow," added roy, "in that or about you two. and, incidentally, just read this letter i got this morning, or rather i'll read it for you." so saying roy produced from his coat a letter closely written in an old-fashioned handwriting. it was as follows: "my dear niece and nephew: no doubt you will be surprised to hear from your uncle jack. possibly you will hardly recall him. this has, in a great measure, been his own fault as, since your poor father's death, i have not paid the attention i should to my correspondence. "this letter, then, is to offer what compensation lies in my power for my neglect. having read in the papers of your wonderful flying feats in nevada it struck me that you and your young friends might like to pay me a 'flying trip,' making the excursion via aëroplane. "we are to have some flying contests in marysville during the latter part of the month, and you might care to participate in them. of course i expect your aunt sallie to accompany you. hoping sincerely to see you, i am "your affectionate uncle, "james parker. "marysville, north carolina." as roy concluded the reading the quartet of merry youngsters exchanged delighted glances. as if by magic here was an objective point descried for their projected motor flight. "well, that's what i call modern magic," declared jimsy glowingly; "consider me as having accepted the invitation." "accepting likewise for me, of course," said jess, shaking her black locks and blinking round, expectant eyes. "of course," struck in peggy affectionately, "the girl aviators cannot be parted." just at this moment came a whirring sound from high in the air above them. looking up, they saw a dainty green monoplane, with widespread wings and whirring propeller, descending to earth. an instant later the machine had come to a halt on the lawn, alighting as lightly as wind-blown gossamer. in the machine was seated a pretty girl of about peggy's age, though rather stouter. in harmony with the color of the machine she drove, the newly arrived girl aviator wore a green aviation costume, with a close-fitting motor bonnet. from the beruffled edge of this some golden strands of hair had escaped, and waved above two laughing blue eyes. "hello, people!" she hailed, as the porch party hastily adjourned and ran to welcome her, "how's that for a novice only recently out of the mineola school?" "bess marshall, you're a wonder!" cried peggy, embracing her; "the _dart_ is the prettiest little machine i've seen for a long time." "isn't it a darling," agreed bess warmly, "but, my! how i had to beg and pray dad before he would buy it for me. he said that no daughter of his should ever go up in an aëroplane, much less drive one. it wasn't till i got him down at mineola and persuaded him to take a ride himself that he consented to buying me my dear little _dart_." she laid one daintily gloved hand on the steering wheel of the little monoplane and patted it affectionately. "it's pretty enough, but it wouldn't fly very far," commented roy teasingly, "sort of aërial taxicab, i'd call it." "is that so, mr. roy prescott? well, i'd like you to know that the _dart_ could fly just as far and as fast as the _red dragon_ or the _golden butterfly_." "well, if you wanted to take a trip to north carolina with us you'd have an opportunity to test that idea out," laughed peggy. "a trip to north carolina? what do you mean? are you dreaming?" "no, not even day-dreaming." just then miss prescott, her gentle face wreathed in smiles, appeared at the door. "children! children!" she exclaimed, "what is all this? adjourn your discussion for a while and come in and have tea." while the happy group of young fliers are entering the pretty, old-fashioned house with its clustering roses and green-shuttered casements, let us relate a little more about the young personages to whose enthusiastic talk the reader has just listened. roy and peggy prescott were orphans living in the care of their aunt, miss prescott, the location of whose home on long island has already been described. at school roy had imbibed the aërial fever, and after many vicissitudes had built a fine monoplane, the _golden butterfly_, with which he had won a big money prize, besides encountering a series of extraordinary aërial adventures. in these peggy participated, and on more than one occasion was the means of materially aiding her brother out of difficulties. all this part of their experiences was related in the first volume of this series, "the girl aviators and the phantom airship." in the second volume, "the girl aviators on golden wings," a combination of strange circumstances took our friends out to the great alkali of the nevada desert. here intrigues concerning a hidden gold mine provided much excitement and peril, and the girls proved that, after all, a fellow's sisters can be splendid companions in fun and hardship. an exciting race with an express train, and the adventure of the "human coyote," provided stirring times in this story, which also related the queer antics of professor wandering william, an odd character indeed. space does not permit to relate their previous adventures in more detail, but in "the girl aviators' sky cruise" still other interesting and unusual experiences are described,--experiences that tested both themselves and their machines in endurance flights. of roy and peggy's devoted friends, jess and jimsy bancroft, it is enough to say that both were children of mr. bancroft, a wealthy banker, who had a palatial summer home near to the prescotts' less pretentious dwelling. since we last met jess and jimsy their father had allowed them to purchase an aëroplane known as the _white flier_. it was in this craft that jimsy and roy had flown over for mail when they made their entrance at the beginning of this chapter. of the letter they found awaiting them we already know. jolly, good-natured bess marshall had taken up aviation as a lark. she was a typical specimen of an american girl. light-hearted, wholesome and devoted to all sorts of sports, tennis, swimming, golf, motoring and finally aviation had, in turn, claimed her attention. and now, having introduced our heroes and heroines of the sky to those who have not already met them, we will proceed to see how miss prescott receives the startling plans that her young charges are about to lay before her. chapter ii. off on the flight. "but, my dear children, do you realize what such a trip means?" the gentle-voiced miss prescott leaned back in her easy-chair and gazed at peggy and roy with an approach to consternation. "it means fun, adventure, and--oh, everything!" cried peggy, clapping her hands. "you can't have the heart to refuse us," sighed jess. "if it were only the boys it might be different, but two young ladies--" "three," corrected bess. "three, then. for three young ladies, supposedly of sound mind, to go flying across country like, like--" "butterflies," struck in jimsy. "wait a minute," cried jess, "there'd have to be four ladies--" "of course; a chaperon," breathed peggy, with a mischievous glance. miss prescott dropped her knitting. "peggy prescott, you mean me?" "of course; who else could go?" "my dear child, do you actually contemplate taking me flying through the air at my time of life?" "why not? it isn't as if you'd never been up," urged peggy. "you said you liked it, too," struck in jess. "um--well, i may have said so," admitted miss prescott, visibly weakening from the stand she had taken, and she went on: "i would like to see james again." "and here is your opportunity ready to hand, as the advertisements say," declared bess, her blue eyes shining. "but how could i go?" the question was an outward and visible sign of capitulation on miss prescott's part. "why, i was thinking we could use that big biplane i was building for mr. bell's use out in nevada," spoke up roy; "it will seat three, and is as steady as a church, thanks to that balancing device jimsy and i figured out." "i'd fly my little _dart_," declared bess. "and you and i would take the _golden butterfly_," cried peggy, crossing to jessie and placing her arm round the dark-haired girl's neck. "jimsy can fly the _red dragon_, and that leaves roy and auntie for the biplane," she went on, bubbling over with enthusiasm as her plans matured and took form. "goodness gracious, an aërial circus!" cried miss prescott. "we would attract crowds, and that wouldn't be pleasant." "i was planning to make it a sort of picnic," declared peggy, who appeared to have an answer for every objection that could be interposed to her project. "what, camp out every night? well, you are a wonder," exclaimed jimsy, "if there's one thing i love it's camping out." "how long would it take us to get to marysville?" asked bess. "i'll get the atlas," cried peggy, "but if we have good weather not more than three or four days." "i hardly think it would take as long as that," declared roy, as five eager heads were bent over the atlas. "but camping out!" exclaimed miss prescott, "think of colds and rheumatism, not to mention snakes and robbers." "tell you what," cried jimsy suddenly, "what's the matter with miss prescott going along in an automobile? we can map out the route, arrange our stops and meet every evening at some small town where we won't attract too much of a crowd." "jimsy, i always said you were a genius," cried peggy. "behold the last objection swept away," struck in bess. "surely you can't refuse now?" urged jess. "please say yes," came from them all. "but--but who would drive the car?" asked miss prescott, in the voice of one who is thinking up a feeble last objection. "why, jake rickets, of course," declared roy, referring to the man who helped the boys in the machine shop in which the aëroplanes for the desert mines were manufactured. after this miss prescott could make but a poor stand against the united urgings of five impetuous, enthusiastic young people. the air was filled with plans of all sorts. jimsy was for going at once, but it was finally decided to meet again and set a definite date for a start. in the meantime there were parents' consents to be obtained, plans laid for the route to be followed, and various things purchased for the aërial trip. all this occupied some time, and it was not till a week later that the last difficulty in connection with the motor flight had been straightened out and the three aëroplanes stood ready, in roy's hangar, for a tour that was to prove eventful in more ways than one. it was just after dawn on the day of the start that roy and jimsy for the last time went over every nut and bolt on the machines and declared everything in perfect readiness for the trip. breakfast was a mere pretence at a meal; excitement got the better of appetites that morning. beside the winged machines sputtering and coughing as if impatient at the delay, was a large and comfortable red touring car. at the driver's wheel of this vehicle was seated a small, "under-done"-looking man, in a chauffeur's uniform of black leather. this was jake rickets. "well, jake, we're all ready for a start," announced roy, at last. the small man, whose hair was fair, not to say pale, glanced at the glowing boy with an expression of deep melancholy. "yes, if something don't happen," he declared, in tones of deep pessimism. "jake's never happy unless he's foreboding some disaster," explained roy to bess, who happened to be standing by drawing on her gloves. "it don't never do to be too sure," murmured the melancholy jake, "'cos why? well, you can't most generally always tell." "everything ready?" cried peggy at last, as miss prescott got into the car. "as ready as it ever will be," merrily called back bess, who was already seated in the little green _dart_. the chorus of engine pantings and explosions was swelled by the roar of roy's big biplane and the rattling exhaust of jimsy's fierce-looking _red dragon_. the _golden butterfly_, which was equipped with a silencing device, ran smoothly and silently as a sewing machine. peggy sat at the wheel, while jess reclined on the padded seat placed tandemwise behind her. it made a wonderful picture, the big white biplane with its boy driver, the scarlet and silver machine of jimsy bancroft and the delicate green and gold color schemes of the other two flying machines. "the first stop will be palenville," announced roy, "the biplane will be the pathfinder." despite the earliness of the hour and the efforts that had been made to keep the motor flight a secret, the information of the novel experiment had, in some way, leaked out. quite a small crowd gave a loud cheer as roy cried: "go!" "we're off!" cried peggy, athrill with excitement. propellers flashed in the sunlight and the next instant the biplane, after a short run, soared aloft toward a sky of cloudless, clean-swept blue. in rapid succession the _dart, golden butterfly_ and _red dragon_ followed. "come on," cried bess to jimsy, waving her hand challengingly. "ladies first, even off the earth," came back from jimsy gallantly, as he skillfully "banked" his machine in an upward spiral. then upward and outward soared the gayly colored sky racers, like a flock of wonderful birds. it was the greatest sight that the crowd left behind and below had ever witnessed, although one or two shook their heads and prophesied dire results from young ladies tampering with them blamed "sky buggies." but not a thought of this entered the heads of the aërial adventurers. with sparkling eyes, and bounding pulses they flew steadily southward, from time to time glancing below at the touring car. even though they were flying slowly it was plain that the big auto had hard work to keep up with them. the unique motor flight was on, and was about to develop experiences of which none of them at the moment dreamed. chapter iii. little wren and the gipsies. they flew on, keeping the motor car beneath them in constant sight till about noon. then, from the tonneau of the machine, came the waving of a red square of silk. this had been agreed upon as a signal to halt for a brief lunch. shouting joyously, the young adventurers of the air began circling their machines about, dropping closer earthward with every sweep. beneath them was a green meadow, bordered on one side by a country road and on the other by a small brook of clear water and a patch of dark woods. it was an ideal place to halt for a roadside lunch, and as one after the other the machines dropped to earth miss prescott was warmly congratulated on her choice of a halting place. the car was left in the road, and the melancholy jake rickets set to work getting wood for a fire, for it was not to be thought of that miss prescott could go without her cup of tea. in the meantime the girls spread a cloth and set out their fare. there were dainty chicken sandwiches with crisp lettuce leaves lurking between the thin white "wrappers," cold meat and half a dozen other little picnic delicacies, which all the girls, despite their aërial craze, had not forgotten how to make. the boys set up a shout as, returning from attending to the aëroplanes, they beheld the inviting table. "this beats camping out by ourselves," declared roy, "girls, we're glad we brought you." "thank you for the compliment," laughed jess. "i suppose you mean that you are glad _we_ brought all this." she waved her hand at the "spread" dramatically. "both," rejoined jimsy, throwing himself on the grass. by this time jake's kettle was bubbling merrily, and soon the refreshing aroma of miss prescott's own particular kind of tea was in the air. the boys preferred to try the water from the brook, despite jake's dire hints at typhoid and other germs holding a convention in it. it was sweet and cool, and the girls voted it as good as ice-cream soda. "at any rate as we can't get any we might as well pretend it is," declared bess. so the meal passed merrily. after it had been concluded, amid gay chatter and fun, peggy proposed an excursion to the woods for wild flowers which grew in great profusion on the opposite side of the stream. crossing it by a plank bridge, the young people plunged into the cool woods, dark and green, and carpeted with flowering shrubs and vines. for some time they gathered the blossoms, and were just about to return to the aëroplanes and resume their journey when peggy uttered a sudden sharp exclamation: "hark! what's that?" she cried. they all listened. again came the sound that had arrested her attention; a sharp cry, as if some one was in pain or fright. then came definite words: "don't! please; don't hit me again!" "it's a child!" exclaimed jimsy. "a girl!" cried peggy, "some one is ill-treating her." "we'll soon find out!" cried roy hotly. it infuriated the boy to think that a child was being subjected to ill-treatment, and the nature of the cries left no doubt that such was the case. "stand back here, girls, while we see what's up!" struck in jimsy. "indeed we'll do no such thing!" rejoined the plucky bess, bridling indignantly. "at any rate let us go in advance," advised roy; "we don't know just what we may run up against." this appeared reasonable even to bess, and with the boys slightly in advance the little group pressed rapidly forward. after traveling about two hundred yards they found themselves in a small clearing where a most unusual sight presented itself; a sight that brought a quick flash of indignation to the face of every one of them. cowering under the blows of a tall, swarthy woman was a small girl, so fragile as to appear almost elfin. the woman wore the garb of a gipsy, and the presence of some squalid tents and tethered horses showed our young friends at once that it was a gipsy encampment upon which they had happened. the woman was so intent on belaboring the shrieking child that at first she did not see the newcomers. it was not till roy stepped up to her, in fact, that she became aware of their presence. "what are you doing to this child?" demanded roy indignantly. "that's none of your business," was the retort, as the woman for an instant released her hold on the child. instantly the little creature darted to the sheltering arms of peggy, sobbing piteously. "oh! save me from her, she will kill me," the child cried, in a broken voice. "there! there!" soothed peggy tenderly, "don't cry. we won't let her harm you any more." but like a fury the woman flew at the girls. before she could lay hands on them, however, roy and jimsy had seized her arms and held them. at this the crone set up a hideous shriek and, as if it had been a signal, two swarthy men, with dark skins and big earrings in their ears, came running from behind the tents. "what's the trouble?" they cried, as they ran up, regarding the boys malevolently. "it's the wren; they're trying to steal the wren!" shrilled out the woman. at this the men rushed at the boys, one of them waving a thick cudgel he carried. "let go of that woman," they shouted furiously. another instant and the boys would have been in a bad position, for both the gipsies were powerful fellows, and appeared determined to commit violence. but roy, releasing his hold of the struggling gipsy woman, put up his fists in such a scientific manner that, for an instant, the attack paused. this gave jimsy time to rush to his side. the instant she was released the woman darted to the side of the men. "beat them! kill them!" she cried frantically. the men resumed their rush, and the next moment the boys found themselves fighting to escape a furious assault. neither of the lads was a weakling, and good habits and constant athletic exercise had placed them in the pink of condition. but the two gipsies were no mean antagonists. then, too, the one with the cudgel wielded it skillfully. time and again jimsy avoided a heavy blow which, if successful, must have injured him seriously. the girls, screaming, rushed off, carrying "the wren," as the woman called her, with them. they dashed at top speed back to the spot where the aëroplanes had been left, and summoned jake. "i knew something would happen," declared that worthy, as he picked up a monkey wrench, the only weapon at hand, and started off for the woods. the girls followed him, miss prescott not having been vouchsafed anything but a most hurried explanation of what was going on. just as jake appeared on the scene jimsy had received a terrific blow on the arm from one of the gipsy's cudgels. the boy's arm dropped as if paralyzed. with a howl of triumph the ruffian who had dealt him the blow rushed in on the injured lad. in another instant it would have looked bad indeed for jimsy, but roy, landing a hard blow against his assailant, hastened to his chum's rescue. "you look after that fellow. i'll take care of this one," cried jake, rushing into the mêlée, whirling his monkey wrench in a formidable manner. the girls, huddled in a group, gazed on in frank alarm. "oh, they'll be killed!" shrilled jess. "roy! roy! be careful!" cried peggy. "oh, i wish we could get a policeman," cried bess, clasping her hands nervously. but as it happened a policeman, even if such a personage had been within a dozen miles, was not needed. a clever blow from roy laid the cudgel wielder low, and the other man, not liking the look of jake's monkey wrench, capitulated by taking to his heels. the woman cowered back among the tents. "come on, let's be going," cried roy, as he saw that the battle was over. "ouch! my wrist!" exclaimed jimsy, wringing his left hand; "i believe that fellow has broken it." "let's have a look," said roy, as the two boys made their way to the huddled group of girls. "nothing but a nasty whack," he pronounced, after an examination. "well, girls, was it an exciting battle?" "oh, it was terrible," cried jess; "we thought you'd be badly beaten." "but as it is we appear to be future 'white hopes,' not forgetting jake," smiled roy, who was still panting from his exertions. "you were awfully brave, i think," cried bess admiringly, giving the three "heroes" a warm glance. "well, there wasn't anything to do but fight, unless we'd run away," laughed roy, "and now what about the cause of all the trouble?" he glanced at the little girl clinging to peggy's hand. the child was pitifully emaciated, with drawn features and large, dark eyes that gazed about her bewilderedly. her clothing was a red gingham dress that fitted her like a sack. she was shoeless and stockingless. her brown hair, unkempt and ragged, hung in elf locks about her sad little face. certainly, as regarded size and general appearance, her name, "the wren," fitted her admirably. "i don't know what to do about her," admitted peggy; "suppose we ask aunt sally? i don't want to let the gipsies have her again, and yet i don't see how we can take her." at the words the little creature burst into a frantic outbreak. "don't let those people have me back; don't," she begged; "they'll kill me if you do." she clung passionately to peggy's dress. tears came to the girl's eyes at the pitiful manifestation of fear. "there! there, dear," soothed peggy, stroking the child's head, "you shan't go back if we can help it. come with us for the time being, anyway." "but we have no legal right to take her," objected roy. "don't say another word," snapped the usually gentle peggy, whose indignation had been fully aroused, "come on. let's get back to where we left aunt sally, then we can decide what to do." "incidentally, we'll do well to get out of this vicinity before any more of those fellows come up. there must be several more somewhere close at hand," exclaimed jimsy. "yes; and i'll bet the others, the two who ran off, have gone to call them," put in roy; "that woman has disappeared, too." no time was lost in getting back to the aëroplanes, "the wren," as the gipsies called her, keeping tight hold of peggy's hand. the boys walked behind and, with jake, formed a sort of rear guard to ward off any possible attack. but either the other members of the band were far off, or else they did not care to attempt an assault, for the party reached the aëroplanes without further incident or molestation. miss prescott's consternation may be imagined as she listened to the tale they had to tell. from time to time during its relation she glanced pityingly at the wren. "poor child!" she exclaimed, gazing at the wizened little creature's bruised arms. they were black and blue from rough handling, and bore painful testimony to the life she had lived among the gipsies. "what is your name, dear?" she asked, motioning to the child as peggy finished her story. "the wren, that's what they always called me," was the response, in a thin little wisp of a voice. "have you no other name?" asked miss prescott kindly. the child shook her head. "i don't know. perhaps i did once. i wasn't always with the tribe. i remember a home and my mother, but that was all so long ago that it isn't clear." "then she's not a gipsy," declared peggy emphatically. "i'll bet they kidnapped her some place," exclaimed roy. "that doesn't solve the problem of what to do with her," struck in jess. "we can't send her back to those people," declared bess, with some warmth. "on the other hand, how are we to look after her?" said jimsy. "it's a problem that will have to solve itself," said miss prescott, after a few moments of deep thinking. "how is that?" asked peggy. "because she goes with us no matter what happens. it may not be legal, but humanity comes above the law sometimes," declared miss prescott, with emphasis. "hurrah for aunt sally!" cried the boys, "she's as militant as a newly blossomed suffragette. cheer up, wren, you're all right now." "then i'm to stay with you?" questioned the child. "of course," came from aunt sally. the child buried her head on the kind-hearted lady's lap and burst into a passion of weeping that fairly shook her frail frame. it was at this juncture that jake set up a shout and pointed toward the woods. from them a group of men had burst, armed with sticks and stones. they came rushing straight at the little group, uttering ferocious shouts. "we're in for it now," exclaimed roy; "girls, you had better get in the machine and drive a safe distance. those fellows mean mischief." chapter iv. approach of the storm. it was apparent enough that mean mischief they did. their dark eyes gleamed fiercely out of their swarthy faces. one or two wore a vivid red or blue handkerchief knotted about sinewy necks, this means of adornment only adding to their generally sinister look. "i knew we wouldn't get far without running into trouble," moaned jake dejectedly. roy turned on him sharply, almost angrily. "you get the ladies in that machine and drive off down the road a bit," he said; "i'll attend to this thing. jimsy, come here." jake hesitated a moment and then strode off to the auto. "can't we stay and help?" asked bess. "no; we can help roy best by doing what he; wants us to. he's got some plan in his head," rejoined peggy firmly, "come along, wren; jess, help me with her, she's terrified to death." this was no exaggeration. at sight of the gipsy band, the child so recently taken from their clutches shrank and cowered against her young protectress. "don't let them take me--don't!" she kept wailing. "never mind; don't be scared, wren," peggy comforted, "they won't get you." a flash of determined fire came into peggy's eyes as she spoke. "peg! you're magnificent," exclaimed jess, as, headed by miss prescott, they hastened toward the car which jake had already cranked. the gipsies had paused for an instant. evidently the sight of the aëroplanes bewildered and amazed them. expecting to come on a camp of young folks they had suddenly encountered a group of machines which, to them, must have savored of the supernatural. but as the auto drove off they were due for an even greater surprise. following a swift whisper from roy both boys had jumped into the _red dragon_. in an instant came the sharp barking of the engine. the flying machine dashed forward almost simultaneously. straight at the angry nomads roy headed it. it was as if a war chariot of old was charging into a group of defiant barbarians. for a few moments the gipsies stood their ground. but as the machine rose from the ground, skimmed it, as it were, roy thrust on full power. the machine darted over the spot where the gipsies had stood but an instant before; but they had gone. scattering with wild cries of fear, they could be seen running for their lives toward the wood. "i don't think they'll trouble us again in a hurry," declared roy grimly, as he brought the _red dragon_ round in a circle and headed back for the rest. from the machine came a cheer, miss prescott's voice ringing out as loudly as any. "the idea just came to me in a second," explained roy modestly, in answer to the ladies' congratulations and praise, "it worked, though, didn't it?" "like a charm," they all agreed. "hadn't we better be getting on?" asked jimsy, a minute later. "yes; there's no knowing if those fellows won't try a flank attack, although i think they've had a big enough scare thrown into them to last them quite a while with economy," laughed roy. "who is going to take care of wren?" asked bess. "she'll ride right in the car with me," declared miss prescott positively, "you don't think i'm going to risk her in one of those things of yours, do you?" they all laughed. as a matter of fact, there was not one of the party that was not more at home in the air than on a road. then, too, roy's balancing device had about removed the last peril of air traveling. it was agreed to stop at meadville, which the map showed was about thirty miles to the southeast, and purchase a dress and other necessities for their new ward. as to what was to be done with her after that nobody had any very definite plans. and so the journey was resumed, with congratulations flying over the way in which they came out of what, for a time, looked like a really serious scrape. the weather had held fair till a short time after the start was made from the scene of the encounter with the gipsies. it was peggy who first observed a change in the sky. from the southwest billowy masses of slate-colored clouds came rolling on, obscuring the sunlit landscape beneath with an effect of lights turned down on a stage. turning to jess, who occupied the seat behind her, she remarked: "we're going to have some bad kind of a storm, girlie." jess nodded. "wonder how far we are from meadville?" she asked. "quite a way yet. i'm afraid that we can't make it before the storm breaks." "look, there's roy coming back, and jimsy, too. i guess they want to talk about it." this turned out to be the case. as roy came swinging by he held a small megaphone to his mouth with one hand, while the other gripped the steering wheel tightly. "we're in for a storm, girls, and a hummer, too, from the look of it." "better drop down," counseled jimsy. jess nodded, and, as at this moment bess, who had seen the boy's maneuver, came by, the news was communicated to her. the next thing to do was to look about for a suitable place to land. the country over which they were passing was heavily wooded, and seemingly sparsely populated. beneath them wound a road, along which, but at some distance behind, the touring car could be seen coming in a cloud of yellow dust. the wind began to grow puffy, and it required all the skill of the young aviators to keep their flock of motor-driven birds on even wings. before long, just as the distant, but fast approaching, cloud curtain began to be ripped and slashed by vivid scimitars of lightning, roy espied, beneath them, a field, at one end of which stood a prosperous-looking farmhouse, surrounded by buildings and hay stacks. it was an ideal spot in which to land, and as the road was near by they would have no difficulty in attracting the attention of miss prescott when she went by. in graceful volplanes the aëroplanes lit in the field like an alighting flight of carrier pigeons. but hardly had they touched the ground when from the farmhouse a man came running in his shirtsleeves, his lower limbs being garbed in overalls and knee-boots. on his chin was a goatee, and as he drew closer they saw that his face was thin and hatchet shaped and anything but agreeable. "you git out of thar! you git out of thar!" he kept shouting as he came along, stumbling over the stubble, for the field had been newly reaped. "why, what's the matter? we're not hurting anything," objected roy; "surely you don't mind our occupying the field for an hour or so till the storm blows over?" "i daon't, hey? wa'al, i do, by heck. i own all the way daown and all the way up frum this farm, and thet's ther law." "if we didn't have these ladies with us we'd be only too glad to leave your field," rejoined jimsy, "but you can see for yourself a nasty storm is coming up." "what bizness hes gals riding round in them sky-buggies," stormed the farmer; "ef any darter uv mine did it i'd lock her up on bread an' water, by jim hill." "i don't doubt it in the least," smiled peggy sweetly. "humph!" grunted the cantankerous old agriculturist, not quite sure if he was being made fun of or if his resolution was being admired; "all i got to say is thet ef you want to stay here you gotter pay." "that can be arranged," spoke jimsy, with quiet sarcasm. "an' pay wa'al, too," resumed the farmer tenaciously. "how much do you think the lease of your field for an hour or so is worth?" asked roy. the farmer considered an instant, and then, with an avaricious look in his pin-point blue eyes, he looked up. "'bout ten dollars," he said, at length. "we don't want to buy it, we just want to rent it for a very short time," struck in bess, with her most innocent expression. "wa'al, it's ten or git off!" snapped the farmer. "i'll pay you a fair price for it," spoke up roy, "and not a cent more." "then i'll drive you off with a shot-gun, by chowder." "oh, no, you won't." "won't, hey? what'll stop me?" "the law." "ther law? thet's a good one." "i think it is, a very good one," struck in jimsy, who now saw what roy was driving at. "humph! wa'al, if yer a'goin' te talk law i'll jes' tell yer quick thet this is my land and thet you're all a-trespassing." "you are not very well up on aërial law, it seems," replied roy, in an absolutely unruffled tone. "don't know nuthin' 'bout this air-ile law," grumbled the fellow, but somewhat impressed by roy's calm, deliberate exterior. "well, then, for your information i'll tell you that under the laws of the country recently enacted aviators are entitled to land in any safe landing place in times of emergency. if they do any damage they must pay for it. if not the owner of the land is not entitled to anything for the temporary use of his place." "five dollars or nothing," spoke jimsy, "and if you try to put us off you'll get into serious trouble." "wa'al, yer a-robbin' me," muttered the man, much impressed by roy's oratory, "gimme ther five." it was quickly forthcoming. the old fellow took it without a word and shuffled off. as he did so there was a vivid flash of lightning and the growl of a big crash of thunder. while it was still resounding the auto came puffing up. jake had put up the storm top and made it as snug and comfortable as a house. "come on, boys and girls," urged roy, "let's get the engines covered up and then beat it for the car. the rain will hit in in torrents in a few minutes." indeed they were still making fast the waterproof covers constructed to throw over the motors in just such emergencies when the big drops began to fall. there was a helter-skelter race for the car. in they all crowded, and none too soon. the air was almost as dark as at dusk, and there was a heavy sulphurous feeling in the atmosphere. but within the curtains of the car all was fun and merriment. the case of the old farmer was discussed at length, and jimsy convulsed them all by his clever imitation of the way the bargain was driven. he was in the midst of his description when a fearfully vivid flash lit up the interior of the car as brightly as day. as it did so the wren uttered a sharp cry. "what is it, dear? afraid of the lightning?" asked miss prescott, while a thunder volley boomed and reverberated. "no, no," shivered the child, drawing closer to her, "but when i see a flash like that i sometimes remember." "remember what?" asked miss prescott tenderly. "oh, i don't know," wailed the child, "people and places. they come for a moment and then disappear again as quickly as they came." chapter v. peggy's thoughtfulness saves the farm. flash after flash, roar after roar, the lightning and thunder crashed and blazed as the full fury of the storm struck in. miss prescott, who was in deadly fear of lightning, covered her eyes with a thick veil and sank back in the cushions of the tonneau. but the rest of the party regarded the furious storm with interest. the rain was coming down in sheets, but not one drop penetrated the water-proof top of the big touring car. "it's grand, isn't it?" asked peggy, after a particularly brilliant flash. "um--ah, i don't just know," rejoined jess, "it's rather too grand if anything. i----" bang! there was a sharp report, like that of a large cannon. the air was filled with an eye-blistering blaze of blue fire. stunned for an instant, and half blinded, not one of the young folks in the touring car uttered a word. the storm, too, appeared to be "holding its breath" after that terrific bombardment. "that struck close by," declared roy, the first to recover his speech. "oh! oh!" moaned miss prescott, "then the next will hit us!" "don't be a goose, aunt sally," comforted peggy; "don't you know that lightning never strikes twice in the same place?" miss prescott made no answer. in fact she had no opportunity to do so. from close at hand shouts were coming. loud, frightened shouts. "fire! fire!" "gracious! something's on fire at that farmhouse!" cried peggy. "that's what!" came in excited tones from roy as he peered out through the rain. "look at them running about," chimed in jimsy. "it's from that haystack! see the smoke roll up!" cried bess. "the lightning must have struck it. say, we'd better go and help," exclaimed roy anxiously. "i don't see that the old man who was so mean to us deserves any help," murmured bess, rather angrily. "why, bess, for shame!" reproved peggy. "go on, boys, the rain's letting up, maybe you can help them." "all right, sis. come on, jimsy!" the boys dived out of the car and set off running at top speed for the scene of the blaze, which was in a haystack back of the main barn of the farmhouse. several farm hands, under the direction of the disagreeable old man, whose name was zenas hutchings, were running about with buckets of water, which were about as effective as trying to sweep the sea back with a broom, so far as gaining any headway against the flames was concerned. had the rain continued it might have been possible for the farm hands to quell the blaze with the assistance of the elements; but the storm had ceased almost as suddenly as it began, and only a few scattering drops were now falling. off to the southwest the sky was blue once more. the farmer turned despairingly to the boys as they came running up. "'clare ter goodness if it ain't them kids ag'in," he exclaimed; "wa'al, you ain't brought me nuthin' but bad luck so far as i kin see. hyars a hundred dollars' worth of hay goin' up in smoke an'--" a farm hand came bustling up. his face was pale under the grime of soot that overlaid it. "ef we don't git ther fire under control purty soon," he cried, "ther whole place 'ull go." "what's thet, jed?" snapped old hutchings anxiously. "i said that ther sparks is beginning ter fly. if ther fire gits much hotter it'll set suthin' else ablaze." "by heck! that's so!" cried old hutchings, in an alarmed voice. he gazed about him perplexedly. "isn't there any fire apparatus near here?" asked roy. "yep; at topman's corners. but that's five miles off." "have you telephoned them?" asked jimsy, who had noticed that the hutchings farm, like most up-to-date ones, was equipped with a telephone; at least there were wires running into the place which appeared to be of that nature. "ain't no use telephoning" was the disconsolate rejoinder. "why?" "wire's busted. reckon ther storm put it out of business. i guess it's all up with me now. i hoped ter pay off ther part of ther mortgage with ther hay and grain in thet barn yonder, an' now----" he broke off in a half sob. cantankerous as the old man had shown himself to be, and grasping withal, the boys could not help but feel sorry for the stricken old fellow. he looked pitifully bowed and old and wretched in the midst of his distracted farm hands, who were running about and shouting and not doing much of anything else. "wa'al," he said, at length, pulling himself together with a visible effort, "thar's no chance of gitting ther fire ingines, so it'll hev ter go, i guess." "yes there is a chance of getting the engines, and a good one, too." they all turned at the sound of a girlish voice, and there stood peggy with jess by her side. the two girls had stolen up unnoticed in the excitement. "bravo, peg!" exclaimed roy heartily, glancing approvingly at his sister, "what's your idea?" "fly over and get help." "fly over! wa'al, i'll be switched!" gasped old hutchings. "i don't see why not," struck in jimsy, "it's five miles, you say. well, we ought to make that in ten minutes or so, or even quicker." "how fast can the engines get back?" asked roy practically. "wa'al, ther roads be good and bob shields hez a right smart team," was the rejoinder. "they ought ter make it in half an hour." "good. then if you can hold the flames in check for a short time longer we can save your place yet." beckoning to jimsy, the boy darted off for the _red dragon_. this machine he selected because, with the exception of the _dart_, it was the fastest and lightest of the aëroplanes they had with them. farmer hutchings had hardly closed his mouth from its gaping expression of surprise when a whirr of the motor announced that the _red dragon_ was off. its lithe body shot into the air with tremendous impetus. "ther corners is off thar to ther westward," shouted up the farmer, "you can't miss it. it's got a red brick church with a high tower on it right in the middle of a clump of elms." speeding above fields and woodland the red messenger of pending disaster raced through the air. five minutes after taking flight jimsy espied a high red tower. eight and one half minutes after the _dragon_ had shot aloft it fluttered to earth on the village street of topman's corners, amid an amazed group of citizens who had seen it approaching. it was the first aëroplane ever seen in the remote pennsylvanian hamlet, and it created commensurate excitement. but the boys had no time to answer the scores of questions, foolish and otherwise, that were volleyed at them from all sides. "there's a fire!" exclaimed jimsy breathlessly, "a fire at hutchings's farm. how soon can you get the engines there?" a stalwart-looking young fellow stepped up. "i'm chief of the department," he said, "we're the 'valiants.' i'll be there in twenty-five minutes if i have to kill the horses. it's downhill most of the way, anyhow. jim, you run off and ring ther bell." a second later the fire bell was loudly clanging and several of the crowd melted away to don their helmets and coats. in less time than the boys would have thought it possible a good-looking engine came rumbling out of the fire house half a block down the street. behind it came a hook and ladder truck. fine horses were attached to each, and from the way they leaped off the boys saw that the "chief" meant to make good his promise. "race you to ther fire!" shouted the latter functionary, as, in a storm of cheers, his apparatus swept out of sight down the elm-bordered street. "you're on," laughed roy, whisking aloft while the topman's cornerites were still wondering within themselves if they were waking or dreaming. chapter vi. the girl aviators in deadly peril. the fire was out. a smoldering, blackened hillock was all that remained of the stack ignited by the lightning bolt; but the others and the main buildings of the farm had been saved. such work was a new task for aëroplanes--but there is no doubt that, had it not been for peggy's suggestion, the hutchings farm would have been burned to the ground. as it was, when the firemen, their horses in a lather, arrived at the scene, the farm hands, who had been fighting the flames, were almost exhausted. had they possessed the time, the young folks would have been glad to tell the curious firemen something about their aëroplanes. but it was well into the afternoon, and if they intended to keep up their itinerary it was necessary for them to be hurrying on. a short time after the blaze had been declared "out" the aëroplanes once more soared aloft, and the auto chugged off in the direction of meadville. the afternoon sun shone sparklingly on the trees and fields below, all freshened by the downpour of the early afternoon. the spirits of all rose as did their machines as they raced along. before leaving the hutchings farm the old man had been so moved to generosity by the novel manner in which his farm had been saved from destruction that he had offered to give back $ . of the $ he had demanded for the rent of his field. of course they had not taken it, but the evident anguish with which the offer was made afforded much amusement to the young aviators as they soared along. in peggy's machine the talk between herself and jess was of the strange finding of the wren, and of the child's curious ways. both girls recalled her odd conduct during the storm and what she had said about the peculiar influence of lightning on her memory. "depend on it, jess," declared peggy, with conviction, "that child is no more a gipsy than you or i." "do you think she was stolen from somewhere?" asked jess, readily guessing the drift of her friend's thoughts. "i don't know, but i'm sure they had no legal right to her," was the reply. "oh, peg! suppose she should turn out to be a missing heiress!" jess, who loved a romance, clasped her gauntleted hands. peggy laughed. "missing heiresses are not so common as you might suppose," she said; "i never met any one who had encountered any, except in story books." "still, it would be great if we had really found a long missing child, or--or something like that," concluded jess, rather lamely. "i can't see how we would be benefiting the child or its parents, either, since we have no way of knowing who the latter are," rejoined the practical peggy, which remark closed the discussion for the time being. it was not more than half an hour later when jess uttered a sharp cry of alarm. from the forward part of the aëroplane a wisp of smoke had suddenly curled upward. like a blue serpent of vapor it dissolved in the air almost so quickly as to make jess believe, for an instant, that she had been the victim of an hallucination. but that it was no figment of the imagination was evidenced a few moments later by peggy herself. aroused by jess's cry, she had made an inspection of the machine, with alarming results. what these were speedily became manifest. "jess! the machine is on fire!" she cried afrightedly. as if in verification of her words there came a puff of flame and a strong reek of gasoline. it was just then that both girls recalled that the _golden butterfly_ carried twenty-five gallons of gasoline, without counting the reserve supply. fire on an aëroplane is even more terrifying than a similar casualty on any other type of machine. hardly had peggy's words confirming the alarming news left her lips when there came a cry from jess. the girl had just glanced at the barograph. it showed that they were then , feet above the surface of the earth. the girl had hardly made this discovery before, from beneath the "bow" of the monoplane, came a wave of flame; driven from the steering wheel by the heat, peggy drew back toward her companion. her face was ashen white. left to itself the aëroplane "yawed" wildly, like a craft without a rudder. then suddenly it dashed down toward the earth, smoke and flames leaping from its front part. both girls uttered a cry of terror as the aircraft fell like a stone hurled into space. faster and faster it dashed earthward without a controlling hand to guide it. it was at this instant that roy and jimsy became aware of what had happened. [illustration: both girls uttered a cry of terror as the air craft fell like a stone hurled into space.] instantly they swung their machine around in time to see the _golden butterfly_ make her sickening downward swoop. both lads uttered a cry of fear as they saw what appeared to mean certain death for the two girl aviators. roy's fingers scarcely grasped the wheel of his machine as he saw the downward drop. jimsy was as badly affected. but almost before they could grasp a full realization of the accident the _golden butterfly_ was almost on the ground. it was in a hilly bit of country, interspersed by small lakes or ponds. a freak of the wind caught the blazing aëroplane as it fell and drove it right over one of these small bodies of water. the _golden butterfly_ appeared to hesitate for one instant and then plunged right into the water, flinging the two girls out. both were expert swimmers, but the shock of the sudden descent, and the abrupt manner in which they had been flung into the water had badly unstrung their nerves. jess struck out valiantly, but the next instant uttered a cry: "peg! peg! i'm sinking!" peggy pluckily struck out for her chum and succeeded in seizing her. then with brisk strokes she made for the shore, luckily only a few yards distant. it was at this juncture that the boys' machines came to earth almost simultaneously. high above bess's _dart_ hovered, and presently it, too, began to drop downward. apparently the accident had not been seen from the auto, at any rate the car was not turned back toward the scene of the accident. as the boys' aëroplanes struck the earth not far from the bank of the pond toward which peggy was at that moment valiantly struggling, the two young aviators leaped out and set out at a run to the rescue. they reached the bank in the nick of time to pull out the two drenched, half-exhausted girls. "at any rate the fall was a lucky one in a way!" gasped the optimistic peggy, as soon as she caught her breath, "it put out the fire." and so it had. not only that, but the aëroplane, buoyed up by its broad wings, was still floating. on board the _red dragon_ was a long bit of rope. jimsy produced this and then swam out to the drifting _butterfly_. the rope was made fast to it and the craft dragged ashore. but when they got it to the bank the problem arose as to how they were going to drag it up the steep acclivity. again and again they tried; bess, who had by this time alighted, aiding them. but it was all to no purpose. even their united strength failed to move the heavy apparatus. "i've got an idea!" shouted jimsy suddenly, during a pause in their laborious operations. "good! don't let it get away, i beg of you!" implored peggy. "oh, peg! don't tease, besides, you don't look a bit cute with your hair all wet and draggled, and as for your dress--goodness!" this came from jess, herself sadly "rumpled" and in addition wet through. before peggy could reply to her chum's half rallying remark jimsy, unabashed, continued: "we'll hitch this rope to the _red dragon_ and then start her up for all she's worth." "jimsy, you're a genius!" "a modern marvel!" "a solid promontory of pure gray matter!" in turn the remarks came from each of the party. but jimsy, bothering not at all at the laughing encomiums, proceeded to secure the rope to the _red dragon_. this done, he started up the engine and clambered into his seat. "all ashore that's going ashore!" he yelled, in mocking imitation of the stewards of an ocean liner. there wasn't an instant's hesitation as he threw the load upon the engine. then the rope tautened. it grew tight as a fiddle string. "goodness! it'll snap and the _dragon_ will be broken!" cried jess, in alarm. but no such thing happened. instead, as the _dragon's_ powerful propeller blades "bit" into the air, the _golden butterfly_ obediently mounted the steep bank of the pond. five minutes later the pretty craft stood on dry land and the party of young aviators were eagerly making an investigation of the damage done. the cause of the fire was soon found. a tiny leak in the tank had allowed some gasoline to drip into the bottom of the chassis, or passenger carrier. collecting here, it was plain that a back fire from the carburetor had ignited it. neither of the girls could repress a shudder as they thought of what might have occurred had they been higher in the air and no convenient pond handy for them to drop into. in such a case the flames might have reached the gasoline tank before they could be extinguished and inevitably a fearful explosion would have followed. "i think you are the two luckiest girls in the world," declared roy solemnly, as he concluded his examination and announced his conclusions. naturally they fully agreed with him. chapter vii. a stop for the night. it was some two hours later that meadville received the greatest excitement of its career. people rushed out of stores and houses as the "flock" of aëroplanes came into sight. as they gazed down the young aviators felt a momentary regret that they had chosen a town in which to pass the first night of their motor flight. it appeared that they would get into difficulties when they attempted to make a landing. but almost simultaneously they spied a public park, which appeared to offer a favorable landing place. as soon as their intention of descending there became manifest, however, the crowd made a headlong rush for the spot. it was too late to seek some other location to alight even had there been one available. trusting to luck that the eager spectators would get out of their way the four aëroplanes began their spiraling descent. roy was first in his big biplane. as the ponderous, white machine ranged down close to the park the crowd became well-nigh uncontrollable. they swarmed beneath the big machine, despite roy's shouts of warning. skillfully as the boy manipulated the aircraft he could not check its descent once begun. "out of the way! i don't want to hurt you!" he shouted, as he dashed down. but the crowd, sheeplike in their stupidity, refused to budge. into the midst of them roy, perforce, was compelled to drive. once the throng perceived his intention, however, they scattered wildly. that is, all sought positions of safety but one man, a stout, red-faced individual, who appeared dazed or befuddled. he stood his ground, glaring foolishly at the sky ship. with a quick turn of his wrist roy swept the big biplane aside, but a wing tip brushed the stout man, toppling him over in a twinkling. by the time roy had stopped his machine the man was on his feet again, bellowing furiously. he was not hurt, but his face was contorted with anger. he pushed his way through the crowd toward the young aviator. "you young scoundrel!" he yelled, "i'll fix you for that! i'll--" "look out, here come the rest of them!" shouted the crowd at this juncture. nobody needed any warning this time. they fled in all directions as one after the other the _golden butterfly_, the _red dragon_ and the pretty, graceful _dart_ dropped to earth. "wa'al, look at them gals, will yer!" shouted a voice in the crowd. "what's the country coming to?" demanded another man. "gals gallivanting around like gol-dinged birds!" but the majority of the crowd took the pretty girl aviators to its heart. somebody set up a cheer. it was still ringing out when, to the huge relief of the embarrassed girls, the auto came rolling up with miss prescott and "the wren," as they still called the latter. the girls, leaving the boys to look after the aëroplanes, ran to the side of the car and were speedily ensconced in its roomy tonneau. "we'll see you at the hotel!" cried roy, as the car rolled off again, much to the disappointment of the crowd. two local constables came up at this juncture and helped the boys keep the crowd back from the machines. the throng seemed souvenir mad. many of them insisted on writing their names with pencils on the wings of the air craft. others would have gone further and actually stripped the aëroplanes of odd parts had they not been held back. "this is the last time we'll land in a town of this size," declared roy indignantly, as he helped the constables shove back an obstreperous individual who insisted on examining the motor of the _dart_. with the help of the constables a sheltering place for the machines was finally found. a livery stable that had gone out of business the week before was located across the street from the small park in which they had alighted. the owner of the property happened to be in the crowd and a bargain with him was soon struck. the aëroplanes were then trundled on their landing wheels into this shelter and the doors closed. roy, for a small sum, engaged a tall, gangling-looking youth, whose name was tam tammas, to guard the doors and keep off the inquisitive. this done, thoroughly tired out, the boys sought the hotel. like most towns of its size and importance meadville only boasted one hostelry worthy of the name. this place, the fountain house, as it was called, was a decent enough looking hotel and the young aviators were warmly welcomed. after supper, for in meadville nobody "dined," miss prescott and the girls sauntered out with the wren to obtain some clothing for the waif who had so strangely come into their possession. it was odd, but somehow they none of them even suggested giving up the queer little foundling to the authorities as had originally been their intention. instead, although none of them actually voiced it, it appeared that tacitly they had decided to keep the child with them. while they were gone on their errand of helpfulness roy and jimsy were seated on the porch of the hotel watching, with more or less languid interest, the inhabitants of the town passing back and forth. many of them lingered in front of the hotel, for aviators were not common objects in that part of the country, and already the party had become local celebrities. "i guess we'll go inside," said roy, at length, "i'm getting sick of being looked at as if i was some sort of natural curiosity." "same here," rejoined jimsy, "we'll go in and i'll play you a game of checkers." "you're on," was the response. but as the boys rose to go, or rather the instant before they left their seats, there came a heavy step behind roy and a gruff voice snarled: "what are you doing in that chair?" "sitting in it," responded roy, in not too pleasant a voice. the tone in which he had been addressed had aroused a hot resentment in him toward the speaker. turning he saw the same red-faced man whom he had been unfortunate enough to knock down. instantly his manner changed. he felt genuinely sorry for the accident and hastened to explain that such was the case. but a glowering glance was the only response he received. "you done it a-purpose. don't tell me," snarled the red-faced individual, "an' now you git right out uv that chair or--or i'll make you!" both boys stared at the man in amazement. his tone was coarse and bullying to a degree. "we are not occupying these chairs to your inconvenience," declared roy stoutly, "there are lots of others." he indicated several rockers placed at intervals along the hotel porch, and all empty. "that chair you're sitting in is mine," snapped the man, in response. "got a mortgage on it, eh?" smiled jimsy amiably. "i'll show you kids how much of a mortgage i've got on it," was the reply. it was just then that a lad of about roy's own age, but with a surly, hang-dog sort of look, emerged from the smoking-room of the hotel. "what's up, father?" he demanded, addressing the red-faced man. "why, dan, the kids have appropriated my chair." "oh, those flying kids. well, they'll see that they ain't everything around here," responded the lad; "i reckon jim cassell has some say here, eh, dad?" "i reckon so, son," grinned the red-faced man, in response to this elegant speech; "now, then, are you going to give up that chair or not?" "i was just leaving it when you came out," rejoined roy, who, by this time, was fairly boiling over. "under the present conditions, however, i think i shall continue to occupy it." "you will, eh?" snarled out dan cassell, "then i'll show you how to vacate it--so!" with the words he laid hands on the back of the chair and jerked it from under the young aviator. roy, caught entirely off his guard, was flung to the floor of the porch. he was up in a flash, but as he rose to his feet dan cassell, evidently excited by what he deemed a great triumph, aimed a savage blow at him. jimsy was rushing to his assistance but the red-faced man suddenly blocked his path. "hold off, son! hold off!" he warned, "unless you want to get the same dose." chapter viii. roy makes an enemy. in the meantime roy had skillfully avoided dan cassell's blow, and was aggressively on the defensive. he was a lad who did not care for fighting, but notwithstanding was a trained boxer. something of this seemed to dawn on dan cassell as the boy he sought to pummel dodged his attack with such cleverness. for a moment dan stood stock-still with doubled up fists and a scowl on his not unhandsome, though weak and vicious features. then, with a bellow, he rushed upon roy, who contented himself by sidestepping the furious onslaught. this appeared to enrage dan cassell the more. either he interpreted it as portraying cowardice, or else he deemed that he had his opponent at his mercy. at any rate, after an instant's pause he rushed at roy with both fists. it was the young aviator's opportunity. "look out!" he warned. the next instant the pugnacious dan cassell found himself upon his back, regarding a multitude of constellations. at almost precisely the same time jimsy's fist happened to collide with the point of the jaw of the fallen battler's father. "sorry; but i simply had to, you know," remarked the nonchalant jimsy, as the red-faced man found himself occupying a position not dissimilar to that of his son. both boys were heartily sorry for what had happened, the more so for the reason that at the very instant that both crestfallen bullies were scrambling to their feet the hotel door opened and several of the guests came out to ascertain the cause of the trouble. among them was jonas hardcastle, the proprietor of the place. "what's up? what's the trouble?" he demanded, in dismay, as he viewed the scene of the confusion. "it's those brats of aviators, or whatever they call themselves," bellowed cassell, who was purple with fury; "they attacked dan and me and assaulted us brutally." the landlord looked doubtingly at the man. then he turned to roy. "what are the facts?" he asked. roy told him unhesitatingly the whole truth. when he had concluded jonas hardcastle spoke. "you've been hanging around here too long, jim cassell," he said, in a voice that quivered with indignation; "now make yourself scarce, both you and your son. don't annoy my guests any more." cassell, nursing a spot on his jaw which was rapidly growing a beautiful plum color, lurched off without a word. his son followed. it was not until he reached the street that he spoke. then, in a voice that trembled from suppressed fury, he hissed out: "all right for you kids. you think you've played a smart trick on dan and me; but i'll fix you! just watch!" without uttering another syllable he slouched off into the gathering darkness, followed by his son, who bestowed a parting scowl on roy and jimsy. "i'm sorry that you had a row with them," remarked jonas hardcastle, as the pair vanished. "how's that?" inquired roy. "they forced it on us, and--" "i know. i know all about that," was the rejoinder, "but cassell is quite by way of being a politician hereabouts, and he might try to make it uncomfortable for you." "in what way?" demanded jimsy. "oh, many ways. those fellows have no scruples. to tell you the truth, boys, i guess you haven't heard the last of this." with this he left them, a prey to no very comfortable thoughts. "i'm half inclined to believe what he said," declared jimsy. "in just what way?" "why, about the harm this fellow cassell can do us. in every community like this you'll find one local 'pooh-bah' who runs things pretty much as he likes. they have satellites who will do just about as they're told." "you mean--" "that we'd better keep a good lookout on the aëroplanes. from my judgment of cassell i don't think he's got nerve enough to attack us directly, but he can wreak his vengeance on our machines if we don't watch pretty closely." "i'm inclined to think you're right. but don't say a word of all this to the girls. it might upset them. you and i will decide on a plan of action later on. to tell you the truth, i'm not any too sure of our newly acquired watchman, tam tammas." "nor i. we'll wait till the rest get back and then take a stroll down to that livery stable. seems funny, doesn't it, to stable aëroplanes in a livery stable?" "well, why not? wasn't pegasus, the first flying machine on record, a horse?" "humph; that's so," agreed jimsy, whose supply of classical knowledge was none too plentiful. it was not long after this that the girls returned. with them came the wren in a neat dress and new shoes, an altogether different looking little personage from the waif of the woods whom they had rescued at noon. "why, wren," cried peggy, "you are positively pretty. in a month's time we won't know you." "a month's time?" sighed the child; "am i going to stay with you as long as that?" miss prescott caught the wan little figure in her arms. "yes, and many months after that," she cried. roy and jimsy exchanged glances. "another member of the family," exclaimed roy; "if we go at this rate we'll have acquired an entire set of new sisters by the time we reach the big smokies." chapter ix. jimsy falls asleep. "anybody been around, tam?" roy asked the question, as later on that evening he and jimsy dropped around to the disused livery stable in accordance with their plan. tam shook his head. "nobody bane round," he rejoined, and then, after a moment's pause, "'cept yim cassell and his boy dan." "jim cassell and his son," echoed roy, "the very people we don't want around here. what did they want?" "they want know where you bane," rejoined the norwegian youth. "yes; and what did you tell them?" "i bane tell them i skall not know," responded tam. "and then?" "they bane ask me if ay have key by door." "oh, they did, eh? what did you say?" "i say i bane not have key." "then what did they do?" "they bane go 'way." "didn't say anything else?" "no, they must go." "said nothing about coming back?" "no." "all right, tarn, you can go home now. here's your money." "you bane want me no more?" "no; we'll watch here ourselves to-night. good night." "good night," rejoined tam, pocketing his money and shuffling off down the street. he had hardly gone two blocks when from the shadow of an elm-shaded yard the figure of dan cassell slipped out and intercepted him. "so you've been fired, eh?" he shot the question at the simple-minded norwegian lad with vicious emphasis. "no, i no bane fired; they bane tell me no want me more." "well, isn't that being fired? moreover, i can tell you that they've hired another fellow in your place." the norwegian youth's light blue eyes lit up with indignant fire. like most of his race he was keenly sensitive once aroused, and while he was quite agreeable to being dropped from his temporary job, he hated to think of being supplanted in it. crafty dan cassell was playing his cards well, for a purpose that will be seen ere long. "so they bane fire me," ejaculated tam. "that's the size of it. i guess you feel pretty sore, tam, don't you?" "no, they bane pay me wale; but i no like being fired." "i should think not. the idea of a man like you being dropped. what did they tell you when they let you go?" "that they bane watch place themselves." dan cassell smiled. his crafty methods had elicited something of real value after all. "did they say they were going to watch all night?" he asked. "yes," rejoined the norwegian, "they ask about you, too." "humph! what did they want to know?" "if you'd been round by stable and what i bane tale you." "what did you say?" "i tale them the truth. i say that you and your father bane by stable this evening." dan's face darkened. "you had no business to tell them anything," he snarled. then, with a sudden change of front: "see here, tam, do you want to make some money?" "sure, i bane like make money." "then come into the house a minute. dad and i want to talk to you." so saying dan took the norwegian by the arm and led him in through a gate in a whitewashed picket fence. beyond the fence was a fairly prosperous looking house, on the piazza of which lounged jim cassell smoking a cigar. "well, tam," he said, "lost your job?" the norwegian replied in the affirmative. "well, never mind, i've got another for you," replied jim cassell, in what was for him an unwontedly amiable tone; "can you go to work at once?" "ay bane work any time skol be," spoke the norwegian, and a puzzled expression flitted over his face as both cassells broke into what was to him an inexplicable fit of laughter at his words. in the meantime the boys had telephoned to the hotel that work on the aëroplanes would detain them till late. they did not wish to inform the girls that they were undertaking a night watch, as that would have led to all sorts of questions, and if their fears proved ungrounded they felt pretty sure of coming in for a lot of "joshing." they agreed to divide the night into two parts, jimsy watching till midnight and then awakening roy who would take up the vigil till dawn. this arrangement having been made they secured a light lantern from an adjacent hardware store and, entering the deserted livery stable, prepared to carry out their plans. with the canvas covers of the aëroplanes roy managed to fix up quite a comfortable bed on a pile of hay left in a sort of loft over the abandoned stable. as for jimsy, he made himself as comfortable as possible in the chassis of the _golden butterfly_, the seats of which were padded as luxuriously as those of a touring car. he had a book dealing with aeronautic subjects with him, and, drawing the lantern close to the aëroplane, he buried himself in the volume. in the meantime roy had rolled himself up in his canvas coverings and was sound asleep. for a long time jimsy read on. at first frequent footsteps passed the door of the stable, but as it grew later these ceased. folks went to bed early in meadville. long before midnight there was not a sound on the streets. jimsy read doggedly on. but he was painfully conscious of an almost irresistible desire to lie back and doze off, if only for a few seconds. the exciting events of the day had tired him out, nor was the book he was reading one calculated to keep his wits stirring. it was a technical work of abstruse character. jimsy's head began to nod. with a sharp effort he aroused himself only to catch himself dozing off once more. "see here, jim bancroft, this won't do," he sharply admonished himself, "you're on duty, understand? on duty! wake up and keep your eyes open." but try as he would tired nature finally asserted herself. jimsy's head fell forward, his eyes closed for good and he snored in right good earnest. he was sound asleep. it was about half an hour after he dozed off that a window in the rear of the stable framed a face. a crafty, eager face it was, as the yellow light of the lantern revealed its outlines. dan cassell, for it was he, gazed sharply about him. he swiftly took in the posture of the sleeping boy and a smile spread over his countenance. dropping from the ladder he had raised outside, he joined two figures waiting for him in the shadow of the livery barn. "it's too easy," he chuckled, "only one kid there and he's sound asleep. got everything ready?" "dey all bane ready, maister cassell," rejoined the slow, drawling voice of the norwegian tam. "now don't botch the job," warned the elder cassell, who was the third member of the party; "remember it means a lot of trouble for us if we're caught." "no danger of that, dad. come on, i'll go first and you and tam follow." "is the window open?" "no, but it slides back. it's an easy drop to the floor from it." "all right, go ahead. i'll be glad when the job's over. i'm almost inclined to drop out of it." "and let those kids get away with what they did? not much, dad. we'll give them a lesson they won't forget in a hurry. come on." he began climbing the ladder. behind him came his worthy parent, and tam formed the last member of the now silent procession. the norwegian carried a bulky package of some kind, the contents of which it would have been impossible to guess save that it gave out a metallic sound as tam moved with it. dan cassell reached the window, slid it noiselessly back in its grooves and then, crawling through, dropped lightly to the floor within. he was followed by his father and tam. but jimsy slept on. slept heavily and dreamlessly, while deadly peril crept upon him. chapter x. peggy's intuition. the movements of the invaders of the stable, which now housed the "winged steeds" of the young aviators, were mysterious in the extreme. the norwegian carried a tin can containing some sort of liquid which he was ordered to pour about the floor in the neighborhood of the aëroplanes. this done, dan cassell collected several scraps of litter and made quite a pile of it. "all ready now, i guess," he said, with what was meant as an attempt at a grin. but his lips were pale, and his forced jollity was a dismal failure. as for his father, he made no attempt to conceal his agitation. "dan, they may be burned alive," he faltered; "better call it all off." "not when we've gone as far as this with it," was the rejoinder; "give me a match." "dan!" "it's all right, dad. they'll wake in time." "but if not?" "then they'll have to take their medicine." with fingers that trembled as if their owner was palsied, jim cassell handed his son some matches. the latter took one, bent low over the pile he had collected and struck the lucifer. a yellow sputter of flame followed, and the next instant he was holding it to the pile of litter which had been previously soaked by the contents of the norwegian's can. but before he could accomplish his purpose and set fire to the pile of odds and ends saturated to double inflammability by the kerosene the norwegian had carried, there came a startling interruption. there was a knock at the door and a girlish voice cried: "roy! roy, let me in!" "furies!" exclaimed dan cassell under his breath. "it's one of those girls." "come on. let's get away quick!" exclaimed his father, trembling from nervous agitation. "not before i set a match to this," exclaimed dan cassell viciously. he touched the match to the pile and the flames leaped up. "now for our getaway," he cried, and the three fire-bugs ran for the window by which they had made their entrance. in the meantime a perfect fusillade of blows had been showered on the door outside. jimsy awoke just as the last of the three midnight intruders vanished through the window. his first instinct was a hot flush of shame over the feeling that he had betrayed his trust. then to his ears came the voice that had alarmed the cassells and their tool. "roy! jimsy! are you there?" "it's peggy!" gasped jimsy. "and jess," he added the next instant, and simultaneously there came the pounding of a stick on the door. "this is an officer of the law. open up at once." jimsy, dazed by his sleep, had not till then noticed the blazing pile of litter. now he did so with a quick cry of horror. the stuff was blazing up fiercely. already there was an acrid reek in the air. "the place is on fire!" he shouted. the next moment there came a violent assault on the door and the crazy lock parted from its rotten fastenings as a man attired in a police officer's uniform burst into the place. behind him came two wide-eyed frightened girls. the leaping flames lit up their faces vividly. "it's fire sure enough!" cried the police officer. "great scot, what's happening?" it was roy who shouted the question. he was peering down from the loft where he had been sleeping. the uproar had awakened him and in a jiffy he was among them. "quick! the fire extinguishers!" he cried, and jimsy, readily understanding, secured the flame-killing apparatus from the biplane and from the _red dragon_. he and roy, aided by the officer, fought the flames vigorously, and, luckily, were able to subdue them, though if it had not been for the as yet unexplained arrival of peggy and jess it is doubtful if they could have coped with the blaze. when it was all out peggy rushed into explanations. "something warned me that you were in danger," she exclaimed, "and i woke up jess and we found this officer and came down here." "what gift of second sight have you?" demanded roy, gazing at the smoking, blackened pile that had threatened the destruction of the inflammable premises. "i don't know. womanly intuition, perhaps. oh, roy!" the girl burst into a half-hysterical sob and threw her arms about her brother's neck. "you arrived in the nick of time, sis," he said, gently disengaging himself from her clasp, "a little more and--" he did not finish the sentence. there was no need for him to. "begorry, the ould place 'ud hev bin a pile of cinders in an hour's time," declared the policeman. it was jess's turn to give an hysterical little sob. roy turned to jimsy. "did you see anything? the place is reeking with kerosene. it was a plot to destroy the aëroplanes and perhaps ourselves." "i--i--" jimsy stammered. the words seemed to choke up in his throat. how was he to confess that he had failed in his trust--had slept while danger threatened? "well?" roy waited, plainly surprised. it was not like jimsy to hesitate and stammer in this way. at last it came out with a rush. "i--i--you'll never forgive me, any of you--i was asleep." "asleep! oh, jimsy!" there was a world of reproach in jess's voice. but peggy interrupted her. "how was it, jimsy?" she asked softly. "i don't know. i give you my word i don't know." jimsy's voice held a world of self-reproach. "i was reading," he went on, hurrying over the words as if anxious to get his confession over with, "that book of grotz's on monoplane navigation. i felt sleepy and--and the next thing i knew i woke up to hear you pounding on the door and shouting." "a good thing the young ladies found me," put in the policeman; "shure i was after laughing at them at first, but then, begorry, i decided to come along with them. it's glad i am that i did." "who can have done this?" asked roy, who had not a word of reproach for his chum, although jimsy had failed dismally in a position of trust. "begorry, they might have burned you alive!" cried the policeman indignantly. "no question about that," rejoined roy; "it was a diabolical plot. who could have attempted such a thing?" "wait till i call up and have detectives sent down here," said officer mccarthy. "i'm after thinking this is too deep for us to solve." nevertheless, each of that little group but the policeman had his or her own idea on the matter. chapter xi. a mean revenge! the result of the telephone call was a request to call at the police headquarters of the little town and give a detailed account of the affair. "gracious! i should think that the only way to get a clue would be to send a detective down here," exclaimed peggy, on receipt of this information. "we have our own ways of doing them things, miss," rejoined the policeman with dignity. then there being nothing for it but to obey instructions of the authorities, they all set out for the police station. they were half way there when jimsy recollected that they had left the aëroplanes unguarded. "'twill make no difference at all at all," declared the policeman; "shure it's too late for anyone to be about." "it wasn't too late for them to set that fire though," rejoined roy in a low voice. at police headquarters they were received by two sleepy-looking officials who questioned them at length and said they would be at the stable in the morning to hunt for clews. "why not go after them now, while the trail is hot?" inquired jimsy. "we have our own ways of doing these things, young man," was the reply, delivered with ponderous dignity. "well, we might as well go to bed and get a few hours' sleep anyhow," suggested roy; "i can hardly keep my eyes open. how about you, jimsy?" "i--i--i've had some sleep already you know," rejoined jimsy, reddening. thoroughly tired out from their long day and excitement, the party slept till late the next day. the first thing after breakfast plans for the continuance of the trip were discussed, and the day's program mapped out. this done, the girls and boys set out for the stable to look over the machines. they found a pompous-looking policeman on guard in front of the place, ostentatiously pacing up and down. on identifying themselves they were at once admitted however. the man explained that he had only been on guard for an hour or two, and that during that time nothing worthy of mention had occurred. while jimsy was talking to him roy and the others entered the stable. an instant later roy, too excited to talk, came rushing out of the dis-used livery barn. "what's up now, roy?" demanded jimsy, gazing at his chum, who for his part appeared to be too excited to get his words out. "there's only three!" gasped roy. "three what?" cried jimsy. "three aëroplanes," returned roy. "rubbish, you haven't got your eyes open yet." "i'm right, i tell you; come in and count them if you don't believe me." "roy is right," cried peggy, running up to the group; "the _golden butterfly_ has been stolen!" "stolen!" interjected jimsy. "that's right!" cried jess; "those stupid police people left the barn unguarded. whoever tried to set it on fire must have returned and stolen the _butterfly_." they regarded each other blankly. was this sky cruise that they had looked forward to with such eager anticipation to be nothing but a series of mishaps? "it's awful!" gasped peggy; "nothing but trouble since we started out." "d'ye think it was stolen?" asked the policeman with startling intelligence. "well, it didn't fly of its own accord," was peggy's rejoinder, delivered with blighting sarcasm. the patrolman subsided. "maybe we can find it yet," suggested jess. "i'd like to know how," put in jimsy disgustedly. "perhaps we can trace it. it must have been wheeled away." "ginger! that's so," cried roy, snapping his fingers; "it would leave an odd track too, wouldn't it?" "well there's no harm in trying to trace it," admitted jimsy, who appeared rather skeptical. "come on, then; get busy," urged roy eagerly. the next instant there came a cry from peggy. "i've struck the trail!" she cried. "where?" the word came in chorus. "here! look; you know the _butterfly_ had peculiar kind of tires. see, it was wheeled up the street in that direction." she pointed to where the village main thoroughfare ended in a country road. "i'm not after takin' much stock in that," remarked the policeman. "we won't bother you," rejoined roy rather heatedly; "i guess we won't wait till your local sherlock holmes gets on the trail, we'll follow it ourselves." "but who'll go?" the question came from jimsy. "we can't all go, that's certain," exclaimed bess. "tell you what we'll do, we'll count out," declared jess, her eyes dancing. "a good idea," hailed the others. "roy, you start it; but remember, not more than three can go." "why?" inquired peggy point blank. "because we'll have to take the car, and someone must be left to look after aunt sally and the aëroplanes," spoke roy, falling in with jimsy's plans. "well, come on and count out," urged jess. "yes, that's it. let's see who will be it," cried the others. "very well, if i can remember the rhyme," responded roy. "how does it go anyway?" "inte, minte," suggested jimsy. "oh, yes! that's it," responded roy. "i've got it now. inte, minte, cute corn, apple seeds and briar thorn, briar thorn and limber lock, three geese in a flock, one flew east and one flew west, one flew into a cuckoo's nest, o-u-t out, with a ragged dish clout, out!" ending with bess. "sorry for you, bess!" cried the lad, "but you're the first victim to be offered up." "oh, well, it's too hot to go chasing all over dusty country roads," declared bess bravely, although she would dearly have loved to go on the adventurous search for the missing aëroplane. one after another they were counted out till only roy, peggy and jimsy remained. "hurry up and let's get off," urged jimsy as the "elimination trials," as they might be termed, were concluded. "very well. we'll get the car--it's in the garage at the hotel--and incidentally, we might get a lunch put up also. it may be a long chase." the officer regarded them with frank amazement. "my! but you city folks rush things," he exclaimed. "i suppose they'll get busy on this case day after to-morrow," exclaimed roy disgustedly, as they hastened away. it was half an hour later that the big touring car, with roy at the wheel, rolled out of the hotel yard. jake had been told off to guard the livery stable and the aëroplanes while the rest remained with miss prescott, who was seriously agitated at the accumulation of troubles her party had met with since setting out. "i declare," she said, "i wish i was back at home where i could get a decent cup of tea and be free of worries." the trail of the aëroplane was not difficult to follow. it led down the village main street and thence along a country road till it came to a sort of cross roads. here it branched off and followed a by-road for a mile or so. at a gate in a hedge all signs failed however, although it was plain that the machine had been wheeled through the gap and taken across a field. beyond this field lay what appeared to be a wilderness of woods and bushes. "stumped!" exclaimed roy, as he brought the auto to a stop. chapter xii. the finding of the "butterfly." "well, what next?" asked jimsy. "make a search of those woods, i suppose," replied roy; "there's nothing else to do." "no, the trail has brought us here," replied peggy energetically; "we must make a determined effort to find the _butterfly_." "maybe they've damaged it so that we won't be able to do anything with it when we do get it," spoke jimsy presently. "whom do you mean by they?" asked roy. "as if you didn't know. is there any doubt in your mind that that fellow cassell is at the bottom of all this?" "not very much, i'll admit," replied roy; "i wonder if that accounts for the inactivity of the police." "in just what way?" "well, the fellow's a local politician and has a lot of 'pull'." "he _must_ have, to get away with anything like this," was jimsy's indignant outburst. "well, don't let us waste time speculating," put in peggy, in her brisk manner; "the thing to do now is to get back the _golden butterfly_." "you're right, peg," came from both boys. by this time they were out of the car, which they left standing at the roadside while they examined the vicinity for tracks. but the grass in the field was fairly long and no traces remained. yet, inasmuch as the tracks of the _butterfly_ ended at the gap in the hedge, it was manifest that that was the point at which it had been wheeled off the road. "what next?" asked jimsy, as it became certain that there was little use in searching for a trail in the meadow. "it's like looking for a needle in that proverbial haystack," struck in peggy. "in my opinion we need the patience of job and the years of old methuselah," opined jimsy. roy alone was not discouraged. "it can't be so very far off," he urged; "it stands to reason that they can't have come much further than this since midnight, supposing the machine to have been stolen about that hour." the others agreed with him. "we'll search all around here, including those woods," declared peggy. "well, they can't have taken it very far into the woods," declared jimsy; "the spread of its wings would prevent that." "that's so," agreed roy; "i think we are getting pretty 'warm' right now." "all i am afraid of is that they may have damaged it," breathed peggy anxiously. "it would be in line with their other tactics," agreed roy; "men who would try to burn down a stable with two boys in it, just to obtain revenge for a fancied insult or injury, are capable of anything." without further waste of time they crossed the meadow and came to the edge of the wood. at the outskirts of the woods the trees grew thinly and it was plain that it would have been possible to wheel an aëroplane into their shadow, despite the breadth of its wing-spread. they passed under the outlying trees and presently emerged into a small, open space, in the midst of which was a hut. just beyond this hut was a sight that caused them to shout aloud with joy. there, apparently unharmed, stood the missing aëroplane. "hurray!" shouted roy, dashing forward. the others were close on his heels. in their excitement they paid little or no attention to the surroundings. it might have been better for them had they done so. as they dashed across the clearing two male figures slipped off among the thicker trees that lay beyond the open space and the hut. a brief examination showed them that the aëroplane was undamaged. there were a few scratches on it, but beyond that it appeared in perfect condition. "we'll fly back," declared jimsy to peggy; "roy can run the auto home." "that's agreeable to me," responded roy; "but suppose we examine the vicinity first. we might get a clew as to the rascals who are responsible for this." "that's true," agreed jimsy. "then suppose we start with the hut first." they accepted this proposition eagerly. the hut was a substantial looking building with a padlock on the door. but the portal stood wide open, the padlock hanging in a hasp. "what if anyone pounces on us?" asked peggy in rather a scared tone. "no fear of that," replied roy, "the place is plainly unoccupied." they entered the hut and found it to be as primitive inside as its exterior would indicate. a table and two rude chairs stood within. these, with the exception of a rusty cook stove in one corner, formed the sole furnishings. there was not even a window in the place. "nothing much to be found here," declared roy after a cursory examination; "i guess this shack was put up by lumbermen or hunters. it doesn't seem to have been occupied for a long time." "i guess the men who took the aëroplane must have been pretty familiar with the place though," opined jimsy. "no doubt of that," replied roy, "but that doesn't give us any clew to their identity beyond bare suspicions." "yes, and suspicions aren't much good in law," chimed in peggy, "they--good gracious!" the door closed suddenly with a bang. before jimsy could spring across the room to open it there came a sharp click. "somebody's padlocked it on the outside!" he cried. "and we're prisoners!" gasped peggy. "yes, and without any chance of getting out, either," declared jimsy; "there's not even a window in the place." "well this is worse and more of it," cried roy. "who can have done that?" "the same people that stole the _golden butterfly,"_ declared peggy. "hark!" outside they heard rapidly retreating footsteps, followed by a harsh laugh. "let us out!" shouted roy. "you can stay there till judgment day, for all i care," came back a hoarse, rasping voice; "you kids were too fresh, and now you're getting what's coming to you." chapter xiii. prisoners in the hut. it was almost pitch dark within the hut. only from a crack under the door could any light enter. for an instant after the taunting of the voices of the men who had locked them in reached their ears, the trio of youthful prisoners remained silent. peggy it was who spoke first. "well, what's to be done now?" she demanded. "we've got to get out of here," responded jimsy, with embarrassing candor. "that's plain enough," struck in roy; "but how do you propose to do it?" "i don't know; let's look about. maybe there's a chimney or something." "there's no opening larger than that one where the stove pipe goes through. i've noticed that already," responded roy. "phew! this _is_ a fix for fair." "i should say so; but kicking about it won't help us at all. let's make a thorough investigation." in the darkness they groped about, but could discover nothing that appeared to hold out a promise of escape. the two boys shook the door violently; but it was firm on its hinges. next roy proposed to cut a way through it with his pocket knife. "we'd be starved to death by the time you cut through that stuff," declared jimsy. in proof of this he kicked the door, and the resulting sound showed that it was built of solid wood without any thin panels which might be cut through. "what next?" peggy asked the question as the two perspiring lads stood perplexed without speaking or moving. "jiggered if i know," spoke jimsy; "can't you or roy think of anything?" "we might try to batter the door down with that table," suggested roy. "it's worth trying. we've got to get out of here somehow." the two boys picked up the heavy, roughly made table and commenced a violent assault on the door. but although they dented it heavily, and sent some splinters flying, the portal held its own. at length they desisted from pure weariness. the situation looked hopeless. "it looks pretty bad," spoke jimsy. "it does indeed," agreed roy. "peggy, i wish we hadn't brought you along." "and why, pray, roy prescott?" "oh, because--because, well, this isn't the sort of thing for a girl." "well, i guess if my brother can stand it i can," rejoined the girl, pluckily and in a firm voice. "well, there's no use minimizing the fix we're in," declared roy. "this is a lonesome bit of country. it may be a week before anyone will come around. we've just got to get out, that's all there is to it." "i wish you'd solve the problem then," sighed jimsy; "it's too much for me." "i'll make another search of the premises, maybe we can stumble across something that may aid us. at any rate, it will give us something to do and keep our minds off the predicament we are in." roy struck a match, of which he had a plentiful supply in his pockets. as the yellow flame sputtered up in the semi-gloom it showed every corner of the small hut. but it did not reveal anything that promised a chance to gain their liberty. all at once, just as the light was sputtering out, peggy gave a cry. her eye had been caught by a glistening metal object in one corner of the hut. "what is it?" asked roy. "a gun--a shot-gun standing in that corner over there." "huh!" sniffed jimsy, "a lot of good that does us." "on the contrary," declared peggy stoutly, "if it's loaded it may serve to get us free." "i'm from missouri," declared jimsy enigmatically. "what's your idea, sis?" asked roy, who knew that peggy's ideas were usually worth following up. "i remember reading only a short time ago of a man trapped much as we are who escaped by blowing off the lock of his prison with a gun he carried," replied peggy; "maybe it would work in our case." "maybe it would if--" rejoined roy. "if what?" "if the gun was loaded, which is most unlikely." "well, try it and see," urged peggy. "yes, do," echoed jimsy; "peggy's plan sounds like a good idea. maybe some hunter left it here and the shells are still in it." "no harm in finding out anyway," declared roy. he struck another match and picked up the gun. it was an antique looking weapon badly-rusted. but on opening the breech he uttered a cry of joy. "good luck!" he exclaimed, "two shells,--one in each barrel." "well, put it to the test," urged jimsy. "all right. if this fails, though, i don't know what we'll do." "don't worry about that now. try it." "i'm going to. don't get peevish." roy crossed the room to the door. raising the gun to his shoulder he placed the muzzle about opposite to where he thought the padlock must be located. "look out for a big noise, sis," he warned. peggy gave a little scream and raised her hands to her ears. she disliked firearms. "ready?" sang out jimsy. "all ready," came the reply. "then fire!" simultaneously with jimsy's order came a deafening report. in that confined space it sounded as if a huge cannon had been fired. roy staggered back under the "kick" of the heavy charge. "once more," he announced. again a sonorous report sounded, but this time a section of the door was blown right out of the framework. the daylight streamed in through it. "now then for the test," cried roy. "come on, jimsy." the two boys placed their shoulders to the door. with a suddenness that was startling, it burst open, and they faced freedom. the lock had been fairly driven from its hold by the twice repeated charge of shot. the young aviators were free once more. but it remained to be seen if the men who wished them harm had wrought their vengeance on the _golden butterfly_. chapter xiv. what's to be done with the wren? the _golden butterfly_, as an examination proved, had not been damaged during their imprisonment in the hut. evidently, the men who had slammed the door and padlocked it had made off at top speed as soon as they had completed what they hoped would be a source of sore trouble to the young aviators. "and now we'll fly back as agreed," declared peggy merrily. her spirits, almost down to zero in the hut, had recovered themselves marvellously in the fresh open air. she was radiant. "i declare that the stay in the hut has done you good," declared jimsy, looking at her admiringly. "maybe it has--by contrast," returned peggy. "like a sea trip," put in roy. "i've heard that people who suffer from sea sickness are so much relieved when they get ashore that they imagine their good spirits are due to a change in their condition." "well, that applies to me," returned peggy; "i didn't think we'd get out of that hut so easily. how do you suppose that gun came to be there?" "the hunters who use the hut must have left it there," rejoined roy; "i wonder if they'll ever know how useful it was to us." "more likely they'll be mad when they find that the lock is blown off the door," laughed jimsy. "well, so-long, folks, i'm going to start back in the auto," declared roy. "we'll beat you into town," challenged jimsy. "more than likely, if the _golden butterfly_ is doing her best," was the rejoinder. ten minutes later the two machines were racing back to meadville at almost top speed. of course the speedy _golden butterfly_ won, but then a vehicle of the air does not have to contend with the obstacles that a land conveyance does. they found miss prescott almost on the verge of hysterics. a garbled version of the events of the night had been brought to her and this, coupled with the long absence of the three young folks, had made her extremely nervous. "i declare, it seems as if you just can't keep out of trouble," she said. "well, it actually does seem so, i admit," confessed peggy; "but we promise to be very good for the rest of the trip." "and never trouble trouble till trouble troubles us," chanted jimsy airily. "that's all very well, but you keep me continually in suspense as to what you'll do next," almost wailed miss prescott. "we set out for a quiet trip and encounter nothing but troubles--" "adventures, aunt sally," laughingly corrected roy; "what is life without adventures?" "well, i'm sure i don't know what young people are coming to," sighed miss prescott with resignation. "there's another thing, what are we to do with this little wren?" "we can't leave her here, that's certain," declared peggy with vehemence. "no, indeed," echoed jess and bess, who were of the council. "then what are we to do with her?" "just tote her along, i suppose," rejoined peggy; "poor little thing, she doesn't take up much room; besides, jess thinks she's an heiress." they all laughed. "you must have had an overdose of laura jean libby," declared roy. "roy prescott, you behave yourself," cried jess, flushing up; "besides, she has a strawberry mark on her left arm." "my gracious, then she surely is a missing heiress," exclaimed jimsy teasingly; "all well-regulated missing heiresses have strawberry marks and almost always on their left arm." it was at this juncture that a knock came at the door. a bell boy stood outside. "a gentleman to see you, sir," he said, handing roy a card. on it was printed: "mr. james kennedy, detective, meadville police station." "goodness, a real detective!" exclaimed jess excitedly; "let's see him." "you won't be much impressed i'm afraid," rejoined roy with a smile at his recollection of the meadville sleuths. "why, doesn't he wear glasses, have a hawk-like nose and smoke a pipe?" inquired bess. "and hunt up missing heiresses?" teasingly struck in jimsy. "no, he's a very different sort of person. but hush! he's coming now." a heavy tread sounded in the hall and mr. james kennedy, detective of the meadville police force, stood before them. as jimsy had said, he was not impressive as to outward appearance, although his fat, heavy face, and rather vacant eyes, might have concealed a giant intellect. "i've investigated the case of the attempted burning of the stable last night," he began. "yes," exclaimed roy eagerly. "have you any suspicions as to who did it?" the man shook his head. "as yet we have no clews," he declared, "and i don't think we'll get any." "that's too bad," replied roy, "but let me tell you something that may help you." the lad launched into a description of their adventures of the morning. "that hut belongs to luke higgins, a respectable man who is out west at present," said the detective when roy had finished. "he uses it as a sort of hunting box in the rabbit shooting season. he couldn't have had anything to do with it." "i'd like to know his address so that i could write and thank him for leaving that gun there," declared peggy warmly. the detective shook his head solemnly. "i reckon you young folks had better stop skee-daddling round the country this way," he said with heavy conviction; "you'll only get into more trouble. flying ain't natural no more than crowing hens is." with this he picked up his hat, and, after assuring them that he would find a clew within a short time, he departed, leaving behind him a company in which amusement mingled with indignation. in fact, so angry was roy over the stupidity or ignorance of the meadville police, that he himself set out on a hunt to detect the authors of the outrages upon the young aviators. the sole result of his inquiry however was to establish the fact that both cassells had left town, closing their house and announcing that they would be gone for some time. as there was nothing further to be gained by remaining in meadville, the entire party, after lunch, set out once more, a big crowd witnessing the departure of the aërial tourists. they flew fast, and as the roads were excellent the auto had no difficulty in keeping up with them. on through the afternoon they soared along, sometimes swooping low above an alluring bit of scenery and again heading their machines skyward in pure exuberance of spirits. their troubles at meadville forgotten, they flew their machines like sportive birds; never had any of them experienced more fully the joy of flight, the sense of freedom that comes from traveling untrammeled into the ether. they had passed above a small village and were flying low, those in the auto waving to them, when peggy, in the _golden butterfly_, gave a sudden exclamation. "oh, look," she shouted, "a flock of sheep, and right in the path of the auto." at that moment all of them saw the sheep, a large flock, headed by a belligerent looking ram with immense horns. jake, who was driving the car, slowed up as he approached the flock. the woolly herd, huddled together helplessly, made no effort to get out of the road. behind them a man and a boy shouted and yelled vigorously, but with no more effect than to bunch the animals more squarely in the path of the advancing car. all at once, just as the car was slowed down to almost a walking pace, a big ram separated himself from the flock and actually rushed for the front seat of the car. jake uttered a yell as the woolly creature gave him a hard butt, knocking him out of his seat. but this wasn't all. by some strange freak the animal had landed in the car in a sitting posture. now the young aviators roared with laughter to behold the creature seated in jake's forcibly vacated place. its hoofs rested on the driving wheel. forward plunged the car, its queer driver with his feet wedged in the spokes of the steering wheel. aloft the flock of young aviators roared with laughter at the sight. it was the oddest experience they had yet had--this spectacle of a grave-looking, long-horned ram driving an auto, while jake prudently kept out of reach of those horns. as for miss prescott and the wren, they cowered back in the tonneau in keen alarm. "oh!" cried peggy suddenly, "there comes a runabout; that ram will surely collide with it!" a runabout coming in the opposite direction dashed round a corner of the country road at this juncture. the driver was a young girl, but she was veiled and her features could not be seen under the thick face covering. apparently the ram saw the other car coming, for the animal actually appeared to make a halfway intelligent effort to steer the car out of the road. for her part the girl in the runabout swerved her car from side to side in a struggle to avoid a collision, which appeared inevitable. "stop it!" shrieked bess; "she'll be killed." chapter xv. a rambunctious ram. the ram evidently saw the other car coming; it tried to leap out but its hoofs were jammed in the spokes of the steering wheel. before jake could pick himself up from the floor of the front part of the car there came a loud shriek from the runabout. it was echoed by miss prescott and the wren. crash! the two cars came together with a fearful jolt. the eyes of the young aviators aloft were fixed on the scene. they saw the large car strike the runabout and crumple its engine hood. peggy gave a scream. the ram, jolted out of its seat by the force of the collision, fell out to one side, allowing jake to resume control of the wheel. but the runabout! it was ditched, its unfortunate occupant being pitched headlong into a ditch at the side of the road. down swept the aëroplanes, and there was a wild rush to the rescue. peggy, jess and bess ran to the side of the injured occupant of the strange runabout. the boys divided themselves, attending to everything. "roy! roy! hurry, she's unconscious!" the cry came from peggy as she rushed to the side of the young motorist. roy was not far off, and, at his sister's cry, he hastened to her side. peggy had the girl's head in her lap. "get water!" she cried. but jimsy was already on hand with a collapsible aluminum cup full of water from a near by spring. "oh, the poor dear," sighed peggy, "to think that our fun should have--" the strange girl opened her eyes. "who are you?" she exclaimed. "where is my machine?" "never mind for a minute," spoke peggy, seeing that jimsy and jake were trying to drag the machine out of the ditch, "we'll fix it, never fear." "oh, my head!" groaned the girl. "that pesky ram," exploded roy angrily; "let me help you up into the road, you'll be more comfortable." "oh, thank you, i can stand," came faintly from the injured girl. "i--am--much better now. what happened?" "why a sort of volunteer driver was experimenting with our car, and i guess he made a mistake in driving," smilingly explained roy. "oh, that ram!" cried the girl half hysterically. "i thought i had a nightmare at first." "i don't blame you," smiled peggy, "seeing a ram driving a motor car is apt to give one such ideas." "are you really better?" asked jess sympathetically as she came up. "peggy, get my smelling salts out of the traveling bag!" cried miss prescott anxiously. the accident had disturbed her sadly. the only unperturbed one in the party was jake. he took things with philosophical calm. "knew more trouble was comin'," said he, and contented himself by dismissing the situation with that. "i've got good news for you," said jimsy, coming up; "your car isn't hurt a bit." "oh, good!" cried the girl, clasping her hands and flushing. her veil was raised now and they saw that she was very blonde, very pretty and just now very pale. "my, what a rambunctious ram!" punned roy; "he ramified all over, didn't he?" "gracious, for a time i thought i was seeing things!" gasped the girl, who was seated on a tufted hummock of grass at the side of the road. "and then you felt them," laughed jimsy. "that's the way such things run." they all laughed. soon after, roy, jimsy and jake dragged the small runabout out of the ditch. in the meantime peggy had introduced herself and jess to the young girl. the latter's name was lavinia nesbitt. she lived not far from the scene of the accident, and had been taking a jaunt in her machine. the runabout had been rescued, and the whole party introduced and talking merrily when jess set up a cry. "goodness! here comes that ram again!" down the road, with the two sheep drivers at its heels, the beast was indeed coming. it advanced at a hard gallop, with head lowered and formidable horns ready for a charge, into the midst of the group. "look out for him!" yelled the sheep herders. they needed no second injunction. all skipped adroitly out of the path of the oncoming beast, which was rushing on like a whirlwind. jimsy proved equal to the emergency. from his aëroplane he took the rope which had already done good service in rescuing the _golden butterfly_ from the pond. he formed it into a loop--the lariat of the western plains. "now we've got him!" he exclaimed; "that is, if we are careful. but watch out!" "no danger of that," responded peggy, from the vantage of the tonneau of the car; "but how are you going to rope him?" "watch!" jimsy began swinging his loop in ever widening circles. the ram was now within a few feet of him. "oh, the _dart_!" shrieked bess; "he'll go right through it!" indeed it did appear as if the maddened animal would. but just as there are many slips between cup and lip so there are many slips between the ram and the aëroplane. just as it appeared that he would plow his way right through the delicate fabric, jimsy hurled his loop. it settled round the animal's horns. planting his heels in the ground jimsy held tight to the rope. the next minute he "snubbed" it tight and the ram lost its feet and rolled over and over in the dust. jake and roy rushed in and completed the job of tying the creature. "goodness, jimsy, you're a regular broncho buster!" cried peggy admiringly. "oh, i learned to do some tricks with a rope with the horse hunters out in nevada," was the response. but careless as his manner was, jimsy's eyes glowed with triumph. it was plainly to be seen that he was delighted with his success. just then the two sheep drivers came running up. the girls looked rather alarmed. suppose they should blame them for trying to kidnap the ram. "i'll do the talking," declared roy; "if you said anything, jimsy, there might be a row." "all right," laughed jimsy, regarding his "roped and tied captive." "i suppose you are an expert on dealing with ram owners." "well, i'm on to their mental ramifications," laughed roy. the sheep driver, an elderly man, accompanied by a youth, came up to them now. he touched his hat civilly as he approached. "good afternoon. no one hurt, i hope," he said. the girls looked greatly relieved. after all, the man was not rude or angry as they had feared. "oh, no, thank you," cried jess, before roy or jimsy could open their mouths. "i hope he isn't though." "hurt!" exclaimed the ram's owner, "why you couldn't hurt him with a steam hammer. why, day 'afore yesterday the blame thing went for my wife. hoofs and horns--yes, sir! most knocked her down, he did. i'll fix him." "what's his name?" asked bess. "hannibal," said the man, without the flicker of a facial muscle. "i should think cannonball would be a better name for him," struck in jimsy, with that funny, serious face he always assumed when 'joshing'. "yes, sir, i guess it _would_ be more appropriate at that," assented the man. he looked at the disabled machine. "busted?" he asked with apparent concern. "to some extent," rejoined roy, "only, except for that engine hood being dented there doesn't appear to be much the matter with it." "glad to pay if there be," said the sheep driver. "i'm going ter git rid of ther pesky critter. he's cost me a lot in damage suits already." "why don't you put him on the stage as the boxing ram, or something like that?" inquired jimsy. "might be a good scheme," said the man, as if considering the proposal seriously. "mary had a little ram--" laughed jimsy; who was thereupon told not to be "horrid." "why don't you box the nasty thing's ears for riding in our car?" asked roy of peggy. "i'd like to do something, the saucy thing," declared peggy with vehemence. "tell you what! let's buy him." the suggestion came from jimsy. "yes, and have his skin made up into an auto robe," suggested roy. "if you boys aren't ridiculous," cried peggy; "i want to forget the incident, and so i'm sure does lavinia," the name of the girl who had been spilled out of her machine. "you may be sure i do," she declared with emphasis. "i was never so scared in my life." "want to buy him?" asked the man, grasping at a chance of selling an animal that had already placed him in some embarrassing positions. "how much do you want?" asked roy, more as a joke than anything else. "three dollars," said the man. "there you are, girls! who'll bid? who'll bid? this fine young ram going at a sacrifice." jimsy imitated an auctioneer, raising his voice to a sharp pitch. chapter xvi. an invitation to race. it is almost needless to say that the purchase was not consummated. the girls raised a chorus of protest. the "nasty thing" was the mildest of the epithets they applied to the beast. "well, i don't know. i thought we might have his skin done into a robe. we could give it as a prize to the girl that makes the best record on this motor flight," suggested jimsy. "i wish you'd take him up a thousand feet and drop him," declared the unfortunate ram's owner. "poor thing! he only acted according to his nature," defended peggy; "let him loose and he'll go back to the flock." "not him," declared his owner; "he'd only raise more cain. better let him be." but the girls raised a chorus of protest. it was a shame to leave the poor thing tied up, and they insisted that he be let loose. "all right, if you kin stand it i kin," grinned the man. he and the boy bent over the captive ram and cast him loose. the beast struggled to his feet, and for an instant stood glaring about him out of his yellowish eyes that gleamed like agates. but it was only for an instant that he remained thus. suddenly he lowered his head and without more preliminaries dashed right at the _golden butterfly_. "gracious, he's a game old sport!" yelled jimsy; "hasn't had enough of it yet, eh?" right at the _butterfly_ the ram rushed. reaching it, with one bound he was in the chassis. "now we'll get him," whispered the owner of the ram. "i told you if he was let go he'd start cutting up rough." "well, you surely proved a good prophet," laughed jimsy. "now we've got to catch him," said the man. "how?" whispered jimsy. "someone must lasso him as you did before. easy now. don't scare him or he might do damage." the ram was seated in the aëroplane for all the world as if he was a scientific investigator of some sort. he paid no attention whatever to those who were creeping up on him, jimsy with his rope in his hand, the loop trailing behind him all ready for action. "this is more fun than a deer hunt!" declared roy. "than a bull fight, you mean," retorted jimsy; "this creature gives the best imitation of a wild bull i ever saw." they all laughed. the ram certainly had given a realistic interpretation of a savage andalusian fighter. "now then," whispered the sheep driver as they drew near. jimsy's rope swirled and settled about the ram's horns. but the startled beast was due to give them another surprise. hardly had jimsy's rope fallen about it when with a snort it leaped clean in the air and out of the aëroplane. it tore like an express train straight at jimsy. before the boy could get out of its path "biff!" the impact had come. jimsy arose into the atmosphere and described a distinct parabola. he landed with a bump in a clump of bushes, while mr. ram rushed off down the road to join his flock. "haw! haw! haw!" roared the sheep man; "ain't hurt, be you?" "no; but i've a good mind to sue you for damages," rejoined jimsy, picking himself out of the clump of brush; "you've no right to drive an animal like that around the country without labeling him 'dynamite. dangerous'." "guess i will, too," said the man, who appeared to think well of the suggestion; "he sure will get me in a pile of trouble one of these days." he raised his hat and strode off, followed by the boy. in the distance the ram was capering about among the other sheep. jimsy brushed the dust off himself and then looked about him. "anybody laughing?" he demanded suspiciously. they all shook their heads, the girls biting their lips to avoid smiling. "all right then, i suggest that we get out of here right away; a tiger's liable to come striding out of those woods next." "yes; we'd better be getting along; millbrook, our next stop, is several miles off," said peggy, consulting the map. no further time was lost in resuming their rapid flight. in the distance, as the flock of aëroplanes arose, the sheep man waved his hat and shouted his adieus. millbrook was reached that evening just at dusk. it proved to be a fair-sized town, and the aëroplanes excited as much curiosity there as they had in meadville--more so, in fact, for, from some flaring posters, it appeared that an aëroplane exhibition and race had been arranged for the next day by a traveling company of aviators. that evening, at the hotel, a deputation of citizens waited on the boys and asked them if they would not prolong their stay and take part in the air sports. the mayor, whose name was jasper hanks, mentioned a prize of five hundred dollars for an endurance flight as a special inducement. the lads said they would think things over and report in the morning. their real object in delaying their decision was, of course, to consult the girls about appearing. peggy, jess and bess went into raptures over the idea, and miss prescott's consent was readily obtained. "i'll be glad to rest for a day after all our exciting times," she declared, "and i mean to add to wren's outfit too." "oh, how good you are to me," sighed the odd little figure, nestling close to her benefactress. "tush! tush, my dear! i'm going to make a wonderful girl out of you," beamed the kindly lady. descending to the office to buy some postcards, the boys found, lounging about the desk, a stoutish man with a rather dissipated face, puffy under the eyes and heavy about the jaws. a bright red necktie and patent-leather boots with cloth tops accentuated the decidedly "noisy" impression he conveyed. as the boys came down he eyed them sharply. then he addressed them. "my name's lish kelly," he said. "i'm manager of the united aviators' exhibition company. we're showing out at the city park tomorrow. i understand that you kids have been asked to butt in." "we've been asked to participate, if that's what you mean," rejoined roy rather sharply. the fellow's manner was offensive and overbearing. "well, see here, you stay out," rejoined the man, shaking a fat forefinger on which glistened a diamond ring of such proportions as to make it dubious if it boasted a genuine stone. "you stay out of it," he repeated. roy and jimsy were almost dumfounded. the man's tone was one of actual command. "why? why should we stay out of it?" demanded roy. "the mayor of the town has asked us to take part," came from jimsy; "what have you got to do with it?" "it's this way," said the man in rather a less overbearing way than he had hitherto adopted; "we're going about the country giving flights. the city gives us the park in this town and we get so much of the receipts. but we rely on winning the prizes, see. now if you kids butt in, why you might win some of them and that knocks my profit out. get me?" "i understand you, if that's what you mean," rejoined roy; "but i still fail to see why we should not compete if we want to." the man placed his hand on the boy's shoulder impressively. "'cos if you do it'll make trouble for you, sonny." "who'll make it?" flashed back roy indignantly. "i will, son, and i'm some trouble maker when i start anything along them lines, take it from me." he turned on his heel, stuck his cigar at a more acute angle in the side of his mouth, and strode off, leaving the two boys dumfounded. "well, what do you make of that?" demanded roy, as soon as his astonishment had subsided a trifle. "just this, that mr. lish kelly thinks he can run this thing to suit himself." "what will we do about it?" "for my part i wanted to compete before. i desire to more than ever now." "same here." "maybe he was only bluffing after all." "maybe; but just the same i wouldn't trust him not to try to do us some harm. as he says, his main profits come from winning the prizes offered by the different communities." "humph! well, so far as that goes, i don't see why that need keep us out of it." "nor i; but we've had troubles enough, and i don't want willingly to run into any more." "nor i. well, let's sleep on it. we'll decide in the morning." "that's a good idea." the two lads went up to bed and slept as only healthy lads can. the next morning dawned bright and clear. there was hardly any wind. it was real "flying" weather. the aëroplanes had been sheltered in a big shed belonging to the hotel. before breakfast the boys went out and looked them over. all were in good shape. as they were coming out of the shed they were hailed by no less a personage than mayor hanks. "well," said he, "are you going to fly?" "we think of doing so," said roy, hesitating a little. he wanted to speak of the conduct of lish kelly, but on second thought he decided not to; the man might merely have had a fit of bad temper on him. his threats might have been only empty ones. "if you're going to fly i have got some entry blanks with me," said the mayor. "i wish you'd sign 'em." he drew out a bunch of blue papers with blanks for describing the name of the machine, its power, driver and other details. this decided the boys. "all right, we'll enter all our machines," said roy; "let us go into the writing room and we'll sign the entry blanks." "good for you," cried the mayor delightedly; "you'll be a big drawing card, especially the young ladies. i never heard of gals flyin', although, come to think of it, why shouldn't they?" in the writing room they concluded the business. when it was done all the machines had been entered in every contest, including an altitude one. "we start at ten sharp, so be there," admonished the mayor as he departed, highly pleased at having secured quite a flock of young aviators at no cost at all. it was as his figure vanished, that lish kelly crossed the writing room. he had been sitting in a telephone booth, and leaving the door a crack open had heard every word that had passed. he greeted the boys with an angry scowl. "so you ain't going to stay out?" he said gruffly, as he passed. "all right; look out for squalls!" chapter xvii. the twisted spark plug. "gracious, are we in for more trouble?" jimsy looked blankly at roy; but the latter only laughed at his chum's serious face. somehow, viewed in the bright light of early day, lish kelly's threats did not appear nearly as formidable as they had over night. "nonsense; what harm can he do us anyhow? we're going to go into this race, and we're going to win too. just watch us." "going to tell the girls anything about kelly and his remarks?" "no; what good would that do? it would only scare them." "that's so, too; but just the same i didn't like the look of kelly's face when he came through." "he looked to me like a bulldog that had swallowed a baby's boot and didn't like the taste of the blacking on it," laughed roy. at this juncture the girls came into the room. all were radiant and smiling in anticipation of the day's sport. "well, we've been and gone and done it," announced roy. "done what?" demanded peggy. "signed the paperrr-r-r-s," was the rejoinder, rendered with great dramatic effect. he waved the duplicate entry blanks above his head. "let's see them," begged jess. "all right. look what i've let us in for!" "why--why--good gracious, roy, you've got us down for everything," gasped peggy. "that's right, all the way across from soup to nuts," struck in the slangy jimsy. they all laughed. the color rose in the girls' faces. "if only we can win some of them," cried jess. "well, the machines are all in fine shape. if we don't win it will be because the other fellows have better machines." "where are the aviation grounds?" inquired bess. "at the city park, about a mile out of town to the south. we can get to it by looking down at the trolley tracks," said roy, who had consulted the mayor on this point. "then you are going to fly out there?" asked miss prescott, who was also by this time a party to the conference. "of course; and, by the way, we ought to be getting out there pretty soon; i want to be looking over the grounds and selecting the best places for landing and so on," said roy. "well, please don't get into any more scrapes," sighed miss prescott; "what with gipsies, firebugs and rams, our trip has been quite exciting enough for me." the boys exchanged glances. if the man kelly tried to carry out his threats things might be more exciting yet, they thought. but both kept their knowledge to themselves. it was arranged that miss prescott should motor out to the city park. soon thereafter the young aviators placed finishing touches on their machines, and while a curious crowd gathered they took to the air. "looks just like a flock of pigeons," said a man in the crowd, as they climbed skyward quite closely bunched. "it sure does," agreed his companion, "but them things is prettier than any flock of pigeons i ever see." and this opinion was echoed by many of the throng. at any rate everyone who saw the aëroplanes start made up his or her mind to pay a visit to the park and see some more extended flights, so that mayor hanks' prediction was verified. as the young aviators hovered above city park for a short space of time, and then dropped earthward, a veritable sensation was created. from a row of "hangars" mechanicians and aviators came running. one or two aviators who were aloft practicing "stunts," dropped swiftly to earth. lish kelly's troupe was a large one, consisting of five men and one woman flyer, the wife of carlos le roy, a cuban aviator. outside the grounds several of the frugal individuals who desired to see the flights without paying admission also watched as the quintette of strange aëroplanes dropped to earth. one by one the graceful craft of the air settled to the ground, and the young aviators alighted. members of the arrangement committee hastened to their sides, shaking hands warmly and thanking them for their interest in the coming contests. the kelly aviators gazed curiously, some of them resentfully, at the newcomers. they had all the professional's antipathy and jealousy of amateur performers. as the arrangement committee bustled off after telling our friends to make themselves perfectly at home, pepita le roy came up to them. she was a handsome woman, in a foreign way, with large, dark eyes and an abundance of raven black hair. she was rather flashily dressed and walked with a sort of swagger that in a vague way reminded peggy of "carmen." "so you are zee girl aviators," she remarked, as she came up. "yes; i guess that's what they call us," rejoined peggy; "we enjoy flying and have done a lot of it." "so! i have read your names in zee papers." "oh, those awful papers!" cried jess, who hated publicity; "they are always printing things about us." "what! you do not like it?" "oh, no! you see, we only fly for fun. not as a business and--" peggy stopped short. she felt she had committed a grave breach of tactfulness. it was not the thing, she felt, to boast to a professional woman flyer of their standing as amateurs. nor was the cuban woman slow to take umbrage at what she considered an insult. her eyes flashed indignantly as she regarded the fair-haired, slender girl before her. "so you fly only for fun," she said vehemently; "very well, you have all zee fun you want before to-day is ovaire." without another word she walked off, with the swinging walk of her race. the girls looked at each other with a sort of amused dismay. "goodness, peggy; you should be more careful," cried bess; "you've hurt her feelings dreadfully." "i'm sure i didn't mean to," declared peggy remorsefully. "i--i had no idea that she would flare up like that." "well, after all, it doesn't matter much," soothed jess, pouring oil on the troubled waters, so to speak. "i'm glad the boys didn't hear it though." "so am i. see, they're busy on roy's machine," exclaimed bess. "yes; the lower left wing is rather warped," explained peggy; "they are fixing it." "wonder who that man is who is monkeying with the _red dragon_?" said peggy, the next instant. "i mean that horrid looking man in the check suit." "i don't know. see, he has a monkey wrench in his hand, too," exclaimed bess. almost simultaneously the boys looked round from their work on the biplane and saw the man. it was lish kelly. he was bending over the engine and doing something to it with his wrench. "hey! what are you doing there?" yelled roy. "just looking at your machine. no harm in that, is there?" demanded kelly, with a red face. "none at all, except that we don't want our machines touched. how comes it you have that monkey wrench in your hands if you weren't tampering with the machinery?" jimsy spoke in a voice that fairly bubbled over with indignation. "don't get sore, kid; i wouldn't harm your old mowing machine. there isn't one of mine but could beat it the fastest day it ever flew." as he spoke kelly slouched off. they saw him go up to a group of his aviators and begin talking earnestly to them. once or twice he motioned with his head in their direction. "so he _does_ mean mischief, after all," said roy; "let's take a good look at the _dragon's_ engine. he may have injured it, although i don't think he'd have had time to hurt it seriously." they strolled over to the _dragon_, with the girls trailing behind. "oh!" cried peggy, as they came up, "look at that spark plug." "what's the matter with it?" demanded jimsy, "look, it's all bent and twisted out of shape." "jove, sis, so it is. your eyes are as sharp as they are pretty!" cried roy. "no compliments, please. oh, that horrid man!" "who is he?" asked jess. "you appeared to know him." "yes, we had some conversation with him this morning," laughed roy; "but to return to the spark plug; it's a good thing we carry extra ones." "but we don't!" cried jimsy, in a dismayed tone. "what! you had a supply in a locker on your machine." jimsy looked confused. "i've got to make a confession," he said. "you didn't bring them!" cried peggy. "no, the fact is i--i forgot." jimsy looked miserably from one to the other. here was a quandary indeed. it might prove hard to get such a commodity as a spark plug in millbrook. chapter xviii. in search of a new plug. it was while they were still discussing the situation that the automobile with jake at the wheel and miss prescott and the wren in the tonneau, drove into the grounds. what a difference there was in the child since her benefactors had fitted her out! she looked like a dainty, ethereal little princess instead of the ragged little waif that had been rescued from the gipsy camp. but the minds of our young friends were now intent on different matters. time pressed. the altitude flight, in which jimsy had planned to take part, was to be the first thing on the program. if anything was to be done about reequipping the _dragon_ it must be done quickly. "tell you what," said roy suddenly, "we'll get into the car and drive back to town. it won't take long and maybe we can dig up an extra one some place." "if we don't i'm out of it for keeps," groaned jimsy; "oh, that kelly. i'd like to punch his head." he doubled up his fists aggressively; but, after all, what chance had he to prove that kelly had actually damaged the plug. if confronted the man would have probably denied all knowledge of it. nobody had actually seen him do it, so that positive proof was out of the question. no, they must repair the damage as best they could. but roy determined to have the machines closely guarded. the situation was explained to miss prescott, and while she and her small protégé took seats in the grand stand jake was detailed to guard the aëroplanes. this done, the boys got into the machine and prepared to start for town. but the girls interfered. "aren't you going to take us along, you impolite youths!" cried bess. "oh, certainly, your company is always charming," returned jimsy, with a low bow. "of course it is, but you wouldn't have asked us to come if we had not invited ourselves," declared peggy vehemently. "how can you say so? our lives would be a dry desert without the girl aviators to liven things up," declared jimsy. "jimsy bancroft, if you are going to get poetical you'll leave this car," cried jess. "that's just it," declared jimsy, "girls can cry their eyes out over romantic heroes, but when a regular fellow starts to get 'mushy' they go up in the air." amidst the chorus of protestations aroused by this ungallant speech roy started the car. swiftly it sped out of the grounds; but not so swiftly that the keen eyes of lish kelly did not see it. he called herman le roy, the cuban aviator, to him. "le roy, you are not in the altitude contest," he said, "hop in my car with me and we'll follow those kids. they're up to something." the cuban looked at him and smiled, showing two rows of white teeth under his small, dapperly curled mustache. "i think, señor kelly, you have been up to something yourself." "well, you know what i told you. we want that five-hundred-dollar prize, carlos, and by the looks of things if we don't do something those kids are likely to get it." "they have fine machines," agreed the other. "yes; and they are equipped with a balancing device that makes them much more reliable than ours." "a balancing device!" exclaimed the cuban, as the two men got into the car, a small yellow runabout of racy appearance. "that's what i said, and it's a good one, too. i read an account of it in an aviation paper; but the description was too sketchy for me to see how the thing was worked." "those boys must be wonders." "i'm afraid they are. that's why we've got to be careful of them. but i've got a plan to fix them, the whole lot of them." "what is it?" "i'll tell you as we go along." as the car rolled past the group of aëroplanes with jake faithfully standing guard over them, kelly hailed him in a suave voice. "any idea where the young folks have gone?" jake, who had no idea that kelly had a sinister motive in asking the question, replied readily enough. "yes, they've gone into millbrook to get another spark plug. something happened to one of the plugs of that red machine yonder." "all right. thanks." kelly drove on. "do you know what happened to that plug, carlos?" he asked, as they reached the open road and bowled forward at a good speed. "i've got a pretty good guess. it was not altogether an accident, eh?" "an accident, well, it was, in a sense. i happened to be near that machine with a monkey wrench and in some way was careless enough to let it put that plug out of business." both men laughed heartily, as if kelly's rascally act had been the most amusing thing in the world. "you are a genius," declared le roy. "well, i reckon i know a thing or two," was the modest response; "besides, i need that money." "but what is your plan?" "i'll tell you as we go along. drive fast, but don't keep so close to that other car that they can get sight of us." "not much fear of that. they had a long start of us and are out of sight now." "so much the better. it doesn't interfere with my plans a bit, provided they take the same road back." "what do you mean to do?" "are you good with a shovel?" was the cryptic reply. "i don't understand you, i must say." "you will later on. we'll drive up to that farmhouse yonder." "yes, and what then?" "we'll borrow two shovels." "two shovels!" "that's what i said." "but what on earth have two shovels to do with stopping a bunch of kids from entering in an aëroplane race?" "carlos, your brain is dull to-day." "it would take a wizard to understand what you intend to do." "well, you will see later on. drive in this gate. that's it, and now for the shovels." chapter xix. the trap. for more than half an hour eager inquiries were made in millbrook for a spark plug such as they wanted. but all their search was to no avail. but suddenly, just as they were about to give up in despair, a man, of whom they had made inquiries, recalled that not far out of town there was a small garage. "we'll try there," determined jimsy. finding out the road, they speeded to the place. it did not look very promising, a small, badly fitted up auto station, run by an elderly man with red-rimmed, watery eyes, looking out from behind a pair of horn spectacles that somehow gave him the odd look of a frog. "got any spark plugs?" asked jimsy, as the machine came to a halt. "yes, all kinds," said the man, in a wheezy, asthmatic voice that sounded like the exhaust of a dying-down engine. "good!" cried jimsy, hopping out of the car. "that is, we will have all kinds next week," went on the man; "i've ordered 'em." "goodness, then you haven't any right now?" "i've got a few. possibly you might find what you want among them." "i'll try, anyway," declared jimsy. the man led the way into a dingy sort of shed. on a shelf in a dusty corner was a box. "you can hunt through that," said the man wearily; "if you find what you want wake me up." "wake you up?" "yes, i always take a sleep at this time of day. you woke me up when you came in. now i'm going to doze off again." so saying he sank into a chair, closed his eyes and presently was snoring. "dead to the world!" gasped jimsy; "well, that's the quickest thing in the sleep line i ever saw!" as it was no use to waste further time the boy began rummaging in the box. it contained all sorts of odds and ends, among them several plugs. "i'll bet there isn't one here that will fit my engine!" grumbled jimsy; "i don't--what! yes! by jiminy! eureka! hurray, i've found one!" the man woke up with a start. "what's the matter?" he demanded drowsily. "nothing! that is, everything!" cried jimsy. "i've found just what i want." "all right. leave the money on that shelf there. it's a dollar." so saying, off he went to sleep again, while jimsy, overjoyed, hastily peeled a dollar from his "roll" and departed. the last sound he heard was the steady snoring of the garage man. "well, there's one fellow that money can't keep awake, even if it does talk," said jimsy laughingly to himself as, with a cry of triumph, he rejoined the party, waving the plug like a banner or an emblem of victory. no time was lost in starting the auto up again and they whirled back through millbrook in a cloud of dust. passing through the village they retraced their way along the road by which they had come. "just half an hour before that altitude flight," remarked jimsy to roy, who was driving, as they sped through the town. "fine; we'll make it all right," was the rejoinder. roy turned on more power and the auto shot ahead like some scared wild thing. "we'll only hit the high spots this trip," declared roy, as the machine plunged and rolled along at top speed. all at once, as they turned a corner, they received a sudden check. right ahead of them a man was driving some cows. roy jammed down the emergency brake, causing them all to hold on for dear life to avoid being pitched out by the sudden change of speed. "wow! what a jolt!" exclaimed jimsy; "it sure did----" the sentence was never completed. the auto gave a pitch sideways and then plunged into a pit that had been dug across the road and covered with leaves and dust placed on a framework of branches. down into this pit crashed the machine with a sickening jolt. the girls screamed aloud in fear. it appeared as if the machine would be a total wreck. but that was not the worst of it. in the sudden fall into the pit roy had been pitched out and now lay quite still at the roadside. jimsy had saved himself from being thrown by clutching tight hold of the seat. he stopped the engine and then clambering out of the car hastened to roy's side. to his delight, just as he reached him, roy sat up, and although his face was drawn with pain he declared that his injuries consisted of nothing more serious than a sprained ankle. "but look at the machine!" cried jimsy; "it's smashed, i'm sure of it." the pit which had been dug across the road was about three feet deep and the front wheels of the auto rested in it. the hind wheels had not entered, as the excavation was not a wide one. both boys hastened to examine the car. to their satisfaction they found that not much damage had been done beyond a slight wrenching of the steering gear. this was due to the fact that they had been going at reduced speed. "gracious! suppose we had been coming along at the same pace we'd been hitting up right along," exclaimed jimsy. "we wouldn't be here now," declared roy; "we'd be in the next county or thereabouts." "yes, we'd have kept right on going," agreed jimsy; "talk about flying! but, say, who can have done this?" "not much doubt in my mind it's the work of that outfit of kelly's. he told us to look out for trouble, and he appears to be making it for us." "the precious rascal; he might have broken all our necks." "that's true, if we'd been hitting up high speed." "how are we going to get out of this?" peggy asked the question just as the man who had been driving the cattle came running up. "what's the trouble?" he asked, gazing at the odd scene. "you can see for yourself," rejoined roy; "some rascals dug a trench across the road so as to wreck our machine if possible." "humph! so i see," was the rejoinder; "how be you goin' ter git out of thar?" "that's a problem. if we could get a team of horses----" the man interrupted roy, who was acting as spokesman. "tell you what, two of my cattle back thar are plow oxen. i'll go back to ther farm, git their yokes on 'em and yank you out of here. that is pervidin' you pay me, uv course." "don't worry about that. we're willing to pay anything in reason." "all right, then, i'll hook up jeb and jewel." the man walked back toward his cattle, which were contentedly browsing at the side of the road. clucking in an odd manner, he drove two of them out of the herd and started back toward a farmhouse which was not far distant. in a wonderfully short time he was back with his oxen in harness. "gee, jeb! haw, jewel!" he cried, as he came up. the oxen swung round and the heavy chain attached to their yoke was hitched to the front axle of the car. "now for it!" cried roy, when this had been done. "git ap!" shouted the man. the slow but powerful oxen strained their muscular backs. the chain tightened and the next moment the car, from which peggy and jess and bess had alighted, rose from the pit. then the hind wheels dropped into it with a bump, but the shock absorbers prevented serious damage. with the oxen straining and pulling it was finally hauled into the road and they were ready to resume the trip. roy rewarded their helper with a substantial bill, and they were all warm in their thanks. "'twasn't nuthin'," declared the man, "an' now i guess i'll go to ther house and have my hired man fill in this road. things is come to a fine pass when such things kin happen." as the rescued party sped on toward the aviation field they fully agreed with the rustic's opinion. had it not been for sheer luck they would have suffered extremely serious consequences as the result of a rascal's device. but as it was kelly's plot against them appeared to have failed. chapter xx. an attack in the air. "b-o-o-m!" the sound of a gun crashed out as the auto sped through the gates of the aviation field and rapidly skimmed across to where the aëroplanes had been parked. "just in time!" cried peggy; "that's the five-minute warning gun." by this time the grandstand was well filled and a band was playing lively airs. at the starting line three of the kelly aëroplanes were gathered ready for the signal for the start of the altitude flight. the instant the car came to a standstill jimsy was out and in a jiffy had the new spark plug adjusted. there was no time to test it, but he felt pretty confident that it would work all right. "all ready!" shouted the official in charge of the starting arrangements. "ready!" rejoined jimsy heartily, as he adjusted his leather helmet and jake and roy started the engine. kelly, whose back had been turned while he talked to some of his troup, faced round at the sound of the boy's voice. "what, you here!" he choked out, his face purple. "yes; do you know any reason why i shouldn't be?" asked jimsy, with meaning emphasis. under the lad's direct gaze kelly's eyes fell. he couldn't face the lad, but turned away. "there, if that isn't proof of his guilt i'd like to know what is," declared jimsy to roy. "but the rascal covered up his tracks so cleverly that we can't prove anything on him," muttered roy disgustedly. at the same instant the starting bomb boomed out. the crowd yelled, and the drummer of the band pounded his instrument furiously. above the uproar sounded the sharp, crackerlike report of the motors. as more power was applied they roared like batteries of gatling guns. into the air shot one of them, a black biplane. it was followed by the others, two monoplanes and a triplane. jimsy ascended last, but as this was not a race, but a cloud-climbing contest, he was in no hurry. he was anxious to see what the other air craft could do. up they climbed, ascending the aërial stairway, while the crowd below stared up, at the risk of stiff necks in the immediate future. jimsy chose spiraling as his method of rising. but the others went upward in curious zigzags. this was because their machines were not equipped with the stability device, and they could not attempt the same tactics. before long jimsy was high above the others. from below he appeared a mere dot in the blue. but still he flew on. once he glanced at his barograph. it showed he had ascended , feet. it was higher than the boy had ever been before, but he kept perseveringly on. it was cold up there in the regions of the upper air, and jimsy found himself wishing he had put on a sweater. "it's too long a drop to go down and get one," he remarked to himself, with grim humor. beneath him he could see the other aëroplanes; but the black one was the only one that appeared to be a serious rival. the rest did not seem to be trying very hard to reach a superlative height. the black machine, however, was steadily rising. after a while jimsy could see the face of its occupant. it was the cuban, le roy. "now, what's he trying to do, i wonder?" thought jimsy, as the black biplane rose to the same level as himself and appeared to be going through some odd maneuvering. "that's mighty funny," mused the boy, watching his rival; "i can't make out what he's up to." indeed the black biplane was behaving queerly. now it would swoop toward jimsy and then would dart, only to return. suddenly it came driving straight at him. it was then that jimsy suddenly realized what his rival was trying to do. to use a slangy but expressive phrase, le roy, the veteran aviator, was trying to rattle the boy. "so that's his game, is it," thought jimsy; "well, i'll give him a surprise." manipulating his spark and gas levers the boy gave his graceful red craft full power. the dragon shot sharply upward, crossing le roy's machine about twenty feet above its upper plane. jimsy laughed aloud at the astonished expression on the man's face as he skimmed above him. "i reckon he'll think that i do know something about driving an aëroplane, after all," he chuckled as he rose till his barograph recorded , feet. beneath him he could see le roy starting to descend. something appeared to be wrong with the black biplane's motor. it acted sluggishly. "well, as he's going down i guess i will, too," said jimsy to himself; " , feet is by no means a record, but it's high enough for me." suddenly he was plunged into what appeared to be a wet and chilly fog. in reality it was a cloud that had drifted in on him. it grew suddenly cold with an almost frosty chill. the moisture of the cloud drenched him to the skin. the lad shivered and his teeth chattered, but he kept pluckily to his task. before long he emerged into the sunlight once more. the crowd which had thrilled when the young aviator vanished into the vapor set up a yell when he reappeared. but at the height he was jimsy, of course, did not hear it. but as he dropped lower the shouts and cheers became plainly audible. the lad waved his hand in acknowledgment. then, as he neared the ground, he put his machine through a series of graceful evolutions that set the crowd wild. "the altitude flight is won by number four," announced the officials after they had examined the barograph; "with a height of , feet. number four is mr. james bancroft." "gee; that sounds real dignified," laughed jimsy; "it's a treat to be treated with becoming dignity once in a while." the next flight was a race six times round the course. this was won by one of the kelly flyers. then came an endurance contest which roy captured handily and some exhibition flying in which bess did some clever work and was delighted to find herself a winner. it was soon after this that the gun was fired as a note of warning that the big race was about to begin. peggy's _golden butterfly_ and roy's entry, the _red dragon_, borrowed for this race because the biplane was too heavy and clumsy for such fast work, were wheeled to the starting line. already three of kelly's machines were there, among them being that of señora le roy, or, as she was billed, the cuban skylark, the only woman flyer in the world. it appeared now that she had small claim to the title. the crowd set up a cheer for her as she took her seat in a neat-looking monoplane of the bleriot type. but when peggy's dapper figure, smartly attired in her aviation costume, appeared a still louder shout went up. kelly scowled blackly. he stepped up to his flyers. "you've got to win this race or get fired," he snarled. chapter xxi. peggy's splendid race. "they're off!" "hurrah!" "there they go!" these and hundreds of other cries and exclamations followed the report of the starting gun. the cuban woman flyer was off first, then came two other of the professional flyers, while roy and peggy got away last. the race was to be sixty miles out to a small body of water called lake loon and return. a trolley line ran past the aviation grounds and out to the lake. for the guidance of the flyers a car with a huge american flag flying from it blazed a trail below them, as it were. roy's craft gained a slight lead on the _golden butterfly_ and two of the kelly flyers were soon passed by both the boy and his sister. but the professional woman flyer still maintained her lead. second came another of lish kelly's aviators in a blue machine. this was ben speedwell, who enjoyed quite a reputation as a skillful and daring air driver. the flyers had all struck a level about , feet in the air. there was a light head wind, but not enough to deter any of the powerfully engined craft. glancing back for an instant roy saw one of the contesting aviators dropping to earth. his companion soon followed. "overheated engines probably," thought the boy; "i must be careful the same thing doesn't happen to me going at this pace." suddenly another aëroplane loomed up beside him. it was the _golden butterfly_. "good for you, sis!" cried roy, as peggy, waving her hand, roared past. in another minute she had shot past speedwell, but the leader, the woman flyer, was still some distance ahead, and appeared to steadily maintain the lead she had. at last lake loon came into view. it was a more or less shallow body of water with a small island in the middle of it. as they neared it speedwell and roy were flying almost abreast, with speedwell just a shade in the lead. suddenly speedwell made a spurt and shot ahead of the _dragon_. at a distance of half a mile from roy, who was now last, speedwell was above the lake. peggy and the woman flyer had already turned and were on their way back, with the latter still in the lead. roy was watching speedwell intently. he saw the man bank his machine to take the curve in order to round the lake. an appalling climax followed. "he's turned too sharp. he'll never make it," exclaimed roy, holding his breath. the aëroplane swayed madly. then began a fierce fight on speedwell's part to settle it on an even keel. but skillful as he was he could not master the overbalanced machine. "he is lost!" breathed roy, every nerve athrill. and then the next minute: "cracky! he's got it. no, he's falling again--ah!" there was a note of horror in the exclamation. the aëroplane in front of roy dived wildly, then fairly somersaulted. the strain was too great. a wing parted. "it's the end of him!" exclaimed roy, in a whisper. down shot the broken aëroplane with the velocity of lightning. it just dodged the trees on the little island and then it plunged into the lake, first spilling speedwell out. then down on top of him came the smother of canvas, wood and wires. "he'll be suffocated if i don't go to his rescue," murmured roy; "it will put me out of the race, but i must save him." there was a clear spot on the island, and toward this the boy dived. in the meantime men were putting out from shore in a small boat. but the boy knew that they could not reach the unfortunate speedwell in time to save his life. roy made a clever landing on the island and then lost no time in wading out to the half floating, half submerged wreckage. in the midst of it lay speedwell. roy dragged him ashore. the man's face was purple, his limbs limp and lifeless and he choked gaspingly. another minute in the water would have been his last, as roy realized. he did what he could for the man, rolling him on his face to get out the water he had swallowed. by this time the boat from the shore landed on the island. the two men got out. "is he alive?" they asked of roy. "yes, and he'll get better, too, i guess. lucky he fell in the water. no limbs are broken." "well, you're a pretty decent sort of fellow to get out of the race to help an injured man," said one of the men. "well, i'll leave him to you now," rejoined roy; "is there a hospital near here?" "there's one 'bout a mile away. we can phone for an ambulance." "good! well, good-bye." with a whirr and a buzz the boy was gone, and speedily became a speck in the sky. in the meantime the aviation field was in an uproar. dashing toward it had come the two leading aëroplanes. from dots in the sky no bigger than shoe buttons they speedily became manifest as two aëroplanes aquiver with speed. blue smoke poured from their exhausts. evidently the two aviators were straining their craft to the utmost. "it's that cuban woman and the young girl flyer!" yelled a man who had a pair of field glasses. the uproar redoubled. the two aëroplanes were almost side by side as they rushed onward. which would win the $ race? it was a struggle that had begun some miles back. after leaving the lake peggy, who had held some speed in reserve while her opponent had keyed her machine to its top pitch, had gradually gained on her. but still there was a gap between the two aëroplanes. on the return trip no car blazed the way. the speed was too great for that. for this reason smudges, or smoky fires, had been lighted to guide the flyers. at a place where it was necessary to make a slight turn peggy made the gain that brought her almost alongside her competitor. in making the turn the monoplane flown by the cuban aviatrix could not negotiate it at as sharp an angle as peggy's machine, owing to its not being equipped with an equalizing, or stability device. now it was that peggy tensioned up the _golden butterfly_ to its full power. the engine fairly roared as the propeller blurred round. the whole fabric trembled under the strain. it seemed as if nothing made by man could stand the pressure. but the _golden butterfly_ had been built by one of the foremost young aviators in the country, and it was sound and true in every part. peggy felt no fear of anything giving out under the strain. and now the aviation park appeared in the distance. peggy headed straight for it, hoping devoutly that her motor would not heat up and jam under the terrific speed it was being forced to. the cuban woman glanced round anxiously. it was a bad move for her. like a flash the _golden butterfly_ shot by the other machine as the latter wobbled badly. peggy's delight was mixed with apprehension. the motor was beginning to smoke. plainly it was heating up. "will it last five minutes longer?" that was the thought in peggy's mind. the _golden butterfly_ was hardly an airship any longer. it was a thunderbolt--a flying arrow. before peggy's eyes there was nothing now but the tall red and white "pylon" that marked the winning post. could she make it ahead of her rival? close behind her she could hear the roar of the other motor, but she did not dare to look round for fear of losing ground. swiftly she mentally selected the spot where she would land, and then down shot the _golden butterfly_ like a pouncing fish hawk. the speed of the descent fairly took peggy's breath away. her cap had come off and her golden hair streamed out in the breeze wildly. there was a blur of flying trees, then came the grandstand, a mere smudge of color, a sea of dimly seen faces and a roar that was like that of a hundred waterfalls. down shot the _golden butterfly_ just inside the "pylon." it ran for about a hundred yards and was then brought to a stop. peggy prescott had won the great race. chapter xxii. peggy's generosity. "oh, peggy, it's the proudest moment of my life!" cried jimsy, as a shouting, excited crowd surrounded the aëroplane in which peggy still sat, feeling dazed and a little dizzy. "oh, you wonderful girl!" cried out bess, half laughing and half crying; "gracious, what an exciting finish. i thought i'd go wild when it looked as if you weren't going to win." they helped her from the aëroplane while policemen pushed the crowd back. somebody brought a tray with steaming hot tea and crackers on it. but peggy could not eat. she felt faint and dreamy. "brace up!" urged jimsy. "i'll be all right in a minute. it's the strain of those last few minutes. i never thought i'd win." "and i never doubted it," declared jess stoutly. "i wonder where roy is?" asked peggy anxiously, as they entered a box in the grandstand where they could be secluded from the shoving, curious, staring crowd. "don't know; but he's all right, depend upon it," said jimsy cheerfully; "hello, what's that coming now?" "it's a homing aëroplane." then, a minute later: "it's roy. look at him come. i didn't think the _red dragon_ could go as fast." roy it was, sure enough. he was coming at a pace that might have landed him as winner of the race if he had not been delayed by his errand of mercy. ten minutes later he had joined them. first he explained what had happened to the judges of the course. kelly, crest-fallen and wretched-looking, thanked him half heartedly for what he had done and said that he would care for speedwell till he got better, which, by the way, was a promise that he did not perform. a sudden stir in the crowd caused the little party in the box to look up. a man was hastily chalking up some legend on the big black bulletin board. it ran thus: long-distance race for $ prize. start of flight-- : : . finish of flight-- : : . maximum height-- , feet. wind velocity-- miles from southeast. winner--_golden butterfly_. winning aviator--miss margaret prescott. what a cheer went up then. it seemed as if the roof would be raised off the grandstand by it. "it's like a dream!" sighed peggy, "just like a dream." "now, don't get fainty, peggy, or miss margaret prescott," admonished jess; "as jimsy says, 'brace up,' the best is yet to come." a man came up to where they were sitting. in his hand he had a slip of pink paper. roy reached out for it, but the man said that he had instructions to hand it only to peggy. "it's the check for the prize-winning money," he explained. peggy took it and sat gazing at it for a minute. "oh, peggy, what are you going to do with it?" asked bess. "buy some dresses or hats or----" "none of those things," said peggy; "i made up my mind before i went into the race as to what i would do with the money if i won." "and what's that?" asked miss prescott. "why, it must go toward the wren's education," rejoined the girl. "oh, peggy, you darling!" cried jess, flinging her arms round her chum, in full view of the grandstand and the crowd below. as for the wren, she gazed up at the girl with wide-open brown eyes. "you are too good to me--too good," she said simply; but there was a plaintive quiver in her voice. mr. james parker sat on the porch of his home, in the foothills of the big smokies, gazing out over the landscape. seemingly he was watching for something. "he done watch de sky lak he 'spected de bottom drap clean out uv it pretty soon," said uncle jupe, his factotum, to his wife mandy. "'gwan, you fool nigger, don' you know dat dem flying boys an' gals is to be hayr ter-day?" "oh, dat's jes a joke, dat is," rejoined uncle jupe; "how's they all goin' ter fly ah'd lak to know." "i don' know, but dat's what marse parker says." "den he's been grocersly imposed upon by somebody. ain't likely dat ef de lawd had meant us ter fly he'd have give us wings, wouldn't he?" "go 'long, now, don' flossyfying roun' hyar. you git out an' hoe dat cohn. look libely, now. you git it done fo' dinner or dere'll be trouble." uncle jupe shuffled out of the kitchen, but in a minute he came rushing back. "wha' de matter?" demanded his wife, noticing his wildly staring eyes and open mouth; "you gone fool crazy?" "m-m-m-m-mandy, it's true! it's true!" gasped uncle jupe. "wha's true,--dat you all's crazy?" "yes--no, it's 'bout dem flyin' things. dey's comin'. come and look wid your own eyes." mandy shuffled out. there, sure enough, coming toward them, was a flock of what at first sight appeared to be immense birds. but it was the young sky cruisers nearing their destination. on the porch mr. parker stood up and waved his newspaper. ten minutes later the aëroplanes came to earth in the smooth front lawn, while uncle jupe restrained a strong inclination to run away. "dey ain't canny, dem things," he declared; "ef de lord had wanted us to fly he'd have given us wings, i guess. "yes, sir, he'd sure have given us wings des de same as angels hev," he repeated musingly. chapter xxiii. the moonshiners and the aËroplane. "this is a beautiful country, sis." "yes, indeed," agreed peggy warmly. the two were flying high above the romantic scenery of the big smoke mountains of north carolina in the _golden butterfly_. beneath them lay a wild-looking expanse of country,--peaks, deep cañons and cliffs heavily wooded and here and there bare patches cropping out. "let's drop down on one of those patches and do some exploring," suggested peggy. "all right," agreed roy, nothing loath. the _golden butterfly_ was headed downward. in a few minutes they landed on a smooth spot surrounded by trees. leaving the aëroplane, they struck off on a path through the woods. "wonder if we can't find some huckleberries hereabouts," suggested roy. "oh, yes, lots. wouldn't it be dandy to take home a bucketful by aëroplane!" "there's a little hut off yonder, maybe we could get a bucket or something there." "let's see if there are any berries first," said the practical peggy. from out of the hut shuffled an old woman. she was a wrinkled and hideous old hag, brown as a seasoned meerschaum pipe and in her mouth was a reeking corn cob. her feet were bare, and altogether she was a most repulsive old crone. she saw roy and peggy almost as soon as they saw her. for an instant she stood looking at them and then raised her voice in a sort of shrill shriek. instantly from the woods around several men appeared--wild-looking, bearded fellows, each of whom carried a rifle. "what you alls want hyar?" demanded one who seemed to be the leader. "we were just taking a walk," explained roy. "wa'al, we all don't like strangers particlar." "so it would seem," rejoined roy, with a bold voice, although his heart was beating rather fast. "how'd you alls get hyar?" was the next question from the inquisitor. "we flew here," rejoined roy truthfully. but the man's face grew black with wrath. "don' you alls lie to me; it ain't healthy," he said. "i'm not in the habit of doing so." "but you said you flew hyar." "well, we did." "see hyar, young stranger, you jes' tell me the truth 'bout how you came or by the eternal i'll make it hot fer you." "i can only show you that i'm speaking nothing but the truth," rejoined the boy; "if you'll come with me i'll show you what we flew here in." the man glanced at him suspiciously. it was plain that he feared a trap of some sort. his eyes were wild and shifty as a wolf's. "ain't you frum the guv-ment?" he asked. "i don't know just what you mean." "i reckin that's jus' more dum' lyin'." "thank you." "don' get sassy, young feller, it won't do you no good. but i'll come with you. come on, boys, we'll take a look at this flyin' thing. i reckon that even if it is a trap there's enough of us to take care of a pack of them." "that's right, jeb," agreed the men. some of them, who had been hanging back in the bushes, now came forward. they were all as wild-looking as their leader, jeb. the old woman mumbled and talked to herself as they strode off behind roy and peggy. it was one of the strangest adventures of their lives and neither one of them could hit on any explanation of the hillmen's conduct. it did not take long to reach the aëroplane, and roy turned triumphantly to jeb. "well," he said, "what do you think now?" "wa'al, it ain't flyin', is it?" "of course not, but i can make it." "you kin?" "certainly." "flap its wings and all that like a burd?" "no, it doesn't flap its wings." "then how kin it fly?" propounded jeb. a murmur of approval ran through the throng. jeb's logic appealed to their primitive intellects. "nothing can't fly that don't flap its wings," said one of them. "but if it didn't fly, how in tarnation did it git here?" asked an old man with a grizzled beard and blackened stumps of teeth projecting from shrunken gums. this appeared to be a poser for even jeb. he had nothing to say. "if you like i'll give you a ride in it," proffered roy to jeb. "all right; only no monkey tricks now." "what do you mean?" "wa'al, in course i know it won't fly, but if it does you'll hev to let me out." with this sage remark jeb stepped gingerly into the chassis of the aëroplane. he sat down where he was told and roy took the wheel. jeb's companions gazed on in awed silence. "look out, jeb," cried one. "don't hit the sky," yelled another. "bring me back a star," howled the facetious old man. "me a bit of the moon," called another. jeb said nothing to this raillery. instead, he looked uneasily about him and held his rifle, which he had insisted on bringing with him, between his knees. "all right?" asked roy, looking back at him. "as right as i ever will be," rejoined jeb, with a rather sickly grin. "you must hold tight," warned peggy. "i'm doing that," said jeb. and then with the same sickly grin: "say, miss, does it really fly?" "of course it does. as that old man said, how could it have got here if it didn't." "i guess i'd better go home and git my coat," said jeb, trying to climb out. his demeanor had completely changed since he had climbed into the chassis. something in its well-cushioned seats and the sight of the powerful engine and propeller seemed to have changed his mind about the capabilities of the _golden butterfly_. but it was too late. with a roar the engine started. instantly the little plateau was deserted. the mountaineers were all behind trees. jeb rushed for the side of the car. "sit down!" screeched peggy, really fearing he would fall over. but if jeb's intention had been to climb out it was foiled. [illustration: "take me back to earth er i'll shoot," said a voice in his ear.] "wow!" he yelled, and again, "wow-ow-ow! lemme out." "too late now," shouted roy. the aëroplane shot upward, carrying as a passenger a man temporarily crazy from fright. suddenly roy felt the muzzle of a rifle press against the back of his neck. "take me back to earth er i'll shoot," said a voice in his ear. roy obeyed, and so ended jeb's first aëroplane ride. it may be added that it was also his last. chapter xxiv. mr. parker's story. "it was a gang of moonshiners that you stumbled across," said mr. parker, when they told him of their adventure; "you were fortunate to escape as you did." "i guess we have that aëroplane ride we gave to jeb to thank for that," laughed roy. "it wasn't so laughable, though, when he pressed that rifle to your neck," declared peggy. "no, indeed. that was a mighty uncomfortable feeling, i can tell you." "it reminds me of an experience i had with moonshiners once," said mr. parker. "would you care to hear about it?" of course they would. they were sitting on the porch in the twilight after dinner. it was a happy group and they had been exploding with laughter over roy's account of jeb's ride. "it was a good many years ago, when i was in the employ of the government," said mr. parker, "that what i am going to tell you about happened. i was a young fellow then, and a good bit of a dare-devil, so i was sent at the head of a body of men to rout out moonshiners. "as you may know from your experience this morning, it is mighty dangerous to be suspected of being in the employ of the government, and so we posed as drummers and peddlers, scattering through the mountains. "each of us worked alone so as not to attract attention. our job was merely to locate the illicit stills and then militia would be sent to raid and destroy them, and the vile stuff they concoct. "i had been on the job about a week when i came one night to a desolate-looking little shack on a high mountainside. it did not look inviting, but i had to have shelter for the night, so i stepped to the door and knocked. a rather comely looking woman replied to my summons. "'i'm a peddler,' i explained, 'could i get something to eat and a room here for the night?' "she looked at me twice before answering. "'what you tradin' in?' she asked, with a trace of suspicion. "i judged from her manner that there was an illicit still in the neighborhood and that was what made her so suspicious. "'oh, laces, ribbons and so forth,' i replied. "i showed her some samples. "i'll give you breakfast, supper and a bed fer that bit of red ribbon,' she said. "'i'll throw in this bit of blue,' said i gallantly. "and so the bargain was struck. it was a small place, but neat and tidy. two children were playing about and in a corner sat a man trying to read a month-old newspaper. "pop, this feller traded in these bits of ribbon fer bed and two meals,' she said, proudly exhibiting her goods and evidently thinking she had made an excellent bargain. i could see the gleam of triumph in her eye. "'humph!' grunted the man, 'much good those are.' "then he turned to me. "'peddler?' he asked. "'yes,' said i. "'what you tradin' in?' "'oh, silks, laces and so forth,' rejoined i, repeating my formula. "'humph!' "he looked at me, narrowing his eyes. "'you don't look much like a peddler," said he. "'no, i've seen better days,' i said, with a sigh. "but i could see that he was still suspicious. "'where'd you come from?' was his next question. "'south,' said i. "'where you going?' "'north.' "'ain't much on conversation, be yer?' he asked. "'no, i'm not considered a very talkative fellow,' i rejoined. "we lapsed into silence. the man smoked. i just sat and thought the situation over. at last supper was announced. it was eaten almost in silence. the man discouraged all his wife's efforts at conversation. he was sullen and nervous. "more than ever did i begin to suspect that there was a still in the immediate neighborhood. soon after supper i pleaded fatigue and was shown up a flight of stairs, or rather a ladder, to a sort of attic. there was a husk mattress there, and a pile of rather dirty-looking blankets. but in those hills you learn to put up with what you can get. i was glad to have found shelter at all. "but tired as i was for some reason i couldn't sleep. i felt a sort of vague uneasiness. i heard the man get up and go out and then later on i heard several voices downstairs. "there were broad chinks in the floor, and through these i could look down. the men--there were four of them--were talking in low voices, but now and then i could catch a word. all of a sudden i heard one say something about government spy. "that gave me a shock, i can tell you. i knew then they were talking about me. my predicament was a bad one if they suspected me. i began to look about me for a way to get out. while doing this i occasionally looked down below. "the last time i looked i got a shock that made my hair stand. the fellows were moving about the room. from one corner one of them got a formidable-looking knife. "scared to death, i redoubled my efforts to find a way out. at last at one end of the room i found a chimney, one of those big stone affairs as big as all outdoors. i decided to try this. "i found that it was rough inside, and i had not much difficulty in clambering up it. i was near the top when i heard a voice from the room below say: "'then we uns 'ull kill him right now.' "'yep, he's lived long enough. he's no good.' "my heart jumped into my mouth. i redoubled my efforts and emerged from the top of the chimney. reaching it, i lowered myself to the roof as gently as possible. "the eaves came down low to the ground and i had not much difficulty in making my escape noiselessly." chapter xxv. the wren disappears. "but as i reached the ground a startling thing happened. i missed my footing and found myself rolling down a steepish bank. at the bottom i fetched up against an odd-looking little hut almost overgrown with bushes. it was bright moonlight and the door was open. "inside was a fire, and by its light i could see that the place was empty of human life, but that a collection of objects already familiar to me almost filled it. "it was an illicit still! "clearly enough, also, it was operated by my hosts up above. "i listened for sounds of pursuit, but heard none. possibly they had not yet crept into my room to perform their horrible resolve. "suddenly the silence was broken by appalling yells and screams. my hair bristled for an instant and then i burst into a laugh. "it was a pig that i heard. at the same instant it dawned on me that it was the pig that they had been discussing dispatching and not me at all. you can imagine the revulsion of my feelings. but i felt sore at the scare they had given me, so i decided to do some work for the government and even up scores at the same time. "entering the shack, i scattered the coals of the fire right and left. then i came away. no, i did _not_ go back to the cabin. it would, as your friend jeb said, not have been healthy for me. "instead i set off running at top speed through the woods. before long i saw a glow on the sky behind me, and knew that flames were devouring the vile stuff that moonshiners make. "i left my pack behind me, however, and i hope that compensated them for the loss of their still. i'm sure the woman, at any rate, would value its contents more highly." they all burst into a laugh at the conclusion of mr. parker's odd story. they were still laughing when mandy rushed out on the porch. "miss wren done be gone!" she shouted. "gone!" they all echoed, in dismayed tones. "yes. i done go to her room to see de poo' lamb is com'foble, and she not there. i done find dis writin', too." "let me look at it," demanded mr. parker. "it mighty hard to read. it sure is a scan-lous bit of writin'." with this comment the colored woman handed over to her master a bit of dirty wrapping paper. on it was scrawled in almost illegible characters: "u wont git hur agin.--the romanys." "the romanys!" exclaimed peggy. "yes; that's the gipsy word for themselves," said mr. parker. "i'm afraid that the same band that had her before has stolen her again." "what are we to do?" wailed bess. "hush!" said jess; "let mr. parker decide what is best." they stood about with dismayed faces. miss prescott was weeping softly. peggy could hardly keep back her tears. the little brown wren had become very dear to all of them. it was a hard blow indeed to lose her like this. "but how could they know that she was here?" objected jimsy. "why, that silly newspaper report that went out when you arrived here about your adventures on the way and the romantic rescue of wren. if they had come across that it would have given them a clew." "they were traveling south then, wren said, and that was two weeks ago. they would have had ample time to reach this vicinity." "that is so," rejoined mr. parker solemnly; "i'll make telephonic inquiries at once. they may have been seen in the vicinity." "while you are doing that we'll examine the room. they may have left a clew there," said roy. roy and jimsy darted upstairs on this errand. on looking round the place it was clear enough how the abductors had gotten in. outside the window was an extension roof. it would have been very easy for an active man such as gipsies usually are to have clambered in and out again without detection. taking a lantern they examined the ground outside. on a flower bed below the roof was the imprint of a man's feet. "notice anything peculiar about it?" asked jimsy, for roy was bending earnestly over the prints. "yes, i'd know that foot print again anywhere," he said; "see, one side of the man's boot was broken, the one of the right foot. his toes show here on the ground." "that might be a good clew if it was daylight; but right now--" jimsy sighed. it was manifestly impossible to do any tracking of the man with the broken boot in the darkness. "we'll have to wait till daylight." "yes, bother it all. they may be miles away by that time." "i doubt it. i wouldn't wonder if they hide right around here. there are lots of good places, and they know that the hue and cry will be so hot that they would be caught if they traveled." "that's so. maybe we can find them, after all." "let's hope so. well, we can do no more good here. let's go in." peggy met them at the door. she seemed wildly excited over something. "the mail rider's just been here," she exclaimed, "and listen to this letter. it's from a woman living near new york. she just got back from europe and in an old newspaper she read an account of our sky cruise. "she is certain that the wren is her daughter and gives a description of her that tallies in every particular. she said that wren was caught out in a heavy thunderstorm and sought refuge in a gipsy camp, as she learned afterward from a farmer who had seen her. she hunted high and low but has never since had word of the child. her right name is sylvia harvey. mrs. james harvey is her mother, and she's rushing here as fast as a train will carry her." "if it is really sylvia harvey then her mother has found her only to lose her again," sighed jess. "don't say that," said mr. parker, coming into the room at that moment, "we'll leave no stone unturned to find her." "did you have any success with the telephone?" "no; nobody has seen a band of people answering to the descriptions you gave of the wren's abductors." "then we can do nothing more?" the question came from roy. "not to-night. it would be useless. i have notified all the police around and a general alarm will be sent out at once. and now i order every one to bed. we've hard work in front of us tomorrow." chapter xxvi. captured by gipsies. about noon the next day roy and jimsy found themselves at the edge of a wild-looking section of country. they were standing at the entrance to a glen densely wooded with dark, forbidding-looking trees, and walled by precipitous and rugged rocks. "looks as if the trail ends here," said jimsy disconsolately. "it sure does. we can't----gee, whillikens!" "what on earth is up now?" "it's the broken-toed boot. look here on the muddy bank of this little stream." "by hooky, it is! we've struck the trail instead of ending it." "what will we do; go back for reënforcements?" "not just yet. we'll reconnoiter a bit. see, the fellow went up this bank and--look there, jimsy--there's a little footprint beside. he was dragging the child along." with beating hearts the two boys entered the forbidding-looking glen. it was almost dark under the trees, which made the aspect of the place even more gloomy and desolate looking. "this is a nice, cheerful sort of place," said jimsy, in a low tone, as they walked along, following the bank of the stream, for the brush was too thick to admit of their walking anywhere else, which is what had driven the broken-booted man to leave a tell-tale trail behind him. "i rather wish i had a gun," said jimsy. "we won't get close enough to them to need it," rejoined roy; "we'll just spy out their hiding place and then go back for reënforcements." "that's the best idea. i don't much fancy a hand-to-hand encounter with a band of such desperate ruffians as those gipsies have shown themselves to be." "don't be scared. we won't have any trouble if we're careful." "i'm not scared; but if we did get in a tussle with them they could easily overpower us and then we'd have done more harm than good for they'd take fright and move right off." "that's my idea. we'll be as cautious as mousing cats." "better stop talking, then. i never heard a mousing cat mi-ouw." cautiously they crept on. the trail still held good. at last they reached the head of the glen where a spring showed the source of the brook. "what next?" whispered jimsy. "let's see if we can find which way that fellow went. the ground is spongy all around here and--ah! this way! see it?" jimsy nodded. they struck off to the right, clambering over rocks till they reached the summit of a small hill. a tall dead tree stood there and jimsy volunteered to climb it in order to spy out the surrounding country for traces of the gipsys. but on his return to the ground he was compelled to admit that they had gained nothing. "i thought i might see some smoke that would give me a clew to their whereabouts," he explained. "not much chance of their being as foolish as that. i guess they know searching parties are out all over by this time, and they are too foxy to light fires." "i might have thought of that," admitted jimsy; "it would be about the last thing they would do. what will we do now?" "i hardly know. hello! there's an odd-looking place. right over there. see that deep cañon? that one with the fallen tree across it?" "yes, i do now. let's look over there." "all right. you're on." the two boys struck off in the direction of roy's discovery. it was indeed an odd freak of nature. some convulsion of the earth had detached quite a section of land from the surrounding country. it was, in fact, an island in the midst of the woods with only the fallen tree for a bridge. "let's cross it and examine the place," suggested roy, with all a boy's curiosity. together they crossed the old tree, which had evidently fallen there by accident, although, in reality, it formed a perfect bridge. the "island" was thickly wooded and they pushed forward across it, not without some difficulty. suddenly they came upon a sight that made them halt dead in their tracks. a man holding a rifle was sitting on a fallen log. the instant he saw them he raised his weapon. "don't come no further," he said. "why not?" demanded roy indignantly. "see that sign?" said the man. he pointed to a rudely painted sign on a tree at his back. "dangir. no trespasin." that was what it said in bold letters that sprawled across its surface in an untidy fashion. the execution of the thing was as bad as its spelling. "i guess a pretty sick man painted that sign," grinned jimsy. "what do you mean?" was the surly reply. "why, i should judge he was having an awful bad spell at the time," was the boy's rejoinder. the man scowled at him fiercely. "no joking round here," he growled; "now, then, if you know what's good for you you two kids will vamoose." "what's the danger if we keep on?" asked roy. "why, they're trying a new kind of explosive back there. it might go off the wrong way, your way, for instance, and hurt you," was the reply. "seems a funny sort of place to try out explosives," said roy. "seems a queer sort of place for you two kids to come. who are you, anyhow?" "oh, we are camping down below and we just came out for a stroll." "well, stroll some other place, then. git away from round here." "we certainly will," flashed back roy; "come on, jimsy." as there seemed nothing else to do jimsy agreed. they turned away and began retracing their steps, no wiser as to the whereabouts of the man with the broken boot than they had been when they set out. just as they turned to go, however, another man came out of the woods behind the man with the rifle. when he saw the boys he gave an abrupt start. "where did those boys come from?" he demanded. "i don't know. said they was two kids out campin' and takin' a stroll." "taking a stroll, eh?" said the other ferociously; "they were taking a stroll looking for that wren." "how do you know?" "because they are the same two kids who stole her from us just as we were going to demand a ransom for her." "that was before i joined the band. no wonder i didn't know them; if i had----" he scowled vindictively. "well, we can't let 'em get away. here, give me that rifle," demanded the newcomer. the other handed it to him. the next instant a report rang out and a bullet whizzed over the boys' heads. "come back here," shouted the man who had fired the shot; "i want to see you." the boys hesitated for a minute. "the next shot 'ull come lower if you don't," warned the man; "come on, no nonsense." as there seemed to be nothing else to do the boys obeyed. as they drew closer they recognized the fellow. "oh, you know me, eh?" he snarled; "well, you'll know me better before we get through. follow me, now. pedro, you take the rifle and fall in behind. if they try to escape shoot them down." here was a fine situation. they had found the gipsies' camp with a vengeance, but for all the good it was going to do the wren, unless they could get her away, they might as well not have come. these gloomy reflections sifted through their minds as they paced along, the man with the rifle occasionally prodding them with it just to make them "step lively," as he phrased it. at length they came to a sort of large open place shaped like a basin, and placed in the middle of this natural island. in this basin were set up several squalid tents, about which the gipsies were squatting. they set up a yell of surprise as the two boys were brought in. "where under the sun did you find them, beppo?" exclaimed the same woman who had so cruelly ill-treated the wren the time the boys rescued her. "oh, they were just taking a stroll, and happened to stroll in here," said beppo viciously. "i guess they won't have a chance to bother us again. they're going to make quite a stay here." the gipsies set up a taunting laugh. suddenly, from one of the tents, a tiny figure darted. "oh, i knew you'd come! i knew you'd come," it cried. it was the poor little wren. she had been stripped of her nice clothes and put into some filthy rags, her face was stained with crying and there was a bruise on her forehead. with a curse beppo seized the child by one arm, swung her round and dealt her a savage box on the ear. "get back where you belong!" he roared. the next instant beppo had measured his length on the ground and beneath one of his eyes a beautiful plum-colored swelling was developing. as has been said, roy could hit a powerful blow. chapter xxvii. deliverance. the next minute all was wild confusion. the boys found themselves on the ground, being scratched and bitten and kicked by men and women alike. they did not have a chance against this horde of half savage wanderers. at length beaten and bruised they were tied with ropes and thrown into one of the tents and a man set to guard it. all day they lay there without anything to eat or drink and no one to come near them except that occasionally a tangled head would be thrust in to hurl some taunt at them. darkness fell and they still lay there, suffering terrible pain from their wounds and bonds. "this is the uttermost limit," declared roy, in a low tone; "we're in the worst fix we ever got into this time." "we certainly are. what a bit of bad luck that the rascal beppo came up when he did! that other gipsy had no idea who we were." "well, i had the satisfaction of giving master beppo a good black eye," muttered roy. "yes; that was a peach. it did me good to see it land." "it landed all right. ouch, my back feels as if it was broken." "my wrists and ankles are awfully sore. i wonder if they mean to let us loose or give us anything to eat." "well, we won't last long at this rate. i guess they mean to be as cruel as they can to us in return for that punch i gave beppo." "i wouldn't have spoken to you again if you hadn't." "i don't blame you." it grew dark. outside they heard the murmur of voices for a time and then all became quiet. just before silence fell and snores became audible they heard the man on duty as their guard call for some coffee to keep by his side during the night. "i'll send that brat of a wren to you with it directly," they heard beppo's wife reply; "the little beast, it'll do her good to work." then came the sound of a slap and a sob. the boys' blood boiled. "oh, what wouldn't i give to have master beppo in a twenty-four-foot ring," breathed roy. "i think he'd look well decorating a tree," grated out jimsy viciously. the night wore on, but the boys did not sleep. their tight bonds and worry over their situation prevented this. all at once roy's attention was attracted by somebody raising the flap at the back of the tent. next something crawled in. at first he thought it was a large dog. but then came a whisper: "it's me, wren." "what are you doing here?" "hush, i've come to get you free. you'll take me with you, won't you?" "of course; what a question to ask! but how can you free us?" "i've got a knife here. i'll cut those ropes in a minute." "but the guard outside?" "i've fixed him. was it very wrong of me? while mother beppo wasn't looking i put some of the stuff in that coffee i brought him." [illustration: "i'd do anything for you." said the child, as she rapidly cut the ropes.] "well, upon my word, wren! what sort of stuff?" gasped jimsy. "oh, some sort of brown stuff. i've seen mother beppo smoke it. it makes her oh so sleepy. so i gave some to him and he's sound asleep now." "must have been opium," declared roy. "wren, do you know that you are a very bad young lady?" "i'd do anything for you. you're so good and kind to me," said the child, as she rapidly cut the ropes. for a time the boys, after being freed, just lay there, unable to move. but after a while circulation set in and they began to move their limbs. in half an hour the trio crept out of the tent and, crossing the "island," traversed the trunk bridge. "wait a minute," said roy, when they reached the other side. "what are you going to do?" "make that whole outfit prisoners till the officers of the law can get up here." he took a broken branch as a lever and with jimsy's assistance toppled the log down into the cañon. "now i guess they'll stay put for a while," he said. and they did. that was why, when a posse came up to capture the band, they carried materials for building a bridge across the cañon. it may as well be said here that the band received heavy sentences, it being proved at their trial that they had made a practice of kidnapping children and then trying to collect ransoms for them. there was a happy scene next day at the parker home when mrs. harvey, a sweet-faced woman of middle age, arrived. after one look at wren she swayed and then, recovering herself, called out in the voice that only a mother knows: "sylvia!" "mother!" screamed the child, and rushed into her open arms. the tide of memory, driven to low ebb by ill-treatment and hardship, had rushed back with full force. the wren, the gipsy waif, was once more sylvia harvey. a doctor said later that such cases were frequent following a severe shock. it was then that they recalled how the child had almost recollected some of her past life during the thunderstorm. the happiness of little wren and her mother in their reunion was shared by all of the party who had been instrumental in effecting it, for every one of them, including jake, had become attached to the quiet little girl and rejoiced in her good fortune. when mrs. harvey and sylvia departed for the railway station the following day behind a pair of mr. parker's steady horses they were accompanied by the four aëroplanes, which hovered over them like so many sturdy guardian angels. and when the train bore them away they watched the returning aërial escort until there was nothing visible but four tiny dots against the blue heaven. "oh, mother," exclaimed wren, "they look no bigger than butterflies now!" and the girl aviators, flying every moment higher and farther on the powerful wings of the _golden butterfly_ and the delicate plane of the dainty _dart_, looked back at the train crawling like a humble insect in the valley below and gloried in their untrammeled flight. as they followed roy and jimsy in an irregular procession through the air, their thoughts flew ahead, outdistancing the biplane and the _red dragon_ and speeding confidently toward the happy realizations of the future. miss prescott, watching from the home of mr. parker for their return, also dreamed dreams and saw visions, and in them her "dear children" were fulfilling the bright prophecies of the present. she saw them stronger because of adversity, braver because of success, and ennobled by all their experiences; and she deemed herself happy in her capacity of chaperon to the girl aviators. the end. * * * * * the victory boy scouts by captain alan douglas scoutmaster stories from the pen of a writer who possesses a thorough knowledge of his subject. in addition to the stories there is an addenda in which useful boy scout nature lore is given, all illustrated. there are the following twelve titles in the series: . _the campfires of the wolf patrol_. . _woodcraft; or, how a patrol leader made good_. . _pathfinder; or, the missing tenderfoot_. . _great hike; or, the pride of khaki troop_. . _endurance test; or, how clear grit won the day_. . _under canvas; or, the search for the carteret ghost_. . _storm-bound; or, a vacation among the snow-drifts_. . _afloat; or, adventures on watery trails_. . _tenderfoot squad; or, camping at raccoon lodge_. . _boy scout electricans; or, the hidden dynamo-. . _boy scouts in open plains; or, the round-up not ordered-. . _boy scouts in an airplane; or, the warning from the sky_. * * * * * radio boys series . radio boys in the secret service; or, cast away on an iceberg--frank honeywell . radio boys on the thousand islands; or, the yankee canadian wireless trail--frank honeywell . radio boys in the flying service; or, held for ransom by mexican bandits--j.w. duffield . radio boys under the sea; or, the hunt for the sunken treasure--j.w. duffield . radio boys cronies; or, bill brown's radio--wayne whipple . radio boys loyalty; or, bill brown listens in--wayne whipple * * * * * peggy parson's series by annabel sharp a popular and charming series of girl's books dealing in an interesting and fascinating manner with the life and adventures of girlhood so dear to all girls from eight to fourteen years of age. printed from large clear type on superior quality paper, multicolor jacket. bound in cloth. . peggy parson hampton freshman . peggy parson at prep school * * * * * the aëroplane series by john luther langworthy . the aëroplane boys; or, the young pilots first air voyage . the aëroplane boys on the wing; or, aëroplane chums in the tropics . the aëroplane boys among the clouds; or, young aviators in a wreck . the aëroplane boys' flights; or, a hydroplane round-up . the aëroplane boys on a cattle ranch * * * * * the girl aviator series by margaret burnham just the type of books that delight and fascinate the wide awake girls of the present day who are between the ages of eight and fourteen years. the great author of these books regards them as the best products of her pen. printed from large clear type on a superior quality of paper; attractive multi-color jacket wrapper around each book. bound in cloth. . the girl aviators and the phantom airship . the girl aviators on golden wings . the girl aviators' sky cruise . the girl aviators' motor butterfly. * * * * * phil bradley mountain boy's series by silas r. boone these books describe with interesting detail the experience of a party of boys among the mountain pines. they teach the young reader how to protect themselves against the elements, what to do and what to avoid, and above all to become self-reliant and manly. there are five titles: . phil bradley's mountain boys; or, the birch bark lodge. . phil bradley at the wheel; or, the mountain boys' mad auto dash. . phil bradley's shooting box; or, the mountain boys on currituck sound. . phil bradley's snow-shoe trail; or, the mountain boys in the canadian wilds. . phil bradley's winning way. * * * * * the american boy's sports series by mark overton these stories touch upon nearly every sport in which the active boy is interested. baseball, rowing, football, hockey, skating, ice-boating, sailing, camping and fishing all serve to lend interest to an unusual series of books. there are the following four titles: . jack winters' baseball team; or, the mystery of the diamond. . jack winters' campmates; or, vacation days in the woods. . jack winters' gridiron chums; or, when the half-back saved the day. . jack winters' iceboat wonder; or, leading the hockey team to victory. * * * * * motor boat boys series by louis arundel . the motor club's cruise down the mississippi; or the dash for dixie. . the motor club on the st. lawrence river; or adventures among the thousand islands. . the motor club on the great lakes; or exploring the mystic isle of mackinac. . motor boat boys among the florida keys; or the struggle for the leadership. . motor boat boys down the coast; or through storm and stress. . motor boat boys river chase; or six chums afloat or ashore. . motor boat boys down the danube; or four chums abroad * * * * * motor maid series by katherine stokes . motor maids' school days . motor maids by palm and pine . motor maids across the continent . motor maids by rose, shamrock and thistle. . motor maids in fair japan . motor maids at sunrise camp * * * * * the "how-to-do-it" books by j.s. zerbe carpentry for boys a book which treats, in a most practical and fascinating manner all subjects pertaining to the "king of trades"; showing the care and use of tools; drawing; designing, and the laying out of work; the principles involved in the building of various kinds of structures, and the rudiments of architecture. it contains over two hundred and fifty illustrations made especially for this work, and includes also a complete glossary of the technical terms used in the art. the most comprehensive volume on this subject ever published for boys. electricity for boys the author has adopted the unique plan of setting forth the fundamental principles in each phase of the science, and practically applying the work in the successive stages. it shows how the knowledge has been developed, and the reasons for the various phenomena, without using technical words so as to bring it within the compass of every boy. it has a complete glossary of terms, and is illustrated with two hundred original drawings. practical mechanics for boys this book takes the beginner through a comprehensive series of practical shop work, in which the uses of tools, and the structure and handling of shop machinery are set forth; how they are utilized to perform the work, and the manner in which all dimensional work is carried out. every subject is illustrated, and model building explained. it contains a glossary which comprises a new system of cross references, a feature that will prove a welcome departure in explaining subjects. fully illustrated. courtesy of the digital library@villanova university (http://digital.library.villanova.edu/)) motor stories thrilling adventure motor fiction no. aug. , five cents motor matt's reverse or caught in a losing cause _by the author of "motor matt"_ [illustration: _"are you hurt"? cried the girl, as motor matt lifted himself and looked toward her._] street & smith publishers new york motor stories thrilling adventure motor fiction _issued weekly._ _by subscription $ . per year._ _copyright, , by_ street & smith, _ - seventh avenue, new york, n. y._ =no. .= new york, august , . =price five cents.= motor matt's reverse; or, caught in a losing cause. by the author of "motor matt." table of contents chapter i. plotters three. chapter ii. the new aeroplane. chapter iii. treachery and tragedy. chapter iv. murgatroyd's first move. chapter v. a startling plan. chapter vi. the air line into trouble. chapter vii. nothing doing in sykestown. chapter viii. brought to earth. chapter ix. the coil tightens. chapter x. the door in the hillside. chapter xi. a revelation for matt. chapter xii. pecos takes a chance. chapter xiii. besieged. chapter xiv. the broker's game. chapter xv. cant phillips, deserter. chapter xvi. the losing cause. the doctor's ruse. stranded on a chimney. a scrimmage of lions. dredging for gold. characters that appear in this story. =matt king=, otherwise motor matt. =joe mcglory=, a young cowboy who proves himself a lad of worth and character, and whose eccentricities are all on the humorous side. a good chum to tie to--a point motor matt is quick to perceive. =ping pong=, a chinese boy who insists on working for motor matt, and who contrives to make himself valuable, perhaps invaluable. =amos murgatroyd=, an enemy of motor matt, and who cleverly manipulates the various wires of a comprehensive plot only to find that he has championed a losing cause. =amy=, murgatroyd's niece, who helps right and justice, turning against a relative in order to befriend a stranger. =siwash charley=, a ruffianly assistant of murgatroyd who proves to be one cant phillips, a deserter from the army. =pecos jones=, who has no principles worth mentioning, plays a double part with friend and foe, and abruptly vanishes. =lieutenant cameron=, an officer in the signal corps, u. s. a., who proves to be the cousin of an old friend of matt, and who nearly loses his life when the aëroplane is tested. chapter i. plotters three. "there's no use talkin', siwash," and pecos jones leaned disgustedly back against the earth wall of the dugout; "he's got one o' these here charmed lives, that feller has, and it ain't no manner o' use tryin' to down him." siwash charley was cramming tobacco into the bowl of a black pipe. he halted operations long enough to give his companion an angry look out from under his thick brows. "oh, ye're the limit, pecos!" he grunted, drawing a match across the top of the table and trailing the flame over the pipe bowl. "the cub's human, an' i ain't never yet seen a human bein' that couldn't be downed--purvidin' ye went about it right." pecos jones scowled discontentedly. "then i opine," said he, "ye ain't got sense enough to know how to go about it. that last attempt at fort totten wasn't nothin' more'n a flash in the pan. what did ye accomplish, huh? tell me that. here y' are, holed up in this dugout an' not darin' to show yer face where it'll be seen an' reckernized. the sojers want ye, an' they want ye bad. ye come purty nigh doin' up a leftenant o' the army, an' that's why the milingtary is on yer trail, but if they knowed as much o' yer hist'ry as i do, they'd be arter ye a lot worse'n what they----" "stow it!" roared siwash charley, leaning toward his companion and bringing a fist down on the table with force enough to make the flame leap upward in the chimney of the tin lamp. "ye'll hush arbout my past hist'ry, jones, or thar'll be doin's between you an' me." the place where this conversation was going forward was a hole in the hillside--an excavation consisting of a single room with a door and a window in the front wall. a shelf of earth running around three walls offered a place to sit, as well as a convenient ledge for the stowage of food supplies and cooking utensils. the window was darkened with a blanket, so that the light would not shine through and acquaint any chance passers with the fact that the interior of the hill was occupied. pecos jones was a little ferret of a man. his face had "undesirable citizen" written all over it. siwash charley was larger, and on the principle that there can be more villain in a large package than in a small one, siwash was the more undesirable of the two. he banged the table and scowled so savagely that pecos jones pulled himself together with a startled jerk. before he could say anything, however, a set of knuckles drummed on the door. pecos gasped, and stared in affright at siwash. the latter muttered under his breath, grabbed up a revolver that was lying on the table and stepped to the door. "who's thar?" he demanded huskily. "murg," came a muffled reply from the other side of the door. siwash laughed, shoved a bolt, and pulled the door wide. "come in, murg," said he. "i was sorter expectin' ye." a smooth-faced man, wearing gauntlets, a long automobile coat, and with goggles pushed up above the visor of his cap, stepped into the room. he carried a rifle over his arm, and for a moment he stood blinking in the yellow lamplight. siwash charley closed the door. "got yer ottermobill fixin's on, eh?" said he, facing about after the door had been bolted; "an' by jings, if ye ain't totin' of er winchester. them fellers at totten arter you, too, murg?" murgatroyd's little, gimlet-like eyes were becoming used to the lamplight. they shot a reproving glance at siwash, then darted to pecos jones. "who's that?" he asked curtly. "him?" chuckled siwash. "oh, he's the artful dodger. i reckon he does more dodgin' across the international boundary line than ary other feller in the northwest. whenever things git too hot fer pecos jones in north dakotay, he dodges inter manitoby, and vicer verser. hoss stealin' is his line." "never stole a hoss in my life!" bridled pecos jones. "thunder!" snickered siwash. "why, i've helped ye." "how does pecos jones happen to be here?" demanded murgatroyd. "he got ter know this place o' mine while we was workin' tergether. arter that flyin' machine was tried out at fort totten, o' course i had ter slope ter some quiet spot whar i could go inter retirement, an' this ole hang-out nacherly suggested itself. when i blowed in hyer, lo! an' behold, hyer was pecos." murgatroyd appeared satisfied. standing his rifle in one corner, he pulled off his gauntlets and thrust them in his pockets, sat down on the earth shelf, and hooked up one knee between his hands. for a while he sat regarding siwash reflectively. "is pecos jones known at fort totten?" he asked. "bet yer life i ain't," said pecos for himself. "what's more," he added, nibbling at a slab of tobacco, "i don't want ter be." "he works mostly around turtle mounting," explained siwash charley. "why?" "i think he can be useful to us," answered murgatroyd. "those other two fellows who helped you at totten--where are they, siwash?" "they was nigh skeered ter death, an' made a bee line fer winnipeg." "that was a bad bobble you made at totten," resumed murgatroyd. "motor matt, in spite of you, put traquair's aëroplane through its paces, met the government's requirements in every particular, and the machine was sold to the war department for fifteen thousand dollars." "things didn't work right," growled siwash. "i tampered with that thar machine the night before the trials--loosened bolts an' screws an' filed through the wire guy ropes--but nothin' happened till the flyin' machine was done sailin' an' ready ter come down; then that cub, motor matt, got in some lightnin' headwork an' saved the machine, saved himself, an' likewise that there leftenant cameron of the signal corps." "the boy's got a charmed life, i tell ye," insisted pecos jones. "i've heerd talk, up around turtle mounting, about what he's done." "think of a full-grown man like pecos jones talkin' that-a-way!" exclaimed siwash derisively. "motor matt is clever," said murgatroyd musingly, "and i made a mistake in sizing him up. but there's a way to get him." "what do you want to 'get' him fer?" inquired pecos jones. murgatroyd drew three gold pieces from his pocket and laid them in a little stack on the table, just within the glint of the lamplight. "pecos jones," said he, "siwash, here, has vouched for you. in the little game i'm about to play we need help. you can either take that money and obey orders, or leave it and get out." there was a silence, while pecos eyed the gold greedily. after a little reflection he brushed the coins from the table and dropped them clinking into his pocket. "i'm with ye," said he. "what's wanted?" "that's the talk," approved murgatroyd. "our plans failed at the aëroplane trials,[a] but i've got another scheme which i am sure will win. you know, siwash, and perhaps pecos knows it as well, that motor matt was demonstrating that aëroplane for mrs. traquair, who lives in jamestown. motor matt came meddling with the business which i had with the woman, and the fifteen thousand, paid by the government for the aëroplane, was divided between mrs. traquair and matt. half----" [a] what murgatroyd's plans were, and why they failed, was set forth in no. of the motor stories, "motor matt on the wing; or, flying for fame and fortune." "we know all that," cut in siwash. "well, then, here's something you don't know. mrs. traquair has a quarter section of land near here, on which her husband borrowed one thousand dollars of me while perfecting his aëroplane. after traquair was killed by a fall with his flying machine, i felt sure i could get that quarter section of land on the mortgage. now motor matt, by helping mrs. traquair, has made it possible for her to pay off the mortgage. she hasn't done it yet, because i haven't been in jamestown since your failure to wreck the aëroplane at fort totten. i've been traveling around in my automobile with my niece, who is in poor health. she is in sykestown now, while i am making this night trip out here. i visited this place once before, you remember, and i kept its location so well in mind that i was able to find it without much trouble. i felt fairly certain, siwash, that you would be here, so----" "well, what's your scheme?" interrupted siwash charley. "i'm getting to that," went on murgatroyd. "motor matt and his friend joe mcglory, together with the chinese boy, ping pong, have been at fort totten ever since the aëroplane was sold to the government. the war department will take another of the traquair aëroplanes at the same price paid for this one in case it can be finished and delivered by the first of the month, in time to go to washington for trials of dirigible balloons and other devices at fort myer. motor matt is building an aëroplane for this order, and it is nearly completed. i don't care anything about that. what concerns me is that quarter section of land. for reasons of my own, i want it--and i am going to have it, if not in one way, then in another." "what's yer scheme?" asked siwash charley impatiently. "my scheme is to give motor matt such a reverse that mrs. traquair will have to come to his rescue and buy his safety with the quarter section." "ye never kin do it!" "i believe that i can." murgatroyd took a letter from his pocket and laid it on the table. "that," said he, nodding toward the letter, "is to be delivered to motor matt at fort totten by pecos jones, and jones is to tell a story which will run substantially like this." thereupon murgatroyd entered into a more lengthened review of his crafty scheme, siwash charley's eyes gleaming exultantly as he proceeded. "it's goin' ter win!" declared siwash, thumping a fist down on the table to emphasize his declaration. "i've got ter saw off even with that young cub, an' i'm with ye, murg, chaps, taps, an' latigoes! so's pecos. ye kin count on the two of us." "very good," responded murgatroyd, getting up and drawing on his gauntlets. "succeed in this, siwash, and i'll not only secure the quarter section, but you and pecos will get more money and, what's better, a promise from the government not to trouble you because of what happened at fort totten--or what's going to happen. you understand what you're going to do, so no more need be said. i'll get away before my absence from sykestown arouses any remarks. so long." the door closed, and presently the two in the dugout heard the muffled "chugging" of a distant motor car fading into silence in the direction of sykestown. chapter ii. the new aeroplane. motor matt was as happy as the proverbial bee in clover--and fully as industrious. a quarter of a mile below the post trader's store, on the devil's lake indian reservation, a tent, with its sides rolled up, was being used as a workshop. outside the tent there was a portable forge, anvil, and full outfit of blacksmith's tools. inside there was a bench with an ironworker's vise, and also a carpenter's bench and well-equipped chest. for two weeks matt had been laboring about camp traquair, as the little rendezvous was called, assisted in his work by his cowboy chum, joe mcglory, and with the chinese boy, ping, in charge of the culinary department. immediately after matt had finished the aëroplane trials, with so much credit to himself, an order had been given for a new aëroplane at the same price the government had paid for the first one, providing only that it should be finished and tried out by the first of the month. this would enable the machine to be taken apart, crated, and forwarded to fort myer for a competitive test in an event that was to determine the abilities of an aëroplane for signal corps' services, as against other types of machines, such as dirigible balloons. matt and his two friends had plunged zealously into the work. while mcglory and ping were erecting the work tent, and furnishing it with wood and iron-working tools, matt had made a trip to jamestown for a talk with mrs. traquair, and then to st. paul after materials. the tough spruce needed for the wings, or "planes," every bolt, screw and wire guy, and the motor, matt had secured in st. paul. at a large cost for expressage these materials had been shipped direct to fort totten and had arrived there on the same day that witnessed matt's return. then began a season of feverish activity, during which lieutenant cameron and others from the post had watched the king of the motor boys with wonder and admiration. that motor matt was possessed of mechanical skill the officers at the post had long known, but that his genius in construction was fully equal to his ability as an aviator became evident from day to day, and was in the nature of a revelation. "you're the best all-around chap at this business i ever saw in my life," lieutenant cameron had declared. matt laughed. "why, cameron," he answered, "i used to work in a motor plant, in albany, new york." "that may be, matt, but building a motor is a different proposition from building a flying machine." "traquair laid down the plans. all i have to do is to follow them. it's really very simple. an aëroplane, you know, is nothing more than two oblong pieces of canvas, fastened together one above the other and pushed against the air by a motor and propeller. if the motor drives the wings fast enough, they're sure to stay up." but cameron shook his head and continued to believe that motor matt was something of a phenomenon, whereas matt knew that he had merely the "knack" for the work, just as he had acquired the "knack" for using the aëroplane in the first place. "the machine," he declared to cameron, "is only a big toy." "toy?" echoed cameron. "it's more than that, matt." "for the army and navy, yes. aëroplanes can be used for scouting purposes and for dropping bombs down on hostile armies and war ships--providing they can keep clear of bullets and shells fired from below; but, even for such work, the aëroplane has its limitations." "the government," laughed cameron, "is buying these traquair aëroplanes in spite of their limitations." "our war department," answered matt, "has got to keep abreast of other war departments, and poor traquair has given you fellows the best aëroplane so far invented." "don't you think the traquair machine will ever be used for commercial purposes? won't there be fleets of them carrying passengers and merchandise between san francisco and new york and making the trip at the rate of sixty or one hundred miles an hour?" "that's a dream," averred matt; "still," he added, "dreams sometimes come true. my old dirigible balloon, the _hawk_, was a wonder. she could be sailed in a pretty stiff wind, and a fellow didn't have to use his head and hands every blessed second to keep a sudden gust of air from turning his machine upside down. i traveled thousand of miles in the _hawk_, but there was always a certain amount of worry on account of the gas. if anything happened to the silk envelope, no amount of work with your head and hands could keep you from a tumble." "well, anyway, you're in love with air ships." "i'm in love with this," and matt's gray eyes brightened as he touched the motor which he was at that moment installing in the new aëroplane, "and i'm in love with every novel use to which a motor can be put. explosive engines will furnish the power for the future, and every new way they're used helps that coming time along. but i'm giving a lecture," he smiled, going back to his work, "and i couldn't tell you exactly how i feel on this gas-engine subject if i talked a thousand years. the motors have got a strangle hold on me--they're keeping me out of college, keeping me from settling down, and filling my life with all sorts of adventures. but i can't help it. i'm under the spell of the gas engine, and that's all there is to it." it was during this talk of matt's with cameron, along toward the last days of the busy two weeks, that ping came into camp traquair with a dagger. "you savvy knife, motol matt?" asked ping, offering the dagger for inspection. matt dropped his wrench and took the weapon from the chinaman. it was not more than seven inches in length from the end of the handle to the tip of the blade. the blade was badly rusted, and the handle was incrusted with earth. "where did you get this, ping?" inquired matt, beginning to clean the dagger with the edge of a file. "my makee find in woods. you savvy place siwash cally ping one piecee night he fool with flying joss?" "flying joss" was ping's name for the aëroplane. his heathen mind made a joss of things he could not understand, and this machine of traquair's had impressed him more than anything else he had ever encountered. "i remember," answered matt. "siwash charley carried you off into the timber, near the lake shore. you found the dagger there?" "all same." "some indian must have dropped it," put in cameron. "from the way it's rusted, it looks as though the redskin must have dropped it a hundred years ago." "hardly as long ago as that," returned matt. "it's a pretty dagger, as daggers go, although i don't admire things of the kind. the blade is of mighty fine steel, and the handle is of sterling silver, set with a ruby, or a piece of colored glass to represent a ruby, at the end. and here are some initials." a little scraping with the file had bared a flat plate in the handle. matt studied the initials. "no," he remarked, "this couldn't have belonged to an indian, cameron. redskins are not carrying silver, ruby-mounted daggers with initials engraved on them." "some red may have traded pelts for it," suggested the lieutenant. "possibly." "what are the initials? can you make them out?" "there are two letters, sort of twined together," answered matt. "i make them out to be 'g. f.,' although i----" an exclamation escaped cameron. "let me see it!" he cried, stepping forward and showing an astonishment and eagerness which bewildered motor matt. for several minutes cameron turned the blade around and around in his hands, staring in amazement and muttering to himself. "will you let me have this for a little while, matt?" asked the lieutenant when he had finished his examination. "this may be a most remarkable find--remarkable as well as of tremendous importance. i can't tell about that, though, till i have a talk with some of the others at the post." "of course you can take it," said matt. "but what makes that rusty piece of steel so important?" "i'll tell you--later." thereupon the lieutenant whirled in his tracks and made off at speed in the direction of the post. mcglory had been under the aëroplane fitting in the pipe that led from the tank to the carburetor. he had overheard the talk, however, and had caught a glimpse of the dagger while the lieutenant was examining it. "tell me about that!" he exclaimed, crawling out from under the aëroplane. "there was something about that rusty old knife that knocked cameron slabsided. what do you think it was?" "give it up, joe," answered matt. "how much too long is that pipe?" in this offhand way matt dismissed the dagger from his thoughts--but not for long. an hour later, cameron could be seen chasing down the road from the post trader's, wildly excited. "i've got to talk with you, matt," said he breathlessly, as he reached the side of the aëroplane. "you'll have to give me some of your time, and no two ways about it. there's a tragedy connected with this knife--tragedy, and a whole lot of treachery. it's more than likely, too, that siwash charley is mixed up in the whirl of events that have to do with the dagger. come into the tent with me for a little while." matt gave a regretful look at the motor. he would rather have kept busy with that than listen to the most absorbing yarn that was ever told. nevertheless, there was no denying the lieutenant, and the king of the motor boys, accompanied by mcglory and ping, followed cameron into the shade of the tent. chapter iii. treachery and tragedy. "i'm no hand at spinning yarns," remarked cameron after he and the rest had seated themselves comfortably in canvas chairs, "but this is no yarn. it's history, and has to do with the dishonor of a brother officer, one captain goff fortescue, of the --th infantry, who, two years ago, was stationed at fort totten. it isn't pleasant for me to tell of a brother officer's disgrace, but the story will have to be repeated or you won't be able to understand what the finding of this dagger means." "the knife belonged to captain goff fortescue?" asked matt, remembering the initials on the handle. "yes. there now appears to be not the least doubt of that. i went up to the post and showed the knife to a member of the signal corps who used to belong to fortescue's company. he declares that he has seen that dagger in fortescue's possession a dozen times. fortescue picked it up in italy once while he was abroad--in italy, the home of the stiletto. he was very proud of it, and always had the weapon about him, in a small sheath." cameron was silent for a little, examining with pensive eyes the rusted dagger which he had laid on a table in front of him. "fortescue came to totten from the presidio, at san francisco," he finally went on. "i presume you have heard how eager one nation is to secure the plans of another nation's defenses----" "i know a good deal about that," interjected matt grimly. "other nations are just as eager to find out about submarine boats belonging to another nation--and to destroy them, if possible. when your cousin, ensign glennie, went around south america with me in the submarine _grampus_, we had our hands full keeping clear of the japs." "exactly," said cameron. "i know about that. well, our defenses in and around san francisco bay, their strength as to guns and calibre of the guns, the situation and power of the disappearing cannon, and all that, might become of importance to several nations. such information, if it can be secured, is well paid for. that is the pit into which poor fortescue dropped--killing as bright a prospect as ever lay before any officer in the service. "while fortescue was stationed at totten, he went across to devil's lake city on a week's leave. his excuse was that he had to make a business trip to st. paul, and when he went he carried a suit case with him. the eastbound train was late, and fortescue checked his suit case at the hotel and went to pass an hour or two with friends. in some way, the clerk at the hotel mixed the checks, and a commercial traveler from omaha got fortescue's grip by mistake, while fortescue was visiting his friends. "both grips, it transpired, looked exactly alike--you've seen suit cases that way, i guess--and when the drummer took the grip to his room he was surprised to find that his key wouldn't unlock it. it was necessary for the drummer to get into the case, and he broke the lock. instead of finding what he was looking for, he discovered a mass of plans and blue-prints, with sheet after sheet of memoranda, all descriptive of our defensive works in and around san francisco! "naturally, the drummer was astounded. then, for the first time, he looked at the lettering on the end of the suit case. just as you found on that dagger, he discovered on the suit case the initials, 'g. f.' while he was looking over the documents fortescue burst wildly into the room and demanded his property. of course, the drummer gave up the suit case and the papers. he thought no more of the matter just then, for fortescue was an officer of the army and, the drummer believed, entitled to the documents. "three days later fortescue was discovered dead in the woods not far from the place where ping was found by the indian the afternoon of the aëroplane trials. he had been slain by a dagger thrust and stripped of all his personal possessions. there was no marks of a scuffle, and the affair became a great mystery, for fortescue's dagger--that dagger--was missing, although the sheath was still in fortescue's breast pocket. "the news got out. the drummer, who was at grand forks, read an account of the affair in a newspaper, and immediately started for totten. he told what he knew about the plans in fortescue's satchel. this information pointed to shame and disgrace, in the matter of fortescue, but every one reserved judgment, not wishing to judge the captain until more concerning the affair had come out. "fortescue had started for st. paul. why had he not gone there? instead, he was found south of the lake, in the woods, dead from a dagger thrust. "why had he the plans and memoranda in his possession? and where were the suit case and the plans?" "some thought he had been going to sell the plans to the agent of some foreign nation, that he was afraid the commercial traveler would tell of the mistake made in the hotel, and that he had got rid of the satchel and taken his own life. the bottom of the lake, just off the place where fortescue was found, was dragged, but the satchel could not be found. nor has it been found to this day." cameron paused. "that's what happened, cameron," said matt. "fortescue was treacherous. when he saw he had been discovered, his treasonable designs so worked upon him that he probably destroyed the satchel and the plans and killed himself." "wait, motor matt," proceeded cameron; "there's more to it. the same day fortescue started across devil's lake to take the train east, a soldier named cant phillips deserted from fort totten. this phillips also came from the presidio, and belonged with fortescue's company. the soldier was never found--and this, you will remember, happened two years ago." "but what has phillips to do with fortescue and the plans?" "here is where guesswork comes in. ping found the knife on the spot where siwash charley and two of his villainous comrades carried the boy the night the aëroplane was tampered with. suppose siwash charley had dropped the knife?" "more likely," returned matt, "fortescue dropped it after he stabbed himself." "no. the ground was searched all around in that vicinity, and the knife could not be found. if fortescue gave himself a mortal wound, he would have had to drop the knife on the spot. it wasn't there at that time. the knife, as a matter of fact, hasn't laid so long in the woods as its appearance would indicate. the rust is only on the surface of the steel, and fifteen minutes' work will clean the dagger so that it will be almost as bright as ever. i don't think it has been in the woods more than two weeks. in short, it's my notion that siwash charley dropped it when he and his pals carried ping to the place where he was left." this was rather startling, but still matt and mcglory were unable to puzzle out the point cameron was driving at. "how could siwash charley get hold of the knife?" asked matt. "siwash charley appeared in this part of the country, from nowhere in particular, some year and a half ago. he was accused of stealing horses, but the crime was never proved against him." "i'm a piute," breathed mcglory, "if i can see what siwash has to do with this fortescue party." without seeming to notice the comment, cameron went on: "cant phillips may have been concerned in the treachery that has to do with fortescue's plans. possibly he met fortescue in the woods, here to the south of the lake, the day he deserted; that he and fortescue quarreled; that phillips felled fortescue with a blow of the fist and then took the dagger from fortescue's pocket and completed his work; and then, following that, phillips may have skipped out with the suit case, the plans--and the dagger." "but how," said matt, still puzzled, "could siwash charley get the dagger from this man phillips, assuming that what you guess about the affair is true?" "i believe," and here cameron leaned forward and spoke sternly and impressively, "that cant phillips and siwash charley are one and the same!" matt, mcglory, and even ping were profoundly stirred by this announcement. "but," cried matt, "does siwash charley look like cant phillips?" "not much, so far as i've been able to discover. still, two years will make a big change in a man--especially if the man does what he can to help on the change. fortescue killed himself two years ago, and it was a year and a half ago that siwash charley appeared in this part of the country. at times there is a soldierly bearing about siwash charley which may have been the result of training in the army. besides, he is about the height and build of phillips. a soldier looks vastly different out of his uniform and in rough civilian clothes." "then," observed matt, watching through the open side of the tent as a horseman came galloping down the road from the direction of the post trader's, "the military have a double purpose in capturing siwash charley." "they will have," declared cameron grimly, "as soon as i air my suspicions. for the present, though, keep what i have said to yourself. ah," he finished, as the horseman drew up beside the tent, "a visitor, matt, and rather a rough one, at that." cameron excused himself, picked up the fateful dagger, and started back toward the post. matt stepped out to pass a few words with the horseman, while mcglory went to his work on the aëroplane. "my name's hackberry," said the horseman, a wiry, ferret-like figure of a man, "an' i got a letter here fer motor matt. which is him?" chapter iv. murgatroyd's first move. motor matt was a keen reader of character. at first glance, and from a distance, he had not liked hackberry's appearance any too well; and now, at closer view, he liked it less. "i am motor matt," said he. "sho," muttered the horseman; "hit it first clatter out o' the box, didn't i?" after a cautious look around, he dismounted and thrust his arm through the loop of the bridle. "what i got to say is private," said he, "an' i guess we better go off some'r's by ourselves." "we couldn't talk with any more privacy if we were a hundred miles away. where are you from, mr. hackberry?" "from over in wells county. ye see, i got a claim over there, an'---- but say, are ye plumb sure it's safe fer us ter talk? i was warned ter look out fer siwash charley an' his friends, and fer any other tinhorns that might be workin' fer murgatroyd." "who warned you?" "mrs. traquair." "then you're from jamestown?" "not much i ain't! mrs. traquair ain't in jimtown. say, what sort of a lookin' feller is this siwash charley?" "never mind about that just now. siwash charley isn't around here, nor are any other of murgatroyd's friends. tell me how you came to have a talk with mrs. traquair?" "well, as i was sayin', i got a claim over t'other side o' sykestown. it jines corners with a homestead harry traquair took up--the same harry traquair what mortgaged his quarter section fer enough ter go ter jimtown an' build a flyin' machine. well, i haven't put down a well on my claim yet, so i gits my drinkin' water from traquair's claim, that bein' the nighest. there ain't been any one livin' in traquair's shack fer a year, an' i was kinder surprised, t'other day, when i seen a man movin' around the place. i talked with the feller while i was gittin' a bucket o' water, an' he says he's come there ter take keer o' the crops. he was a tough-lookin' chap, an' i didn't like his looks any too well, but if mrs. traquair had sent him, and he suited her, why, he ort ter suit me, too. "while i was talkin' with the man, me by the pump an' facin' the side of the house, an' him standin' with his back to the wall, a piece of paper was pushed out from between the boards an' dropped down on the ground. "at first i was goin' ter tell the man about it, an' then i allowed it was purty queer--that shack leakin' a piece o' paper through the side that way, an' i held in about it. you know how these claim shacks is built--some of 'em jest throwed tergether, with cracks between the boards big enough ter heave a dog out of. "bymby the feller i was talkin' to excused himself an' went inter the house. the road i took carried me along the wall, an' as i went by i stooped down an' picked up the paper. there was writin' on it, an' i wah plumb surprised when i read that writin'. here, i'll let ye see it fer yerself." hackberry dug up a three-cornered scrap of brown paper from the depths of his pocket, shook some loose tobacco out of it, and handed it to matt. matt managed to make the following out of the hastily written scrawl: "i have been waiting, mr. hackberry, and trying to get word to you. if you see this, and pick it up, it will inform you that i was lured to this place from jamestown, that i am being kept a prisoner here, and that i must talk with you as soon as possible, or the homestead will be taken away from me. come quietly to the side of the house, where you picked up this paper, at night. i can whisper to you what i want, and the man who is keeping me a prisoner will never know. you used to be a friend of poor harry's, so i hope you will help me. "mrs. traquair." it would have been hard to describe matt's feelings as he read this penciled scrawl. it had been a week since he had received a letter from mrs. traquair, and the cunning murgatroyd might have carried out many underhand plans in a week! "did you go to the house that night, mr. hackberry?" asked matt. "did i? why, o' course i did. bein' such a friend o' harry traquair's, why shouldn't i try ter help his wife? they was allus good neighbors." "what did mrs. traquair say to you?" "what we said was all whisperin' an' through a knot hole that was broke out in the wall. she said a feller named murgatroyd had wanted ter git the homestead away from her, an' that he wasn't goin' ter let her go back ter her children until she give him a quitclaim deed ter the hundred an' sixty. i told her ter let me go ter sykestown an' git the deperty sher'ff, an' that him an' me 'u'd snake her out o' that shack too quick. but she wouldn't allow that. 'no,' she says, an' her voice was that sobbin' an' plaintive it would have moved a heart o' stone; 'no,' she says, ''cause then murgatroyd might hear what was goin' on an' have me took away ter some other place.' she d'ruther have me, she says, come ter fort totten an' give a letter ter motor matt. 'he'll know what ter do,' she says, 'an' he's a lad o' fine sperrit, an' i owe him a lot.' so she poked out this letter, an' i've rid hossback all the way from my shack, an' i been all o' two days makin' the trip." as he finished, hackberry dug up the letter from another pocket. it was inclosed in a soiled yellow envelope and was addressed to "motor matt, fort totten." matt tore off the end of the envelope, and drew out a sheet of paper of the same color as that which hackberry had already shown him. the letter was short, but sufficiently startling. "my dear friend: i have fallen into the hands of murgatroyd--mr. hackberry will tell you where i am. murgatroyd seems determined to get the homestead. i know you will come to my rescue, but come quickly. "mrs. traquair." "anythin' else you want ter know?" asked hackberry. "this is terrible!" exclaimed matt. "i can hardly think even murgatroyd would do such a thing." "i don't know nothin' 'bout that. i ain't acquainted none with this murgatroyd, but i can tell ye there's some mighty tough citizens in this here state." "how in the world could murgatroyd lure mrs. traquair away from jamestown?" "ye got me. mrs. traquair didn't say. we didn't talk much more'n we had to, seein' as how the feller that had charge o' the shack might come in on us at any minit." "and how," went on matt, "can murgatroyd hope to make mrs. traquair give up the claim?" "i guess he expects ter keep her a pris'ner until she signs the quitclaim." "a quitclaim deed, secured like that, wouldn't hold in law for a minute! murgatroyd has loaned enough money to understand that." "like enough, but it's some sich game he's tryin', jest the same." motor matt was puzzled. hackberry's story seemed straight enough, but there were points about it that made him incredulous. "what ye goin 'ter do, motor matt?" asked hackberry. "i'm going to look after mrs. traquair," declared matt. "sure! that's what she said ye'd do. better git a hoss an' ride back with me." "it has taken you two days to come, hackberry. why didn't you come by train?" "fer one thing, i didn't have no money. fer another, i was afeared murgatroyd might have some spies hangin' around sykestown, so i dodged the place by comin' cross-kentry. i reckon we'd better go back the same way i come, hey?" "no, it's too slow. i'll go by train." hackberry appeared disappointed. "what'll i tell mrs. traquair?" he asked. "you'll not be able to tell her anything--i'll get to her homestead long before you do. where is it?" "eighteen mile due west o' sykestown; anybody kin tell ye the place when ye git started from sykestown on the main road. i won't be able ter go with ye, seein' as how i got my hoss ter git back." "well, hackberry, you follow mrs. traquair's instructions and say nothing to any one. she evidently knows what it is best to do. i'll look after her, and after this man murgatroyd, too. mrs. traquair has money, and you'll be well repaid for your trouble." "money 'u'd come handy ter me, an' that's a fact," said hackberry, "though i'd have done this fer mrs. traquair if there hadn't been a cent comin'. when'll ye start?" "just as soon as i can." "ye'll go by the way of sykestown?" "there's no other way if i go by railroad." "all right, then. the responsibility is off'n my shoulders an' onter yourn. good-by." hackberry rode off along the road in the direction of the town of lallie, which lay on his homeward route. matt, as soon as the messenger had started, hurried up to the post. there was a telegraph office there and he sent a couple of messages. one was to mrs. harry traquair, jamestown, north dakota, and asked if she was well and at home. the other was to a lawyer in jamestown named matthews, with whom matt had some acquaintance, and requested the lawyer to let him know, at once, whether mrs. traquair and murgatroyd were in jamestown. matt was suspicious of hackberry, and wanted to be sure of his ground before he made any move. at the same time, matt realized that there was not a moment to be lost if mrs. traquair was really being held a prisoner in the shack on her homestead. in order to get to sykestown by train, matt would have to go to carrington, change cars, and proceed on the branch to his destination. at the post he learned that there was a train on the branch only every other day. more than that, the train south from minnewaukon had left for that day and there would not be another until the following morning. if he waited until morning and took the train, he would be set down in carrington on one of the days when the train was not running on the branch. it seemed as though he was bound to lose at least two days before he could get to sykestown, and that it might have been better, after all, if he had gone with hackberry on horseback. greatly disturbed, he went back to camp traquair and told mcglory the latest news. "it's a scheme o' some kind," averred the cowboy. "i'll bet money, pard, you get a telegram from mrs. traquair saying she's all right." but matt received no message from mrs. traquair. he did get one from matthews, however, and cameron brought it down from the post. hastily matt tore open the message and read it. "murgatroyd not in town for two weeks; mrs. traquair not in town for a week. can't find where either has gone. matthews." matt believed, then, that hackberry had told the truth and that the letter was genuine. and so it happened that murgatroyd's first move in his rascally game was attended with success. chapter v. a startling plan. "what's up, matt?" asked cameron. "you've been sending telegrams from the post, and here's an answer to one of them." matt repeated hackberry's story, then showed the lieutenant the ragged note and the letter. "it's a fishy yarn," mused cameron. "for a clever man of business, like murgatroyd, to extort a quitclaim deed from a woman in that way is rank foolishness, say nothing of the criminal part of it, which is very apt to get the scoundrel into trouble. no, i can't believe murgatroyd would do such a thing. who is this fellow hackberry?" "he says he has a claim joining traquair's on the----" "yes, i know what he says, but where is the proof that what he says is true? this villain, siwash charley, is a bitter enemy of yours, matt, and he isn't likely to stop at anything." matt told cameron of the messages sent to mrs. traquair and to matthews. "i haven't heard from mrs. traquair," he finished, "but here's the message from matthews." cameron read it over, his brow clouding. "do you know matthews very well, matt?" he inquired. "yes. he's a friend of mrs. traquair's and no friend of murgatroyd's." "then his word, in this matter, ought to be as good as his bond. but, how in heaven's name, was it possible for mrs. traquair to let herself be spirited away?" "murgatroyd is a loan shark," explained matt, "and he is full of plausible tricks. he's not in jamestown, and mrs. traquair isn't there. hackberry's story, hard as it is to believe, in some respects, is beginning to prove itself." "i don't like it, anyhow," and cameron shook his head forebodingly. "that's the way i stack up," declared mcglory. "i've got a hunch that there's a screw loose in all this crossfire of talk and letters--talk through knot holes and letters pushed through the walls of houses. rot!" he grunted disgustedly. "maybe there's nothing in hackberry's yarn," said matt decisively, "but i can't turn my back on it. if mrs. traquair is in trouble, i must do what i can to help her out." "sufferin' brain twisters!" cried mcglory. "why didn't she let hackberry bring the deputy sheriff from sykestown? but, no. she had to send hackberry over here, using up two valuable days, just to get you." "murgatroyd might have spies in sykestown watching the deputy sheriff," replied matt. "it would be easy for the spy to carry a warning to the traquair homestead and have the man in charge of the shack remove mrs. traquair to some other place." "gammon!" snorted mcglory. "somebody's playin' lame duck, you hear me." cameron brightened suddenly. "you got a letter from mrs. traquair the other day, didn't you, matt?" he asked. "that was a week ago," answered matt. "how does the handwriting compare? is it the same in the letter as it is in these two scraps brought in by hackberry?" matt rummaged through his satchel and brought out mrs. traquair's letter. then they all, even ping, began comparing the writing. "i give up," said cameron. "the writing's the same. suppose we take the train for sykestown to-morrow, matt, and go to the rescue of mrs. traquair?" "there's no train out of carrington until day after to-morrow," said matt. "let's get a hand car, or one of these gasoline speeders, and go over the branch to sykestown," suggested mcglory. matt's eyes sparkled at mention of the gasoline speeder, for as yet he had had no experience with one of them. "we wouldn't be liable to find such a thing as a 'speeder' in a small place like carrington," said he. "then we'll get an automobile from devil's lake city," put in cameron. "by jupiter, matt, i'm pretty nearly as warm about this business as you are. an automobile, that's the thing!" "it might be hard to get one," continued matt. "you fellows can come in an automobile, but i think i'll go by air line." "air line?" echoed the lieutenant, puzzled. "yes," was the quiet reply. "two hours' work will finish the aëroplane, and----" "great scott!" exclaimed the lieutenant, aghast; "it's a new and untried machine. you don't know whether it will fly or not." "if it won't fly, then the government won't buy it, and it will be a good thing for us to know that as soon as possible. but it will fly, cameron." "but, listen," proceeded cameron gravely. "you're proposing a two-hundred-mile flight, straight away--something unheard of in the use of aëroplanes. heavier-than-air machines have only been tried over a prescribed course, up to now--from the starting point, through the air, and then back to the starting point again. this plan of yours, matt, looks like madness to me." "it would be a fine introduction of the machine to the tests at fort myer if it could be said that the aëroplane sailed for two hundred miles over a straight-away course!" matt's face glowed at the thought. to do something different, something daring that would advance the science of aviation, _that_ would certainly be worth while. "besides this," pursued matt earnestly, "i'll have an advantage over murgatroyd and his villainous helpers. they will not be expecting a rescue through the air, while they may be prepared to ward off one by automobile. it is not impossible," he finished, with a trace of enthusiasm, "that i may be able to pick mrs. traquair up and bring her to fort totten in the aëroplane. think of that! she would be rescued by her husband's invention." "you wouldn't get her to ride in that aëroplane in a thousand years," declared mcglory. "she's scared of it, and has been even before her husband was killed. shucks! give it up pard, and go with us in the automobile." matt shook his head. "i'm going in the machine," he answered. "you fellows can follow in the automobile." "follow! speak to me about that. why, pard, if the automobile is any good at all we'll lead you all the way to wells county." "not if there's no wind, or only a very little. i figure that the new aëroplane can do better than sixty miles an hour. but let's get busy, joe; there's more work to be done." cameron left at once to go across the lake and secure an automobile, ping proceeded to get supper, and matt and mcglory put their finishing touches on the aëroplane's motor. "here's a thing you haven't thought of, pard," remarked mcglory, when the last bolt had been tightened, "and that's about sending this machine to washington. if anything happens to it, or if you're delayed in wells county, there's fifteen thousand gone up the spout." "the money is not to be considered if there's a chance of helping mrs. traquair," returned matt. but the possibility opened up by mcglory filled the king of the motor boys with regret. he had set his heart on building the new aëroplane, putting it to the test and then selling it to the government just as he had sold the first one. this particular machine was the work of his own hands, while the other had been traquair's. he was proud of it, and it struck a pang to his heart to think there was even a bare chance of his not being able to turn the machine over to the government, now that it was built. however, he put his regret resolutely behind him. "i'm not looking for a reverse, joe," said he, "at this stage of the game. luck's been on my side for quite a while, and i don't believe it will go back on me. i have yet to be caught in a losing cause--and this won't be a losing cause if we can find and rescue mrs. traquair." at that moment ping showed himself around the lower end of the tent and shouted, in his high cackle, "suppa' leddy!" the boys ate supper. there was not much talk during the meal, for all were thoughtful, and mcglory, at least, was troubled with forebodings. the meal over, matt and mcglory tried the motor. it failed to work as it should, and matt kept at it until it was going properly. then, cautiously, he turned the power into the propeller. the machine, when started according to custom, got its initial impetus by having the power applied to a set of bicycle wheels. the blades of the propeller, slapping the air, however, developed a force that started the aëroplane, and matt had to shut off the power in a hurry. "sufferin' race horses!" murmured the astonished mcglory. "who ever heard of the like of that?" "mr. maxim discovered it first," replied matt. "why, he drove a boat through the water, at the rate of six miles an hour, merely by having a propeller turn in the air! but let's go to bed; we've a lot on hand for to-morrow." if the intrepid king of the motor boys had only guessed what was waiting for him in wells county, his sleep would probably not have been so sound or so peaceful as it was. chapter vi. the air line into trouble. motor matt had the wells county country firmly fixed in his mind. he had never been over it, but he had studied the map and secured a fairly good theoretical knowledge. sykestown was at the end of the branch road, the railroads east and west, and north and south, forming a right angle with respect to fort totten. carrington, the junction point, was at the corner of the angle. by using the aëroplane, matt believed he could fly straight across the gap between fort totten and sykestown, giving carrington a wide berth. there were some hills, but what were hills and roads to him while in the air? rough country would bother the automobile--it could not affect the aëroplane. aëroplanes, matt had gathered from his reading on the subject, were peculiar in this, that no two machines ever conduct themselves exactly the same in flight. a pair of "flyers" may be built exactly on the same model, with all dimensions and power equipment identical, and yet the moment they leave earth and launch themselves into the blue each develops eccentricities peculiar to itself. in a great measure, every machine has to be "learned." this was the one point that bothered matt. would the new aëroplane be easy or difficult to learn? if difficult, he might have to make a few trial flights at camp traquair before setting off for sykestown. morning dawned propitiously. the sun was bright, the day cloudless, and only a breath of air stirring. while the boys were at breakfast, cameron came chugging into camp with a powerful touring car--a six-cylinder, sixty horse, so trim and "classy"-looking that matt had to smother a fierce desire to drop into the driver's seat and change his plans. soldiers, under sergeant o'hara, were to strip the camp while the boys were away, removing everything to the post. in building the aëroplane, matt had made a number of departures from traquair's original designs. one of these was the equipping of the flying machine with two gasoline tanks instead of one, the supply of fuel being taken from either at will. with tanks full and oil chambers brimming, mcglory and cameron pushed the aëroplane into the road. just before matt took his seat the lieutenant tried to force upon him a loaded six-shooter. matt waved it away with a laugh. "i'd rather trust to my heels, cameron," he said, "than to one of those things." "but you might need it," insisted cameron. "couldn't use it if i did. when a fellow's up in an aëroplane both hands are occupied." "we'll keep up with you, pard," said mcglory. "i don't think you will, joe, if everything works as i hope and expect. i'm going in an air line, while you fellows will have to follow the road. where'll we meet in case we get separated?" "sykestown, to-morrow morning," suggested cameron. "all right," matt answered as he took his seat on the lower plane and swung his feet to the foot rest. "don't run with her to give her a start--let's see if i can't get her off without any help." mcglory, cameron, and ping drew away and watched. the motor began to pop, and then to settle into a steady hum. a pull at a lever sent the power into the bicycle wheels. the aëroplane leaped off along the hard road, gradually increasing its speed as the air under the wings continued to lighten the weight on the wheels. at a distance of a hundred feet the aëroplane soared into the air, under perfect control. those on the ground, as well as the soldiers engaged in stripping the camp, gave three hearty cheers. "hoop-a-la!" chattered ping. "him plenty fine cloud joss." "matt's aëroplane is a better one than that of traquair's--it flies steadier," averred cameron, enthusiastically. "speak to me about this!" muttered the cowboy, his eyes on the great white machine as it swooped upward and onward toward the west. "let's dig out, pards," he added, suddenly starting toward the automobile. "we've got to put in some mighty good licks if we keep up with mile-a-minute matt." ping had already thrown a bag of rations into the tonneau of the motor car, and cameron sprang around in front and began cranking. just as the engine took up its cycle, and cameron was starting to take his seat at the steering wheel, mcglory called his attention to a trooper who was galloping down from the direction of the post trader's. "what do you suppose that swatty is after, cameron?" the cowboy asked. "he's coming this way just a-smoking, and look how he's waving his arms. something's up." "we've got to wait for him," growled the lieutenant, "and that means we lose a couple of minutes. and we haven't got many minutes to waste," he added, with a look at the swiftly diminishing white speck in the western sky. "telegram for motor matt, leftenant," cried the trooper, reining in his horse and jerking a yellow envelope from his belt. "you're too late, latham," said cameron. "motor matt's swinging against the sky, a mile away." "the operator says it's important," insisted latham. "i hate to tamper with pard matt's telegrams," remarked mcglory, "but i reckon i'd better read this one. what do you say, cameron?" "read it--and be quick. i'll start, as i don't think there'll be any answer to send back. anyhow, if there should be an answer we'll forward it from minnewaukon." the fretting motor had its power thrown into the wheels. as it glided away at steadily increasing speed, mcglory tore the end off the envelope and drew out the inclosed sheet. the next moment he gave a wild yell. the cowboy was on the seat beside cameron, and the latter caught his breath and gave him an amazed sidelong look. mcglory's face had gone white under its tan and he had slumped back in his seat. "what in sam hill is the matter, mcglory?" cried cameron. the cowboy jerked himself together and leaned toward the lieutenant. "overhaul the flyin' machine!" he shouted hoarsely. "you've got to! if we don't get a word with matt something's sure going to happen to him." "how's that?" asked the startled cameron. ping, catching the general alarm, leaned over the back of the seat. "telle pidgin!" he implored. "what tleleglam say, huh?" "it's from mrs. traquair," replied mcglory. "from mrs. traquair?" echoed cameron. "then she's got away from murgatroyd and his rascally hirelings." "got away from 'em?" bellowed mcglory. "why, they never had her at that homestead! the whole blooming business is a frame-up, just as i thought, all along. murgatroyd and siwash charley are trying to play even with matt. hit her up, can't you, cameron? for heaven's sake, let her out! if you don't matt will get away from us and drop right into the hands of those scheming scoundrels." cameron pushed the automobile for all it was worth. the ground raced out from under the flying wheels. the road was like asphalt, and the speedometer indicator ran up and up until it pointed to fifty miles an hour. "do better than that!" cried mcglory, his wild eyes on the white speck in the sky. "you've got to do better than that, cameron. matt said he could do sixty miles. if you can't equal that, murg and his men will beat us out." cameron had sixty horses under the touch of his fingers, but there was nothing he could do to send the automobile at a faster gait. "where did the telegram come from?" he shouted, bending over the wheel and watching the road as it rushed toward the swaying car. "from jamestown," yelled mcglory. they had to talk at the top of their voices in order to make themselves heard in the wind of their flight. "what does it say?" "it says that mrs. traquair has been making a little visit with friends in fargo; that she has just got back and found matt's telegram; and that she is well. that proves that this whole game is a trap--hackberry, hackberry's letters, and all. oh, sufferin' tinhorns! i'm crazy to fight, crazy to do something to stop matt and to put a crimp in in that gang of sharks and double-dyed villains. can't you do any better than this, cameron?" cameron was doing all that he possibly could. the aëroplane was a mere speck against the blue of the sky, steadily increasing the distance that separated it from the racing automobile. "we no ketchee!" panted ping. "by klismus, motol matt all same eagle bird. woosh! no ketchee!" "the chink's got it right, mcglory," cried cameron. "unless something happens to the aëroplane we'll never overhaul it. matt's gaining on us right along." "and all we can do is to watch and let him gain," fumed the cowboy. "i feel like i did, once, when i was tied hand and foot and gagged while a gang of roughs were setting fire to a boathouse in which pard matt lay asleep. oh, speak to me about this!" then, all at once, the motor went wrong, and the car lost speed until it came to a dead stop. mcglory groaned. "of course this had to happen," he stormed. "if you're ever in a hurry something is bound to go wrong with these blooming chug carts. we're out of the race, cameron. take your time, take your time. hang the confounded luck, anyway." cameron got down and went feverishly to work locating the trouble. ping tumbled out of the tonneau and fluttered around, dancing up and down in his excitement and anxiety. mcglory did not get out of his seat. gloomily he kept his eyes on the fading speck in the heavens until he could see it no more. "it's out of sight," he muttered heavily. "the aëroplane?" asked cameron, fumbling with the sparking apparatus. "what else do you think i mean?" snapped the cowboy, in his worst humor. "matt's done for, and all we can do is sit here and let him rush on at the rate of a mile a minute straight into the trap that has been set for him. sufferin' snakes! did you ever run into anything like this before?" chapter vii. nothing doing in sykestown. cameron, by a happy blunder, finally located the trouble, and repaired it. mcglory had a little knowledge of motors and he might have helped, but his dejection was so profound that all he could do was to sit in the car, muttering to himself. "buck up, mcglory," said cameron, jerking the crank and noting that the motor took up its humming tune as well as ever. "while there's life there's hope, you know. we'll be able to do something yet." "oh, yes," gibed mcglory. "with a car going fifty miles we'll be able to overhaul a flying machine doing sixty." "of course," went on cameron, getting into the car and starting, "we can't expect to overtake matt unless something should go wrong with the aëroplane, but----" "if anything goes wrong with the aëroplane then matt breaks his neck. that won't do." "i was going to say," proceeded the lieutenant as he teased the car to its best pace, "that we're to meet matt at sykestown in the morning. if anything is to happen to him, mcglory, it will be on the other side of sykestown. calm down a little, can't you? we'll reach the meeting point by morning, all right, and then we can tell matt about the message from mrs. traquair." the cowboy had not thought of this point, and yet it was so simple that it should have occurred to him before. instantly his worry and alarm gave way to hope. "right you are, cameron," said he. "when i go into a taking i always lose my head and slip a cog. we can't catch up with matt. that's out of the question. as you say, though, we can sure find him in sykestown." the car swung into minnewaukon, and there was a momentary pause for counsel. "if matt's taking the air line, as he said he was going to do," remarked cameron, "then he'll be cutting the corner between here and sykestown. there are poor roads and bad hills on that lap, and we'll make better time by taking the longer way round and going by carrington." "maybe he didn't go that way," said mcglory. "if he has to come down for anything he'll have to have a fairly good stretch of trail in which to get a start before the flying machine can climb into the air. like as not he went by way of carrington, himself." "we'll soon settle that," and cameron made inquiries of a man who was standing beside the car. yes, the man had seen the aëroplane. it had passed over the town and went southwest. "that settles it, mcglory," said cameron. "matt cut the corner. if he'd gone by way of carrington he'd have started south." "he's taking a big chance on his machine going wrong," muttered the cowboy, "but matt can take more chances and come out right side up than any fellow you ever saw. it's carrington for us, though." cameron headed the machine southward and they flickered out of minnewaukon like a brown streak. nothing went wrong, and they hit a steady, forty-mile-an-hour gait and kept it up through lallie, oberon, sheyenne, divide, and new rockford. here and there was an occasional slough which they were obliged to go around, but the delay was unavoidable. it was three o'clock in the afternoon when they reached carrington, and they congratulated themselves on the ease with which they had covered so much of their journey. they halted for an hour in carrington, cameron and mcglory going over the machine and replenishing the gasoline and oil. at four they pulled out for sykestown, and had barely crossed the carrington town line before accidents began to happen. first, a front tire blew up. a flying stone gouged the shoe and the inner tube sprung a leak. an hour was lost repairing the damage. nevertheless, the cowboy kept his temper well in hand, for they had not planned to reach sykestown and meet matt before morning. a mile beyond the place where the tire had blown up the electricity went wrong; then the carburetor began to flood; and last of all the feed pipe became clogged. "let's leave the old benzine-buggy in the road and walk the rest of the way," suggested mcglory. "a pair of bronks and a wagon for me, any old day." it was eleven o'clock at night when they got into sykestown and pulled to a halt in front of the only hotel in the place. there was no garage, and cameron backed the car under an open shed in the rear of the hotel. while he was doing this, mcglory was making inquiries regarding motor matt. "nothing doing, cameron," announced the cowboy, meeting the lieutenant as he came into the hotel. "matt hasn't got here yet?" "he hasn't been seen or heard of. that's some queer, i reckon. he took a crosscut. coming at sixty miles an hour, barring accidents, he ought to have reached sykestown by noon." "well," said the optimistic lieutenant, "it's a good thing to know he hasn't got here and gone on without waiting for us. matt knows we were not to meet until morning. he may be waiting at some farmer's shack, somewhere out of town. let's get a hand-out and then go to bed. wrestling with a refractory motor is tiresome work." this was sensible advice, and the cowboy, although he did not accept cameron's explanation of matt's absence, concluded to accept it. mcglory was up at dawn, however, inquiring anxiously for news. there was none. taking a chair out in front of the hotel he sat down to wait. an hour later, ping came scuffling around the corner of the hotel. "where have you been, ping?" mcglory asked. "my makee sleep in choo-choo car," replied the chinaman, taking an upward squint at the sky with his slant eyes. "cloud joss no makee come, huh?" "nary, ping. i'm which and t'other about this, too. we're up against a rough game of some kind, and i'd give my eyeteeth to know what it is." "plaps motol matt makee lescue melican lady all by himself." "there's no melican lady to rescue, and that's the worst of it." at this moment cameron issued from the hotel. he had his khaki jacket over his arm and the handles of a brace of six-shooters showed above the tops of his hip pockets. "no sign of matt yet, eh?" he asked cheerily. "nary a sign, cameron," replied mcglory. "unless something had gone crossways, he'd have been on here early this morning." "i don't believe in crossing bridges until you get to them," said cameron, dropping down on a bench. "you know motor matt better than i do, mcglory," he went on, "but i'm well enough acquainted with him to know that he keeps his head with him all the time and never gets rattled." "he's the boy on the job, all right," averred the cowboy, with a touch of pride. "but what good's a cool head and plenty of pluck if a flying machine up-ends with you a couple of hundred feet in the air?" cameron grew silent, and a little bit thoughtful. "there was a still day yesterday," said he, at last, "and only a bit of a breeze this morning. it's not at all likely that any accident of that kind happened." "i'm not thinking of that so much as i am of murgatroyd and his gang," went on mcglory. "that bunch of tinhorns may have laid for matt somewhere between sykestown and minnewaukon." "hardly. they wouldn't be expecting him by air ship, and across country, the way he started." "hackberry, you remember, wanted him to get a horse and ride cross country." "but matt told hackberry he expected to reach sykestown by train. because of that, no matter what the plans of murgatroyd and his men were, they'd have to give over their designs and lay for matt somewhere between here and the traquair homestead." "that's where you're shy some more," said mcglory. "hackberry, coming on horseback from minnewaukon, hasn't got to where murg is, yet, so he can't have told him what matt was expecting to do. take it from me, cameron, there was a gang on that cross-country road, last night, layin' for our pard." "well, if there was," returned cameron easily, "then motor matt sailed over their heads. but all this is mere guesswork," he added, "and mighty poor guesswork, at that. we'll just wait here until matt shows up." there was a silence for a while, ping getting a crick in his neck holding his head back and watching the sky toward the north and east. "no makee see cloud joss," he murmured. neither mcglory nor cameron paid much attention to the report. if matt had been coming in the aëroplane the excitement in the town would quickly have apprised them of the fact. "i can't understand," said cameron musingly, "what this murgatroyd hopes to accomplish by all this criminal work." "you can't?" echoed mcglory. "well, matt butted into murgatroyd's game and knocked his villainous schemes galley-west. that don't make murg feel anyways good, does it? then there's siwash charley. he's a tinhorn and _mucho malo_, and there's no love lost between him and the king of the motor boys. what's the result if murg and siwash get matt in their clutches?" the cowboy scowled and ground his teeth. "you ought to be able to figure that out, cameron, just as well as i can." "murgatroyd isn't anybody's fool," said cameron. "he's not going to go to any desperate length with matt and run his neck into a noose." "murg won't, but what does siwash charley care? he's already badly wanted, and he's the sort of cold-game gent who does things when he's crossed. murg will play safe, but siwash is apt to break away from murg's plans and saw off with matt in his own way. what that way is i'm afraid to think about, or----" the noise of a motor was heard up the road, accompanied by the hollow rumble of a car crossing the bridge over pipestem creek. "another car coming this way," remarked cameron, looking in the direction from which the sound came. buildings intervened between the front of the hotel and the bridge, effectually shutting off the view. a moment after cameron had spoken, however, a big car came around a turn in the road and headed for the hotel. the car carried two passengers--a man and a woman. the moment the car hove in sight, the proprietor of the hotel came out and leaned against the wall of the building near the door. "i don't know what's to be done now," muttered the proprietor. "there's only room in that shed o' mine for one automobile, an' your machine is there. what'll mr. murgatroyd do with his car?" "murgatroyd!" exploded cameron, jumping to his feet. "murgatroyd!" cried mcglory. "woosh!" chattered ping. "we no ketchee matt, mebbyso we ketchee murg, huh?" up to that moment there had been nothing doing in sykestown; but now, with startling suddenness, there seemed to be plenty on the programme. chapter viii. brought to earth. if mcglory, cameron, and ping were delighted with the start of the new aëroplane, motor matt was doubly so. matt was "at the helm" and capable of appreciating the machine's performance as his friends could not do. preserving an equilibrium, and riding on a more or less even keel, is the hardest point to be met in navigating an aëroplane. the centre of wind pressure and the centre of gravitation is constantly changing, and each change must be instantly met by manipulating the wings. in the traquair machine, equilibrium was preserved by expanding or contracting the wing area, giving more resistance to the air on one side and less on the other, as necessity demanded. matt, facing westward in the direction of minnewaukon, could give no attention to his friends, every faculty being required for the running of the flying machine. every condition that had so far developed the aëroplane was meeting wonderfully well; but new conditions would constantly crop out and matt was still in doubt as to how the great planes and the motor would take care of them. at a height of a hundred feet he steadily opened up the throttle. faster and faster whirled the propeller, and below the machine the prairie rolled away with dizzy rapidity. almost before matt realized it he was over the town of minnewaukon, with the jubilant cheers of the citizens echoing in his ears. he made a half turn to lay the machine on her new course. the inner wing dipped as the aëroplane came around, but the expanding and contracting device kept the craft from going to a dangerous angle, and it came level again on the straightaway course. even on a day that seems still and quiet the air is a veritable maelstrom of conflicting currents close to the earth's surface. barns, houses, hills, trees deflect the streams of air and send them upward to churn and twist in numberless whirlpools. to get out of this unruly atmosphere an aëroplane must mount. having made sure of the machine's performance at a lower altitude, matt climbed higher. three hundred--four hundred--five hundred feet upward he went soaring, then rounded gracefully into a level course and was off at speed along the air line. it would be hard to describe the exultation that arose in the breast of the king of the motor boys. it was not alone that he was doing with an aëroplane something which had not before been attempted--striking out a new line for the air navigators of the world--but it was the joy of a new sensation that thrilled him, spiced with the knowledge that he was rubbing elbows with death every instant the machine was aloft. on his clear brain, his steady eye, and his quick hand hung his hope of life. a wrong twist of the lever at a critical time would overset the machine and fling it earthway, a fluttering mass of torn canvas, twisted wire ropes, and broken machinery, himself in the very centre of the wreck. higher above the earth the wind was stronger, but steadier, and the motor hurried the aëroplane along at its top speed. it was difficult for matt to estimate the rate at which he was traveling. there were no landmarks to rush past him and give him an inkling of his speed. once, however, he saw a farmhouse in the distance ahead; and he barely saw it before it was swept behind and lost to his eyes under the lower plane. wherever he saw a road he followed it. if anything happened, and he was obliged to descend, a flat stretch of hard earth would help him to remount into the air again. matt had secured his watch on the seat beside him so that he was able to glance at its face from time to time. he had started from camp traquair at eight o'clock. when the hands of the watch indicated nine-thirty, he made up his mind to descend at the most favorable point on the surface below him. he presently found the place he wanted, hard by a farmhouse, shut off the power and glided downward. a kick at a footlever dropped the bicycle wheels into position, and the aëroplane brushed against the earth of a hard road, moved a little way on the wheels, and then came to a stop. a man and a boy, who had been watching the strange sky monster from a wheatfield, hurried toward the machine as soon as it had come to a stop. they were full of excitement, and asked many questions, to all of which matt patiently replied while looking around to see that wings, rudders, and motor were still in perfect condition. "how far is it to sykestown?" matt asked, as soon as his examination was finished. "about a hundred miles," answered the man. "and how far are you from minnewaukon?" "eighty miles." "great spark plugs!" laughed matt, resuming his seat in the machine; "i'm traveling some, all right. i've been only an hour and a half coming from totten." "do tell!" gasped the man, in wonder. "why, neighbor, them there hossless wagons couldn't travel much quicker'n that!" "i should say not! i've some friends following me in an automobile, but they're nowhere in sight." matt got the bicycle wheels to turning. when they were carrying the aëroplane at the rate of thirty miles an hour the planes took the lift of the air and swung upward clear of the earth. a pull at the gear turned the power into the propeller, and away rushed the machine like a new style of comet. "i'm going to reach sykestown in time for dinner," thought matt, "and mcglory and cameron are not expecting to meet me there until to-morrow morning. i'd have time to go to the traquair homestead to-night and perhaps get mrs. traquair out of the shack and carry her in to sykestown." the idea appealed to matt. talk about a test for an aëroplane! a manoeuvre of that sort would put the traquair machine far and away ahead of any air craft so far invented. what heavier-than-air machine was there that could travel away from its starting point and keep going, asking no odds of anything but gasoline and oil and a firm surface for launching into the void? this demonstration of the new aëroplane was succeeding beyond motor matt's wildest dreams. "we'll not take her apart and put her in a crate to send her to washington," thought the jubilant young motorist. "i'll fly her there. i didn't think the machine could travel and hold her own like this!" having plenty of time at his disposal, he began manoeuvring at various heights, slowing down and increasing his speed, and mounting and descending. in the midst of this fascinating work, he caught sight of an automobile in the road below him. the car contained only two passengers--a man and a woman--and was proceeding in the direction matt was following. the car was traveling rapidly, but not so rapidly as the aëroplane. matt decided to swing the aëroplane to a point alongside the automobile and not more than a dozen feet above the ground, traveling in company with the car and making inquiries of the man in the driver's seat. if he carried out his plan to go to the traquair homestead that night, it would be well to learn something about the location of the farm, and the man in the automobile might be able to give him the information he required. no sooner had he made up his mind what he was going to do than he proceeded to put the plan into execution. hovering over the automobile, he slowed down the engine, turned the small steering planes in front and slipped down the slope of air as easily as a hawk coming to earth. some fifteen feet above the prairie, just far enough to the right of the automobile so that the left-hand wings cleared the car safely, matt struck into a horizontal course. he had not had a good look at the man in the car, as yet, although both the man and the girl were watching his movements with the utmost curiosity. "hello!" called matt, still keeping his eyes ahead and holding his mind to the work of attending to the air ship. there was no answer, or, if there was, matt did not hear it. "are you acquainted with the country around here?" matt went on. "a little," came the response from the man. "could you tell me where harry traquair used to live?" "you'll have to bear off to the right if you go there. the traquair homestead is twenty miles from----" something in the voice drew matt's eyes quickly to the man. "murgatroyd!" cried the young motorist. "great spark plugs!" a twist of the rear rudder sent the aëroplane away from the road; a touch of the lever increased the machine's speed; then, the next moment, he would have mounted high into the air--had not something happened. the crack of a rifle came from below, followed by the crang of a bullet on metal, a woman's scream, and a sickening lurch of the aëroplane. matt tumbled from the lower wing, and then experienced a shock that almost drove his spine up through the top of his head. dazed and bewildered, he lay where he had fallen. chapter ix. the coil tightens. matt's brain was a jumble of vague and half-formed ideas. he did not seem able to grasp any notion firmly, or hold to it realizingly. as his brain began to clear, its first lucid thought had to do with the rifle shot and the man in the automobile. instinctively he turned his head so that he could have a view of the road. the automobile had come to a halt a little distance away. the woman, who had been riding in the tonneau and who must have given the scream which was still echoing in matt's ears, had thrown open the car door and stepped down from the machine. she was young and pretty, wore a long dust-coat and had the ends of a veil flying out behind her well-shaped head. matt shifted his eyes to murgatroyd. the latter was coolly getting out of the car. reaching back, as soon as his feet had touched ground, he pulled a rifle from one of the seats, turned and walked a little way toward matt, halted and leaned on the gun. he did not speak, but his dark, piercing eyes roved over matt and then leaped on beyond, to where the aëroplane was lying. matt withdrew his gaze to give it to murgatroyd's fair companion. "are you hurt?" cried the girl, as motor matt lifted himself and looked toward her. "what is it to you, or that scoundrel with you, whether i am hurt or not?" he answered angrily. a hurt look crossed the girl's face. she had been hurrying toward matt, but she now paused and drew back. "your business is with me, motor matt, and not with my niece," snapped murgatroyd sharply. "she doesn't know anything about our affairs, and is undoubtedly feeling hard toward me because i fired that shot and brought you down." "why did you do that, uncle amos?" demanded the girl shrilly. "you might have killed him!" "no danger of that, amy," was the cool answer. "i shouldn't have tried to bring him down if he had been high enough in the air for the fall to hurt him." "why did you try to bring him down, anyhow?" the girl's alarm was merging rapidly into indignation and protest. "well," said murgatroyd, "i wanted to talk with him, and he didn't seem at all anxious to stay alongside the automobile." "so you ruined his flying machine and took the chance of hurting him!" "get back in the car, amy," ordered murgatroyd sharply. "you don't understand what you are talking about. this young rascal deserves all he receives at my hands, and more." "he doesn't look like a rascal, or----" "will you mind?" murgatroyd turned and pointed toward the car. the girl hesitated a moment, then walked slowly back to the automobile and climbed into the tonneau. matt, meantime, had picked himself up, glad to find that he had no broken bones. he was bruised and sore, and his coat was torn, but he did not care for that. he had had a lucky escape, and just at that moment was more concerned about the aëroplane than he was about himself. the flying machine, so far as matt could see, did not appear to be very badly broken. "i'll hold you responsible for this, amos murgatroyd," said matt, turning on the broker. "it was an unprovoked attack." "you've given me plenty of cause to lay violent hands on you," answered murgatroyd. "what are you doing in this part of the country?" "that's my business, not yours." a snaky, malevolent smile crossed murgatroyd's smooth face. "it may be my business, too," said he. "you asked for the traquair homestead. is it your intention to go there?" "i don't care to discuss that point with you. just understand that you'll be called on to answer for all the trouble you have caused me and also mrs. traquair. this scoundrelly attack on my aëroplane will come in for part of the accounting." "yes?" was the sarcastic response. "the machine, to look at it from here, hasn't the appearance of being very badly hurt. suppose we give it a closer inspection?" matt wondered at the man's desire to learn more about the damage to the aëroplane. it was an hour or so before the reason was made clear to him. keeping a wary eye on murgatroyd's rifle, matt stepped over to the aëroplane. the bullet had struck one of the propeller blades, snapping it off. the blade, in turn, had struck and cut through one of the small wire cables that formed a stay for the rear rudder. "you've put the machine out of business," said matt. "the fall, too, may have damaged the motor pretty seriously. i can't tell that until i make a closer examination." "it will take you an hour or two, i suppose, to get the machine repaired?" "an hour or two!" exclaimed matt. "i shall have to get some farmer to haul it to the blacksmith shop, in sykestown." a guileful grin swept like an ill-omened shadow across murgatroyd's face. without another word he went to the automobile, climbed to the driver's seat, leaned the rifle against the seat beside him, and started the car. he did not continue on toward sykestown, but made a turn and went back over the course he had recently covered. "the scoundrel!" cried matt. "he knew i was here to do what i could for mrs. traquair--that question i asked him about the homestead would have proven that, even if he had not guessed it from the mere fact of my being in this section. he injured the aëroplane to keep me from carrying out any plan i might have for the rescue of mrs. traquair. he knows it will take me some time to get the aëroplane fixed, and while i'm doing that he'll be moving mrs. traquair from the homestead to some other place. that's why he was so anxious to find out how badly the machine was damaged. if it hadn't been seriously broken, no doubt he'd have put another bullet into it. he'll pay for this if i've anything to say about it." for a few moments matt sat down on the prairie and looked ruefully at the helpless aëroplane. this reverse meant much to motor matt. quite likely it would prevent the sale of the machine to the government, for it was now practically certain the aëroplane could not be repaired and turned over to the government for shipment east by the first of the month. this would have been impossible, even if matt had had leisure to repair the damage--which he did not have on account of the necessity he was under of helping mrs. traquair. how far back on the road the last house was situated matt could not remember. he would have to go there, however, and hire the farmer to transport the aëroplane to sykestown. the quicker this was done, and the sooner the damage was repaired, then the more speedily he could use the machine in helping mrs. traquair. if repairs were going to consume too much time, then he could join cameron, mcglory, and ping and go to the traquair homestead in the lieutenant's borrowed motor car. greatly cast down by his reverse, yet firmly determined to carry out his original purpose at any cost, matt set his face back along the road. he was guessing good and hard about the young woman who was in the automobile with murgatroyd. she was the broker's niece, but she was not in favor of any of his villainous designs--that fact was beyond dispute. if the girl felt in this way, why had murgatroyd had her along while pursuing his dark schemes against mrs. traquair? it was an enigma that baffled matt. he gave up trying to guess it, and began reproaching himself for becoming so easily entangled with the motor car and its scoundrelly owner. he should have made sure that the man was not an enemy before bringing the aëroplane so close. it is always easy to look back over our conduct and discover the mistakes. in the present case, matt was blaming himself when there was really no cause for it. if anything was at fault it was fate, which had brought the disastrous encounter to pass. every step matt took reminded him of his bruises. his head throbbed and every bone in his body seemed to ache. he continued to stride rapidly onward, however, keeping his eyes constantly ahead in the hope of discovering a farmhouse. suddenly he saw a fog of dust rising from the trail in the distance. the cloud was moving toward him and he had a quick thought that it might be the automobile. the next moment the dust was whipped aside by the rising wind, and he was sure of it. the car was coming, but there was only one man in the driver's seat. the girl had vanished from the tonneau. "murgatroyd took her to some farmhouse," ran matt's startled thought, "and he is coming back to try some more villainous work." the young motorist's fists clinched instinctively, and a fierce gleam darted into his gray eyes. "we'll see about that," he muttered, between his teeth. the automobile came on swiftly, and murgatroyd brought it to a standstill close beside matt. "get in here," the broker ordered, nodding his head toward the tonneau. "i've got other business on hand," answered matt. "if you're going on to finish wrecking the aëroplane----" "don't be a fool!" snarled the broker, standing up and lifting his rifle. "i've invited you to get into the car, but i can _order_, if you force me to do that, and back up the order with this gun." "you've used that gun once to-day, murgatroyd," said matt, giving the broker a defiant look, "and i guess you'll find that's enough." he passed on along the roadside close to the side of the automobile. the door of the tonneau was open. as he came abreast of it, a form that had been hiding in the bottom of the car leaped out. matt, taken by surprise, tried to leap away. before he could do so, however, he was in the grip of a pair of strong arms, and the face of siwash charley was leering into his. "this hyer's once things didn't come yer way, my bantam!" gritted siwash charley. "stop yer squirmin', or i'll give ye a tap on the head that'll put ye out o' bizness." chapter x. the door in the hillside. in spite of siwash charley's threat, matt struggled as fiercely as he could. with a muttered curse, the ruffian drew back one fist. "steady there, siwash!" cried murgatroyd. "don't be any rougher with him than you can help. wait! i'll come down there and lend a hand while we get a rope on him." murgatroyd picked up a rope from the bottom of the car, jumped to the ground and came rapidly up behind matt. between the two of them, the scoundrels succeeded in bearing the young motorist to the ground and putting lashings on his hands and feet. siwash charley lifted himself scowling and drew his shirt sleeve across his damp forehead. "he's a fighter, all right," he muttered, "but he kin gamble on it that we've got the upper hand o' him now." "you took the girl away and got siwash charley, eh, murgatroyd?" asked matt. "you're a young man of rare perception," was the broker's sarcastic response. "you'll both pay for this," went on matt steadily. "who'll make us pay?" grunted siwash charley. "not you, my bantam. i've got inter enough trouble on your account, an' i ain't intendin' ter git inter any more." this was a luminous remark of siwash charley's. matt would have liked to ask him how he expected to keep out of trouble by continuing his lawless work, but there was not time. lifting the prisoner roughly siwash charley heaved him onto the seat in the tonneau, and slammed the door; then siwash got up in front. murgatroyd was turning the engine over. when he was done, he climbed to the driver's seat and started the car. he did not go on toward sykestown, but, as before, made in the opposite direction. "what is the meaning of this?" demanded matt. "ye'll know," answered siwash charley, turning around savagely, "when ye find out--an' not afore." "where are you taking me?" persisted matt. "ye'll find that out quicker'n ye'll find out the other." there was clearly no satisfaction to be got out of siwash charley. "something will happen to that aëroplane," said matt, "if it's left alone on the prairie." "don't worry erbout that thar flyin' machine. we're goin' ter take keer o' it." "murgatroyd," cried matt, "if you do any more injury to that machine, you'll have to pay for it." "sing small," answered the broker, giving all his attention to his driving; "you'll be a whole lot wiser before i'm done with you." "that machine," went on matt, "is to be delivered to the government, at fort totten, on the first of next month. if it isn't, i'll lose the sale of it. if you keep me from making the sale, you'll have to pay the government price--fifteen thousand dollars." siwash charley lay back in his seat and guffawed loudly. "talks big, don't he, murg?" said he. "talk's cheap," was the laconic answer. owing to his bonds, matt had difficulty in keeping himself upright on the seat while the automobile pitched and slewed along the road. when two or three miles had been covered, murgatroyd turned the machine from the road and drove toward a range of hills, or coteaus, that fringed the horizon in the northwest. over the crisp, crackling grass the heavy car passed, now and then chugging into a gopher hole and slamming matt around in the tonneau. when they had reached the foot of the hills, murgatroyd followed along the foot of the range and finally halted. "this will do," said the broker. "take the ropes off his feet, siwash, and make him walk. i guess he won't try to get away. you can keep a grip on him and i'll trail along with the rifle." "oh, i guess he won't try any foolishness with me," cried siwash, swinging down from the car, "not if he knows what's best fer him." opening the tonneau door, siwash charley reached in and removed the rope from matt's ankles. "come out here," he ordered. murgatroyd stood up in front, rifle in hand, and watched to see that the order was obeyed. matt supposed that all this was to keep him from going to traquair's homestead and helping mrs. traquair. but, bound as he was, and with two desperate men for captors, he was helpless. without a word he got up and stepped out of the car. siwash charley caught his arm and led him toward a steep hillside, murgatroyd following with the rifle. at the foot of the almost perpendicular wall of earth they stopped. "hold the gun on him, murg," said siwash, "while i fix the winder so'st ter throw a little light inter the dugout." "go ahead," answered the broker curtly. siwash stepped apart. matt, with ill-concealed astonishment, saw him push a hand along the hillside and push back a square curtain of canvas painted the color of the yellowish brown of the dried grass. a small window was revealed. to the right of the window another curtain was lifted, disclosing a door. siwash opened the door and stepped back with an ill-omened grin. "conduct the gent inter the hang-out, murg," he leered. "go on," ordered murgatroyd, touching matt with the muzzle of the rifle. "what kind of a place is this?" asked matt, hesitating. "look at it from the inside an' mebby ye'll have a better notion of it," answered siwash, grabbing matt's arm and hustling him through the doorway. motor matt's heart sank when he looked around at the earthen walls of the excavation. it looked like a prison, and undoubtedly it was to be a prison for him. "i'll make him lay down on the shelf," observed siwash, "an' tie him thar." "put him in a chair and tie him to that," said murgatroyd. "he'll have to lie down at night, and change of position will be something of a rest for him. i don't want to be any rougher than we have to." "bah!" snorted siwash. "from the way ye talk, murg, a person 'u'd think ye had a weak heart. but i know diff'rent. i shouldn't think ye'd be so onreasonable when ye stop ter think o' the hole this feller's got us both inter." "he's going to get us out of the hole, and give me something i've set my heart on, besides. i reckon he's entitled to all the consideration we can give him." siwash kicked a chair forward and pushed matt into it; then, with another rope, he tied the prisoner with coil on coil, drawn taut about his legs, waist, and shoulders. when siwash was done, matt could hardly shift his position an inch. "now," proceeded murgatroyd briskly, "we'll have to hurry. i left my niece at a farmhouse, and i want to get back there and make sure that she doesn't cause any trouble." "trouble? what kind o' trouble kin she make?" "she's not used to this sort of work, and it was tough luck that she was in the car when motor matt came along in that flying machine. she's very much put out with me because i fired a bullet into the aëroplane in order to stop motor matt. she's a girl of spirit, and i must talk with her to make sure she doesn't do something that will play hob with my plans." "wimmen ain't no good, anyhow," growled siwash charley. "will ye go right on ter sykestown ter-night?" "i think not. it will be best to stay at the farmhouse until i make sure whether my talk will do any good. if i think amy will leave my hands free, we'll make for town in the morning." murgatroyd turned to matt. "where's mcglory?" he asked. "i don't know," matt answered. "was he to meet you in sykestown?" matt was silent. "ye kin gamble, murg, that cowboy feller was ter meet him some'r's. wharever ye find one of 'em ye're purty sure ter find t'other. i'm wonderin' why mcglory wasn't in the flyin' machine along with motor matt." "if they were to meet anywhere," said murgatroyd, "it was in sykestown. motor matt would hardly try to rescue mrs. traquair alone." a snaky smile accompanied the last words. siwash charley chuckled. "it worked like a house afire," the latter muttered. "bring writing materials, siwash," said the broker. the other went to a box cupboard, swinging against the wall, and brought out some paper and envelopes, a bottle of ink and a pen. these he placed on the table in front of murgatroyd. "how many letters ye goin' ter write, murg?" queried siwash, hanging expectantly over the table. "three," replied the broker. "one letter will be sent to lieutenant cameron, another to joe mcglory, and another to mrs. traquair." matt could not understand these allusions to mrs. traquair. if she was a prisoner at the homestead, why was murgatroyd writing a letter? it required an hour's time to write the three letters. murgatroyd allowed siwash to read each one as soon as it was finished. siwash became jubilant as the reading progressed. when the last letter had been gone over, he brought his fist down on the table with a smashing blow. "they'll do the trick, by jinks!" he declared. "ye'll git what ye're arter, murg, an' so'll i. thunder, but i wisht i had your head!" "it takes something of a head to make money and keep out of jail, these times," laughed murgatroyd, getting up. the letters were folded and put in the addressed envelopes, and murgatroyd slipped the three missives into his pocket. "i'm off, now, siwash," said he, stepping toward the door. "it may take a week to wind up this business, and it may not take more than three days. see that the prisoner don't get away, whatever you do." "waal, ye kin bank on me from the drap o' the hat!" cried siwash charley effusively. "blamed if i ever had anythin' ter do with sich a slick game as this afore, an' it does me proud ter have a hand in it. count on me, murg, count on me!" with a derisive grin at motor matt, murgatroyd stepped through the door in the hillside. a few moments later matt could hear his automobile gliding off across the prairie. chapter xi. a revelation for matt. motor matt, in spite of his helpless situation, was not at all worried about his own safety. what did alarm him, though, was the plot which murgatroyd seemed to be putting through with so much success. why had the broker written the letters to cameron, mcglory, and mrs. traquair? what did they contain? and why should a letter be written to mrs. traquair when she, like matt, was supposed to be a prisoner of murgatroyd's? these were all matters of grave import, and the king of the motor boys turned them over and over in his mind. he knew that murgatroyd, for some reason of his own, was intensely eager to secure the traquair homestead. probably he could have bought it for a fair amount, but that was not the broker's way. he had made his money by lending on mortgages, and then foreclosing, thus securing property for a fraction of its value. this seemed to be his desire in the present instance, and he was taking long chances to put his plans through. siwash charley, after the broker was gone, was in great good humor. he gave matt a drink of water from a pail on the earthen shelf, and then filled and lighted his pipe and dropped down on a cot. for purposes of ventilation the door was left open, and matt, his brain puzzled and bewildered, watched the sun sinking into the west. the afternoon was drawing to a close. somewhere, along the road to sykestown, mcglory, cameron, and ping were making their way in the borrowed motor car. during the night, if all went well, the party should reach sykestown. matt would not be there to meet them in the morning: but murgatroyd would be there, and would scarcely be able to evade cameron and mcglory. what matt's friends would do when they encountered the broker was problematical. matt had abundant faith in cameron's good judgment, and in his cowboy pard's courage and determination. something of importance would happen, the king of the motor boys was sure, and that something would be of help to mrs. traquair. "what's murgatroyd up to, siwash?" asked matt. "he knows, an' i know, but you don't," answered siwash, "an' what's more, ye ain't a-goin' to. so stop yer quizzin'." "why is he writing to mrs. traquair if she's a prisoner of his, out on the traquair homestead?" once more siwash enjoyed himself. "he's goin' ter send the letter out thar," replied siwash. "now stop askin' questions. ye'd better be congratulatin' yerself that we're handlin' ye so keerful. arter what ye've done ter murg an' me, knockin' ye on the head an' drappin' ye inter some slough wouldn't be none too good. howsumever, ye're wuth more ter us alive than ye air with yer boots on--which is mainly whar yer luck comes in. hungry?" "yes." "then i'll git ye a snack." siwash went to the cupboard from which he had brought the writing materials and secured some dried beef and crackers. removing a knife from his pocket, he began cutting the dried beef into small pieces. there was something about the knife that reminded matt of the rusty dagger ping had found in the woods, and recalling the dagger brought cameron's story of goff fortescue abruptly to matt's mind. the prisoner eyed siwash sharply. there was that about the ruffian that suggested the soldier--a certain precision of movement acquired in the ranks. matt began to whistle softly. for a moment siwash charley paid no attention; then, as the air matt was whistling came to him, he lifted suddenly and glared. "stop yer whistlin'," he snapped. "do you know what that is, siwash?" he asked. "no!" almost shouted the scoundrel. "they call it reveille up at the post. here's 'stable call'----" siwash made one spring at matt, the knife still gripped in his fist. he flashed the blade in front of matt's eyes. "if i thought--if i thought----" siwash breathed the words hoarsely and stared menacingly at matt. there followed an awkward silence. presently siwash turned away and went on carving the dried beef. "i don't want ter hear 'stable call' nor nothin' else," he snarled. "don't like whistlin' nohow. shut up, or i'll put a gag between yer jaws." matt deemed it best to keep silent after that. nevertheless, it seemed to him as though he had touched a raw spot in siwash charley's past history. had cameron got the matter right? was siwash charley really the deserter, cant phillips? when the food was ready, matt asked siwash to release his hands so that he could help himself. but siwash refused, and the prisoner was compelled to take his food from the ruffian's hairy paws. a change appeared to come over siwash charley. he was moody and reflective, and kept his pipe going continuously. leaning back against the earthen wall of the room, he surrounded himself with a fog of vapor, which, because of the poor ventilation of the dugout, almost stifled motor matt. the sun went down in a blaze of red, night fell, and siwash closed the door and lighted the lamp. he neglected to curtain the window, however, which may have been an oversight on his part. matt fell to musing upon the aëroplane, and about the watch which he had left on the aëroplane seat. would anything happen to the machine while he was a prisoner in the hands of murgatroyd and siwash? he roused up suddenly. "siwash," he asked, "what's going to be done with that flying machine?" "i've had all i want out o' you," growled the ruffian, with savage emphasis. "if ye know when ye're well off, ye'll hush." matt "hushed." frogs began to croak, and their husky voices came faintly to the prisoner's ears. somewhere inside the dugout a cricket chattered. a rat ran over matt's feet and a lizard crawled slowly along the earthen shelf at his side. "a pleasant hole, this," muttered matt grimly; then, again and again, thoughts of those three letters recurred to his puzzled mind. siwash fell asleep in his chair, and his snores were added to the weird sounds that drifted in from the prairie. matt's limbs, bruised and sore from the fall out of the aëroplane, felt numb from the bonds. his whole body was aching, and his head throbbed as though a thousand demons were pounding it with hammers. but, in spite of his pain and discomfort, he fell to wondering if there was not some way by which he could free himself from his bonds. he had an invincible nature, and never gave up a fight so long as there was breath in his body. slowly he began an effort to free himself. it was a fruitless attempt, doubly bound as he was, and his desperate labors caused the chair to overturn and land him sprawling on the clay floor. the noise awoke siwash charley. "tryin' ter git loose, hey?" he cried with an oath. "i ought ter make ye sit up all night fer that, an' i got a blame' good notion." roughly he jerked the chair upright and began removing the coils of rope. when they were off, he examined the cords at matt's wrists. "go over an' lay down on the cot," he ordered. matt's feet were free, and, had the door been open, he would have been tempted to make a dash through it and try to lose himself from his captor in the darkness of the open prairie. passing over to the cot he dropped down on it, and siwash tied him there with more coils of rope, passing them around and around the side pieces of the cot, under and over it. the change of position was a rest, in a measure, although the tight wrist cords kept matt's arms numb clear to his shoulders. it had been a trying day, and matt presently dropped off to sleep. the hour was late when he closed his eyes. although he had no means of telling the exact time, yet he knew it could not be far from midnight. a mellow chink as of metal awoke him. he opened his eyes and saw daylight shining through the window. siwash was at the table, humped over it and counting a small store of yellow gold. an old leather pouch lay on the table beside the coins. matt, cramped and in an agony of discomfort, was on the point of crying out and asking to be untied from the cot and put back in the chair, but he saw a head push across the window on the outside of the dugout, and the call died suddenly on his lips. it was the face of hackberry! hope arose in motor matt's breast. hackberry was a friend, in some manner he had learned where matt had been taken, and he had come to his rescue! scarcely breathing, matt watched the face of the man at the window. hackberry was not looking at matt, but had centred his attention on siwash. the latter, finishing his count of the gold pieces, swept them from the table and into the pouch; then, crossing to the wall by the cupboard, he knelt down, removed a flat stone, and pushed his yellow wealth into its cache. after placing the stone in position once more, siwash charley got up and stepped toward the door. before he could open it, the door was pushed ajar in his face. "pecos!" exclaimed siwash, startled. "shore," laughed pecos. "ye didn't think it would take me more'n a day and a night to git back from totten, did ye? the hoss is plumb tired, an' i've jest picketed him close to water an' grass. and the scheme worked, hey?" he went on, with a grin at matt. "i reckoned i'd put up a purty good bluff." here was a revelation for matt, a revelation that broke over him in a flash and brought with it a grievous disappointment. a clever trap had been laid by murgatroyd, and, in spite of all his precautions in testing hackberry's story, matt had walked into it! chapter xii. pecos takes a chance. "was that story of yours a lie?" demanded motor matt. "well," drawled pecos, "it wasn't exactly the truth, not as anybody knows of. i gave it to you jest as murg give it to me, an' it certainly took fine!" the astounded expression on matt's face caused siwash charley to go into another roar of mirth. it was a very good joke--to siwash and pecos jones. pecos, riding over to fort totten, had claimed to be an honest homesteader, doing his utmost to help a neighbor in distress. the idea of pecos jones posing as an honest homesteader still further added to siwash charley's enjoyment. "isn't mrs. traquair at the homestead?" inquired matt. "not onless she went thar o' her own accord--which i don't reckon possible." "and your claim doesn't join the traquair quarter section?" "oh, but that's rich!" whooped siwash charley, wiping his bleared eyes. when matt's amazement left him he felt a sense of relief. it was something to know that mrs. traquair wasn't in danger, something to feel that he had now only himself to think about. "i'm hungry," said pecos jones, throwing himself down on the shelf. "got any grub, siwash?" "don't i allers have grub?" returned siwash. "it's thar in the cupboard, pecos. help yerself." pecos helped himself to a chunk of beef and a handful of crackers. "i reckon," he observed as he ate, "i ought ter have a good bit o' money fer what i done, eh, siwash?" siwash charley immediately grew cold and formal. "why, you little wart," he answered, "how much pay d'ye want fer goin 'ter totten an' back? ain't sixty dollars enough?" "it was my work as done the trick," protested pecos. "i'll bet murg is givin' you a hull lot more'n sixty cases." "that's my bizness an' murg's. sixty you got, an' sixty's all ye git." pecos looked at his diminishing piece of beef reflectively. "well," he remarked, "you an' me's allers been good friends, siwash, so i reckon we needn't ter quarrel. oh, i come purty nigh fergittin'. on my way here i rode past jessup's shack. murg come out an' hailed me an' said he wanted ye ter come over there, right away." "thunder! why didn't ye tell me afore?" "ye ain't lost much time. take yer own hoss, don't put a bridle on mine. my critter's all tired out. how long'll ye be?" "it won't take me more'n an hour ter go an' come," answered siwash, picking up his hat. "if murg don't keep me long, i reckon i'll be back in an hour an' a half. what d'ye think he wants me fer?" "give it up. he ain't tellin' me any more o' his bizness than what he has ter." "no more he ain't, an' i reckon it's a good plan, too. i suppose it's somethin' about that niece o' his. don't let motor matt bamboozle ye. if he gits contrary, thar's murg's rifle leanin' in the corner." "i don't need no rifle while i got these," and pecos patted the handles of two revolvers that showed at his hips. "waal, so long, pecos," said siwash, moving toward the door. "the ole man may be in a hurry, so i'll tear away." he disappeared, and pecos continued to munch his bread and crackers. a few minutes later, through the open door, matt and pecos saw siwash pounding away across the prairie. immediately pecos jones' manner underwent a change. stuffing what remained of his crackers and dried beef into his jacket pockets, he ran to the door and watched. "he's gone," murmured pecos, "an' i got an hour, anyway. sixty cases, eh?" he snarled. "what i done's wuth more, an' if murg won't give it i take it, anyhow." without paying the least attention to matt, who was watching proceedings in amazement, pecos ran to the wall and dropped down on his knees. removing the big, flat stone, he threw it to one side and pushed his hand into the secret cache. presently he drew out the leather pouch and gave a croaking laugh as he shook it over his head and listened to the jingle of gold. "i'll l'arn 'em ter beat me out o' what's my due!" he cried. "i'll git on my hoss an' dodge away inter the hills. if siwash kin find me, then he's welcome ter take his money back. wonder if there's anythin' else in there?" again pecos bent down, thrust his arm into the hole, and drew out a suitcase, mouldy and stained. pecos weighed it in his hands, shook it, then cast it from him. "nothin' there!" he grumbled, and got to his feet. a thrill shot through matt. pecos had seen siwash counting his money and putting it away in the secret cache. being a man of no principle, and believing that he had been poorly paid, he had made up his mind to steal all he could get his hands on and leave while siwash was away at jessup's. while he was handling the suitcase matt had seen, on one end of the mouldy piece of luggage, the letters, "g. f." there was no doubt but that siwash charley was cant phillips! no doubt but that this satchel, drawn out of the earthen cache by pecos, was the dishonored officer's luggage--the very receptacle which had contained the san francisco plans! "pecos!" cried matt, as the thief darted toward the door. the man paused. "i ain't got no time ter bother with you," he answered. "you got me into this," begged matt, "and why not set me at liberty?" "i'm takin' enough from siwash, i reckon," said pecos. "but if it hadn't been for you i wouldn't be where i am now." "an' if ye wasn't where ye are now," answered pecos, by a strange process of reasoning, "i wouldn't be entitled ter this!" he shook the jingling pouch. "i've got money in my pocket----" "oh, ye have!" cried pecos, with a complete change of front. "that's diff'rent." he pushed the pouch into the breast of his coat and came to the side of the cot. "i'll give it to you," said matt, "provided you take the ropes off my hands." "ye don't have ter give, my buck, so long as i kin take! i'll not let ye go, but i'll take what ye got an' save siwash the trouble." matt's personal property had not been tampered with by his captors--probably on orders issued by murgatroyd, who seemed to have his own ideas about how the prisoner should be treated. pecos, in feverish haste, bent over matt and tried to get at his pockets. the tightly drawn coils of the rope interfered. swearing volubly, he grabbed up siwash charley's knife from the table and hacked one of the coils in half. this cutting of one coil released all the others, and pecos was free to pursue his search unhindered. with a grunt of exultation he drew a small roll of bills from matt's pocket, stuffed it into his trousers, and was away like a shot. matt had the use of his feet, and, now that the coils securing him to the cot had been severed, he was able to rise to a sitting posture. for a few moments his brain whirled dizzily. just as it began to resume its normal condition, a thump of galloping hoofs sounded outside the door, and matt struggled erect and reeled to the opening. pecos jones was putting his tired horse to its best pace. odd as it seemed to matt, he was hurrying in the direction of sykestown. perhaps that was the best course for pecos to take if he wanted to avoid siwash. he would not go into the town, but could give it a wide berth, and make for regions to the southward. weak and tortured with his numbed limbs, matt sank down on the earthen shelf. bound though he was, matt knew he could escape. siwash, as yet, had not been gone half an hour. he would certainly be back in an hour, full of wrath and eager for revenge. matt did not believe that murgatroyd had sent for siwash, but that pecos had told the story simply to get the other out of the way while the robbery was being perpetrated. if this was true--and matt felt positive that it was--the fury of siwash would pass all bounds. it would be better for matt not to be there when siwash returned, but there was goff fortescue's suit case. matt felt that he was in duty bound to take it with him, and this he could not do unless he had the use of his hands. how was he to free himself? the knife lay on the floor where pecos had dropped it--and the knife suggested possibilities. getting up from the shelf, he walked over to the knife and knelt with it between his feet; then, with his numbed fingers, he fumbled for the blade, lifted it upright, and shoved his feet together with the knife between his heels, edge side out. this manoeuvre took time, for matt had to try again and again, but at last the blade had a fairly rigid support, with the handle between his heels and the back of the knife against his body. after resting a moment--for the work, so trifling in the telling, had brought into torturing play every muscle--he pushed the wrist cords up and down the sharp edge. he cut himself slightly--it was impossible to avoid that--but the cords were severed, and, with a groan of relief, he drew his swollen hands around in front of him. almost fagged, he fell over upon the floor, feebly rubbing his arms to restore circulation. while he was thus engaged, the beat of hoofs, coming swiftly and the sound rapidly growing in volume, reached him. siwash charley! was the thought that darted through his brain. it did not seem possible that the man had been gone an hour. it was too late, now, to leave the dugout, and matt got up and staggered to the door. for a moment he stood there, looking. he was seen, and a furious yell came echoing across the prairie. there was no doubt of the approaching horseman being siwash charley. the crack of a revolver was heard, and a bullet thumped spitefully into the woodwork of the door frame. matt drew back, closed the door, and shoved the bolt. right then and there he and siwash charley would have out their little differences. but siwash was not the only one of the two who was armed. matt remembered the rifle which belonged to murgatroyd, and to which siwash had called pecos jones' attention. pecos, in his haste, had left without it, and matt now hurried to the corner and picked it up; then, returning to the door, he crouched there and waited. chapter xiii. besieged. the king of the motor boys hated the very touch of a firearm. he had seen so much wanton use of such weapons when in the southwest, that he had become imbued with horror and disgust for anything that carried powder and ball. but here he was forced to fall back on whatever he could find in order to withstand the attack of a frenzied and desperate man. counting out the rage siwash must feel over the trick that had taken him away from the dugout, if he once broke into the room, found his money gone, and the satchel in matt's possession, there was no telling what demons would be turned loose in him. having discovered the satchel, matt was determined to turn it over to cameron. it was this resolve that had held matt to the spot, and now forced him to brave the wrath of siwash charley. bang! bang! bang! leaden hail rattled on the door, but the door was of stout plank and the metal could not penetrate it. the barrier siwash charley had constructed for his own preservation, in time of possible stress, now proved a good shield for motor matt. having announced himself, in this violent fashion, siwash dismounted and tried the latch. the door, of course, refused to yield, and siwash hurled himself against it. the stout planks trembled, and the earthen wall quivered. "steady, there, siwash charley!" cried matt. "i've got murgatroyd's rifle, and i don't intend to let you come in here." this announcement seemingly carried an effect. the attack on the door ceased and siwash began a parley. "did that coyote of a pecos jones set ye loose?" he demanded. "no." "how'n thunder did ye make it, then?" "pecos jones robbed me--cut the ropes that tied me to the cot so he could get at my pockets. you had left my feet unbound, and i managed to juggle a bit with a knife that lay on the floor." "waal, it won't do ye no good. ye're in thar, an' i'm out hyer, ye've got a rifle an' i've got a brace o' colts, an' on top o' that ye've got the use o' yer hands, but that don't mean that ye're goin' ter git away. i ain't wantin' ter harm ye--ye heerd what murg said when he left--so ye might as well open the door an' let me in." "i'll not do that," answered matt firmly. "why won't ye?" "because, now that i'm free, i'm going to stay that way." "ye ain't free! all the freedom you got is ter run eround that two-by-twice hole in the ground an' dodge bullets. whar's that coyote? i got a bone ter pick with him." "he's not here." "i know that, kase i seen that his hoss wa'n't down by the spring whar he picketed him. whar'd he go?" "i don't know." "what did he play that bloomin' trick on me fer? murg wasn't at jessup's--he an' the gal had been gone from thar fer two hours." here was matt's chance to laugh, but he was not in a mood to take advantage of it. "do you remember counting your gold this morning, siwash?" asked matt. a startled exclamation broke from the ruffian. "did ye see that?" he returned. "i thought ye was asleep." "i wasn't the only one who saw it. pecos jones was looking through the window. pecos not only saw you counting the money, but he also saw where you put it." a bellow of fury broke from siwash. "why didn't ye tell me he was at the winder?" he fumed. "why should i?" returned matt. "you fellows had led me to believe that pecos jones' name was hackberry, and that he was a friend of mine. i had an idea that he was coming here to rescue me, and that's the reason i kept quiet." matt could hear siwash tramping about and easing his wrath as this shot went home. "what did that coyote do?" roared siwash. "tell me that." "he took your money and ran away with it." "did--did he take anything else?" "well, some of my money that i had in a vest pocket." "anything else?" "no." "ye know whar that cache is?" "of course. how could i help knowing when pecos jones rifled it under my eyes?" "i'm suspicionin' you," yelled siwash, "with yer whistlin' o' reveilles an' stable calls! ye kain't fool me, not fer a minit." matt had been afraid of this discovery, but there had been no way of preventing it. he had told siwash about pecos in the hope of having the ruffian trail away in pursuit of the thief. "why don't you take after pecos, siwash?" asked matt. "kase it's wuth more ter me ter plant myself right hyer an' look arter you. open this door, 'r i open up on ye, rifle or no rifle." "i'll not open the door," answered matt firmly, "and if you try to break it down i'll send some bullets through it. the planks can turn a revolver bullet, but a slug from a rifle will go clean through the wood. get away from here, siwash. your cue is to take after pecos jones." the words ended amid a crash of broken glass. siwash charley was shooting through the window. four shots had already been fired. matt counted three more. these made seven, and five more shots would empty the ruffian's revolvers. if he had no more cartridges, he would be helpless. but this was something on which matt could not count with certainty. "keep away from that window, siwash!" cried matt, pressing close to the door. "show yourself there and i'll fire!" bang! bang! bang! "seven and three are ten," computed matt. "he'll soon have those weapons emptied. i don't believe he'll show himself at the window, but perhaps i can coax him to shoot again." dropping down on hands and knees, matt crept to a point directly under the window. having reached this spot, he placed his cap on the muzzle of the rifle and lifted it. bang! "eleven," thought matt. then he gave a loud cry and allowed the cap to waver back and forth. bang! "twelve!" exulted matt. "now, if he hasn't any more cartridges, i'll be safe." matt had allowed the cap to drop at the last shot. outside he could hear a tramp of running feet. "i told the cub," came the voice of siwash. "he ought to've knowed better than ter----" siwash charley's head was thrust in at the opening, rimmed with its jagged points of glass. the scoundrel's words died on his lips, for his eyes were blinking into the muzzle of the rifle. "clear out, siwash!" said matt calmly. "i don't like guns, and i don't like shooting, but i dislike your society more than either one. go away from here, and go quick." what siwash said matt could not hear, but he vanished from the window as if by magic. there was no more firing. in order to test his theory regarding siwash charley's ammunition, matt showed himself boldly at the broken window. the ruffian was not more than twenty feet away. quick as a flash he raised one of his weapons and pulled the trigger. there was only a metallic click, which made it manifest that siwash had not kept such close track of the ammunition as motor matt had done. "go away, i tell you," ordered the king of the motor boys. "i've had enough trouble with you, and i intend to get to sykestown in time to prevent murgatroyd from carrying out his plans. if----" matt paused, aghast. across the prairie he could see a swiftly moving blot--a motor car, he was sure, and undoubtedly murgatroyd's. siwash charley was likewise looking at the approaching car. "oh," he yelled, "i reckon ye ain't got everythin' your way, arter all. hyer comes murg, an' ye kin bet murg ain't out o' ammunition even if i am!" matt's heart went down into his shoes. wasn't luck ever to turn for him? was there to be no end to this reverse which had come his way? as he continued to gaze at the approaching car, it grew plainer to his eyes. there was more than one man aboard, he could see that, and the car didn't look like murgatroyd's, but of a different color. this car was brown! as matt's hopes arose, siwash charley's began to sink. a moment later, siwash rushed for his horse. "cameron!" cried matt, hardly able to believe his eyes; "cameron and mcglory!" turning from the window he ran to the door, flung it open and leaped outside. yells came from the car, and some one stood up in front and waved his hat wildly. matt, pointing to the fleeing siwash, shouted at the top of his voice: "capture that man, cameron! he's phillips, the deserter! he is armed, but his revolvers are empty! capture him!" if matt's words were not heard or understood, at least his gestures were. the car turned and darted after siwash charley. the king of the motor boys, leaning against the front wall of the dugout, watched the race. chapter xiv. the broker's game. the remarks of the landlord, in front of the hotel, had given mcglory and cameron a clue of which they were not slow to take advantage. here was motor matt's enemy, the very man who had set in motion the plot which, through hackberry, had lured the king of the motor boys into wells county on a useless quest. coolly enough murgatroyd brought his car to a stop in front of the hotel and faced the angry lieutenant and cowboy. "your name murgatroyd?" demanded cameron. "my name, yes, sir," answered the broker, half turning in his seat so as to command a better view of the lieutenant. "but," he added quietly, "i believe that you have the advantage of me." "cameron's my name." "ah!" a flash crossed murgatroyd's face. "i might have known who you were, just by seeing you with mcglory there. this is a fortunate meeting." "fortunate!" cried mcglory, dancing around the front of the car. "speak to me about that! i should say it was fortunate, you old tinhorn--for us, if not for you. what's this game you've put up on motor matt?" "if we do any talking," said the broker mildly, "you'll have to express yourself in terms that i can understand." "you'll savvy a heap before we're done with you." "just a minute," went on murgatroyd. "my niece is in the car with me, and i think it well that she should not listen to your violent talk." he looked around. "amy----" the girl was white, but she made no attempt to get out of the tonneau. "i'm not going to leave, uncle amos," said she. "i want to hear more of this talk." "you will please obey me, amy, and leave the car." "it is your car," she answered, "and i haven't any right to stay in it if you don't want me to." cameron opened the door for her and held out his hand to help her down. she paid no attention to the extended hand, but passed into the hotel. "before we begin," proceeded murgatroyd, "let me ask you if you recognize this watch." he offered the timepiece as he finished. "it's matt's!" exclaimed mcglory, snatching the watch. "him motol matt's clock, allee light," breathed ping. the hotel proprietor was the only person, besides cameron, mcglory, and ping, within reach of the broker's words. "this conversation is of a private nature, brackett," said murgatroyd significantly, "even though it is taking place in the street in front of your hotel." brackett excused himself and passed around the corner of the building. "that watch," proceeded the broker, "will prove to you that your friend is in my hands. he is being kept safely in a place which you will not be able to find. i have written three letters, one to you, lieutenant cameron, one to mcglory, and one to mrs. traquair. it will not be necessary to post two of them, for i can tell you, face to face, what the letters contain. "the one to you, cameron, has to do with some little unpleasantness connected with the aëroplane trials recently held at fort totten. siwash charley and, through him, myself were wrongly suspected of complicity in an accident connected with the flying machine. this has been very annoying to me. your letter contained the information that, other matters being satisfactorily adjusted, your friend motor matt would be released under written promise from the authorities at fort totten to give over persecuting me and siwash charley for a crime of which we are entirely innocent." mcglory, to put it figuratively, immediately "went up in the air." before he could air his views, however, cameron silenced him with a look. "motor matt, according to your proposition, as i understand it," returned the lieutenant calmly, "is to be released providing the military authorities promise you and siwash charley immunity?" "that is one of the conditions governing the release," answered murgatroyd. "what are the other conditions?" "well, the letter to mcglory contained that. mrs. traquair, as satisfaction for the mortgage which i hold against the traquair homestead, west of here, is to turn over the quarter section to me. that is all. my letter to mrs. traquair contains that proposition, and my letter to mcglory requests him to write mrs. traquair that what i say, regarding the capture of motor matt, is true. mcglory is also to advise her to accept my terms. if those terms are accepted, and if the authorities at fort totten agree not to persecute me, or siwash charley, any further, motor matt will be released." the cowboy was so full of language that he could hardly restrain himself. cameron laid a hand on his arm and pushed him away. "murgatroyd," said the lieutenant, "you have just made the most impudent and brazen proposition i ever heard. you deliberately plan and commit a crime, and then plan and commit another to save you from legal responsibility for both." "you look at it in a prejudiced way," returned the broker, apparently not in the least ruffled. "what is your answer?" the lieutenant was thoughtful for a space. "i have no power to promise you immunity," said he. "you will take it up with your superior officer at fort totten?" "i won't say that, but i will say that i will think it over." "that is all i can ask. how about you, mcglory?" "sufferin' wildcats!" gurgled mcglory. "have i got to answer that? have i----" "he'll think it over, murgatroyd," broke in cameron, "just as i intend doing. where is motor matt?" "that is my secret," and the wily broker actually smiled. "is he far from here?" "another secret. while you are thinking the matter over, i will hunt for a place to stow my car." he got out to use the crank, and cameron caught mcglory's arm and led him into the hotel. "why didn't i hit him?" the cowboy was murmuring dazedly. "why didn't you let me hit him, cameron, or else hit him yourself?" "because, mcglory, we've got to talk this over and---- ah!" the lieutenant broke off as a slender form swept toward him across the office. "this is the young lady, i believe, who was in the car with mr. murgatroyd?" the girl was still pale, but there was resolution in her face and manner. "i have not much time to talk," said she, "for what i say must be said before my uncle comes in. mr. murgatroyd is my uncle. i am a school teacher and live in fargo with my mother. for some time i have been in poor health, and mr. murgatroyd suggested that i take an automobile trip with him through this part of the country, where he was coming to look up some of his investments. for a few days our headquarters have been here. yesterday afternoon we were riding to the north and west of sykestown when an aëroplane came sailing toward us, dropped down close to the automobile, and a young man whom i afterward learned was motor matt hailed my uncle and asked him some question. when my uncle answered, motor matt seemed to recognize him, and tried to turn the air ship away. my uncle had a rifle near him, and he fired at the aëroplane, injuring the machinery so that it fell and---- "no," the girl broke off, seeing the look of alarm that crossed the faces of her auditors. "motor matt was not seriously injured, but the aëroplane was damaged. this happened about ten miles out, on the road to jessup's. my uncle turned around and took me to jessup's, where he left me. i am very sure that he then went some place, secured siwash charley to help him, and made a prisoner of motor matt. i do not know where your friend was taken, but it could not have been a great way from jessup's home--west of the road, i think, and along the base of the hills, for that is the way my uncle came when he returned to the farmhouse. we stayed at jessup's all night and came here this morning. on the way, we passed the aëroplane, and my uncle got out, looked the machine over, and came back with that watch. "that is all i can tell you. do not try to keep me any longer, or to ask me any questions. i shall go back to fargo by train, for i do not like the way my uncle is doing. i--i hope that you will find your friend and that--that no harm has happened to him." the girl had spoken rapidly, and with nervous impatience, continually watching the door. when she finished, she turned away and passed hastily up the stairs leading to the second floor. the amazing news she had given held mcglory, cameron, and ping spellbound. while they stood, gazing at each other, murgatroyd entered the office. "as soon as you have come to a decision," said he, "let me know." then he, too, passed up the stairs. cameron was the first of the three to recover his wits. "quick!" said he, catching mcglory's arm, "there's no time to be lost. run over to the railroad station and send a telegram to mrs. traquair, mcglory. tell her to pay no attention to any letter she may receive from murgatroyd. while you're doing that, i'll get out the car and we'll make a run out on the road to jessup's." mcglory, inspired with the necessity for rapid work, hustled for the telegraph office. cameron hurried to the shed after the car. while he was getting the machine ready, ping mysteriously disappeared. as the lieutenant pulled out of the shed, he looked for the cowboy and the chinaman. neither was in sight. two minutes later mcglory appeared, and crossed from the railroad station to the car on a run. "where's ping?" demanded cameron. "that's too many for me," said mcglory. "i thought he was with you." "and i had the idea that he had gone with you. well, we can't wait for him," and cameron drove the car around to the front of the hotel. a man was crossing the street. cameron hailed him. "which is the road to jessup's?" he asked. the man pointed it out. barely had he given the directions when murgatroyd ran out of the hotel and vanished around the corner of the building. "he's after his car!" murmured mcglory. some one jumped to the footboard and scrambled into the tonneau just as cameron threw in the switch. it was ping. he was breathing hard, and his yellow face was as near white as it could possibly be. "what's the matter with you, ping?" asked mcglory. the chinaman held up one hand. as the flowing sleeve fell away his yellow fingers could be seen gripping a switch plug. "murg forgettee plug," chattered ping. "my findee car, takee plug----" cameron let off a shout as he coaxed the automobile into a faster pace. "that knocks out murgatroyd, so far as chasing us is concerned," said he. "shake hands with the chink for me, mcglory. i'm too all-fired busy." chapter xv. cant phillips, deserter. the car slammed its way across the bridge over the pipestem and hustled at a fifty-mile-an-hour clip in the direction of jessup's. "there's a schoolma'm that's worth her weight gold bullion," remarked mcglory. "her uncle must have found out that she told us something, or he wouldn't have scattered after his car like he did." "much good it will do him now," chuckled cameron, "since ping has robbed the machine of the important plug. for once the broker was careless." "and to think of him putting a bullet into the aëroplane and bringing it down!" said mcglory through his teeth. "i reckon that spoils the sale to the government." "it may," returned cameron, "but all i can say is i'm sorry if it does." "how we're to find matt is a conundrum," went on the cowboy. "turn west from the road to jessup's and follow the hills. that may be all right, and it may not. sufferin' horned toads, but all this is gettin' on my nerves." "siwash charley is taking care of matt----" "taking care of him! i can imagine how the tinhorn is doing that. i hope pard matt is able to stand it." ten miles were covered in short order, and those in the flying car had a glimpse of the aëroplane beside the road. "it doesn't seem to be hurt much," remarked cameron. "it must be damaged considerable, for all that," said the cowboy. "if it hadn't been, matt would have got away before murgatroyd could take the girl to jessup's, pick up siwash, and then come back and lay him by the heels." cameron brought the car to a halt, jamming down on both brakes. "ping," said he, "go back and watch the aëroplane. here's a revolver. don't let any one tamper with the machine. we'll be along after a while." ping was accustomed to obey orders. without a word he took the weapon cameron handed to him and got out of the car. the lieutenant threw in the switch and away they went again. "there's the hills," announced mcglory, after a period of speeding, pointing to the misty blue line of uplifts. "i believe i'll break from the trail and head straight for them," said cameron. "might as well," assented mcglory. "it's all a guess, anyhow, and that move is as likely to be right as any other we can make." there were broad marks of automobile tires in the dust. cameron had been watching them. although he said nothing about it to the cowboy, yet he turned from the road at a point where another car had made the turn. straight for the hills the lieutenant headed, and as they came closer, mcglory suddenly dropped a hand on cameron's arm. "do you hear it?" asked the cowboy excitedly. "hear what?" "firing. there it goes again." cameron heard it, but it was very faint. "that sounds as though we were going to get next to something," said mcglory. "and looks like it, too. isn't that a horse i see against the background of a hill, over there?" the cowboy looked straight ahead. "you're right!" he cried. "there's a horse there, and a man farther along. the man's shooting at the face of the uplift. there! hear that, cameron? what's he wasting ammunition like that for?" cameron did not answer; he was busy looking and listening and running the car. "thunder!" exclaimed mcglory, as the scene opened clearer and clearer before his eyes, "there's a hole in the hillside--two holes, or i'm a piute, for another just opened up." "and the man's mounting the horse," said cameron. "and some one is coming through that hole in the hill. sufferin' surprises! why, it's matt! look, cameron! he's pointing toward the man, and saying something. i can't hear what he says, but it's a cinch he wants us to follow the man." "and it's a cinch we'll do it, too!" cried cameron. "pull that other revolver out of my hip pocket, mcglory. don't use it, though, till i tell you to. the bare sight of it may be enough to bring the man to a halt." cameron had turned the car and was plunging across the prairie in hot pursuit of the fleeing horseman. the car was going five feet to the horse's one, and the pursuit was drawing to a rapid close. "it's siwash charley!" announced mcglory. "i'd about made up my mind to that," said cameron. "he was shooting at matt. it looks as though we had arrived just in time, mcglory." as the car leaped and swayed across the prairie, the cowboy stood up, hanging to cameron with one hand and waving the revolver with the other. "halt!" he shouted. siwash charley turned in his saddle and shook his fist defiantly. "he's going to fight," said cameron. "look out for a shot when we come close. but don't fire yet, mcglory." "what's the use of waiting?" demurred the cowboy. "it's a wonder siwash hasn't opened up on us before now." "we'll run him down in a minute. his horse---- ah, ha! see that." siwash had been giving rather too much attention to the pursuing car and too little to his horse. the animal dropped a foot in a gopher hole and turned a somersault on the dried grass. siwash shot out of the saddle as though he had been fired from a cannon, caromed across the prairie, and then lay still. cameron nearly ran over the scoundrel before he could shut off and clamp on the brakes. the horse, escaping a broken leg by almost a miracle, scrambled to its feet, gave a frightened snort, and dashed on at full speed, stirrups flying. "never mind the horse," said cameron. "let jessup have the brute. siwash is the one we're after." "he's coming easy," returned mcglory, dropping the revolver on the seat and following the lieutenant out of the car. siwash was lying silent and motionless on the ground. cameron knelt beside him and laid a hand on his breast. "is he done for?" asked mcglory. cameron shook his head. "stunned, that's all. if we had a rope----" "the only thing we've got in the way of a line is the piece of string ping tied around our lunch bag," broke in mcglory, picking the weapons out of siwash charley's pockets. "these are no good," he added, after a brief examination. "every cartridge has been used. let's load siwash into the tonneau, cameron, and i'll agree to keep him quiet until we can get to where matt is waiting for us." between them cameron and mcglory lifted the huge bulk of the unconscious ruffian and deposited him, none too gently, in the rear of the car. the cowboy climbed in beside him, and the lieutenant cranked up, took his seat, and started back along the foot of the hills. matt greeted them cheerily as they drew up at the door of the dugout. "how are you, pard?" whooped mcglory. "bruised a little and mighty hungry, but otherwise all right. how's siwash?" "in need of a rope, matt," said cameron. "have you got one handy?" matt ran into the dugout and picked up part of the rope that had been used to secure him to the chair and the cot. with this cameron and mcglory made siwash charley secure before his wits returned, thus avoiding a possible struggle. as soon as this part of the work was finished, the cowboy sprang from the car and gripped motor matt by the hand. "you've had a rough time, pard," said he, "and something of a reverse, if what we've learned is true, but you're stacking up pretty well for all that. what sort of a place is this, anyhow?" "it's phillips' old rendezvous," said matt. "phillips?" echoed cameron. "do you mean siwash charley, matt?" "no one else." "have you any proof of it?" "wait a minute." matt ran into the dugout and presently reappeared with the suit case. "chance threw that in my way," said he, "and, by trying to save it for you, cameron, i very nearly got myself into more trouble than i could manage. look at these initials." matt pointed to the letters "g. f." on the end of the stained and mouldy grip. "this must be the very satchel, don't you think," he added, "that the drummer received by mistake, over in devil's lake city?" cameron was so amazed he could not speak. taking the suit case from matt, he opened it up on the ground. it was not locked and opened readily. there were stained and mouldy documents inside--blue-prints, tracings, and pages of memoranda. cameron rose erect and stared down at the satchel's disordered contents. "there's no doubt about it," he muttered. "this is the identical suit case that captain fortescue carried across the lake with him that day it was supposed he started for st. paul, and----" a call came from the wagon. "what you fellers roughin' things up with me fer? murgatroyd has got somethin' ter say ter you. when you hear that you'll be lettin' me go." "he's still hazy," said matt. "he doesn't remember what's happened." they all stepped to the side of the car and looked down at siwash charley where he lay helpless on the tonneau seat. "murgatroyd," said cameron sternly, "has already told us what he had to say." "ye kain't do nothin' ter me fer takin' keer o' motor matt," rambled siwash charley. "i treated him white, an' he'll tell ye the same thing." "that's not what we've captured you for," went on cameron. "you're a deserter, and your name isn't siwash charley, but cant phillips. you're for totten, my man, and a court-martial that will probably land you where you won't be able to break the law for a long time to come." then, for the first time since his senses had returned, siwash charley appeared to understand all that his capture meant. chapter xvi. the losing cause. murgatroyd must have had an extra switch plug with him, for brackett, proprietor of the hotel, was authority for the assertion that he left town shortly after cameron, mcglory, and ping had taken their departure. murgatroyd, however, went east, while the other car took a western trail. what became of murgatroyd was for some time a mystery. he was not met along the road between sykestown and carrington, and he was not seen in the latter town. his niece likewise vanished, taking the train--this, also, on the authority of brackett--and presumably returning to fargo. for her, motor matt and his friends always thereafter treasured a warm regard. she had turned resolutely against a relative in order to make sure that right and justice were meted out to a stranger. cant phillips, alias siwash charley, was removed to fort totten. after a trial, during which it could not be proved that he had lost the dagger which ping had found in the woods, or that he had met captain fortescue by agreement or otherwise and dealt foully with him, or that he had stolen the suit case and the plans, he was sent to the government prison at leavenworth to serve a long term. phillips' story was to the effect that he had deserted to go into the "business" of stealing horses with pecos jones, and that the suit case and the plans were in jones' possession when he--phillips--joined him. but phillips could not deny his identity, nor the evident fact that he was a deserter. for this he received a sentence that was the limit for desertion, lengthened somewhat by the belief of those presiding at his trial that he had at least a guilty knowledge of the other crimes imputed to him. mrs. traquair was very much wrought up when she discovered how murgatroyd, using her name, had beguiled the king of the motor boys into a trap destined to free the broker and siwash charley of "persecution" by the military authorities, and, at the same time, to secure for the broker himself the traquair homestead. it was an audacious plan, and a foolish one, but the several steps by which it was worked were covered in rather a masterly way. mrs. traquair had departed suddenly for a visit with friends in fargo. learning of this, and from this one insignificant fact alone, murgatroyd had built up the whole fabric of his plot. it was a losing cause, and matt had been caught in it, for, if the audacious scheme was to be successful, the king of the motor boys would be the one factor that made it so. everything hinged on him. the aëroplane was guarded by ping until matt, cameron, and mcglory reached sykestown over the trail to jessup's and sent a team and wagon back to bring the damaged machine into town. the same wagon that hauled it into sykestown likewise hauled it across country and back to fort totten. matt, mcglory, and cameron, before leaving the dugout to return to sykestown with their prisoner, lingered to talk over recent events, hear each other's account of what had happened, and to make a further examination of the earthen room. nothing of any importance was found, save a slender supply of food in the box cupboard, which was promptly confiscated. when the friends left, they closed the door, allowed the painted screens to fall into place over the door and the broken window, and then marked with astonishment how, at a little distance, even they were at a loss to mark the particular place of that lawless retreat. "it's a regular robbers' roost," declared mcglory, looking back as the car carried them toward the road. "it ought to be destroyed," said cameron. "a knowledge of its presence is an invitation for some other lawless men to make use of it." "pecos jones, for example," added mcglory. "how much money did that fellow get from you, matt?" "twelve dollars," answered matt. "if he hadn't been in such a hurry, he might have found my money belt and secured three hundred more." "you got off easy," said cameron. "not so easy, after all, lieutenant. i wouldn't go through that set-to with siwash charley again for all the gold that was ever minted. i don't like guns, anyway." "somethin' queer about that, too," observed mcglory. "explosive engines are matt's hobby, but set off an explosion in a steel tube, with a piece o' lead in front o' it, an' he shies clear off the road." the next day, after the aëroplane had been brought in and sent on to fort totten, and the boys had learned various things from brackett concerning murgatroyd and his niece, the little party moved on toward devil's lake in the car, taking cant phillips with them. when the post was reached there was a disagreeable surprise awaiting matt. it came in the shape of a telegram from headquarters, announcing that the trials at fort myer had been indefinitely postponed, and that, therefore, another of the traquair aëroplanes would not be needed. "bang goes fifteen thousand!" mourned mcglory. "the department may change its mind," suggested cameron, "when it hears about that straight-away flight of the aëroplane into wells county." "while the war department is changing its mind," said matt, smothering his disappointment with a laugh, "mcglory and i will get busy putting the aëroplane into shape and then look for fresh fields and pastures new." "that hits me, pard," said mcglory. "i've been pining for a change of scene, but i hate to leave this vicinity while murgatroyd is at large." "forget murgatroyd, joe," counseled matt. "if he'll forget us, yes, but i don't think he will." the end. the next number ( ) will contain motor matt's "make and break" or, advancing the spark of friendship. the skeleton in the closet--what next?--bringing the skeleton out--marking out a course--the start--a shot across the bows--the man hunters--fooling the cowboys--the trailing rope--a bolt from the blue--"advancing the spark"--the trail to the river--unwelcome callers--an unexpected turn--a risky venture--conclusion. motor stories thrilling adventure motor fiction new york, august , . terms to motor stories mail subscribers. (_postage free._) single copies or back numbers, c. each. months c. months c. months $ . one year . copies one year . copy two years . =how to send money=--by post-office or express money-order, registered letter, bank check or draft, at our risk. at your own risk if sent by currency, coin, or postage-stamps in ordinary letter. =receipts=--receipt of your remittance is acknowledged by proper change of number on your label. if not correct you have not been properly credited, and should let us know at once. ormond g. smith, } george c. smith, } _proprietors_. street & smith, publishers, - seventh avenue, new york city. the doctor's ruse. one morning in september, -, there came to the office of doctor frederic curtin, a young english physician in hongkong, a native junkman from the chinese city of swatow, about two hundred miles northeast of the english city. the junkman brought a letter to the doctor from an old acquaintance, the rev. james burren, a missionary in the vicinity of swatow; and the letter begged curtin to come and attend the missionary's young son, who was suffering from a puzzling and lingering illness. as none of his patients in hongkong demanded his immediate attention, curtin was free to respond to the call. the _silver moon_, the trading junk that had brought the letter of appeal, was to leave on the return voyage the next day at noon; and as this junk offered the only means of reaching swatow for several days, curtin engaged passage on the slow-sailing, clumsy vessel. there had been much activity that summer among the native pirates that infest the coast waters of the china sea; and although the doctor did not expect to encounter any of these gentry, he took the precaution of placing in his valise two heavy navy revolvers and a quantity of cartridges. the _silver moon_ sailed on the morrow at midday, as scheduled, and, driven by a wide spread of canvas, slipped through the deep-blue, lapping water of this eastern sea at a much better speed than the doctor expected. that evening a nearly full moon floated in the clear sky, and gave a glory to the ocean that curtin had never seen surpassed. he sat on deck until late, and when he did go down to his cramped berth in the cabin below, he dropped into a sleep so profound that his first intimation of danger was when he was awakened by fierce, wild cries and the scurrying and trampling of many feet on the deck overhead. he sprang to get his revolvers. but while he fumbled with the catches of the case, there was a rush of footsteps down the passageway outside; and the next moment the frail door burst in with a crash before the attack of half a dozen nearly naked chinamen, who had revolvers and short curved swords. the _silver moon_ had fallen a prey to pirates, and curtin calmly submitted himself to the invaders. he was allowed to dress. in the meantime the pirates rummaged through his baggage, including the rather portly black leather case in which he carried his medicines and surgical instruments. when he was hustled on deck a few moments later he found lying alongside the _silver moon_ a huge junk, and swarming over the captured vessel a motley horde of evil-looking barbarians. the crew of the _silver moon_, awed and cringing, was huddled forward under guard. but curtin was not placed with the other captives. at a word from the thin, wiry man who appeared to be the leader, two of the pirates marched the doctor straight aboard the strange junk, where they proceeded to bind his arms and legs with ropes, and left him near the foremast, to sprawl or sit on the hard deck, as he chose. then as soon as everything of value on the _silver moon_ had been transferred to the robber junk, the crew returned to their own vessel, and cast off, leaving their countrymen to go their way in peace. the pirate junk now headed to the northeast, following the coast. curtin, sprawling on the bare deck in his bonds, could only conjecture what was to be his fate. he knew that the native pirates often made a practice of holding prisoners for ransom, and he fancied that his captors intended to do so in his case, otherwise they would not have singled him out from all those on the captured junk. it did not reassure him to reflect that his bank account in hongkong was an extremely modest one, and that he had few friends in the city who could place any large sum at his disposal. about the middle of the forenoon his attention was attracted to one of the pirate crew--a big man who was restlessly pacing up and down the sun-scorched deck not far away, apparently in intense agony. on observing the fellow closely, the doctor saw that there was an angry, unhealed wound in the muscles of his bare left forearm, and noted that the arm itself was swollen to nearly twice its normal size. at once curtin's professional instinct was stirred. on the impulse of the moment he stood up awkwardly on his pinioned legs, and said in chinese: "that is a bad wound you have in your arm. i am an english doctor of hongkong. perhaps if you will let me see your arm i can relieve the pain." the big chinaman stopped his uneasy striding to stand and look doubtfully at the speaker. the pirate leader happened to be near, heard what curtin said, and, the wounded sailor continuing to hesitate, signed him to allow the doctor to examine his arm. the sufferer obeyed stolidly, and one glance at the inflamed wound, which evidently had been made by a sword thrust, was enough to tell curtin that he had to deal with a case of threatened blood poisoning. but he thought that if the arm was immediately lanced the chinaman would have a good chance for speedy recovery. this he told the pirate captain, who had come over to stand beside his fellow cutthroat. he said that if the black case that had been seized among his other baggage that morning was brought and his arms were released, he would at once treat the wound, although he would not guarantee to cure the man. to the doctor's surprise, the captain answered that he had lived in hongkong, and knew of the skill of the english doctors, and that he would be much gratified if curtin could save the sailor, as the fellow was one of his best men. the medicine case was quickly produced, and the doctor's hands were untied. first ascertaining that the contents of the case were undisturbed, he prepared the wounded arm by pouring a little alcohol upon it. then he took out his instruments and quickly performed the operation. the look of relief that came into the sufferer's face was apparent, but neither the captain nor the other members of the pirate crew, who had gathered round to watch, made any comment. curtin carefully dressed and bandaged the wound, and as soon as he had finished, his hands were rebound. his patient moved away without a word of thanks or appreciation, yet the doctor did not neglect to say that as often as was necessary he would attend the arm again. he was anxious to make a friend of this chinaman; for a friend, he felt, would not be a bad thing to have among that barbarous crew. shortly after sunset that evening the junk reached the mouth of a narrow river, and a quarter of a mile from the entrance to this stream the sails were lowered and anchor was dropped. curtin gathered from the talk of some of the crew who stood near him that the junk was to be taken up this river to an outlaw retreat, but that they would not enter the narrow channel until the high tide of the next morning. not long after the evening meal was over the pirates began to turn in for the night. most of them merely threw themselves down on the hard deck. by nine o'clock all were asleep, with the exception of a single watchman, whom curtin could see strolling back and forth across the afterdeck. hours passed, and as the doctor lay outstretched on the bare deck, he tried to work his hands out of the hempen cord that bound them together behind his back. he thought that if he could free himself from his bonds, the watchman might nap, and thus give him opportunity to slip over the side of the vessel into the sea and swim ashore. but he was unable to release his hands. not long after this, the watchman came forward and silently passed close to curtin, and he was rather surprised to see that the lone guard was no other than the man whose arm he had lanced that morning. he wondered idly if the fellow had been chosen for the post of watchman for the reason that suffering had rendered him sleepless. then suddenly, as he looked up at the big yellow man, a new idea for escape germinated, grew to a hazy outline, and in a moment took definite shape in curtin's mind. in his medicine case was a vial containing a quantity of a certain very powerful anæsthetic. he had told the pirate that he would dress the wound again when necessary. if on this excuse he could get his hands freed and the case in his possession, why would it not be easy to administer a few drops of the drug by a hypodermic injection, and almost immediately send the watchman into a coma that would last for hours--render him unconscious before he could rebind his captive's hands or think to make outcry? curtin fully realized the danger attendant upon so audacious a scheme. but he felt that as long as he was in the hands of these ruthless and merciless men his life was not safe from one hour to the next. immediately he hailed the watchman and asked him about his arm. the tall pirate paused and replied that it still pained him considerably. curtin suggested that he should bring the medicine case and have his arm treated there in the bright moonlight. the watchman was slow in answering. curtin began to think that the natural craftiness of his race had counseled him against the proposition, when with a gesture of consent he went to the companionway and disappeared. in a few moments he came back, carrying the familiar case in his hand. then the doctor's heart gave a joyous leap. as soon as his hands were loosened, he quickly opened the case and took out the vial he needed and the hypodermic syringe. he poured into the syringe a few drops of the colorless fluid from the vial. next, with hands that trembled with eagerness, he unwound the bandage from the wounded arm. curtin picked up the syringe nonchalantly, but it gave him a shock to note at this instant that the huge pirate had his right hand resting on the carved hilt of the short, naked sword slipped through his belt. however, the doctor did not hesitate. he resolutely grasped the proffered arm, and carefully inserted the needle point of the instrument into the flesh so far above the wound that the powerful drug could have but little harmful effect upon the irritated region. then, with even pressure upon the plunger, he completely emptied the vial. he withdrew the syringe, and keeping a strong grip upon his victim's arm, began to replace the bandage. he worked slowly, methodically, occupying as much time as possible in each step of the operation. the chinaman soon began to show signs of a strange, unnatural drowsiness. his head nodded on his broad shoulders, his eyes were half closed, and he opened them with difficulty. all at once the doctor's vigilant eye saw a startled, apprehensive look flit across the countenance of the pirate. the next instant the man gave a half-inarticulate cry and snatched out his sword. curtin threw up his hand to arrest the fall of the blade, but suddenly, in the twinkling of an eye, the chinaman wavered, the uplifted arm dropped nerveless, the sword fell clattering to the deck from the grasp of the relaxed fingers. as the watchman toppled over under the influence of the drug, the doctor caught him in his arms and lowered him to the deck. then curtin snatched up the sword, and, with one slash of the keen blade, severed the ropes that bound his ankles loosely together. he listened just a moment. all was still on the junk. he stooped down and finished adjusting the bandage to the senseless outlaw's wounded arm. but he did not linger long on the pirate craft. throwing a rope over the side of the junk, he slid down into the water and swam away. no mishap occurred to him in the water, and soon he was following the sands of the beach to the northeast. at daybreak he came upon a british gunboat lying a little way off the shore, and in response to his signals, a boat put out and took him aboard. that evening he was landed in swatow. he found the missionary's son very ill with a stubborn fever; but curtin took up the battle just in time, and at the end of a week had the satisfaction of witnessing the boy's recovery. stranded on a chimney. "unravel your stocking, john; begin at the toe," was a sentence which many an old-time schoolboy learned well, for it appeared in the school readers of a generation ago. it was the solution found by a quick-witted wife for the problem of rescuing her husband from the top of a tall chimney. when he had let down an end of a raveling, she tied a piece of string to it, and eventually sent him up a rope. something of the same sort happened not long ago to two chimney builders on staten island, n. y. they were up on the top of a big new concrete chimney, over one hundred and sixty feet tall, and started to complete their job by tearing away the scaffolding on the inside as they worked down. there was a ladder running all the way down. the men stood on some planks about ten feet down from the top. they ripped up the planks one by one, and shot them down inside the shaft. the next to the last one, however, went a little crooked, glanced from the wall, hit the ladder, and in a twinkling tore several sections out and left the men standing on a single plank, six feet long and two feet wide, with no means of going up or down. it was then noon, and for more than four hours they alternately whistled and shouted in a vain attempt to attract attention. it was nearly five o'clock when another workman happened to come into the chimney at the bottom and heard their cries. a crowd quickly gathered, and began to wonder what they could do to help. meanwhile, the prisoners had not been idle: they had torn their flannel shirts to narrow strips and made a rope of them, and this they sent down the chimney slowly. firemen were soon at hand, and attached a light line to the improvised rope, and sent it up. the chief's idea was that if they threw it over the top of the chimney and let it down to the ground, he could anchor it there, and they could safely slide down the inside. they threw it over the top, but there it stuck, fastened in the soft concrete, and soon they could neither pull it toward them nor pay it out; yet they dared not trust their weight on it. for some time the rescue was halted, but at last another rope was secured, and with the line already in hand this was hauled up and thrown over the chimney rim. it went without sticking, and was secured on the outside. the scaffolding that had held in place was only about fifty feet below the men, but they had used so much of their clothing in making ropes that they were both badly burned in sliding that distance. however, they reached ground in safety, and in a few days were back at work none the worse for the adventure. a scrimmage of lions. captive lions, like fire flames, are fine things when under control, but when once they get the upper hand then indeed they are terrible. in her book, "behind the scenes with wild animals," ellen velvin describes a battle between a number of these brutes which took place in a showroom at richmond, virginia. it came off at a rehearsal, so that the public lost the chance to see it. only one man was concerned in the fight. that was captain bonavita, who had managed twenty-seven lions at one time. the cause of the fight was the arrival of newcomers from their native jungles. when the arena was ready for the rehearsal, bonavita had considerable trouble in getting the animals out, and when the first one finally appeared, it was not in the slow, stately manner in which he usually entered, but in a quick, restless way, which showed that he was in an excitable state. he was followed by seventeen others, all in the same nervous condition. instead of getting on the pedestals in their usual way, the lions, with one exception, a big, muscular fellow, began to sniff at the corners of the arena, where the newcomers had been exercising, and every moment added to their rage. their fierce natures were excited by jealousy, so that when one lion presumed to go over to a corner and follow up the sniffing of another, the first one turned upon him and bit him savagely. the other promptly retaliated, and in the twinkling of an eye they were fighting fiercely. the temper of the others flashed up like gunpowder, and almost instantly seventeen lions were engaged in a wild, free fight. the one big fellow who had climbed on his pedestal when he entered still sat there, but at this moment the remaining nine lions appeared in the arena, followed by bonavita. the animals rushed forward into the battle; the big lion with an ugly snarl leaped from his pedestal into the thick of the fray, and in an instant twenty-seven lions were fighting with teeth and claws. in the midst of it all stood one man, calm, self-possessed, but with every nerve and muscle at their highest tension, for he knew better than any one else that his life hung in the balance. bonavita vainly tried to regain mastery over the fighting beasts. the lions were no longer the puppets of a show; they were the monarchs of the wild, turbulent and savage. seeing his power gone, bonavita did his best to save his own life. he succeeded in getting out, thanks to his wonderful nerve--for he had to jump over the backs of the fighting animals, and in doing so he received a deep wound in the shoulder. there was nothing to be done but to let the lions fight it out, which they did. for nearly two hours that awful battle raged; but, when the lions were exhausted, bonavita, wounded as he was, went in and drove them into their cages. many of the lions after this terrible fight were seriously injured, and had to be treated for wounds, cuts, and tears; but they had fought themselves out, and the next week they went through their performances as mildly as kittens. dredging for gold. the many varying conditions under which gold is found is not the least interesting feature of the history of the yellow metal. in rock, sand, and sea it has been discovered, and even in the deposit of hot springs now in activity. large nuggets have been discovered in dry gravels, while prospectors have acquired much wealth by extracting gold from river beds, by the process known as panning--i. e., separating the dirt and mud from the metal by shaking the gold-bearing earth or gravel with water in a pan. while, however, many rivers have been thus exploited, explorers and scientists are agreed that there are still millions of dollars' worth of gold waiting to be unearthed from the bottom of rivers in different parts of the world. in new zealand and south america, for instance, convincing proof has been obtained that rich deposits of the precious metal still lie at the bottom of many of the rivers of those countries. the gold is usually found in the form of grains at some depth below the surface, imbedded in mud and clay. there are only two ways of recovering it--namely, either the river bed must be dredged by floating dredgers, or the river must be diverted into another channel while its bed is being stripped. the former method is the one generally adopted, dredgers having been used with considerable success on the pacific slope. attention has been attracted of late years to the possibilities of recovering gold from the rivers of peru. for ages the gold-laden quartz of the land of the incas--the people who covered the walls of their temples with plates of gold and used the precious metal to fashion cooking utensils--has been broken down by the denuding agencies of frost, rain, and snow, and carried into rivers, where it has remained undiscovered, until recent explorations revealed an astonishing source of wealth. take the river inambari and its tributaries, for instance. an examination of miles of this river revealed the fact that it contained gold to the average value of $ . per cubic yard, which could be extracted at a cost of cents only. the result of this examination led to the formation of the inambari gold dredging concessions, limited. sir martin conway some time ago explored upper peru and the famous gold-producing valleys from which the incas gained most of their great store of wealth. he came to the conclusion that in a certain area no less than $ , , profit was to be made by extracting gold from the rivers, and in order to begin obtaining this gold it was only necessary to have a dredge on the spot. the same hour in which the dredge first begins to turn, gold will be won. the dredges used up to the present have been almost exclusively of the endless-chain bucket or steam-shovel pattern. at one end of the boat is a powerful endless-chain bucket-dredge, which scrapes the gravel from the bottom and elevates it to a revolving screen in the boat. this in turn sifts out the bowlders, which are at once thrown to the bank of the river, while the fine material flows over tables covered with cocoanut matting, which acts like fine riffles, catching the gold in the interstices. the matting is periodically lifted up and thoroughly rinsed off, the rinsings are panned for gold, and the matting returned for another charge. in the case of the inambari gold dredging company, a modern steel dredger has been made, which it is confidently estimated will work far quicker and in a much more effective and inexpensive manner than any other dredger which has yet been used. latest issues brave and bold weekly all kinds of stories that boys like. the biggest and best nickel's worth ever offered. =high art colored covers. thirty-two big pages. price, cents.= --three brave boys; or, adventures in the balloon world. by frank sheridan. --archie atwood, champion; or, an all-around athlete's career. by cornelius shea. --dick stanhope afloat; or, the eventful cruise of the _elsinore_. by harrie irving hancock. --working his way upward; or, from footlights to riches. by fred thorpe. --the fourteenth boy; or, how vin lovell won out. by weldon j. cobb. --among the nomads; or, life in the open. by the author of "through air to fame." --bob, the acrobat; or, hustle and win out. by harrie irving hancock. --through the earth; or, jack nelson's invention. by fred thorpe. --the boy chief; or, comrades of camp and trail. by john de morgan. --smart alec; or, bound to get there. by weldon j. cobb. --climbing up; or, the meanest boy alive. by harrie irving hancock. --comrades three; or, with gordon keith in the south seas. by lawrence white, jr. --a young snake-charmer; or, the fortunes of dick erway. by fred thorpe. motor stories the latest and best five-cent weekly. we won't say how interesting it is. see for yourself. =high art colored covers. thirty-two big pages. price, cents.= --motor matt's daring rescue; or, the strange case of helen brady. --motor matt's peril; or, castaway in the bahamas. --motor matt's queer find; or, the secret of the iron chest. --motor matt's promise; or, the wreck of the _hawk_. --motor matt's submarine; or, the strange cruise of the _grampus_. --motor matt's quest; or, three chums in strange waters. --motor matt's close call; or, the snare of don carlos. --motor matt in brazil; or, under the amazon. --motor matt's defiance; or, around the horn. --motor matt makes good; or, another victory for the motor boys. --motor matt's launch; or, a friend in need. --motor matt's enemies; or, a struggle for the right. --motor matt's prize; or, the pluck that wins. --motor matt on the wing; or, flying for fame and fortune. tip top weekly the most popular publication for boys. the adventures of frank and dick merriwell can be had only in this weekly. =high art colored covers. thirty-two pages. price, cents.= --dick merriwell at the "meet"; or, honors worth winning. --dick merriwell's protest; or, the man who would not play clean. --dick merriwell in the marathon; or, the sensation of the great run. --dick merriwell's colors; or, all for the blue. --dick merriwell, driver; or, the race for the daremore cup. --dick merriwell on the deep; or, the cruise of the _yale_. --dick merriwell in the north woods; or, the timber thieves of the floodwood. --dick merriwell's dandies; or, a surprise for the cowboy nine. --dick merriwell's "skyscooter"; or, professor pagan and the "princess." --dick merriwell in the elk mountains; or, the search for "dead injun" mine. --dick merriwell in utah; or, the road to "promised land." --dick merriwell's bluff; or, the boy who ran away. --dick merriwell in the saddle; or, the bunch from the bar-z. --dick merriwell's ranch friends; or, sport on the range. _for sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to any address on receipt of price, cents per copy, in money or postage stamps, by_ street & smith, publishers, - seventh avenue, new york =if you want any back numbers= of our weeklies and cannot procure them from your newsdealer, they can be obtained from this office direct. fill out the following order blank and send it to us with the price of the weeklies you want and we will send them to you by return mail. =postage stamps taken the same as money.= ________________________ _ _ _street & smith, - seventh avenue, new york city._ _dear sirs: enclosed please find_ ___________________________ _cents for which send me_: tip top weekly, nos. ________________________________ nick carter weekly, " ________________________________ diamond dick weekly, " ________________________________ buffalo bill stories, " ________________________________ brave and bold weekly, " ________________________________ motor stories, " ________________________________ _name_ ________________ _street_ ________________ _city_ ________________ _state_ ________________ a great success!! motor stories every boy who reads one of the splendid adventures of motor matt, which are making their appearance in this weekly, is at once surprised and delighted. surprised at the generous quantity of reading matter that we are giving for five cents; delighted with the fascinating interest of the stories, second only to those published in the tip top weekly. matt has positive mechanical genius, and while his adventures are unusual, they are, however, drawn so true to life that the reader can clearly see how it is possible for the ordinary boy to experience them. _here are the titles now ready and those to be published_: --motor matt; or, the king of the wheel. --motor matt's daring; or, true to his friends. --motor matt's century run; or, the governor's courier. --motor matt's race; or, the last flight of the "comet." --motor matt's mystery; or, foiling a secret plot. --motor matt's red flier; or, on the high gear. --motor matt's clue; or, the phantom auto. --motor matt's triumph; or, three speeds forward. --motor matt's air ship; or, the rival inventors. --motor matt's hard luck; or, the balloon house plot. --motor matt's daring rescue; or, the strange case of helen brady. --motor matt's peril; or, cast away in the bahamas. --motor matt's queer find; or, the secret of the iron chest. --motor matt's promise; or, the wreck of the "hawk." --motor matt's submarine; or, the strange cruise of the "grampus." --motor matt's quest; or, three chums in strange waters. --motor matt's close call; or, the snare of don carlos. --motor matt in brazil; or, under the amazon. --motor matt's defiance; or, around the horn. --motor matt makes good; or, another victory for the motor boys. --motor matt's launch; or, a friend in need. --motor matt's enemies; or, a struggle for the right. --motor matt's prize; or, the pluck that wins. --motor matt on the wing; or, flying for fame and fortune. to be published on august th. --motor matt's reverse; or, caught in a losing game. to be published on august th. --motor matt's "make or break"; or, advancing the spark of friendship. to be published on august d. --motor matt's engagement; or, on the road with a show. to be published on august th. --motor matt's "short circuit"; or, the mahout's vow. price, five cents at all newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, by the publishers upon receipt of the price. street & smith, _publishers_, new york transcriber's notes: added table of contents. italics are represented with _underscores_, bold with =equal signs=. converted oe ligatures to "oe" for this text version; ligatures retained in html edition. retained inconsistent hyphenation from original ("straightaway" vs. "straight-away"). page , changed "science of variation" to "science of aviation." page , added missing apostrophe to "can't catch up." page , changed "aim" to "air" ("high into the air."). page , corrected "pratically" to "practically." page , changed "waster" to "was ter" ("cowboy feller was ter"). page , corrected "earthern" to "earthen" ("pail on the earthen shelf"). page , corrected "himstlf" to "himself" ("how was he to free himself?"). scanned by sean pobuda (jpobuda@adelphia.net) no. of a series. the girl aviators on golden wings by margaret burnham chapter i the great alkali "and so this is the great nevada desert!" peggy prescott wrinkled her nose rather disdainfully as she gazed from the open window of the car out over the white, glittering expanse--dotted here and there with gloomy-looking clumps of sage brush--through which they had been traveling for some little time past. "this is it," nodded her brother roy; "what do you think of it, sis?" "um--er, i shall have to wait a while before i answer that," rejoined peggy judicially. "well, here's jimsy; let's ask him," cried roy, as a lad of his own age, accompanied by a slender, graceful girl, came down the aisle of the car and approached the section in which the two young prescotts were sitting. "jimsy bancroft," demanded roy, "we are now on the great nevada desert, or on the edge of it. does it meet with your approval?" "there's plenty of it anyhow," laughed jimsy, "and really it's very much like what i expected it would be." "i feel like a regular cowgirl or--a--er--well, what the newspapers call a typical westerner already," said jess bancroft, jimsy's sister. "only typical westerners don't protect their delicate complexions from dust with cold cream," laughed peggy, holding up a finger reprovingly. "as if any beauty magazine won't tell you it's a woman's duty to take the greatest care of her complexion," parried jess. "roy and i have been sitting out on the observation platform on the last coach--that is, we sat there till the dust drove us in." she shook the folds of a long, light pongee automobile coat she wore and a little cloud of dust arose. they all coughed as the pungent stuff circulated. "ugh," cried roy, "it makes your eyes smart." "that's the alkali in it," quoth jimsy sagely, "alkali is--" "very unpleasant," coughed peggy. "but as we are likely to have to endure it for the next few weeks," struck in roy, "we might as well lose no time in getting accustomed to it." "well girls and boys," came a deep, pleasant voice behind them, "we shall be in blue creek in a short time now, so gather up your belongings. i'll take care of the aeroplane outfits and the other stuff in the baggage car," he went on, "and here comes miss prescott now." the lady referred to was a sweet-faced woman of some fifty years of age, though it was easy to see that the years had dealt kindly with her during her placid life in the village of sandy beach, on long island, new york, where she had made, her home. miss prescott was the aunt of the two prescott children, and since their father's death some time before had been both mother and father to them--their own mother having passed away when they were but small children. as readers of the first volume of this series know, mr. prescott had been an inventor of some distinction. dying, he had confided to his son and daughter his plans for a non-capsizable aeroplane of great power. his son had promised to carry on the work, and had devoted his legacy to this purpose. in that volume, which was called "the girl aviators and the phantom airship," it will be recalled, it was told how peggy had been of material aid to her brother in his plans and hopes, and had, in reality, "saved the day" for him when he fell into the hands of some enemies. this occurred on the eve of a great aeroplane contest in which roy had entered in the hopes of winning the first prize. with the money thus obtained he planned to pay off a mortgage held on miss prescott's home by an unscrupulous old banker, whose son was the prime mover in the plots against roy. one of the means adopted to force him to sell his secrets was the manipulation of a phantom aeroplane which, for a time, sadly puzzled the lad and his sister. the mystery was solved in a strange way, however, and almost at the same time, the baffling problem of what had become of mrs. bancroft's jewels was also unraveled. all this did not take place without many adventures being encountered by the four chums. among these was the encounter with the old hermit, peter bell, who, through peggy's agency, was restored to his brother, james bell, the millionaire western mining man. james bell became much interested in the prescotts and their aeroplanes. finally he made an advantageous proposal to roy to travel west and operate for him a line of aeroplanes from some desert mines he had discovered on a trip which almost cost him his life. as autos could not cross the alkali, and transportation of the product by wagons would have been prohibitive in cost, as well as almost impossible to achieve, mr. bell had hit on the happy idea of conveying the precious product of his property by aeroplane. at the same time, it so happened that mr. bancroft, the father of jess and jimsy, was summoned west by an important railroad deal. this being the case, jess and jimsy at once set to work plotting how they could gain their father's consent to their accompanying peggy and roy. it was finally gained, although mrs. bancroft shook her head over the matter, and, at first, would by no means hear of such a thing. but mr. bancroft urged that it would be a good thing for the children to see the great west, and that as miss prescott was to accompany the party, there would be no risk of their running wild. but while the youngsters had all been so eager for the time to come for starting on their long journey that they could hardly eat, much less sleep, miss prescott had viewed with alarm the prospects ahead of her. in her mind the west was a vague jumble of rough cowboys, indians, highwaymen and desperate characters in general. but there was no help for it. in addition to feeling it was her duty to accompany her young charges, her physician had also recommended her to seek the dry, rarefied air of the great nevada plateau. "it will be the very thing for your lungs, my dear madame," he had said; "they are by no means as strong as i could wish." "oh, but doctor, the indians, the--the--" miss prescott had begun, when the physician cut her short. "the only indians left in the west now are all busy working for wild west shows," he said, with a laugh; "and as for any other fancied cause of alarm, i dare say you will find the western men quite as chivalrous and courteous as their eastern brethren." and so it happened that the dust-covered train was rolling across the arid solitudes at the edge of the great alkali desert with our party of friends on board. all were looking forward to adventures, but how strange and unexpected some of the happenings that befell them were to be not one of the party even dreamed. the only member of the adventurous little band not now accounted for is peter bell, the former recluse. peter was forward in the smoking car enjoying his old black pipe, which was his delight and solace and miss prescott's particular abomination. among peter's other peculiarities, acquired in a long and solitary life, was a habit he had of sometimes making, his remarks in verse. he entered the car just as the conversation we have recorded was in progress. "soon, my good friends, o'er the desert, so bold, we all shall be flying with excellent gold." a general laugh from the young folks greeted him, and roy struck in with: "that's if we don't fall to the earth from the sky, and land up in a smash on the white alkali." the merriment that greeted this was cut short by the raucous voices of the trainmen. "blue creek! blue creek!" instantly the liveliest bustle prevailed. belongings of all sorts were hastily bundled together. so intent, in fact, was our party on its preparations for its plunge into the unknown that not one of them noticed two men who stood watching them intently from the opposite end of the car. "so we've run the old fox into the ground," remarked one of them, a tall, heavily built fellow with a crop of short, reddish hair that bristled like the remnants of an old tooth brush. he was clean-shaven and had a weak, cruel mouth and a pair of narrow little eyes, through which he could, however, shoot a penetrating glance when anything interested him. both he and his companion, a sallow, black-haired personage with a drooping pair of moustaches, were just then, seemingly, much engrossed. "yes, some place off thar'," rejoined the black-haired man with a wave of his hand toward the west--in which the sun, a ball of red fire, was now dropping, "some whar off thar, across that alkali, jim bell has his golden-egged goose." "hush, not so loud, sam; one of those kids is looking at us." "pshaw, they hain't got sense to suspect nuthin'," was the scornful reply. "wonder if buck bellew will be hyar ter meet us." as he spoke the train wheels ceased to revolve and the cars came to a standstill in blue creek, a sun-bitten outpost of the "big alkali." chapter ii at the national house blue creek was experiencing a spasm of excitement unusual to it. as a general thing, the dwellers on the edge of the great alkali wastes--once the bed of a mighty inland sea--were by far too much occupied in keeping reasonably cool, to betray even a passing interest in anything; except the arrival of a train of desolate-looking mules bearing gold from the barren, melancholy hills that rimmed the far-reaching alkali solitudes. but the dust-whitened train, which twice a day puffed into blue creek and twice a day puffed joyfully out again, had, on this particular afternoon, set down a party which had caused unusual speculation among the blue creekites. "thar's jim bell, frum out the desert, an' an old gent who looks like he might be some kin to jim, and then thar's them likely lookin' lads an' those uncommon purty gals. never know jim hed a fam'ly afore. ef he hez he's kep it mighty quiet all these ya'rs." these remarks emanated from the throat of cash dallam, owner of the national house, blue creek's leading, and likewise only, hotel. the national was a board structure, formerly painted--with some originality of taste--a bright orange hue, relieved with red trimmings round doors, windows and eaves. but the sun had blistered and the hot desert winds had cracked and peeled its originally gaudy hues, and it was now a melancholy monotone of dull, pallid yellow. here and there the paint had vanished altogether, and the bleached boards showed underneath. like most of the other structures in blue creek--which boasted a general store, post office and chinese laundry and restaurant combined the national house was coated with a thin layer of gray alkali dust, the gift of the glittering desert beyond its gates. cash dallam's companions on the porch, which faced the railroad station and so was a favorite lounging place for the prominent citizens of blue creek and the guests of the hostelry, seemed only languidly interested. "thet's a powerful pile of baggage they're toting round," observed "shavings" magoon, who owed his nickname to the peculiar color and length of his hair, which looked as if it might have been gathered up bodily from the floor of a carpenter's shop and transferred to the top of his wrinkled countenance, about which it hung like a dubious aureole. "you say that the tall chap yonder is jim, bell?" the question, asked with some appearance of interest, came from a slender, dark-haired man in a blue shirt and leather "chaps," his face overshadowed by a big sombrero, who up to this time had not spoken. he had been leaning against the front wall of the national, thoughtfully removing some more of its paint by scraping it with the big rowelled mexican spurs which he affected. these spurs, heavily mounted with silver, together with a red sash he wore in the mexican style about his waist, rather marked him out from his fellows on the national's porch. cash dallam looked round as if in astonishment at the voice. "why hal-lo, stranger," he said, "whar you bin hidin' all these moons? yes, that's jim bell, sure enough. wouldn't think he wuz a millionaire ter look at him, would yer?" the other shook his head. "can't most always sometimes tell," he remarked humorously; "that's a right pretty gal yonder, too. any of you heard what jim bell's doing in blue creek?" the question came abruptly. "don't rightly know," was cash's reply, "but i heard thet before he went fast jim bell worked his way further inter ther desert than any man has ever bin. what he wuz arter i dunno, but it wouldn't be like jim bell ter risk his life fer muthin'." "do you reckon it was gold?" the slender young man's dark eyes kindled in the word he used there was some potent fascination for him. "donno 'bout gold," said cash, thoughtfully; "thar's silver, yes, and platinum back younder. so ther injuns say anyhow. but thar's mighty few white men hes ever got thet fur, an' if they did, they never come back to tell." he gazed out over the crystalline, quivering desert, burning whitely as a spangled christmas card under the scorching sun. in his day cash had seen many set out across it who never reappeared. "pity thar hain't no way of gitting thar without having ter use stock." "ortermobiles?" suggested a withered old man with the desert tan and wrinkles upon him. "tired 'em," struck in another of the same type. "no go. sunk to ther hubs in mud holes an' then if it wusn't thet ther wuz ther sand to shove through and they hed ter give it up. no, ther vehicle or ther critter hain't invented that's goin' ter get away off thar back of beyond whar the gold lies--or whar they say it does," he added rather doubtfully. "when i was a kid back east my poor mother used ter tell me that gold lay at ther end of ther rainbow. i began huntin' it then and i've kep' it up ever since, an' will to ther end, i reckon." "you say the vehicle isn't invented that will cross that stretch of alkali?" asked the tall young man, with a jingle of the metal ornaments hanging from the chased shank of his spurs. "thet's what. no rig, er devil wagon, er critters neither." the reply was given with the emphasis of conviction. "how about airships?" the remark was dropped carelessly almost, by the spur-wearer. "airships! by ginger, thet's so!" the pessimist spoke in a rather crestfallen tone. "seems ter me i read in an eastern paper a while back suthin' about jim bell's bin at a place near new york and engaging a young chap ter build him some aeroplanes. thar was a good bit of mystery about it. say, boys, i wonder ef that's what jim bell's in blue creek fur?" "thar's one thing sartin," spoke up "shavings" magoon, "ef jim bell's got ther means ter git an aerial gold line he'll be safe enough frum them ornery road agents like ther fellers thet stuck up ther laredo stage only last week an' got away with the specie box from red river falls. i reckon thar ain't no stage robbers with acroplanes yet a while." "queer thing about that laredo robbery," put in cash thoughtfully, "thar was several inter it, an' it seems thet they've all got clar away." "good thing for them, eh?" said the stranger, jingling his spur ornaments harder than ever. cash sniffed. "good thing. wall, stranger, i'd hate ter tell you what 'ud be the least of what 'ud happened to them, it would freeze your blood." "not an unpleasant thing to have happen to day," said the stranger, carelessly, and carefully flicking some gray dust from his "chaps" with his rawhide quirt, "so you think that jim bell means to start some sort of an air line from whatever he has discovered in the interior into this place?" "don't know nothing about it," snapped cash, rather impatiently; "you're a heap interested in jim bell, stranger." "naturally. he's quite a famous man in his way. i suppose he is one of the greatest mining authorities in the west." but at this point cash perceived that mr. bell's party had finished seeing to the disposal of their piles of baggage and were headed for the hotel. the operation had been a long one, as they bestowed particular attention upon sundry wooden boxes of oblong shape which might have held almost anything. whatever their contents might be they were evidently held in some esteem by the bell party. a few seconds after cash had broken off the conversation so abruptly, he was greeting the new arrivals. the other porch loungers stood sheepishly at some distance, some of them uneasily twisting their fingers. the presence of the young girls in the party filled them with a bashful terror such as the had never experienced in the numerous adventures and perils through which most of them had passed. "the young ladies are miss prescott and miss bancroft," mr. bell said, introducing his companions, after the fashion of the western country, to the hotel proprietor; "this is roy prescott and his chum, jimsy bancroft, and this," indicating the man whose resemblance to himself had already been remarked upon, "this is my brother, mr. peter bell." "glad ter meet yer, miss; glad ter meet yer all, i'm sure," sputtered out cash with one of his finest bows, and cash was reckoned to be "a right elegant chap" in that primitive society. chapter iii voices in the night after supper--a queer meal to their eastern tastes--the young folks were glad enough to retire to their rooms. "oh, what a funny place!" cried jess, as she and peggy, carrying a glass lamp which reeked of kerosene, entered their chamber. the walls were of rough boards with no attempt at ornamentation, a gorgeous checked crazy-quilt covered the bed--for though the days are hot on the desert, the nights are quite sharp. the floor, like the walls, was bare, and when the girls peered at themselves in the tiny mirror they gave little squeals of amused disgust. the heat of the sun, too, had drawn out the resinous qualities of the raw wood, and the room was impregnated with an aroma not unlike that of a pine forest under a hot sun. "i expect we'll see some much funnier places before we get back east," said peggy decidedly, and beginning to unpack her silver-fitted dressing-bag, which was the one luxury she had allowed herself. "i expect so, too; and i think it's jolly to rough it," chimed in her chum; "but it's hard to get used to it all at once. stepping right off a pullman into this is rather a sharp contrast, you must admit." "it is," agreed peggy, heartily. she stepped to the window and gazed out on an uncovered porch outside. it was, in fact, the roof of the one below. on it flourished quite a little grove of scraggly plants of various kinds, which were carefully tended by cash's wife. they were, perhaps, the only green things in blue creek. but peggy had little eye for all this. her lips parted in a quick gasp of admiration as she gazed upon the night spell of the desert. the dark sky was sprinkled with countless stars, large and luminous and beaming with a softer, stronger light than in the north. a brooding silence hung over the town--the silence of the desert. the hush was broken only by the droning notes of a song, accompanied on a guitar, which came from off in the distance on the outskirts of the little settlement. the music emphasized rather than broke the silence. jess came to peggy's side, and upon her, too, descended the feeling of awe that the "great alkali" casts over all who encounter it for the first time. "peggy," she said at length, "i'm--i'm the least bit frightened." her chum felt a slight shiver run through the girl as she pressed against her. "frightened, girlie? frightened of what?" "i don't just know. that's what makes it feel so bad. i guess it's the silence, the sense of all that loneliness out beyond there that upsets me. it feels almost as if there were some living presence off over the alkali that meant us harm." "i think i know what the matter is," said peggy gently, "you're tired and overwrought. come, let us get to bed, for mr. bell has ordered in early start in the morning." just how long afterward it was the awakened peggy had no means of telling, but as she lay sleepless she felt a longing to look out over the light-shrouded desert once more. arising she tiptoed to the window, and drawing the shade without making more than the merest rustle of noise she looked out. as she did so peggy almost uttered a startled exclamation, which, however, she instantly checked. three men had just emerged upon the balcony from an adjoining window. they brought chairs with them and sat there smoking. peggy could catch the rank, strong odor of the tobacco. "it's better out here and we can talk more quietly," said one of them, as they sat down. "you say that bell and his outfit start to-morrow?" "that's what i overheard him say when i was listening to 'em talking arter supper," struck in another voice, "so i guess it's the early trail for us, too." "reckon so," came in a third speaker; "jim bell is going to travel fast. he's got the best horses and mules in this part of the country, and he won't spare 'em." "you mean the alkali won't, i guess," put in the first speaker with an unpleasant laugh; "but he won't go far with ther stock. at the last waterhole he'll leave 'em and go on by aeroplane." "you're crazy!" "never more sensible in my life. i--" "hush! don't make such a racket. fer all we know some of them may be awake and hear us. now the old steer wells trail--" but here the speaker sank his voice so low that it was impossible to hear his further words. but peggy, as she crept back to bed with her heart throbbing a little bit fast, felt vaguely that the conversation boded some ill to the mining man and his party of gold seekers. "i'm sure i recognized one of those voices," she said to herself; "it was that of the tall, dark young man with the immense spurs and that picturesque red sash, who was eyeing us so at supper. jess and i thought he looked like a romantic brigand. what if he should turn out in real earnest to be a desperate character?" determining to speak to jim bell in the morning about the conversation she had overheard, peggy dropped off into a deep slumber at last, but her dreams were disturbing ones. now she was traversing the big alkali, with its pungent dust in her nostrils and her feet crunching its crusty surface. she was lost, and would have cried out had she been able to open her lips. then she was dying of thirst. her lips were parched and cracked and the sun beat pitilessly down. so the hours passed till the stars began to pale and a new day was at hand. before sunrise the party had been called, and, filled with excitement, made the wooden walls of the national rouse resound with the hum of preparation. now, though peggy at midnight had fully determined to tell mr. bell all she had overheard, peggy, in the bright, crisp early dawn, felt that to do so would be absurd. after all, the men might merely have been chatting about the party, whose expedition was surely an adventurous and interesting one. it might make mr. bell think her a victim of girlish fancies if she went to him with the story, so peggy decided to remain silent. afterward she was sorry for this. as arrangements had been made with the ubiquitous cash for burros and ponies before the party left for the west, there was little or no delay in getting started. the girls uttered delighted exclamations as their little animals were led up to the hotel steps by a long-legged mexican who was to accompany the party to steer wells, where the ponies were to be abandoned and a permanent camp formed. from that point the dash into the alkali would be made by aeroplane. for peggy there was a lively little "calico" animal which both girls pronounced "a darling." but jess was no less pleased with her little animal, a bright bay with a white star on its forehead. for the boys similar animals had been provided, while miss prescott's mount was a rather raw-boned gray of sedate appearance. in her youth miss prescott had done a good deal of horseback riding, and the manner in which she sat her mount showed that she had not forgotten her horsemanship. mr. bell and his brother bestrode rather heavier animals than the rest of the party, while juan, the guide, contented himself with a remarkably small burro. when in the saddle his lanky legs stuck out on either side of his long-eared steed and appeared to be sort of auxiliary propellers for the creature. six pack burros had been obtained, and on two of these the camp equipment and utensils were carried. the remainder of the little animals carried the wooden cases in which the three monoplanes were packed, and the boxes containing mining instruments and tools. one of these was painted red, and in it was carried a supply of "giant" powder--a kind of dynamite used in mining operations. "i shall keep my eye on that particular burro," remarked jimsy, "and if he ever runs away i shall gallop off in the opposite direction." but mr. bell explained that the explosive stuff was packed in such a manner that even the most violent shock would not set it off. "still, we won't experiment," declared roy. ten minutes after the cavalcade had drawn up in front of the hotel, attracting the attention of the entire population of blue creek, the party was ready to set out on the first stage of their adventurous, journey. the girls looked very natty in corduroy skirts, neat riding boots, with plain linen waists and jaunty sombreros. the boys, like mr. bell and his brother, were in khaki, and each carried a fine rifle, the gift of mr. bell. miss prescott had at first wished to resuscitate her old riding habit, but instead, before she left the east, the girls had persuaded her to have an up-to-date one made of cool, greenish khaki. "you look like a modern diana," said mr. bell, with a gallant bow, which brought the color miss prescott's blooming cheeks. "really, mr. bell, that is too bad of you, when you know i am trying to grow old gracefully," retorted miss prescott. "and now," said mr. bell, running a watchful eye over the entire outfit, "we are all ready to start." a cheer, which the girls took up, came ringing from the boys' throats. "hooray!" they shouted. "good luck!" cried cash dallam from his porch, and several in the crowd caught up the cry.. juan uttered a series of extraordinary whoops, and working his legs like the long limbs of a seventeen-year locust, he dashed to the head of the procession. the next minute they were off, the pack burros trotting behind in a sedate line. but just as they started an odd thing happened. peggy experienced that peculiar feeling which sensitive persons feel when they are being watched. glancing quickly round she encountered the penetrating glance of the tall, dark young man who had formed one of the group on the porch the previous evening. he turned his eyes away instantly as he perceived that his interested gaze had been intercepted. as he did so, peggy, despite the heat, felt a little shiver run through her. but the emotion passed in a moment under the excitement of the dash forward. before long, the rough habitations of blue creek lay far behind them, and in front there lay, glittering under the blinding sun, the far-reaching expanse of the desert. off to the southwest hovered what seemed to be a blue cloud on the horizon. but they knew that in that direction lay the black rock hills, a desolate chain of low, barren mountains. as if by instinct they all drew rein as the solitudes closed in about them. rising in his stirrups mr. bell pointed into the distance. "yonder lies the end of the rainbow!" he exclaimed with a touch of rude poetry. "and back there are the wings to fetch forth the pot of gold," laughed jess, indicating the packing cases on the burros' backs. "yes, the golden wings," struck in peggy, but there was a wistful note underlying her light tone. the spell of the desert, the unreclaimed and desolate, was upon her. chapter iv the desert hawks while our little party had been making its way so arduously across the almost impenetrable waste of sand and alkali, another party equipped with tough, desert-bred horses and a knowledge, so intimate as to be uncanny, of the secret ways and trails of the sun-bitten land, had made preparations for departure. it had been no fancy on peggy's part when she imagined that she heard the partial details of a plot against mr. bell on the night during which she had lain awake in the rough hotel of blue creek. had the party possessed the power of seeing through partitions of solid timber, they would have been able to behold within that room a scene transpiring which must, inevitably, have filled them with uneasiness and even alarm. red bill summers, one of the best known of the desert hawks, as the nefarious rascals who ply their highwayman's trade on the desert are sometimes called, had been one of the passengers on the train whose keenly observing eyes had surveyed the little party as they disembarked. his companion, the man with the drooping moustache was likewise invested with a somewhat sinister reputation. but probably the worst of the trio who foregathered that night at the national house was the romantic looking young man with the red sash and the silver spurs whom the others called buck bellew. mr. bell and his expedition into the desert formed the topic of their conversation. it was evident, as they talked, that their main desire was to trap or decoy him on his way, but as they discussed plans this intention gradually changed. "he's got kids with him, and young gals, too;" said the dark-mustached man, who seemed to be a little less ruffianly than his companions, "we don't want to do them no harm." "not if we can help it," rejoined red bill summers, wrinkling his low forehead, "but i ain't goin' ter let them stand in our way." "of course not," chimed in buck bellew, playing with the tassels on his red sash, and jingling his silver-mounted spurs in a somewhat dandified fashion, "pretty girls, too," he added. "ther point's just this," struck in red bill, apparently paying no attention to the other's conversation, "jim bell's got a desert mine some place out thar yonder. this young chap he had with him, what's his name--" "prescott," suggested buck bellew. "ay, prescott, that's it. wal, this yer prescott has invented some sort of an air ship, i read that in the papers. it's pretty clear to my mind that this air ship is going to be used in getting the gold out of the desert. that's plain enough, eh?" "yes, if your first idee is right. if he's got a paying mine in reality," agreed bellew. "oh, i'm satisfied on that point. jim bell's too old a fox to go inter the desert onless he had stithin' worth going arter." "well, what are we going to do about it?" asked the third man with a grin, "build an aeroplane, too. for myself i'm free to confess i ain't no sky pilot and don't never expect to be one." "this ain't a minstrel show," scowled red bill. "couldn't help laffin' though," said the black-mustached one, "talkin' uv aviators reminded me of that story of the feller who went ter see i lier doctor and git some medicine. ther doc he says, 'i want you to take three drops in water very day.' ther young chap fainted. when he recovered they asked him what the matter was. he says, 'i'm an aviator. three drops in water would finish me in a week.'" "that'll do from you," grunted red bill, without the trace of a smile at this little anecdote, "let's git down to bizness. those folks leave here to-morrow. they'll go early in the morning. "we can't follow them too close without excitin' suspicion. the problem is to keep track of them without they're knowing it." "don't they take any servants or help?" asked bellew after a pause. "yes, they do." "you're certain?" "i made it my business to find out. they are going to take a guide. have him engaged, in fact." "who is he?" "oh, a no good mexican, a chap named juan baptista." "juan baptista!" exclaimed bellew slapping his leg, "that's fine. couldn't be better." "you know him?" "so well that he'll have to do anything i say." "you can make him obey you then?" "i know of a horse stealing case in which he was mixed up. if he won't do what we tell him to i'll threaten him with exposure." "good. he is sleeping in the corral with their ponies. let's go down there now and rouse him out. then we'll have part of the business settled." "i'm agreeable. come on." as noiselessly as possible the three plotters crept from the room and tip-toed down the corridors. following a long passage they presently emerged into a star-lit stable-yard. in that part of the west doors are not locked at night, so they could go out without bothering about a key. "where's the corral?" whispered buck as they came out of the hotel. "right over there. see that haystack. the greaser's asleep this side of it. right under where that saddle is hanging on the fence." "all right. come on." led by buck bellew, whose spurs gave out an occasional jingle, they crept across the yard. presently they came upon a dark bundle lying huddled at the foot of the corral palings. bellew stirred the inanimate bundle with his foot. the spurs gave out a tinkling, musical jingle. the thing moved, stirred and finally galvanized into life. it was finally revealed as the figure of a rather ill-favored mexican, unusually tall for one of his race who are, as a rule, squat and small. "buenas tardes, juan!" greeted buck bellew. "buenas tardes, senors," was the response. "but what for do you disturb me in thees way. know that to-morrow with the rising of the sun i have to awake and saddle the beasts, and fare forth into the alkali with party of gringoes." "that's all right. that's what we came to talk to you about, juan," said bellew. he bent low and pushed his face almost into the mexican's brown and sleepy countenance. "do you know me!" he grated out. "todos santos! caramba! it is the senor bellew!" "not so loud juan. there may be somebody around who would recognize that name. it is enough that you know me." "what do you wish with me, senor?" the mexican's voice shook. evidently he feared this tall, good-looking, though dissolute, young gringo. "you are to escort a party of gringos headed by a senor bell as far as steer wells, are you not?" "si senor. as i said to-morrow before the rising of the sun must i be awake. i must saddle and pack, and--" "all right. never mind that. i have a little bit of work for you to perform, too. if you do it well you will be rewarded. if not--" "if not senor--?" "if not--well don't let us dwell on unpleasant subjects. i want you to ride with these gringos. listen to all that they say. talk to them and learn from them all that you can." "of what?" "of their destination--of where they are going--what they are going to do when they get there, and so on. you understand?" "perfectly senor. but they have paid me well and promised more. senor bell is a good man. he is--" "will you do what i tell you?" the voice was sharp and imperious. "senor, i would do much for you. but this--" the mexican spread his hands helplessly. "i cannot. it would be too bad a thing to do." "very well. i'll call cash dallam. tell him who you are and how it was you who was concerned in the theft of those horses from diablo river. you know what would happen to you then. you know--" but the mexican was down on his knees. his hands were raised in mute appeal. his teeth' chattered like the busy heels of a clog dancer. "no, no, senor. santa maria, no, no!" he begged. "it's entirely up to you," was the cold response. "now will you do as i say?" "yes, yes. a thousand times yes, senor. anything you say-- anything." "i thought so," rejoined bellew grimly. he turned with a look of triumph to the two silent spectators of the scene, who nodded smilingly. the mexican's pitiful agitation seemed only to amuse those callous hearts. "you will travel, as i said, with these gringos," pursued bellew, "and glean all the information you can. then, when you have found out all about where they mean to go, and how long they mean to stay and so on, you will find an opportunity to drop out of their company." "si senor," quavered the man, "and then--" "and then you will be met by us. we shall take care of you." "but senor bell and the senoritas?" "we will take care of them, too," was the grim response. it was not till the next day, at noon, that the three desert hawks left the hotel, long after the departure of the bell party. they rode slowly in the opposite direction to that in which the other party had gone, till they had gotten out of sight of the little town. then, taking advantage of every dip and rise in the surface of the plain, they retraced their steps and soon were riding on the track of the bell outfit. "whar wa'ar you all ther forenoon?" asked the black-mustached man of red bill as they rode along. "i was doing a bit of profitable business," was the rejoinder. "selling something?" "no finding something out. boys, jim bell's in our power." "in our power," laughed the other, a laugh in which bellew chimed in. "i reckon you don't know him yet." "don't eh?" snarled red bill, stung into acrimonious retort. "i reckon your brain works just a bit too quick, buck." "waal, ef you know so much, let's hear it?" the red-sashed, silver-spurred buck bellew reined in closer to his companions, rowelling his little active "paint" horse as he did so, till it jumped and curvetted. "it's just this," said red bill summers, unconsciously lowering his tone although there was no one about to hear but his companions, a few, blasted-looking yuccas and, far overhead, a wheeling buzzard. "jim bell ain't never filed no location of ther mine with ther guv'ment." if he had expected to produce a sensation, he must have felt justified by the results of this announcement. buck bellew whistled. the black-mustached man gave a low, long-drawn-out exclamation of: "wo-o-o-w!" "thought you'd sit up and take notice," grinned their leader. "sounds foolish-like, but it's true. i searched ther records, but it ain't on 'em." "maybe he's filed a claim some place else," suggested the black-mustached man. "there you go, throwing cold water as usual," snorted buck bellew. "taint cold water. it's common, ornery hoss sense. that's what it is. do you s'pose that any man 'ud be foolish enough to locate a rich mine an' then not file a claim to it?" "heard of sich things been done," commented red bill. "maybe he ain't over and above anxious fer anyone ter go in alongside of him afore he's had a chanct ter take up some more land. maybe--" "waal, no use guessing at sich things," rejoined buck; "fer my part i guess red is right. jim bell ain't had the hoss sense te file a claim. and if he ain't--" "that makes it all the easier fer us. wonder ef thet feller juan is learning much?" bill summers was the speaker. "he's sharp as a steel trap," volunteered bellew, "when he wants to be." "i guess arter that dressing down you giv' him las' night he'll want to be, all right," opined the black-mustached man. "guess so," grinned buck; "if he ain't, it'll be the worse fer him." as he spoke they topped a little rise. over in front of them, and on all sides--the desert, vast, illimitable, untrod of man, lay, a desolate expanse of nothingness. far, far off could be seen a tiny blue cloud, resting on the horizon--the desert range. "thar's whar jim bell's mine is, i'll bet a hoss and saddle," said bellew reining in his horse and pointing to the distant azure mass. "guess you'd win," nodded red bill summers, "and," he added, his keen eyes narrowing to slits he gazed straight ahead, "and thar, i reckon, is jim bell himself and his party." they followed the direction of his gaze. far off across the glittering ocean of sand and alkali a yellowish cloud--almost vaporish, arose. it seemed to be a sort of water spout on land. it drifted lazily upward. the experienced desert hawks knew it for what it was. the dust cloud raised by a company of travelers. as their glances rested on it intently, not one of the three figures toping the crest of the little rise, spoke. their tired horses, too, stood absolutely still. men and animals might have been petrified figures, carved out of the desolation about them. there was a something impressive about them as they stood there in the midst of the desert glare. silent, hawk-like, and intent. their very poses seemed to convey a sense of menace--of danger. suddenly they wheeled and turned, and their mounts, as the spurs struck their damp sides, broke into a lope. as they galloped, red bill burst into a song. a lugubrious, melancholy thing, like most of the songs of the plainsmen. "bury me out on lone prair-ee out where the snakes and the coyotes be; drop not a tear on my sage brush grave out on the lone prair-e-e-e-e-e!" then the others struck in, their ponies' hoofs making an accompaniment to the gruesome words: "the sands will shift in the desert wind; my bones will rot in the alkali kind; i'll be happier there than ever i be in my grave, on the lone prair-e-e-e-e-e!" it began to sound like a dirge, but still the leader of the hawks of the desert kept it up. he bellowed it out now in a harsh, shrill voice. it rasped uncomfortably, like rusty iron grating on rusty iron. "maybe upon the judgment day; when all sinners their debt must pay; they'll find me and bind me and judge poor me; all in my grave, on the lone prair-e-e-e-e-e-e!" as the last words of this dismal chant rang out, an echo seemed to be flung back at the singer from behind a neighboring ridge, upon which the lone yuccas stood upright, like, so many figures of formed bits of humanity. "ye-e-e-e-e-e-e!" it came in a long drawn out wail that fairly seemed to make the desert ring with its gruesome echoes. all at once it was taken up from another point. then another echoed it back. it seemed to be proceeding from a dozen quarters of the compass at once. strong nerved as all three of the riders were, it appeared to make a strange impression on them. "what in the name of kit carson wuz that?" demanded red bill drawing rein. "dunno. it sounded like someone havin' fun with that ther cheerful little song of yourn," said the black-mustached man. "that's what it did. i'd like to find the varmint. i'd make some fun fer him." the man scowled savagely. his nerves had been unpleasantly shaken by the wild, unearthly cries. "it didn't sound human," he said at length; "tell you what, let's jes' look aroun' and see if we kin find any trace of who done it." buck bellew said nothing but he grinned to himself. plainly something amused him hugely. "all right;" he said, "we'll look." they rode about among the desert dips and gullies for some time, but they could discover no trace of any agency that could have produced the weird cries. both red bill and the black-mustached man were plainly nonplussed. "this beats all," opined summers. "i don't even see a track any place." "nor don't i," rejoined his companion seriously. both were superstitious men, a failing apparently not shared by bellew, who stood regarding them, seated easily sideways in his saddle, with an amused look. "hey bellew, why don't you come an' look. you alters wuz a good tracker?" demanded red bill looking up suddenly. "not fer me, thanks," was the easy response, "ef you want to hunt spooks--" "who said it wuz a spook or any such pack uv nonsense?" glared back summers. "i didn't," declared the black-mustached man with great positiveness. "no more did i," angrily sputtered red bill "thar ain't no such things nohow." "i dunno," said the black-mustached man seriously. "i do recollec' hearing my old grandmother, back east, tell about a ghost what she seen once. want ter hear about it?" no one replied, and taking silence for consent, he went on. "grandmother was married to a decent old chap that was a teamster. he used to haul farm stuff to the city in the day and it was often pretty late afore he got out again. well, on his way he had to pass a cemetery, a buryin' ground you know, and i tell you he didn't like it. it sort of got on his nerves to think that some night one of them dead folks lying there all so quiet might arise from ther graves. "it seems as how it allers haunted him ter think that some night as he wuz drivin' by that ther buryin' ground--" "yer said that once before," snapped summers looking nervously about him, "get on with your story." "well i am, ain't i?" "not fast enough." "waal this is a ghost story and ghosts don't move fast." "ho! ho!" laughed bellew hollowly. "as i was sayin', grandpop didn't like the idee of some night seeing a tall form, all in white, come gliding down among them tombstones, and raising its hand cry to him in a solemn voice--" "wow." the shout came from summers. he had suddenly felt something light on his shoulder. thence it had crawled to neck and laid clammy feet upon him. it was an immense dragon fly, but he had evidently mistaken it for something else, to judge by the start and exclamation he had given. "ain't gittin' on yer nerves, be i?" asked the black-mustached man innocently. "no, no. get on with your fool story for goodness sake." "you wuz a sayin' thet your fool grandpop wuz supposin' that ef something said to him as he wuz-oh, go on and tell it yourself!" "all right. well then grandpop was jes' a thinkin' how awful it 'ud be ef anything like that ever did happen. he'd come home and talk to grandma'am at nights about it. i tell you his nerves was powerful upsot. suthin' like yours." "like mine, you long-legged lizard!" "i mean like yours might hev bin ef you'd bin in my grandpop's place, red." "oh, all right. perceed. what nex'?" "waal, one night jes what he'd bin a dreadin' did come ter pass. he was goin' by ther graveyard when he hearn the awfulest screech you ever hearn--" "yow-e-ow-ee-ow-ow!" red bill summers started and turned pale. it was a repetition of the cry that had interrupted his song. without wasting time on ceremonies, he dug his spurs into his horse and dashed off. the narrator of the ghost story, as badly scared as his companion, followed him at post haste. ther bellew laughing heartily, turned and followed them. but at a more leisurely speed. from time to time, as he pursued the flying forms, his big frame shook with mirth. somebody once said that a man who gives a hearty laugh was not all bad. if this is true, there must have been considerable good in buck bellew. after about a mile of riding he overtook the other two. "what's the hurry?" he inquired easily. "nuthin', nuthin'," said summers, still a bit shaky, "my pony scairt at suthin, i reckon, and jes' naturally dashed off. i had a hard job te pull the cayuse in." "same hyar, same hyar," said the black-mustached man. "rot!" laughed bellew. "in my opinion, you're both a pair of cowards. don't pull your gun on me, summers. you wouldn't fire at me, and you know it." summers sullenly put up his gun. "say, what's ther matter with you, buck?" he asked grumpily. "what's the matter with you two, you mean? why, you dashed off like a girl in a red sweater with a bull on her heels." "i tole you ther ponies ran away," said summers, shifting his little eyes. somehow he couldn't look bellew in the face. "yes, and i guess what made 'em run was suthin' like this--" a quizzical look stole over bellew's lean, handsome features. all at once the air became filled with the same mysterious sounds that had so alarmed summers and the other man. "ye-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-ow-w-w-w-w-w-e-e-eeeee!" "buck! you consarned old ventriloconquest!" shouted summers, vastly relieved as bellew burst into a roar of hearty laughter. "forgot i used to be ventriloquist with a medicine show, eh?" chuckled bellew, rolling about in his saddle. "come in handy sometimes, don't it?" "waal, next time yer goin' ter practice, jes' let us know in advance." summers' face held rather a sheepish grin as he spoke. the black-mustached man looked even more foolish. "make a good signal, wouldn't it?" asked bellew presently. "yes. by the way, reckon you could imitate a coyote, buck?" "easy. listen!" a perfect imitation of a coyote's yapping, hyena-like cry rang out. "great. maybe we can use that sometime." how soon that cry was to be used, and to what disastrous effect on our little party of adventurers, we shall see as our story progresses. but the next time buck bellew gave that thrilling, spine-tightening cry, was to be under far different circumstances, and with far different results--results fraught with great importance to our young adventurers. chapter v the divining rods "what wonderful clouds. they remind one of the fantastic palaces of the arabian nights!" exclaimed miss prescott. it was at the close of the noonday halt that she spoke, reclining with the rest of the party under a canvas shelter, beneath which lunch had been eaten. off to the southwest the clouds she referred to had been, in fact, gathering for some time. domed, terraced and pinnacled, they rose in gloomy grandeur on the far horizon. but miss prescott had not been the first to notice them. for some reason mr. bell, after gazing at the vaporous masses for a few minutes, looked rather troubled. he summoned juan, who was feeding his beloved burro, and waved his hand toward the clouds, the same time speaking rapidly in spanish. "what is it? is there a storm coming?" asked jess, noting mr. bell's somewhat troubled look. "i do not know, and juan says he is not certain yet either," was the response. "let us hope not, however." "i don't see why it should trouble us," said peggy. "we have good tents and shelter, and as far as a good wetting is concerned i should think it would do this dried up place a lot of good." "that is not what was worrying me," confessed mr. bell with a smile; "if it was to be an ordinary eastern storm i should not mind any more than you. but the desert has many moods--as many as--you will pardon me--a young lady. even the storms of the big alkali are not like others. they are dry storms." "this would be no place for an umbrella dealer then," remarked jimsy airily. "no, i am speaking seriously," went on mr. bell; "frequently such storms do great damage through lightning, although, during their progress, not a drop of rain falls. the electrical display, however, is sometimes terrific. that is what i mean when i say 'a dry storm."' "i can't bear lightning," cried jess; "i always go in the cellar at home when it comes." "never mind, jess, roy and i will dig you one if the storm hits us," put in her brother gallantly. "and one for me, too, please!" cried miss prescott; "i'm dreadfully afraid of lightning." "well, let us hope that we shall none of us have any cause for alarm," put in peter bell, the former hermit. "when i lived my solitary life i often used to wander out in the height of a storm. it was beautiful to watch the lightning ripping and tearing across the sky. the lightning and the thunder did not scare me a bit. but--." "you'd soon have changed your mind if by lightning you'd been hit," struck in jimsy before the old man could complete his verse. a good natured laugh, in which peter bell joined as heartily as the others, followed this bit of improvisation. "well, let us be pressing on," said mr. bell presently; "we are not carrying any too heavy a water supply, and i am anxious to replenish it by nightfall. by the way, that means a new experience for you youngsters. you will get your first taste of alkali water." "but how are you going to get water in this desert?" exclaimed roy wonderingly. "you will see before many hours," was the reply with which they had to be content. all that afternoon they pressed on without anything of interest occurring. the distant clouds grew more imposing and blacker in hue, but they seemed to draw no closer. the heat, however, was oppressive, and the glare of the desert hurt peggy's eyes. "if they didn't look so hideous, i wish i'd brought along those old smoked glasses i wore on the beach at atlantic city," she thought more than once. sundown found the party skirting along the foot of rough, broken hills clothed with a scanty vegetation. juan nodded approvingly and at once suggested making the camp there. "we'll see if there is any water first," said mr. bell. "it looks as if you need not take the trouble," declared roy, "it's as dry as a week-old crust." "not quite so fast, young man," laughed mr. bell, "appearances are often deceitful, especially on the desert." he dismounted, and reaching into one of the packs drew forth a slender forked stick. then, while they all gazed in a puzzled silence at his actions, he passed it hither and thither over the dry floor of the desert. "oh, i know what it is now!" cried peggy suddenly. "it's a divining rod!" "a divining rod?" echoed roy. "what's that?" "oh, look!" cried jess, before peggy could answer; "it's moving!" the slender switch held by mr. bell was certainly behaving in a very odd manner. it could be seen to bend and sway and hop and skip about as if it had been suddenly endued with life. mr. bell, who was by now at some distance from the party, looked up with a satisfied expression. "get a shovel and dig here!" he ordered juan. but the mexican had fallen into a deep slumber from which it took not a little effort to awaken him. when he was finally roused and made to understand what was required of him, he set to work with a will, however, and made the dirt fly. the boys pitched in, too, and before long quite a deep hole had been excavated. the girls, peeping cautiously over its edge, gave a delighted cry. actual water was beginning to drain into it from the side. true, it was not of the color or temperature they had been used to associating with the fluid, but still the sight of it was welcome enough to the travel-stained wayfarers. "you can come out now, boys, and leave the hole to fill up, which it will soon do," declared mr. bell. the interval of waiting for the water to flow in a goodly quantity was spent in adjusting the girls' tent, and in setting the camp to rights generally. a sort of blue-colored bunch grass grew in considerable quantities about the water hole, and this the burros seemed to find quite palatable. the ponies and horses, however, would not touch it, and had to be regaled on the pressed hay and grain which were carried for the purpose. in the midst of all this there came a sudden sharp cry from the water hole, followed by a loud splash. "it's old mr. bell! he's fallen into the water hole!" shrilled peggy. "head over heels, too. hurry and we'll get him out," cried the boys. roy seized up a lariat, and followed by the others started for the hole. it was as they had guessed. venturing too close to the brink of the excavation, old mr. bell had slipped, and the former hermit was floundering about like a grampus in the water when his rescuers appeared. luckily, it was not deep, and they soon had him out of it and on his feet. the old man, with great good nature, declared that he had rather enjoyed his involuntary bath than otherwise. he was so mud-stained and drenched, however, that it was necessary for him to make an immediate change of clothes. when he emerged from his tent with dry apparel, the aged recluse felt moved to compose a verse, which he did as follows: "within the mud hole's watery depths, a grave i almost met, but luckily i was pulled out alive, but very wet." "well, peter," laughed his brother, "you certainly are a poetic philosopher. but now, if you are quite finished with the water hole, we will draw some for our own use, and then juan can let the stock have a drink." as the first bucket for camp use was drawn, peggy hastened up with a cup and extended it. "oh, do let me have a drink," she exclaimed; "i'm dying with thirst and can't wait for tea." "same here," cried jess, eagerly. mr. bell smiled and eyed them quizzically. "i wouldn't advise you young ladies to try it till it has been boiled," he said, "but of course if you insist--" "we do," cried both girls. "fill the cups, juan," ordered mr. bell. the guide did so, and peggy and jess eagerly raised the receptacles. but hardly had they taken a swallow before they hurriedly ceased drinking. "oh, what awful stuff!" sputtered peggy, while jess simply gasped. "bah! it tastes like aged eggs added roy, who had also taken a swallow. "is it poisonous?" "not a bit of it," laughed mr. bell; "it is simply alkali water, and when you have drunk as much of it as i have you'll be used to it and not mind it. but i must admit that on first introduction it is rather trying. it is better when it is boiled, though. it seems to lose that acrid flavor." and so it proved; and miss prescott declared that she had never enjoyed a cup of tea so much as the one she drank that evening at supper on the desert. as dusk fell, juan produced a battered guitar from a case which was strapped to the back of his saddle, and seating himself cross-legged in the midst of a semi-circle of enthusiastic listeners he banged out a lot of spanish airs. then jimsy danced a jig with incomparable agility and roy did some tricks with cards and handkerchiefs that were declared superior to anything heretofore seen. but the little entertainment was to come to an abrupt conclusion. so engrossed had they been in its progress that they had not noticed that the sky had clouded over, and that it had suddenly grown insufferably oppressive. all at once a red glare enveloped the camp. it lasted only for the fraction of a second, but in its brief existence it displayed some very white and alarmed faces. the electric storm that mr. bell had dreaded was upon them. chapter vi a dry storm in describing what immediately followed, peggy has always declared that her sole impression was of continuous "flash and crash." the first red glare, as a jagged streak of lightning tore across the sky, was followed by an earsplitting thunder roll. almost instantly the entire heavens became alive with wriggling serpents of light. the criss-cross work of the bolts ranged in hue from a vivid eye-burning blue to an angry red. and all the time the thunder roared and crashed in one unceasing pandemonium. a smell of brimstone and sulphur filled the air. the tethered stock whinnied and plunged about in mad terror. "juan, look to the stock!" shouted mr. bell above the turmoil. but juan, at the first crash, had flung himself face downward on the sand and lay there trembling and praying. as there seemed no possibility of getting him up, the boys and mr. bell set to work on the by no means easy task of securing the terrified animals more carefully. in the meantime, the girls, in miss prescott's tent, were having a hard time to convince that lady that the end of the universe was not at hand. "oh, dear, why did we ever come out here!" cried the terrified woman; and then the next minute: "just hark at that! we shall all be killed! i know it! oh, this is terrible!" "it will soon be over, aunt, dear," exclaimed peggy bravely, though her own head ached and her eyes burned cruelly from the glare and uproar. "yes, dear miss prescott," chimed in jess; "it can't last; it--" there was a sudden blinding glare, followed by a crash that seemed as if the skies must have been rent open. with it mingled a loud scream from miss prescott and cries and shouts from outside the tent. "something in the camp has been struck!" exclaimed peggy rushing to the tent door. "it's juan's burro!" cried jess, who had followed her; "look at the poor thing, off over there." in the radiance of the electric display they could see quite plainly the still form of the little animal lying outstretched on the ground. juan heard the girl's cry, and for the first time since the storm had begun he moved. directly he perceived the motionless form of his mount he appeared to lose all his terror of the storm, and sprinted off toward it on his long legs. as he ran he called aloud on all the saints to look down upon his miserable fate. but as he reached the side of his long-eared companion, the creature, which had only been stunned by the bolt, suddenly sprang to its feet and, no doubt crazed by fear, began striking out with its hind hoofs. as ill luck would have it, poor juan came within direct range of the first kick, and was sent flying backward by its force. behind him lay the water hole, and before he could stop the cowardly guide found himself over the brink and struggling in the muddy water. his cries for help were piercing, but as mr. bell and the boys were busy, and as they knew that the mexican was in no actual peril, they left him there for a time. in the meantime, the first terrific violence of the storm had subsided, and before long it passed. as it growled and muttered off in the distance, lighting up the desert with an occasional livid glare, juan came scrambling out of the mud-hole. he did not say a word, but went straight up to his burro. he saddled it in silence, strapped his old guitar on its back and, swinging himself into the saddle, dashed off across the alkali, his long legs working like pendulums on either side of the little creature. it actually seemed as if he were propelling instead of riding it. the boys wanted to know if they should set off in pursuit of their errant guide, but mr. bell said that it would be the best thing to let him go if he wished. "he was more of a hindrance than a help," he declared, "and he and his burro between them ate far more than their share of food." "but won't the poor man become lost or starve?" asked miss prescott, who, now that her alarm had passed with the storm, had joined the group. "not much danger of that," laughed mr. bell, "a fellow of juan's type can subsist on next to nothing if he has to, and his burro is as tough as he is, i suspect." "at any rate, he must have thought so when he got that kick," laughed peggy. "it reminded me of a verse i once heard," put in the former hermit. and then, without waiting for anyone to ask him to repeat the lines in question, he struck up: "as a rule, never fool with a buzz saw or a mule." "i expect that's excellent advice," laughed the old man's brother, "but now, ladies and gentlemen, as the excitement of the night seems to be over, i think we had better retire. remember, an early start to-morrow, and if all goes well we ought to be at steer wells by nightfall." "if we steer well," muttered jimsy, not daring to perpetrate the pun in a louder tone of voice. fifteen minutes later, silence entrenched the camp, which seemed like a tiny island of humanity in the vast silence stretched round about. as they slumbered, the girls, with their silver-mounted revolvers--gifts from mr. bell--under their pillows, the clouds of the dry storm rolled away altogether, and the effulgent moon of the nevada solitudes arose. her rays silvered the desolate range of barren hills and threw into sharp relief the black shadows which marked the deep gulches, cutting the otherwise smoothly rounded surfaces of the strange formation. suddenly, from one of the gulches, the figure of a man on horseback emerged and stood, motionless as a statue, bathed in moonlight on an elevation directly overlooking the camp. for perhaps five minutes the horseman remained thus, silent as his surroundings. but suddenly a shrill whinny rang out from one of the horses belonging to our party, who had seen the strange animal. instantly the figure turned and wheeled, and when mr. bell, ever on the alert, emerged from his tent to ascertain what the noise might portend, nothing was to be seen. "that's odd," muttered the mining man, "horses don't usually whinny in the night except to others of their kind who may suddenly appear. i wonder--but, pshaw!" he broke off; "the thing's impossible. even if our mission were known nobody would dare to molest us. "but just the same," he continued, as, after a careful scrutiny, he returned to the tent he shared with his brother, "but just the same i'd like to know just why that animal whinnied." whoever the watcher of the camp had been, he did not reappear that night, but while old mr. bell prepared breakfast, and the girls were what the boys called "fixing up," the mining man summoned the boys to him and observed that he wished them to take a little stroll to see if better grass for the stock could not be found in the hills. this was so obviously an excuse to get them off for a quiet talk that the lads exchanged glances of inquiry. they said nothing, however, but followed mr. bell as he struck off toward the barren range. as soon as they were out of earshot of the camp the mining man informed them of his suspicions and of what he had heard the night before. "on thinking it over i am more than ever convinced that somebody must have been hovering about the camp last night," he declared, "but it is no use alarming the others unnecessarily, and, after all, i may be mistaken. in any event, from now on, we will post ourselves on sentry duty at night so as not to be taken by surprise in the event of any malefactors attacking us." "then you really think, sir, that somebody may have wind of the object of our journey and molest us?" inquired roy soberly. "i don't know; but it is always best to be on the safe side," was the rejoinder; "the towns on the edge of the desert are full of bad characters and it is possible that in some way the reason of our expedition has leaked out." by this time they had walked as far as the mouth of one of the bare canyons that split the range of low, barren hills. roy, whose eyes had been thoughtfully fixed on the ground, suddenly gave a sharp exclamation. "look here, mr. bell," he exclaimed, pointing downward, "what do you make of that?" he indicated the imprints of a horse's hoofs on the dry ground. "you have sharp eyes, my boy," was the reply; "those hoof-prints are not more than a few hot old, and certainly clinch my idea that someone on horseback was in the vicinity of the camp last night." jimsy looked rather grave at this. roy, too, had a troubled note in his voice as he inquired: "what do you make of it all, mr. bell?" "too early to say yet, my boy," said the mining man, who had been studying the hoof-prints, "but i can tell you this, that only one man was here last night." "we have nothing to fear from one man," exclaimed jimsy. "i know that," was mr. bell's response, "but this lone visitor of last night may have been only the scout or forerunner of the others, whoever they may be." "that's so," agreed roy, "at any rate he must have had some strong object in spying on us." nobody would come out into this desolate place without an aim of some sort." "no question but that you are right there," agreed mr. bell, whose face was grave, "i have half a mind to turn back and not bring the ladies further into what may prove to be a serious situation." "so far as peggy is concerned you'd have a hard time trying to get her to turn back now," declared roy; "her mind is bent upon helping to get the air line from the mine into working order, and i guess jess feels the same way about it." "it would be a sad blow to them to have to go back now," agreed jimsy; "suppose, mr. bell, we wait and make our suspicions more of a certainty before we decide upon anything." "perhaps that would be the best course," agreed the lad's elder, "but i must confess i feel sorely troubled. it is agreed, is it not, that not a word of our suspicions are to be breathed to the ladies?" "oh, of course," agreed roy; "after all," he added cheerfully, "the man who left those tracks may have been a prospector or a desert traveler of some kind, and have had no sinister motives." "i am inclined to think that, too," said mr. bell, after a pause; "after all, nobody could have any object in attacking us at such a time." chapter vii professor "wandering william" the ponies, and the larger steeds ridden by the elders of the party, were pushed forward at a rapid gait all the morning. as had been explained by mr. bell, it was necessary for them to reach steer wells by sundown, as they could not hope to encounter any more water holes till they gained that point. in the meantime, water was carried by means of an ingenious arrangement of mr. bell's. this was nothing more or less than two large bags of water-proof fabric, which could be filled and then flung on the pack burros' backs. in this way enough was carried for each of the animals to have a scanty supply, although there was none too much left over. that day's luncheon halt was made near a stony, arid canyon in the barren hills, along whose bases they were still traveling. while the others set about getting a meal, peggy and jess linked arms and wandered off a short distance from the camp, bent on exploring. all at once peggy gave a sudden, sharp little cry. "oh, jess, look! what a funny little creature!" "ugh, what a horrid looking thing! what can it be?" exclaimed jimsy's sister. "it's--it's like a large spider!" cried peggy suddenly, "and what horrid hairy legs it has, and--oh, jess--it's going to attack us!" "i do believe it is o-o-o-h!" the cry was a long drawn out one of shrill alarm as the "large spider," as peggy had termed it, tucked its legs under its fat, hairy body and made a deliberate spring at the two girls. only their agility in leaping backward saved them from being landed upon by it. but far from being dismayed apparently, the creature was merely enraged by this failure. it was gathering itself for another spring when: crack! there was a puff of smoke and a vicious report from peggy's little revolver, and the next instant the thing that had so alarmed the two young girls lay still. at the same moment the rest of the party, frightened by the sound of the sudden shot, came running up. "a tarantula!" cried mr. bell, "and one of the biggest i have ever seen. it is fortunate for you, young ladies, that he did not bite you or there might have been a different tale to tell. which of you shot it?" "oh, peggy of course," cheerfully admitted jess; "i can't pull the trigger yet without shutting my eyes." "hurrah for peggy prescott, america's premier girl rifle and revolver shot!" shouted jimsy in blatant imitation of a show man. "what a pair of fangs!" cried roy, who had picked up the dead tarantula and was examining it carefully. the girls could not repress a shudder as they looked at the dead giant spider, lying with its great legs outstretched, on roy's hand. "the mexicans have a superstition that even if one does not die from the effects of their bites that the tarantula can inoculate a person with dancing poison," said mr. bell. "dancing poison?" they all cried in an astonished chorus. "yes," explained the mining man, "that is to say, that its poison will cause a sort of st. vitus's dance." "good gracious! how unpleasant!" cried jess. "i'm awfully fond of dancing, but i wouldn't care to come by my fun that way." "better than being bitten by the kissing bug anyhow," teased roy mischievously. the episode of the tarantula furnished plenty of conversation through the luncheon hour, and caused miss prescott many shudders. the poor lady was beginning to think that more dangers lurked in the desert than on any of her most dreaded street crossings in new york. but little time was spent over the midday meal, and then the final "leg" of their dash across the alkali to steer wells began. the sun was low, bathing the desert in a crimson glow, when mr. bell, who was riding in advance, gave a sudden shout and pointed ahead to a patch of forlorn looking trees in the distance. "steer wells," he announced. the boys gave a cheer and plunged forward, with peggy and jess close behind. but the others advanced more sedately. but as they drew closer to the clump of trees standing so oddly isolated amid the waste of alkali, they noted with surprise that they were not to be the only persons to share the hospitality of the oasis. from amid the foliage a column of blue smoke was rising, betokening the presence of other wayfarers. instantly speculation became rife among the young folks. who could be the sharers of their excursion into the untraveled wastes? they were soon to discover. a strange figure stepped from the trees as the ponies, in a cloud of dust, dashed up. it was that of a tall, angular man with a pair of iron-rimmed spectacles perched on a protuberant nose. he was clean shaven, except for a goatee, and his wrinkled skin was the color of old leather. long locks of gray hair hung lankly almost to his narrow, sloping shoulders. above these straggly wisps was perched jauntily a big sombrero of regulation plainsman type. but the strangest feature of this strange personage lay in the remainder of his attire, which consisted of a long black frock coat hanging baggily to his knees and a pair of trousers of the largest and most aggressive check pattern imaginable. his feet were encased in patent leather boots, over which were gaiters of a brilliant yellow. under the trees could now be seen a small wagon painted a bright red, which bore upon its sides the inscription: "professor wandering william, indian herb remedies. they make the desert of life to bloom like the rose gardens of mount hybla. cents per bottle or half a dozen for $ . ." the professor's angular mule team were browsing on the scanty grass that grew within the circle of trees, while above a fire of chips and twigs there hung an iron pot, which evidently contained the professor's supper. as for the professor himself, he clearly stood revealed in the person of the strange character who now, taking off his sombrero, waved it three times around his head in solemn rhythm, and then, raising a high pitched voice, shouted: "welcome! thrice welcome to this fertile spot amid the stony desert. like the great indian herb remedy, it blooms like the rose gardens of hybla. ahem!" the conclusion of this speech was a dry cough, after which the professor solemnly readjusted his hat, and coming forward, said in quite ordinary tones: "howdy-do." by this time the remainder of the party had galloped up, and arrived just as the young folks, hardly knowing what to say, had responded "howdy-do" likewise. "i hardly expected to find anyone else here," said mr. bell, and then by way of introduction, he rattled off their names, the professor bowing low as each was presented. "and now," said he, "allow me to present myself, professor wandering william, proprietor and originator of the great indian herb medicine, good alike for man or beast, child or adult. insist on the original and only. allow me," and the speaker suddenly whisked round with unexpected agility and darting toward his wagon opened the back of the vehicle and presently reappeared with several small bottles. he handed one to each of the new arrivals. "samples!" he explained, "and free as the birds of the air. if you like the samples, make a purchase. money back if not exactly as represented." with as grave faces as they could assume, they all thanked this queer character, and then mr. bell asked. "may i inquire what you are doing in the desert, professor. i should think you would find this part of the country a most unprofitable field." "my dear sir," rejoined the professor, "twice a year i make a pilgrimage into the desert to gather the ingredients of the remedy. you behold me now almost at the conclusion of my labors. in a few days i shall return to the haunts of civilization and gladden the hearts of mankind by disbursing the remedy on my terms as quoted on the wagon yonder." the professor lent a hand in unsaddling and unpacking the stock of the adventurers, and proved to be of great assistance in several ways. evidently he was an experienced plainsman and he suggested many ways in which their equipment might be lightened and adjusted. his odd manner of talking only possessed him at intervals, and at other times he seemed to converse like any rational being. this put a queer idea into peggy's head. "i wonder if he's acting a part?" she thought to herself. but the next minute the professor's exaggerated gestures and tones convinced her to the contrary. although his manner was as outlandish as his choice of clothes, still there was a certain something about it which negatived the idea of its being assumed, unless the professor was a most consummate actor. he informed the party that he had set out to cut across the desert from california and had had several narrow escapes from death by reason of lack of water. i le appeared much interested when mr. bell in formed him that the party had started out from blue creek, adding--as he deemed wisest-- that they were a party of tenderfeet anxious to explore the desert at first hand. "so you were in blue creek recently, eh?" he said, with an entire lack of his exaggerated manner, but in crisp tones that fairly snapped; "didn't hear anything there of red bill summers, did you?" with a half smile mr. bell replied that they had not had the pleasure of the gentleman's acquaintance. "don't know about the pleasure part of it," shot out the professor, "he's the most desperate crook this side of pikes peak. i'd give a good deal for a look at him myself. i--i have a professional interest in him," he added, with a queer smile which set his eyes to snapping and crackling. "a medical interest, i suppose?" inquired mr. bell, "you think he'd make an interesting study?" "most interesting," was the reply in quiet, thoughtful tones. but the next instant the professor was back at his old pompous, high-flown verbal gymnastics, and after supper he entertained them till bedtime with tales of his experiences, to which both boys and girls listened with wide-eyed astonishment. "the oddest character i have ever encountered," declared mr. bell, as the professor, after bowing low to the ladies and apostrophizing the male portion of his audience, retired to his red wagon, within which he slept. they all agreed to this, but peggy said rather timidly: "somehow i don't think he's quite as odd as we think him." "what do you mean, my dear?" asked mr. bell. "why, when he spoke about that red billy whatever his name was, did you see how different he looked? younger somehow, and--and oh, quite different. i don't know just how, but he wasn't the same at all." "oh, peggy's trying to work up a romantic mystery about the professor," teased jess; "maybe he's a wandering british lord in disguise or the interesting but wayward son of a millionaire with a hobby for socialism." the others burst into laughter at jess's raillery, but miss prescott gently said: "there is a great deal in womanly intuition, my dear, and for my part i had the same feeling as you. i mean that that man was not just what he appeared to be, namely, a chattering, ignorant quack." "well, as we may have him for a neighbor for some days we shall have a chance to watch him closely," said mr. bell. but in this the leader of the party of adventurers turned out to be wrong, for when they awoke the next morning the grove did not contain the professor or his red wagon. only the ashes of his fire were there to tell of his sojourn. but on one of the trees they found pinned a note. "sorry to leave so abruptly, but circumstances compelled. perhaps we shall meet again. who knows!" and that, for many days, was to be the last they saw of the professor. when they re-encountered him--but of the surprising circumstances under which this was to take place we shall learn later. chapter viii a desert fight there was too much before them for the party to spend much time in speculation concerning the professor's sudden disappearance. immediately after breakfast mr. bell called the boys aside and said: "how long will it take to get an aeroplane ready?" the question came briskly, as did all mr. bell's speeches. "i think i can promise to have a machine ready for flight by noon," was roy's rejoinder after a brief interval of thought. "good! in that case we will waste no time in getting to work. i am anxious to reach the mine and stake it out properly for claim filing purposes. the less delay the better." it was news to both boys that the definite legal claim to his discovery had not yet been made by mr. bell. "well, at any rate you are not likely to be bothered by claim jumpers away off here," commented roy. "no, i hardly think so," was the response, "but in these matters one cannot be too careful. since the news spread that i have struck it rich there are men capable of enduring any hardship if there exists a possibility of wresting it from me." "i should have thought that in order to be on the safe side you would have filed your claim before you came east," put in peggy, who had joined the little group of consultants. "i would have done so were it not for the fact that to have filed my claim and given the location would have set on my track the entire, restless gold-seeking horde that hangs about desert towns," said mr. bell, with some warmth. "it is an outrageous thing, but nevertheless a fact, that the moment one files a claim it becomes public property. in my opinion the government should protect the locator of a gold find." "but would that be quite fair to the others," said peggy softly. "shouldn't everybody have an opportunity to develop natural resources?" mr. bell gazed at her admiringly. "you are right, my dear, and i'm a selfish old bear," he said, "but just the same, not all gold-seekers make desirable neighbors. many desperate men are among them." peggy's mind wandered back to that midnight conversation she had overheard on the porch of the national house. but the same dread of ridicule that she had experienced then still held her, and she refrained from mentioning it. by noon, with such good will did they work, that not only was one of the monoplanes erected and ready for flight, but a second was partially assembled, and only required the finishing touches to be in readiness for its aerial dash. while the boys, with the girls eagerly helping them, worked on the flying machine, mr. bell carefully studied a map he had made of the mine's location, and tested his compass. this done he--as sailors say--"laid out a course" for himself. from the springs the mine lay about due southeast and some hundred and twenty miles away. in case of accidents the mining man traced carefully a second map, which was to be left behind in the camp so as to be constantly available in case anything happened to the first one, it had been decided that jimsy, who by this time had become quite a skillful aviator, was to accompany mr. bell in the preliminary flight. roy and mr. peter bell were to be left in charge of the camp, and in the event of the first aeroplane not returning that night the second, one was to be dispatched in search of it. as an old plainsman, mr. bell had not laid his plans without taking into consideration the possibility of accident to the aeroplane, and none realized better than he did what serious consequences such an accident might have. in the chassis of the machine with the travelers were placed a stock of canned goods, a pick and shovel and several hundred feet of fine but tough rope. a supply of water in stone jars and an extra stock of gasoline were also taken along. at the conclusion of the noon meal the motor was started and found to be working perfectly. nothing then remained to be done but to bid hasty "au revoirs" and wing off across the barren wastes. "if all goes well we may be back to-night," said mr. bell as he slipped into the seat set tandem-wise behind jimsy. "and if not?" inquired roy. "in that case," and mr. bell's voice held a grave note, "in that case you will take the other monoplane and start out to look for us." the roar of the motor as jimsy started it drowned further words. blue smoke and livid flames burst from the exhausts. the structure of the flying machine shook and quivered under the force of the explosions. the next instant the first aeroplane to invade the big alkali scudded off across the level floor of the desert, and after some five hundred feet of land travel soared upward. in fifteen minutes it was a fast diminishing speck against the burnished blue of the nevada sky. there was some feeling of loneliness in the hearts of those left behind as they turned back toward the camp under the straggly willows. but this was speedily dissipated by that sovereign tonic for such feelings-namely, work. much was to be done on the remaining monoplane, and with the exception of brief intervals of "fooling" the young people spent the rest of the day on finishing its equipment. sunset found the machine ready for flight and the girl aviators and roy very ready indeed for the supper to which peter bell presently summoned them by loud and insistent beating on a tin pan. you may be sure that as the sun dipped lower, the sky toward the southwest had been frequently swept by expectant eyes, but supper was served and eaten, and the purple shadows of night began softly to drape the glaring desert and still there came no sign of the homing aeroplane. "reckon they don't want to risk a night flight and so have decided to camp at the mine," suggested old peter bell in response to miss prescott's rather querulous wondering as to the reason of the non-return. "that must be it," agreed roy easily, demolishing the last of a can of chicken. truth to tell, inwardly he had not expected the travelers back that night, and perhaps there lingered, too, in his mind, a faint desire to test out the other aeroplane in a task of rescue, in the event of the one jimsy was driving breaking down. but when morning came without a sign of the missing monoplane speculation crystallized into a real and keen anxiety. it was determined to delay no longer but set out at once in search of it. to this end the recently equipped airship was stocked with food and water, and shortly before noon roy finished the final tuning up of the engine. the others watched him anxiously as he worked. it seemed clear enough that some real accident must have occurred to the other machine. "james would never keep us in suspense like this," said mr. bell, "if he could reach us and relieve our anxiety." roy was just about to clamber into the chassis when peggy and jess, who had been missing for several minutes, emerged from their tent. each girl wore an aviation hood and stout leather gauntlets. plainly they were dressed for aerial flight. roy gazed at them quizzically. "i hate to disappoint you girls," he said, "but i've got to play a lone hand in this thing." "no such thing," said peggy in her briskest tones; "what if anything happened to you? who would run the machine if we weren't along?" "that's quite true, roy," struck in jess, "and besides if--if anything has gone wrong with jimsy who has a better right to be near him than i?" roy looked perplexed. "what am i to do, aunt sally?" he appealed, turning to miss prescott. to peggy's astonishment, as much as anyone else's, miss prescott did not veto their going. "i think it would be great folly for you to go on an expedition of this kind alone," she said, addressing roy. "as peggy says, if anything went wrong what could you do alone?" "oh, aunt, you're a dear!" cried peggy, giving the kindly old lady a bear hug. "but i make one condition," continued miss prescott, "and that is, that whatever you find, you do not delay, but report back here as soon as possible. i could not bear much more anxiety." this was readily promised, and ten minutes later the three young aviators were in the chassis of the big monoplane. after a moment's fiddling with levers and adjustments roy started the motor. heavily laden as it was the staunch aeroplane shot upward steadily after a short run. as it grew rapidly smaller, and finally became a mere black shoe button in the distance, miss prescott turned to old peter bell with a sigh. "heaven grant they all come back safe and sound," she exclaimed. "amen to that, ma'am," was the response, and then unconsciously lapsing into his rhythmical way of expressing himself, the old man added: "though flying through the air so high they'll come back safely by and by." and then, while old peter shuffled off to water the stock, miss prescott fell to continuing her fancy work which the good lady had brought with her from the fast. an odd picture she made, sitting there in that dreary grove in the desert, with her new england suggestion of primness and house-wifely qualities showing in striking contrast to the strange setting of the rest of the picture. chapter ix against heavy odds "any sign of them yet, roy?" peggy leaned forward and gently touched her brother's arm. "i can't see a solitary speck that even remotely resembles them," he said. "it looks bad," he added with considerable anxiety in his tones. peggy took a peep at the plan which was spread out before roy on a little shelf designed to hold aerial charts. then she glanced at the compass and the distance indicator. "we must be close to the place now," she said; "it's somewhere off there, isn't it?" "there" was a range of low hills cut and slashed by steep-walled gullies and canyons. in some of these canyons there appeared to be traces of vegetation, giving rise to the suspicion that water might be obtained there by digging. roy nodded. "that's the place, and there's that high cone shaped hill that the plan indicates as the location of the mine." "but there's not a trace of them-oh, jimsy!" jess's tones were vibrant with cruel anxiety. her face was pale and troubled. as for peggy, her heart began to beat uncomfortably fast. but she wisely gave no outer sign. "don't worry, girlie," she said in as cheerful and brisk a tone as she could call up on the spur of the moment, "it will be all right. i'm sure of it." circling high above the range of barren hills they took a thorough survey of them. there was no sign of the missing aeroplane or her occupants, but all at once beneath them they saw something that caused them all to utter an astonished shout. in one of the shallower gullies there was suddenly revealed the forms of an immense pack of animals of a gray color and not unlike dogs. "wolves!" cried peggy. "no, they are coyotes," declared roy; "i recollect now hearing mr. bell say that these hills were frequented by them." while they still hovered above the strange sight, a sudden swing brought another angle of the gully into view, and there, hidden hitherto by a huge rock, was the missing aeroplane. but of its occupants there was not a trace. "we must descend at once," decided roy. "but, roy, the coyotes!" it was jess who spoke. the sight of the immense pack of the brutes thoroughly unnerved her. as they swung lower, too, they could hear the yappings and howlings of the savage band. "i don't think they will bother us," said roy. "i've heard mr. bell say that they are cowardly creatures." "if they do we'll have to fly up again," said peggy; "but we simply must examine that aeroplane for some clue of the others' whereabouts. besides we have our revolvers." "and can use them, too," said roy with decision. "now look out and hold tight, for i'm going to make a quick drop." the gully seemed to rush upward at the aeroplane as it swooped down, coming to rest finally, almost alongside its companion machine. luckily, the big rock before mentioned concealed the new arrivals from the view of the pack gathered further up the gully. no time was lost in alighting and examining the machine, but beyond the fact that none of the food or water had been disturbed there was no clue there. another puzzling fact was that the rifles mr. bell and jimsy had brought with them still lay in the chassis. this seemed to dispose of the theory that they had been attacked. but what could have become of them? was it possible that the coyotes--? roy gave an involuntary shiver as a thought he did not dare allow himself to retain flashed across his mind. and yet it was odd the presence of that numerous pack all steadily centered about one spot. "i'm going to try firing a shot into the air," said roy suddenly; "if they are in the vicinity they will hear it and answer if they can." "oh, yes, do that, roy," begged jess. "oh, i'm almost crazy with worry! what can have happened?" the sharp bark of roy's pistol cut short her half hysterical outbreak. following the report they listened intently and then: "hark!" exclaimed peggy, her eyes round and her pulses beating wildly. "wasn't that a shout? listen, there it is again!" "i heard it that time, too," exclaimed roy. "and i!" cried jess. "it came from down the canyon where those coyotes are," went on peggy. "that's right, sis, and it complicates our search," said roy, "but we've got to go on now. you girls wait here for me while i investigate, and--and you'd better take those rifles out of the other aeroplane." "oh, roy, you're not going alone?" peggy appealed. "i'm not going to let you girls take a chance till i see what's ahead, that's one sure thing," was the rejoinder. before another word could be said the boy, revolver in hand, vanished round the big rock. hardly had he done so, when there was borne to the girls' ears the most appalling confusion of sounds they had ever heard. the bedlam was, punctuated by several sharp shots, and roy appeared running from round the rock. his hat was off, and as he approached he shouted: "get back to the aeroplanes! the pack's after us!" at the same instant there appeared the leaders of the onrush. great, half-famished looking brutes, whose red mouths gaped open ferociously and whose eyes burned wickedly. but roy had hardly had time to shout his warning before an accident, entirely unexpected, occurred. his foot caught on a stone and he came down with a crash. the next moment the pack would have been upon him, but peggy jerked the rifle she had selected to her shoulder and fired into the midst of the savage horde. with a howl of anguish one of the creatures leaped high in a death agony and came toppling down among his mates, a limp, inanimate mass. this checked the surging onrush for an instant, and in that instant roy was on his feet and sprinting briskly toward the girls. straight for the aeroplanes they headed. reaching them they entrenched themselves in what they could not but feel was an immensely insecure position. "thank you, sis," was all that roy, with a bit of a choke in his voice, was able to gasp out before the leaders of the pack were on them. more by instinct than with any definite idea, the young people began desperately pumping lead into the seething confusion of gray backs and red gaping mouths. all at once poor jess, half beside herself with terror, gave a throaty little gasp. "i think i'm going to faint," she exclaimed feebly. peggy gave her a sharp glance. "you'll do no such thing, jess bancroft," she said sharply, although the pity in her eyes belied the harshness of the words, "if you do i'll--i'll never speak to you again!" the words had their calculated effect, and jess made a brave rally. at almost the same instant a shot from roy's rifle brought down the largest of the creatures of the desert, a big hungry looking brute with tawny, scraggy hair and bristling hackles. as he rolled over with a howl of anguish and rage a sudden wavering passed through the pack. it was like a wind-shadow sweeping over a field of summer wheat. "hooray, we've got them beaten!" shouted roy, enthusiastically. the lad was right. their leader fallen, the remainder of the pack had seemingly no liking for keeping up the attack. still snarling they began to retreat slowly--a backward movement, which presently changed into a mad, helter skelter rush. panic seized on them, and down the dry arroyo they fled, a dense cloud of yellow, pungent dust rising behind them. in a few seconds all that remained to tell of the battle in the gulch were the still bodies of the brutes that had fallen before the boy and girl aviators' rifles. they were contemplating the scene when, from further up the gully, there came a sound that set all their pulses beating. it was the shout of a human voice. "thank heaven you were not too late!" while they were still standing stock still in startled immobility at the recognition of mr. bell's voice, there came another hail. "hello, jess! hello, peggy and roy!" emerging from the cloud of dust which was still thick, there staggered toward them two uncanny looking figures in which they had at first some difficulty in recognizing mr. bell and jimsy bancroft. but when they did what a shout went up! it echoed about the dead hills and rang hollowly in the silent gully. an instant later the reunited adventurers were busily engaged in exchanging greetings of which my readers can guess the tenor. then came explanations. "on arriving in the arroyo," said mr. bell, "jimsy and i decided to set out at once to examine the mine site, and lay if off for purposes of proper location with the united states government. i must tell you that the mine--or rather the site of it--is located in that cavern yonder further up the arroyo." "why it was round the entrance to that that the coyotes were gathered when we first dropped!" cried peggy. "exactly. and very much to our discomfort, too, i can tell you," rejoined mr. bell dryly. "they had you besieged!" exclaimed roy. "that's just it, my boy. they must have been famished, or they never would have gathered up the courage to do it, for, as a rule, one man can put a whole pack of the brutes to flight. i suppose, however, they realized that they had us cornered, for, with a sort of deadly deliberation, they seated themselves round the mouth of the cavern, seemingly awaiting the proper time for us to be starved out or driven forth by thirst. luckily, however, we had canteens with us and a scanty supply of food, otherwise it might have been the last of us." jess shuddered and drew very close to jimsy. "and you had no weapons," volunteered roy. "ah, i see you encountered our guns in the chassis of the aeroplane. no, foolishly, i'll admit, we omitted to arm ourselves for such a short excursion. of course we never dreamed of any danger of that sort in this lonely place, and least of all from the source from which it came. but i can, tell you, it was an ugly feeling when, on preparing to emerge with some specimens of the ore-bearing rocks, we found ourselves facing a grim semi-circle, banked dozens deep, of those famished coyotes. they greeted our appearance with a howl, and when we tried to scare them off they just settled down on their haunches to wait." "their silence was worse than their yapping and barking, i think," struck in jimsy. "it certainly was," agreed mr. bell; "both of us tried to keep up good hearts, but when the night passed and morning still found the brutes there, things began to look bad. of course we knew that you would set out to look for us when we did not return, but we did not know if you would reach here in time." "but you did," cried jimsy, regarding the dead bodies of coyotes the vanquished pack had left behind. "and excellent work your rifles did, too," declared mr. bell warmly. "our rifles and--the girl aviators," said roy, and proceeded to tell the interested listeners from the cavern some incidents which caused them to open their eyes and regard our girls with unconcealed admiration. chapter x rescued by aeroplane "what's that down there?" roy pointed downward from the aeroplane to a small black object crawling painfully over the glistening white billows of alkali far below them. the lad, his sister and jess were on their way back from the arroyo in which the battle with the coyotes had occurred. mr. bell and jimsy had been left behind, for the former was anxious to "prospect" his mine as thoroughly as possible in order to ascertain if it gave indications of living up to its first rich promise. a brief inspection of the cave had thoroughly disgusted peggy and jess. "is this a rich gold mine!" jess had cried, indignantly regarding the dull walls on which the torches had glowed unflatteringly; "it looks more like the interior of the cellar at home." "all is not gold that glitters," mr. bell had responded with a smile. at the same moment he had flaked off a chunk of dark colored metal with his knife. "there, miss jess," he exclaimed, handing it to the girl, "that is almost pure gold, and i am in hopes that there is lots more where that came from." and they had been kind enough not to laugh too immoderately at jess's discomfiture. a short time later, having located a water hole and partaken of a good lunch, roy and his companions had re-embarked and started back to camp with the joyful tidings that the missing adventurers had been found. they had been under way but a short time when roy's attention had been attracted by the moving dot which had caused him to utter the exclamation recorded at the beginning of this chapter. against the flat, baking, quivering expanse of alkali the crawling splotch of black showed up as plainly as a blot of ink on a sheet of clean white blotting paper. peering over the edge of the chassis they all scrutinized it closely. "it's--it's a man!" cried jess at length. "so it is!" declared peggy, "and on foot. what can he be doing out in this desert country without a horse?" "he's in trouble anyhow," declared roy, excitedly. "see, he's staggering along so painfully that it looks as if he couldn't go a step further. i'm going to drop and find out what the trouble is." as he spoke the boy threw in the descending clutch, and the big monoplane began to drop as swiftly as a buzzard that has espied some prey far beneath him. as they rushed downward the whirr of their descent seemed to arouse the being so painfully crawling over the hot waste beneath them. he looked up, and then, extending his hands upward in a gesture of bewilderment, he staggered forward and the next instant stretched his length on the alkali, falling face downward. "oh, he is dead!" shrilled jess, clasping her hands. "i don't think so," was roy's grave reply, "but we must get to him as quickly as we can." there was no need to tell peggy to get the water canteen ready. her busy little, fingers were fumbling with it. as they touched the ground she leaped nimbly from the chassis and sped over the burning desert floor to the side of the recumbent wayfarer. a second later roy and jess joined her. very tenderly they turned the insensible man upon his back and dashed the water upon his face. he was a short, rather stockily built man of middle age, and obviously, from his mahogany colored skin and lank black hair, a mexican. he was dressed in a tattered shirt with a serape thrown about the neck to keep off the blazing rays of the sun. his feet were encased in a kind of moccasins over which spurs were strapped. evidently, then, he had been mounted at some time--presumably recently, but where was his horse? how did he come to be wandering under the maddening heat of the sun over the vast alkali waste. but these were questions the answers to which had to be deferred for the present, for it began to appear doubtful if they had arrived in time to fan the wanderer's vital spark back into flame. but at length their ministrations met with their reward. the man's eyelids flickered and a deep sigh escaped his lips. before long they could press the water canteen to his mouth. he seized it with avidity and would have drained it. "only a little," cried peggy; "i read once how a man, dying of thirst, was killed outright when he was given too much water to drink." so roy wrenched the canteen from the prostrated man's feeble grasp before he had drained more than a mouthful or two. but even that had revived him, and he was able to sit up and gaze about bewilderedly. all at once his eyes rested on peggy, and he seemed to regard her as the means of his salvation from a terrible death on the alkali. kneeling down he cried out in a pitifully cracked voice: "you missie angel from heaven. me alverado your servant always. no go away ever!" "by ginger, peggy, you've made a conquest!" cried roy, half hysterically. now that the strain of the struggle between life and death was over peggy flushed and looked embarrassed. she was not used to the exaggerated character of the mexican. but if she feared another outburst it did not come. far too much exhausted to say more, alverado--as he called himself--sank back once more on the alkali. "quick! carry him to the aeroplane and get him into camp," cried roy, raising the half-conscious mexican's head. "you girls take his feet and we'll put him in the bottom of the chassis on those cushions." consequently, when the aeroplane once more took the air it was to fly lower than usual under its additional burden, but in the hearts of all three of its american occupants there rang the joy of having saved a human life from the unsparing alkali. "aunt sally! aunt sally! everything's all right and we've got a patient for you," was peggy's rather uncomplimentary greeting as the aeroplane alighted and came spinning across the dusty expanse toward the willow clump. miss prescott threw up her hands and old mr. peter bell hastened from amidst his beloved horses. "everything's all right but you've got a patient!" cried the new england lady, who looked very prim and unwesternlike in a gingham gown and sun bonnet to match. "no time for explanations now," cried roy. "come on, mr. bell, and help us get our sick man out and then we'll tell you all about how we found jimsy and mr. bell at the mine." with mr. bell's assistance it did not take long to transfer alverado from the aeroplane to a cot, and miss prescott, who, as roy said, would "rather nurse than eat," ministered to him to such good effect that by nightfall he was able to sit up and tell his story. in the meantime the excited youngsters had related their narratives, which miss prescott interrupted in a dozen places by: "land's sakes!" "good gracious me!" "oh, what a dreadful country!" and much more to the same effect. all the time he was relating his story alverado kept his eyes fixed on peggy's face, with much the same expression as that worn by a faithful spaniel. at first this fixed gaze annoyed the young girl not a little, but soon she realized that it was entirely respectful and meant as a tribute, for the mexican evidently regarded her as his rescuer in chief. alverado's story proved vague and sketchy, but he could not be induced to enlarge upon it. in brief his tale was that some years before, when crossing the desert on his way from a mine he owned, he had been attacked by a band of highwaymen. they had wrecked his wagon and murdered his family, who were traveling with him. they had attacked him because of their impression that he was carrying much gold with him, whereas, in reality, he had secured nothing but a living from his desert mine. in their rage at being thwarted, the miscreants had wiped out the mexican's family and left him for dead with a wound in his skull. but a wandering band of nevada indians had happened along while the mexican still lay unconscious and, reviving him, carried him with them over the border into california. he had parted from them soon after and drifted down into mexico. in time he accumulated a small fortune, but the thought of the wrong he had suffered never left his heart. at last his affairs reached a stage where he felt justified in returning to nevada to try to find some trace of his wrongers, and demand justice. he had set out well equipped, but, a few days before the young aviators encountered him, his water burro had stumbled and fallen, and in the fall had broken the water kegs it carried. from that time on his trip across the alkali had been a nightmare. first his pony had died, and then his two remaining pack burros. he had obtained a scanty supply of thirst quenching stuff from the pulpy insides of cactus and maguey leaves, but when the aviators had discovered him he had been in the last stages of death from thirst and exhaustion--the death that so many men on the alkali have met alone and bravely. "do you know the name of the men who attacked you and treated you so cruelly?" asked peggy, breaking the tense silence which followed the conclusion of the mexican's dramatic narrative. a dark look crossed the man's swarthy features. "one name onlee i know, mees," he said, with a snarl which somehow reminded peggy of the coyotes of the arroyo. "and his name was?" "red beel soomers!" "'red bill summers!" they all echoed, except miss prescott and old mr. peter bell, the latter of whom had fallen into a reverie. as if they had been emblazoned in electric lights, the words of professor wandering william flashed across peggy's brain. "the most desperate ruffian on the nevada desert." and at the same time, with one of those quick, flashes of intuition which growing girls share with grown women, peggy sensed a vague connection between that sinister conversation she had overheard on her wakeful night at the national house and the dreaded red bill. chapter xi the horse hunters bright and early the next day the aeroplane whizzed back to the arroyo, carrying a fresh supply of food and water, for mr. bell had decided to investigate his "prospect" thoroughly while he had an opportunity. to his mind, he had declared, the lead, or pay streak, ran back far into the base of the barren hills, and might yield almost untold of riches if worked properly. among the supplies carried by the aeroplane, therefore, was a stock of dynamite from the red painted box. in the meantime alverado had to be accepted perforce as a member of the party. in the first place, he showed no disposition to leave, and in the second, even had he done so, there was no horse or burro that could be spared for him to ride. when mr. bell heard of the new addition to the camp he was at first not best pleased. every additional mouth meant an extra strain on their supplies, but he surrendered to the inevitable, and finally remarked: "oh, well, i guess he'll be useful enough about the place. anyhow, if we need him we can put him to work in the mine." peggy and jess had accompanied roy over in the aeroplane to the mine, but mr. bell insisted on their returning. "this is not work for women or girls," he said, much to peggy's inward disgust. jess, with her daintier ideas, however, was nothing averse to the thought of getting back to the creature comforts of the permanent camp in the willows. "but who's going to get you back, i'd like to know," exclaimed mr. bell, shoving back his sombrero and scratching his head perplexedly; "it's important, for reasons you know of, that i should prospect this claim so that i can record it to the limit, and to do that i'll need roy. maybe after all, you'd better stay." peggy's eyes danced delightedly, but jess spoiled it all by saying: why, peggy can run the aeroplane better than either roy or jimsy, mr. bell." "o-h-h! jess!" shouted roy derisively. "well, she can, and you know it, too," declared jess loyally. "why that's so, isn't it?" cried mr. bell, glad of this way out of his difficulty. after that there was nothing for peggy to do but to give in gracefully. the two girls were ready to start back when mr. bell reached into his pocket and drew forth a bit of carefully folded paper. "i'll entrust this to you," he said to peggy; "it's for my brother. it's a correct description of the mine's location so far as we have explored it. the plan is a duplicate one, and i'll feel safer if i know that, beside the original, my brother has a copy. in the event of one being lost a lot of work would be saved." soon after this, adieus were said, and the aeroplane soared high into the clear, burning air above the desolate ridges. under peggy's skillful hands the plane fairly flew. at the pace they proceeded it was not long before the willows, a dark clump amid the surrounding ocean of glittering waste, came into view. a veteran of the air could not have made a more accurate or an easier landing that did peggy. the big machine glided to the ground as softly as a feather, just at the edge of the patch of shade and verdure which made up steer wells. that afternoon, after the midday meal, a cloud of dust to the southward excited everybody's attention. after scanning the oncoming pillar closely alverado announced that it was caused by a party of horsemen, and it soon became evident that the willow clump was their destination. "oh, mercy, i do hope they aren't indians and we shall all be murdered in our beds!" cried miss prescott in considerable alarm. the good lady clasped her hands together distractedly. "we might be murdered in our hammocks, aunt," observed peggy, indicating two gaudy specimens of the hanging lounges which had been suspended under the shade; "but only very lazy people could be murdered in bed at two o'clock in the afternoon." "you know perfectly well what i mean," miss prescott began with dignity, when alverado, who, like the rest, had been watching the advancing cavalcade eagerly, suddenly announced: "they vaqueros--cowboys!" "cowboys!" shrilled miss prescott. "that's worse. oh, dear, i wish i'd never come to the land of the cowboys!" "you speak as if they were some sort of animal, aunt," laughed peggy. "i daresay there is no reason to be alarmed at them. i've always heard that they were very courteous and deferential to ladies." "what would cowboys be doing away out here where there isn't a cow or a calf or even an old mule in sight?" inquired jess. "maybe on wild horse hunt," rejoined alverado with a shrug. "are there wild horses hereabouts then?" asked old mr. bell, and then quite absent-mindedly he began murmuring: "masseppa, masseppa tied to a wild horse; in the way of revenge, as a matter of course." "plentee wild horse," was the mexican's rejoinder. "they cross the desert sometimes to get fresh range. cowboy trail them and cut them off and lasso them. then they break them to ride." "oh, what a shame!" cried peggy, impulsively. "no shame go-od," declared the mexican stolidly; "bye an' bye wild horse all gone. good." "i think it's hateful," declared jess; "just the same i should like to see a wild horse hunt," she added with girlish inconsistence. "so should i if they'd let them all go again," agreed peggy. old mr. bell laughed, for which he was gently reproved by miss prescott. "i shall bring this matter to the attention of the society for the prevention of cruelty to animals back home," she said somewhat snappishly. but there was no opportunity to exchange more remarks on the subject. uttering a shrill series of "ye-o-o-ows" the riders bore down on the little desert camp. from the heaving sides of the ponies, plastered with the gray alkali of the desert, clouds of steam were rising. their riders, with mouths screened from the biting dust with red handkerchiefs, were seemingly engaged in a race for the willow clump where water and shade awaited them. "yip-yip-y-e-e-e-e-e-e!" the sound came raucously from behind a dozen bandaged mouths as the band swept down oil tile camp. and then suddenly: bang! bang! bang! a volley of revolver shots resounded as the jubilant horse hunters-- as alverado had shrewdly suspected they were--dashed forward. "oh, land of goshen!" screamed miss prescott, as, with her fingers in her ears, she fled into her tent and pulled the flap to. peggy and jess stood their ground boldly enough, although jess's face turned rather pale and her breath heaved in perturbation. "keep still, honey, they won't hurt you," comforted peggy amid the uproar. suddenly the leader of the horsemen drew his pony up abruptly, throwing the cat-like little beast almost back upon his haunches. "boys! ladies!" he shouted. instantly every sombrero came off and was swept round each rider's head in a broad circle. it was a pretty bit of homage and the girls bowed in acknowledgment of it. "hooray!" yelled the horsemen as they flung themselves from their steaming but still active little mounts. "they're not so bad after all," breathed jess, still, however, clinging to peggy's shirt-waisted arm. but the leader, hat in hand, was now advancing toward the two girls. the others hung back looking rather sheepish. they were not in the habit of meeting ladies, and to encounter two young and pretty girls in the midst of the alkali was evidently a shock to them. the leader was a stalwart figure of a man, who might have stepped from the advertising matter of a wild west show. leather chaparejos encased his long legs. round his throat was loosely knotted the red handkerchief which they all wore when riding to protect their mouths and nostrils from the dust. his shirt was once blue, but it was so covered with the gray of the alkali that it was difficult to tell what color it might have been originally. for the rest he wore a big sombrero, the leather band of which was spangled with stars worked in silver wire, and a pair of workmanlike-looking gauntlets covered his hands. "beg pardon, ladies, for makin' sich a rough house," he said hesitating, "but, yer see, ther boys wall we didn't hardly expec' ter fin' ladies present." "i'm sure we enjoyed it very much," rejoined peggy quite at ease and her own cool self now "it was like--er--like buffalo bill--" "only more so," put in jess, with her most bewitching smile. "um--er--quite so," rejoined the plainsman, rather more at ease now; "ye see, we're a party that's out on a horse hunt. we got on ther tracks of the band ther other side of ther san quentin range, and figgering thet they'd cut across here ter git to ther feeding grounds on ther pablo range on t'other side of ther desert we stopped in here fer water an' shade." "my name's bud reynolds," he volunteered tentatively. peggy took the hint conveyed. "and we are part of a scientific exploring party," she said. "college gals, by gee!" breathed bud in what he thought was an inaudible aside. "the party is in charge of mr. james bell. this is his brother, mr. peter bell--" "glad ter meet yer, i'm sure," said bud with a low bow as the poet hermit stepped forward. "i am miss margaret prescott; this is my chum, miss bancroft, and there is my aunt, miss sally prescott--" peggy, with a perfectly grave face, indicated miss prescott's tent, from between the flaps of which that new england lady's spectacled countenance was peering. "come out, auntie," she added. "oh, peggy, is it perfectly safe?" queried miss prescott anxiously. "safe, mum!" exclaimed bud expansively. "if it was any safer you'd hav ter send fer ther perlice. jes becos we're rough and ain't got on full evenin' dress you musn't think we're dangerous, mum," he went on more gravely. "i'll warrant you'll fin' better fellers right here on ther alkali than on fit' avenoo back in new york." "oh, do you come from new york," cried the romantic jess, scenting what she would have called "a dear of a story." "a long time ago i did," rejoined bud slowly. "but come on, boys," he resumed with a return to his old careless manner, "come up an' be interduced." the others, hats in hand, shuffled forward. it was plainly a novel experience for them. "and now," said peggy cheerfully, when the ceremony had been concluded, "you all look dreadfully tired and hot. the water hole's right over there. when you've got off some of that dust we shall have something for you to eat and some coffee." this announcement took the horse hunters by storm. with yips and whoops they dashed off to the water hole, while miss sally and old peter bell began to prepare a hasty meal for the unexpected visitors. chapter xii the water thieves it was an hour or more later when, having inspected the aeroplane and marveled much thereat, the horse hunters arose to take their leave. they would have to press on, they explained, to reach the rendezvous of the wild horses in the san pablo range. these hills lay far to the northeast. bud perspiringly made the farewell speech. "thankin' you one and all," he began, with perhaps a vague recollection of the last circus he had seen, and there he stopped short. "anyhow we thanks you," he said, getting a fresh start and jerking the words out as if they had been shots from a revolver. "it ain't every day we has a pleasure like this here hes bin--" "hooray!" yelled the other horse hunters, who, already mounted, stood behind their leader at the edge of the willows. "an'--an'--wall, ther desert hes dangers uv its own an' if at any time bud reynolds er ther boys kin help yer out send fer them to ther san pablo range and if we're thar we'll be with yer ter ther last bank uv ther last ditch." with a sigh of relief bud flung himself upon his pony and drove the spurs home. amidst a tornado of yells and shouts the rest, waving their sombreros wildly, dashed off after him. in a few moments they were only a cloud of dust on the alkali. "i declare i feel kind of sad now they're gone," said miss sally after an interval of silence. "rough diamonds," opined old mr. bell guardedly. "but they've got warm, big hearts," stoutly declared peggy. "i wishâ��" she stopped abruptly. "wish what, peggy dear?" asked jess, noting the troubled look that had crept over her chum's face. "oh, nothing at all," rejoined peggy. but she was not speaking the whole truth, for the girl had been thinking what a bulwark of strength bud and his followers would have been against the vague menace of red bill. it was late that night--after midnight as well as peggy could judge--that she was awakened by jess bending over her cot in the tent that both girls shared. "o-h-h! peggy, peggy! i'm frightened!" wailed the girl aviator's chum. "frightened? of what dear?" asked peggy wide awake in an instant. "i--i don't just know," quavered jess, "but, oh, peggy, you'll think i'm an awful 'fraid cat, but i'm absolutely certain i heard footsteps, stealthy footsteps outside just now." "nonsense, girlie. it must have been a nightmare," rejoined peggy with sharp assurance. "i might have thought so," went on jess, "but i looked out through the flap of the tent to make sure and i'm certain as that i'm standing here now that i saw some figures on horseback over by the water hole." "perhaps another party of horse hunters," suggested peggy soothingly. "but, peggy dear, they made hardly any noise. that is, the horses i mean. i heard men's footsteps, but after a minute they mounted and rode off, and--oh, it was too ghostly for anything--they made no noise at all." "you mean you couldn't hear any sound of the ponies' hoofs?" asked peggy incredulously. "no, they moved in absolute silence. peggy, you don't think it was anything supernatural, do you?" for answer peggy drew her revolver from under her pillow and tiptoed to the tent flap. it faced the water hole and in the bright white moonlight a clear view of it could be obtained. but after a prolonged scrutiny jess's plucky chum was unable to make out any objects other than the usual ones appertaining to the camp. "imagination, my dear," she said, with positiveness. but jess still shuddered and seemed under the influence of some strange fear. "it was not imagination, peggy. it wasn't it really wasn't." "well, we'll look in the morning and if we find tracks we shall know that you are right, and we'll get the boys back for a while anyhow," reassured peggy. but in the morning it was alverado who came to the tent and in an excited voice asked to see "missee" at once. peggy hastily completed dressing and emerged, leaving jess still asleep. something warned her that it would be best not to arouse her chum just then. "what is it, alverado?" she asked, as the mexican, betraying every mark of agitation, hastened to her side. "santa maria, missee," breathed the mexican, "water almost all gone!" "the water is almost all gone?" quavered peggy, beginning to sense what was coming. "yes, missee. me go there this morning and--madre de dios--the water hole almost empty." "were there any tracks?" inquired peggy anxiously. "plenty tracks, but the man's had the cavallos' feet bundled in sacks so make no noise--leave no tracks." "let me have a look." with alverado at her side peggy hastened toward the water hole. she could hardly repress an exclamation of alarm as she gazed at the hole. bare six inches of muddy water was on the bottom, where the day before there had been a foot or more. all about were vague blotty-looking tracks which showed plainly enough the manner in which the marauders had concealed all noise of their movements. the muffled hoofs would naturally give forth no sound. "so jess was right after all," breathed peggy softly; "but who could have done such a thing? and why?" but the latter question had not framed itself in her mind before it was answered. without water they would not be able to exist at steer wells for twenty-four hours. a retreat would be equally impracticable. it was all horribly clear. the theft of the water was the first step in a deliberate plan to drive them out. the motive, too, was plain enough in the light of the overheard conversation at the national hotel. the men who wanted mr. bell's mine had waited till he had located it before striking their first blow. what would their next be? peggy's pulses throbbed and the grove seemed to blur for an instant. but the next moment she was mistress of herself again. clearly there was only one thing to do. lay the whole matter before mr. bell. "alverado," said peggy quietly, "after breakfast i am going to the range over yonder. you must guard the camp." "yes, missee," replied the mexican; "i take care of him with--with my life."' "i am sure you will," said peggy in her most matter-of-fact tones, "and in the mean time say nothing to anyone else about what you have found. bring up the water for breakfast yourself and don't let mr. bell come near the water hole if you can help it." "it shall be as the senorita wishes," rejoined alverado in low tones; but there was a ring in his voice that told peggy that she could trust the brown-skinned "mestizo" to the utmost. chapter xiii danger threatens somewhat more than two hours later peggy brought her aeroplane to the ground in the arroyo which had been the scene of the battle with the coyotes. the girl could not help giving an involuntary shudder as she thought of the narrow escape they had had on that occasion. but in the light of the other and more serious menace which now hung over them like a storm cloud, the adventure with the wild beasts faded into insignificance. human enemies, more deadly perhaps than any of the animal kingdom, threatened, and if signs counted for anything it would be no long time before they would strike. peggy had not been able to leave the camp without some resort to strategy. naturally jess had been anxious to come. but a quick flight had been imperative, and the presence of even one other person in the monoplane detracted somewhat from its speed. then, too, peggy had ached with her whole being to be alone--to think. she wanted to reconstruct everything in her mind so that when she told all to mr. bell there would be no confusion, no hesitancy in her story. three sharp toots on the electric signaling horn the aeroplane carried--connected to a set of dry cells--resulted in an outpouring from the mine-hole of the three prospectors. very business-like they looked, too, in khaki trousers, dust covered shirts and rolled up sleeves. "well, well! early visitors," exclaimed mr. bell jocularly, and then struck by peggy's sober expression as she stepped from the car of the aeroplane he stopped short. "my dear child, what is it?" he demanded. "where are the twin fairies of light that used to dance in your eyes?" "my goodness, mr. bell, you ought to have been a poet like your brother," laughed roy coming forward with jimsy to meet his sister. and then, like his senior, he, too, was struck by peggy's anxious look. "what's the trouble, sis; bad news?" he asked. "anything happened?" demanded jimsy. "oh, no, no; set your minds at rest on that," responded peggy. "everything is all right, at least--at least--" her voice wavered a bit and mr. bell gently led her to a stool in front of the rough camp they had set up in the arroyo. "now then, my dear," he said, "what is it?" peggy faced her eager listeners, and, recovering from her momentary tremor, told her story from beginning to end in a clear, convincing way. "do you think i did right in coming?" she concluded. her gaze fell appealingly upon mr. bell. she did not wish this sinewy, wiry, self-reliant man to think that she was a victim of a school girl's hysterical fears. but the mining man's words speedily set her at ease on this point. "think you did right!" he echoed, while a rather serious expression came over his face; "my dear girl, if you had not come to me i should have thought you did very wrong. you have made only one mistake and that was in not telling me before this time about what you overheard at the national house. this red bill, as they call him, is one of the most unscrupulous ruffians that cumber the face of the nevada desert. in any other community he would have been brought up with a round turn long ago. but here," he shrugged his shoulders. "i suppose after all," he went on, "it's the old story of who'll bell the cat." "do you think that we are in serious danger?" inquired jimsy. his eyes were round as saucers and his usually good natured face look troubled. "well, not in serious danger, my boy," rejoined mr. bell; "but, just between us four, mind, it behooves us to use all speed in getting the title of this mine recorded. this red bill is as resourceful as a fox, and what miss peggy has told us shows that he is closer on our trail than i should have imagined possible. the draining of the water hole is unfortunate in two ways. if, as i now suspect, he is camped in the hills to the east of the camp, it is plain that he has secured a supply of water sufficient to last him for some time. and this cuts both ways, for his gain in that respect means our loss. the more water he has the less we have. that much is clear." "clear as mud," said jimsy ruefully; but his tone robbed the words of any humorous significance. "you have reached a decision, mr. bell?" asked roy. the boy had not spoken yet. mr. bell's mouth closed in a firm line and his chin came out in what peggy described to herself as "a fighting bulge." "yes," he said with characteristic vim, "i have. steer wells will not be safe after daylight to-day for the women of the party. red bill is dastard enough, through an attack on them, to try to intimidate me. we must shift to try to camp at once." "but where?" the question came blankly from jimsy. "here. we have a moderate supply of water and there is feed of a kind. enough at least to keep the stock alive till our work is completed. you see," he continued, turning to peggy, "the boys and i have struck a very interesting lead. how far it goes i have no idea, but my mining experience teaches me that it is an offshoot of the mother lode. until we have tapped that i don't want to file a claim." peggy nodded her head sagely. "i see," she said, "you don't want to file your claim and then have somebody else squat down beside you and win the biggest prize of all." "that's it exactly," said mr. bell, "but the question in my mind is whether i am right in exposing you, miss bancroft and miss prescott to what may be peril. and yet--" he broke off and a troubled expression crept over his weather-beaten face. "and yet," peggy finished for him, "there's no way for us to go back now without abandoning the mine." "that's it. but if you--" "i vote to stick by the mine." there was no hesitation in peggy's voice now. mr. bell's keen gray eyes kindled. "you're a girl of real grit," he said, "but the others?" "i'll answer for them. miss prescott need not know anything of the danger. after all, it may amount to nothing. as for jess, she has as much, and more, nerve than i have." "when it comes to eating ice cream," put in jimsy irrelevantly. peggy, glancing about her, could not but reflect at the moment what a strange contrast the scene about them offered to the peaceful landscape and commonplace adventures of hum-drum long island. not but what the girl aviators had had their meed of excitement there, too, as readers of the "girl aviators and the phantom airship" well know. but in the scoriated hills with their scanty outcropping of pallid wild oats, the fire-seered acclivities and the burning blue of the desert heavens above all, she beheld a setting entirely foreign to anything in her experience. "it's like remington's pictures," she thought to herself as she gazed at the roughly clad group about her, the shabby tent, the mining implements cast about carelessly here and there and the smoldering fire with the blackened cooking pots beside it. only one sharply modern note intruded-the two big, yellow-winged monoplanes. even they appeared, in this wild, outre setting, to have taken on the likenesses of giant scarabs, monsters indigenous to the baked earth and starving vegetation. she was roused from her reverie by mr. bell's voice cutting incisively the half unconscious silence into which they had lapsed. "roy, you and your sister will take the monoplane in which miss peggy rode over and bring miss prescott, miss bancroft and my brother over at once." "but the stock and alverado?" the question came from peggy. "alverado, as you call him, can drive the stock across the desert. it should not take him more than twenty-four hours if he presses right ahead. we can send out an aeroplane scouting party for him if he appears to be unduly delayed." after some more discussion along the same lines roy, nothing loth for an aerial dash after his hard work in the mine hole, made ready for the trip. from a locker he drew out his solar helmet and goggles and advised peggy to don her sun spectacles also. but peggy, as on several previous occasions, declined positively to put on the smoked glasses designed to protect the eyes from the merciless glare of the desert at noon day. "they'd make me look like a feminine sherlock holmes," she declared stoutly. "i hope that you won't take it amiss if i say that you have already proved yourself one, and a good one, too," laughed mr. bell as the brother and sister clambered into the chassis. but as roy adjusted his levers for the rise from the depths of the sun-baked arroyo mr. bell held up his hand. "one moment," he said, "bring back some of the dynamite with you. we're almost out of it and it's needed badly. we've got to blast through that streak of hard pan." "we'll bring it," nodded roy, "although i'm not going to tell aunt sally about it. i guess she wouldn't be best pleased at the idea of traveling in company with such a dangerous cargo." as he spoke the propeller began to whir, and after a brief run, the monoplane took the air, rising in a graceful angle toward the burning blue. as they rose above the hills a reddish haze that overspread the horizon became distinctly visible. peggy viewed it with a little apprehension. "i hope that doesn't portend another electrical storm," she said rather anxiously, leaning forward and addressing her brother. roy shook his head. "guess it's just heat haze," he decided. "mr. bell says that those dry storms don't often come twice in one season." "well, let's be thankful for small mercies anyhow," said peggy with a return to her former cheerfulness. the news that camp was to be broken at once and the base of operations removed to the hills, came as a shock to those left behind in the camp. somehow the pleasant shelter of the ragged willows had become a sort of makeshift home to them, and the idea of winging to the barren hills was not pleasing. miss prescott, however, was the only one who made an open wail about it. old mr. bell took it as stoically as he did most things. only, as he hastened about the camp making preparations for the departure, he could have been heard humming: "we've got to go far, far away, to the mountains, so they say; i hate to leave the willows' shade, but brother james must be obeyed." alverado received his instructions with a silent shrug. he informed roy and peggy that there was just enough water left to fill the bags for the dash across the desert. he said no more, but there was a curious kind of reticence in his manner, as if he was holding back something he did not wish to express outwardly. it was not till everything was packed ready for the start, and old mr. bell and miss sally had been hoisted and dragged into the chassis, that he drew roy apart and spoke. peggy was included in the confidence. "while you gone i follow up tracks from the water hole," he said; "bime-by i come to place where sacks slip off one pony's feet. then i see a track that i make stick in my memory long, long ago. that day they leave me for dead on the desert." he stooped and drew the outline of a peculiarly shaped hoof on the alkali-impregnated dust. the boy and girl watched him curiously. "well?" asked peggy, and she and her brother hung on the answer. alverado's face became overcast by a black look. his eyes glowed like two live coals. "i think then i never forget that track. i think the same to-day. the pony that made that track was ridden by red bill." chapter xiv lost! good news awaited them on their return to the camp in the arroyo. mr. bell and jimsy, while working in a desultory fashion on the vein while awaiting their return, had struck what is known in desert parlance as a water-pocket. they had at once set to work excavating a fair-sized hole in the floor of the mine tunnel, and by the way in which the water gushed in it appeared as if there was a plentiful supply to draw upon. it is hard to convey how much this bit of news raised their spirits. "isn't it queer to think how just finding a little water will make you feel good out here, while at home all we had to do was to turn a faucet and we got all we wanted and never dreamed of being thankful for it," observed jess philosophically. "wish we could strike an ice-cream soda pocket," observed jimsy, who was vigorously scouring the dust off his classic lineaments. "say, girls, how would you like right now to hear the cool, refreshing 'fiz-z-z-z' of a fountain, and then hear the ice clink-clinking against the sides of a tall glass of say--lemonade or--" "jimsy bancroft, if you say any more we'll duck you head first in that water hole," said peggy with decision. "go ahead," answered jimsy quite unperturbed, "a cold plunge would go fine right now."' "well, we shall have to think up some other punishment for you," decided jess; "a quarter mile dash across the desert, for instance." "well, isn't that the utmost," snorted jimsy; "here i try to cool you girls off by describing the delightful surroundings of a soda fountain and then you threaten me with bodily violence. 'twas ever thus,'" and jimsy, with an assumption of wounded dignity, strode off to where old mr. bell was already busy over the cooking fire. the midday meal passed off more brightly than might have been expected considering the circumstances in which the adventurers found themselves. "at all events, we can't starve an the desert," jimsy, "even if we do run short of water." "how is that?" inquired old mr. bell innocently, although the twinkle in jimsy's eye had put the others on their guard. "because of the sand-wiches there," rejoined the lad with a laugh, in which the others could not help joining. "i don't care about sandwiches, particularly ham ones," struck in miss prescott ingenuously, which set them all off again. "looks to me as if there might be a jack-rabbit or two in these hills," observed mr. bell after the meal had been dispatched. "i know it's not good form in the west to eat jack-rabbits, but they're not so bad if you kill them when they are young. anyhow, it would be a change from this everlasting canned stuff." "i'll go," roy declared; "i'll take that twenty two rifle and peggy can carry that light twenty-gauge shotgun. it's just the thing for girls and children." "oh, indeed," sniffed the embattled peggy scornfully; "i suppose you think i can't handle a man's size gun?" "i didn't say so, my dear sister, and i humbly beg your pardon for anything i may have said which may have hurt your feelings," said roy with a low and conciliatory bow; "what i meant was that the light twenty-gauge doesn't kick so hard and, moreover, won't blow a rabbit to pieces if you happen to hit him." "happen to hit him!" shouted jess, going into a convulsion of laughter. "oh, you know what i mean well enough," protested roy, coloring somewhat under his tan. "want to come, jimsy?" he asked, after a moment's pause. "tramp over those old hills that look as baked as a loaf of overdone bread?" snorted jimsy. "no, thank you. i'm going to stay home and read a nice book about greenland's icy mountains." "and i," declared jess, vivaciously, "am going to persuade aunt sally to make us some vanilla and strawberry ice cream." so roy and peggy set off alone on their tramp in quest of game. it did not look a promising country for hunting; but, as mr. bell had pointed out, an occasional jack rabbit might be met with. it was rough going over the rocks and heavy sand, but peggy stuck to it manfully, and as a reward for her perseverance, had the honor of bringing down the first game--a small jack rabbit, young and tender, that bounded almost under her feet from the shade of the sage brush in which he had been lying. this put roy on his mettle, and brother and sister wandered further than they had intended, urged on by the hope of further success. but no more game of any kind was put up, if we except one distant view they had of a sage hen. this bird was "sage" enough to take wing long before they came within shot of her. "good gracious, that sun is lower than i thought," exclaimed roy, suddenly awakening to the fact that they had wandered a considerable distance from the camp. several of the monotonous ground-swells of the desert hills, in fact, separated them from it. "we'd better hurry back," declared peggy, "they'll be worrying about us at the camp." but to talk about hurrying back and doing it were two different things. roy discovered, to his dismay, that not only had he lost the location of the camp, but that their footsteps, by which they might have retrailed their path, had been obliterated in the shifting sands. he said nothing to his sister, however, for several minutes, but plodded steadily on in the direction in which his judgment told him the arroyo of the gold mine lay. it was peggy herself who broke the ice. "roy, do you know where you are going?" roy stammered a reply in what was meant to be a confident tone. but he felt it did not deceive the gray-eyed girl at his side. evasion was useless. "frankly, i don't, sis. everything seems to have twisted around since we came this way earlier in the afternoon. i thought we could use the tops of the rises for land marks, but they all look as much alike as so many sea-waves." a sharp shock, which was actually physically painful, shot through peggy at the words. the sun, a red-hot copper ball, hung in livid haze almost above the western horizon. on every side of them were scoriated hills, desolate, forbidding, sinister in the dying day, and all fatally similar in form. "we must try shooting. perhaps they will hear us," suggested peggy, a sickening sense of fear--fear unlike any she had ever known--clutching at her heart. roy blazed away, but the feeble reports of the light weapons they had did not carry to any distance. indeed, it was only the necessity of doing something that had impelled peggy to make the suggestion. all at once an uncanny thing happened. a big, black desert raven flew up with a scream, almost under their feet, and soared above their heads, screeching hoarsely. to such a tension were their nerves strung that both boy and girl started and hastily stepped back. "ugh, what a fright that thing gave me," exclaimed peggy with a shudder that she could not control. "nasty looking beast, and that cry of his isn't beautiful," commented roy in as easy a tone as he could assume. "alverado told me that those desert ravens were inhabited by the souls of those who had lost their way and perished on the alkali," shivered peggy. "say, sis, don't be creepy. you surely don't believe all the rot those superstitious mexicans talk, do you?" "no, not exactly--but--oh, roy," even plucky peggy's voice broke and quavered, "it's so lonely, and whatever are we to do?" the last words came wildly. peggy was not, as we know, a nervous girl, but the situation was enough to unstring the nerves of the most stolid of beings. chapter xv the perils of the hills suddenly roy gave a sharp exclamation. something about a cone-shaped peak to the west of them appeared familiar. "the camp is in that direction, i'm sure of it," he declared, "come on, peg, we'll strike out for it, and in half an hour's time we'll be telling our adventures over a good supper." by this time peggy was willing to start anywhere if she was moderately sure the camp lay in that direction, and roy's enthusiasm was contagious. filled with renewed hope the brother and sister struck out for the cone-shaped peak. its naked base showed violet in the evening shadows, while its sharply rounded top was bathed in a rosy glow of light. even in her agitation peggy could not help admiring the wonderful palette of colors into which the dying day transformed the dreary desert sea. beyond the range the vast expanse of solitude spread glitteringly. all crimson and violet, with deep purple marking the depressions in its monotonous surface, and here and there the dry bed of one of its spasmodic lakes, showing almost black in its obscurity. these lakes were water-filled only in the early spring, and their moisture had long since died out of them. under a noon-day sun they showed like shallow bowls filled with scintillating crystals. but, had they known it, roy and peggy were striking out on a course precisely opposite to that which they should have taken. every step of the advance to the sugar-loaf shaped peak was a step in the wrong direction. like many other travelers, whose bones whiten on the alkali, they had become confused by the monotonous similarity of one feature of the dreary hills to the other. the true extent of their blunder did not dawn upon them till they had reached the foot of the queer peak, and even the most minute survey of their surroundings failed to show them any trace of the camp. no cheerful glow of a fire illumined the fast darkening sky. for all the signs of human life they could discover, they might have been alone in a dead world. in fact, the scenery about them did resemble very closely those maps of the moon--the dead planet--which we see in books of astronomy. there were the same jagged, weird peaks, the same dark centers, dead and extinct, and the same brooding hush of mystery which we associate with such scenes. somewhere off in the distance a coyote howled dismally as the sun rushed under the horizon and the world was bathed in sudden darkness. peggy turned to her brother with a low little moan. she caught her arms about his neck and hung there sobbing. in his solicitude for her, roy forgot his own dismay and misery, which was perhaps a good thing, for by the time peggy recovered herself, the boy was already casting about for some means of passing the night as comfortably as possible. "we'll stick it out till daylight some how, peg," he promised, "and i'm confident that by that time they'll send up one of the monoplanes, and from up in the air they'll have no difficulty in locating us." the thought was a comforting one, and peggy's first flush of passionate grief and fear gave way to calmer feelings. no doubt it would be as roy had forecast. after all, she argued, it was only one night in the open, and they had their weapons and plenty of ammunition. by a stroke of good luck, roy had stuffed his pockets full of the hard round biscuits known as "pilot bread" before they left the camp. he also had matches and a canteen full of water. poor peggy still carried the lone jack-rabbit, the trophy of her gun, and roy at once set about grubbing up sage brush and making a fire with the oleaginous roots as he had seen mr. bell do. before long a roaring blaze was ready, and then the boy began the task of skinning and preparing the rabbit for cooking. peggy turned away during this operation, but summoned up fortitude enough to gaze on while her brother spitted the carcass on the cleaning rod of his rifle and broiled it in primitive fashion. "first call for dinner in the dining car forward!" he announced in as gay a voice as he could command when the cooking seemed to be finished. "the first course is broiled jack rabbit with pilot bread and delicious, sparkling alkali water. the second course is broiled jack rabbit with--" "oh, roy, don't," cried peggy half hysterically; "it reminds me of the train and the good times we had on the way out from the east. we didn't think then that--" "let me give you some broiled jack-rabbit," proffered roy, gallantly extending a bit of smoking meat on the end of his knife. peggy bit it daintily, expecting to make a wry face over it, but to her surprise she found it not half bad. between them, the two hungry young people speedily reduced that rabbit to first principles. "and now for dessert," exclaimed roy, in a triumphant voice. "no, i'm not joking--look here!" he drew from his pocket a flat, pink box which, on being opened, proved to contain several cakes of chocolate of peggy's favorite brand. "oh, dear," sighed peggy as she nibbled away at the confection, "if only i knew positively that we were going to come out all right i'd really be inclined to enjoy this as a picnic." "hooray! here comes the moon," cried roy, after an interval, during which the chocolate steadily diminished in quantity. over the eastern horizon, beyond the desolate peaks and barren "ocean" of the desert, a silver rim crept. rapidly it rose till the full moon was climbing on her nightly course and flooding the alkali with a soft radiance almost as bright as subdued electric light. against the glow the weird, ragged peaks stood out as blackly as if cut out of cardboard. one could see the tracery of every bit of brush and rock outlined as plainly as if they had been silhouetted by an artist at the craft. all at once peggy gave a frightened little cry and shrank close to roy. the firelight showed her face drawn and startled. "oh, roy, over there! no, not that peak--that one to the right!" "well, sis, what about it?" asked roy indulgently. "something moved! no, don't laugh, i'm sure of it." "a coyote maybe or another jack rabbit. in that case we'll have a chance at a shot." "no, roy, it wasn't an animal." peggy's tones were vibrant with alarm--tense as a taut violin string. "what i saw was a man." "a man. nonsense! unless it was someone from the camp looking for us." "no, this man was watching us. he may have been crouching there for a long time. i saw the outline of his sombrero black against the moonlight behind that rise. oh, roy, i'm frightened." "rubbish," declared roy stoutly, although his heart began to beat uncomfortably fast. "what man could there be here unless it was alverado, and he couldn't possibly have arrived by this time." "but, roy, it wasn't my fancy. truly it wasn't. i saw a man crouching there and watching us. when i looked up he vanished." "must have been a rock or something, sis. moonlight plays queer tricks you know. don't let's make the situation any worse by imagining things." "it was not imagination," repeated peggy stoutly. but roy, perhaps because he did not wish to, would not admit the possibility of peggy's vision being correct. a long, loud cry like the laughing of an imprisoned soul cut the stillness startlingly. "ki-yi-yi-yi-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o!" "coyotes!" laughed roy, "that's what you saw." peggy said nothing. the sudden sharp sound had rasped her overwrought nerves cruelly. "ki-yi-yi-yi-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o!" the demoniacal laughing, half howl, half bark, cut the night again. this time it came from a different direction. from other grim peaks the cry was caught up. it seemed that the creatures were all about them. "surrounded!" muttered roy a bit nervously. he had not forgotten the fight in the canyon, although, as he knew, coyotes, only on the very rarest occasions, when driven desperate by hunger, attack mankind. the cries appeared to come from all quarters now. and they were drawing nearer, course lay to the eastward there was no mistaking that. "they are closing in on us, sis. better load up that gun." as he spoke roy refilled the magazine of his little twenty-two rifle. "ki-yi-yi-yi-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o!" this time the cry was quite close and behind them. roy switched sharply round. the surroundings, the uncanny cries, the solitude were beginning to tell on his nerves, too. his self-control was being wrought to a raw edge. was it fancy, or as he switched abruptly about did he actually see a dark object duck behind a rock? an object that bore a strange resemblance to a sombrero. "good gracious, i musn't become as shaky as this," the boy thought, making a desperate effort to marshal his faculties, and then he sniffed sharply. "what is it, roy?" asked peggy strangely calm now in the face of what she deemed must prove an emergency. roy's answer was peculiar. "i smelled tobacco just now, i'm sure of it," he whispered in a low tone. "i guess you were right, sis." "but the coyotes?" "are men signaling to each other and closing in on us." as he spoke the boy scattered the fire, and seizing peggy by the arm dragged her into the black shadow of the cone-shaped peak. chapter xvi red bill summers a keen chill, sharp as if an icy wind had swept her, embraced peggy. it was succeeded by a mad beating of her heart. roy said nothing but clutched his rifle. he jerked it to his shoulder as, out of the shadows, a figure emerged sharp and black against the moonlight. as if she were in a trance peggy saw roy's hand slide under the barrel of the little repeater and then came the sharp click of the repeating mechanism, followed by the snap of the hammer as it fell forward. but no report followed. "jammed!" exclaimed the boy desperately. at the same moment the figure approaching them, which for an instant had vanished behind a shoulder of rock, emerged boldly, the moonlight playing on a revolver barrel pointed menacingly at the brother and sister. "no foolin' thar, youngsters," came a harsh voice; "we've got you where we want you." coincidently from all about them the rocks seemed to spawn figures, till half a dozen men in rough plainsman's garb stood in the moonlight. resistance was useless; worse, it might have resulted in a calamity more dire than the one that had overtaken them. but curiously enough the very hopelessness of their situation inspired in peggy a far different feeling to the terror that had clutched at her heart a moment before. she was conscious of a swift tide of anger. in one of the figures she had recognized the renegade guide. "juan--you!" she exclaimed in tones in which scorn struggled with indignation. the guide turned away. even his effrontery wilted before the young girl's frank contempt. it was all clear enough to peggy now. evidently, juan had been bribed by these men to stay with the party till he had learned their plans, which he was then to betray to the band. for, in the moonlight peggy had had no difficulty in recognizing the men whose conversation she had overheard at the national house. there was the red-headed man, with his coarse, bristling crop of hair, and the mustache like the stumpy bristles of an old tooth brush, the tall, dark young fellow with the red sash and the silver spurs, poor peggy's "romantic brigand," and the hawk-nosed man with the drooping mustache, who had formed the red-headed one's companion on the train. "hearn of red bill summers, i op-ine," shot out the man with the red hair in a voice that rasped like a file on rusty iron. "i think so," rejoined roy quietly, and peggy rejoiced to hear her brother's calm, steady tones. "wall, i'm him. you treat me right and don't make no fuss an' we'll git along all right. if not--" he paused significantly. "whar's buck bellew?" the red-headed one gazed about him. from the shadows stepped peggy's "romantic brigand." "buck, you put a couple of half hitches about them kids." "the gal, too?" hesitated the silver-spurred one addressed as "buck." "sure. didn't i tell yer to." "wa-al, i won't. that's flat. i ain't never persecuted women folks an' i ain't goin' ter start now." red bill summers paused and then grumbled out: "all right, then. she kin ride the greaser's horse. juan, you yellow-skinned bronco, go git ther ponies." juan flitted off and presently reappeared, leading half a dozen wiry little ponies. in the meantime the remainder of the band had gathered about roy and peggy, regarding them with frank curiosity. except that their weapons were taken away from them no harm was offered them however, and roy had not, so far, even been tied up. "this isn't a bit like the story-book hold-ups", thought peggy. "if it wasn't for their rough clothes and fierce looks these men wouldn't be so very different from anyone else." "now, miss, i'll help you to mount. sorry we ain't got a side saddle, but we don't hev much use fer such contraptions with our outfit." it was the red-sashed man speaking. he held out a stirrup for peggy, and the girl, perforce, mounted the pony. she caught herself wondering as she did so what her friends at home in the east would have thought if they could have seen her at the moment. it was roy's turn next. brother and sister were permitted to ride side by side. juan, to peggy's secret satisfaction, was compelled to give up his burro to one of the outlaws while he tramped along. "serves him right," thought the girl. the man whose pony roy bestrode leaped nimbly into the saddle behind buck bellew. hardly a word was spoken, but their captors closed in silently about the boy and the girl prisoners. "death valley," ordered red bill briefly, swinging himself into the saddle. peggy guessed that the sinisterly named place must be their destination. amid the maze of pinnacles, minarets and spires of the desert range the horsemen forged slowly forward. from the fact that they traveled toward the newly risen moon peggy surmised that their course lay to the eastward . but presently it shifted and they began moving north. "where can we be going?" peggy found an opportunity to exchange a word or two with roy. owing to the rough nature of the ground their rear guard had, of necessity, fallen back a bit. "no idea, sis. one thing seems certain, however, they don't mean to harm us, at least not yet." the rear guard closed up again, necessitating silence once more. all night they traveled, ambling at the plainsman's "trotecito" when opportunity offered, and then again slacking to a crawling walk where the baked ground grew uneven and criss-crossed with gullies and arroyos. at last, when peggy's head was beginning to sway with exhaustion, the eastern sky began to grow gray. the coming day lit up the desert wanly, as if it had been a leaden sea. but with the uprising of the sun the familiar glaring white of the alkali blazed out once more. they had left the pinnacled hills and were now traveling over undulating country overgrown with rough brush. it was a sad, drab color, and smelled pungently where the ponies' hooves trampled it. but presently they broke into a different country. it was flatter than that which they had already traversed and, if possible, more desolate, sun-bleached and parched. the ponies stumbled over loose shale, raising clouds of suffocating dust that tingled in the nostrils. down they rode into its basin-like formation. all about the depression arose the craggy, stripped hills. their jagged peaks seemed to shut out the rest of the world and compress the universe into this baked, burning basin in the desert. across the bottom of it the alkali swept in little vagrant puffs, proceeding from the gaps of the hills. it piled in little gray heaps like ashes. the air hung steady and still as a plumb line dropped from the sky. "we've got ter git across hyar muy pronto, (very quickly)," grunted the red-headed man, whose perspiring, fat face was coated gray with dust and alkali. "what a hole fer white men ter be in." "it's like a busted heat-blister on a big piecrust," commented buck bellew, whose jauntiness had wilted. his red sash was of a piece now with the rest of his garments-a dirty, dull gray. after a while a hot wind sprang up. it felt like the heated blast from an opened oven door. it tore in mad witch-dances about the dismal basin, sending whirling dust-devils dancing over that dreary place. they spread, gyrated, swelled to giant mushroom shape, and died down in a monstrous ballet. peggy felt her senses slipping under the strain. but she kept a tight rein on herself. "i must brace up for roy's sake," she thought. she stole a glance at her brother. roy, despite his plight and the dust which enveloped him, was tight-lipped and defiant. no sign of a breakdown appeared on his features, for which peggy breathed a prayer of thanks. "after all, god is near us even in this dreadful place," she thought, and the reflection comforted her strangely. across the bottom of the bowl men and animals crawled like flies round the base of a pudding basin. from time to time the water kegs on the back of juan's burro were sparingly tapped. at such times buck bellew never failed to be at peggy's side with a tin cup of the warm, unpalatable stuff. but at least it was liquid, and peggy thanked the man with as cheerful an air as she could assume. but, unending as the progress across the red hot depression seemed to be, it came to an end at last, and the ponies began to climb the steep walls on the further side. at the summit, a surprise was in store for them--for peggy and roy that is. to the others the place was evidently familiar. some rough huts, half of canvas and half of brush, showed that it had long been used as a rendezvous by the band. the spot was a perfect little amphitheatre in the barren hills. green grass, actual green grass, covered its floor and wild oats grew on the hillsides in fair plentitude. from the further end of the enclosed oasis arose clouds of steam which they afterwards learned came from boiling hot springs. but the waters of the hot springs soon lost their heat, and in the course of years had watered this little spot till it literally--in comparison with its surroundings--blossomed like the rose. red bill summers threw himself from his pony and, lying full length beside the creek that trickled through the valley from the springs above, he reveled in the water. when he had drunk his fill he stood erect. "wa-al," he drawled, running his hand through his stubbly red crop, "i reckon we're home again." chapter xvii a friend in need from one of the huts at the upper end of the miniature valley an odd figure emerged. it was garbed in a blue blouse and loose trousers of the same color. embroidered slippers without heels caused a curious shuffling gait in the newcomer. as he drew closer peggy and roy perceived that he was a chinaman. his queue was coiled upon the top of his skull, giving a queer expression to his stolid features, over which the yellow skin was stretched as tightly as parchment on a drum. "here you, ah sing, hurry muchee quick and cook us a meal," roared red bill as he perceived the newcomer. "alee litee," was the easy-going response, "me catchum plentee quick." the oriental, who was by this time quite close, allowed his slant eyes to rest curiously on the two young prisoners. his mask-like face, however, betrayed no emotion of any kind, and with a guttural grunt he was off; apparently to set about his preparations for obeying the orders of the outlaw leader. red bill turned to peggy and roy, who had dismounted. "i'll speak to you two after we've eaten," he said; "in the meantime the young lady kin take that hut thar." he indicated a tumble-down structure near at hand. "it ain't a fift' avenoo mansion," he grinned, "but i reckon it'll hev ter do." then he switched on roy. "you boy," he growled, "you kin hev thet other shack. if you want ter wash up thar's a bucket. we've hot and cold water in these diggin's, too, so take yer choice. hot's above, cold's below. an' one thing. you ain't goin' ter be closely watched. it ain't needful. you rec'lect that red-hot basin we come through?" as the questioner seemed to pause for an answer roy nodded. "wall the country all around hyar's jes' like that, so thet if yer moseyed you wouldn't stand a chinaman's chance of gittin' away alive." red bill, with a vindictive grin, turned on his heel abruptly and stalked off, followed by the others. peggy and roy were left alone. seemingly no restraint was to be put upon them. in fact, it appeared, as red bill had pointed out, that an attempted escape could only result fatally for them. "whatever will aunt sally and the rest be thinking?" exclaimed peggy as the rough looking group, talking and gesticulating among themselves, made toward the upper end of the valley. "poor aunt! she must be in a terrible state of mind," rejoined roy dejectedly. "if only we could have got word to her or mr. bell--" "in that case we could have taken it ourselves," wisely remarked peggy; "well, brother mine, there is no use in borrowing trouble. let's make the best of it. i've an idea that that redheaded man means to offer us some sort of a proposition after dinner." "wish he'd offer us some dinner first; i'm ravenous." "well, i couldn't eat a thing till i've got some of this dust off me, so please get me a bucket of water." "say, look at that chinaman eyeing us," broke off roy suddenly; "wonder what's the matter with him?" "guess he isn't used to visitors," suggested peggy. "so this is where this gang, we heard talked about in blue creek, have been hiding themselves. no wonder the sheriff couldn't find them." "it's an ideal hiding place," agreed roy, "far too ideal to suit us. i don't see how we'd ever get out of here without help." "oh, as for that, i kept careful track of the way we came. i noted all the landmarks, and i really believe i could pick up the trail--is that the way you say it?--again." "good for you. i hope we have a chance to try out your sense of observation. but i'm off to get that water. say, that chinaman's staring harder than ever. what do you suppose he wants?" "i haven't an idea. opium perhaps. don't they eat it or do something with it and then have beautiful dreams? i've heard--oh, roy," the girl broke off breathlessly, "i've got it! you know that little jade god that clara cummings brought back from china with her when her father resigned as consul there?" "yes. but what--" "well, look here, you silly boy, i've got it on now. look on my watch chain. i wonder if that could be what--what that mongolian was regarding so closely?" "maybe," responded roy carelessly, "but now i'm really off to get that water. hot or cold?" "both!" cried peggy. the spirits of youth are elastic, and even in their predicament peggy found her heart almost singing within her at the beauty of the green little valley after their long, dusty journey over the alkali barrens. "after all," she assured herself, "i don't believe they mean us any real harm and--oh, what an adventure to tell about when we get home again." a refreshing wash and a hasty adjustment of her hair before a mirror in a tiny "vanity box," which shared the watch charm snap with the little jade god, served to still further raise peggy's spirits. red bill summers and his followers ate at the upper end of the valley, but the chinaman brought food on an improvised board tray to the captives. having set down two dishes of a steaming stew of some kind, flanked with coffee, sweetened and flavored with condensed milk, and real bread, the oriental glanced swiftly about him. red bill and his companions were noisily convivial, and paying no attention to what was transpiring at the lower end of the valley. like a flash the chinaman slid to his knees and extending his hands above his head touched his forehead to the ground three times in front of peggy. then rising he exclaimed: "melican girl, gleat joss, mighty joss. ah sing he come bymby. goo'bye." he turned swiftly and silently in his silken slippers and glided off without a backward look. "well, what do you make of that?" wondered roy. "oh, roy, don't you see. he was worshiping this joss, as he calls clara's little jade god. just think, this may be a way out of it. if we can make him believe that--that--" "that we stand in with his josh--joss--what do you call it?--you mean that we can scare him into letting us have horses to-night and escaping. "how you do run ahead, roy. i hadn't thought of that yet. but it might be done. he said he was coming back by and by. i wonder what he wants?" "maybe your blessing," grinned roy. "but come on. let's tackle this stew while it's hot. it looks great to me after that jack-rabbit supper." "and this is bread--real bread, too!" cried peggy, following roy's example of "tackling the stew." it was ten minutes after the last mouthful had disappeared that the tall, red-sashed young outlaw came toward the shack in front of which brother and sister were seated. "the boss wants to see you," he said briefly, and signed to them to follow him. red bill summers sat alone before the remains of the chinese cook's dinner. the other outlaws were busied staking out their ponies and removing the dust and perspiration from the little animals' coats. far off, like a lost spirit, the treacherous juan with his burro, could be seen. from time to time he cast a covert glance toward peggy and roy. in his own country treachery such as he had shown would have been visited with death even if the avenger had to die for it himself the next minute. the outlaw chief looked up as his dapper follower came up with the young easterners. "grub all right?" he asked. "not bad at all," responded roy non-committally. he didn't want to show this red-headed law-breaker that he was afraid of him. "wa-al, thet's jes' a sample of ther way i'm willin' ter treat yer as long ez you're here. i've got a hard name around ther alkali, but i ain't ez black ez i'm painted." to this the two young prisoners made no reply, and red bill looked at them searchingly, but if he expected to read anything from their faces he was speedily undeceived. "now, then," he went on, "as you'll have guessed, i didn't kidnap you two fer fun. i did it fer infermation. i reckin' you know pretty well the location of jim bell's mine.' "no better than you do," responded roy boldly; "i guess that scoundrel juan told you all you wanted to know." "oh, as fur as thet goes," rejoined red bill easily, "i could ride right frum hyar to yer camp. but what i'm gittin' at is this: you've seen the papers jim bell is goin' ter file. you know ther exact location. thet's what i want. give it to me an' i'll hev my men take yer as close ter yer camp as it's safe ter go without kickin' up a rumpus." "in other words, you wish me to betray mr. bell's plans to you before he--" roy stopped. he had been on the verge of saying, "before he's filed the claim himself." just in time, however, he recollected that this might be news to the outlaw, and he stopped short. but red bill was as astute as a desert fox. "before he files the claim himself, you wuz goin' ter say, i be-lieve," he drawled, purposely accentuating his words so that they fell like drops of ice water from his cold lips. roy could have bitten his tongue out. quite unmeaningly he had betrayed a secret which might prove of tremendous import in the desperate game red bill seemed bent on playing. "i said nothing about the filing or not filing of a claim," parried roy, after a pause. "yer don't hev ter say everything ter make yerself understood, younker," snarled red bill, facing the boy and blinking his little red-rimmed orbs into roy's honest open countenance. "thet's somethin' you've foun' out anyhow, bill," drawled the red-sashed young outlaw, drawing his thin lips back in a sarcastic smile. roy felt himself turning red with chagrin. he had intended to play a cunning game with red bill, but the outlaw seemed to be capable of reading his mind. steeling himself to be more careful in the future he awaited the further questions of his inquisitor. upon the manner in which he answered them he felt that not alone his safety and peggy's depended, but also the security and possibly the lives of the party in the distant arroyo. chapter xviii ah sing's joss "that'll be all on that line," said red bill presently. he turned to his companion. "got a pencil and a bit of paper, buck?" he asked. the red-sashed one produced the required pencil--a much bitten stubâ��and then set off toward the cook house for a bit of paper. he returned with the fly leaf out of an old account book. "good enough," said red bill. "now then younker," turning to roy, "you take this pencil, lay that paper on that flat rock and write as i tell you." wondering what was coming, roy obeyed, while peggy with wondering eyes looked on anxiously at the strange scene. it had grown quite still in the little valley. the only sounds that occasionally interrupted the hush were the shouts of the men tethering the ponies and the harsh scream of a buzzard swinging high against the burning blue of the desert sky. "mister bell, dear sir," began red bill, dictating in his rasping voice. "all right," said roy, transcribing the words to the paper. the boy had an inkling of what was to come, but he didn't wish to make trouble before he actually had to. "got that, did you?" 'yes. "very well. now write this: 'me an' my sister is in the hands of those who are our friends at present. it depends on you if they remain so. the messenger who brings you this will arrange for the transfer of the location papers of the mine to these parties. if you don't do this they will--'" red bill paused and shoving back his sombrero scratched his rubicund poll. "make it 'they will-take other measures.' jim bell's no fool an' he'll know what's meant by that," concluded the outlaw of the alkali. "why you ain't bin writing what i tole yer," he whipped out suddenly, just becoming aware that roy's pencil had been idle. peggy breathed hard. there was menace in the man's very attitude. roy looked up boldly. "you don't suppose that i'm going to be party to any scheme like that," he demanded with flaming checks. peggy, watching the little drama closely, saw that the ruffian was plainly taken off his feet by this. he had not expected--or so it seemed clear--that he would encounter any opposition in carrying out his rascally plan of playing off the safety of a boy and a girl who had never wronged him for the sake of gaining the title to a mine. "what, you won't write it!" he bellowed at length. the great veins on his neck swelled. his little pig-like eyes gleamed malevolently. roy stood his ground firmly, although his heart was beating far faster than was pleasant, and a mist swam in front of his eyes. but he had seen peggy watching, and knew that her trust in his integrity and honor had never faltered. right then roy took an inward oath that he would not destroy her faith. "no, i will not," he flashed back; "i don't see how you could expect me to take part in a plan to trap and trick my own friends." red bill's lip curled up, exposing a row of ragged yellow teeth. "not even at the cost of your own life?" he snarled. roy had half an idea that the ruffian was "bluffing" him. but even had he thought red bill in deadly earnest his reply would have been the same. "no!" the word was ejaculated like a pistol shot. "then listen. your sister--" to emphasize his words the outlaw launched his clumsy, thick-set frame forward. but the next instant he recoiled as if he had stepped on the edge of a fearful abyss. simultaneously roy and peggy became aware of a curious buzzing, whirring sound like the rattling of dried peas on a griddle. a long dark body glided off through the yellow blades of sun-bitten grass. "it's--it's a rattler!" gasped red bill. he stooped as if to catch his ankle, and reeling fell in a clumsy huddled heap on the floor of the valley. as he fell a shot reverberated through the silent place. with one bullet from his revolver the tall young outlaw had dispatched the reptile, which had lain hidden in the grass. "get you, bill?" he asked laconically stooping over his chief. "yes. i'm a gone coon i guess, buck." his red face, contorted and purple from pain, the stricken man slid backward. his lips parted and became ashen. the poison was coursing through his veins with terrific rapidity. "let me see. maybe i can be of some use. stand aside, please." it was peggy. the group of outlaws that had gathered about the recumbent man gave place respectfully. from a bag at her waist peggy drew out a little oblong leather case. it had been a present to her from mr. bell before they set out to cross the reptile-haunted desert. opening the case she drew out a fairy-like little squirt, trimmed in silver. it was a hypodermic syringe. from a case she produced some crystals of a purplish color. "a cup of water, please," she begged. it was in her hand almost as quickly as she made the request. in the meantime, with a handkerchief she had deftly bandaged the outlaw's leg above the bite. this was twisted tightly with a stick and prevented the poison circulating above the wound. on red bill's ankle the reptile's bite was plainly to be seen. two tiny blue punctures, fine enough to have been done with a needle. yet through the fangs that gave the bite had been delivered enough poison to kill a strong man. with flying fingers peggy immersed the crystals in the water, turning it a deep crimson. then filling the syringe she pushed its needle-like point under the outlaw's skin and just above the wound. then she injected the antidote which she had mixed--permanganate of potassium--and old plainsmen will tell you there is no better opponent of a rattler's poison than the one peggy used, the method of utilizing which had been opportunely taught her by mr. bell. red bill's lips parted. his voice came through them painfully, hissingly. "thank 'ee," he muttered, and then closed his eyes. they carried him into a shack a little way up the valley and laid him on a cot. "anything else to be done, miss?" asked one of the outlaws in an awed tone. "no," answered peggy with quite the manner of a professional nurse; "he'll do nicely now. in an hour or so he ought to be better. you can call me then." "wa-al, i'll be all fired, double gosh-jiggered," roy heard one of the men say as they left the shack and emerged into the late afternoon sunlight. the outlaws were all in the shack of their leader. all, that is, but the chinaman, who had been an interested observer from the outskirts of the crowd. as the boy and girl came out of the shack he glided up to them as softly and silently as ever. "me see. you welly good. allee samee doctor. joss he helpee you," he said in a low voice. then glancing about he sank his voice to a whisper: "but you no tlustee led (red) bill. him plentee bad mans. he feelee sick now. him plentee thank yous. when he well he do you muchee harm." "he could not be so ungrateful," exclaimed roy; "my sister saved his life." "umph. that plentee big pity. why not let him die. good liddance," opined the cold-blooded ah sing. "listen, melican boy an' girl, helpee you escape to-night you do one littlee ting for me." "you'll help us escape?" echoed peggy, the blood beating in her ears. "how? we'd need horses, water, food and--" "me catchee eblyting. leve him all to ah sing, he git um." a cunning smile overspread his features. "but ah sing wantee some leward he do dis." "of course. any money you want you shall have in blue creek," burst out roy. "me no wantee monee. me want lillee misses joss. him plentee big joss my countlee. i have that joss i have plentee eblyting i want." "he means the little god that clara gave me," whispered peggy. "all right, sing, you shall have it. you shall have it when you are ready to send us out of the valley." the chinaman's face changed just the fraction of a muscle. that was as near as he came to permitting himself to show his gratification over the promise of the joss. "allee litee," he said, "bymby he get dark. you wait in missees shack. when i ready i give one, two, tree knocks-so!" as silently as he had glided up he glided off again just as the crowd began pouring from the shack where the injured outlaw lay. roy and peggy could only exchange wild glances of astonishment at the surprising turn affairs had taken. but presently peggy spoke. "i knew when i prayed in that terrible valley, roy, that a way would be found," she said, and her voice was vibrant with reverence and faith as the brother and sister turned away. chapter xix the escape and what followed "roy! roy! wake up!" peggy shook the shoulder of her brother, who had dozed off in a rough chair formed out of an old flour barrel. she glanced at her watch. it was almost midnight, and half an hour since the steady footfall of the sentry, who was keeping desultory watch on the captives, had passed the hut. roy was wide awake in an instant. he sat up staring wildly about, and then, casting sleep from him, he listened intently. tap! tap! tap! the three raps came against the back wall of the shack, and then: "missee all ledee. man who watchee you him go sleep. me got ponies, water, eblyting. make um number one quick." with quick, beating pulses the brother and sister slipped from the door and out into the valley. it was moonlight-that is to say, the moon had risen, but a peculiar haze overcast the sky and the light of the luminary of the night only served to make the darkness more visible. back of the shack stood a vague figure holding two ponies by the bridles. it was ah sing. "you give me lilly joss now, missee?" he asked eagerly. swiftly peggy stooped and unfastened the little jade god from far-off china. "here, sing," she said simply, "and thank you." the chinaman bowed low three times before he took the precious symbol into his keeping. he slipped it inside his loose blouse. "all ledee now," he said, holding a stirrup for peggy to mount. "but how will you explain it? won't they kill you when they find the ponies are gone?" asked roy. the oriental laughed the throaty, mirthless chuckle of his race. "i tellee them you steal them," he said; "they no thinkee ali sing hab good sense enough to help you. all litee now. good bye." before they were thoroughly aware of it, so swiftly had the actual escape happened, peggy and roy found themselves moving out of the valley on their desperate dash for freedom. the ponies went silently as wraiths. the astute ah sing had bundled their feet in sacks so that they made no more noise than cats. in the faint light they could perceive the gateway of the little valley, and in a short time they had passed it and were beginning to traverse the gloomy stretches beyond. suddenly there came a sound that sent every drop of blood in their bodies flying to their hearts, and then set it to coursing wildly through their veins again. bang! the report, coming from behind them, cut the stillness of the night like a scimitar of sound. "a pistol!" exclaimed roy. "they've discovered our escape." peggy shuddered. bending forward at the risk of the noise of their flight being heard, they began to urge their ponies faster. behind them was pandemonium. shouts, cries and shots mingled in a babel of sound. "the kids hev got away!" that cry sounded above all the others, and then, with sinister meaning, came another shout: "saddle up and git arter 'em. get 'em, dead or alive!" sounds of galloping followed this order, and then came the shrill voice of ah sing: "me see um. me see um. they go that way! over there! over the hills!" "good for ah sing," breathed roy; "he has thrown them off the track. he's told them we went the other way. come on, sis; now's our time to make speed before they discover their mistake." the two fugitives urged their ponies unmercifully over the shale. fortunately, in the rarefied air of the desert, the nights are comparatively cool, and the tough little broncos sped along at a good gait without showing signs of distress. but it was a cruel race across the floor of the desolate valley, and when they e merged on to the comparatively easy going of the foothills of the barren range, the ponies were fain to slack up and draw long heaving breaths. "poor little creatures," cried peggy; "you've got a long way to go yet." by the moon, which showed through the haze in a sort of luminous patch, roy gauged the way. peggy's observations, too, made on the journey into the valley, helped. they kept the pinnacled steeps of the barren hills to their right and pressed forward among the undulating foothills. they had been traveling thus for perhaps an hour-pausing now and then to listen for sounds of pursuit when roy suddenly became sensible of a change in the atmosphere. it grew warm and close and almost sticky. a puff of hot wind breathed up in their faces and went screaming off among the mysterious clefts and canyons above. "are we going to have a storm?" wondered peggy. "don't know, sis, but the weather looks ominous. i don't like that wind. we must make more speed." "i hate to drive these poor ponies any faster," protested peggy "but we must, sis. they'll have a good long rest when this is over. come on." so saying roy brought down his quirt--the long raw-hide whip used in the west--over the heaving flanks of his pony. the little animal gamely responded and plunged forward at a quick lope. peggy, perforce, followed suit, although it made her heart ache to press the animals at such a gait. on and on they rode, while the weather every moment grew more peculiar. from the floor of the desert great dust-devils of white alkali arose and swirled solemnly across the wastes. in the semi-darkness they looked like gaunt ghosts. peggy shuddered. it was like a nightmare. once or twice she even pinched herself to see if she were awake. the night, from being cool, had now become blisteringly hot. the wind was like the fiery exhalations of a blast furnace. grains of sand caught up by it drove stingingly against their faces. each grain cut into the flesh, smarting sharply. "we must keep on." it was roy's voice, coming after a long silence. peggy answered with a monosyllable. a short distance further on they dismounted and allayed their thirst from the kegs ah sing had fastened to each saddle, and. then, although their supply was precious, they had to yield to the whinnied entreaties of the ponies. into a small tin bucket each young rider emptied a modicum of the water and let the little animals drink. it seemed to refresh them--mere mouthful that it was--for they pressed on with more spirit after that. but there was no denying the fact that something serious was at hand. from desultory puff s the wind had now increased to a steady blow, which drove a stinging hail of sand all about them blindingly. eddies of hot wind caught up larger grains and dried cactus stems and drove them in terrestrial water spouts across the face of the desert. the moon was quite obscured now, and it was as black as a country church at midnight. all at once peggy's pony sank down, and with a long sigh stretched itself out upon the alkali. roy's almost immediately did the same. as they did so the wind came more furiously. half blinded and with nostrils, eyes and mouths full of sand particles, the two young travelers reeled about in the darkness. suddenly what it all meant burst upon roy with the suddenness of a thunder clap. "it's a sand storm, peggy," he cried. a puff of wind caught up his words and scattered them over the desert. the words sent a chill to peggy's heart. she had heard mr. bell tell of the sand storms of the big alkali--how sometimes they last for days, blotting out trails and burying those unfortunate enough to be caught in them. "get your saddle off and keep your head under it," shouted roy, recalling what he had heard mr. bell say of the only way to weather such disturbances. peggy, half dead with horror, did as she was told. by the time the work of unsaddling had been accomplished the wind was driving furiously. it was impossible to hear unless the words were shouted. the ponies, who had obeyed their first instinct at the initial warning of what was to come, turned their backs to the storm and laid out straight, with their noses to the ground. roy and peggy drew the big flapped mexican saddles over their heads. under this protection they were sheltered from the cruel fury of the wind-driven sand and brush. it was suffocating under the saddle, but when peggy protruded her face for even a breath of the superheated air, she quickly withdrew it. the wind was now a tornado in violence, and the sand stung like countless needles. conversation was, of course, impossible, and they lay in silence while the suffocating gale screamed about them. once or twice peggy had to scrape away the sand from the front of the saddle. she could feel it rising all about her. with the sensation came a terrifying thought. she had heard mr. bell tell of men whose bones had been buried in the sand only to be exposed long afterward, white and bleached, when the wind-formed sand dunes had shifted and exposed them. all at once, above the wind and the steady roar of the furiously driven sand and alkali, peggy thought she heard a wild screech or cry. it sounded like nothing human in its uncanny shrillness. brave girl as she was, peggy shuddered hysterically. could she be losing her mind in the whirling confusion and elemental fury that waged all about her? chapter xx the professor again the evening before the sand storm, a red wagon had been crawling over the alkali toward the barren hills. it was the eccentric vehicle affected by professor wandering william, and was headed for the barren range of hills in which lay the valley of the outlaws. professor wandering william, silently smoking, kept his keen eyes steadily fixed upon the distant hills as he drove, although from time to time he scanned the sky anxiously. "going to be a sandstorm sure," he grunted. "well, if i can make the lee of those hills by sundown i reckon i'll be all right. too bad though. it'll give that precious outfit a chance to put a still further gap between themselves and me--phew! but it's hot!" the professor took off his big sombrero and placed it behind him in the wagon. he seemed to think a minute and then muttered: "oh, well, i guess it's no harm. nobody to see but a few old buzzards anyhow, and they won't tell." the professor, having concluded these self-addressed remarks, did a strange thing. he raised his hands to his head and the next instant his luxuriant long hair had vanished, revealing a close-cropped head of dark hair. this done, he removed his goatee with the same ease, and was revealed as a good-looking, forceful-faced young man of perhaps thirty-two or so. "ah-h-h-h!" he breathed with intense satisfaction, "that's a whole heap better. however, i guess the time's coming pretty quick when i can do without this make-up altogether. i shan't be sorry either. git up!" this last remark was addressed to the motive power of his jaunty red wagon. in obedience the wheels began to revolve faster. but press onward as he would, supper-time found the professor--so strangely shorn--still some distance from the hills. "that storm's coming right up, too," he said to himself over his after-supper pipe; "well, no help for it. i guess we'll have to push on." watering his animals from a bucket previously filled at the spigot of a big water keg built into his wagon the professor hitched up and pressed on to his destination. darkness came on, but still he drove steadily forward, seeking the shelter he knew he could find in the lee of the barren hills. "going to be a hummer and no mistake," he commented half aloud; "good thing-it-didn't catch me out in the middle of the alkali or red bill and his cronies might have had a new lease of life." it was close upon midnight when the professor found a spot to his liking, and by that time the first desultory puffs of the coming storm were sighing in the nooks and crannies of the barren hills. he tethered his team, gave them their hay in the shelter of the wagon, watered them and then, after a good-night pipe, prepared to turn in. he woke from a troubled doze to find the wind rocking the wagon within which he slept. "wonder what kind of weather the ponies are making of it?" he muttered, and rising he opened the canvas flaps at the front of the wagon and peered out. at that instant he saw, or thought he saw, two dark objects move by in the flying smother of sand. but the next moment he told himself it must have been imagination. "guess being alone so much is getting on my nerve," he commented. having seen that his stock were lying down and turning their backs on the flying drift, wandering william, as he called himself, retired once more. but he couldn't sleep for thinking of the strange illusion he had had. "no, it wasn't an illusion either," he said stoutly to himself the next instant. "i'm prepared to swear that i really did see two figures on horseback, though what, in great ginger cookies, they were doing out in this i don't know. appears to me though that they must have had to call a halt right around here some place. in that case i'm going to give 'em a hail, an' if they answer it invite 'em into the wagon. this is no weather to be out without an umbrella." chuckling a little at his joke, wandering william arose and went once more to the front of his wagon. placing his hands to his mouth, funnel-wise, he sent a long, shrill cry vibrating out through the storm. another and another he gave till he was hoarse, but there was no reply. "guess i was dreaming after all," remarked wandering william retiring once more to his blanket. a sickly yellow light struggling through the sand-laden air heralded the day. but the wind had died down and the particles still held in suspension were rapidly thinning out of the air. roy thrust his head from under his saddle like a turtle from its shell. his lips were dry and cracked, his eyes smarted, his skin was irritated with the sand. the whole world seemed to have turned to sand. it was everywhere. "peggy!" a similar turtle-like head projected from the other saddle. poor peggy, she would positively have screamed if she had known the appearance she presented. her hair was tousled, her eyes red with irritation of the sand, and her lips dry and cracked like roy's. "is--is it all over, roy?" she asked a bit quaveringly. "i think so. the wind has died down, and look, the ponies have gotten to their feet. i guess they know." "wasn't it awful. i never thought we should live through it." "nor did i. but there's one good thing, it has obscured our tracks. if any of red bill's gang tried to follow us now they'd have a lot of trouble." "that's so," agreed peggy, and then went on to tell roy of the terrifying screeches and yells she had heard in the night. "nothing but the wind," opined roy, with boy-like superiority. but the next instant it was his turn to start amazedly. through the fog-like gloom that still overhung the desert a figure was making its way toward them. roy's hand flew to the revolver with which the thoughtful ah sing had provided his saddle holster. at the same instant the figure, seemingly that of a young man, turned, and wheeling quickly, ran backward and was swallowed up in the obscurity. "was that one of red bill's men?" gasped peggy. "impossible. they could not have traveled through that storm. but who can it be?" "what did he run like that for?" "i'm going after him to find out," declared roy pluckily; "maybe it's somebody who has become crazed from the sandstorm." "oh, roy, a lunatic!" peggy clasped her hands. but the next instant a fresh surprise greeted them. a tall figure with flowing gray locks and gray goatee, topped off with a big sombrero, was seen approaching from the same direction as that in which the youthful figure had vanished. "wandering william!" exclaimed the two young adventurers in one breath. "yes, wandering william. the precise individual," was the rejoinder; "and just in time to invite you to breakfast. there, there, no explanations now. you both resemble the output of a threshing machine. but i have mirrors, soap, towels and water in my wagon. come along, and if you feel ailing, for the insignificant sum of one dollar i will sell you a bottle of wandering william's wonderful wonder worker." exhausted as both boy and girl felt, they could hardly maintain their gravity in the face of this eccentric individual. the very suddenness and utter unexpectedness of his appearance seemed of a piece with his other odd actions. but suddenly roy recollected the figure that had appeared and then vanished. "i'd like to accept," said roy, with vast cunning as he thought, "but what would your partner say?" "my partner?" wandering william looked frankly puzzled. "yes. that young chap who came toward us and then disappeared again when i came at him with a gun. not that i blame him," roy broke off with a laugh, "but i thought for a moment it was one of red bill's gang." wandering william's keen gray eyes narrowed into two little slits. "what's that you're saying, boy," he exclaimed; "what do you know about red bill summers?" "a good deal too much for our comfort," exclaimed roy, and then he rapidly sketched events of the last twenty-four hours as the trio walked toward wandering william's wagon. the strange vendor of medicine seemed to be deeply interested, although he confined his comments to "ums" and "ahs." "but about that other man," said roy, returning to the charge when he had finished his narrative, "didn't you see him?" "my dear boy," said wandering william seriously, "i think you had better invest in a bottle of wandering william's wonder working witch oil for tired and shattered nerves. there is no one in the vicinity but our three selves." boy and girl stared at him blankly. "but i saw him, too," said peggy. "i dare say, i dare say," and wandering william patted his luxuriant curls; "you had a night of strain. what you need is breakfast--hot coffee and all that. now go in and get fixed up while i attend to your ponies, or rather, red bill's." the wind had by this time died down, and the sun struggled out through the clearing air. nobody was in sight but themselves, and fain to believe that their sand-sore eyes must have played them a trick, the boy and girl proceeded to "fix up" in wandering william's really comfortably appointed wagon. in the meantime one weight had been lifted from peggy's mind. wandering william had explained that it was he who had uttered the shouts and yells which had so alarmed her in the night. "if only it wasn't for that man whom i'm certain i saw," thought peggy as she combed the sand out of her hair, "i should feel quite relieved, but as it is--roy, are you still certain you saw that man--the one you pointed the revolver at i mean?" roy looked dubious. "i--don't know," he confessed. "oh, roy prescott," snapped peggy, "i--i'd like to shake you." chapter xxi out of the desert maze twilight was descending on the camp in the arroyo when jimsy, who had been stationed with a rifle on a butte overlooking the desert maze, gave a sudden shout. the next instant his rifle was at his shoulder and he began shooting into the air as fast as he could. as the rapid staccato volley of sound rattled forth all became excitement in the arroyo. the volley had been the signal agreed upon in case the young sentry caught sight of the missing ones. it came after a wearing night and a still more harrowing day. following the non-arrival of peggy and roy in camp from their hunting excursion a search had at once been commenced, of course without result. an ascent had even been made in one of the monoplanes, but even a bird's-eye view of the surrounding country failed to discover their whereabouts. then came the sandstorm, and hope that the missing ones could have weathered it was almost given up. nevertheless, james bell, in whom hope died hard, had set jimsy as sentinel on the lofty butte in the wild hope that after all the castaways might turn up. and now, as the agreed signal rang out, there was a great outpouring from the camp. aunt sally, pale and red-eyed from weeping, mr. bell, with deep lines of anxiety scoring his face, jess, troubled and anxious looking, and old peter bell, the former hermit, bearing an expression of mild bewilderment. last of all came alverado, the mexican flotsam of the desert. his inscrutable countenance bore no sign of the suffering he had gone through at the thought that harm had come to his worshipped senorita, but in his heart the mexican had suffered as much as the rest. he had arrived in camp with the stock the evening before, and had, with difficulty, been restrained from setting forth at once on a search. "look!" cried jimsy pointing as the others rushed up. they followed the direction of his finger and saw slowly crawling toward the arroyo a red wagon, dust-covered and travel-stained. in front of it were two young figures on horseback, waving frantically. as the volley rattled out they urged their little horses forward on a dash for the arroyo. "thank god!" breathed mr. bell huskily. aunt sally fell into jess's young arms and wept lustily while old bell broke into a rhapsody: "out from the desert safe and sound; hooray! our boy and girl are found!" but nobody paid any attention to his verses, either to laugh or admire just then. after the cruel anxiety of the past hours the relief was too great for any of them to trust themselves to speak. but as peggy and roy--for of course our readers have guessed it was they--drew closer and their dust-covered features could be plainly seen, a great shout went up from the butte. and in it mingled the voice of alverado, the unemotional. the girl and boy were fairly lifted from their ponies and carried in triumph into the camp. "dig down into the stores," ordered mr. bell, "get out all the delicacies we have been savin' for a big occasion." "we'll never have a bigger one than this," declared jimsy; "tell us all about it, roy." "oh, peggy, you darling, is it really you?" cried jess for the 'steenth time, with brimming eyes. as for old mr. bell, as jimsy observed afterwards, "he just wrapped poetical circles round himself. you couldn't see him for rhythm." "hullo, folks!" the voice came suddenly from the shadows. it was wandering william. in the general excitement everybody had forgotten him, and he, had driven up in his red wagon unheralded. but the warmth of his reception made up for any temporary slight. in fact, after supper, when roy related their strange adventures, and told how, if it had not been for wandering william, they might never have reached the camp, wandering william's greeting reached an ovation. but while all this was going on one figure had remained crouched in the circle of firelight--or, rather, just beyond it--whose dark eyes had not for an instant left the face of wandering william. the interested observer was alverado. the mexican puckered his brow as be gazed as if trying to recall something. but the effort seemed to be in vain, for at length he arose and, unnoticed, strode moodily off toward the ponies, which had been tethered high on the hillside and out of sight of the camp. he was gone but a few minutes before he came bounding back into the camp. "the ponies! the ponies are gone!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. in an instant everybody but aunt sally and old mr. bell was upon his or her feet. "gone!" the exclamation came like a dismayed groan. "yes, gone! every one of them! the lariats have been cut. ah, the ladrone, the cursed thieves! the--" "some of red bill's work, for a million!" the exclamation fell sharp and clear from professor wandering william's lips. the tones were so unlike his usual ones that everybody looked up at him. but only for an instant; the next moment the professor had--dropped back into his pompous, drawling way of speaking: "it's a good thing we have a large supply of my wonder working remedies with us," he said; "they induce philosophy, smooth the thorny ways of life and make the old young and the young younger." mr. bell looked at him sternly for an instant, and then apparently decided that the man was a harmless fool, for with a quick exclamation he strode off toward his tent, which lay at some distance from the camp. the others excitedly discussed the alarming turn events had taken, while aunt sally showed strong symptoms of hysterics. but alverado, whose face had taken on a startled expression at wandering william's quick exclamation, darted to the long-haired herb doctor's side. "i know you now, senor, you are--" wandering william caught the man's gesticulating hand with a grasp of iron. "not so loud, alverado," he whispered tensely, "the time isn't ripe for that yet." "but, senor, you will capture them, and--" the mexican's manner had grown deferential, but wandering william checked him with a glance from those keen eyes of his. "don't mention a word of this, alverado. i rely on you." "you can, senor. but hark! what is the matter with the senor bell?" evidently something serious was the matter with the mining man. he came bounding out of the dark shadows of the upper end of the canyon as the mexican spoke. his face was black as thunder. "more villainy!" he exclaimed as questions came pouring in upon him. "something else missing?" it was wandering william. his voice was as emotionless as if he had been a phonograph. "yes, i should say there was. the plans of the mine and its location as prepared for filing have been taken from my tent!" "stolen--oh!" peggy's voice quivered. "stolen," repeated mr. bell, "and undoubtedly by the same band of scoundrels that cut the ponies loose, knowing that we could not pursue them." "but we can overtake them in an aeroplane." it was peggy who spoke. her bosom heaved and her cheeks burned red with excitement. "true, my brave girl," rejoined mr. bell, "but of what use would that be? they have the papers and will file them. without the papers you could do nothing, and i have no memoranda to draw up fresh ones." "but in my pocket--i'm cutting no capers--i have a set of duplicate papers!" old peter bell, triumphant and poetical, stepped forward, at the same time drawing from his inner-coat pocket a bundle. it was the duplicate set which mr. bell had given peggy to deliver to the former hermit, and which, up to that moment, had been forgotten in the excitement. "thank heaven!" exclaimed mr. bell, snatching at them; "peter, you're a brick. hooray, now we have a chance to beat the scoundrels at their own game." "you mean if we can file those papers first they stand good in law?" asked roy. "that's just what i do mean, and i think that with the aeroplane we can do it." "you can depend on it, mr. bell, that if there is a chance those papers get into blue creek first," cried peggy ablaze with excitement. "but we can't start to-night." roy's voice held a note of despair. "that's all right, my boy. you need a good rest anyway. red bill--if it is his gang that has taken them--cannot get to blue creek for two days anyway. if you start at dawn to-morrow you can outwit them." and so it was arranged. roy and peggy turned in early, while jimsy worked all night getting the big monoplane in readiness. by earliest dawn all was ready and a hasty breakfast eaten. then the monoplane was stocked with food and water and everything was ready for the dash across the desert. peggy and roy had slipped into their linen coats and donned their hideous masks with the blue sun goggles, when a figure slipped up on the other side of the chassis and clambered unobserved into the box-like structure. it was not till half an hour later, when they were dashing through midair, that the figure revealed itself. then the form of wandering william crawled from under a bit of canvas used as an engine cover, and in answer to the amazed exclamations of the young aviators said: "you'll have to forgive me. it'll be a good ad for my business to be able to say that professor wandering william has wandered along the aerial pike." chapter xxii marooned on the desert there was nothing to be done but to accept the situation, little as either roy or peggy relished the eccentric "professor" for an aerial traveling companion. only peggy remarked with withering scorn: "i think you might have waited till you were asked, don't you?" the professor's reply was characteristic. "my dear young lady, if i never sold anybody a bottle of my medicine except those that really wanted it i'd have a hard time getting along." roy was on the point of exclaiming "bother your old medicine," when he suddenly recollected that had it not been for this queer personage they might not have been in the aeroplane at all. instead--but roy didn't care to think further along those lines. far below them suddenly appeared a giant halo of light. it hung above the desert, wheeling and gyrating about five feet above the glaring white of the alkali. "a halo," remarked professor wandering william gazing over the edge of the chassis. "a halo? whose--roy's?" inquired peggy. "no, it is one of those halos peculiar to the desert," was the professor's rejoinder; "it is caused by heat refraction or something of the sort. i recall i did read a lengthy explanation of it somewhere once, but i've forgotten it now." "does it portend anything?" asked roy, turning round for a moment from his levers. "no. not that i know of, at least--except that it's hot." "good gracious, we don't need a halo to tell us that," cried peggy, and then regarding professor wandering william with that frank, straight "between the eyes" look, as jimsy called it, peggy remarked, "do you know, professor wandering william, that you are a very odd person?" "odd, my dear young lady. how so?" "why at times you are quite different to--to what you are at others," stumbled peggy lamely. it wasn't just what she wanted to say, but as she told herself it expressed it tolerably. "almost human sometimes, eh?" chuckled professor wandering william with a very odd winkle of his gray eyes; "well, you are not the first person who has said that." to herself peggy thought, "i'm sure that if he'd cut his hair and take off that dreadful goatee he'd be quite good looking. and his eyes, too, they twinkle and flash sometimes in a way very much out of keeping with his general appearance." but professor wandering william, seemingly quite oblivious to peggy's frank gaze, was humming "annie laurie" to himself and gazing down at the flying desert as it flashed by below. "at this rate we'll be in blue creek long before those other varmints," he observed at length; "that is, if all goes right. wonderful things these aeroplanes. great scheme for selling patent medicine. why i could scatter my advertisements over a whole county in a day's time if i had one of these. that is unless i scattered myself first." there was a sudden loud hissing sound from the motor. at the same instant the propeller ceased to revolve and the monoplane dashed downward with fearful force. roy worked at his levers desperately, while peggy, white faced but silent, clung tightly to the sides of the chassis. professor wandering william did not utter a word, but his lips moved, as, from a pleasing rapid forward motion their course suddenly changed to that fearful downward plunge through space. it seemed that in the molecule of time that intervened between the sudden stopping of the propeller and the moment that they reached the proximity of the ground that a whole lifetime flashed in front of peggy. "is this the end?" she caught herself thinking. but it was not. roy's skill averted that. he handled the disabled aeroplane so that as it struck the alkali its landing wheels sustained the shock. but even with all his skill he could not entirely ward off the shock. the monoplane struck the alkali in a shower of white dust that hurtled high above it like a breaking sea wave. peggy and the professor managed to hold on and resist the grinding shock, but roy did not fare so well. like a projectile from a catapult the shock flung him far. he came grinding down into the sand on one shoulder, ploughing a little furrow. then he lay very still, while peggy wondered vaguely if she was going to faint. to scramble from the stranded machine was the work of an instant for the erratic professor, and he extended his hand to peggy. with a supreme effort she pulled herself together and accepted his proffered help. but agitated as she: was, she did not fail to notice a surprising fact, and that was that the professor's hair was on one side! the next instant he caught the girl's startled eyes fixed upon it, but in that space of time he readjusted it, so that he appeared exactly as usual. but to peggy the recollection of that deranged hair was unforgettable. "it's--it's a wig!" she gasped to herself, and then, casting all other thoughts aside, sped to roy's side. "roy! roy! are you badly hurt, dear?" she breathed, going down on her knees in the rough surface of the desert. the boy stirred uneasily and his eyes opened. "oh, is it you, peggy? i guess i was knocked out for a minute. it's my shoulder. ouch! don't touch it." the boy winced as peggy's soft hand touched the injured member. "allow me. i've got a little skill at surgery."' it was professor wandering william's voice, and peggy caught herself wondering that he didn't make some reference to his infallible bone set or wonder-working liniment. but he didn't. instead, he knelt by roy's side, and with a few deft strokes of his knife had cut away the boy's shirt and bared a shoulder that was rapidly turning a deep blue. tenderly as a woman might have, wandering william felt the wound. "hurt?" he asked, as roy winced, biting his lips to keep from crying out under the agony. "hurt?" echoed peggy indignantly; "of course it does." professor wandering william looked up with an odd air of authority in his keen eyes. "please fetch me some water from the aeroplane," he said, and peggy had no choice but to obey. professor wandering william, picking roy up in his arms as if he were a baby, instead of a -pound boy, carried him after her and laid the injured lad out in the scant strip of shade afforded by the aeroplane. then, with bits of canvas ripped from the cover which had served to conceal him when he entered the aerial vehicle, the strange wanderer skillfully bathed and then bandaged the wound. "nothing more than a bad sprain," he announced. roy groaned. "and just as i was going ahead at such tiptop speed, too," he complained. "i won't be able to use this arm for a month the way it feels." "never mind, roy, i can drive the aeroplane," comforted peggy. but roy was fretful from pain. "what can a girl do?" he demanded; "this is a man's work. oh, it's too bad! it's--" suddenly the pain-crazed lad realized what he was saying and broke off abruptly: "don't mind me, sis. i'm all worked up, i guess. but if it hadn't been for this delay we'd have beaten them out. and now--" "and now the first thing to do is to see what ails this old machine," said professor wandering william briskly. "let me lift you into the what-you-may-call-um, my boy, and make you as comfortable as possible on this canvas." the professor skillfully arranged the canvas from which he had cut the bandages, and making a pillow for roy out of his own coat, he lifted the lad into the chassis. "there now, you'll do," he said, as his ministrations were completed. "and now, young lady, as you know more about this thing than i do let's have a look at it and see what particular brand of illness it is suffering from." a brief examination showed peggy that the radiator--the intricate mesh-work of pipes in which the circulating water for cooling the cylinders is kept at a low temperature--was leaking, and that almost all their supply of water had leaked out. this had caused the cylinders of the motor to overheat and had stopped the aeroplane in midair. "bad--is it?"' professor wandering william noted the despairing look on peggy's face as she discovered the cause of the stoppage. "as bad as bad can be," the girl rejoined seriously; "it means if we can't get water and something to stop that leak with that we can't go on or go back. we're stuck right here." "phew!" wandering william's lips puckered in a whistle. "i should just say that is bad." he looked about him. on every side stretched the dazzling white alkali, with here and there a little dust devil dancing as if in mockery at their plight. on all that vast expanse they seemed the only living things, and wandering william knew the desert well enough to realize that it is not good to linger on its treacherous sands. chapter xxiii bud to the rescue "i'm going to look for water!" wandering william spoke decisively after an hour or more of futile endeavors to start the motor with the little fluid they could spare from the water kegs. but even without the leaky radiator it would have been an impossibility to cool the cylinders with the small quantity they were thus able to command. "look for water!" peggy echoed the words blankly. in all that sun-blistered expanse it seemed to be an impossibility to even dream of discovering a drop of moisture. and they needed buckets full. wandering william, perhaps deeming it wise not to strain the over-wrought girl's nerves further by keeping up the conversation, strode off. apparently he wandered aimlessly, but in reality his keen, trained eyes were on the alert every instant. to the desert traveler the most insignificant signs may betray the presence of the life saving fluid. peggy watched the strange figure till it vanished from view over a low rise, for although the desert seems flat on a superficial view, it is, in reality, no more level than the tossing sea. rises and hollows make its surface undulating. in the meantime peggy ministered to roy as best she could. with a spare bit of canvas she made a shelter to keep off the blazing rays of the sun. roy thanked her with a smile. the first sharp keen pain of his injury had gone, but he felt weak and dizzy. presently he begged for a drink of water, and peggy, not daring to tell him how low the supply was gave it to him. the boy was feverish from his injury, and almost drained the canteen of luke-warm stuff she held to his lips. then he lay back with a satisfied smile. "get the radiator fixed yet?" he asked presently. peggy had told him that it would not be long before they were under way again. "not yet, roy dear. but don't worry about that. it will be fixed presently. suppose you try to go to sleep." the boy closed his eyes and tried to compose himself to slumber. before long he actually did doze off and lay in that state while the long hours dragged slowly by. wandering william had not reappeared, and peggy wondered in a dull, vague sort of sort of way if he ever would come back. perhaps he had deserted them, she thought. but, even this reflection brought no poignant sensation of despair. the girl had sunk into a sort of apathy in which nothing' seemed to matter much. only she fairly ached with thirst. but roy would awake presently and want water. the little they had must be saved for him. and so the hours wore on and the sun marched blazingly across the sky. it was mid-afternoon, and roy had not awakened, when peggy was startled from her gloomy thoughts by a loud hail. "hul-lo!" springing to her feet she looked across the desert. on the summit of a distant earth wave she saw the figure of wandering william. he was gesticulating frantically and shouting something. he had his hands to his mouth, funnelwise, to make the sound carry better. what was it he was crying out? it sounded like--yes, it was: "water! i've found it! water!" peggy hastily snatched up the two buckets with which the aeroplane was equipped, and hurried toward the distant figure. she reached wandering william's side in quicker time than she would have thought possible, such was the stimulating effect of the glad news. the strange "professor" said not a word, but took her by the hand and began striding in great steps across the sandy dunes. they had walked about a quarter of a mile when they reached a spot where yuccas and prickly desert plants of different varieties grew thickly. at the bottom of this desolate little valley was a pool on which the sunlight shone glitteringly. it was shallow and warm, and the color of rusty iron, but it was water. taking the folding tin cup that wandering william produced from one of his pockets, the girl drank eagerly. never had sparkling spring, water in the fruitful eastern country tasted half so good as that tepid, dirty alkaline stuff that wandering william had so providentially stumbled upon. "how did you find it?" gasped peggy. wandering william indicated a tumble down sign post a few paces off. to it was nailed board with sun faded lettering on it. "read it," commanded wandering william. "'to the lost in the desert inferno,'" read peggy, "'water is twenty paces to the west.'" "if it hadn't been for the white soul of the man who put that up there," commented the "professor," "we might have perished miserably. heaven bless him, wherever he is." "amen," murmured peggy. they filled the buckets, and staggering under their weight, wandering william led the way back to the aeroplane. roy was awake and thirsty. he drank greedily of the turbid stuff they offered him. "and now," said the professor, "let's get to work on that radiator." but try as they would, they could not stop the leak. indeed, so much water was wasted in their experiments that several more trips to the pool were necessary. "looks like we have run into the worst streak of hard luck i ever heard of," sighed wandering william despairingly, after the failure of the twentieth trial to get the cooling system to hold water. "we've just got to plug that leak somehow, or--" he didn't finish the sentence. there was no need for him to do that. suddenly peggy, who had looked up from the baffling task for an instant, gave a cry: "look! look there! what's all that dust?" "it's horsemen of some kind, and they're coming this way!" cried wandering william. as he spoke his hand slid to his hip, and he drew out his well-oiled and worn old forty-four. "do you think that they are--that they are red bill's men?" "don't know yet. the dust's thick and the light's bad." "if they are?" "then we are in for a mighty bad quarter of an hour. consarn the luck, everything seems to be going wrong at once." on and on swept the dust cloud, growing close with great rapidity. with what anxious feelings the strange herb doctor and the girl watched its advance may be imagined. as for roy, he lay on the floor of the chassis unaware of what was transpiring without. there seemed to be several of the riders--a dozen at least. "what beats me is, if those are red bill's men what are they doing in this direction?" said wandering william, a puzzled look creeping over his weather-beaten countenance. "perhaps they have seen that the aeroplane is stranded and are coming to destroy it," hazarded peggy. "maybe," rejoined wandering william in a far-away voice. his eyes and mind were bent on the approaching cavalcade. if the riders were not red bill's men it meant succor and aid. if they were the outlaw's band, it meant-well, wandering william did not care to dwell upon the thought. "a few seconds will tell now," he observed as through the dust cloud the outlines of the horsemen became visible. all at once a shrill series of cries rang out: "yip-yip-yip-yee-ee-e-e-e-e-e-e!" there was something familiar in the sound to peggy. she leaned forward, straining her ears. suddenly an active little bronco seemed to separate from the ruck of the riders and dashed forward alone. on his back sat a familiar figure and not a beautiful one, but to peggy no angel from heavenly regions could have appeared more, beatific just then, for in the rider she had recognized the redoubtable bud, the leader of the horse hunters. bud swept off his sombrero as he dashed up, and was apparently about to make some jocular remark, but he stopped short at the sight of peggy's pale, anxious face. "wa-al, what's all ther trouble hyar?" he demanded; "your sky bronco foundered? why hello, thar's wandering william. didn't know as you was a sky pilot feller?" "i'm not, i guess," rejoined wandering william quietly. "i wish i were, and then may be i could help out on this difficulty." "wa-al, what's up?" drawled bud, as his followers came loping up; "anything i kin do? we're on our way back to ther hills frum town," he explained. "we caught more than twenty wild horses and took'em inter blue creek. one of ther boys sighted you away off or we'd have missed yer i reckin. "now, miss, i ain't one ter fergit a blow-out like thet yer gave us at steer wells. jes say ther word an' if you like we'll tow this here cloud clipper back inter town." "let's see if we can't hit on a way of fixing it first," said wandering william; "you see," he explained to bud, "the radiator--" "hyar, hold on thar. talk united states language. what's wrong with this arrangement meter. "it's sprung a leak," volunteered peggy; "look here, you can see for yourself. the hole is tiny, but it's big enough to let out all the water that we need to cool the cylinders." "humph," said bud crossing his hands on the horn of his saddle and gazing abstractedly at the leak, "what you need is solder," he announced presently. "if we'd had any we'd been out of here long ago," rejoined peggy, as roy, hearing the unusual noise, peered over the edge of the chassis. "hullo, kid; what's biting you?" demanded the breezy bud. "guess i'm out of commission for a while," rejoined roy bravely. peggy hastily explained the accident, and then, as she saw no harm in doing so, she gave bud a hasty sketch of the events leading up to their being marooned on the alkali. "so you're after that ornery varmint, red bill, are yer?" remarked bud as she concluded; "wa-al i'll do all in my power to help you. i've bin a studyin' that thar leak while you was a talkite. what you need is suthin' to stop it up." "obviously," said peggy with a trace of annoyance in her tone. "now don't git riled, fer i've hit on a scheme ter git yer out of yer troubles." bud shoved back his sombrero and gazed triumphantly at the astonished girl aviator. chapter xxiv what chewing gum did "but, bud, how?" "easy enough. hyar," he exclaimed, looking back at the horsemen behind him, "whar's that dude chick berry?" "here i be, bud," replied a small, freckle-faced cowboy with blue silk ribbons on his shirt sleeves and other marks of the cowboy dude about him. "got any of that thar gum you's always achewin' so as ter be agreeable to ther ladies?" demanded bud. "shore, bud," rejoined chick, pulling off an embroidered gauntlet and extracting a pink package from his breast pocket. "wall, chaw some quick, and chaw it good. i need it." chick's jaws worked overtime. presently he handed a small wad of glutinous gum to his leader. "na-ow then," announced bud, dismounting, "i'm goin' ter show you a hurry up repair job." he squatted, cow-boy fashion, in front of the radiator, and with deft fingers pressed the gum into the leak. "let it dry a minute an' i'll bet ye that what-you-may-call-um will be as tight as a drum. no, don't give me no credit fer ther idee. i seen a feller fix his gasoline gig that way one day when i was down in san antone," at the expiration of a few anxious minutes, water was poured into the radiator, and, to their immense relief, bud's hastily contrived bit of plumbing worked. the radiator held water perfectly and a few moments later peggy started the engine. but at the first revolutions of the propellers a strange thing happened. on the spot where, a second before, had stood a group of interested horse hunters, not one remained after the propeller had whizzed round a couple of times. they were scattered all over the desert, their ponies maddened beyond all control by terror at the noise and smoke of the aeroplane's motor. bud alone managed to spur his pony close to the throbbing machine. "good bye and good luck!" he shouted, and waved his hat. the next instant his pony swung round on its hind legs and dashed off to join its terrified companions. with an answering wave of the hand peggy threw in the clutch that started the aeroplane forward, and after their long enforced delay they once more took the air. but a day had practically gone--a day in which the fight for the mine might have been lost. never had peggy urged an aeroplane to greater speed than she did the fast monoplane, at the wheel of which she was now stationed. the desert floor flew by beneath them in a dull blur. the roar and vibration of the powerful motor shook the car like a leaf. wandering william said nothing, but he gazed rather apprehensively over the side from time to time. also he might have been observed to clutch at his hair occasionally. "can you see anything of the town yet?" the professor leaned forward and shouted the question in peggy's ear. he had to do so in order to make himself heard above the roar of the engine. peggy shook her head, but motioned to a pocket in which were a pair of field-glasses. wandering william understood, and raising them, held them to his eyes. the sun was low and a reddish haze overhung the desert. but presently into the field of the binoculars there swung a-tall water tower. it marked the site of blue creek. "i've got it," cried the observer; "swing off to the right a bit." obediently the big flying thing turned and rushed through the air toward the distant landmark. "i can see the place now," cried peggy. "pray heaven we'll be in time." she tried to put on more speed, but already the big monoplane was doing all it could, and a more. under their hood the cylinders were smoking. there was a smell of blistered paint about the aerial craft. but peggy never slackened speed for an instant. with the time that had been lost with the leaky radiator, she knew it was possible that red bill's men were already in the town. if she had known that a speedy automobile had met the stealers of the location papers in mid-desert that afternoon and rushed them into blue creek she might have given up in despair. but, she knew nothing of red bill's ruse, and imagined that the trip with the stolen papers had been made on horseback all the way. fifteen minutes after the little settlement been first sighted the aeroplane soared roofs in a long, graceful swing, and then swooped to earth in front of the national house. cash and the usual group of loungers came rushing out in huge excitement. "it's an airship! come and see the airship!" the cry spread through the town like wildfire. in five minutes quite a large crowd was swirling and surging about the machine and its anxious occupants. "whar's the united states assayer's office?" demanded wandering william, above the hubbub and excitement. "why it's two blocks to the right an' down that alley," volunteered cash; "you're the second party as has bin askin' fer it ter day." peggy's heart sank and wandering william bit his lips. from the bottom of the chassis roy demanded: "are we too late?" "we don't know yet, roy dear," peggy found time to whisper, and then: "who else was looking for the assayer?" "feller in a big automobile. all dust-covered, too. said he had a claim ter file." wandering william actually groaned. but cash went on speaking. "funny, all this rush of business should come ter day." "how's that?" inquired wandering william for want of something better to say. "why 'cause ther assay office is closed up. jim dallam, as ran it, his mother is dead, an' he got leave ter go back east. ther nearest assay office now is at monument rocks sixty miles east of hyar." straw of hope as it was they clutched at it eagerly. there might be a train leaving within a reasonable time: "can we get a train there?" asked wandering william eagerly bending forward. "reckon ye're jes' too late; one pulled out half an hour ago." "did--did the man with the red auto catch it?" asked peggy breathlessly. "yes, mum--miss, i mean. he allowed he was going ter git them papers filed or bust." the blow had fallen. peggy sat numb and limp in the chassis. but presently the necessity of attending to roy aroused her from her lethargy. under her directions the boy was removed to a bed in the hotel and a doctor sent for. the physician lived in the hotel, so no time was lost before he was at roy's bedside. he had finished his examination and had pronounced the injury painful, but not dangerous, when, without ceremony, wandering william burst into the room. "we can make it yet! we can make it yet!" he was shouting. the doctor looked up as if he thought he had another patient and a maniac to deal with. "i--i beg your pardon," stammered wandering william, "but this is a vital matter to this young lady and gentleman." "yes--yes, what is it?" asked peggy eagerly. her eyes burned with eagerness and suppressed excitement. something in wandering william's manner seemed to say that he had found a way out of their difficulties. "i've made inquiries," he repeated, "and i've found out that the train to monument rocks makes several stops. there's just a chance that we can beat it in the aeroplane." "you can!" roy raised himself up in bed despite the pain. "i think so. but we must hurry." "sis, do you mean you are going to try it?" "of course. we must." "then go in and win," cried the boy; "you can follow the tracks by the lights and once you overtake the train the rest will be easy." the amazed doctor fairly dropped his case of instruments at this whirlwind dialogue. "but--what--why--bless my soul," he gasped, but only the first part of his remarks was heard by peggy. followed by wandering william she dashed from the room and into the street. in front of the hotel cash was having a hard time keeping souvenir hunters from the aeroplane. but a pair of blue revolvers, like miniature gatling guns, acted as powerful dissuaders of curiosity. chapter xxv a race through the night "all right. stand clear, please!" the aeroplane had been tuned up, and now, panting like an impatient horse, it was ready to be off on its dash for monument rocks. but the crowd stupidly clustered about it like bees round a rose bush. the delay was maddening, but peggy dared not start for fear of injuring someone. "won't you please stand aside?" she begged for the twentieth time, but the crowd just as obstinately lingered. suddenly an idea came to her. she cut out the mufflers and instantly a deafening series of reports, like a battery of gatling guns going into action, filled the air. tense as the situation was, neither peggy nor wandering william on the rear seat could keep from laughing as they saw the effect the bombardment of noise had. the inhabitants of blue creek literally tumbled all over each other in their haste to get out of the way. five seconds after the deafening uproar commenced a clear path was presented, and, before the crowd could get used to the sound and come surging around again, peggy started the aeroplane up. amid a mighty shout it took the air and vanished like a flash in the gathering dusk. the race against time was on. fortunately the telegraph poles along the right of way acted as guides, for, in the gathering darkness, the tracks were hardly visible. peggy did not dare to fly too low, however, for it was only in the upper air currents that the monoplane could develop its best speed. but even with all her care she pressed the machine too hard, for half an hour after their departure from blue creek they had to alight to allow the cylinders to cool. bud's makeshift stop for the leak, however, was acting splendidly, and peggy mentally stored it away as a good idea for future use. the delay was annoying to the point of being maddening, but there was no help for it. to have taken the air with heated cylinders would have been to court disaster. while they waited out in the lonely nevada hills beside the single-track railroad, peggy's mind held a lively vision of the train speeding toward monument rocks and the assay office, bearing with it the stolen papers carried by red bill's agent. at last, after what seemed an eternity, they were ready to start once more. peggy lost no time in taking to the air. with her every cylinder developing its full horse power, the aeroplane sky-rocketed upward at a rate that made wandering william hold on for dear life. "w-w-w-what speed are we making?" the question was jolted out of the passenger. "about sixty," peggy flung back at him. "then we ought to overtake the train. i understand it only makes forty-five even on the most favorable bits of road, and the tracks are pretty rough out in this part of the country." on through the night they roared. it was quite dark now, and peggy had switched on the search light with which the aeroplane was provided. it cast a white pencil of light downward, showing the parallel bands of steel. somewhere ahead of them, on those tracks, was the train. but how far ahead? as yet no gleam of its tail lights had come through the darkness. all at once peggy gave a triumphant cry. "look!" she cried. "it's the train!" far ahead gleamed two tiny red lights. they glowed through the darkness like the eyes of some wild animal. but the occupants of the aeroplane knew they were the tail lights of the train that was carrying the stolen papers to monument rocks. peggy tried to put on still more speed, but the aeroplane was doing its best. but fast as it was going, it seemed to crawl up on the train at a snail pace. the tail lights still kept far ahead. but although the gain was slow, it was, steady. before another dozen miles had been passed peggy was flying above the train. in the glare of the furnaces as the fireman jerked the doors open, peggy could see the engineer and his mate gazing up at them with something of awe in their expressions. aeroplanes were not as common in the far west as in the east. suddenly the girl noticed a figure emerge from the forward door of the front coach and clamber over the tender and drop lightly into the cab. a sudden gleam from the fire door served to light his features. peggy recognized him instantly as the tall "romantic bandit," the one with the red sash. the girl saw him lean toward the engineer and thrust something into his hand. it looked like a roll of bills. the next instant the train's speed perceptibly increased. it was all the aeroplane could do to keep up with it. "he's given the engineer money, to go faster," exclaimed wandering william. the tall figure now crawled back on the tender and gazed upward. his hand glided back to his hip. the next moment there was a flash, and a bullet zipped wickedly through the air past peggy's ear. "the coyote, he's firing at us!" cried wandering william. z-i-n-g! another bullet sang by the speeding aeroplane. apparently the fireman and the engineer could not hear the shooting above the noise of the flying engine, for they did not turn their heads. presently the fireman began shoveling on coal at a terrific rate. sparks and flame shot from the smokestack of the locomotive. they streaked the night with fire. "is he trying to kill us?" exclaimed peggy as another shot winged past. "i hardly think he'd risk that," rejoined wandering william, "but what he's up to is almost as bad. he's trying to disable the aeroplane." but before another could be fired the train began to slacken speed. ahead and below the aeroplane could be seen a cluster of lights. "monument rocks!" exclaimed wandering william; "here's where we play the hand out." peggy, keeping a bright lookout for a good landing place, presently espied a sort of plaza in the center of the town. it was brilliantly illuminated by a number of arc lights and offered a fine spot for landing. she decided to risk a quick drop and swung the aeroplane downward at a rapid gait. as the whirring of the propeller--like the drone of a giant locust--resounded over the town, people came pouring out from houses and shops to witness the descent. the crowd gathered so quickly that peggy had difficulty to avoid hitting some of them. however, she managed to bring the aeroplane to a standstill without an accident. a local policeman came up as they stopped, and to him peggy entrusted the machine. followed by wandering william she darted off across the plaza and made for a cab stand immediately across it and just outside the depot. as she rushed up to the solitary rickety hack that was standing there and was about to step in a tall figure came rushing out of the station. the train had just pulled in, and long before its wheels had stopped revolving he had leaped from it. "get to one side," he shouted, grabbing peggy's arm roughly and swinging her aside. "i guess i'm first on this deal." "what do you mean," demanded peggy angrily; "i had this cab first." "but now i dispossess you of it this way!" the ruffian had his hand raised to strike when something happened. a lithe, muscular form glided under the upraised fist, and the next moment there was a sharp crack as the newcomer's fist collided with the other's chin. he went staggering backward and fell in a heap on the sidewalk. a tall man with a broad brimmed hat came bustling up, followed by a small crowd attracted from the aeroplane by the disorder. "here, here, what's all this?" demanded the tall man in an authoritative tone. "what does this mean?" "that this man i've just knocked down is under arrest for participation in the laredo stage robbery and for numerous other crimes, including the larceny of some location papers he was about to file." the words came from an athletic young man who had felled peggy's assailant. the girl looked up at him. in the electric light there was something familiar and yet strangely unfamiliar about his features, and his keen, kindly eyes. "why," exclaimed peggy wonderingly, "it's--it's--" "wandering william, minus his wig and goatee, otherwise sam kelly, of the united states secret service," rejoined the other with a merry laugh. "i guess i'll go out of the doctor business now, since i've nabbed one of the men i was after. now then, you rascal," addressing the "romantic bandit," who had scrambled to his feet, "where are the rest of red bill's precious gang?" "i don't know," sullenly rejoined the prisoner. "oh, yes you do; but first of all give me those papers." "what papers?" "the ones you brought here to file in the assay office." "i don't know what you're talking about." "yes you do. come now, or i'll ask the sheriff to search you." with a very bad grace the outlaw dove into his pocket and handed over a bundle of papers. wandering will--we mean detective sam kelly--took them and handed them to peggy. "those are more yours than mine," he said; "we'll file them in the morning or at any time there's no hurry now." "now then," he resumed, turning to the tall outlaw whose arms were held by two of the sheriff's deputies, "are you going to answer my question, where is red bill and the rest of them now?" "where you can't reach 'em in time to queer their game," came in a voice of sullen triumph; "they're at jim bell's mine picking up gold and silver." chapter xxvi besieged--conclusion the sun rose redly and shone down into the arroyo on a group of sleepless, anxious persons. as the tall bandit had triumphantly announced, jim bell's mine was besieged. since the evening before armed horsemen had surrounded it, but so far the little garrison had held out. if red bill had had any idea that he was going to find mr. bell an easy prey he must have revised his opinion. but he knew that it was only a question of time till he could starve him out and take possession of the mine. he was unaware of the departure of the aeroplane for blue creek, otherwise he might have kept a better look out. "i wonder if they got through?" it was mr. bell who spoke, making a brave attempt at indifference to the danger that hedged them in. before anyone could reply a figure on horse-back appeared at the head of the arroyo. it was red bill himself. on his ankle was a bandage, but his amazing vitality had left no other traces of the bite of the rattlesnake. "wa-al, jim bell," he demanded, "for the third an' last time, air you goin' ter give in peaceable? ain't no sense in holding out. we've got your stock. we'll tap your water hole if we can strike the vein and it won't take us long. we've got you whar we want you, an' if you've got ther brains uv a yearling calf you'll throw up the sponge and give us the mine." "not while i can raise a hand to fight you," rejoined jim bell boldly. "ah! i might have expected some such trick!" a bullet had whizzed past his ear and flattened itself on the rock behind the mining man. if he had not caught the quick movement of red bill's arm just in time the moment might have been his last. "that's just a taste of what you'll git if you try to stick it out," bellowed red bill, and wheeling his horse he rode off. two or three times that morning jimsy tried the experiment of raising a hat on a rifle barrel above the top of the little canyon. each time a bullet pierced it, showing that the place was well watched. miss sally lay on her cot in her tent. the venerable new england lady was literally half-dead from fright. alverado, sullen eyed and apathetic, strode up and down the canyon all day muttering threats he was powerless to carry out. jess, wide-eyed and white-faced, but brave, did her share of the work and kept jimsy and mr. bell cheered up as well as she could. but the suspense of awaiting the return of peggy and roy was the hardest to bear. if they had gotten through safely and the papers were filed, then, even if red bill captured the mine he could not work it. a few nuggets would be his reward. but if the aeroplane had been disabled or had reached blue creek too late, why then red bill held all the cards. mr. bell had reasoned this out with himself over and over again, while his brother sat, staring and disconsolate, playing endless games of solitaire. it was past noon when jimsy, who had taken an observation between two rocks, which acted as a bullet-proof sentry box, announced that the forces of the outlaws seemed to be massing. "looks as if they were going to make an attack," he said. mr. bell clambered up and speedily confirmed the correctness of jimsy's opinion. "get everything ready," he ordered; "there's just a chance we can stand them off. if not, we'll have to trust to their mercy." a clatter of hoofs sounded above the arroyo and the next instant several horsemen appeared. without knowing just what he was doing jimsy, who had a rifle in his hands, pulled the trigger. he was amazed to see the giant form of red bill totter and reel in the saddle, and fall with a crash to the ground. the next instant horror at the idea that he had killed the man seized on him. his hands shook so that he almost dropped the rifle. but there was little time for reflection. the sight of their leader's downfall seemed to drive the other outlaws to frenzy. they poured a leaden hail into the arroyo that must have exterminated every living thing in it if they had not sought shelter behind a mighty mass of boulders. hardly had they crouched there in temporary safety, before, far above them, came a familiar sound. the giant droning of an enormous beetle was what it seemed to resemble most. but jess and jimsy recognized it instantly. "an aeroplane!" shouted jess. "it's peggy and roy!" cried jimsy the next instant. looking upward against the blue was outlined the scarab-like form of the monoplane. at the same moment a terrific trampling of horses' hoofs sounded above. shots and shouts rang out in wild confusion. "what can be happening?" gasped jess. even aunt sally, cowering in her tent, summoned courage to peek forth. the sight they saw was an inspiring one. bud and his horse hunters were riding down the outlaws in every direction. while this was going on, the aeroplane swung lower. from it there stepped as it alighted, not roy and peggy, but peggy and a strange young man whom nobody recollected having seen before. without a word he bounced from the chassis as the aeroplane struck the ground, and, revolver in hand, set off in hot pursuit of bud and his men, who, from horse hunters, had become man hunters. the outlaws, outnumbered and outridden, were fain to cry for quarter. with the exception of three who escaped, the whole band was rounded up and made prisoners. red bill, who proved to be only slightly wounded, was captured by sam kelly himself. the presence of the horse hunters on the scene at the opportune moment was soon explained by peggy, who spent a busy hour relating all that had occurred since they left the camp. roy, she explained, was still at the hotel in blue creek, but mending rapidly. she and the detective had encountered the horse hunters as the aeroplane was on its return journey, and, guessing from the tall bandit's story that the camp in the arroyo must be besieged, they enlisted the services of bud and his followers. there seems to be little more to tell of this portion of the girl aviators' adventures. the mine, in the developing of which they had played such striking parts, proved to be rich beyond even mr. bell's dreams, and when additional claims were taken up each of the young airship enthusiasts found that he or she had substantial shares in them. the aeroplane line from the mine to the railroad, which had been mr. bell's original idea, proved to be a great success. under roy's tuition three young aviators, who were brought from the east, were instructed in managing their lines. alverado, it will be recalled, recognized sam kelly as an old acquaintance during lawless times in mexico--he has been appointed to a position in the government service, where he has done good work in aiding to rid the big alkali of the rascals that formerly infested it. as for our young friends, when the aeroplane line was well established, they returned to the east, as aunt sally firmly refused to remain any longer in the far west, which she always scripturally refers to as a land of "the wicked and stiff-necked." but their adventures were by no means over, as perhaps might be expected in the case of those who dare the air in fast flying machines. their experience on the great nevada desert was not destined to be the only time that the girl aviators and their chums proved their worth in seasons of danger and necessity. stirring aerial adventures lay ahead of them, still more exciting than the ones they had encountered while "on golden wings." what these were, and how our girls and boys acquitted themselves in facing and surmounting fresh difficulties and dangers--as well as their lighter moments--will be related in full in the next volume of this series: "the girl aviators' sky cruise." the end the boy scouts of the flying squadron by scout master robert shaler contents chapters i. the two wolf patrol boys ii. a camp supper iii. the mysterious explosion iv. reading a "sign" by torchlight v. the "fool-proof" aeroplane vi. a red letter day in the woods vii. bud's meteor viii. uncle sam's flying squadron ix. friends in khaki x. up in a war monoplane xi. good-by to the foreign spies xii. home again chapter i the two wolf patrol boys "i want to own up that i'm pretty nearly all in and done for!" "same here, bud. the going was tough over that frozen side of old stormberg mountain. then we are carrying such loads into the bargain." "for one, i'm glad we are nearly there, hugh." "yes, another steady pull and we ought to strike the shanty. we aimed to get to it by nightfall, you remember, bud." "yes, and after eating such a big thanksgiving dinner, we've been pretty spry to accomplish all we have. why, i haven't had a pull anything like this since we broke camp last summer up at pioneer lake!" "and we never could have done it only for the lift we got from farmer badgely, going home from market. that put us some miles on the way. if you've rested enough, bud, perhaps we would better be on the move again. the sun is getting close to the diving line, you notice." "here goes, then!" with these words bud morgan, first-class scout and one of the leading boys in the wolf patrol, inserted his arms in the loops of the pack he was handling, and managed to heave it on to his sturdy back. his companion did likewise, for each of them was "toting" much more than the customary amount of luggage that a scout on the hike would carry with him. this comrade was an agile chap, about the same weight as bud, but with a wide-awake expression on his face that let everybody know in the start that he was one of those born leaders who forge to the front through circumstances often beyond their control. hugh hardin was not only leader of the wolf patrol. sometimes he had been deputized to act in place of the regular scout master of the troop, when lieutenant denmead and assistant rawson chanced to be called away and could not serve. so well had hugh carried out his task on such occasions, it was generally accepted as a foregone conclusion that in case the latter officer resigned, as he had lately given hints of doing, hugh would be elected in his stead. there might be a few boys in the troop, now consisting of four patrols, who would prefer to see alec sands, leader of the otters, placed in that elevated position, but his popularity was confined to his particular chums, while that of hugh embraced members of every patrol. on this day, hugh and bud had started from home immediately after partaking of a glorious thanksgiving feast. as all preparations had been made for this trip up into the wilderness many miles above the home town, it was evident that they had a particular object in view; which, in fact, was the case. bud morgan was rather given to conjuring up new and sometimes startling inventions. these he usually tried upon some of his mates and not always in a fashion to add to their peace of mind, either. on more than one occasion in the past they had been suddenly confronted by some innovation that for the moment rather demoralized the valiant wearers of the scout khaki. bud had not been very successful in his wonderful inventions. they were apt to disappoint him in the severe testing out. theory might be all very well, but when it came to practice there was generally a screw loose in his figuring that could not be tightened; and, in consequence, trouble often perched on bud's shoulders. during the late summer and early autumn he had been working on some idea that seemed to have taken hold of his mind to a greater extent than any previous effort had ever done. his chums knew of it, but no one had been able to coax bud to let them share his confidence. when the time came that bud could not contain his secret any longer, he had gone to the leader of his patrol and confessed. at the same time he managed to interest hugh to such an extent that the other promised to go off with him during the few days of grace granted by the school authorities around "turkey-eating time" in late november, so as to give his new invention at least a fair trial. and this was why they had started so soon after the annual big dinner, which fact in itself spoke volumes for the grit and determination of the two lads. few boys would have been in condition to walk three miles during the balance of the day. they knew one fellow at least, billy worth, also a wolf scout, who was so fond of eating that doubtless at this very moment he was stretched out at full length on the sofa in his den at home, trying to figure how ever he could partake of supper after disposing of such a stupendous amount of turkey and fixings. in the previous stories of this series, the reader who may have been fortunate enough to peruse them has come to know both hugh and bud pretty well. they have been followed through many adventures calculated to prove their worth as scouts, and, taken on the whole, it will be admitted that in most cases the boys carried off the honors. in the wolf patrol, as well as among the otters, hawks, and foxes, there were other lads who were also animated by the same sort of progressive spirit, and who never allowed an opportunity to improve their minds or to broaden their knowledge of nature escape them. after taking up their heavy burdens again, hugh and his comrade walked on for some time through the woods. the leaves were well off the trees, though the oaks still held their brown mantle, being the very last to shed their summer coat. it had frozen quite hard for several nights previous, and some of the town boys had cherished vague hopes that there might be ice for the thanksgiving holidays, a custom that used to prevail years before, according to the accounts given by their parents. as yet, however, only a covering an inch or so thick had settled on the ponds, and of course the running river showed no signs of congealing, so that skating would have to be postponed to a later date. around the two scouts there lay a complete wilderness of trees. had they searched high and low it is doubtful whether they could have found a more lonely spot within twenty miles of home. stormberg mountain, on which many of their previous adventures had taken place, reared its peak on the right; and rainbow lake was within two miles of their present location. in selecting this place for their little outing, bud had probably figured that the chances of their being disturbed or spied upon by any of the curious town boys would be very slight. and, like all modest inventors, bud was very shy about showing off until he could be certain that he had actually something worth talking about to display. the sun had seemed to hesitate upon the horizon, but now it took a sudden dip below the earth's rim, and bud exclaimed: "say, did you see the sun just slide out of sight then, as though he was ashamed to leave us in the dark? this place has all grown up since i was here last, so i hope we'll get to the shack before night really sets in." "we will all right, bud, so don't worry any," laughed hugh, whose aim it seemed to be to take things as philosophically as possible, especially when they could not be changed. "right now i'm beginning to recognize some familiar things around us. there is that chestnut that has thrown out three young suckers. when it gets big, it will make a land-mark worth talking about. i noticed it the last time i was through these woods." "yes, like as not," grumbled bud, who was very tired, "if the old chestnut bug that's killing all the trees in the next county doesn't get up here next year and put the kibosh on our fine nut trees for keeps. oh! look at that rabbit spin out of that brush pile! he's on the jump, let me tell you! hugh, i'm beginning to recognize some things around here, too, that i remember must have been close to the shack. there's the meadow clearing that i had in my mind when choosing to come away up here to try out my latest wonder. yes, and as sure as anything, i can hear the singing of that little waterfall just below the big spring." "it seems to tell _me_ that i'm thirsty enough to stop and get a drink before going on. the shack lies just back of that screen of trees and bushes, anyway," hugh remarked, as he turned slightly aside and headed directly toward the quarter from whence that melodious song arose. apparently bud was of the same mind, for he instantly followed suit. in another minute both scouts had deposited their packs on the hard ground and were kneeling at the rim of the little basin where the clear water, bubbling up from the sand, ran away in a busy stream that as yet had not felt the chilling hand of jack frost. each boy produced a collapsible metal cup with which he could dip into the sparkling spring. this is a much better way than bending down and sucking in great quantities of water, without knowing what impurities may be swallowed. some scouts on their tramps even carry a small filtering stone such as is used in the army, and this is considered a wise precaution by thoughtful scout masters. "well, that tastes pretty fine," remarked bud, after he had drunk his fill and carefully replaced his cup in its receptacle; "and now to get under cover. i reckon the very first thing we ought to attend to is getting a supply of wood indoors, so as to make the old shanty feel comfortable. i never think of a camp without seeing a camp fire as the best thing in it. it is that that binds scouts together more than any other part of the outdoor game, i think. does it strike you that way, too, hugh?" "yes, i came to that conclusion," replied the leader of the wolf patrol, "after watching how anxious the boys always were to get plenty of fuel ready long before night came. then you know a fire stands for grub time, too, and that always appeals to scouts who have done lots of things during the day to tire themselves out." "that's so, i've had heaps of fun just watching billy worth's eyes dance while he hauled firewood into camp. with every armful he seemed to be saying, 'there, that's going to help cook our supper to-night! and we're going to have fried onions, and potatoes and ham omelette!' i had half a notion to ask billy to come along with us on this trip, but somehow i hated to think of the fun he'd poke at me in case my wonderful invention turned out to be a fizzle, like so many of them have in the past. i knew _you_ wouldn't give me away, hugh, if that happened,---and if i lived to tell the tale! well, i hope i can get my pack on my back again for the last hundred feet; but it comes harder every time. thanks awfully for the poke, hugh; it did the business. now i'm in harness and ready to go on." the two weary scouts staggered more or less as they started to push through the last barrier of trees and brush. they knew that they would speedily discover the long deserted shack there among the second growth thicket of young trees. indeed, it was hardly half a minute later when bud came to a sudden halt, at the same time saying in a hoarse whisper: "hugh, look there, will you? there's a light in the shanty! what do you think of the meanness of that? after we've come all the way up here just to keep to ourselves, then to find somebody camping on the ground! shucks! it makes me feel as if it was a bad omen, and right in the start, too!" chapter ii a camp supper the two boys stood there looking for a full minute. hugh had discovered the presence of a light in the cabin about the same time that bud mentioned the fact. it could be seen shining through the aperture that had once been used as a window. there was no glass in this now, and a heavy shutter, hung on rusty hinges, gave the only means of keeping out the cold air, though this had not been closed by the unknown party within. "whoever can it be?" muttered the disgusted bud, doubtless begrudging that long tramp from the road where the friendly farmer had dropped them. "perhaps some one who's thinking of using the old shanty as headquarters while trapping this season," hugh replied. "you know ralph kenyon used to take quite a lot of pelts around this region before he joined the scouts and changed his mind about that sort of thing." "then you don't think it could be a hobo?" queried bud with a relieved vein in his voice. "well, tramps nearly always stick close to the railroads, you know," the other observed with the air of one who had made it a point to take note of such happenings; "and besides, what hobo would think of wandering away up here so far from a base of supplies? but we can settle all that easy enough, bud." "by going on and breaking in on him, you mean?" questioned the other eagerly. "yes, though perhaps first of all we'd do well to creep up and take a look in at that opening. a scout should be sure of his ground before he takes a leap. it isn't always so easy to go back again." "all right, hugh, let's start right in and have a squint at him. seems to me i get a whiff of cooking, don't you?" "yes, i noticed that, bud; and also that he's got a fire burning in there. you can see it flicker, and that wouldn't happen if the light came from a lantern, or even from a torch." "smells good, too. that fellow knows how to cook, whoever he is," remarked the other scout, sniffing eagerly at the air as he spoke. hours had passed since dinner-time and they had had a hard tramp. they advanced quickly though cautiously. their hearts were beating faster than usual, perhaps because they had been carrying heavy loads. then again there was a chance that the moment's excitement had considerable to do with the quickening of their pulses. arriving alongside the wall of the lonely cabin that had been built many years before by a man who meant to start a farm up in this region, the boys hastened to glue their eyes to the opening. what they saw astonished them and at the same time relieved their feelings. there was but a single occupant of the cabin, and he a boy about their own age, also dressed in the khaki uniform of a scout. he was busily engaged in cooking some supper, and apparently did not suspect the presence of any one near by. "why, it's ralph kenyon!" gasped bud. "whatever can he be doing all by himself up here?" hugh could give a guess. he knew that in times past the young chap in question had made it a practice to trap the little wild animals that might still be found in the woods and swamps of that region, for the sake of the money he could get for their fine furry pelts. this was before he joined the scouts, which was soon after valuable ore had been discovered on the kenyon farm and a strip of land sold to the railroad, these transactions placing the family on a secure financial foundation. evidently as the cold weather came on, ralph had been tempted to wander over to his old stamping-grounds, not to set traps as of yore or shoot any of the timid woods' animals for the sake of their warm coats, but just to revive old recollections. he had evidently fetched his double-barrel shotgun along with him, since it stood in a corner; and he was evidently cooking a brace of fat quail which he must have managed to knock down on his trip up here. from the way he cocked his head just then it seemed as though ralph must have thought he had heard some strange sound. perhaps bud had spoken louder than he had meant to do. but then there was no need of further holding back. ralph was a member of the same troop as themselves, and while perhaps bud would have preferred not increasing the number of witnesses to his own triumph or rank failure, he saw that it could not be helped. and bud was one of those who can make the best of a bad bargain. besides, ralph was a good fellow, and generally well liked by his companions. instead of calling out and telling the boy inside the shack that a couple of weary wayfarers had arrived and meant to join him, hugh saw fit to give the recognized signal of the wolves: "_how-oo-oo_!" twice repeated. then as ralph sprang to the door to take away the prop with which he had secured it, hugh and bud pushed into the interior of the cabin. ralph stared at them but seemed decidedly pleased, for he instantly thrust out his hand in friendly greeting. "well, well, who'd think you would drop in on me as if you came from the skies?" he was saying as he worked hugh's arm like a milkman's pump handle. "you see, i've been coming out here for several years every thanksgiving afternoon to set my first traps of the season; and while i don't expect ever to do it again, i just couldn't keep from spending one night in the woods to revive old recollections. but i'm tickled to death at the idea of having company, for it does get mighty lonesome sometimes. whatever are you doing up here, hugh and bud?" so, as hugh waited for his companion to explain, bud began to tell how he had been up to his old tricks again and believed that he had invented something that was going to be a stunning success; also, that he had coaxed accommodating hugh to go off with him in order to try it out in secret. "of course, since we find you in possession of the shanty where we meant to put up for one or two nights," bud continued, with a grin, "why, i'll have to let you share my secret tomorrow when we start to try it out. till then don't ask questions and i'll tell you no lies. and i want to inform you right now that what you're cooking for supper sets my nerves on edge, it smells so good." "that's lucky," remarked ralph, "for i have just four more fat juicy quail on hand. i made a double shot into a covey that got up in the brush. if you fellows say the word, i'll start right away to get them ready for the pan." "you'll do nothing of the kind," chuckled hugh, who, like bud, had deposited his burden in a corner, "we're only too glad of a chance to help pluck a few feathers ourselves. it's enough that you make us a present of what you meant probably to take home to your mother." "oh! i can get others later on," observed ralph, as he pointed to the little heap of brown and black feathers which marked the spot where the unused birds lay. "you see, she's not feeling very well, my mother, i mean, and somehow quail on toast always appeals to her. but while you're working there, let me make more coffee. have you got cups and such things along in your packs, boys?" "we have," declared the overjoyed bud; "and this bird is just prime; never saw a fatter one, i declare. say, hugh, we didn't expect such a bully treat as this, did we, when we aimed to get here in time to cook supper?" preparations progressed rapidly. as ralph had already stowed away quite a large quantity of wood for use during the night, that labor was spared the two late arrivals, which fact pleased bud very much. he could work as hard as the next one when interested in what he was doing, but gathering fuel had never appealed to him in the same way it did to billy worth, who was all the time figuring out what splendid things the wood could be used to cook. as the three boys sat around eating the evening meal, they chatted in a lively manner. hugh told how he and bud had had a fine lift by means of the farmer's wagon, and then continued: "i suppose you started this morning, and on that account missed your thanksgiving turkey, ralph? but you said your mother was not feeling well; and so perhaps the feast has been postponed at your house to a more convenient time?" "just what it has," replied the other. "you see my married sisters are expected home on saturday night, and so mother decided to let the big dinner go until sunday, when we'll all be together again. i just took a snack to munch on at noon, and brought some things to cook. i got here two hours back, and had plenty of time to fix things as i wanted them for my one night out." "perhaps you'll make it two, if we decide to stay that long, eh, ralph?" asked bud, who was feeling much more warmly toward the other since partaking of the delicious quail. "you see, we've got plenty of rations along for three, and you'd be as welcome to share with us as a shower in june." "i'll see about that to-morrow afternoon, bud," replied the other. "but before i forget it, i want to tell you boys about a couple of queer men i happened to see while coming through the woods not more than a mile or so away from here." "p'raps timber prospectors" suggested hugh; "i've known of such men to come up in this region trying to spy out new fields for operating their destructive saw-mills. somehow i hate to see the forest wiped out that way. a tree takes some hundreds of years to mature, and then it goes down in a heap, to be sawed up into boards. it seems like a shame to me every time i think of how the timber is disappearing. i believe in the work of the forest reserve board. it's high time this country began to think of keeping what it's got before everything is lost. but tell us about these men that you saw. they were not tramps, ralph?" "oh, no, they were dressed too well for that," replied the other quickly. "i happened to sight them in time to duck behind a tree, and they never once suspected that anybody was near. one was a tall, thin man, a german, i thought, while the other was dark and short,---fact is, i took him for a chinese, a japanese or a korean from the color of his skin and his black bristling hair." "that sounds interesting, anyway!" commented bud. then he added with a little amused laugh, "p'raps they've heard in some mysterious way, hugh, how a celebrated young inventor named bud morgan means to try out his latest wonderful stunt, and they hope to steal the concrete result of his budding genius. but go on, ralph. what did they do that looked suspicious?" "oh! their every action struck me as queer," ralph continued. "you see they talked in a low voice, put their heads close together, looked all around as if they were afraid some one might be watching them, and then moved off, always turning to the right and to the left. you know when valuable iron ore was discovered on our farm, for a long time afterward strange men came prowling around there. it struck me these fellows might be looking for something like that." "perhaps they're really civil engineers, meaning to run a line across here in order to straighten the railroad and save time on through trains," hugh suggested, leaning back after finishing his meal. "that might account for it," ralph admitted, "though they acted mighty strange to me. i never let out a peep till they'd disappeared from sight; and even then i thought it best to change my line of advance for fear that i might stumble on the precious pair again. really now, i'd give a cooky to know just who and what they are, and why they've come away up here where only charcoal burners can be met as a rule." bud had opened his mouth to make some remark, sighing to think how he was utterly unable to eat another bite, when there was a sudden vivid flash as of lightning without that startled all the scouts; and immediately following came a tremendous roar similar to a clap of nearby thunder! chapter iii the mysterious explosion "wow! that was a stunner all right!" exclaimed bud. "why, honest, i could feel the ground shake under me when that thunder clap came! and as i happened to be looking over there where the opening lies, the flash nearly blinded me." "lightning and thunder in november is something you don't often meet," was the comment of ralph, turning a perplexed face toward hugh, as though depending on the leader of the wolf patrol to solve the puzzle. without saying a word, hugh jumped to his feet and went outside to take a look around. he came back almost immediately, and his face told them that his investigation instead of clearing up the mystery had only added to it. "what did you find out, hugh?" questioned bud. "not a single cloud to be seen in all the sky!" said the other impressively. "whew! that seems queer, doesn't it?" faltered bud. "and it must be almost down to freezing, into the bargain," added the patrol leader. "i've seen lightning before, in february even, but always during a thaw. fact is, boys, i can't believe that it was either lightning or thunder we saw and heard." "but, hugh, what could it have been then?" demanded ralph. "if we were nearer the granite quarries, i'd say they had set off an extra big blast. you know we sometimes hear a faraway boom over home. sound travels many miles when there's a sub-strata of rock like a ledge to act as a conductor." "yes, but then i understood work had stopped there for the season the saturday before thanksgiving," volunteered bud. "still, they may be doing some blasting, just to keep things moving as long as the snow holds off. if that was a blast of dynamite, it must have been a stunner to make the earth quiver so much." hugh made no reply. plainly he was deeply impressed with the mysterious nature of the unannounced explosion. and when once hugh started to find out what things meant, he seldom let the matter drop until he had accomplished his purpose. bud also went to the door and looked out, his curiosity having been duly aroused. hence he did not hear ralph make a significant admission. "now that i come to think of it," the other remarked, "for the last two nights i can remember hearing a distant, dull sound that i thought was a heavy blast off in this quarter. i chanced to be outdoors each night about ten o'clock. it's come much earlier this time, it seems; but, anyhow, that is getting to be a regular nightly performance i wonder if they are working over in the granite quarries? i'm something of a sticker when anything bothers me like this, and for three cents i'd take a turn over that way to-morrow just to satisfy my mind." "i was wondering whether those two men you saw could have had anything to do with that queer crash and flash?" suggested hugh slowly. "ginger! i wonder now!" exclaimed ralph, who apparently had not thought to connect the pair of strangers with the mysterious goings-on. "but they didn't seem to have anything along with them at that time. i remember seeing the taller man take something out of his pocket and examine it, hugh; and at the time it struck me the shiny object looked mighty like one of these modern automatic pistols." hugh shook his head as though, try as he would, as yet he could see no way of solving the puzzle. just then bud came back, having fixed the door the same way he had found it, with the loose board used as a prop to keep it in position. "just as you said, hugh," he announced, "it's clear as a bell, with a young moon hanging low in the western sky and the stars shining like all get-out. no siree, thunder never yet was heard on a night like this. so i guess it must have been a blast. they do say dynamite shakes the ground a heap more than powder, because its force is always directed downward. if you put a cartridge on top of a big rock and fire it, the boulder is shattered to pieces. powder you've got to put underneath every time." "correct, bud, you go up to the head of the class," laughed hugh. "i wanted to ask ralph if when he used to camp around here last winter he ever knew the air to be clear enough to hear the noise of the mill over at town?" "why, it's a good many miles away," returned ralph, "and i don't know that i ever did hear what you say. but what makes you ask that, bud?" "oh! the atmosphere must be doing its prettiest then, to-night," came the answer. "while i was standing just outside the door i could hear the plain rattle of the machinery, though it died away quick enough. i understand that business is so good that they're running a night shift at the mills. and sounds can be heard a long way off after sunset, can't they, hugh?" "that's all as true as anything, bud, though if you'd asked me my opinion before you spoke, i would have said it was foolish to think we could hear the mills so far away as this, no matter how clear the frosty air might be." "well, that may be," remarked the other boy doggedly; "but i did hear machinery pounding away at a right merry pace, give you my word on that. i even stepped out further and looked around, but there wasn't a thing in sight, only the stars shining up there and the little horned moon dropping down close to the horizon." "we came up here thinking we'd be all alone and could do what we'd planned without being interrupted," observed hugh, "but seems as though we've dropped on the queerest sort of a mystery the very first thing. and as scouts always stand to investigate what they don't understand, i reckon we'll have our hands full prying into this thing." "but don't let it make my affairs take second place, hugh," pleaded bud. "what if some fellow does happen to be using up explosives by the cartload, that oughtn't to interfere with the trying out of the little invention which the brain of a morgan has conjured up, and which, if successful, will be a blessing to science, as well as to aviators in particular." ralph pricked up his ears at hearing these last few words. no doubt they set him to wondering what bud had invented now; but the latter did not take the time or trouble to let him into the secret, so ralph just had to possess his soul in patience. "you needn't think that i'll let anything drag me away from the first object of our trip up here, bud," soothed the patrol leader, who knew how deeply in earnest his chum was. "but it may be that we'll find the time to look into this other business, too. if more shocks come that are as bad as that one was, we're not apt to get much sleep to-night, boys." "then here's hoping they'll stay away," wished bud. "why, a few more shocks like that would start all my joints loose, i do believe! could that have been a meteor bursting, do you think, hugh?" "well, that's a new idea," admitted the other, "and one that didn't come to me, i'll own up. a meteor can fall at any old time, day or night, though we only see them shooting after dark sets in. when one of these fragments of fused metal and slag does rush toward the earth and bury itself in the ground, it makes just such a brilliant flash. some say there is a fearful crash when it strikes. stranger things have happened, i take it, bud, than to believe that was a falling meteor of a pretty good size." "but don't shooting stars generally fall in the summer time, hugh?" questioned bud. it had become a habit with most of the scouts to ask the wolf leader any and all sorts of questions, as though he might be looked upon as a walking encyclopedia or dictionary; and it kept hugh pretty busy accumulating information in order to be well posted for these constant demands on his time and patience. "yes, i believe the earth does pass through the greatest showers of meteors in august, but then there are lots of them loose at any time. i've read of some remarkable ones being dug out of the earth in various places. if this should prove to be a big meteor and we could find where it struck, it would be a feather in the caps of the scouts. some old professor would be hustling up this way as soon as we let them know at yale or harvard." "then we'll try to find where it struck!" declared ralph. "it would be as bad as hunting for a needle in a haystack in all this big wilderness," ventured bud; "though there'd be no harm in our trying,---that is, if i'm in any shape to go with you after i've had my little innings." again did ralph wear a puzzled frown as he heard bud make this significant remark. he must have wondered more than ever what it could possibly be that the other had conceived this time. on other occasions his efforts, while ambitious, had ended in smoke, and the rest of the boys often quizzed poor bud most unmercifully on account of his shortcomings. but then, all great inventors must make a beginning. it is not expected that genius can take the saddle at one bound. persistence counts more in such cases than anything else. the fellow who has faith in himself is apt to get there in the end, no matter what grievous disappointments waylay him on his course; that is, if he really amounts to more than a flash in the pan. bud sometimes comforted himself with reflections along this order. he was not easily cast down, and that counted for a good deal. the three scouts sat in the shack crosslegged, like so many turks, and chatted busily as time passed on. ralph was easily induced to speak of his various experiences when he used to trap in this same neighborhood during past winters. he had run across a number of strange things that were well worth telling; and hugh especially showed the keenest kind of interest in all he had to say. bud, like most promising candidates among those destined to become truly great, had a habit of forgetting that there were others present besides himself. he would fall into a reflective mood and knit his brow as though wrestling with grave problems, upon the solving of which the fate of nations depended. ralph knew all about the habits of foxes, mink, otter, weasels, muskrats, raccoons, 'possums and divers other small fur-bearing animals such as give up their warm coats for the purpose of keeping ladies' hands and necks comfortable during wintry blasts. he had had many amusing experiences with some of them, and as the scout patrol leader never wearied of learning interesting facts at first hand, ralph was kept busy talking and answering questions, until considerable time had slipped by and there was bud yawning as though threatening to dislocate his jaws. "guess we'd better be thinking of bunking down for the night," suggested hugh. "did you fetch a blanket along with you, ralph?" "well, i'm too old a hand to be caught napping in the woods without thinking of the night that is coming," replied the other, laughing at the same time. "over in the corner you'll see the bully red blanket that's hugged me tight on many a cold night when i was tending my line of traps. i feel that it is like an old friend when i get it tucked around me, and you'd think i was an esquimo lying there, or one of those mummies they get out of mexican catacombs." "that's all right," hugh declared; "i thought you were too sensible to come up here and spend a night at this time of year without something to keep you from freezing. why, even on a summer night that starts in hot, it's apt to feel chilly along about three in the morning. i've seen the time when i'd have given a heap to have my blanket along; and the only thing i could do was to get up and start the fire booming again." the three boys started to pick out the best spots for making their beds, each one being governed by some idea of his own. it was lucky they did not all think alike, or they must have drawn straws for first choice. hugh was carefully laying his blanket down so that he could crawl into it as if it were a bag, after he had taken his shoes and some of his outer clothing off, when he felt a gentle tug at his sleeve. "hugh!" said a soft voice in a whisper. "what is it, ralph?" questioned the other, going right along with what he was doing in order not to show that there was anything amiss. "don't act as if i was saying anything out of the common, hugh," said the other; "but first chance you get, peep out of the tail of your eye at the broken window, and you'll find that we're being watched!" chapter iv reading a "sign" by torchlight of course it gave the leader of the wolf patrol a thrill when he heard this low warning from ralph. you never would have known it, though, from any uneasy movement on his part. he knew that the boy who had spent so much of his time in the woods, trapping the cunning little furry inhabitants in seasons gone by, would not alarm him needlessly. and so, watching his chance, hugh managed to shoot a glance toward the opening without betraying the fact that he was particularly interested in that quarter. as he did so, he was just in time to see a face vanish from view. in fact, he barely caught a fleeting glimpse of it, and yet hugh felt perfectly sure that he had not alarmed the watcher in any way. the cause of the unknown party's sudden withdrawal was speedily made plain. bud seemed to be gasping, and immediately whispered hoarsely: "great guns! did you see that, fellows? as sure as my name's bud morgan there was a man peeking in at the window there! honest injun, there was!" undoubtedly the unknown visitor must have discovered bud staring straight at him, and thought it high time to disappear. "yes, we both saw him, bud," said hugh, rather disappointed that, after all, the fellow had been chased away before they could find out his identity or what he wanted, prowling around in such a suspicious way. "who in the dickens was it?" exclaimed bud, evidently growing angry now that his astonishment had worn away. "the nerve of him, poking his nose in where it isn't wanted! why don't we get a move on and chase after him? ralph, remember that you've got your scatter-gun handy. don't forget to take that, will you?" "did you recognize that face, ralph?" asked the practical scout leader, turning to the young trapper of the past. "i think---yes, i'm nearly dead sure it was one of the two men i saw acting in such a suspicious way this afternoon," came the answer. "which one, would you say?" continued hugh. "the taller one," came from ralph without hesitation. "i think you said he looked a little like the german type, wasn't that about it, ralph?" "yes, that was what i believed at the time i saw him," replied the other. he had already stepped over and picked up his gun. there was a gleam in his eyes that told of a spirit aroused. ralph had become a scout and was to the best of his ability trying to live up to the duties of one belonging to the organization; but of course there were times when the old spirit would come to the surface. the present occasion was one of these moments. "let's go outside and look around," hugh suggested. "bully idea!" muttered the impatient bud; and having no gun to grasp, he made a lunge for the stout stick which ralph had been using as a sort of poker when the fire needed attention. hugh did something still more practical. he stooped down and calmly selected a certain blazing brand from the fire. this was of such a nature that when properly handled it could be made to serve as a pretty fair torch. when bud saw what the patrol leader was doing, he grunted and nodded his head as though comprehending things. bud always could "see through a mill-stone that had a hole in it," as he was accustomed to say; in so many words, he was quick to grasp things after some smarter fellow had blazed the way. a "hint was as good as a nod" to bud. "fine thing, hugh!" he commented admiringly. he realized how valuable such a light might prove under the circumstances. ralph removed the piece of board that served to hold the door shut, and boldly led the way outside. the others pressed closely at his heels, hugh holding the spluttering torch above his head and bud gripping his club with the full intention of using it should the occasion warrant such action. all was dark and still without. the night wind moaned in the branches of the trees where the leaves had fallen, or rustled the brown foliage of the oaks; but they could see no hostile form. "oh! he skipped out, all right, sure he did!" declared bud, with something like a sneer in his voice. "he knew i had glimpsed him, and he didn't have the nerve to hold over and meet us face to face. wonder if it would make him run any faster if you banged away a couple of times with your gun, ralph?" the idea did not seem to appeal to ralph, however, for he made not the slightest effort to act upon it. standing there, he stared around at the gloomy woods and waited to see what hugh would so. the latter had also taken a fair survey of the singular picture as seen by the weird light of the torch. presently he stepped forward and turned the corner of the shack. ralph followed him closely, while bud, still holding his cudgel in an aggressive manner, posted himself at the corner, where he could not only watch what the other fellows did but at the same time keep an eye on the door. he did not mean to leave the way open for anybody to sneak into the shack while their attention was directed elsewhere,---not if he knew his duty, and he believed he did. now hugh, being an experienced scout, first of all thought to make sure that they had really been spied upon. this he knew could be readily ascertained by examining the ground under the opening called a window. men can hardly stand on ordinary soil without leaving some sort of impression there. and those boys who have spent many a vacation in the woods, studying indian tactics as applied to the life of a scout, know how to read such signs almost as easily as they might the printed page of a book. bending down therefore at the suspected spot, hugh quickly pointed out the imprint of feet to ralph. "that proves it!" exclaimed the other as he flung a hasty glance over his shoulder, apparently half suspecting that the object of their conversation might suddenly burst upon his vision. "yes, it's easy to see he was standing here after creeping on his hands and knees," hugh remarked, still studying the marks. "and he's wearing a pretty fine pair of modern shoes into the bargain; which shows that the men you saw were _not_ tramps. at the same time, ralph, i can't believe they were timber-cruisers, either, looking for new belts of forest that could be bought up. whenever i've seen one of those men, he wore laced hunting shoes that came half way to the knee, so as to protect his legs against snake-bites and thorns while pushing through the scrub. no, this man has rather a dainty foot, and it strikes me as mighty queer he should be wandering around here." "what are we going to do next?" asked ralph, looking as though he stood ready to carry out any suggestion hugh might make, even to chasing around and trying to follow the trail of the fleeing spy. "nothing, that i can see," answered hugh; "and so let's go in again. we can talk it over better there than out here, you know." two minutes later and they were once more indoors. seated before the fire, they canvassed the matter thoroughly. from every angle they tried to penetrate the mystery, but it seemed to baffle them. "i had an experience once that makes me sort of think they may be keepers from some asylum looking for an escaped lunatic," hugh finally remarked; "though if that were the case, they'd be apt to wear some sort of gray uniform, and you didn't say anything about that, ralph." "yes," added the other, quickly, "but if that's what they were, why should they act so queer? wouldn't two such men want to scrape an acquaintance with us scouts, so as to get a few pointers? i don't think that covers the bill, hugh." "and i didn't, either, when i spoke of it," the patrol leader said, as he smiled and nodded his head. "but perhaps bud may set us right. i can see from the look on his face that he has a brilliant idea." "oh, shucks! i don't know how brilliant it is," the party mentioned hastened to remark, "but you're welcome to my thought. suppose there happened to be some desperate men hiding up here in these woods, say counterfeiters, for instance? i've heard that such fellows always try to pick a lonely place to do their work in. well, the government always sends out smart men belonging to the secret service to round these chaps up. i was speculating on whether those two strangers ralph saw mightn't be detectives. i reckon they looked as if they wanted to detect, all right; and let me tell you, p'raps we're under the ban of suspicion right now." bud ended his remarks in a rather awed voice, but neither of the others seemed to be at all worried. indeed, hugh chuckled as though amused. "it may be that you've guessed the right answer, bud," he said, "but all the same i don't believe it. there's something deeper about those men than that. and unless i miss my guess, we'll find in the end, if we learn anything at all, that they've got some sort of connection with that queer flash and crash that gave us such a scare earlier in the night." bud stared at hugh on hearing this. "whee! do you really think so, hugh?" he muttered, as though trying to grasp what all this might stand for, and yet hardly able to comprehend its full significance. after all their talk, however, they were really no nearer a solution of the matter in the end than when they started to discuss it. hugh said they would have to wait and see what turned up next, before settling on any one explanation and both the other scouts agreed with him. so they finally prepared to lie down and get what sleep was possible, which under the conditions could hardly be expected to amount to a great deal. their blankets were folded in such fashion as to give them the best results. this wrinkle they had learned in the field of practical experience, than which there is no better guide. theory is all very well, but the book-taught scout has a great many ideas to change when he gets out into the open, with the stars shining down on him from the blue vault of heaven and the voices of nature surrounding him on every side, instead of the bare ceiling and walls of his bedroom at home. that night certainly dragged along fearfully. every now and then one of the boys would turn over and grunt, or else raise his head to look around him at the flickering light of the fire on the walls of the lonely woods' shack. as many as six times did hugh crawl out from the warm folds of his blanket to replenish the fire, for the night air was chill; and after one has slept, his body is apt to feel cold, as the heart beats less rapidly, and the blood circulates with more difficulty. but thank goodness, these things must all have an end, and bud heaved a sigh of profound thanksgiving when finally he saw signs of dawn appear through the open window. "day's coming on, and we're all on deck with nothing gone wrong!" he observed loud enough for the others to hear him. this chanced to be one of bud's ways of informing his chums that he thought it high time they turned out for "reveille." as there was no use in trying to sleep any longer with the anxious bud on deck, since this was to be looked upon as his particular day, hugh and ralph followed the other's example, and were soon hustling out to wash in water that nearly froze their fingers it was so cold. the sun was nearing the horizon, and from all indications it promised to be just such a day as the one before had proved; which fact delighted bud immensely. "because," he explained after giving an exhibition of a highland fling to allow some of his pent-up enthusiasm to escape, "this is the day a morgan is going to win fame or else make the grandest foozle you ever saw." chapter v the "fool-proof" aeroplane "that was a good breakfast, all right, but i'm glad it's over," bud remarked some time later. ralph, of course, did not exactly understand what this meant, but hugh knew. he was in the confidence of the young inventor far enough to appreciate his eagerness to be at work. he knew what had brought bud all the way up to this lonely spot, in order that none of the town boys might spy upon him while trying out his latest wonderful invention. truth to tell, bud had taken a most intense interest in aviation of late. everything that bore upon the subject fascinated the boy, and he dreamed of making the name of morgan famous through some remarkable invention connected with the work of the daring airmen. he had confessed to hugh in strict confidence that he had managed to fashion a little model aeroplane that he believed to be uncapsizable. many more mature minds than that of bud morgan had been wrestling with this important question for years, because it was pretty generally understood that when this condition had been really attained, the sport of aviation would advance with great bounds. make navigating the upper air currents practically safe, and thousands would take up flying just as they had the driving of automobiles when the road racers had been perfected as they are to-day. the huge packages which the two scouts had staggered under during their weary hike from the road where the accommodating farmer had dropped them, really contained the said model. it was not of very large size, and the little engine which was to drive it really weighed as much as the rest of the thing; but bud declared that it would answer all his purposes, and prove whether he had been wasting his time and spending money uselessly of late or not. once the breakfast had been disposed of, bud was trembling with eagerness to get started. he could not understand why the others should delay so, when time was slipping away. presently they left the cabin, closing the door behind them. all of the blankets, as well as their food supplies, had been left inside, and they did not want any wandering wild animal like a 'coon or a fox to make way with the latter during their absence at the proving grounds. it was this same caution that urged hugh to cover up the aperture through which they had obtained fresh air during the night just past, and which went by the name of a window. the open field which bud had once before mentioned as the very place for the trial spins with his aeroplane model was not very far distant. the man who had originally started to make a farm away up here had diligently cut down trees for a space of several acres. he had also grubbed the ground so thoroughly that it had remained clear all these years, save for an annual crop of grass, now withered and dead. "if we can help any, bud, just tell us what to do," hugh said to the inventor, after the three boys had come to a halt on the border of this open space. "that's the kind of talk i like to hear, hugh," the other replied, looking up with a smile on his anxious face. "just wait till i get these covers off, and then you'll see what i've been doing all these months when some of the fellows were kidding me on being a regular old book worm and not wanting to come out and play even football with them. it was the hardest kind of work, but if she even goes a little, i'll think it wasn't time wasted. all i want is encouragement; i've got the bull-dog grit to carry it on all right." "i reckon you have, bud," was the only comment hugh made; and he ought to know, because bud was a member of the wolf patrol and the leader had watched him work many a time as though there were no such word as "fail" in his lexicon. so bud busied himself in undoing stout cords and opening both bundles. when hugh saw the nature of the load he had been packing up the side of stormberg mountain, he shook his head and laughed. "what did you think i was, bud, a mule, or a chinese porter used to carrying as much as half a ton on his back?" he demanded. "why, that engine would have given me a bad scare if i'd seen it beforehand. and i toted that all the way up here from the road, did i? well, anyway, i've earned the right to boast after this. a motor is no light load, i don't care how small it may be. don't you agree with me, ralph?" ralph was chuckling to himself, seemingly much amused. "i should say yes," he replied; "and i don't wonder you complained of feeling a touch of pain in the muscles of your back last night, hugh. but really the load bud took himself was larger and just about as heavy as yours, you see." "oh! he gave me my choice. i saw it was six of one and half a dozen of the other, so i took the smaller one. i reckon i'll be ready to tackle a house next time, after having a motor on my back." bud set to work assembling the various parts of his model. in some respects it was rather a crude imitation of a monoplane, but for practical purposes no doubt it would answer just as well as the most elegant model. what bud wanted to find out most of all was whether he had been working on the right principle. if that turned out to be correct he could afford to have a better model made; then he could take up the idea with some of those capitalists who were interested in building airships of all kinds. for once bud was supreme. he gave his orders and the others obeyed. even hugh, accustomed to being the leader, willingly assumed the air of a novice, though bud knew very well that the other had studied the subject of aviation very thoroughly and was competent to advise in a pinch. by slow degrees bud managed to get his planes adjusted and the tiny motor installed. hugh, in a quiet and unostentatious way, often assisted him to overcome some difficulty that arose; so that bud declared he did not know how he could have managed without the other's help in tightening wire stays and installing the motor. at last the work seemed to have been accomplished. bud said he could fix the rudder of the model so that when once it was in the air, it would continue to make revolutions for a certain time. he declared it would actually fly around the field slowly until the measured stock of gasoline had been exhausted, when of course it would drop to the ground as the engine ceased to work. "you see i expect to manage by means of this cord," he explained. "i'll chase along below, and every once in so often try to upset the thing by giving a savage jerk. then you'll discover whether my device is going to work. if it does half way decently in this clumsy model, it'll pay to install it on a real aeroplane and either go up myself or else have an air pilot do it for me. but say, let me tell you right now that i'm shivering all over as if i had the ague! 'cause why? in half an hour or so i'm going to know whether i'm it, or else a lunkhead that ought to be smothered before his fool notions get him into a peck of trouble." "oh! i wouldn't put it that way, bud," advised hugh. "you mustn't call yourself hard names, even if this invention fails to work. they say edison has lots of rank failures that the public never hears about; only his brilliant successes become known. suppose this scheme doesn't do all that you expect it to, why, perhaps you'll see where it falls short and be able to remedy the fault. if you have faith in yourself, it's going to turn out all right every time. try seventy times seven, and never give up as long as life lasts." "_nil desperandum_!" quoted ralph; "or, as we americans have it, 'if at first you don't succeed, try, try again!'" "you just bet i will, fellows," said bud firmly; "and now let's make the first trial spin." he had elevated the model so that it would start in the air without the necessity of leaving the ground. this was a minor matter, and only intended to hurry things along. when the little motor got to work there was an immediate movement of the rough miniature monoplane. "hurrah! there she goes!" cried ralph, really excited when he saw the object of bud's recent labors actually moving through space, sustained by the extended pair of planes. hugh, too, felt a thrill of delight. he was very fond of bud, and anything that promised to repay the other scout for his weeks of arduous labor pleased the leader of the wolf patrol more than he could express in words. bud was about the busiest boy any one had ever known. to run along and keep, up with that hurrying model, hanging on to the long stout cord, was no easy task. the rudder had certainly been fixed properly to insure a circuit of the field; but as the ground was very rough in places, bud had great difficulty in keeping from falling many times. this was partly on account of the fact that he had to fasten his eyes on the scurrying monoplane model pretty much all the time, and could therefore not pay much attention to where he was going, or see the traps lying in the way of his feet. he stuck to his task heroically, with grim determination to see it through to the bitter end. every once in a while he would give the cord a savage jerk. in this way he managed to make the little flier take sudden lurches; but in every instance the model instantly resumed its upright position as soon as the pull was past. it reminded hugh of prank-loving swimmers attempting to sink a boat built with air chambers, which would bob to the surface triumphantly every time. so far as one could tell from watching these rather clumsy operations on the part of the inventor, his apparatus for steadying an aeroplane was surely showing signs of being a success. it consisted of a small iron bar weighing an ounce or so, which was hung as a pendulum from an arm projecting from under the operator's seat. this pendulum was so delicately set that it seemed to respond to the slightest deviation of the aeroplane from the horizontal. as the excited inventor explained to his chums, after he had allowed the craft to come to earth again, not without some little damage which precluded another flight that day, it was a very simple thing after all. if the craft was thrown from its balance in any way, the movement of this pendulum would cause two little valves to open. this would make the compression from the engine force a piston back and forth, which communicated with the warping levers and automatically accomplished what had up to that time, bud went on to say, been done by the hand of the busy aviator. thus a mechanical balancer had been arranged, so that the pilot need never bother himself as to whether a stiff gale were blowing or not, since practically nothing could upset his craft. "it looks to me as if you had a good idea there, bud," said hugh; "and unless somebody's been ahead of you in the field, it ought to make you famous as an inventor. perhaps when you try it again to-morrow, after mending your planes, you'll discover a few ways in which it can be improved. never believe anything is perfect the first time. and now, shall we gather it up again and carry it to the cabin?" "you're awfully kind, hugh!" declared the happy bud, whose face was rosy from his recent tremendous exertions and from the glow of satisfied ambition. "i am convinced that i haven't been wasting my time, even if i'm only harrowing in a field some other fellow may have plowed before me." they managed to get the miniature aeroplane over to the shack, though it was no light burden, taken all in all. bud, however, was feeling so pleased that he could have done the work of an ox himself. there is nothing like satisfaction to bring out unsuspected powers in a boy; and just then bud believed he could have carried as great a load as any turkish _hamel_ or porter. leaving the queer looking contrivance outside the door, bud hurried in as though something that he had suddenly thought of was bothering him. a minute later he burst into view again, a row of wrinkles across his forehead and words of alarm sounding from his lips. "i can't find it anywhere," he lamented, "and i'm dead sure i left it there on the pile of blankets. hugh, somebody's been in the shack while we were away, and cribbed the plan for my aeroplane stability device!" chapter vi a red letter day in the woods both hugh and ralph looked serious when their comrade made this announcement. "that's a tough deal on you, old fellow!" said the latter, feeling that it must mean considerable to bud to have his idea stolen just when it was giving promise of being a signal success. "sure you left them there on the pile of blankets, are you?" asked ever practical hugh. "that's right, he did," ralph volunteered. "i remember seeing some papers there when i went out, and i was the last to leave, you know. and you say that they've clean disappeared, have they, bud?" "come on in and see if either of you have sharper eyes than i seem to have," the other scout demanded. accepting the invitation, hugh and ralph bustled about for several minutes, hunting all through the interior of the shack, but without any success. "nothing here, that's sure," admitted the patrol leader. "it was careless of you to leave your precious plan behind when you went to try the model out." bud scratched his tousled head as though endeavoring to collect his wits. "let me see," he started to say, slowly; "don't blame me if i'm all mixed up over this business. i've waited so long for this time to come that i'm sure rattled, that's what's the matter. what did i lay down here? some parts of the plans for the model, that goes without saying; but seems like i've got a paper in my pocket right now. let's see, i honestly believe that it's the key to the invention. just what it is, boys; and without this, nobody'd ever know what all those markings on the other papers were meant for." "then it's all right, after all?" asked hugh, smiling again when he saw that suggestive grin on his comrade's face. "it seems that i can make an aeroplane fool proof, when all the time the fool killer ought to get hold of me," bud confessed contritely. "it was certainly careless of me to leave any part of my precious papers floating around, and only good luck has saved me from being left high and dry. but perhaps those fellows will think they've got hold of some remarkable design. they might crack their brains trying to make it out, and then not learn a single thing. when a fellow laughs last, he's going to laugh best, believe me." "well, next time be more careful, that's all," advised ralph. "you can't always count on being so lucky. an inventor ought to keep his secrets locked up, and not let them lie around loose. you'll find that there are plenty of sly thieves ready to steal ideas, as well as money and jewels. an idea that's worth a fortune can be cribbed a heap easier than the coin itself." "only a part of the morning's gone," announced hugh. "how shall we put in the rest of the day?" "oh! i'll be pretty busy making repairs to my model," bud replied. "you two fellows can find plenty to interest you both. only don't roam too far afield in looking up interesting things. with that mysterious pair hanging out around here, i won't feel any too easy in my mind. my idea may be worth a cool million, you know." while bud was working diligently, the other two amused themselves first of all by closely examining the ground just before the door of the cabin. "here you can see several imprints of that fine pair of shoes," ralph said almost immediately; "and that makes it look as though the man who wore them really did slip inside while we were away. chances are, he wonders what boys wearing khaki suits like the regular soldiers of the army are up here for. you agree with me, don't you, hugh?" "it looks that way," admitted the other. "here you see one of the impressions has stopped short only a few inches from the door, as if the man stood here listening before stepping in, after carefully removing the piece of rope we fixed to hold the door shut from the outside." "but how do you know that that impression wasn't made twenty-four hours ago?" asked bud, who was sitting cross-legged close by and listening to their talk, even while he worked at his broken wing tip. "nothing could be easier," replied hugh. "here's the foot mark i purposely made when i came out of the cabin last, and you can see that he stepped into the same place. that tells us he was here _afterward_. get that, don't you, bud?" "i'd be a donkey if i didn't, and not worthy of being called a scout," the other boy remarked with scathing emphasis. "fact is, if my mind wasn't so much wrapped up with this aeroplane stability device, i couldn't have missed seeing that little trick myself if i'd looked the ground over; because that happens to be one of the first things i ever learned about tracking and trailing." "even if the sneak didn't get anything worth while," ralph continued indignantly, "the fact that they seem to be hanging out around here seems to tell that they must have a good reason for it all. the more i get to thinking about it, the less i feel like saying we'd better let the thing alone because it doesn't concern us. when things come to such a pass that unknown persons even sneak into your cabin in your absence and steal what they believe to be valuable papers, it's high time to take a hand in the business. and if while we're wandering around here we happen to run across those two men, i'll feel like asking what they mean by poking their noses into bud's private business." "hear! hear!" said bud, pretending to clap his hands; "that's the sort of a chum to stack up with. ralph's the kind to stick to a fellow through thick and thin. and please inform that taller walking mystery for me, ralph, that i feel like telling him to his face that he's a thief. will, too, if ever i get half a chance." pretty soon hugh and ralph changed the subject of conversation and wandered off together, talking earnestly about the habits of muskrats and mink and otter. it was pretty late in the year to do much in the way of tracking, but ralph knew several places along a nearby stream where he had often caught mink that were using the burrows; and he was anxious to show his friend certain things in connection with the habits of the sleek animals, the skins of which were always in such good demand for furs. they had a joyous time together, because both were animated by the same sort of desire to know all that could be learned of wild animal life. hugh's scout education had given him a pretty good insight into these things; but he knew the relative value of book learning and practical experience, and never let an opportunity to see for himself slip past. at no time did they wander far afield. and as certain signals had been arranged with bud, whereby he could summon them to his assistance in case there was any symptom of impending trouble, there did not seem to be any need of worry. once in so often they would walk back to the near vicinity of the shack; and on discovering bud there, busily engaged in mending his disabled aeroplane model, they considered that they could saunter off again to investigate further into the secrets of wood and swamp, the latter now half frozen over in the cold late november atmosphere. that was a day hugh hardin would long remember. he picked up a stack of practical information on topics that had always interested him greatly. ralph was the best kind of a chum with whom to be wandering through the forest. he knew many things in connection with these subjects and was always ready to impart information to others, as well as to demonstrate what he was discussing. at noontime they cooked dinner. bud was not nearly through his repairs, though he declared that he was making satisfactory progress and would have the model in as good shape as ever long before evening set in. "to-morrow we'll have another and convincing test!" he declared positively, with something of the air of a conqueror about him. hugh noticed this with a smile, though he thought there was some excuse for bud's displaying a disposition to "crow." all of the boys showed that they had their appetites along with them on this trip, to judge by the rapid way in which the great heap of splendid flapjacks made by ralph disappeared, until only the empty platter remained. but then, they were up here to enjoy themselves, and what better way could they find of doing this than by feasting on real camp cooking? during the afternoon, ralph and hugh spent some more of their time in making discoveries. the former young trapper had a host of reminiscences to fall back on, now that he was located close to the scenes of many of his previous excursions in search of fur and feather. "see that tree lying there chopped down?" he asked hugh, as they came upon a pretty fairsized specimen of the forest monarch, which, after being put to the ax, had broken many limbs off when it crashed down. "well, i did that little job all by myself. want to know why?" "i might give a guess, as i see traces of old honeycomb around here. i'll warrant you discovered a hive of bees in this tree and meant to get gallons and gallons of their fine stores. how about that, ralph?" "you struck the right nail on the head," laughed the other, "just as i felt certain you would when i saw you look around that way. yes, i felt amply repaid for all my work after cutting through the tree, because two years ago times were a bit hard with the kenyons, and all that nice honey proved a treat in our family circle, you'd better believe." "how did you find the honey tree,---by tracking the bees up the usual way?" hugh asked. "that was how i did it," ralph replied. "i once saw a regular bee hunter do the stunt, and so i knew how; and it worked right well, too. i started out with a little honey and coaxed a wandering bee to fill himself up. then with a pair of old opera glasses, i watched his flight just as far as i could see him. going over to that point, i repeated the experiment. after doing it for about six times i saw my loaded bee rise, and make for this tree. then, as it was a warm noon, i discovered a swarm of young bees trying their wings away up in the air, and i knew i had located the tree hive. it is an easy job, once you get on to it, hugh." "some time i'd like to come out with you and try for another hive," observed the other scout. "but it's too late this year, because, unless a very warm day happens to come along, the bees will stick close to their hives." in this sort of fashion the afternoon did not hang heavy on the hands of the two boys. it never does with scouts who are alive to their opportunities along the line of investigation. time passed so quickly and pleasantly that, almost before either of them suspected it, the sun started to go down. and about the same moment they heard bud giving the wolf signal, not in a fashion to indicate any pressing necessity for their presence at the shack, but just to tell them he was getting lonely and that they had better come home. they found that bud had started supper, being in a joyous frame of mind because of the glittering prospects for success in connection with his new invention. bud was a novice in the business. he would doubtless learn in due time how many bitter disappointments attend the fortunes of all those who spend their waking hours in trying to conjure up startling innovations. after the evening meal had been enjoyed to its limit and everything cooked by bud had vanished, the three chums again sat around and talked on all sorts of interesting subjects. bud, however, seemed to be uneasy. perhaps it was on account of his anxiety to have the morrow come, when he could improve on the trial of his model aeroplane. then again it might have been that the attempted larceny of his precious plan wore upon his mind. be that as it may, every little while he would go to the door and step outside. it might have been the fourth time he did this that he thrust his head inside again and called to the others to join him. "that clatter of machinery is hanging around again, hugh!" he said, excitedly. "perhaps you'll be able to tell me whatever it means, and if we could really hear the working of the mills all these miles away!" chapter vii bud's meteor both scouts hurried out to join bud. they found him standing there with his head cocked on one side, apparently listening as hard as he could. indeed it did not require any especial gift of hearing to catch the strange noises spoken of by the ambitious inventor. they seemed to be close at hand and constantly growing louder all the time. just as bud had declared, the racket was undoubtedly caused by some sort of machinery. hugh immediately made an important discovery. it rather startled him, too, as well it might, for he had not been dreaming of anything so unusual. "why, it's in the air!" he exclaimed involuntarily. "sure it is," agreed the excited bud; "in the air and everywhere else. seems to me i might be listening to a dozen shuttles working with a rush." "but i mean that it comes from _above our heads_!" hugh quickly added; at which both the others gasped in wonder, though realizing that what the patrol leader had said was actually true. "whatever can it mean?" stammered bud. "say, do you know it makes me think of something i heard over at bellville during county fair week!" burst out ralph. "meaning an aeroplane?" declared hugh. "just what it was, hugh," returned ralph. "but what would a flier be doing away up here, going around and around in the dark of night?" "i don't know, and that's all i can say," replied the other; "but perhaps we may be able to find out. there it comes again, swinging around in a circle. if we all look sharp, we may be able to glimpse something up against the sky." "my stars! an _aeroplane_!" bud was muttering to himself, as he hastened to follow his companions away from the door in order to have a better range of observation. "of all the things that we could meet up here, an aeroplane! and me just pining away with yearning to see one in action! oh! don't i hope it turns out that way, though? do you see it yet, boys? when you do, please put me wise, won't you?" all of them were straining their eyes to make a discovery, and as it was possible to follow the course of the swiftly circling though as yet unseen object by listening to the rattle of its engine or propeller, they kept their attention directed to one particular quarter. "oh! i think i can see it now!" cried bud excitedly. "yes, we all do," added ralph. they continued to stare up at the moving object, which, as seen in that uncertain light, looked not unlike a monstrous bat with extended wings. the sound of the busily working machinery grew louder constantly. no wonder bud had been so perplexed when he heard all this, though more faintly, on the previous night and asked whether it could be possible to catch the sound of the mills many miles away. as the three scouts continued to stand there gaping at the dimly seen flier, a sudden terrific crash and vivid flash almost stunned them. indeed, bud crumpled up and might have fallen to the ground, only that he came in contact with hugh and received the support of his firm footing. the very ground shivered under them. it seemed as though some subterranean mine must have been exploded, causing the rockribbed earth to quiver in a sickening fashion. when they dared look up again, the queer bat-like object had vanished entirely from sight. voices were heard, however, close at hand. they told of more or less excitement; and coming with them was the sound of one or more persons pushing recklessly through the thickets that grew in many places as a second growth. presently even these noises died away and a dead silence reigned. by then, bud managed to regain possession of his voice. "oh, another terrible meteor! why, we must be right in the middle of a shower of shooting stars! and let me tell you, that one hit the earth not a great way off, too! i'm going to take a look in the morning and see if i can find it. they say that college professors often pay big sums for being set on the track of these meteors that bury themselves in the ground. what if she had dropped right down on top of this shanty, boys? i'm glad we got off as well as we did, aren't you, hugh?" hugh did not answer. evidently he was thinking deeply at that particular moment. there was indeed plenty to concern him in connection with the mysterious aeroplane that nightly circled the region, always accompanied by that strange explosion. "seems to me i can smell something queer like burnt powder," bud presently remarked. "do meteors explode when they hit the earth, hugh?" and would they send out a rank odor like that?" "i don't happen to be up in the doings of meteors, bud," answered the other, "but i should think it might be something like that. we'll all take a look after breakfast, and see what we can find. perhaps it may surprise us. this seems to be a general all-around surprise party for the lot of us. we were taken aback to find ralph here in the old shack; he had his surprise when he watched those two men carry on so queerly; then we had the shock last night of hearing thunder and seeing lightning when the sky was clear; after that, the fellow looking in at the window startled us. you were a little surprised your self, i reckon, bud, at your success in trying out your stability device as applied to aeroplanes. and now comes the discovery that one of the air craft is skimming around here nightly, doing some stunt that we can't understand yet." "we ought to call this camp surprise, then," announced ralph. "that's what," echoed bud. "now let us go in again," suggested hugh. "it seems as if the fireworks might be all over for this particular night. even the aeroplane has gone off where none of us can hear the motor working any longer." "perhaps she dropped to the ground," remarked bud. "there might be another open place not far away, like the old field where we tried out my little model this morning. and say, doesn't it strike you as funny that just one solitary meteor should take a notion to explode each night?" no one answered this question, though bud was too busy pondering on the run of strange events that had fallen to their share of late to notice the lack of interest his comrades seemed to take in the matter. once inside, they again sat around talking. it was ralph this time who gave utterance to a certain fact that had been in his mind, which interested both his chums as soon as they heard it. "i don't know," he started to say soberly, "whether either of you happened to notice it, but there seemed to be something foreign about the voices we heard after the big noise. not a single word could i understand, either, and yet they seemed to be pretty near by." "i didn't happen to notice that, ralph," hugh observed seriously; "but if the men who spoke were your mysterious friends of the other day, one thing is sure---they weren't the ones who sat in that speeding monoplane." "eh? how do you know that?" queried bud, becoming deeply interested. "well, in the first place," suggested ralph, not waiting for hugh's reply, "the sound of voices came from the same level as our own location. i'm dead sure of that fact. then again we could hear the swish of brush, and i even caught the sound of men crashing through thickets and falling over logs." "yes," added hugh, "and it struck me that they were in something like a blue fright, as though the nearness of that explosion had given them a bad scare. only a sudden panic could make men rush through thickets as recklessly as they were going." "everybody may not like meteors to drop all around 'em," bud muttered; "and i can't blame the fellows much, either. i came near being knocked flat on my back, myself, when that one let go with a bang. my ears are ringing yet, and i'm afraid i'll go deaf if i have to hear much more of that sort of cannonading." although they continued to sit up for some little time and talk, hugh did not see fit to mention certain suspicions that had taken root in his own mind. he believed he was on the track of the truth, but until he had a little more positive evidence he hesitated to speak out boldly. they finally settled down and tried to sleep. bud seemed to find little difficulty in forgetting all his troubles and triumphs, for his heavy breathing quickly announced that he was dead to the world. with the other two it was a more protracted task, and possibly they turned over as many as half a dozen times before surrendering drowsily to the god of slumber. there was no further trouble during the balance of that night, the second they had spent in the old shack. saturday morning dawned with a clear sky, and it looked as though the day might be a repetition of the two previous ones. this gratified the scouts very much, for no matter how seasoned a camper may be, the weather has considerable to do with his enjoyment. if rain continues to pour down, there is very little pleasure to be found in spending hours or days under canvas or the leaking roof of a cabin, wishing in vain for a break in the weeping clouds. and so the three lads expressed themselves as contented when they broke out from the shelter of the shack on that morning and found the conditions so favorable. bud hoped to make another try with his model before noon, since they expected to be on the move shortly afterward. there was a long hike before them ere they could expect to reach the road leading home, where possibly a wagon might be hired to help get them into town again. one thing pleased them, and this was the fact that for the most part the return journey would be down-grade. in consequence they expected to make the distance separating them from the road in about half the time it had taken in coming. bud hurried through the morning meal. indeed, ralph even joked him on his seeming lack of appetite; for as a rule bud was a good feeder and came second only to billy worth, long recognized as champion in the troop. "well, you see," bud explained, "there are a whole lot of important things i mean to do to-day, and the sooner i get busy the better chance i'll have to go through the list. first thing of all is to take a little tramp around toward the west of the camp, to see if i can stumble on the place where that last old shooting star struck us. i'm going to look sharp for a hole, because it seems to me such a big lump of iron and other ore would smash into our earth at a pretty lively clip." "hold on a minute and let's start fair!" called out ralph. "we're just as anxious as you are to make some sort of discovery, eh, hugh?" "some sort, yes," the patrol leader admitted, with a queer little smile that bud noticed, but could not understand just then. so the three boys started to comb the immediate vicinity of the shack, spreading out in something like a fan formation. they took to the west, because all of them seemed to be of one opinion: that the dreadful crash had come from that particular quarter. now and then one of them would call out or give the wolf signal, just to inform the others where he happened to be. in this manner some ten minutes went by and hugh was thinking that the explosion must have been much further away than any of them had suspected at the time, when bud was heard giving tongue. bud, when excited, always broke loose and allowed himself free rein. "come this way, boys!" he was shouting gleefully. "i've run the old meteor to earth. my stars! what a terrible hole she did make! must be as big as a house!" chapter viii uncle sam's flying squadron "_how---oo---ooo_!" ralph gave the long-drawn cry of the timber wolf as he hurried in the direction of bud's shouts. hugh speedily joined him, coming from some side quarter, and the pair were soon closing in on the other scout. they found bud clinging to a shattered sapling and staring down into a gaping aperture that looked big enough for the excavation of a church cellar. all around were evidences of a most tremendous explosion or upheaval, some trees being actually shattered and others leaning over as though ready to fall. "talk to me about your meteors," burst out the wondering bud as he saw the others coming along, "i hope to goodness one of them never drops down on our roof at home. just looky here what it did to the poor old earth! that sky traveler's as big as the parsonage, i should think." hugh turned to ralph. "no doubt about what happened now, is there?" he asked. "well, i should say not," came the answer, as ralph stared down into the hole. "must be some new sort of explosive they're experimenting with," added the patrol leader seriously; "and to look at that gap you'd believe it beats dynamite all hollow. drop a bomb made of that stuff on a fort, and goodby to the whole business." "w---what's that?" exclaimed the wondering bud. "do you mean to tell me that it wasn't a meteor that made all that racket the last two nights?" "so far as i know," hugh told him, "when a meteor drops down, it buries itself in the earth and gradually cools off, for it's been made almost red-hot by passing so swiftly through space. but it doesn't, as a rule, burst and tear a horrible slash in the ground like this." "then what made it, hugh?" asked the other, evidently puzzled. "a dropped bomb!" "a bomb, you say? oh, hugh, that was why the old aeroplane kept circling all around, wasn't it? they were picking out some place to make a big hole! whee! no wonder then they came up here to this lonely place to try things out. a farmer'd be apt to kick like a steer if he waked up some fine morning and found holes like this in his garden or field. it's good we didn't happen to be standing here when they dropped the bomb, as you call it." "i had an idea of something like this last night," hugh said; "but thought best not to mention it until i could see my way clearer. but now the last doubt has gone, and i know the truth." "but hugh, who could it be trying out this awful explosive, and wanting to do it where no curious eyes could watch the operation?" "i don't know that, bud, but we can guess. it must be either some company in the market with explosives, or else the government itself trying to see how the flying squadron, as they call their aerial arm of the service, could work in time of actual war." "say, if they could drop bombs like that just, where they wanted," remarked bud admiringly, "i'd pity the enemy, whether japanese or german or anything else. just think of a great big bat circling around in the darkness of night, sending down a searchlight, maybe, to pick out the right spot, and then, bang! good-by to your old fort or battleship! it would be all over before you could wink twice. and let me tell you, fellows, we've got the bully boys in the army to do this same stunt, if anybody on earth can!" "thank you for the compliment, my boy!" a quiet voice said this, and the three scouts looked up hastily to discover that a man clad in a faded suit of khaki was standing close by, watching them with an expression of amusement on his clear-cut face. there was something about his make-up that instantly convinced hugh of his connection with the aviation corps of the government service. this, then, would seem to prove that it was the army engaged in making these secret experiments with the new explosive, perhaps from a war aeroplane that may have been given over into the charge of the flying corps for trial. hugh immediately advanced toward the officer and gave the regular salute, as every scout is taught to do when he meets one who is above him in rank. to his delight, the other acknowledged the salute immediately. "we are boy scouts belonging to a town some miles away from here," hugh started to explain. "and what are you doing here?" inquired the officer pleasantly. "we came up to watch one of my chums experiment with a device he believes he has discovered," replied hugh. "for the last two nights we have been puzzled to understand what that terrible roar and flash meant. at first, we thought a meteor had fallen; but when it came again last night and we saw the aeroplane swinging around up there in the sky, i began to believe there was some connection between them. and now that we've found this hole in the ground, i know it shows where your bomb struck, lieutenant." "yes, that is what happened," remarked the officer. "i came here this morning to take notes, so that i could make a full report of our practice. we have not thought it necessary to make use of our searchlight so far when dropping a bomb; but now that we know others besides ourselves are up here, we must be more careful. perhaps i would hesitate to say all this to most people whom i happened to meet by accident, but i know what boy scouts are and how devoted they have always proved to patriotic motives. i'm positively certain that nothing could tempt one of you lads to betray any confidence i placed in you." "thank you, sir," said hugh, flushing with keen pleasure at hearing such words of praise from an army officer. "and perhaps you may not know that there are others up here who seem to be deeply interested in all that you are doing." "what is that, my boy?" exclaimed the other, showing sudden interest. "why, by chance my friend here, ralph kenyon, who has trapped all through this section in years gone by, saw two men talking and acting in a strange way. they've been spying on us, too, while we've occupied the old shack close by. they even crept in while we were off yesterday, to steal some plans of an aeroplane improvement which this other scout, bud morgan, had carelessly left there." "two men, you say," the officer commented, knitting his brows with sudden suspicion and uneasiness. "could you tell whether they seemed to look like natives or foreigners, son and he wheeled so as to face ralph as he asked this. "i had an idea that one looked like a japanese and the other a german," the boy answered promptly. at this, the army man rubbed his chin and seemed to consider. "i've taken you into my confidence so far already, boys," he observed presently, "that i suppose i might as well go right along and tell you everything. we are up here, representing the flying squadron of the army, to experiment with a new war aeroplane much more powerful than anything before devised; also to ascertain whether there is any truth in the wild claims put forth by the inventor of the latest explosive, that his discovery must make war so horrible that nations would be compelled to keep the peace after this. and, judging from what that one small bomb did here, i fancy he was not mistaken in his estimate. we could destroy the largest battleship afloat as easy as to snap our fingers. of course there are secret agents of numerous great powers constantly floating around in washington, trying to learn what uncle sam has up his sleeve in the way of new inventions calculated to destroy the enemy in time of war. and we have feared all along that one or more of these spies may have gotten on our track. i'm very much gratified with what you have told me, for now we know what to expect, and can avoid taking any unnecessary risk." "would these foreign spies dare attempt to ruin your war aeroplane, or try to blow you all up with some of your own explosive?" asked ralph. "i wouldn't put it past them," replied the other. "they are playing a desperate game, you understand, and have their orders from the home governments to keep us from forging ahead too fast. but i haven't introduced myself as yet. i am lieutenant fosdick, and i have had some little experience in army aviation." "i wonder if you can be the same lieutenant fosdick i've heard so much about from our scout master, a retired army officer named lieutenant denmead?" hugh ventured to say eagerly. "well, this _is_ a pleasure to be sure!" remarked the other smilingly. "to be sure i know denmead. i saw a great deal of him several years ago. and so he is spending his spare time in teaching the young idea how to shoot, but with the arms of peace rather than those of bloody war? he was always crazy over boys, and must be a cracking good scout master, because he knows so much of western life among the indians. he was with miles in the sioux war long ago, as you may know. but what was this you said about one of your mates inventing something in connection with the management of aeroplanes? that would seem to be right in my line, and if he has no serious objections, i'd like to hear about it." at that, bud turned fiery red, but with pleasure more than embarrassment. it was a crowning triumph in his career to find himself an object of interest in the eyes of so famous an aviator as lieutenant fosdick, of whom he remembered reading quite frequently as the most fearless air pilot in the flying squadron of uncle sam. encouraged by the winning smile on the bronzed face of the army officer, bud only too gladly started to explain what his hopes were. "i'd like to see this wonderful little model of yours in action, son," the experienced air pilot remarked afterwards. "suppose all of you come over to our headquarters, which happen to be not more than half a mile away from here. we have a fine open spot where we can ascend and alight with ease, day or night. you will be welcome, i assure you. we have a dozen men there besides those connected with the war aviation corps, simply to guard against any spies giving us trouble. if you can go now, i'd be pleased to wait for you, so as to pass you through the lines." "how long will it take you to get your little machine dismantled, so we can handle it, bud?" asked hugh. "oh! i can do it in a jiffy, because, you see, it's fixed for taking apart," the inventor of the party hastened to declare. so lieutenant fosdick accompanied them to the shack. while bud busied himself with his model, ralph and hugh chatted with the army officer. he asked more questions concerning bud and the idea he had been trying out. "it would seem as though your friend might have a touch of genius about him somewhere," the aviator said with a smile, "though i'm afraid that he's too late with that wonderful stability device, because it is very similar to one the wright brothers got out some time ago. that's the way it often happens, and many a man has studied some clever thing out only to find that he has been anticipated by some earlier inventor. but say nothing about this for the present. your friend surely deserves to have a little glory out of the game before the blow falls. and i shall be curious to see how he manages with this model of his, for it looks good to me." evidently bud had found favor with the army man. even though doomed to disappointment with regard to his wonderful invention, the boy might derive satisfaction in knowing that his work had not been entirely in vain. when half an hour had passed, bud declared everything in readiness for the change of base; and soon the boys were accompanying the skilled aviator through the woods headed for the camp of the flying squadron. chapter ix friends in khaki while they were pushing laboriously onward through the woods, overcoming all manner of obstacles, lieutenant fosdick gave the scouts a pleasant surprise. "one reason why i asked you to visit our camp," he remarked, "was because i fancied all of you might be glad of a chance to take a spin aloft in an aeroplane. you may like that, if it happens that you've never enjoyed the experience up to now." hugh immediately turned to the army man and expressed his pleasure. "i've often hoped to have a chance to go up," he said, "but hardly thought it would happen so soon. and we'll all be only too glad to accept your invitation." "i should say so," added ralph. bud did not say a single word, and turning to ascertain why, the officer found a smile of the "kind that won't come off" spreading all the way across his face. it was evident that bud was too happy for words. he had long dreamed of spinning through the upper currents in one of those bustling airships that are becoming more common every day; but, like hugh, he had not expected the golden opportunity to be sprung upon him so soon. as they walked along, the officer once more started to question them regarding the two strange men who seemed to be hanging about without any known business to keep them up in this unsettled region. "i think you said that one of them looked in through the window of your shack night before last, and then fled when you let him see that he had been discovered?" he remarked to hugh. "yes, and we made sure that he had been there by examining the soil under the window. it is a part of a scout's education, you know, sir, looking for signs. we found them, too, marks of a long narrow shoe, that told us the man could never be a hobo but must be a gentleman. after they had rummaged through our cabin while we were away, we found the same marks before the door, and indenting tracks of our own, so that proved just when the fellows must have been around." the army officer nodded his head and laughed softly. "i understand what you mean, son," he remarked, "and it quite tickles me to know how clever our boys are getting under the influence of this new scout movement. it is bound to wake up most lads and set them to thinking for themselves, years before they would have been aroused under the old way. and i must say i'm heartily in sympathy with the work of the association. it's the finest thing that ever happened for the boys of america. if i had sons, they should everyone of them join one of your troops as soon as they were old enough." "we forgot to tell you, sir, about hearing those two men rushing through the dense woods and thickets just after the explosion last night. they seemed to act as if more or less frightened; and i guessed that they may have had a narrow escape from being struck by your bomb." at that, the other burst into a laugh. "that is a rich joke," he declared. "possibly in the excitement of the moment, after being knocked down by the shock, they may have suspected that we knew of their presence and were trying to encompass their destruction. but i am glad it happened that way. perhaps they may have more respect for uncle sam's flying squadron after this, and fight shy of running their heads into trouble. i'll have the guards at the camp doubled at night time, and any straggler will be apt to find it pretty warm around there: i'd advise all persons who have no business at our headquarters to give the camp a wide berth, or something not down on the bills might happen, to their surprise and consternation as well." "if you haven't run across these men, sir," hugh remarked, "of course you could hardly say who they might be." "i can give a pretty good guess, though," came the prompt reply. "we have been dogged by a pair of spies on former occasions, the one a short jap, and the other, much taller, undoubtedly a german. both of them happen to be famous aviators in their own countries, which was doubtless why they were sent out to discover what the flying squadron was doing up here in secret." "i suppose their main objects would be to learn the composition of this latest thing in explosives, and to take note of your war aeroplane, so as to steal the improvements," hugh went on to say, being desirous of learning all he could while the other was in this communicative frame of mind. "they would actually have to examine the flier before they could learn what it represents to the army aviation corps; and we keep it closely guarded all the time we are not in the air. so much of a secret are several things connected with this monoplane, that i cannot mention them, even to such patriotic chaps as you are." "and we don't blame you, sir, surely we don't!" exclaimed bud promptly. "us inventors have to be pretty careful how we let people see what we've struck! lots of ideas have been stolen before now. if my little scheme turns out what i hope it's going to, i think i'll hand it over to the government for use with their war aeroplanes. wouldn't it be just great if a pilot could give his whole attention to the job of dropping bombs and such like, never bothering himself about the wind currents or anything else? the little morgan controller would manage all such things automatically. as the saying is, you press the button and we'll do all the rest!" hugh did not arouse poor bud from this happy dream. what was the use? better let him have a little more pleasure out of it before confronting him with the cold facts acts in the case. he must learn soon enough that he was several years too late, and that those wonderful fathers of aviation in america, the wrights, had covered the identical ground some time previous with their fool-proof flier. luckily they did not have a great distance to go. the boys, who were staggering under their loads, could not have kept it up much longer, and all of the little party rejoiced when the air pilot announced that they were now within sight of their destination. presently they heard voices ahead. then came a sudden whirr of machinery. "my associate, lieutenant green, is going to take a little spin for some reason or other," their escort told them. "you see, we can reconnoiter the ground wonderfully from several hundred feet altitude; so that we have on several occasions indulged in a flight just in order to scout the land. we discovered your presence some time yesterday, and were at first greatly puzzled on account of your khaki suits. we even tried to figure out how a trio of soldiers belonging to the home guard could be camping out in that way. to tell the truth, it was not until i stood by and listened to you talking about that hole in the forest, that i grasped the true state of affairs." when a large aeroplane built after the monoplane model swiftly arose and went spinning off, bud stared as though his whole heart was in his gaze. he even dropped the burden he had on his back and rubbed his eyes, as if to make sure it could not be a dream. "so that's what you call a war aeroplane, is it?" he asked eagerly. "the company building them for the government meant them for that particular purpose," lieutenant fosdick told him. "then they are different from all others, i take it?" hugh advanced. "in many respects," was the frank reply. "in the first place they are much stronger than the ordinary monoplane. in case an attack is intended on the enemy's redoubts, they may be compelled to carry heavy loads in the shape of combustibles and explosives. besides that, they have the recent improvements which i mentioned before as being secret, but which will add considerably to their effectiveness. the wires used as guys are all heavier than customary, the motor is stronger, and the planes better able to resist shocks. i have never seen a santos dumont or a bleriot monoplane anything equal to this new departure." "it's almost gone out of sight already," declared bud with a thrill of awe in his ambitious voice. "yes, although my colleague was boring upward at the time we last saw him; but the speed of that machine is marvelous. no wonder these foreign spies take the great chances they do, hoping to learn what uncle sam is up to. if they could carry back full information concerning the new explosive and the novel features of that splendid monoplane, it would be worth a million dollars, yes, many times that, to their respective governments. germany, you know, claims to have the best equipped corps of aviators in the world, just as she has the most remarkable army. and japan, too, is jealous of being left in the mad race, so she sends out spies to learn all that is going on." all these things were exceedingly interesting to the three scouts. they were patriotic boys, like all scouts. though studying the arts of peace rather than those of cruel war, love of country was a cardinal virtue held up constantly before their eyes by lieutenant denmead. should danger of any type menace the defenders of the flag, boys like these would be among the first to want to enlist. the boy scout movement was never intended to discourage a love of country. and if war ever does come to the land we all love, thousands of those who rally to her defense will be found to have once been wearers of the khaki as boy scouts. the camp of the flying corps was now seen ahead of them. a challenge from a sentry and the giving of the countersign in a whisper by the lieutenant, told the lads that they were actually in a military camp. of course this was not their first experience among genuine soldiers, though those whom they once before assisted in the yearly maneuvers as signal corps operators had properly belonged to the state militia. these men were seasoned regulars, serving the government in the capacity of aviators and members of the flying squadron. lieutenant fosdick loaned them a pair of glasses through which they could keep track of the distant aeroplane. they saw it perform several queer "stunts," as bud called it, that caused them considerable astonishment. "why, say, it turned completely over that time, just as neat as you please!" bud exclaimed, so interested that the others could not get the glasses away from him again. "there she goes a second time, as slick as anything! i've done the like from a springboard when in swimming, but i never would have believed anybody'd have the nerve to loop the loop three thousand feet up in the air. oh! what if it didn't come right-side up again! what a drop that would be!" "taking chances every time, and that is what our lives are made up of mostly in the flying corps," the officer said grimly, with a shrug. "any day may see our end; but like the men who drop from balloons with a parachute, we get so accustomed to peril that it never bothers us. constant rubbing up against it makes a man callous, just as working with the hands hardens the palms." "they seem to be heading back now," observed ralph. "yes, my colleague has accomplished the object of his little flight, which was partly to practice that turn and partly to look for any signs of spies in the forest below. we're always thinking of interlopers, you see, though up to the time you gave me that information concerning the two men, i hadn't seen a trace of any watchers around. they must have kept pretty well under cover all the time." "and might have continued to do so, only that our coming bothered them," ralph commented. "they didn't know what to make of us. we seemed to be only boys, and yet we dressed like uncle sam's soldiers; and then there was bud trying out his aeroplane model. that must have stirred them up some. perhaps they thought, after all, that we might be the ones from whom they could steal an idea well worth while." "i wouldn't be surprised in the least," said lieutenant fosdick. "and at any rate we're under heavy obligations to you boys for bringing this important information about the spies. i'll try to make your stay here interesting to you, in return." chapter x up in a war monoplane "we're certainly in great luck!" hugh said to the other two scouts, as they stood and watched the "bug in the sky" growing larger and larger, the monoplane being now headed for the camp. "it nearly always happens that way, you remember," said bud, who had been through frequent campaigns with his leader and could look back to many experiences that come the way of but few boy scouts. bud was probably much more excited than either of the others. this was natural, since he had the "flying bee" largely developed and was wild over everything that had to do with aviation. to him, this accidental meeting with the bold members of uncle sam's flying squadron was the happiest event of his whole life. if he had been granted one wish, it would have covered just this same ground. consequently his eyes fairly devoured the approaching war monoplane, as it swept down from dizzy heights, and prepared to land in the open field. he watched how skilfully the air pilot handled the levers, and how gracefully the whole affair glided along on the bicycle wheels attached under its body, when once the ground was touched. the scouts were soon being introduced to lieutenant green by the officer whose acquaintance they had already made. the associate of fosdick proved to be an older man, but the boys believed that after all their first friend must be the controlling influence of the team. they afterwards learned that lieutenant fosdick was really without a peer among army aviators; and that even abroad, where so much attention is given to this subject, in france, germany and england, he was said to have no superior in his line. as both officers expressed considerable interest in the clumsy model of a monoplane which bud had made, he readily consented to fly it and to show just how his stability device worked. this he set about doing, while the army men stood close together and observed all his movements, now and then exchanging low words. of course both of them recognized the fact that poor bud had really hit upon the exact idea that was already being used by the wright firm. bud may never have read any description of this "fool-proof" device emanating from the brains of the wright brothers; he had only been unfortunate enough to think along the same lines, with the result that he had finally reached the same conclusion. "break it to bud by slow degrees that he's arrived much too late," said lieutenant fosdick to hugh, after the exhibition had about concluded. the young inventor was flushed with success, for his model had worked splendidly, now that he had had more experience in handling it. "i feared as much when i heard about it," his colleague admitted. "but the boy certainly deserves encouragement. he has done wonders in making that model, and it is built on right lines. tell him to keep at it and not get discouraged. if he does, he will surely arrive some day." "i'll do all i can to encourage him," the patrol leader of the wolves said in reply, though at the same time he felt sorry for bud, who would take his disappointment very much to heart. he might throw up the whole business under the impression that there was no use in a boy trying to pit his wits against those of veterans and expecting to win out. when bud heard that he might accompany lieutenant fosdick on a short flight in the upper air, he looked so happy that hugh concluded to postpone his discouraging disclosure until another time. bud was an animated interrogation point, when once seated in the monoplane, which, having been built for hard service, was easily capable of carrying even two passengers when necessary. he wanted to know all about the various parts, which he examined with trembling fingers. it seemed almost too good to be true that he was actually going to be taken up in a government war plane, and by so skilful an aviator as lieutenant fosdick. the army officer made sure to secure his young passenger with a safety belt. he might scorn such devices himself, but there was always more or less risk to an inexperienced air traveler, and he did not wish to take unnecessary chances. this lad had folks at home to whom his life must be very precious. he was only a boy, to be sure, but ere long he would reach man's estate. and in this country of ours, who can say what the future holds for any lad? years ago, who among his school companions on mt. auburn, in cincinnati, would have dreamed that in the course of time clumsy, good-natured billy taft would for a period of four years occupy the presidential chair at washington, and be looked upon as the foremost man in all the wide world? hugh and ralph kept tabs of every little thing that was done. they found themselves sharing bud's enthusiasm for the subject of aviation, and they, too, were promised a ride with the officer after his return. at a given signal, the start was made. the big monoplane rushed along the ground, wobbling somewhat because of inequalities in the surface of the field. after it had gone a certain distance, it was seen to leave the earth gradually, as the pilot changed the conditions in respect to planes and rudder. "oh! see how she rises, for all the world like a graceful bird!" exclaimed ralph. "i've never been so close to an aeroplane before, and i tell you, hugh, i can mighty easily see how it makes a fellow wild to embark in the business." "well, there will be some years pass before anyone of us reaches an age to decide what our future may be," hugh replied; "and before that time comes, even bud, crazy as he seems now to belong to the flying squadron, may change his mind a lot of times. but one thing i do know, and that is, i'm glad we struck up an acquaintance with the lieutenant; and ditto, that i'm going to have a spin with him in the air." they watched the monoplane mount fairly high and make several large curves. apparently the pilot did not think it best to try any difficult business while he had a novice along with him, because there was no telling how bud might act. after being up some twenty minutes, the monoplane was once more directed toward the field. "oh! see what he is doing now!" exclaimed ralph, clutching the sleeve of his companion's coat in his excitement. "he's headed the nose of the air craft downward, and seems to be just whooping it up for solid ground! i hope nothing has happened, or that they'll strike hard, for poor bud will be smashed, that's what!" hugh laughed, for he was much better informed on all aviation topics than the other scout. "oh! that's what they call volplaning," he hastened to say, while he watched the coming of the air craft with eagerness. "the motor is shut off, and deflecting the rudder to a certain angle, a glide is made toward the earth. when they get to a certain distance, you'll see a sudden change take place. there, what did i tell you, ralph?" the monoplane had abruptly ceased to shoot toward the earth as though falling. it made a sudden turn and proceeded almost on the level; after which the pilot brought it so softly to the ground that bud could barely feel it strike, such an expert was the lieutenant in manipulating the various levers. bud was almost speechless with delight. his eyes fairly danced as he drew a long breath and shook the hand of the army officer. "ralph, you come next," said the lieutenant; and somehow hugh got the idea into his head that he had been reserved for the last because the officer wished to take him for a longer spin than either of his mates, for some reason or other. and so ralph allowed himself to be fastened in his seat alongside the pilot, and gravely listened to the same instructions that had been given to bud, since much depended on his actions while navigating the upper air currents. he waved his hand to his chums as the monoplane started to race along the level field, accumulating speed as it progressed, until presently at a given point it pointed upwards and started on its air voyage. ralph was given about the same experience as bud. another little volplane act was carried out for his especial benefit, so that he might be able to boast of having experienced such a "stunt," a favorite one among all aviators and not one-tenth as risky as it may seem to the uninformed. and now came hugh's turn. he fastened himself in, having taken pattern by what he had seen the pilot do on the previous occasions; for a scout is expected to have his eyes about him and to observe all that is going on, so that he knows for himself and does not have to be shown. even this little act convinced the observant lieutenant that his first conception of hugh's character had been a true one. he realized just why that boy had been chosen to serve as leader of his patrol, and in the absence of both scout master and assistant, had more than once been given full charge of the entire troop. it was certainly a most exhilarating sensation to hugh when he felt the big war aeroplane start away from solid ground and begin to climb upward. looking down, he could see how fast they were really going. why, it seemed as though the earth could no longer be counted his abiding place, but that he must be headed for the planet mars, or perhaps the moon. the higher up they went, the more delightful the sensation became. hugh soon became used to the novel feeling, so that he could enjoy looking down upon the country over which they were passing. it was an experience that far excelled anything he had ever gone through before. he told the pilot that he did not wonder men found it hard to leave such a fascinating if dangerous business, when once they had started to follow it. "there is an old saying about politicians," remarked the lieutenant, "to the effect that few die and none resign. that can never be said about aviators, because, while none of them ever give it up for good, the fatalities have been very numerous. but when that stability device which your friend believes he has invented, but which he may have read about somewhere and unconsciously copied, comes into general use, we hope the deaths will become much less frequent. i am using a stability device right now on this monoplane. it was installed by the firm that patented it. you can see how it acts automatically to steady the machine, no matter how we move about. and i am almost as safe up in a squally wind as on a calm day." he took hugh much higher than he had the others, as the barograph that was within seeing distance from their seat told the boy, who had learned how to read its figures. half an hour later they came back toward the field again, and descended to lower currents. the picture hugh gazed upon as he looked down would never be forgotten. he could see for miles and miles in every direction; and how different the country looked from anything he had ever imagined! all at once hugh made a discovery. "i am almost certain i saw two men hide themselves in that patch of bushes ahead there," he hastily told the pilot; "and it seemed to me that they must be the pair of spies who have been giving you so much trouble. they were creeping toward the camp as if they meant to try and steal in the back way." the lieutenant laughed as though pleased. "good for you, hugh," he remarked. "those sharp eyes of yours let nothing escape. now we'll just circle around a bit and give those precious foreigners the scare of their lives. i happen to have a supply of small experimental bombs along, which are heavy enough to frighten them into believing one of the new explosives may follow, after we have the range. watch out for some fun, my son!" chapter xi good-by to the foreign spies when hugh saw the air pilot reach back and take a small black object from a box attached to the body of the monoplane close to the gasoline tank, he knew that those skulkers below were in for a lively time of it. undoubtedly they had been creeping toward the rear of the camp with the hope either of picking up valuable information, or finding a chance to make way with precious plans connected with this latest war airship which uncle sam was trying out, and which possessed features far in advance of anything known abroad. at a certain second, when he judged that he could drop the bomb very close to where the couple were secreted, the lieutenant hastened to do this. almost immediately afterwards he caused the monoplane to make a curve, so that they would be in shape to circle around that particular spot and repeat the bombardment as long as the supply of missiles held out. twisting his head so that he could watch the result, hugh's gaze followed the descending bomb until it struck the ground. instantly there was a pretty loud racket and the dirt flew, although this missile undoubtedly contained but a small portion of the new and terrible explosive, being intended only for experimental purposes in the way of gauging distances correctly. the two spies instantly sprang into view and started to dash madly away. they undoubtedly labored under the impression that once the range had been properly found, one of those fearful projectiles would be dropped down on them. no doubt they had before now examined the great hole in the earth showing where aviators had dropped one of the larger bombs, and knew what to expect in case such a missile fell anywhere near them. "you've given them a bad scare already, sir!" remarked hugh, greatly enjoying the experience, although it made him think of a fable in one of his earlier books concerning the sport of stoning that was "fun for the boy but death to the frogs." "that is only a beginning," declared the lieutenant. "this monoplane is so well constructed that we can hover over them, no matter what they do, just as a hawk shadows a rabbit." indeed, the entire performance did remind hugh of occasions when he had watched a red-tailed hawk chasing a frightened bunny, now slowing up on quivering pinions, then making numerous pretended lunges in order to frighten the quarry still more, and finally ending the pursuit by a well-directed swoop that gave the bird of prey its fine dinner. the two men were bewildered as well as alarmed. another bomb exploded close behind them, and started them off on a new tack. run which way they might, it seemed as though that terrible enemy in the air kept hovering above them, sending a little black object shooting earthward every half dozen seconds, to be followed by a sudden crash, many times magnified in their excited imaginations. once the taller man started to fire his automatic revolver upwards, as though in sheer desperation he hoped to cause the air pilot to give over the chase. the reports sounded like the detonation of toy fire-crackers to hugh; and if the bullets came as far as the monoplane, he heard nothing that sounded like their passing. dodging this way and that as though almost panic-stricken, the spies finally betook themselves into the sheltering forest. before they could hide under the branches of the oaks, the tall man was seen to stumble at the top of a rather steep declivity and roll all the way to the bottom, as though he might be a barrel that some mischievous lad had started downhill for the fun of seeing it jump. some seven of the little bombs had been used by the time both men vanished into the shelter of the woods a mile or so away from camp. the lieutenant was laughing heartily as though he had enjoyed the diversion greatly. "i imagine that will settle them, all right, hugh," he remarked, as he once more turned the aeroplane back toward home. at the same time he mounted higher for the final volplane downward. since the other boys had enjoyed this novel sensation, it would be too bad if the patrol leader did not have the same chance to experience it. "do you think after that bombardment that they'll be apt to clear out and give over trying to learn what uncle sam is up to?" hugh asked. "that is my impression," replied the other. "all they can have learned is that we have a new explosive that excels all known destructive forces as five to one; and that our latest model of a war aeroplane bids fair to eclipse anything known in foreign parts. after all is said and done, son, you can trust the inventive ability of the yankee to see anything done by others and go them one better. that is because we are the melting pot for all nations, and rewards for genius are so much greater here than abroad, that it spurs us all on to achieve wonderful things. it's a great privilege, hugh, just to know that you are a nativeborn american. never forget to be thankful for it." apparently this daring aeronaut was intensely patriotic. hugh felt drawn toward him more than ever on this account, because he had his own ideas on this subject, and they coincided with those of lieutenant fosdick. that volplane, started from a much higher altitude than either bud or ralph had reached, would never be forgotten by the patrol leader. his breath seemed actually to be taken away as he felt himself shooting toward the earth, which, in fact, appeared to be rising swiftly to meet him. that is the sensation that a novice always feels under the circumstances. but at the proper second, the pilot shifted his rudder and the planes took on a new position that instantly stayed their downward plunge. this caused the monoplane to sail along gently, parallel with the field, to which it descended immediately afterwards in safety. of course the other scouts wondered what all that racket meant, although ralph had guessed something close to the truth. they started to ask questions at such a rate that hugh laughingly cried for quarter. "here, hold up a little," he interrupted, "and i'll tell you all about it. you see we happened to discover those two sneaking spies in the bushes, and the lieutenant said it would be a fine chance to give them such a scare that they'd be only too glad to skip out and let things go for keeps. he had a lot of small experimental bombs along, and every time one dropped near where they were trying to hide, you'd have nearly taken a fit laughing to see how they skipped out and ran like mad." "guess they thought you'd drop one of the big ones after you got the range," suggested ralph. "that was what was scaring them," hugh agreed. "and after seeing what had happened when one of those exploded, you could hardly blame them for being panic-stricken. they were a mile away when last seen, and i reckon they're still on the full run. lieutenant fosdick says he doesn't think either of them will ever have the nerve to come back again." "huh! good riddance of bad rubbish," grunted bud. "i'd give something to see how they make out with the figuring i did on that paper they hooked from our shanty. they couldn't make head or tail of it in a year; so they are not likely to steal the idea of my wonderful stability device, which is luck enough for me for one day." hugh gave ralph a suggestive look, as though begging him not to say anything just then to hurt poor bud's dream of fame. later on, when they were back home again, they could break the sad news to him gently, as the officer had suggested. what was the use of spoiling his pleasure for that glorious day? they might never have another chance to be with the brave fellows of uncle sam's flying squadron; so it was just as well to make the most of their opportunity while it lasted. the lieutenant tried to coax them to stay longer, but hugh knew they must be on their way home shortly after noon, much as he wanted to remain. their folks might be anxious if they did not show up some time that evening; and the next day would be sunday, which was pretty strictly observed in their home town. the balance of their stay in the experimental camp was passed in trying to learn all they possibly could about things connected with aviation. "those who observe the trend of events closely," lieutenant green told them, as he only too gladly showed them many clever devices calculated to increase the efficiency of aeroplanes when in action, "are firmly convinced that should we ever get embroiled in a war with any first-class power, which we all hope will never happen, aeroplanes are bound to occupy a very important place in the field." "but i'm sure i read lately that there has been talk of limiting the activities of air craft in war times?" hugh questioned. "yes, and already it has been settled that bombs shall not be dropped into besieged cities where civilians may be killed, but only into forts and on war vessels," the army officer told them. "but, after all, that is only a small fraction of the uses to which a war aeroplane may be put. for scouting and learning the movements of troops, it is a wonder. no matter how skilful a general may be, his plans are all apt to go amiss if the quick movements of his forces are discovered by the airman from a mile above. the aviator may be well out of reach of any missiles modern guns can throw upward, but with his glasses he can watch every movement and signal the news to headquarters." the scouts were astonished to hear all this. "where would the genius of a napoleon have been," remarked lieutenant fosdick in turn, "if aeroplanes had been in common use as far back as waterloo? you may remember that the secret of his great success in battle was the mobility of his troops. he would divide his army and hurl a part of it so as to strike the enemy unexpectedly on the flank, timing his own frontal attack so as to complete the confusion. well, if the enemy had known what was coming they could easily have whipped the divided force of the great french leader in detail. the coming of man's mastery over the air will cause new and strange happenings in case of war. by degrees, fighting will become so terrible that all nations must unite in a bond to keep the peace forever." much more along these same lines did the three boy scouts hear from the two venturesome air pilots during the balance of their stay in the experimental camp. it was an experience they could never forget. ralph fairly hugged himself with satisfaction because he had obeyed the spirit that tempted him to pay a visit to his old camping grounds during the short thanksgiving holiday season. "think what i would have missed if i'd told myself it was foolish to waste my time out here, when i never expected to set a single trap again!" he declared, as the signal was given to tell them that dinner was ready and they prepared to join the two officers at their mess. "it's been one of the greatest times of my whole life," admitted bud, a happy grin on his face as he looked over at his crude but effective model of a monoplane, all done up, waiting transportation again; and hugh could easily guess what delightful dreams must be crowding through his chum's mind, which later on it must be his painful duty to dissolve. they certainly did enjoy that meal, eating heartily of the camp fare. at least uncle sam provided bountifully for those whom he employed in his new flying squadron, the boys told each other; for one of the men in camp was a real _chef_, and could get some mighty appetizing dishes together on occasion. as there were several pack animals available, lieutenant fosdick proposed that they load the model upon one of these. a soldier would accompany them as far as the nearest farm house on the road to town, where they could hire a vehicle, and then bring the animal back. when the time came to say good-by to the aviators, the boys all expressed their gratitude on account of the kindnesses they had received. "don't mention it," lieutenant fosdick replied, shaking each of the scouts by the hand; "the pleasure has all been on our side. and besides, you did us a great favor by warning us about those foreign spies. some time i hope we'll meet again. until then, the best of luck attend you, hugh, ralph and bud! goodby, lads!" chapter xii home again the three scouts intended stopping long enough at the lonely shack in the woods to look about, and see that they had forgotten nothing. all of them declared they had had the time of their lives, and would certainly never be apt to forget the remarkable experiences that had come their way. "there she is!" exclaimed bud, pointing ahead. "the cabin, you mean," ralph added, as he, too, caught a glimpse of the familiar shack which had given them such friendly shelter. "and it looks as quiet and peaceful as can be, too." "why, what else would you expect?" bud asked him. "hugh, didn't we close that door when we came away; seems to me i can remember doing the same, after you told me it was best?" "you certainly did pull it shut after you," hugh quickly replied. "well, it's part way open right now, you can see for yourself if it isn't," bud asserted strenuously. "that's right, it is, bud." "i wonder if the wind could have done it," the other mused. "it does play some queer pranks, i happen to know from past experiences. guess that fastening is a bad one, and don't hold worth a cent." "it's too late for us to bother fixing anything now, bud," said ralph; "though to tell you the truth i always thought the door held as tight as anything." "then what opened it, do you think?" demanded bud, as they continued to approach the shack, the soldier who was accompanying them to take back the horse interested in what they were saying. "i don't know, if you ask me point blank," ralph admitted, frankly. "it might have been that you didn't fasten it the right way. then again p'raps some one has passed along here, and stepped in to see if there was anything worth taking." "whee! i hope that last isn't the right answer," was what bud hastened to observe; "i've got a few little things there i'd hate to lose, let me tell you. now, if you come right down to---oh! hugh!" "what's the matter with you?" demanded the one whose name had been uttered so wildly. "didn't you see that---where were your eyes that you didn't see what poked out of the open door just then?" cried bud, coming to a complete standstill in his astonishment and perplexity. "i'm sorry to say that i didn't happen to be looking that way just when you spoke," hugh admitted. "but tell us what it was you saw, bud!" "a head! a bear's head!" exclaimed bud. "that begins to sound interesting," said ralph, as his face lighted up. "but ralph, you said there were no bears around here any more, so how could that be?" hugh asked, as he turned on the other. "hardly that, hugh; i told you i had never happened to run across one while trapping up here; but there was a time when they were said to be thick around this section; and who knows but what one may have wandered back, to see what the country promised him in the way of food." bud began dancing up and down in new excitement. "we did leave a lot of grub in there, fellows," he told them; "and chances are that the old black sinner has gone and spoiled what he couldn't eat. that's a habit with bears, i'm told; they're about as bad as hogs that way." "well, what are we going to do about it?" asked hugh, looking around at his two chums. "we've got a gun!" suggested bud. "but we didn't come up here to do any hunting, and besides, scouts as a rule don't go around gunning for game," said ralph. "hugh," said bud, trying to appear cool and collected, "you've got to decide this for us, because i look at it one way, and here's ralph saying it wouldn't be right for us to try and plug this old bear. will we just try to shoo him away, or give him a few cold chunks \ of lead?" hugh smiled and nodded to ralph. "you lose this time, bud," he said, "because i'm siding with ralph here. if we were really hungry and in need of food, of course i'd say we had a right to get fresh meat; but we're on our way home now, and seems to me it would be a shame to spoil all our splendid sport by being cruel to a poor old bear that doesn't know any better than to gobble flour and anything else he finds lying around loose." now bud was a good loser. perhaps after all he did not really feel as ferocious as he pretended; and to tell the truth might have been sorry if hugh had sided with him, so that war was declared upon the hairy invader of the shack. "how'll we get him out of there?" he proceeded to ask. "if he knows a good thing when he tastes it you bet he won't be in any hurry to leave." "how about you going in and telling him his room is better than his company?" asked hugh. "you'll have to excuse me this time, i'm afraid," bud quickly announced. "i pass it up to ralph here; he knows more about the way of animals in a minute than i do in a year." "can you fix him up, ralph?" questioned hugh, turning to the boy who had studied animals so long that he might be looked on as an authority. ralph was always willing to oblige. "to be sure i can, and will, hugh," he hastened to say, with one of his rare smiles. "the rest of you stay back here, and when he once gets clear of the door start to shouting as loud as you can." "which is to add to his alarm, i suppose?" suggested hugh. "just about what it is," and saying no more, ralph started for the cabin. they noticed that he did not approach from the front, and this explained that ralph had no intention of trying to enter the place while it had a hairy occupant. he had first gathered up something and made a bundle of it under one of his arms. bud, looking closely, believed that he knew what the other scout had collected. "dead weeds, as sure as anything! bears don't eat dried weeds, do they? if he had 'em dripping with wild honey p'raps it might do the business, because they say bears go crazy when they get sniff of honeycomb." "all of which is true enough, bud," hugh told him; "but when you think ralph expects to coax the bear to come out, you're barking up the wrong tree. it's my opinion force would be a much better word, because he means to compel him to vacate." "now you have got me guessing, hugh; if you know, please take me into the game. there, ralph's climbing up where the roof is lowest. it wasn't much of a boost for a fellow as active as he is. what d'ye think he'll do next?" "make for the chimney, unless i'm away off, which i don't think i am. there, you see he's up already. what does he seem to be doing now, bud?" "why, i declare if he isn't crunching all that dry stuff down the old chimney! oh! now i've got it, hugh! he's going to smoke the bear out!" "i shouldn't wonder but what that is just what he expects to do," chuckled hugh; "and let's watch and see how it works. ralph knows how much alarmed a bear will always get after smelling smoke. it seems to be a part of his nature to dread anything that has to do with fire. and in case he has had to hustle at some time in the past to save his bacon from a raging forest fire, of course it's all the worse. but ralph is getting ready to put a match to the dry stuff he has in the chimney. after he has it smouldering good i reckon he'll give the same a kick, and send it down into the fireplace. then watch him clap that short piece of board on top of the clay chimney, forcing all the smoke to ooze out into the cabin, filling it full." both boys, and the soldier as well, kept their eyes glued upon the figure of the scout on the roof of the cabin. ralph was taking his time. he usually did his work very systematically, and could be depended on to make a complete job of anything he undertook. "there, it's beginning to come out of the door, the smoke, i mean!" exclaimed the anxious bud. "i want to get a snap-shot of the event when the bear rushes out," said hugh; "because there are a lot of fellows these days who want to see the proof every time you tell them a story that seems out of the common run. the light is good right now, and i believe i can make a fair picture, with ralph pressing his board down on the chimney-top, and the smoke oozing out around him. now to see how much the prowler can stand for." "he peeked out just then, and must have seen us, hugh, because he pulled in again," bud shrilly cried. "guess he don't think much of human beings. he must have had some experience with the little shooting sticks they seem to just point straight at him, and then with the cough he feels an awful pain. p'raps he's a better smoker than you think. what if he just declined to run the gauntlet as long as we stand here." "it's only a question of time," hugh assured him. "he can only stand for so much, and then he'll make the rush, no matter what happens." "the smoke's coming out thicker and thicker, let me tell you," bud continued, fairly dancing in his nervous excitement. "if he can stand that much longer i'll believe he's a regular old salamander." "he won't," hugh assured him. "he's pretty nearly all in right now. twice we've seen him peek out as if he wanted to get the lay of the land, so he could make his rush. the third time he's apt to come. so everybody get your breath ready to let out a whoop that'll make him think the end of the world has arrived for keeps." "look! there he comes, hugh!" even as bud said this a bulky object rushed headlong out of the cabin door. it was the bear, doubtless already half-blinded with the bitter smoke that smarted his eyes and created a panic in his mind. immediately the two boys and the soldier set up a series of whoops that made the forest ring. ralph, too, joined in, and waved his hat from the roof of the cabin, even as hugh pressed the button, and snapped off the lively scene, with the frightened bear in full retreat. bud outdid himself in shouting, he was so tickled over the success of ralph's plan. twice he raised the double-barrel shotgun belonging to ralph, which the other had placed in his hands for safe-keeping before starting to evict the unwelcome guest who had taken to using their shack during their temporary absence. of course after what hugh had said, about not wanting to injure the bear, backed up as he had been by the third scout, it was far from bud's intention to pull either trigger, and wound the poor beast. but just like most boys he wanted to boast afterwards as to what "terrible things" he could have done had he cared to take the trouble. the bear must have received more or less of a shock, what with the smoke, and that volley of shouts greeting his appearance outside the cabin; for the way he galloped away was indeed comical. hugh laughed heartily, and then as ralph jumped off the low roof of the shack to join them, he complimented the one-time trapper on his knowledge of bruin's weak spots. "oh! that's an old story," ralph declared. "you never want to forget that all savage animals, except, perhaps the two-horned rhinoceros, which of course we don't have in this country, are afraid of fire. with a blazing torch you can pass safely through a woods where half a dozen hungry panthers are jumping about through the trees following you, but nine times out of ten not daring to make a leap as long as you swing that fire stick around your head." "is that so?" bud remarked; and then quickly added: "but how about the tenth time, ralph?" "oh! well," said the other, with a chuckle, "i guess they might take chances of the fire, and get you the tenth time, bud. but it's the best thing you can ever do if you're besieged by wolves, or any wild animals." "well," hugh interrupted, "now that our unwelcome visitor has taken his departure, and the cabin can be entered, let's get what truck we have left there together, and be heading for the road." they found that the bear had made inroads with regard to some of their provisions, but as they happened to be homeward bound it did not matter much. the rest of the things they gathered up, and were again ready for a continuance of their journey home. once more they were on the tramp. having nothing to carry, made things very easy for all hands. the miles they had to cover before reaching the road that would take them back to town did not appall them in the least, for they were used to making long hikes; besides, they had so much to talk about that almost before realizing it they had arrived at the first sign of civilization in the shape of the turnpike. half a mile down this road was a farmhouse, where hugh fancied they might hire some sort of conveyance to take them home. if this could not be had, possibly the up-to-date farmer had telephone connections with town, and over the wire they might influence the owner of the livery stable to send out a rig to take care of them. they were spared this long wait, however, because luckily enough the farmer happened to be going in town for supplies and readily made terms with the scouts to carry them and their bundles. so they said good-by to the soldier in khaki belonging to uncle sam's flying corps, and were soon passing along the homeward road. no doubt that farmer pricked up his ears and did considerable eager listening, when he began to hear what his three passengers were talking about. never having seen an aeroplane in all his life, and having only a faint conception of the wonderful uses to which the fliers could be put, the tiller of the soil gasped many times when he heard these mere lads tell of their feelings when half a mile up in the air. and when later on he chanced to discover from words let fall by bud, that the several packages in the back of the wagon contained a miniature aeroplane, the old man cast more respectful glances back at them. he also changed his manner toward the scouts, and even addressed hugh once as "mister hardin." in good time, long before the sun gave token of setting, they arrived in town; and bud was made happy in seeing his precious miniature flier safely deposited at his own door. he still had the look of one whose mind was soaring away up in the clouds and hugh did not have the heart to disillusion him just then. there would be no harm done in letting poor bud dream a little longer before giving him that rude if necessary jolt. hugh was more than satisfied with the result of their latest expedition. neither he nor bud, at the time they started out, could possibly have dreamed of the remarkable experiences that were fated to come their way. it had only been to enjoy one more little outing before winter came along in earnest and to learn what the scout inventor had accomplished, that had induced hugh to go forth immediately after eating his turkey at the thanksgiving feast. and there was ralph, who also had obeyed an inward mentor urging him to spend a day or so with his gun in the region where he had in times past trapped many a little fur-bearing animal, whose glossy coat he covet coveted as a means of eventually paying for his tuition in the school of mines. he had only expected to wander in some of his familiar nooks, and perhaps to knock over a few quail to tempt his sick mother's fickle appetite; but see what had come out of such humble beginnings! when the scouts had their next weekly meeting, hugh thought it worth while to give the troop some description of the events that had come the way of himself and his two chums. he purposely avoided more than casual mention of bud's invention, because he had found a chance to bring the other down from the heights where he had been sailing, and bud now knew that he had made his bright discovery "a mile too late," as he himself expressed it, looking exceedingly downcast at the time. of course the three were looked upon as the luckiest fellows ever known by the rest of the troop present. others among the boys had experienced some notable things since joining the troop and assisting the rival armies in the field of maneuvers as signal corps operators; but nothing that had come their way as half as wonderful as being taken up in a genuine war aeroplane and being given a wild ride through the clouds. what hugh had to tell about the two foreign spies also excited the delighted interest of billy worth, arthur cameron, walter osborne, blake merton, don miller, cooper fennimore, "spike" welling, alec sands, sam winter, dick bellamy, tom sherwood, ned toyford and jack durham, all of whom were present. they asked him many questions, and seemed never to tire of hearing about how the army air pilot had fired those volleys of small bombs down at the skulkers, actually driving them from the field for good. a week later when hugh met bud morgan on the way to school, he saw from the way in which the other looked at him that in some sense the die had been cast. "what's doing now, bud?" asked the patrol leader, possibly guessing what the answer would turn out to be. "smashed her into flinders this a.m.," replied bud, firmly. "i reckon you must mean that aeroplane model of yours," ventured hugh. "and you hit the bull's-eye plumb center when you say that, hugh. i just made up my mind that i was too young to bother my brains over a man's work and go to high school at the same time. my lessons aren't any too good as it is, and they'd get so rotten bad soon i'd be sent home with a note to my dad. i've been trying to find out where i got that idea of the stability device, and finally discovered an article about the wright invention tucked away in one of my books. must have read it once and then forgotten all about it, so there's how i fooled myself into believing the idea was original with me. served me right, too, but, anyhow, she worked, hugh, didn't she?" he grinned as he made this last triumphant observation, and hugh shook him by the hand to show how sorry he felt for the disappointed inventor. "worked like a charm, bud," he remarked; "and if the famous wright brothers could have seen what you did, after only glimpsing the article long ago, they would have said, just as i do, that you deserve a heap of credit, that's what." "well, i'm done with the whole business right now," bud continued firmly. "find that it gets too much of a hold on my mind to bother with while i'm still going to school. day and night i couldn't think of anything but monoplanes, cylinders, drag brakes, propellers, guy wires, wing-tips, levers, barographs, barometers, searchlights, volplaning and all such stuff. it was wearing on my mind, you see. i even dreamed of flying, and came near taking a header out of my bedroom window that would have given me a broken leg, or twisted my neck so i could see both ways to sunday. so i called it off, and threw up the sponge for keeps." "i think you were wise to do it, if you kept worrying over things like that," hugh told him, as they walked along together to school. lieutenant fosdick continued to show considerable interest in the young leader of the wolf patrol. he had even asked hugh to write to him occasionally, and promised that as opportunities arose he would reply to each and every communication. he knew that he could describe plenty of adventures, which of course always come thick and fast to the men in the army flying squadron, even during times of piping peace. when lieutenant denmead came back from his trip and heard that his old friend had been in the vicinity, he declared himself very much disappointed not to have had a chance to see fosdick again. of course what hugh had to relate concerning the warmth of the greeting given himself and two chums in the aviation camp pleased the scout master considerably, also. "i can see that you met some exciting times up there in the woods, son," he remarked, "and so please begin right at the start and tell me everything, no matter how small and insignificant it may seem in your eyes. i'm just in the humor to enjoy a rattling tale of adventure." he admitted, after hugh had finished his recital, that he got it, too; for there was much to thrill the nerves of even such an experienced army man as he, in the narrative which the boy spun, every word of it absolutely true. winter set in soon afterwards, so that the scouts were not able to take other outings. they had to content themselves with their weekly meetings in the club rooms, but they laid out a vigorous campaign for the next season. that is always considered the proper thing for scouts to do, to map out their plans ahead of time. to tell the truth, often there is more real enjoyment in planning than in executing, for one does not get tired to death with long dusty tramps while sitting in a comfortable easy-chair and mapping out a future course! some of these plans would of course come to naught; but others might be expected to arrive at the stage of reality, when once the spring advanced. that new and unexpected developments were apt to step in, however, and demand a share of their attention, may be seen from the character of the next volume in this series, which bears the title: "the boy scouts and the prize pennant." the end [illustration: the most important "tool" in the building of model aeroplanes. [_illustration by permission from_ messrs. a. gallenkamp & co's. chemical catalogue.]] the theory and practice of model aeroplaning by v.e. johnson, m.a. author of 'the best shape for an airship,' 'soaring flight,' 'how to advance the science of aeronautics,' 'how to build a model aeroplane,' etc. "model aeroplaning is an art in itself" [illustration] london e. & f.n. spon, ltd., haymarket new york spon & chamberlain, liberty street preface the object of this little book is not to describe how to construct some particular kind of aeroplane; this has been done elsewhere: but to narrate in plain language the general practice and principles of model aeroplaning. there is a _science_ of model aeroplaning--just as there is a science of model yachting and model steam and electric traction, and an endeavour is made in the following pages to do in some measure for model aeroplanes what has already been done for model yachts and locomotives. to achieve the best results, theory and practice must go hand in hand. from a series of carefully conducted experiments empirical formulæ can be obtained which, combined later with mathematical induction and deduction, may lead, not only to a more accurate and generalized law than that contained in the empirical formula, but to valuable deductions of a totally new type, embodying some general law hitherto quite unknown by experimentalists, which in its turn may serve as a foundation or stepping stone for suggesting other experiments and empirical formulæ which may be of especial importance, to be treated in _their_ turn like their predecessor. by "especial importance," i mean not only to "model," but "aeroplaning" generally. as to the value of experiments on or with models with respect to full-sized machines, fifteen years ago i held the opinion that they were a very doubtful factor. i have since considerably modified that view, and now consider that experiments with models--if properly carried out, and given due, not _undue_, weight--both can and will be of as much use to the science of aeronautics as they have already proved themselves to be in that of marine engineering. the subject of model propellers and motors has been somewhat fully dealt with, as but little has been published (in book form, at any rate) on these all-important departments. on similar grounds the reasons why and how a model aeroplane flies have been practically omitted, because these have been dealt with more or less in every book on heavier-than-air machines. great care has been exercised in the selection of matter, and in the various facts stated herein; in most cases i have personally verified them; great pains have also been exercised to exclude not only misleading, but also doubtful matter. i have no personal axe to grind whatever, nor am i connected either directly or indirectly with any firm of aeroplane builders, model or otherwise. the statements contained in these pages are absolutely free from bias of any kind, and for them i am prepared to accept full responsibility. i have to thank messrs. a.w. gamage (holborn) for the use of various model parts for testing purposes, and also for the use of various electros from their modern aviation catalogue; also messrs. t.w.k. clarke & co., of kingston-on-thames. for the further use of electros, and for permission to reproduce illustrations which have previously appeared in their papers, i must express my acknowledgment and thanks to the publishers of the "model engineer," "flight," and the "aero." corrections and suggestions of any kind will be gratefully received, and duly acknowledged. v.e. johnson. contents introduction. page §§ - . the two classes of models--first requisite of a model aeroplane. § . an art in itself. § . the leading principle chapter i. the question of weight. §§ - . its primary importance both in rubber and power-driven models--professor langley's experiences. § . theoretical aspect of the question. § . means whereby more weight can be carried--how to obtain maximum strength with minimum weight. § . heavy models versus light ones chapter ii. the question of resistance. § . the chief function of a model in the medium in which it travels. § . resistance considered as load percentage. § . how made up. § . the shape of minimum resistance. § . the case of rubber-driven models. § . the aerofoil surface--shape and material as affecting this question. § . skin friction--its coefficient. § . experimental proofs of its existence and importance chapter iii. the question of balance. § . automatic stability essential in a flying model. § . theoretical researches on this question. §§ - . a brief summary of the chief conclusions arrived at--remarks on and deductions from the same--conditions for automatic stability. § . theory and practice--stringfellow--pénaud--tatin--the question of fins--clarke's models--some further considerations. § . longitudinal stability. § . transverse stability. § . the dihedral angle. § . different forms of the latter. § . the "upturned" tip. § . the most efficient section chapter iv. the motive power. section i.--rubber motors. § . some experiments with rubber cord. § . its extension under various weights. § . the laws of elongation (stretching)--permanent set. § . effects of elongation on its volume. § . "stretched-twisted" rubber cord--torque experiments with rubber strands of varying length and number. § . results plotted as graphs--deductions--various relations--how to obtain the most efficient results--relations between the torque and the number of strands, and between the length of the strands and their number. § . analogy between rubber and "spring" motors--where it fails to hold. § . some further practical deductions. § . the number of revolutions that can be given to rubber motors. § . the maximum number of turns. § . "lubricants" for rubber. § . action of copper upon rubber. § a. action of water, etc. § b. how to preserve rubber. § . to test rubber. § . the shape of the section. § . size of section. § . geared rubber motors. § . the only system worth consideration--its practical difficulties. § . its advantages section ii.--other forms of motors. § a. _spring motors_; their inferiority to rubber. § b. the most efficient form of spring motor. § c. _compressed air motors_--a fascinating form of motor, "on paper." § d. the pneumatic drill--application to a model aeroplane--length of possible flight. § e. the pressure in motor-car tyres. § . hargraves' compressed air models--the best results compared with rubber motors. § . the effect of heating the air in its passage from the reservoir to the motor--the great gain in efficiency thereby attained--liquid air--practical drawbacks to the compressed-air motor. § . reducing valves--lowest working pressure. § . the inferiority of this motor compared with the steam engine. § a. tatin's air-compressed motor. § . _steam engine_--steam engine model--professor langley's models--his experiment with various forms of motive power--conclusions arrived at. § . his steam engine models--difficulties and failures--and final success--the "boiler" the great difficulty--his model described. § . the use of spirit or some very volatile hydrocarbon in the place of water. § . steam turbines. § . relation between "difficulty in construction" and the "size of the model." § . experiments in france. § . _petrol motors._--but few successful models. § . limit to size. § . stanger's successful model described and illustrated. § . one-cylinder petrol motors. § . _electric motors_ chapter v. propellers or screws. § . the position of the propeller. § . the number of blades. § . fan _versus_ propeller. § . the function of a propeller. § . the pitch. § . slip. § . thrust. § . pitch coefficient (or ratio). § . diameter. § . theoretical pitch. § . uniform pitch. § . how to ascertain the pitch of a propeller. § . hollow-faced blades. § . blade area. § . rate of rotation. § . shrouding. § . general design. § . the shape of the blades. § . their general contour--propeller design--how to design a propeller. § . experiments with propellers--havilland's design for experiments--the author experiments on dynamic thrust and model propellers generally. § . fabric-covered screws. § . experiments with twin propellers. § . the fleming williams propeller. § . built-up _v._ twisted wooden propellers chapter vi. the question of sustentation. the centre of pressure. § . the centre of pressure--automatic stability. § . oscillations. § . arched surfaces and movements of the centre of pressure--reversal. § . the centre of gravity and the centre of pressure. § . camber. § . dipping front edge--camber--the angle of incidence and camber--attitude of the wright machine. § . the most efficient form of camber. § . the instability of a deeply cambered surface. § . aspect ratio. § . constant or varying camber. § . centre of pressure on arched surfaces chapter vii. materials for aeroplane construction. § . the choice strictly limited. § . bamboo. § . ash--spruce-- whitewood--poplar. § . steel. § . umbrella section steel. § . steel wire. § . silk. § . aluminium and magnalium. § . alloys. § . sheet ebonite--vulcanized fibre--sheet celluloid--mica chapter viii. hints on the building of model aeroplanes. § . the chief difficulty to overcome. § . general design--the principle of continuity. § . simple monoplane. § . importance of soldering. § . things to avoid. § . aerofoil of metal--wood--or fabric. § . shape of aerofoil. § . how to camber an aerocurve without ribs. § . flexible joints. § . single surfaces. § . the rod or tube carrying the rubber motor. § . position of the rubber. § . the position of the centre of pressure. § . elevators and tails. § . skids _versus_ wheels--materials for skids. § . shock absorbers, how to attach--relation between the "gap" and the "chord" chapter ix. the steering of the model. § . a problem of great difficulty--effects of propeller torque. § . how obviated. § . the two-propeller solution--the reason why it is only a partial success. § . the _speed_ solution. § . vertical fins. § . balancing tips or ailerons. § . weighting. § . by means of transversely canting the elevator. § . the necessity for some form of "keel" chapter x. the launching of the model. § . the direction in which to launch them. § . the velocity--wooden aerofoils and fabric-covered aerofoils--poynter's launching apparatus. § . the launching of very light models. § . large size and power-driven models. § . models designed to rise from the ground--paulhan's prize model. § . the setting of the elevator. § . the most suitable propeller for this form of model. § . professor kress' method of launching. § . how to launch a twin screw model. § . a prior revolution of the propellers. § . the best angle at which to launch a model chapter xi. helicopter models. § . models quite easy to make. § . sir george cayley's helicopter model. § . phillips' successful power-driven model. § . toy helicopters. § . incorrect and correct way of arranging the propellers. § . fabric covered screws. § . a design to obviate weight. § . the question of a fin or keel. chapter xii. experimental records chapter xiii. model flying competitions. § . a few general details concerning such. § . aero models association's classification, etc. § . various points to be kept in mind when competing chapter xiv. useful notes, tables, formulÆ, etc. § . comparative velocities. § . conversions. § . areas of various shaped surfaces. § . french and english measures. § . useful data. § . table of equivalent inclinations. § . table of skin friction. § . table i. (metals). § . table ii. (wind pressures). § . wind pressure on various shaped bodies. § . table iii. (lift and drift) on a cambered surface. § . table iv. (lift and drift)--on a plane aerofoil--deductions. § . table v. (timber). § . formula connecting weight lifted and velocity. § . formula connecting models of similar design but different weights. § . formula connecting power and speed. § . propeller thrust. § . to determine experimentally the static thrust of a propeller. § . horse-power and the number of revolutions. § . to compare one model with another. § . work done by a clockwork spring motor. § . to ascertain the horse-power of a rubber motor. § . foot-pounds of energy in a given weight of rubber--experimental determination of. § . theoretical length of flight. § . to test different motors. § . efficiency of a model. § . efficiency of design. § . naphtha engines. § . horse-power and weight of model petrol motors. § . formula for rating the same. § a. relation between static thrust of propeller and total weight of model. § . how to find the height of an inaccessible object (kite, balloon, etc.). § . formula for i.h.p. of model steam engines appendix a. some models which have won medals at open competitions glossary of terms used in model aeroplaning. _aeroplane._ a motor-driven flying machine which relies upon surfaces for its support in the air. _monoplane_ (single). an aeroplane with one pair of outstretched wings. _aerofoil._ these outstretched wings are often called aerofoil surfaces. one pair of wings forming one aerofoil surface. _monoplane_ (double). an aeroplane with two aerofoils, one behind the other or two main planes, tandem-wise. _biplane._ an aeroplane with two aerofoils, one below the other, or having two main planes superposed. _triplane._ an aeroplane having three such aerofoils or three such main planes. _multiplane._ any such machine having more than three of the above. _glider._ a motorless aeroplane. _helicopter._ a flying machine in which propellers are employed to raise the machine in the air by their own unaided efforts. _dihedral angle._ a dihedral angle is an angle made by two surfaces that do not lie in the same plane, i.e. when the aerofoils are arranged v-shaped. it is better, however, to somewhat extend this definition, and not to consider it as necessary that the two surfaces _do_ actually meet, but would do so if produced thus in figure. ba and cd are still dihedrals, sometimes termed "upturned tips." [illustration: dihedrals.] _span_ is the distance from tip to tip of the main supporting surface measured transversely (across) the line of flight. _camber_ (a slight arching or convexity upwards). this term denotes that the aerofoil has such a curved transverse section. _chord_ is the distance between the entering (or leading) edge of the main supporting surface (aerofoil) and the trailing edge of the same; also defined as the fore and aft dimension of the main planes measured in a straight line between the leading and trailing edges. span _aspect ratio_ is ----- chord _gap_ is the vertical distance between one aerofoil and the one which is immediately above it. (the gap is usually made equal to the chord). _angle of incidence._ the angle of incidence is the angle made by the chord with the line of flight. [illustration: ab = chord. ab = cambered surface. sp = line of flight. asp = {alpha} = l of incidence.] _width._ the width of an aerofoil is the distance from the front to the rear edge, allowing for camber. _length._ this term is usually applied to the machine as a whole, from the front leading edge of elevator (or supports) to tip of tail. _arched._ this term is usually applied to aerofoil surfaces which dip downwards like the wings of a bird. the curve in this case being at right angles to "camber." a surface can, of course, be both cambered and arched. _propeller._ a device for propelling or pushing an aeroplane forward or for raising it vertically (lifting screw). _tractor screw._ a device for pulling the machine (used when the propeller is placed in the front of the machine). _keel._ a vertical plane or planes (usually termed "fins") arranged longitudinally for the purposes of stability and steering. _tail._ the plane, or group of planes, at the rear end of an aeroplane for the purpose chiefly of giving longitudinal stability. in such cases the tail is normally (approx.) horizontal, but not unfrequently vertical tail-pieces are fitted as well for steering (transversely) to the right or left, or the entire tail may be twisted for the purpose of transverse stability (vide _elevator_). such appendages are being used less and less with the idea of giving actual support. _rudder_ is the term used for the vertical plane, or planes, which are used to steer the aeroplane sideways. _warping._ the flexing or bending of an aerofoil out of its normal shape. the rear edges near the tips of the aerofoil being dipped or tilted respectively, in order to create a temporary difference in their inclinations to the line of flight. performed in conjunction with rudder movements, to counteract the excessive action of the latter. _ailerons_ (also called "righting-tips," "balancing-planes," etc.). small aeroplanes in the vicinity of the tips of the main aerofoil for the purpose of assisting in the maintenance of equilibrium or for steering purposes either with or without the assistance of the rudder. _elevator._ the plane, or planes, in front of the main aerofoil used for the purpose of keeping the aeroplane on an even keel, or which cause (by being tilted or dipped) the aeroplane to rise or fall (vide _tail_). model aeroplaning introduction. § . model aeroplanes are primarily divided into two classes: first, models intended before all else to be ones that shall _fly_; secondly, _models_, using the word in its proper sense of full-sized machines. herein model aeroplanes differ from model yachts and model locomotives. an extremely small model locomotive _built to scale_ will still _work_, just as a very small yacht built to scale will _sail_; but when you try to build a scale model of an "antoinette" monoplane, _including engine_, it cannot be made to fly unless the scale be a very large one. if, for instance, you endeavoured to make a / scale model, your model petrol motor would be compelled to have eight cylinders, each · bore, and your magneto of such size as easily to pass through a ring half an inch in diameter. such a model could not possibly work.[ ] _note._--readers will find in the "model engineer" of june , , some really very fine working drawings of a prize-winning antoinette monoplane model. § . again, although the motor constitutes the _chief_, it is by no means the sole difficulty in _scale_ model aeroplane building. to reproduce to scale at _scale weight_, or indeed anything approaching it, _all_ the _necessary_--in the case of a full-sized machine--framework is not possible in a less than / scale. § . special difficulties occur in the case of any prototype taken. for instance, in the case of model blériots it is extremely difficult to get the centre of gravity sufficiently forward. § . scale models of actual flying machines _that will fly_ mean models _at least_ or feet across, and every other dimension in like proportion; and it must always be carefully borne in mind that the smaller the scale the greater the difficulties, but not in the same proportion--it would not be _twice_ as difficult to build a ¼-in. scale model as a ½-in., but _four_, _five_ or _six_ times as difficult. § . now, the _first_ requirement of a model aeroplane, or flying machine, is that it shall fly. as will be seen later on--unless the machine be of large size, feet and more spread--the only motor at our disposal is the motor of twisted rubber strands, and this to be efficient requires to be long, and is of practically uniform weight throughout; this alone alters the entire _distribution of weight_ on the machine and makes: § . "=model aeroplaning an art in itself=," and as such we propose to consider it in the following pages. we have said that the first requisite of a model aeroplane is that it shall fly, but there is no necessity, nor is it indeed always to be desired, that this should be its only one, unless it be built with the express purpose of obtaining a record length of flight. for ordinary flights and scientific study what is required is a machine in which minute detail is of secondary importance, but which does along its main lines "_approximate_ to the real thing." § . simplicity should be the first thing aimed at--simplicity means efficiency, it means it in full-sized machines, still more does it mean it in models--and this very question of simplicity brings us to that most important question of all, namely, the question of _weight_. footnote: [ ] the smallest working steam engine that the writer has ever heard of has a net weight of grains. one hundred such engines would be required to weigh one ounce. the bore being · in., and stroke / of an inch, r.p.m. per min., h.p. developed / ("model engineer," july , ). when working it hums like a bee. chapter i. the question of weight. § . the following is an extract from a letter that appeared in the correspondence columns of "the aero."[ ] "to give you some idea how slight a thing will make a model behave badly, i fitted a skid to protect the propeller underneath the aeroplane, and the result in retarding flight could be seen very quickly, although the weight of the skid was almost nil.[ ] to all model makers who wish to make a success i would say, strip all that useless and heavy chassis off, cut down the 'good, honest stick' that you have for a backbone to half its thickness, stay it with wire if it bends under the strain of the rubber, put light silk on the planes, and use an aluminium[ ] propeller. the result will surpass all expectations." § . the above refers, of course, to a rubber-motor driven model. let us turn to a steam-driven prototype. i take the best known example of all, professor langley's famous model. here is what the professor has to say on the question[ ]:-- "every bit of the machinery had to be constructed with scientific accuracy. it had to be tested again and again. the difficulty of getting the machine light enough was such that every part of it had to be remade several times. it would be in full working order when something would give way, and this part would have to be strengthened. this caused additional weight, and necessitated cutting off so much weight from some other part of the machinery. at times the difficulty seemed almost heartbreaking; but i went on, piece by piece and atom by atom, until i at last succeeded in getting all the parts of the right strength and proportion." how to obtain the maximum strength with the minimum of weight is one of the, if not the most, difficult problems which the student has to solve. § . the theoretical reason why _weight_ is such an all-important item in model aeroplaning, much more so than in the case of full-size machines, is that, generally speaking, such models do not fly fast enough to possess a high weight carrying capacity. if you increase the area of the supporting surface you increase also the resistance, and thereby diminish the speed, and are no better off than before. the only way to increase the weight carrying capacity of a model is to increase its speed. this point will be recurred to later on. one of mr. t.w.k. clarke's well-known models, surface area ¼ sq. ft., weight ¼ lb., is stated to have made a flight of yards carrying oz. of lead. this works out approximately at oz. per sq. ft. the velocity (speed) is not stated, but some earlier models by the same designer, weight ½ lb., supporting area ½ sq. ft., i.e., at rate of oz. per sq. ft., travelled at a rate of ft. per second, or miles an hour. the velocity of the former, therefore, would certainly not be less than miles an hour. § . generally speaking, however, models do not travel at anything like this velocity, or carry anything like this weight per sq. ft. an average assumption of to miles an hour does nor err on the minimum side. some very light fabric covered models have a speed of less than even miles an hour. such, of course, cannot be termed efficient models, and carry only about oz. per sq. ft. between these two types--these two extremes--somewhere lies the "ideal model." the maximum of strength with the minimum of weight can be obtained only:-- . by a knowledge of materials. . of how to combine those materials in a most efficient and skilful manner. . by a constant use of the balance or a pair of scales, and noting (in writing) the weight and result of every trial and every experiment in the alteration and change of material used. weigh everything. § . the reader must not be misled by what has been said, and think that a model must not weigh anything if it is to fly well. a heavy model will fly much better against the wind than a light one, provided that the former _will_ fly. to do this it must fly _fast_. to do this again it must be well powered, and offer the minimum of resistance to the medium through which it moves. this means its aerofoil (supporting) surfaces must be of polished wood or metal. this point brings us to the question of resistance, which we will now consider. footnotes: [ ] "aero," may , . [ ] part of this retardation was, of course, "increased resistance." [ ] personally i do not recommend aluminium.--v.e.j. [ ] "aeronautical journal," january , p. . chapter ii. the question of resistance. § . it is, or should be, the function of an aeroplane--model or otherwise--to pass through the medium in which it travels in such a manner as to leave that medium in as motionless a state as possible, since all motion of the surrounding air represents so much power wasted. every part of the machine should be so constructed as to move through the air with the minimum of disturbance and resistance. § . the resistance, considered as a percentage of the load itself, that has to be overcome in moving a load from one place to another, is, according to mr. f.w. lanchester, ½ per cent. in the case of a flying machine, and · per cent. in the case of a cargo boat, and of a solid tyre motor car per cent., a locomotive per cent. four times at least the resistance in the case of aerial locomotion has to be overcome to that obtained from ordinary locomotion on land. the above refer, of course, to full-sized machines; for a model the resistance is probably nearer or per cent. § . this resistance is made up of-- . aerodynamic resistance. . head resistance. . skin-friction (surface resistance). the first results from the necessity of air supporting the model during flight. the second is the resistance offered by the framework, wires, edges of aerofoils, etc. the third, skin-friction or surface resistance, is very small at low velocities, but increases as the square of the velocity. to reduce the resistance which it sets up, all surfaces used should be as smooth as possible. to reduce the second, contours of ichthyoid, or fish-like, form should be used, so that the resultant stream-line flow of the medium shall keep in touch with the surface of the body. § . as long ago as a series of experiments were made by the writer[ ] to solve the following problem: given a certain length and breadth, to find the shape which will offer the least resistance. the experiments were made with a whirling table ft. in diameter, which could be rotated so that the extremity of the arm rotated up to a speed of miles an hour. the method of experimenting was as follows: the bodies (diam. in.) were balanced against one another at the extremity of the arm, being so balanced that their motions forward and backward were parallel. provision was made for accurately balancing the parallel scales on which the bodies were suspended without altering the resistance offered by the apparatus to the air. two experiments at least (to avoid error) were made in each case, the bodies being reversed in the second experiment, the top one being put at the bottom, and _vice versa_. the conclusions arrived at were:-- for minimum (head) resistance a body should have-- . its greatest diameter two-fifths of its entire length from its head. . its breadth and its depth in the proportion of four to three. . its length at least from five to nine times its greatest breadth (nine being better than five). . a very tapering form of stern, the actual stern only being of just sufficient size to allow of the propeller shaft passing through. in the case of twin propellers some slight modification of the stern would be necessary. . every portion of the body in contact with the fluid to be made as smooth as possible. . a body of such shape gives at most only _one-twentieth_ the resistance offered by a flat disk of similar maximum sectional area. _results since fully confirmed._ [illustration: fig. .--shape of least resistance.] the design in fig. is interesting, not only because of its probable origin, but because of the shape of the body and arrangement of the propellers; no rudder is shown, and the long steel vertical mast extending both upwards and downwards through the centre would render it suitable only for landing on water. § . in the case of a rubber-driven model, there is no containing body part, so to speak, a long thin stick, or tubular construction if preferred, being all that is necessary. the long skein of elastic, vibrating as well as untwisting as it travels with the machine through the air, offers some appreciable resistance, and several experimenters have _enclosed_ it in a light tube made of _very thin_ veneer wood rolled and glued, or paper even may be used; such tubes can be made very light, and possess considerable rigidity, especially longitudinally. if the model be a biplane, then all the upright struts between the two aerofoils should be given a shape, a vertical section of which is shown in fig. . § . in considering this question of resistance, the substance of which the aerofoil surface is made plays a very important part, as well as whether that surface be plane or curved. for some reason not altogether easy to determine, fabric-covered planes offer _considerably_ more resistance than wooden or metal ones. that they should offer _more_ resistance is what common sense would lead one to expect, but hardly to the extent met with in actual practice. [illustration: fig. .--design for an aeroplane model (power driven). this design is attributed to professor langley.] _built up fabric-covered aeroplanes[ ] gain in lightness, but lose in resistance._ in the case of curved surfaces this difference is considerably more; one reason, undoubtedly, is that in a built up model surface there is nearly always a tendency to make this curvature excessive, and much more than it should be. having called attention to this under the head of resistance, we will leave it now to recur to it later when considering the aerofoil proper. [illustration: fig. .--horizontal section of vertical strut (enlarged.)] § . allusion has been made in this chapter to skin friction, but no value given for its coefficient.[ ] lanchester's value for planes from ½ to ½ sq. ft. in area, moving about to ft. per second, is · to · . professor zahm (washington) gives · lb. per sq. ft. at ft. per second, and at ft. per second, · , and the formula _f_ = · _l_^{· }_v_^{ · } _f_ being the average friction in lb. per sq. in., _l_ the length in feet, and _v_ the velocity in ft. per second. he also experimented with various kinds of surfaces, some rough, some smooth, etc. his conclusion is:--"all even surfaces have approximately the same coefficient of skin friction. uneven surfaces have a greater coefficient." all formulæ on skin friction must at present be accepted with reserve. § . the following three experiments, however, clearly prove its _existence_, and _that it has considerable effect_:-- . a light, hollow celluloid ball, supported on a stream of air projected upwards from a jet, rotates in one direction or the other as the jet is inclined to the left or to the right. (f.w. lanchester.) . when a golf ball (which is rough) is hit so as to have considerable underspin, its range is increased from to yards, due entirely to the greater frictional resistance to the air on that side on which the whirl and the progressive motion combine. (prof. tait.) . by means of a (weak) bow a golf ball can be made to move point blank to a mark yards off, provided the string be so adjusted as to give a good underspin; adjust the string to the centre of the ball, instead of catching it below, and the drop will be about ft. (prof. tait.) footnotes: [ ] _vide_ "invention," feb. , , and , . [ ] really aerofoils, since we are considering only the supporting surface. [ ] i.e., to express it as a decimal fraction of the resistance, encountered by the same plane when moving "face" instead of "edge" on. chapter iii. the question of balance. § . it is perfectly obvious for successful flight that any model flying machine (in the absence of a pilot) must possess a high degree of automatic stability. the model must be so constructed as to be naturally stable, _in the medium through which it is proposed to drive it_. the last remark is of the greatest importance, as we shall see. § . in connexion with this same question of automatic stability, the question must be considered from the theoretical as well as from the practical side, and the labours and researches of such men as professors brian and chatley, f.w. lanchester, captain ferber, mouillard and others must receive due weight. their work cannot yet be fully assessed, but already results have been arrived at far more important than are generally supposed. the following are a few of the results arrived at from theoretical considerations; they cannot be too widely known. (a) surfaces concave on the under side are not stable unless some form of balancing device (such as a tail, etc.) is used. (b) if an aeroplane is in equilibrium and moving uniformly, it is necessary for stability that it shall tend towards a condition of equilibrium. (c) in the case of "oscillations" it is absolutely necessary for stability that these oscillations shall decrease in amplitude, in other words, be damped out. (d) in aeroplanes in which the dihedral angle is excessive or the centre of gravity very low down, a dangerous pitching motion is quite likely to be set up. [analogy in shipbuilding--an increase in the metacentre height while increasing the stability in a statical sense causes the ship to do the same.] (e) the propeller shaft should pass through the centre of gravity of the machine. (f) the front planes should be at a greater angle of inclination than the rear ones. (g) the longitudinal stability of an aeroplane grows much less when the aeroplane commences to rise, a monoplane becoming unstable when the angle of ascent is greater than the inclination of the main aerofoil to the horizon. (h) head resistance increases stability. (i) three planes are more stable than two. [elevator--main aerofoil--horizontal rudder behind.] (j) when an aeroplane is gliding (downwards) stability is greater than in horizontal flight. (k) a large moment of inertia is inimical (opposed) to stability. (m) aeroplanes (naturally) stable up to a certain velocity (speed) may become unstable when moving beyond that speed. [possible explanation. the motion of the air over the edges of the aerofoil becomes turbulent, and the form of the stream lines suddenly changes. aeroplane also probably becomes deformed.] (n) in a balanced glider for stability a separate surface at a negative angle to the line of flight is essential. [compare f.] (o) a keel surface should be situated well above and behind the centre of gravity. (p) an aeroplane is a conservative system, and stability is greatest when the kinetic energy is a maximum. [illustration, the pendulum.] § . referring to a. models with a plane or flat surface are not unstable, and will fly well without a tail; such a machine is called a simple monoplane. [illustration: fig. .--one of mr. burge webb's simple monoplanes. showing balance weight a (movable), and also his winding-up gear--a very handy device.] § . referring to d. many model builders make this mistake, i.e., the mistake of getting as low a centre of gravity as possible under the quite erroneous idea that they are thereby increasing the stability of the machine. theoretically the _centre of gravity should be the centre of head resistance, as also the centre of pressure_. in practice some prefer to put the centre of gravity in models _slightly_ above the centre of head resistance, the reason being that, generally speaking, wind gusts have a "lifting" action on the machine. it must be carefully borne in mind, however, that if the centre of wind pressure on the aerofoil surface and the centre of gravity do not coincide, no matter at what point propulsive action be applied, it can be proved by quite elementary mechanics that such an arrangement, known as "acentric," produces a couple tending to upset the machine. this action is the probable cause of many failures. [illustration: fig. .--the stringfellow model monoplane of .] § . referring to e. if the propulsive action does not pass through the centre of gravity the system again becomes "acentric." even supposing condition d fulfilled, and we arrive at the following most important result, viz., that for stability:-- the centres of gravity, of pressure, of head resistance, should be coincident, and the propulsive action of the propeller pass through this same point. [illustration: fig. .--the stringfellow model triplane of .] § . referring to f and n--the problem of longitudinal stability. there is one absolutely essential feature not mentioned in f or n, and that is for automatic longitudinal stability _the two surfaces, the aerofoil proper and the balancer_ (elevator or tail, or both), _must be separated by some considerable distance, a distance not less than four times the width of the main aerofoil_.[ ] more is better. [illustration: fig. . _pÉnaud _] § . with one exception (pénaud) early experimenters with model aeroplanes had not grasped this all-important fact, and their models would not fly, only make a series of jumps, because they failed to balance longitudinally. in stringfellow's and tatin's models the main aerofoil and balancer (tail) are practically contiguous. pénaud in his rubber-motored models appears to have fully realised this (_vide_ fig. ), and also the necessity for using long strands of rubber. some of his models flew ft., and showed considerable stability. [illustration: fig. .--tatin's aeroplane ( ). surface · sq. metres, total weight · kilogrammes, velocity of sustentation metres a second. motor, compressed air (for description see § , ch. iv). revolved round and round a track tethered to a post at the centre. in one of its jumps it cleared the head of a spectator.] with three surfaces one would set the elevator at a slight plus angle, main aerofoil horizontal (neither positive nor negative), and the tail at a corresponding negative angle to the positive one of the elevator. referring to o.[ ] one would naturally be inclined to put a keel surface--or, in other words, vertical fins--beneath the centre of gravity, but d shows us this may have the opposite effect to what we might expect. in full-sized machines, those in which the distance between the main aerofoil and balancers is considerable (like the farman) show considerable automatic longitudinal stability, and those in which it is short (like the wright) are purposely made so with the idea of doing away with it, and rendering the machine quicker and more sensitive to personal control. in the case of the stringfellow and tatin models we have the extreme case--practically the bird entirely volitional and personal--which is the opposite in every way to what we desire on a model under no personal or volitional control at all. [illustration: fig. .--clark's model flyer. main aerofoil set at a slight negative angle. dihedral angles on both aerofoils.] the theoretical conditions stated in f and n are fully borne out in practice. and since a curved aerofoil even when set at a _slight_ negative angle has still considerable powers of sustentation, it is possible to give the main aerofoil a slight negative angle and the elevator a slight positive one. this fact is of the greatest importance, since it enables us to counteract the effect of the travel of the "centre of pressure."[ ] [illustration: fig. .--large model monoplane. designed and constructed by the author, with vertical fin (no dihedral angle). with a larger and more efficient propeller than the one here shown some excellent flights were obtained. constructed of bamboo and nainsook. stayed with steel wire.] § . referring to i. this, again, is of primary importance in longitudinal stability. the farman machine has three such planes--elevator, main aerofoil, tail the wright originally had _not_, but is now being fitted with a tail, and experiments on the short-wright biplane have quite proved its stabilising efficiency. the three plane (triple monoplane) in the case of models has been tried, but possesses no advantage so far over the double monoplane type. the writer has made many experiments with vertical fins, and has found the machine very stable, even when the fin or vertical keel is placed some distance above the centre of gravity. § . the question of transverse (side to side) stability at once brings us to the question of the dihedral angle, practically similar in its action to a flat plane with vertical fins. [illustration: fig. .--sir george cayley's flying machine. eight feathers, two corks, a thin rod, a piece of whalebone, and a piece of thread.] § . the setting up of the front surface at an angle to the rear, or the setting of these at corresponding compensatory angles already dealt with, is nothing more nor less than the principle of the dihedral angle for longitudinal stability. [illustration: fig. .--various forms of dihedrals.] as early as the commencement of last century sir george cayley (a man more than a hundred years ahead of his times) was the first to point out that two planes at a dihedral angle constitute a basis of stability. for, on the machine heeling over, the side which is required to rise gains resistance by its new position, and that which is required to sink loses it. § . the dihedral angle principle may take many forms. as in fig. _a_ is a monoplane, the rest biplanes. the angles and curves are somewhat exaggerated. it is quite a mistake to make the angle excessive, the "lift" being thereby diminished. a few degrees should suffice. whilst it is evident enough that transverse stability is promoted by making the sustaining surface trough-shaped, it is not so evident what form of cross section is the most efficient for sustentation and equilibrium combined. [illustration: fig. .] it is evident that the righting moment of a unit of surface of an aeroplane is greater at the outer edge than elsewhere, owing to the greater lever arm. § . the "upturned tip" dihedral certainly appears to have the advantage. _the outer edges of the aerofoil then should be turned upward for the purpose of transverse stability, while the inner surface should remain flat or concave for greater support._ § . the exact most favourable outline of transverse section for stability, steadiness and buoyancy has not yet been found; but the writer has found the section given in fig. , a very efficient one. footnotes: [ ] if the width be not uniform the mean width should be taken. [ ] this refers, of course, to transverse stability. [ ] see ch. vi. chapter iv. the motive power. section i.--rubber motors. § . some forty years have elapsed since pénaud first used elastic (rubber) for model aeroplanes, and during that time no better substitute (in spite of innumerable experiments) has been found. nor for the smaller and lighter class of models is there any likelihood of rubber being displaced. such being the case, a brief account of some experiments on this substance as a motive power for the same may not be without interest. the word _elastic_ (in science) denotes: _the tendency which a body has when distorted to return to its original shape_. glass and ivory (within certain limits) are two of the most elastic bodies known. but the limits within which most bodies can be distorted (twisted or stretched, or both) without either fracture or a large _permanent_ alteration of shape is very small. not so rubber--it far surpasses in this respect even steel springs. § . let us take a piece of elastic (rubber) cord, and stretch it with known weights and observe carefully what happens. we shall find that, first of all: _the extension is proportional to the weight suspended_--but soon we have an _increasing_ increase of extension. in one experiment made by the writer, when the weights were removed the rubber cord remained / of an inch longer, and at the end of an hour recovered itself to the extent of / , remaining finally permanently / of an inch longer. length of elastic cord used in this experiment - / inches, / of an inch thick. suspended weights, oz. up to oz. extension from ¼ inch up to - / inches. graph drawn in fig. , no. b abscissæ extension in eighths of an inch, ordinates weights in ounces. so long as the graph is a straight line it shows the extension is proportional to the suspended weight; afterwards in excess. [illustration: fig. .--weight and extension. b, rubber / in. thick; c, / in. thick; d, / in. thick. a, theoretical line if extension were proportional to weight.] in this experiment we have been able to stretch (distort) a piece of rubber to more than three times its original length, and afterwards it finally returns to almost its original length: not only so, a piece of rubber cord can be stretched to eight or nine times its original length without fracture. herein lies its supreme advantage over steel or other springs. weight for weight more energy can be got or more work be done by stretched (or twisted, or, to speak more correctly, by stretched-twisted) rubber cord than from any form of steel spring.[ ] it is true it is stretched--twisted--far beyond what is called the "elastic limit," and its efficiency falls off, but with care not nearly so quickly as is commonly supposed, but in spite of this and other drawbacks its advantages far more than counterbalance these. § . experimenting with cords of varying thickness we find that: _the extension is inversely proportional to the thickness_. if we leave a weight hanging on a piece of rubber cord (stretched, of course, beyond its "elastic limit") we find that: _the cord continues to elongate as long as the weight is left on_. for example: a lb. weight hung on a piece of rubber cord, - / inches long and / of an inch thick, stretched it--at first-- ¼ inches; after two minutes this had increased to - / ( / of an inch more). one hour later / of an inch more, and sixteen hours later / of an inch more, i.e. a sixteen hours' hang produced an additional extension of ¾ of an inch. on a thinner cord (half the thickness) same weight produced _an additional extension_ (_after_ _hours_) _of _ - / _in_. n.b.--an elastic cord or spring balance should never have a weight left permanently on it--or be subjected to a distorting force for a longer time than necessary, or it will take a "permanent set," and not return to even approximately its original length or form. in a rubber cord the extension is _directly proportional to the length_ as well as _inversely proportional to the thickness and to the weight suspended_--true only within the limits of elasticity. [illustration: fig. .--extension and increase in volume.] § . =when a rubber cord is stretched there is an increase of volume.=--on stretching a piece of rubber cord to _twice_ its original (natural) length, we should perhaps expect to find that the string would only be _half_ as thick, as would be the case if the volume remained the same. performing the experiment, and measuring the cord as accurately as possible with a micrometer, measuring to the one-thousandth of an inch, we at once perceive that this is not the case, being about _two-thirds_ of its former volume. § . in the case of rubber cord used for a motive power on model aeroplanes, the rubber is _both_ twisted and stretched, but chiefly the latter. thirty-six strands of rubber, weight about grammes, at turns give a torque of oz. on a -in. arm, but an end thrust, or end pull, of about ½ lb. (ball bearings, or some such device, can be used to obviate this end thrust when desirable.) a series of experiments undertaken by the writer on the torque produced by twisted rubber strands, varying in number, length, etc., and afterwards carefully plotted out in graph form, have led to some very interesting and instructive results. ball bearings were used, and the torque, measured in eighths of an ounce, was taken (in each case) from an arm in. in length. the following are the principal results arrived at. for graphs, see fig. . § . a. increasing the number of (rubber) strands by _one-half_ (length and thickness of rubber remaining constant) increases the torque (unwinding tendency) _twofold_, i.e., doubles the motive power. b. _doubling_ the number of strands increases the torque _more than three times_--about - / times, times up to turns, ½ times from to turns. c. _trebling_ the number of strands increases the torque at least _seven times_. the increased _size_ of the coils, and thereby _increased_ extension, explains this result. as we increase the number of strands, the _number_ of twists or turns that can be given it becomes less. d. _doubling_ the number of strands (length, etc., remaining constant) _diminishes_ the number of turns by _one-third to one-half_. (in few strands one-third, in and over one-half.) [illustration: fig. .--torque graphs of rubber motors. abscissæ = turns. ordinates = torque measured in / of an oz. length of arm, in. a. strands of new rubber, ft. in. long; grammes weight. b. strands, ft. in. long; end thrust at turns, ½ lb. c. strands, ft. in. long. d. " " " e. " " " weight grammes. f. " ft. in. long g. " ft. in. long.] e. if we halve the length of the rubber strands, keeping the _number_ of strands the same, the torque is but slightly increased for the first turns; at turns it is double. but the greater number of turns--in ratio of about : --that can be given the longer strand much more than compensates for this. f. no arrangement of the strands, _per se_, gets more energy (more motive power) out of them than any other, but there are special reasons for making the strands-- g. as long and as few in number as possible. . more turns can be given it. . it gives a far more even torque. twelve strands ft. in. long give practically a line of small constant angle. thirty-six strands same length a much steeper angle, with considerable variations. a very good result, which the writer has verified in practice, paying due regard to _both_ propeller and motor, is to make-- h. _the length of the rubber strands twice[ ] in feet the number of the strands in inches_,[ ] e.g., if the number of strands is their length should be ft., if , ft., and so on. § . experiments with to strands ft. in. long give a torque curve almost precisely similar to that obtained from experiments made with flat spiral steel springs, similar to those used in watches and clocks; and, as we know, the torque given by such springs is very uneven, and has to be equalised by use of a fusee, or some such device. in the case of such springs it must not be forgotten that the turning moment (unwinding tendency) is not proportional to the amount of winding up, this being true only in the "balance" springs of watches, etc., where _both_ ends of the spring are rigidly fastened. in the case of spring motors.[ ] i. the turning moment (unwinding tendency) is proportional to the difference between the angle of winding and yielding, proportional to the moment of inertia of its section, i.e., to the breadth and the cube of its thickness, also proportional to the modulus of elasticity of the substance used, and inversely proportional to the length of the strip. § . referring back to a, b, c, there are one or two practical deductions which should be carefully noted. supposing we have a model with one propeller and strands of elastic. if we decide to fit it with twin screws, then, other reasons apart, we shall require two sets of strands of more than in number each to have the same motive power ( if the same torque be required).[ ] this is an important point, and one not to be lost sight of when thinking of using two propellers. experiments on-- § . =the number of revolutions= (turns) =that can be given to rubber motors= led to interesting results, e.g., the number of turns to produce a double knot in the cord from end to end were, in the case of rubber, one yard long:-- no. of strands. no. of turns. no. of strands. no. of turns. it will be at once noticed that the greater the number of rubber strands used in a given length, the fewer turns will it stand in proportion. for instance, strands double knot at , and at (and not at ), at , and at (and not ), and so on. the reason, of course, is the more the strands the greater the distance they have to travel round themselves. § . =the maximum number of turns.=--as to the maximum number of permissible turns, rubber has rupture stress of lb. per sq. in., _but a very high permissible stress_, as much as per cent. the resilience (power of recovery after distortion) in tension of rubber is in considerable excess of any other substance, silk being the only other substance which at all approaches it in this respect, the ratio being about : . the resilience of steel spiral spring is very slight in comparison. a rubber motor in which the double knot is not exceeded by more than turns (rubber one yard in length) should last a good time. when trying for a record flight, using new elastic, as many as even or or even more turns have been given in the case of - strands a yard in length; but such a severe strain soon spoils the rubber. § . =on the use of "lubricants."=--one of the drawbacks to rubber is that if it be excessively strained it soon begins to break up. one of the chief causes of this is that the strands stick together--they should always be carefully separated, if necessary, after a flight--and an undue strain is thereby cast on certain parts. apart also from this the various strands are not subject to the same tension. it has been suggested that if some means could be devised to prevent this, and allow the strands to slip over one another, a considerable increase of power might result. it must, however, be carefully borne in mind that anything of an oily or greasy nature has an injurious effect on the rubber, and must be avoided at all costs. benzol, petroleum, ether, volatile oils, turpentine, chloroform, naphtha, vaseline, soap, and all kinds of oil must be carefully avoided, as they soften the rubber, and reduce it more or less to the consistence of a sticky mass. the only oil which is said to have no action on rubber, or practically none, is castor oil; all the same, i do not advise its use as a lubricant. there are three only which we need consider:-- . soda and water. . french chalk. . pure redistilled glycerine. the first is perfectly satisfactory when freshly applied, but soon dries up and evaporates. the second falls off; and unless the chalk be of the softest kind, free from all grit and hard particles, it will soon do more harm than good. the third, glycerine, is for ordinary purposes by far the best, and has a beneficial rather than a deleterious effect on the rubber; but it must be _pure_. the redistilled kind, free from all traces of arsenic, grease, etc., is the only kind permissible. it does not evaporate, and a few drops, comparatively speaking, will lubricate fifty or sixty yards of rubber. being of a sticky or tacky nature it naturally gathers up dust and particles of dirt in course of time. to prevent these grinding into the rubber, wash it from time to time in warm soda, and warm and apply fresh glycerine when required. glycerine, unlike vaseline (a product of petroleum), is not a grease; it is formed from fats by a process known as _saponification_, or treatment of the oil with caustic alkali, which decomposes the compound, forming an alkaline stearate (soap), and liberating the glycerine which remains in solution when the soap is separated by throwing in common salt. in order to obtain pure glycerine, the fat can be decomposed by lead oxide, the glycerine remaining in solution, and the lead soap or plaster being precipitated. by using glycerine as a lubricant the number of turns that can be given a rubber motor is greatly increased, and the coils slip over one another freely and easily, and prevent the throwing of undue strain on some particular portion, and absolutely prevent the strands from sticking together. § . =the action of copper upon rubber.=--copper, whether in the form of the metal, the oxides, or the soluble salts, has a marked injurious action upon rubber. in the case of metallic copper this action has been attributed to oxidation induced by the dissolved oxygen in the copper. in working drawings for model aeroplanes i have noticed designs in which the hooks on which the rubber strands were to be stretched were made of _copper_. in no case should the strands be placed upon bare metal. i always cover mine with a piece of valve tubing, which can easily be renewed from time to time. § a. =the action of water, etc., on rubber.=--rubber is quite insoluble in water; but it must not be forgotten that it will absorb about per cent. into its pores after soaking for some time. ether, chloroform, carbon-tetrachloride, turpentine, carbon bi-sulphide, petroleum spirit, benzene and its homologues found in coal-tar naphtha, dissolve rubber readily. alcohol is absorbed by rubber, but is not a solvent of it. § b. =how to preserve rubber.=--in the first place, in order that it shall be _possible_ to preserve and keep rubber in the best condition of efficiency, it is absolutely essential that the rubber shall be, when obtained, fresh and of the best kind. only the best para rubber should be bought; to obtain it fresh it should be got in as large quantities as possible direct from a manufacturer or reliable rubber shop. the composition of the best para rubber is as follows:--carbon, · per cent.; hydrogen, · per cent.; oxygen and ash, · per cent. in order to increase its elasticity the pure rubber has to be vulcanised before being made into the sheet some sixty or eighty yards in length, from which the rubber threads are cut; after vulcanization the substance consists of rubber plus about per cent. of sulphur. now, unfortunately, the presence of the sulphur makes the rubber more prone to atmospheric oxidation. vulcanized rubber, compared to pure rubber, has then but a limited life. it is to this process of oxidation that the more or less rapid deterioration of rubber is due. to preserve rubber it should be kept from the sun's rays, or, indeed, any actinic rays, in a cool, airy place, and subjected to as even a temperature as possible. great extremes of temperature have a very injurious effect on rubber, and it should be washed from time to time in warm soda water. it should be subjected to no tension or compression. deteriorated rubber is absolutely useless for model aeroplanes. § . =to test rubber.=--good elastic thread composed of pure para rubber and sulphur should, if properly made, stretch to seven times its length, and then return to its original length. it should also possess a stretching limit at least ten times its original length. as already stated, the threads or strands are cut from sheets; these threads can now be cut fifty to the inch. for rubber motors a very great deal so far as length of life depends on the accuracy and skill with which the strands are cut. when examined under a microscope (not too powerful) the strands having the least ragged edge, i.e., the best cut, are to be preferred. § . =the section--strip or ribbon versus square.=--in section the square and not the ribbon or strip should be used. the edge of the strip i have always found more ragged under the microscope than the square. i have also found it less efficient. theoretically no doubt a round section would be best, but none such (in small sizes) is on the market. models have been fitted with a tubular section, but such should on no account be used. § . =size of the section.=--one-sixteenth or one-twelfth is the best size for ordinary models; personally, i prefer the thinner. if more than a certain number of strands are required to provide the necessary power, a larger size should be used. it is not easy to say _what_ this number is, but fifty may probably be taken as an outside limit. remember the size increases by area section; twice the _sectional_ height and breadth means four times the rubber. § . =geared rubber motors.=--it is quite a mistake to suppose that any advantage can be obtained by using a four to one gearing, say; all that you do obtain is one-fourth of the power minus the increased friction, minus the added weight. this presumes, of course, you make no alteration in your rubber strands. gearing such as this means _short_ rubber strands, and such are not to be desired; in any case, there is the difficulty of increased friction and added weight to overcome. it is true by splitting up your rubber motor into two sets of strands instead of one you can obtain more turns, but, as we have seen, you must increase the number of strands to get the same thrust, and you have this to counteract any advantage you gain as well as added weight and friction. § . the writer has tried endless experiments with all kinds of geared rubber motors, and the only one worth a moment's consideration is the following, viz., one in which two gear wheels--same size, weight, and number of teeth--are made use of, the propeller being attached to the axle of one of them, and the same number of strands are used on each axle. the success or non-success of this motor depends entirely on the method used in its construction. at first sight it may appear that no great skill is required in the construction of such a simple piece of apparatus. no greater mistake could be made. it is absolutely necessary that _the friction and weight be reduced to a minimum_, and the strength be a maximum. the torque of the rubber strands on so short an arm is very great. ordinary light brass cogwheels will not stand the strain. a. the cogwheels should be of steel[ ] and accurately cut of diameter sufficient to separate the two strands the requisite distance, _but no more_. b. the weight must be a minimum. this is best attained by using solid wheels, and lightening by drilling and turning. c. the friction must be a minimum. use the lightest ball bearings obtainable (these weigh only · gramme), adjust the wheels so that they run with the greatest freedom, but see that the teeth overlap sufficiently to stand the strain and slight variations in direction without fear of slipping. shallow teeth are useless. d. use vaseline on the cogs to make them run as easily as possible. [illustration: fig. .--geared rubber motor. designed and constructed by the writer. for description of the model, etc., see appendix.] e. the material of the containing framework must be of maximum strength and minimum lightness. construct it of minimum size, box shaped, use the thinnest tin (really tinned sheet-iron) procurable, and lighten by drilling holes, not too large, all over it. do not use aluminium or magnalium. steel, could it be procured thin enough, would be better still. f. use steel pianoforte wire for the spindles, and hooks for the rubber strands, using as thin wire as will stand the strain. unless these directions are carefully carried out no advantage will be gained--the writer speaks from experience. the requisite number of rubber strands to give the best result must be determined by experiment. § . one advantage in using such a motor as this is that the two equal strands untwisting in opposite directions have a decided steadying effect on the model, similar almost to the case in which two propellers are used. the "best" model flights that the writer has achieved have been obtained with a motor of this description.[ ] in the case of twin screws two such gearings can be used, and the rubber split up into four strands. the containing framework in this case can be simply light pieces of tubing let into the wooden framework, or very light iron pieces fastened thereto. do not attempt to split up the rubber into more than two strands to each propeller. section ii.--other forms of motors. § a. =spring motors.=--this question has already been dealt with more or less whilst dealing with rubber motors, and the superiority of the latter over the former pointed out. rubber has a much greater superiority over steel or other springs, because in stretch-twisted rubber far more energy can be stored up weight for weight. one pound weight of elastic can be made to store up some ft.-lb. of energy, and steel only some lb. and in addition to this there is the question of gearing, involving extra weight and friction; that is, if flat steel springs similar to those used in clockwork mechanism be made use of, as is generally the case. the only instance in which such springs are of use is for the purpose of studying the effects of different distributions of weight on the model, and its effect on the balance of the machine; but effects such as this can be brought about without a change of motor. § b. a more efficient form of spring motor, doing away with gearing troubles, is to use a long spiral spring (as long as the rubber strands) made of medium-sized piano wire, similar in principle to those used in some roller-blinds, but longer and of thinner steel. the writer has experimented with such, as well as scores of other forms of spring motors, but none can compare with rubber. the long spiral form of steel spring is, however, much the best. § c. =compressed air motors.=--this is a very fascinating form of motor, on paper, and appears at first sight the ideal form. it is so easy to write: "its weight is negligible, and it can be provided free of cost; all that is necessary is to work a bicycle pump for as many minutes as the motor is desired to run. this stored-up energy can be contained in a mere tube, of aluminium or magnalium, forming the central rib of the machine, and the engine mechanism necessary for conveying this stored-up energy to the revolving propeller need weigh only a few ounces." another writer recommends "a pressure of lb." § d. a pneumatic drill generally works at about lb. pressure, and when developing horse-power, uses about cubic ft. of free air per minute. now if we apply this to a model aeroplane of average size, taking a reservoir ft. long by ½ in. internal diameter, made of magnalium, say--steel would, of course, be much better--the weight of which would certainly not be less than oz., we find that at lb. pressure such a motor would use /horse power (h.p.) cub. ft. per minute. now lb. is about ½ atmospheres, and the cubical contents of the above motor some cub. in. the time during which such a model would fly depends on the h.p. necessary for flight; but a fair allowance gives a flight of from to sec. i take lb. pressure as a fair practical limit. § e. the pressure in a motor-car tyre runs from to lb., usually about lb. now strokes are required with an ordinary inflator to obtain so low a pressure as lb., and it is no easy job, as those who have done it know. § . prior to mr. hargraves (of cellular kite fame) studied the question of compressed-air motors for model flying machines. his motor was described as a marvel of simplicity and lightness, its cylinder was made like a common tin can, the cylinder covers cut from sheet tin and pressed to shape, the piston and junk rings of ebonite. one of his receivers was - / in. long, and · in. diameter, of aluminium plate · in. thick, / in. by / in. riveting strips were insufficient to make tight joints; it weighed oz., and at lb. water pressure one of the ends blew out, the fracture occurring at the bend of the flange, and not along the line of rivets. the receiver which was successful being apparently a tin-iron one; steel tubing was not to be had at that date in sydney. with a receiver of this character, and the engine referred to above, a flight of ft. was obtained, this flight being the best. (the models constructed by him were not on the aeroplane, but ornithoptere, or wing-flapping principle.) the time of flight was _seconds_, with ½ double vibrations of the engines. the efficiency of this motor was estimated to be per cent. § . by using compressed air, and heating it in its passage to the cylinder, far greater efficiency can be obtained. steel cylinders can be obtained containing air under the enormous pressure of atmospheres.[ ] this is practically liquid air. a -ft. cylinder weighs empty lb. the smaller the cylinder the less the proportionate pressure that it will stand; and supposing a small steel cylinder, produced of suitable form and weight, and capable of withstanding with safety a pressure of from to lb. per sq. in., or from to atmospheres. the most economical way of working would be to admit the air from the reservoir directly to the motor cylinders; but this would mean a very great range in the initial working pressure, entailing not-to-be-thought-of weight in the form of multi-cylinder compound engines, variable expansion gear, etc. § . this means relinquishing the advantages of the high initial pressure, and the passing of the air through a reducing valve, whereby a constant pressure, say, of to , according to circumstances, could be maintained. by a variation in the ratio of expansion the air could be worked down to, say, lb. the initial loss entailed by the use of a reducing valve may be in a great measure restored by heating the air before using it in the motor cylinders; by heating it to a temperature of only °f., by means of a suitable burner, the volume of air is increased by one half, the consumption being reduced in the same proportion; the consumption of air used in this way being lb. per indicated horse-power per hour. but this means extra weight in the form of fuel and burners, and what we gain in one way we lose in another. it is, of course, desirable that the motor should work at as low a pressure as possible, since as the store of air is used up the pressure in the reservoir falls, until it reaches a limit below which it cannot usefully be employed. the air then remaining is dead and useless, adding only to the weight of the aeroplane. § . from calculations made by the writer the _entire_ weight of a compressed-air model motor plant would be at least _one-third_ the weight of the aeroplane, and on a small scale probably one-half, and cannot therefore hold comparison with the _steam engine_ discussed in the next paragraph. in concluding these remarks on compressed-air motors, i do not wish to dissuade anyone from trying this form of motor; but they must not embark on experiments with the idea that anything useful or anything superior to results obtained with infinitely less expense by means of rubber can be brought to pass with a bicycle pump, a bit of magnalium tube, and lb. pressure. § a. in tatin's air-compressed motor the reservoir weighed grammes, and had a capacity of litres. it was tested to withstand a pressure of atmospheres, but was worked only up to seven. the little engine attached thereto weighed grammes, and developed a motive power of kilogram-metres per second (_see_ ch. iii.). § . =steam-driven motors.=--several successful steam-engined model aeroplanes have been constructed, the most famous being those of professor langley. having constructed over modifications of rubber-driven models, and experimented with compressed air, carbonic-acid gas, electricity, and other methods of obtaining energy, he finally settled upon the steam engine (the petrol motor was not available at that time, ). after many months' work it was found that the weight could not be reduced below lb., whilst the engine would only develop ½ h.p., and finally the model was condemned. a second apparatus to be worked by compressed air was tried, but the power proved insufficient. then came another with a carbonic-acid gas engine. then others with various applications of electricity and gas, etc., but the steam engine was found most suitable; yet it seemed to become more and more doubtful whether it could ever be made sufficiently light, and whether the desired end could be attained at all. the chief obstacle proved not to be with the engines, which were made surprisingly light after sufficient experiment. _the great difficulty was to make a boiler of almost no weight which would give steam enough._ § . at last a satisfactory boiler and engine were produced. the engine was of to ½ h.p., total weight (including moving parts) oz. the cylinders, two in number, had each a diameter of ¼ in., and piston stroke in. the boiler, with its firegrate, weighed a little over lb. it consisted of a continuous helix of copper tubing, / in. external diameter, the diameter of the coil being in. altogether. through the centre of this was driven the blast from an "Ælopile," a modification of the naphtha blow-torch used by plumbers, the flame of which is about ° f.[ ] the pressure of steam issuing into the engines varied from to lb. per sq. in.; lb. weight of water and about oz. of naphtha could be carried. the boiler evaporated lb. of water per minute. the twin propellers, in. in diam., pitch ¼, revolved from to a minute. the entire aeroplane was ft. in length, the aerofoils from tip to tip about ft., and the total weight slightly less than lb., of which _one-fourth was contained in the machinery_. its flight was a little over half a mile in length, and of ½ minutes' duration. another model flew for about three-quarters of a mile, at a rate of about miles an hour. it will be noted that engine, generator, etc., work out at about lb. per h.p. considerable advance has been made in the construction of light and powerful model steam engines since langley's time, chiefly in connexion with model hydroplanes, and a pressure of from to lb. per sq. in. has been employed; the steam turbine has been brought to a high state of perfection, and it is now possible to make a model de laval turbine of considerable power weighing almost next to nothing,[ ] the real trouble, in fact the only one, being the steam generator. an economization of weight means a waste of steam, of which models can easily spend their only weight in five minutes. § . one way to economize without increased weight in the shape of a condenser is to use spirit (methylated spirit, for instance) for both fuel and boiler, and cause the exhaust from the engines to be ejected on to the burning spirit, where it itself serves as fuel. by using spirit, or some very volatile hydrocarbon, instead of water, we have a further advantage from the fact that such vaporize at a much lower temperature than water. § . when experimenting with an engine of the turbine type we must use a propeller of small diameter and pitch, owing to the very high velocity at which such engines run. anyone, however, who is not an expert on such matters would do well to leave such motors alone, as the very highest technical skill, combined with many preliminary disappointments and trials, are sure to be encountered before success is attained. § . and the smaller the model the more difficult the problem--halve your aeroplane, and your difficulties increase anything from fourfold to tenfold. the boiler would in any case be of the flash type of either copper or steel tubing (the former for safety), with a magnalium container for the spirit, and a working pressure of from to lb. per sq. in. anything less than this would not be worth consideration. § . some ten months after professor langley's successful model flights ( ), experiments were made in france at carquenez, near toulon. the total weight of the model aeroplane in this case was lb.; the engine power a little more than h.p. twin screws were used--_one in front and one behind_. the maximum velocity obtained was miles per hour; but the length of run only yards, and duration of flight only a few seconds. this result compares very poorly with langley's distance (of best flight), nearly one mile, duration min. sec. the maximum velocity was greater-- to miles per hour. the total breadth of this large model was rather more than metres, and the surface a little more than sq. metres. § . =petrol motors.=--here it would appear at first thought is the true solution of the problem of the model aeroplane motor. such a motor has solved the problem of aerial locomotion, as the steam engine solved that of terrestrial and marine travel, both full sized and model; and if in the case of full sized machines, then why not models. [illustration: fig. .--mr. stanger's model in full flight.] [illustration: fig. .--mr. stanger's petrol-driven model aeroplane. (_illustrations by permission from electros supplied by the "aero."_)] § . the exact size of the smallest _working_ model steam engine that has been made i do not know,[ ] but it is or could be surprisingly small; not so the petrol motor--not one, that is, that would _work_. the number of petrol motor-driven model aeroplanes that have actually flown is very small. personally i only know of one, viz., mr. d. stanger's, exhibited at the aero exhibition at the agricultural hall in . [illustration: fig. .--mr. stanger's model petrol engine.] [illustration: fig. .--mr. stanger's model petrol engine.] in fig. the motor is in position on the aeroplane. note small carburettor. in fig. an idea of the size of engine may be gathered by comparing it with the ordinary sparking-plug seen by the side, whilst to the left of this is one of the special plugs used on this motor. (_illustrations by permission from electros supplied by the "aero."_) § . the following are the chief particulars of this interesting machine:--the engine is a four-cylinder one, and weighs (complete with double carburetter and petrol tank) ½ lb., and develops ¼ h.p. at revolutions per minute. [illustration: fig. .--one-cylinder petrol motor. (_electro from messrs. a.w. gamage's aviation catalogue._)] the propeller, in. in diam. and in. in pitch, gives a static thrust of about lb. the machine has a spread of ft. in., and is ft. in. in length. total weight lb. rises from the ground when a speed of about miles an hour is attained. a clockwork arrangement automatically stops the engine. the engine air-cooled. the cylinder of steel, cast-iron heads, aluminium crank-case, double float feed carburetter, ignition by single coil and distributor. the aeroplane being ft. in. long, and having a span ft. § . =one-cylinder petrol motors.=--so far as the writer is aware no success has as yet attended the use of a single-cylinder petrol motor on a model aeroplane. undoubtedly the vibration is excessive; but this should not be an insuperable difficulty. it is true it is heavier in proportion than a two-cylinder one, and not so efficient; and so far has not proved successful. the question of vibration on a model aeroplane is one of considerable importance. a badly balanced propeller even will seriously interfere with and often greatly curtail the length of flight. § . =electric motors.=--no attempt should on any account be made to use electric motors for model aeroplanes. they are altogether too heavy, apart even from the accumulator or source of electric energy, for the power derivable from them. to take an extreme case, and supposing we use a -oz. electric motor capable of driving a propeller giving a static thrust of oz.,[ ] on weighing one of the smallest size accumulators without case, etc., i find its weight is ½ oz. one would, of course, be of no use; at least three would be required, and they would require practically short circuiting to give sufficient amperage (running them down, that is, in some to seconds). total weight, lb. nearly. now from a _pound_ weight of rubber one could obtain a thrust of _pounds_, not ounces. for scale models not intended for actual flight, of course, electric motors have their uses. footnotes: [ ] also there is no necessity for gearing. [ ] in his latest models the writer uses strands even three times and not twice as long, viz. fourteen strands in. long. [ ] this refers to / in. square sectioned rubber. [ ] of uniform breadth and thickness. [ ] in practice i find not quite so high a proportion as this is always necessary. [ ] steel pinion wire is very suitable. [ ] see appendix. [ ] as high a pressure as atmospheres has been used. [ ] there was a special pump keeping the water circulating rapidly through the boiler, the intense heat converting some of it into steam as it flowed. the making of this boiler alone consumed months of work; the entire machine taking a year to construct, with the best mechanical help available. [ ] model steam turbines. "model engineer" series, no. , price _d._ [ ] see introduction, note to § . [ ] the voltage, etc., is not stated. chapter v. propellers or screws. § . the design and construction of propellers, more especially the former, is without doubt one of the most difficult parts of model aeroplaning. with elastic or spring driven models the problem is more complicated than for models driven by petrol or some vaporized form of liquid fuel; and less reliable information is to hand. the problem of _weight_, unfortunately, is of primary importance. we will deal with these points in due course; to begin with let us take:-- the position of the propeller. in model aeroplanes the propeller is usually situated either in front or in the rear of the model; in the former case it is called a tractor screw, i.e., it pulls instead of pushes. as to the merits of the two systems with respect to the tractor, there is, we know, in the case of models moving through water a distinct advantage in placing the propeller behind, and using a pushing or propulsive action, on account of the frictional "wake" created behind the boat, and which causes the water to flow after the vessel, but at a lesser velocity. in placing the propeller behind, we place it in such a position as to act upon and make use of this phenomenon, the effect of the propeller being to bring this following wake to rest. theoretically a boat, model or otherwise, can be propelled with less horse-power than it can be towed. but with respect to aeroplanes, apart altogether from the difference of medium, there is _at present_ a very considerable difference of _form_, an aeroplane, model or otherwise, bearing at present but little resemblance to the hull of a boat. undoubtedly there is a frictional wake in the case of aeroplanes, possibly quite as much in proportion as in the case of a boat, allowing for difference of medium. admitting, then, that this wake does exist, it follows that a propulsive screw is better than a tractor. in a matter of this kind constructional considerations, or "ease of launching," and "ability to land without damage," must be given due weight. in the case of model aeroplanes constructional details incline the balance neither one way nor the other; but "ease in launching" and "ability to land without damage" weigh the balance down most decidedly in favour of a driving or propulsive screw. in the case of full-sized monoplanes constructional details had most to do with the use of tractors; but monoplanes are now being built with propulsive screws.[ ] in the case of models, not models of full-sized machines, but actual model flyers, the writer considers propulsive screws much the best.[ ] in no case should the propeller be placed in the centre of the model, or in such a position as to _shorten the strands of the elastic motor_, if good flights are desired. in the case of petrol or similar driven models the position of the propeller can be safely copied from actual well-recognised and successful full-sized machines. § . =the number of blades.=--theoretically the number of blades does not enter into consideration. the mass of air dealt with by the propeller is represented by a cylinder of indefinite length, whose diameter is the same as that of the screw, and the rate at which this cylinder is projected to the rear depends theoretically upon the pitch and revolutions (per minute, say) of the propeller and not the number of blades. theoretically one blade (helix incomplete) would be sufficient, but such a screw would not "balance," and balance is of primary importance; the minimum number of blades which can be used is therefore _two_. in marine models three blades are considered best, as giving a better balance. in the case of their aerial prototypes the question of _weight_ has again to be considered, and two blades is practically the invariable custom.[ ] here, again, constructional considerations again come to the fore, and in the case of wooden propellers one of two blades is of far more easy construction than one of three. by increasing the number of blades the "thrust" is, of course, more evenly distributed over a larger area, but the weight is considerably increased, and in models a greater advantage is gained by keeping down the weight than might follow from the use of more blades. § . =fan versus propeller.=--it must always be most carefully borne in mind that a fan (ventilating) and a propeller are not the same thing. because many blades are found in practice to be efficient in the case of the former, it is quite wrong to assume that the same conclusion holds in the case of the latter. by increasing the number of blades the skin friction due to the resistance that has to be overcome in rotating the propeller through the air is added to. moreover a fan is stationary, whilst a propeller is constantly _advancing_ as well as _rotating_ through the air. the action of a fan blower is to move a small quantity of air at a high velocity; whereas the action of a propeller is, or should be, to move _a large quantity of air at a small velocity_, for the function of a screw is to create thrust. operating on a yielding fluid medium this thrust will evidently be in proportion to the mass of fluid moved, and also to the velocity at which it is put in motion. but the power consumed in putting this mass of fluid in motion is proportional to the mass and to the _square_ of the velocity at which it moves. from this it follows, as stated above, that in order to obtain a given thrust with the least loss of power, the mass of fluid acted on should be as large as possible, and the velocity imparted to it as little as possible. a fan requires to be so designed as to create a thrust when stationary (static thrust), and a propeller whilst moving through the air (dynamic thrust). § . =the function of a propeller= is to produce dynamic thrust; and the great advantage of the use of a propeller as a thrusting or propulsive agent is that its surface is always active. it has no _dead_ points, and its motion is continuous and not reciprocating, and it requires no special machinery or moving parts in its construction and operation. § . =the pitch= of a propeller or screw is the linear distance a screw moves, backwards or forwards, in one complete revolution. this distance is purely a theoretical one. when, for instance, a screw is said to have a pitch of ft., or in., it means that the model would advance ft. through the air for each revolution of the screw, provided that the propeller blade were mounted in _solid_ guides, like a nut on a bolt with one thread per foot. in a yielding fluid such as water or air it does not practically advance this distance, and hence occurs what is known as-- § . =slip=, which may be defined as the distance which ought to be traversed, but which is lost through imperfections in the propelling mechanism; or it may be considered as power which should have been used in driving the model forward. in the case of a locomotive running on dry rails nothing is lost in slip, there being none. in the case of a steamer moored and her engines set going, or of an aeroplane held back prior to starting, all the power is used in slip, i.e. in putting the fluid in motion, and none is used in propulsion. supposing the propeller on our model has a pitch of ft., and we give the elastic motor turns, theoretically the model should travel ft. in calm air before the propeller is run down; no propeller yet designed will do this. supposing the actual length ft., per cent. has been lost in "slip." for this to be actually correct the propeller must stop at the precise instant when the machine comes to ground. taking "slip" into account, then-- _the speed of the model in feet per minute = pitch (in feet) × revolutions per minute -- slip (feet per minute)._ this slip wants to be made small--just how small is not yet known. if made too small then the propeller will not be so efficient, or, at any rate, such is the conclusion come to in marine propulsion, where it is found for the most economical results to be obtained that the slip should be from to per cent. in the case of aerial propellers a slip of per cent. is quite good, per cent. bad; and there are certain reasons for assuming that possibly about per cent. may be the best. § . it is true that slip represents energy lost; but some slip is essential, because without slip there could be no "thrust," this same thrust being derived from the reaction of the volume of air driven backwards. the thrust is equal to-- _weight of mass of air acted on per second × slip velocity in feet per second._ in the case of an aeroplane advancing through the air it might be thought that the thrust would be less. sir hiram maxim found, however, as the result of his experiments that the thrust with a propeller travelling through the air at a velocity of miles an hour was the same as when stationary, the r.p.m. remaining constant throughout. the explanation is that when travelling the propeller is continually advancing on to "undisturbed" air, the "slip" velocity is reduced, but the undisturbed air is equivalent to acting upon a greater mass of air. § . =pitch coefficient or pitch ratio.=--if we divide the pitch of a screw by its diameter we obtain what is known as pitch coefficient or ratio. the mean value of eighteen pitch coefficients of well-known full-sized machines works out at · , which, as it so happens, is exactly the same as the case of the farman machine propeller considered alone, this ratio varying from · to · ; in the case of the wright's machine it is (probably) . the efficiency of their propeller is admitted on all hands. their propeller is, of course, a slow-speed propeller, r.p.m. the one on the blériot monoplane (blériot xi.) pitch ratio · , r.p.m. . in marine propulsion the pitch ratio is generally · for a slow-speed propeller, decreasing to · for a high-speed one. in the case of rubber-driven model aeroplanes the pitch ratio is often carried much higher, even to over . mr. t.w.k. clarke recommends a pitch angle of °, or less, at the tips, and a pitch ratio of - / (with an angle of °). within limits the higher the pitch ratio the better the efficiency. the higher the pitch ratio the slower may be the rate of revolution. now in a rubber motor we do not want the rubber to untwist (run out) too quickly; with too fine a pitch the propeller "races," or does something remarkably like it. it certainly revolves with an abnormally high percentage of slip. and for efficiency it is certainly desirable to push this ratio to its limit; but there is also the question of the § . =diameter.=--"the diameter (says mr. t.w.k. clarke) should be equal to one-quarter the span of the machine." if we increase the diameter we shall decrease the pitch ratio. from experiments which the writer has made he prefers a lower pitch ratio and increased diameter, viz. a pitch ratio of · , and a diameter of one-third to even one-half the span, or even more.[ ] certainly not less than one-third. some model makers indulge in a large pitch ratio, angle, diameter, and blade area as well, but such a course is not to be recommended. § . =theoretical pitch.=--theoretically the pitch (from boss to tip) should at all points be the same; the boss or centre of the blade at right angles to the plane of rotation, and the angle decreasing as one approaches the tips. this is obvious when one considers that the whole blade has to move forward the same amount. in the diagrams figs. and the tip a of the propeller travels a distance = {pi} r every revolution. at a point d on the blade, distant _r_ from the centre, the distance is {pi} _r_. in both instances the two points must advance a distance equal to the pitch, i.e. the distance represented by p o. [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. . a o = {pi} r; d o = {pi} _r_.] a will move along a p, b along b p, and so on. the angles at the points a, b, c ... (fig. ), showing the angles at which the corresponding parts of the blade at a, b, c ... in fig. must be set in order that a uniform pitch may be obtained. § . if the pitch be not uniform then there will be some portions of the blade which will drag through the air instead of affording useful thrust, and others which will be doing more than they ought, putting air in motion which had better be left quiet. this uniform total pitch for all parts of the propeller is (as already stated) a decreasing rate of pitch from the centre to the edge. with a total pitch of ft., and a radius of ft., and an angle at the circumference of °, then the angle of pitch at a point midway between centre and circumference should be °, in order that the total pitch may be the same at all parts. § . =to ascertain the pitch of a propeller.=--take any point on one of the blades, and carefully measure the inclination of the blade at that point to the plane of rotation. if the angle so formed be about ° ( · ),[ ] i.e., in , and the point in. from the centre, then every revolution this point will travel a distance {pi} _r_ = × / × = · . now since the inclination is in ,[ ] the propeller will travel forward theoretically one-third of this distance, or · / = · = ½ in. approx. similarly any other case may be dealt with. if the propeller have a uniform _constant angle_ instead of a uniform pitch, then the pitch may be calculated at a point about one-third the length of the blade from the tip. § . =hollow-faced blades.=[ ]--it must always be carefully borne in mind that a propeller is nothing more nor less than a particular form of aeroplane specially designed to travel a helical path. it should, therefore, be hollow faced and partake of the "stream line" form, a condition not fulfilled if the face of the blade be flat--such a surface cutting into the air with considerable shock, and by no means creating as little undesirable motion in the surrounding medium as possible. it must not be forgotten that a curved face blade has of necessity an increasing pitch from the cutting to the trailing edge (considering, of course, any particular section). in such a case the pitch is the _mean effective pitch_. § . =blade area.=--we have already referred to the fact that the function of a propeller is to produce dynamic thrust--to drive the aeroplane forward by driving the air backwards. at the same time it is most desirable for efficiency that the air should be set in motion as little as possible, this being so much power wasted; to obtain the greatest reaction or thrust the greatest possible volume of air should be accelerated to the smallest velocity. in marine engineering in slow-speed propellers (where cavitation[ ] does not come in) narrow blades are usually used. in high-speed marine propellers (where cavitation is liable to occur) the projected area of the blades is sometimes as much as · of the total disk area. in the case of aerial propellers, where cavitation does not occur, or not unless the velocity be a very high one ( or more a minute), narrow blades are the best. experiments in marine propulsion also show that the thrust depends more on the disk area than on the width of the blades. all the facts tend to show that for efficiency the blades of the propeller should be narrow, in order that the air may not be acted on for too long a time, and so put too much in motion, and the blades be so separated that one blade does not disturb the molecules of air upon which the next following one must act. both in the case of marine and aerial propellers multiplicity of blades (i.e. increased blade area) tends to inefficiency of action, apart altogether from the question of weight and constructional difficulties. the question of increasing pitch in the case of hollow-faced blades, considered in the last paragraph, has a very important bearing on the point we are considering. to make a wide blade under such circumstances would be to soon obtain an excessive angle. in the case of a flat blade the same result holds, because the air has by the contact of its molecules with the "initial minimum width" been already accelerated up to its final velocity, and further area is not only wasted, but inimical to good flights, being our old bugbear "weight in excess." requisite strength and stiffness, of course, set a limit on the final narrowness of the blades, apart from other considerations. § . the velocity with which the propeller is rotated has also an important bearing on this point; but a higher speed than r.p.m. does not appear desirable, and even or less is generally preferable.[ ] in case of twin-screw propellers, with an angle at the tips of ° to °, as low a velocity of or even less would be still better.[ ] § . =shrouding.=--no improvement whatever is obtained by the use of any kind of shrouding or ring round the propeller tips, or by corrugating the surface of the propeller, or by using cylindrical or cone-shaped propeller chamber or any kind of air guide either before or after the propeller; allow it to revolve in as free an air-feed as possible, the air does not fly off under centrifugal force, but is powerfully sucked inwards in a well-designed propeller. [illustration: fig. . a tube of air.] [illustration: fig. . a cylinder of air.] § . =general design.=--the propeller should be so constructed as to act upon a tube and not a "cylinder" of air. many flying toys (especially the french ones) are constructed with propellers of the cylinder type. ease of manufacture and the contention that those portions of the blades adjacent to the boss do little work, and a slight saving in weight, are arguments that can be urged in their favour. but all the central cut away part offers resistance in the line of travel, instead of exerting its proportionate propulsive power, and their efficiency is affected by such a practice. § . a good =shape= for the blades[ ] is rectangular with rounded corners; the radius of the circle for rounding off the corners may be taken as about one-quarter of the width of the blade. the shape is not _truly rectangular, for the width of this rectangular at (near) the boss should be one-half the width at the tip_. the thickness should diminish uniformly from the boss to the tip. (in models the thickness should be as little as is consistent with strength to keep down the weight). _the pitch uniform and large._ [illustration: fig. .--o t = / o p.] § . =the blades, two in number=, and hollow faced--the maximum concavity being one-third the distance from the entering to the trailing edge; the ratio of a t to o p (the width) being · or : , these latter considerations being founded on the analogy between a propeller and the aerofoil surface. (if the thickness be varied from the entering to the trailing edge the greatest thickness should be towards the former.) the convex surface of the propeller must be taken into account, in fact, it is no less important than the concave, and the entire surface must be given a true "stream line" form. [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] if the entering and trailing edge be not both straight, but one be curved as in fig. , then the straight edge must be made the _trailing_ edge. and if both be curved as in fig. , then the _concave_ edge must be the trailing edge. § . =propeller design.=--to design a propeller, proceed as follows. suppose the diameter in. and the pitch three times the diameter, i.e. in. (see fig. .) take one-quarter scale, say. draw a centre line a b of convenient length, set of half the pitch in. -- ¼ scale = ¼ in. = c - d. draw lines through c and d at right angles to c d. with a radius equal to half the diameter (i.e. in this case ¾ in.) of the propeller, describe a semicircle e b f and complete the parallelogram f h g e. divide the semicircle into a number of equal parts; twelve is a convenient number to take, then each division subtends an angle of ° at the centre d. divide one of the sides e g into the same number of equal parts (twelve) as shown. through these points draw lines parallel to f e or h g. and through the twelve points of division on the semicircle draw lines parallel to f h or e g as shown. the line drawn through the successive intersections of these lines is the path of the tip of the blade through half a revolution, viz. the line h s o t e. s o t x gives the angle at the tip of the blades = °. let the shape of the blade be rectangular with rounded corners, and let the breadth at the tip be twice that at the boss. then the area (neglecting the rounded off corners) is ½ sq. in. [illustration: fig. .--propeller design. one quarter scale. diameter in. pitch in. angle at tip °.] the area being that of a rectangle in. × in. = sq. in. plus area of two triangles, base ½ in., height in. now area of triangle = half base × height. therefore area of both triangles = ½ in. × in. = ½ sq. in. now the area of the disc swept out by the propeller is {pi}/ × (diam.)² ({pi} = / ) [illustration: fig. .--propeller design. scale one-eighth for a b and b c; but sections of blade are full-sized.] and if _d_ a _r_ = the "disc area ratio" we have (_d_ a _r_) × {pi}/ × ( )² = area of blade = ½, whence _d_ a _r_ = · about. [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] in fig. set off a b equal to the pitch of the propeller ( in.), one-eighth scale. set off b c at right angles to a b and equal to {pi} × diameter = / × = in. to scale ½ in. divide b c into a convenient number of equal parts in the figure; five only are taken, d, e, f, g, h; join a d, a e, a f, a g, a h and produce them; mark off distances p o, s r, y t ... equal to the width of the blade at these points (h p = h o; g s = g r ...) and sketch in the sections of blade as desired. in the figure the greatest concavity of the blade is supposed to be one-third the distances p o, s r ... from ps.... the concavity is somewhat exaggerated. the angles a h b, a g b, a f b ... represent the pitch angle at the points h, g, f ... of the blade. similarly any other design may be dealt with; in a propeller of in. diameter the diameter of the "boss" should not be more than / in. § . =experiments with propellers.=--the propeller design shown in figs. and , due to mr. g. de havilland,[ ] is one very suitable for experimental purposes. a single tube passing through a t-shaped boss forms the arms. on the back of the metal blade are riveted four metallic clips; these clips being tightened round the arm by countersunk screws in the face of the blade. the tube and clips, etc., are all contained with the back covering of the blade, as shown in fig. , if desired, the blade then practically resembling a wooden propeller. the construction, it will be noticed, allows of the blade being set at any angle, constant or otherwise; also the pitch can be constant or variable as desired, and any "shape" of propeller can be fitted. the advantage of being able to _twist_ the blade (within limits) on the axis is one not to be underestimated in experimental work. [illustration: fig. .--the author's propeller testing apparatus.] with a view to ascertain some practical and reliable data with respect to the _dynamic_, or actual thrust given when moving through free air at the velocity of actual travel, the author experimented with the apparatus illustrated in figs. and , which is so simple and obvious as to require scarcely any explanation. the wires were of steel, length not quite ft., fitted with wire strainers for equalising tension, and absolutely free from "kinks." as shown most plainly in fig. , there were two parallel wires sufficiently far apart for the action of one propeller not to affect the other. calling these two wires a and b, and two propellers _x_ and _y_, then _x_ is first tried on a and _y_ on b. results carefully noted. [illustration: fig. .--propeller testing. showing distance separating the two wires.] then _x_ is tried on b and _y_ on a, and the results again carefully noted. if the results confirm one another, the power used in both cases being the same, well and good; if not, adjustments, etc., are made in the apparatus until satisfactory results are obtained. this was done when the propellers "raced" one against the other. at other times one wire only was made use of, and the time and distance traversed was noted in each case. propellers were driven through smoke, and with silk threads tied to a light framework slightly larger than their disc area circumference. results of great interest were arrived at. these results have been assumed in much that has been said in the foregoing paragraphs. [illustration: fig. .--one group of propellers tested by the author.] briefly put, these results showed:-- . the inefficiency of a propeller of the fan blower or of the static thrust type. . the advantage of using propellers having hollow-faced blades and large diameter. . that diameter was more useful than blade area, i.e. given a certain quantity (weight) of wood, make a long thin blade and not a shorter one of more blade area--blade area, i.e., as proportionate to its corresponding disc area. . that the propeller surface should be of true stream-line form. . that it should act on a cylinder and not tubes of air. . that a correctly designed and proportioned propeller was just as efficacious in a small size of in. to in. as a full-sized propeller on a full-sized machine. [illustration: fig. .--an efficient propeller, but rather heavy. ball bearings, old and new. note difference in sizes and weights. propeller, in. diam.; weight grammes.] a propeller of the static-thrust type was, of course, "first off," sometimes ft. or ft. ahead, or even more; but the correctly designed propeller gradually gathered up speed and acceleration, just as the other fell off and lost it, and finally the "dynamic" finished along its corresponding wire far ahead of the "static," sometimes twice as far, sometimes six times. "freak" propellers were simply not in it. [illustration: fig. .--"venna" propeller. a per cent. more efficient propeller than that shown in fig. ; per cent. lighter; per cent. better in dynamic thrust-- in. diam.; weight grammes.] metal propellers of constant angle, as well as wooden ones of uniform (constant) pitch, were tested; the former gave good results, but not so good as the latter. the best angle of pitch (at the tip) was found to be from ° to °. in all cases when the slip was as low as per cent., or even somewhat less, nearly per cent., a distinct "back current" of air was given out by the screw. this "slip stream," as it is caused, is absolutely necessary for efficiency. § . =fabric-covered= screws did not give very efficient results; the only point in their use on model aeroplanes is their extreme lightness. two such propellers of in. diameter can be made to weigh less than / oz. the pair; but wooden propellers (built-up principle) have been made in. diameter and / oz. in weight. § . further experiments were made with twin screws mounted on model aeroplanes. in one case two propellers, both turning in the _same_ direction, were mounted (without any compensatory adjustment for torque) on a model, total weight ½ lb. diameter of each propeller in.; angle of blade at tip °. the result was several good flights--the model (_see_ fig. c) was slightly unsteady across the wind, that was all. in another experiment two propellers of same diameter, pitch, etc., but of shape similar to those shown in figs. and , were tried as twin propellers on the same machine. the rubber motors were of equal weight and strength. the model described circled to the right or left according to the position of the curved-shaped propeller, whether on the left or right hand, thereby showing its superiority in dynamic thrust. various alterations were made, but always with the same result. these experiments have since been confirmed, and there seems no doubt that the double-curved shaped blade _is_ superior. (see fig. .) § . =the fleming-williams propeller.=--a chapter on propellers would scarcely be complete without a reference to the propeller used on a machine claiming a record of over a quarter of a mile. this form of propeller, shown in the group in fig. (top right hand), was found by the writer to be extremely deficient in dynamic thrust, giving the worst result of any shown there. [illustration: fig. .--curved double propeller. the most efficient type yet tested by the writer, when the blade is made hollow-faced. when given to the writer to test it was flat-faced on one side.] [illustration: fig. .--the fleming-williams model.] it possesses large blade area, large pitch angle--more than ° at the tip--and large diameter. these do not combine to propeller efficiency or to efficient dynamic thrust; but they do, of course, combine to give the propeller a very slow rotational velocity. provided they give _sufficient_ thrust to cause the model to move through the air at a velocity capable of sustaining it, a long flight may result, not really owing to true efficiency on the part of the propellers,[ ] but owing to the check placed on their revolutions per minute by their abnormal pitch angle, etc. the amount of rubber used is very great for a oz. model, namely, strands of / in. square rubber to each propeller, i.e. strands in all. [illustration: fig. .--the same in flight. (_reproduced by permission from "the aero."_)] on the score of efficiency, when it is desired to make a limited number of turns give the longest flight (which is the problem one always has to face when using a rubber motor) it is better to make use of an abnormal diameter, say, more than half the span, and using a tip pitch angle of °, than to make use of an abnormal tip pitch ° and more, and large blade area. in a large pitch angle so much energy is wasted, not in dynamic thrust, but in transverse upsetting torque. on no propeller out of dozens and dozens that i have tested have i ever found a tip-pitch of more than ° give a good dynamic thrust; and for length of flight velocity due to dynamic thrust must be given due weight, as well as the duration of running down of the rubber motor. § . of built up or carved out and twisted wooden propellers, the former give the better result; the latter have an advantage, however, in sometimes weighing less. footnotes: [ ] _note._--since the above was written some really remarkable flights have been obtained with a oz. model having two screws, one in front and the other behind. equally good flights have also been obtained with the two propellers behind, one revolving in the immediate rear of the other. flying, of course, with the wind, _weight_ is of paramount importance in these little models, and in both these cases the "single stick" can be made use of. _see also_ ch. iv., § . [ ] _see also_ ch. viii., § . [ ] save in case of some models with fabric-covered propellers. some dirigibles are now being fitted with four-bladed wooden screws. [ ] vide appendix. [ ] vide equivalent inclinations--table of. [ ] one in or · is the _sine_ of the angle; similarly if the angle were ° the sine would be · or ½, and the theoretical distance travelled one-half. [ ] _flat-faced blades._--if the blade be not hollow-faced--and we consider the screw as an inclined plane and apply the duchemin formula to it--the velocity remaining the same, the angle of maximum thrust is ¼°. experiments made with such screws confirm this. [ ] cavitation is when the high speed of the screw causes it to carry round a certain amount of the medium with it, so that the blades strike no undisturbed, or "solid," air at all, with a proportionate decrease in thrust. [ ] in the wright machine r.p.m. = ; in blériot xi. r.p.m. = . [ ] such propellers, however, require a considerable amount of rubber. [ ] but _see also_ § . [ ] "flight," march , . (illustration reproduced by permission.) [ ] according to the author's views on the subject. chapter vi. the question of sustentation the centre of pressure. § . passing on now to the study of an aeroplane actually in the air, there are two forces acting on it, the upward lift due to the air (i.e. to the movement of the aeroplane supposed to be continually advancing on to fresh, undisturbed _virgin_ air), and the force due to the weight acting vertically downwards. we can consider the resultant of all the upward sustaining forces as acting at a single point--that point is called the "centre of pressure." suppose a b a vertical section of a flat aerofoil, inclined at a small angle _a_ to the horizon c, the point of application of the resultant upward 'lift,' d the point through which the weight acts vertically downwards. omitting for the moment the action of propulsion, if these two forces balance there will be equilibrium; but to do this they must pass through the same point, but as the angle of inclination varies, so does the centre of pressure, and some means must be employed whereby if c and d coincide at a certain angle the aeroplane will come back to the correct angle of balance if the latter be altered. in a model the means must be automatic. automatic stability depends for its action upon the movement of the centre of pressure when the angle of incidence varies. when the angle of incidence increases the centre of pressure moves backwards towards the rear of the aerofoil, and vice versa. let us take the case when steady flight is in progress and c and d are coincident, suppose the velocity of the wind suddenly to increase--increased lifting effect is at once the result, and the fore part of the machine rises, i.e. the angle of incidence increases and the centre of pressure moves back to some point in the rear of c d. the weight is now clearly trying to pull the nose of the aeroplane down, and the "lift" tending to raise the tail. the result being an alteration of the angle of incidence, or angle of attack as it is called, until it resumes its original position of equilibrium. a drop in the wind causes exactly an opposite effect. [illustration: fig. .] § . the danger lies in "oscillations" being set up in the line of flight due to changes in the position of the centre of pressure. hence the device of an elevator or horizontal tail for the purpose of damping out such oscillations. § . but the aerofoil surface is not flat, owing to the increased "lift" given by arched surfaces, and a much more complicated set of phenomena then takes place, the centre of pressure moving forward until a certain critical angle of incidence is reached, and after this a reversal takes place, the centre of pressure then actually moving backwards. the problem then consists in ascertaining the most efficient aerocurve to give the greatest "lift" with the least "drift," and, having found it, to investigate again experimentally the movements of the centre of pressure at varying angles, and especially to determine at what angle (about) this "reversal" takes place. [illustration: fig. .] § . natural automatic stability (the only one possible so far as models are concerned) necessitates permanent or a permanently recurring coincidence (to coin a phrase) of the centre of gravity and the centre of pressure: the former is, of course, totally unaffected by the vagaries of the latter, any shifting of which produces a couple tending to destroy equilibrium. § . as to the best form of camber (for full sized machine) possibly more is known on this point than on any other in the whole of aeronautics. in figs. and are given two very efficient forms of cambered surfaces for models. [illustration: fig. .--an efficient form of camber. b d maximum altitude. a c chord. ratio of b d: a c :: : . a d / of a c.] [illustration: fig. .--another efficient form. ratio of b d to a c to . ad rather more than ¼ of a c.] the next question, after having decided the question of aerocurve, or curvature of the planes, is at what angle to set the cambered surface to the line of flight. this brings us to the question of the-- § . =dipping front edge.=--the leading or front edge is not tangential to the line of flight, but to a relative upward wind. it is what is known as the "cyclic up-current," which exists in the neighbourhood of the entering edge. now, as we have stated before, it is of paramount importance that the aerofoil should receive the air with as little shock as possible, and since this up-current does really exist to do this, it must travel through the air with a dipping front edge. the "relative wind" (the only one with which we are concerned) _is_ thereby met tangentially, and as it moves onward through the air the cambered surface (or aerocurve) gradually transforms this upward trend into a downward wake, and since by newton's law, "action and reaction are equal and opposite," we have an equal and opposite upward reaction. we now know that the top (or convex side) of the cambered surface is practically almost as important as the underneath or concave side in bringing this result about. the exact amount of "dipping edge," and the exact angle at which the chord of the aerocurve, or cambered surface, should be set to the line of flight--whether at a positive angle, at no angle, or at a negative angle--is one best determined by experiment on the model in question. [illustration: fig. .] but _if at any angle, that angle either way should be a very small one_. if you wish to be very scientific you can give the underside of the front edge a negative angle of ° to ° for about one-eighth of the total length of the section, after that a positive angle, gradually increasing until you finally finish up at the trailing edge with one of °. also, the form of cambered surface should be a paraboloid--not arc or arc of circles. the writer does not recommend such an angle, but prefers an attitude similar to that adopted in the wright machine, as in fig. . § . apart from the attitude of the aerocurve: _the greatest depth of the camber should be at one-third of the length of the section from the front edge, and the total depth measured from the top surface to the chord at this point should not be more than one-seventeenth of the length of section_. § . it is the greatest mistake in model aeroplanes to make the camber otherwise than very slight (in the case of surfaced aerofoils the resistance is much increased), and aerofoils with anything but a _very slight_ arch are liable to be very unstable, for the aerocurve has always a decided tendency to "follow its own curve." [illustration: fig. .--attitude of wright machine.] the nature of the aerocurve, its area, the angle of inclination of its chord to the line of flight, its altitude, etc., are not the only important matters one must consider in the case of the aerofoil, we must also consider-- § . its =aspect ratio=, i.e. the ratio of the span (length) of the aerofoil to the chord--usually expressed by span/chord. in the farman machine this ratio is · ; blériot, · ; short, to · ; roe triplane, · ; a clark flyer, · . now the higher the aspect ratio the greater should be the efficiency. air escaping by the sides represents loss, and the length of the sides should be kept short. a broader aerofoil means a steeper angle of inclination, less stability, unnecessary waste of power, and is totally unsuited for a model--to say nothing of a full-sized machine. in models this aspect ratio may with advantage be given a higher value than in full-sized machines, where it is well known a practical safe constructional limit is reached long before theory suggests the limit. the difficulty consists in constructing models having a very high aspect ratio, and yet possessing sufficient strength and lightness for successful flight. it is in such a case as this where the skill and ingenuity of the designer and builder come in. it is this very question of aspect ratio which has given us the monoplane, the biplane, and the triplane. a biplane has a higher aspect ratio than a monoplane, and a triplane (see above) a higher ratio still. it will be noticed the clark model given has a considerably higher aspect ratio, viz. · . and even this can be exceeded. _an aspect ratio of_ : _or even_ : _should be used if possible._[ ] § . =constant or varying camber.=--some model makers vary the camber of their aerofoils, making them almost flat in some parts, with considerable camber in others; the tendency in some cases being to flatten the central portions of the aerofoil, and with increasing camber towards the tips. in others the opposite is done. the writer has made a number of experiments on this subject, but cannot say he has arrived at any very decisive results, save that the camber should in all cases be (as stated before) very slight, and so far as his experiments do show anything, they incline towards the further flattening of the camber in the end portions of the aerofoil. it must not be forgotten that a flat-surfaced aerofoil, constructed as it is of more or less elastic materials, assumes a natural camber, more or less, when driven horizontally through the air. reference has been made to a reversal of the-- § . =centre of pressure on arched surfaces.=--wilbur wright in his explanation of this reversal says: "this phenomenon is due to the fact that at small angles the wind strikes the forward part of the aerofoil surface on the upper side instead of the lower, and thus this part altogether ceases to lift, instead of being the most effective part of all." the whole question hangs on the value of the critical angle at which this reversal takes place; some experiments made by mr. m.b. sellers in (published in "flight," may , ) place this angle between ° and °. this angle is much above that used in model aeroplanes, as well as in actual full-sized machines. but the equilibrium of the model might be upset, not by a change of attitude on its part, but on that of the wind, or both combined. by giving (as already advised) the aerofoil a high aspect ratio we limit the travel of the centre of pressure, for a high aspect ratio means, as we have seen, a short chord; and this is an additional reason for making the aspect ratio as high as practically possible. the question is, is the critical angle really as high as mr. seller's experiments would show. further experiments are much needed. footnotes: [ ] nevertheless some models with a very low aspect ratio make good flyers, owing to their extreme lightness. chapter vii. materials for aeroplane construction. § . the choice of materials for model aeroplane construction is more or less limited, if the best results are to be obtained. the lightness absolutely essential to success necessitates--in addition to skilful building and best disposition of the materials--materials of no undue weight relative to their strength, of great elasticity, and especially of great resilience (capacity to absorb shock without injury). § . =bamboo.=--bamboo has per pound weight a greater resilience than any other suitable substance (silk and rubber are obviously useless as parts of the _framework_ of an aeroplane). on full-sized machines the difficulty of making sufficiently strong connections and a liability to split, in the larger sizes, are sufficient reasons for its not being made more use of; but it makes an almost ideal material for model construction. the best part to use (split out from the centrepiece) is the strip of tough wood immediately below the hard glazed surface. for struts, spars, and ribs it can be used in this manner, and for the long strut supporting the rubber motor an entire tube piece should be used of the requisite strength required; for an ordinary rubber motor (one yard long), to strands, this should be a piece / in. in diameter, and weight about / oz. per ft. _bamboo may be bent_ by either the "dry" heat from a spirit lamp or stove, or it may be steamed, the latter for preference, as there is no danger of "scorching" the fibres on the inside of the bend. when bent (as in the case of other woods) it should be bound on to a "former" having a somewhat greater curvature than the curve required, because when cool and dry it will be sure to "go back" slightly. it must be left on the former till quite dry. when bending the "tube" entire, and not split portions thereof, it should be immersed in very hot, or even boiling, water for some time before steaming. the really successful bending of the tube _en bloc_ requires considerable patience and care. bamboo is inclined to split at the ends, and some care is required in making "joints." the ribs can be attached to the spars by lashing them to thin t strips of light metal, such as aluminium. thin thread, or silk, is preferable to very thin wire for lashing purpose, as the latter "gives" too much, and cuts into the fibres of the wood as well. § . =ash=, =spruce=, =whitewood= are woods that are also much used by model makers. many prefer the last named owing to its uniform freedom from knots and ease with which it can be worked. it is stated per cent. additional strength can be imparted by using hot size and allowing it to soak into the wood at an increase only of · per cent. of weight. it is less than half the weight of bamboo, but has a transverse rupture of only , lb. per sq. in. compared to , in the case of bamboo tubing (thickness one-eighth diameter) and a resilience per lb. weight of slightly more than one half. some model makers advocate the use of =poplar= owing to its extreme lightness (about the same as whitewood), but its strength is less in the ratio of about : ; its resilience is very slightly more. it must be remembered that wood of the same kind can differ much as to its strength, etc., owing to what part of the tree it may have been cut from, the manner in which it may have been seasoned, etc. for model aeroplanes all wood used should have been at least a year in seasoning, and should be so treated when in the structure that it cannot absorb moisture. if we take the resilience of ash as , then (according to haswell) relative resilience of beech is · , and spruce · . the strongest of woods has a weight when well seasoned of about lb. per cub. ft. and a tenacity of about , lb. per sq. in. [illustration: fig. a.--"aeroplane alma." a very effective french toy monoplane.] § . =steel.=--ash has a transverse rupture of , lb. per sq. in., steel tubing (thickness = / its diameter) , lb. per sq. in. ash weighs per cub. ft. lb., steel . steel being more than ten times as heavy as ash--but a transverse rupture stress seven times as high. bamboo in tube form, thickness one-third of diameter, has a transverse rupture of , lb. per sq. in., and a weight of lb. per cub. ft. steel then is nine times as heavy as bamboo--and has a transverse rupture stress · times as great. in comparing these three substances it must be carefully borne in mind that lightness and strength are not the only things that have to be provided for in model aeroplane building; there is the question of _resistance_--we must offer as small a cross-section to moving through the air as possible. now while ash or bamboo and certain other timbers may carry a higher load per unit of weight than steel, they will present about three to three and a half times the cross-section, and this produces a serious obstacle, while otherwise meeting certain requirements that are most desirable. steel tubing of sufficiently small bore is not, so far as the writer knows, yet on the market in england. in france very thin steel tubes are made of round, oval, hexagon, etc., shape, and of accurate thickness throughout, the price being about s. a lb. although suitable steel tubing is not yet procurable under ordinary circumstances, umbrella steel is. § . =umbrella section steel= is a section / in. by / in. deep, ft. long weighing · oz., and a section / in. across the base by / in. deep, ft. long weighing · oz. it is often stated that umbrella ribs are too heavy--but this entirely depends on the length you make use of, in lengths of in. for small aerofoils made from such lengths it is so; but in lengths of in. (two such lengths joined together) the writer has used it with great success; often making use of it now in his larger models; the particular size used by him weighs ½ grammes, to a length of in. he has never had one of these aerofoils break or become kinked--thin piano wire is used to stay them and also for spars when employed--the front and ends of the aerofoil are of umbrella steel, the trailing edge of steel wire, comparatively thin, kept taut by steel wire stays. § . =steel wire.=--tensile strength about , lb. per sq. in. for the aerofoil framework of small models and for all purposes of staying, or where a very strong and light tension is required, this substance is invaluable. also for framework of light fabric covered propellers as well as for skids and shock absorber--also for hooks to hold the rubber motor strands, etc. no model is complete without it in some form or another. § . =silk.=--this again is a _sine qua non_. silk is the strongest of all organic substances for certain parts of aeroplane construction. it has, in its best form, a specific gravity of · , and is three times as strong as linen, and twice as strong in the thread as hemp. its finest fibres have a section of from · to · in diameter. it will sustain about , lb. per sq. in. of its cross section; and its suspended fibre should carry about , ft. of its own material. this is six times the same figure for aluminium, and equals about , lb. steel tenacity, and more than is obtained with steel in the form of watch springs or wire. for aerofoil surface no substance can compare with it. but it must be used in the form of an "oiled" or specially treated silk. several such are on the market. hart's "fabric" and "radium" silk are perhaps the best known. silk weighs lb. per cub. ft., steel has, we have seen, lb., thus paying due regard to this and to its very high tensile strength it is superior to even steel wire stays. § . =aluminium and magnalium.=--two substances about which a great deal has been heard in connection with model aeroplaning; but the writer does not recommend their use save in the case of fittings for scale models, not actual flyers, unless especially light ones meant to fly with the wind. neither can compare with steel. steel, it is true, is three times as heavy as aluminium, but it has four or five times its strength; and whereas aluminium and magnalium may with safety be given a permissible breaking strength of per cent. and per cent. respectively, steel can easily be given per cent. being also less in section, resistance to air travel is again less as in the case of wood. in fact, steel scores all round. weight of magnalium : weight of aluminium :: : . § . =alloys.=--during recent years scores, hundreds, possibly thousands of different alloys have been tried and experimented on, but steel still easily holds its own. it is no use a substance being lighter than another volume for volume, it must be _lighter and stronger weight for weight_, to be superior for aeronautical purpose, and if the difference be but slight, question of _bulk_ may decide it as offering _less resistance_. § . =sheet ebonite.=--this substance is sometimes useful for experiments with small propellers, for it can be bent and moulded in hot water, and when cold sets and keeps its shape. _vulcanized fibre_ can be used for same purpose. _sheet celluloid_ can be used in the same way, but in time it becomes brittle and shrinks. _mica_ should be avoided. _jointless cane_ in various sizes is a very useful material--the main aerofoil can be built of it, and it is useful for skids, and might be made more use of than it is.[ ] _three ply wood_, from / in. in thickness, is now on the market. four or five ply wood can also be obtained. to those desiring to build models having wooden aerofoils such woods offer the advantage of great strength and extreme lightness. referring to table v. (timber) at the end of the book, apparently the most suitable wood is lombardy poplar; but its light weight means increased bulk, i.e. additional air resistance. honduras mahogany is really a better all-round wood, and beech is not far behind. resilience is an important factor. ash heads the list; but mahogany's factor is also good, and in other respects superior. lombardy poplar ought to be a very good wood for propellers, owing to its lightness and the ease with which it can be worked. _hollow reeds_, and even _porcupine quills_, have been pressed into the service of the model maker, and owing to their great strength and extreme lightness, more especially the latter, are not without their uses. footnotes: [ ] the chief advantage of cane--its want of stiffness, or facility in bending--is for some parts of the machine its chief disadvantage, where stiffness with resilience is most required. chapter viii. hints on the building of model aeroplanes. § . the chief difficulty in the designing and building of model aeroplanes is to successfully combat the conflicting interests contained therein. weight gives stability, but requires extra supporting surface or a higher speed, i.e. more power, i.e. more weight. inefficiency in one part has a terrible manner of repeating itself; for instance, suppose the aerofoil surface inefficient--badly designed--this means more resistance; more resistance means more power, i.e. weight, i.e. more surface, and so on _ad infinitum_. it is because of circumstances like the above that it is so difficult to _design_ really good and efficient flying models; the actual building of them is not so difficult, but few tools are required, none that are expensive or difficult to use. in the making of any particular model there are special points that require special attention; but there are certain general rules and features which if not adhered to and carefully carried out, or as carefully avoided, will cause endless trouble and failure. § . in constructing a model aeroplane, or, indeed, any piece of aerial apparatus, it is very important not to interrupt the continuity of any rib, tube, spar, etc., by drilling holes or making too thinned down holding places; if such be done, additional strength by binding (with thread, not wire), or by slipping a small piece of slightly larger tube over the other, must be imparted to the apparatus. § . begin by making a simple monoplane, and afterwards as you gain skill and experience proceed to construct more elaborate and scientific models. § . learn to solder--if you do not know how to--it is absolutely essential. § . do not construct models (intended for actual flight) with a tractor screw-main plane in front and tail (behind). avoid them as you would the plague. allusion has already been made in the introduction to the difficulty of getting the centre of gravity sufficiently forward in the case of blériot models; again with the main aerofoil in front, it is this aerofoil and not the balancing elevator, or tail, that _first_ encounters the upsetting gust, and the effect of such a gust acting first on the larger surface is often more than the balancer can rectify in time to avert disaster. the proper place for the propeller is behind, in the wake of the machine. if the screw be in front the backwash from it strikes the machine and has a decidedly retarding action. it is often contended that it drives the air at an increased velocity under (and over) the main aerofoil, and so gives a greater lifting effect. but for proper lifting effect which it can turn without effort into air columns of proper stream line form what the aerofoil requires is undisturbed air--not propeller backwash. the rear of the model is the proper place for the propeller, in the centre of greatest air disturbance; in such a position it will recover a portion of the energy lost in imparting a forward movement to the air, caused by the resistance, the model generally running in such air--the slip of the screw is reduced to a corresponding degree--may even vanish altogether, and what is known as negative slip occur. § . wooden or metal aerofoils are more efficient than fabric covered ones. but they are only satisfactory in the smaller sizes, owing, for one thing, to the smash with which they come to the ground. this being due to the high speed necessary to sustain their weight. for larger-sized models fabric covered aerofoils should be used. § . as to the shape of such, only three need be considered--the (_a_) rectangular, (_b_) the elongated ellipse, (_c_) the chamfered rear edge. [illustration: fig. .--(_a_), (_b_), (_c_).] § . the stretching of the fabric on the aerofoil framework requires considerable care, especially when using silk. it is quite possible, even in models of ft. to ft. spread, to do without "ribs," and still obtain a fairly correct aerocurve, if the material be stretched on in a certain way. it consists in getting a correct longitudinal and transverse tension. we will illustrate it by a simple case. take a piece of thickish steel pianoforte wire, say, in. long, bend it round into a circle, allowing ½ in. to in. to overlap, tin and solder, bind this with soft very thin iron wire, and again solder (always use as little solder as possible). now stitch on to this a piece of nainsook or silk, deforming the circle as you do so until it has the accompanying elliptical shape. the result is one of double curvature; the transverse curve (dihedral angle) can be regulated by cross threads or wires going from a to b and c to d. [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. a.--mr. t.w.k. clarke's oz. model.] the longitudinal curve on the camber can be regulated by the original tension given to it, and by the manner of its fixing to the main framework. suitable wire projections or loops should be bound to it by wire, and these fastened to the main framework by binding with _thin_ rubber cord, a very useful method of fastening, since it acts as an excellent shock absorber, and "gives" when required, and yet possesses quite sufficient practical rigidity. § . flexible joints are an advantage in a biplane; these can be made by fixing wire hooks and eyes to the ends of the "struts," and holding them in position by binding with silk or thread. rigidity is obtained by use of steel wire stays or thin silk cord. [illustration: fig. b.--mr. t.w.k. clarke's oz. model. showing the position of c. of g., or point of support.] § . owing to the extra weight and difficulties of construction on so small a scale it is not desirable to use "double surface" aerofoils except on large size power-driven models. § . it is a good plan not to have the rod or tube carrying the rubber motor connected with the outrigger carrying the elevator, because the torque of the rubber tends to twist the carrying framework, and interferes with the proper and correct action of the elevator. if it be so connected the rod must be stayed with piano wire, both longitudinally (to overcome the pull which we know is very great), and also laterally, to overcome the torque. [illustration: fig. c.--a large model aeroplane. shown without rubber or propellers. designed and constructed by the writer. as a test it was fitted with two in. propellers revolving in the _same_ direction, and made some excellent flights under these conditions, rolling slightly across the wind, but otherwise keeping quite steady. total weight, ½ lb.; length, ft.; span of main aerofoil, ft. constructed of bamboo, cane, and steel wire. front skids steel wire. back skids cane. aerofoil covering nainsook.] § . some builders place the rubber motor above the rod, or bow frame carrying the aerofoils, etc., the idea being that the pull of the rubber distorts the frame in such a manner as to "lift" the elevator, and so cause the machine to rise rapidly in the air. this it does; but the model naturally drops badly at the finish and spoils the effect. it is not a principle that should be copied. [illustration: fig. d.--a very light weight model. constructed by the author. provided with twin propellers of a modified fleming-williams type. this machine flew well when provided with an abnormal amount of rubber, owing to the poor dynamic thrust given by the propellers.] § . in the clarke models with the small front plane, the centre of pressure is slightly in front of the main plane. the balancing point of most models is generally slightly in front, or just within the front edge of the main aerofoil. the best plan is to adjust the rod carrying the rubber motor and propeller until the best balance is obtained, then hang up the machine to ascertain the centre of gravity, and you will have (approximately) the centre of pressure. [illustration: fig. e.--useful fittings for models. . rubber tyred wheels. . ball-bearing steel axle shafts. . brass wire strainers with steel screws; breaking strain lb. . magnalium tubing. . steel eyebolt. . aluminium "t" joint. . aluminium "l" piece. . brass brazed fittings. . ball-bearing thrust. . flat aluminium "l" piece. (_the above illustrations taken (by permission) from messrs. gamage's catalogue on model aviation._)] § . the elevator (or tail) should be of the non-lifting type--in other words, the entire weight should be carried by the main aerofoil or aerofoils; the elevator being used simply as a balancer.[ ] if the machine be so constructed that part of the weight be carried by the elevator, then either it must be large (in proportion) or set up at a large angle to carry it. both mean considerably more resistance--which is to be avoided. in practice this means the propeller being some little distance in rear of the main supporting surface. [illustration: fig. f.--useful fittings for models. . aluminium ball thrust and racket. . ball-bearing propeller, thrust, and stay. (_the above illustrations taken (by permission) from messrs. gamage's catalogue on model aviation._)] § . in actual flying models "skids" should be used and not "wheels"; the latter to be of any real use must be of large diameter, and the weight is prohibitive. skids can be constructed of cane, imitation whalebone, steel watch or clock-spring, steel pianoforte wire. steel mainsprings are better than imitation whalebone, but steel pianoforte wire best of all. for larger sized models bamboo is also suitable, as also ash or strong cane. § . apart from or in conjunction with skids we have what are termed "shock absorbers" to lessen the shock on landing--the same substances can be used--steel wire in the form of a loop is very effectual; whalebone and steel springs have a knack of snapping. these shock absorbers should be so attached as to "give all ways" for a part side and part front landing as well as a direct front landing. for this purpose they should be lashed to the main frame by thin indiarubber cord. § . in the case of a biplane model the "gap" must not be less than the "chord"--preferably greater. in a double monoplane (of the langley type) there is considerable "interference," i.e. the rear plane is moving in air already acted on by the front one, and therefore moving in a downward direction. this means decreased efficiency. it can be overcome, more or less, by varying the dihedral angle at which the two planes are set; but cannot be got rid of altogether, or by placing them far apart. in biplanes not possessing a dihedral angle--the propeller can be placed _slightly_ to one side--in order to neutralise the torque of the propeller--the best portion should be found by experiment--unless the pitch be very large; with a well designed propeller this is not by any means essential. if the propeller revolve clockwise, place it towards the right hand of the machine, and vice versa. § . in designing a model to fly the longest possible distance the monoplane type should be chosen, and when desiring to build one that shall remain the longest time in the air the biplane or triplane type should be adopted.[ ] for the longest possible flight twin propellers revolving in opposite directions[ ] are essential. to take a concrete case--one of the writer's models weighed complete with a single propeller ½ oz. it was then altered and fitted with two propellers (same diameter and weight); this complete with double rubber weighed ¼ oz. the advantage double the power. weight increased only per cent., resistance about per cent., total per cent. gain per cent. or if the method of gearing advocated (see geared motors) be adopted then we shall have four bunches of rubber instead of two, and can thereby obtain so many more turns.[ ] the length of the strands should be such as to render possible at least a thousand turns. the propellers should be of large diameter and pitch (not less than ° at the tips), of curved shape, as advocated in § ch. v.; the aerofoil surface of as high an aspect ratio as possible, and but slight camber if any; this is a very difficult question, the question of camber, and the writer feels bound to admit he has obtained as long flights with surfaces practically flat, but which do, of course, camber slightly in a suitable wind, as with stiffer cambered surfaces. wind cambered surfaces are, however, totally unsuitable in gusty weather, when the wind has frequently a downward trend, which has the effect of cambering the surface the wrong way about, and placing the machine flat on the ground. oiled or specially prepared silk of the lightest kind should be used for surfacing the aerofoils. some form of keel, or fin, is essential to assist in keeping the machine in a straight course, combined with a rudder and universally jointed elevator. the manner of winding up the propellers has already been referred to (_see_ chap. iii., § ). a winder is essential. another form of aerofoil is one of wood (as in clarke's flyers) or metal, such a machine relying more on the swiftness of its flight than on its duration. in this the gearing would possibly not be so advantageous--but experiment alone could decide. the weight of the machine would require to be an absolute minimum, and everything not absolutely essential omitted. it is quite possible to build a twin-screw model on one central stick alone; but the isosceles triangular form of framework, with two propellers at the base corners, and the rubber motors running along the two sides and terminating at the vertex, is preferred by most model makers. it entails, of course, extra weight. a light form of skid, made of steel pianoforte wire, should be used. as to the weight and size of the model, the now famous "one-ouncers" have made some long flights of over yards[ ]; but the machine claiming the record, half a mile,[ ] weighs about oz. and apart from this latter consideration altogether the writer is inclined to think that from oz. to oz. is likely to prove the most suitable. it is not too large to experiment with without difficulty, nor is it so small as to require the skill of a jeweller almost to build the necessary mechanism. the propeller speed has already been discussed (_see_ ch. v., § ). the model will, of course, be flown with the wind. the _total_ length of the model should be at least twice the span of the main aerofoil. footnotes: [ ] this is a good plan--not a rule. good flying models can, of course, be made in which this does not hold. [ ] this is in theory only: in practice the monoplane holds both records. [ ] the best position for the propellers appears to be one in front and one behind, when extreme lightness is the chief thing desired. [ ] because the number of strands of rubber in each bunch will be much less. [ ] mr. burge webb claims a record of yards for one of his. [ ] flying, of course, with the wind. _note._--in the "model engineer" of july , , will be found an interesting account (with illustrations) of mr. w.g. aston's oz. model, which has remained in the air for over a minute. chapter ix. the steering of the model. § . of all the various sections of model aeroplaning that which is the least satisfactory is the above. the torque of the propeller naturally exerts a twisting or tilting effect upon the model as a whole, the effect of which is to cause it to fly in (roughly speaking) a circular course, the direction depending on whether the pitch of the screw be a right or left handed one. there are various devices by which the torque may be (approximately) got rid of. § . in the case of a monoplane, by not placing the rod carrying the rubber motor in the exact centre of the main aerofoil, but slightly to one side, the exact position to be determined by experiment. in a biplane the same result is obtained by keeping the rod in the centre, but placing the bracket carrying the bearing in which the propeller shaft runs at right angles horizontally to the rod to obtain the same effect. § . the most obvious solution of the problem is to use _two_ equal propellers (as in the wright biplane) of equal and opposite pitch, driven by two rubber motors of equal strength. theoretically this idea is perfect. in practice it is not so. it is quite possible, of course, to use two rubber motors of an equal number of strands (equality should be first tested by _weighing_). it should be possible to obtain two propellers of equal and opposite pitch, etc., and it is also possible to give the rubber motors the same number of turns. in practice one is always wound up before the other. this is the first mistake. they should be wound up _at the same time_, using a double winder made for the purpose. the fact that this is _not_ done is quite sufficient to give an unequal torsion. the friction in both cases must also be exactly equal. both propellers must be released at exactly the same instant. supposing _all_ these conditions fulfilled (in practice they never are), supposing also the propellers connected by gearing (prohibitive on account of the weight), and the air quite calm (which it never is), then the machine should and undoubtedly would _fly straight_. for steering purposes by winding up one propeller _many more times_ than the other, the aeroplane can generally speaking be steered to the right or left; but from what i have both seen and tried twin-screw model aeroplanes are _not_ the success they are often made out to be, and they are much more troublesome to deal with, in spite of what some say to the contrary. the solution of the problem of steering by the use of two propellers is only partially satisfactory and reliable, in fact, it is no solution at all.[ ] the torque of the propeller and consequent tilting of the aeroplane is not the only cause at work diverting the machine from its course. § . as it progresses through the air it is constantly meeting air currents of varying velocity and direction, all tending to make the model deviate more or less from its course; the best way, in fact, the only way, to successfully overcome such is by means of _speed_, by giving the aeroplane a high velocity, not of ten or twelve to fifteen miles an hour, as is usual in built up fabric-covered aerofoils, but a velocity of twenty to thirty miles an hour, attainable only in models (petrol or steam driven) or by means of wooden or metal aerofoils. § . amongst devices used for horizontal steering are vertical "fins." these should be placed in the rear above the centre of gravity. they should not be large, and can be made of fabric tightly stretched over a wire frame, or of a piece of sheet magnalium or aluminium, turning on a pivot at the front edge, adjustment being made by simply twisting the fin round to the desired angle. as to the size, think of rudder and the size of a boat, but allow for the difference of medium. the frame carrying the pivot and fin should be made to slide along the rod or backbone of the model in order to find the most efficient position. § . steering may also be attempted by means of little balancing tips, or ailerons, fixed to or near the main aerofoil, and pivoted (either centrally or otherwise) in such a manner that they can be rotated one in one direction (tilted) and the other in the other (dipped), so as to raise one side and depress the other. § . the model can also be steered by giving it a cant to one side by weighting the tip of the aerofoil on that side on which it is desired it should turn, but this method is both clumsy and "weighty." § . another way is by means of the elevator; and this method, since it entails no additional surfaces entailing extra resistance and weight, is perhaps the most satisfactory of all. it is necessary that the elevator be mounted on some kind of universal joint, in order that it may not only be "tipped" or "dipped," but also canted sideways for horizontal steering. § . a vertical fin in the rear, or something in the nature of a "keel," i.e. a vertical fin running down the backbone of the machine, greatly assists this movement. if the model be of the tractor screw and tail (blériot) type, then the above remarks _re_ elevator apply _mutatis mutandis_ to the tail. § . it is of the most vital importance that the propeller torque should be, as far as possible, correctly balanced. this can be tested by balancing the model transversely on a knife edge, winding up the propeller, and allowing it to run down, and adjusting matters until the torque and compensatory apparatus balance. as the torque varies the mean should be used. in the case of twin propellers, suspend the model by its centre of gravity, wind up the propellers, and when running down if the model is drawn forward without rotation the thrust is equal; if not adjustment must be made till it does. the easiest way to do this _may_ be by placing one propeller, the one giving the greater thrust, slightly nearer the centre. in the case of two propellers rotating in opposite directions (by suitable gearing) on the common centre of two axes, one of the axes being, of course, hollow, and turning on the other--the rear propeller working in air already driven back by the other will require a coarser pitch or larger diameter to be equally efficient. footnote: [ ] these remarks apply to rubber driven motors. in the case of two-power driven propellers in which the power was automatically adjusted, say, by a gyroscope as in the case of a torpedo--and the _speed_ of each propeller varied accordingly--the machine could, of course, be easily steered by such means; but the model to carry such power and appliances would certainly weigh from lb. to lb. chapter x. the launching of the model. § . generally speaking, the model should be launched into the air _against the wind_. § . it should (theoretically) be launched into the air with a velocity equal to that with which it flies. if it launch with a velocity in excess of that it becomes at once unstable and has to "settle down" before assuming its normal line of flight. if the velocity be insufficient, it may be unable to "pick up" its requisite velocity in time to prevent its falling to the ground. models with wooden aerofoils and a high aspect ratio designed for swift flying, such as the well-known clarke flyers, require to be practically "hurled" into the air. other fabric-covered models capable of sustentation at a velocity of to miles an hour, may just be "released." § . light "featherweight" models designed for long flights when travelling with the wind should be launched with it. they will not advance into it--if there be anything of a breeze--but, if well designed, just "hover," finally sinking to earth on an even keel. many ingenious pieces of apparatus have been designed to mechanically launch the model into the air. fig. is an illustration of a very simple but effective one. § . for large size power-driven models, unless provided with a chassis and wheels to enable them to run along and rise from the ground under their own power, the launching is a problem of considerable difficulty. § . in the case of rubber-driven models desired to run along and rise from the ground under their own power, this rising must be accomplished quickly and in a short space. a model requiring a ft. run is useless, as the motor would be practically run out by that time. ten or twelve feet is the limit; now, in order to rise quickly the machine must be light and carry considerable surface, or, in other words, its velocity of sustentation must be a low one. [illustration: fig. .--mr. poynter's launching apparatus. (_reproduced by permission from the "model engineer."_)] § . it will not do to tip up the elevator to a large angle to make it rise quickly, because when once off the ground the angle of the elevator is wrong for actual flight and the model will probably turn a somersault and land on its back. i have often seen this happen. if the elevator be set at an increased angle to get it to rise quickly, then what is required is a little mechanical device which sets the elevator at its proper flight angle when it leaves the ground. such a device does not present any great mechanical difficulties; and i leave it to the mechanical ingenuity of my readers to devise a simple little device which shall maintain the elevator at a comparatively large angle while the model is on the ground, but allowing of this angle being reduced when free flight is commenced. § . the propeller most suitable to "get the machine off the ground" is one giving considerable statical thrust. a small propeller of fine pitch quickly starts a machine, but is not, of course, so efficient when the model is in actual flight. a rubber motor is not at all well adapted for the purpose just discussed. § . professor kress uses a polished plank (down which the models slip on cane skids) to launch his models. § . when launching a twin-screw model the model should be held by each propeller, or to speak more correctly, the two brackets holding the bearings in which the propeller shafts run should be held one in each hand in such a way, of course, as to prevent the propellers from revolving. hold the machine vertically downwards, or, if too large for this, allow the nose to rest slightly on the ground; raise (or swing) the machine up into the air until a little more than horizontal position is attained, and boldly push the machine into the air (moving forward if necessary) and release both brackets and screws simultaneously.[ ] § . in launching a model some prefer to allow the propellers to revolve for a few moments (a second, say) _before_ actually launching, contending that this gives a steadier initial flight. this is undoubtedly the case, see note on page . § . in any case, unless trying for a height prize, do not point the nose of the machine right up into the air with the idea that you will thereby obtain a better flight. launch it horizontally, or at a very small angle of inclination. when requiring a model to run along a field or a lawn and rise therefrom this is much facilitated by using a little strip of smooth oilcloth on which it can run. remember that swift flying wooden and metal models require a high initial velocity, particularly if of large size and weight. if thrown steadily and at the proper angle they can scarcely be overthrown. footnote: [ ] another and better way--supposing the model constructed with a central rod, or some suitable holdfast (this should be situated at the centre of gravity of the machine) by which it can be held in one hand--is to hold the machine with both hands above the head, the right hand grasping it ready to launch it, and the left holding the two propellers. release the propellers and allow them a brief interval (about half a second) to start. then launch boldly into the air. the writer has easily launched ½ lb. models by this means, even in a high wind. never launch a model by one hand only. chapter xi. helicopter models. § . there is no difficulty whatever about making successful model helicopters, whatever there may be about full-sized machines. § . the earliest flying models were helicopters. as early as sir george cayley constructed a perfectly successful helicopter model (see ch. iii.); it should be noticed the screws were superimposed and rotated in opposite directions. § . in a mr. phillips constructed a successful power-driven model helicopter. the model was made entirely of metal, and when complete and charged weighed lb. it consisted of a boiler or steam generator and four fans supported between eight arms. the fans had an inclination to the horizon of °, and through the arms the steam rushed on the principle of hero's engines (barker's mill principle probably). by the escape of steam from the arms the fans were caused to revolve with immense energy, so much so that the model rose to an immense altitude and flew across two fields before it alighted. the motive power employed was obtained from the combustion of charcoal, nitre and gypsum, as used in the original fire annihilator; the products of combustion mixing with water in the boiler and forming gas-charged steam, which was delivered at high pressure from the extremities of the eight arms.[ ] this model and its flight (fully authenticated) is full of interest and should not be lost sight of, as in all probability being the first model actuated by steam which actually flew. the helicopter is but a particular phase of the aeroplane. § . the simplest form of helicopter is that in which the torque of the propeller is resisted by a vertical loose fabric plane, so designed as itself to form a propeller, rotating in the opposite direction. these little toys can be bought at any good toy shop from about _d._ to _s._ supposing we desire to construct a helicopter of a more ambitious and scientific character, possessing a vertically rotating propeller or propellers for horizontal propulsion, as well as horizontally rotating propellers for lifting purposes. [illustration: fig. .--incorrect way of arranging screws.] § . there is one essential point that must be carefully attended to, and that is, _that the horizontal propulsive thrust must be in the same plane as the vertical lift_, or the only effect will be to cause our model to turn somersaults. i speak from experience. when the horizontally revolving propellers are driven in a horizontal direction their "lifting" powers will be materially increased, as they will (like an ordinary aeroplane) be advancing on to fresh undisturbed air. § . i have not for ordinary purposes advocated very light weight wire framework fabric-covered screws, but in a case like this where the thrust from the propeller has to be more than the total weight of the machine, these might possibly be used with advantage. § . instead of using two long vertical rods as well as one long horizontal one for the rubber strands, we might dispense with the two vertical ones altogether and use light gearing to turn the torque action through a right angle for the lifting screws, and use three separate horizontal rubber strands for the three propellers on a suitable light horizontal framework. such should result in a considerable saving of weight. [illustration: fig. .--correct manner. a, b, c = screws.] § . the model would require something in the nature of a vertical fin or keel to give the sense of direction. four propellers, two for "lift" and two for "drift," would undoubtedly be a better arrangement. footnote: [ ] report on first exhibition of aeronautical society of great britain, held at crystal palace, june . chapter xii. experimental records. a model flying machine being a scientific invention and not a toy, every devotee to the science should make it his or her business to keep, as far as they are able, accurate and scientific records. for by such means as this, and the making known of the same, can a _science_ of model aeroplaning be finally evolved. the following experimental entry forms, left purposely blank to be filled in by the reader, are intended as suggestions only, and can, of course, be varied at the reader's discretion. when you _have_ obtained carefully established data, do not keep them to yourself, send them along to one of the aeronautical journals. do not think them valueless; if carefully arranged they cannot be that, and may be very valuable. experimental data. form i. column headings: a: model b: weight c: area of supporting surface d: aspect ratio e: average length of flight in feet f: maximum flight g: time of flight, a. average h: m. maximum i: kind and direction of wind j: camber k: angle of inclination of main aerofoil to line of flight -----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+----- a | b | c | d | e | f | g | h | i | j | k -----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+----- | | | | | | a | m | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | -----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+----- form i.--_continued_. column headings: a: model b: weight of (rubber) motor c: kind of rubber, flat, square or round d: lenght in inches and number of strands e: number of turns f: condition at end of flight g: number of propellers (no.) and diameter (diam.) h: number of blades i: disc area (disca.) and pitch (pitch) j: percentage of slip k: thrust l: torque in inche-ounces ----+----+----+-----+----+----+-----+----+-----+----+----+----+ a | b | c | d | e | f | g | h | i | j | k | l | ----+----+----+-----+----+----+-----+----+-----+----+----+----+ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | ----+----+----+-----+----+----+-----+----+-----+----+----+----+ chapter xiii. model flying competitions. § . from time to time flying competitions are arranged for model aeroplanes. sometimes these competitions are entirely open, but more generally they are arranged by local clubs with both closed and open events. no two programmes are probably exactly alike, but the following may be taken as fairly representative:-- . longest flight measured in a straight line (sometimes both with and against the wind).[ ] . stability (both longitudinal and transverse). . longest glide when launched from a given height without power, but with motor and propeller attached. . steering. . greatest height. . the best all-round model, including, in addition to the above, excellence in building. generally so many "points" or marks are given for each test, and the model whose aggregate of points makes the largest total wins the prize; or more than one prize may be offered-- one for the longest flight. one for the swiftest flight over a measured distance. one for the greatest height. one for stability and steering. and one for the best all-round model. the models are divided into classes:-- § . _aero models association's classification, etc._ a. models of sq. ft. surface and under. b. " sq. ft. " " c. " sq. ft. " " d. " sq. ft. " " e. " over sq. ft. all surfaces, whether vertical, horizontal, or otherwise, to be calculated together for the above classification. all round efficiency--marks or points as percentages:-- distance per cent. stability " directional control " gliding angle "[ ] two prizes:-- one for length of flight. one for all-round efficiency (marked as above). every competitor to be allowed three trials in each competition, the best only to count. all flights to be measured in a straight line from the starting to the landing point. repairs may be made during the competition at the direction of the judges.[ ] there are one or two other points where flights are _not_ made with and against the wind. the competitors are usually requested to start their models from within a given circle of (say) six feet diameter, and fly them _in any direction_ they please. "gliding angle" means that the model is allowed to fall from a height (say) of ft. [illustration: fig. .--model designed and constructed by the author for "greatest height." a very lightly built model with a very low aspect ratio, and screw giving a very powerful dynamic thrust, and carrying rather a large amount of rubber. climbs in left-handed spirals.] "directional control," that the model is launched in some specified direction, and must pass as near as possible over some indicated point. the models are practically always launched by hand. § . those who desire to win prizes at such competitions would do well to keep the following points well in mind. . the distance is always measured in a straight line. it is absolutely essential that your model should be capable of flying (approximately) straight. to see, as i have done, model after model fly quite to yards and finish within yards of the starting-point (credited flight yards) is useless, and a severe strain on one's temper and patience. [illustration: fig. .--the gamage challenge cup. open competition for longest flight. crystal palace, july . won by mr. e.w. twining.] [illustration: fig. .--medal won by the author in the same competition.] . always enter more than one model, there nearly always is an entrance fee; never mind the extra shilling or so. go in to win. . it is not necessary that these models should be replicas of one another. on some days a light fabric-covered model might stand the best chance; on another day, a swift flying wooden or metal aerofoil. against the wind the latter have an immense advantage; also if the day be a "gusty" one.[ ] . always make it a point of arriving early on the ground, so that you can make some trial flights beforehand. every ground has its local peculiarities of air currents, etc. . always be ready in time, or you may be disqualified. if you are flying a twin-screw model use a special winder, so that both propellers are wound up at the same time, and take a competent friend with you as assistant. . for all-round efficiency nothing but a good all-round model, which can be absolutely relied on to make a dozen (approximately) equivalent flights, is any good. . in an open distance competition, unless you have a model which you can rely on to make a _minimum_ flight of yards, do not enter unless you know for certain that none of the "crack" flyers will be present. . do not neglect the smallest detail likely to lead to success; be prepared with spare parts, extra rubber, one or two handy tools, wire, thread, etc. before a lecture, that prince of experimentalists, faraday, was always careful to see that the stoppers of all the bottles were loose, so that there should be no delay or mishap. . if the rating of the model be by "weight" ( oz., oz., oz., etc.) and not area, use a model weighing from oz. to a pound. . if there is a greatest height prize, a helicopter model should win it.[ ] (the writer has attained an altitude of between three and four hundred feet with such.) the altitude was arrived at by observation, not guesswork. . it is most important that your model should be able to "land" without damage, and, as far as possible, on an even keel; do not omit some form of "skid" or "shock-absorber" with the idea of saving weight, more especially if your model be a biplane, or the number of flights may be restricted to the number "one." . since the best "gliding" angle and "flying" angle are not the same, being, say, ° in the former case and °- °, say, in the latter, an adjustable angle might in some cases be advantageous. . never turn up at a competition with a model only just finished and practically untested which you have flown only on the morning of the competition, using old rubber and winding to turns; result, a flight of yards, say. arrived on the competition ground you put on new rubber and wind to turns, and expect a flight of a quarter of a mile at least; result yards, _measured in a straight line_ from the starting-point. . directional control is the most difficult problem to overcome with any degree of success under all adverse conditions, and per cent., in the writer's opinion, is far too low a percentage; by directional i include flying in a straight line; personally i would mark for all-round efficiency: (a) distance and stability, per cent.; (b) directional control, per cent.; (c) duration of flight, per cent. in a the competitor would launch his model _in any direction_; in b as directed by the judges. no separate flights required for c. footnotes: [ ] the better way, undoubtedly, is to allow the competitor to choose his direction, the starting "circle" only to be fixed. [ ] or per cent. for duration of flight. [ ] in another competition, held under the rules and regulations of the kite and model aeroplane association for the best all-round model, open to the world, for machines not under sq. ft. of surface, the tests ( marks for each) were:--a. longest flight in a straight line. b. circular flight to the right. c. circular flight to the left. d. stability and landing after a flight. e. excellence in building of the model. [ ] on the assumption that the model will fly straight. [ ] if permitted to enter; if not see fig. . chapter xiv. useful notes, tables, formulÆ, etc. § . comparative velocities. miles per hr. feet per sec. metres per sec. = · = · = = · = · = · = · = · = = · = · = · § . a metre = · inches. _in order to convert_:-- metres into inches multiply by · " feet " · " yards " · " miles " · miles per hour into ft. per min. multiply by · " min. " sec. " · " hr. into kilometres per hr. " · " " metres per sec. " · pounds into grammes multiply by · " kilogrammes " · § . total surface of a cylinder = circumference of base × height + area of base. area of a circle = square of diameter × · . area of a circle = square of rad. × · . area of an ellipse = product of axes × · . circumference of a circle = diameter × · . solidity of a cylinder = height × area of base. area of a circular ring = sum of diameters × difference of diameters × · . for the area of a sector of a circle the rule is:--as : number of degrees in the angle of the sector :: area of the sector : area of circle. to find the area of a segment less than a semicircle:--find the area of the sector which has the same arc, and subtract the area of the triangle formed by the radii and the chord. the areas of corresponding figures are as the squares of corresponding lengths. § . mile = · kilometres. kilometre = yards. oz. = · grammes. lb. = · " lb. = · kilogrammes. lb. = · " lb. = · " lb. = " kilogram = · lb. gram = · lb. sq. in. = sq. millimetres. sq. ft. = · sq. metres. sq. yard = · " sq. metre = · sq. ft. § . one atmosphere = · lb. per sq. in. = lb. per sq. ft. = millimetres of mercury. a column of water · ft. high corresponds to a pressure of lb. per sq. in. h.p. = , ft.-lb. per min. = watts. volts × amperes = watts. {pi} = · . _g_ = · ft. per sec. at london. § . table of equivalent inclinations. rise. angle in degs. in · " · " · " · " · " · " · " · " · " · " · " · " · " · " · " · " {square root} · § . table of skin friction. per sq. ft. for various speeds and surface lengths. -----------------+-------------+-------------+-------------+------------ velocity of wind | ft. plane | ft. plane | ft. plane | ft. plane -----------------+-------------+-------------+-------------+------------ | · | · | · | · | · | · | · | · | · | · | · | · | · | · | · | · | · | · | · | · | · | · | · | · -----------------+-------------+-------------+-------------+------------ this table is based on dr. zahm's experiments and the equation _f_ = · _l_^{- · }_v_^{ · } where _f_ = skin friction per sq. ft.; _l_ = length of surface; _v_ = velocity in feet per second. in a biplane model the head resistance is probably from twelve to fourteen times the skin friction; in a racing monoplane from six to eight times. § . table i.--(metals). --------------+------------+-----------------+------------- material | specific | elasticity e[a] | tenacity | gravity | | per sq. in. --------------+------------+-----------------+------------- magnesium | · | | { , - | | | { , magnalium[b] | · - · | · | aluminium- } | | | copper[c]} | · | | , aluminium | · | · | , iron | · (about)| | , steel | · (about)| | , brass | · - · | | , copper | · | | , mild steel | · | | , | | | --------------+------------+-----------------+------------- [a] e in millions of lb. per sq. in. [b] magnalium is an alloy of magnesium and aluminium. [c] aluminium per cent., copper per cent. (the best percentage), a per cent. alloy thereby doubles the tenacity of pure aluminium with but per cent. increase of density. --------------+------------+-----------------+------------- § . table ii.--wind pressures. _p_ = _kv²_. _k_ coefficient (mean value taken) · (miles per hour) = · ft. per second. _p_ = pressure in lb. per sq. ft. _v_ = velocity of wind. miles per hr. ft. per sec. lb. per sq. ft. · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · § . representing normal pressure on a plane surface by ; pressure on a rod (round section) is · ; on a symmetrical elliptic cross section (axes : ) is · (approx.). similar shape, but axes : , and edges sharpened (_see_ ch. ii., § ), is only · , or / , and for the body of minimum resistance (_see_ ch. ii., § ) about / . § . table iii.--lift and drift. on a well shaped aerocurve or correctly designed cambered surface. aspect ratio · . inclination. ratio lift to drift. ° : · ° : · ° : · ° : · ° : · ° · : · ° · : wind velocity miles per hour. (the above deduced from some experiments of sir hiram maxim.) at a velocity of miles an hour a good aerocurve should lift oz. to oz. per sq. ft. § . table iv.--lift and drift. on a plane aerofoil. n = p( sin {alpha}/ + sin² {alpha}) inclination. ratio lift to drift. ° · : ° · : ° · : ° · : ° · : ° · : ° · : ° · : ° · : ° · : p = _kd_ av² sin {alpha}. a useful formula for a single plane surface. p = pressure supporting the plane in pounds per square foot, _k_ a constant = · in miles per hour, _d_ = the density of the air. a = the area of the plane, v relative velocity of translation through the air, and {alpha} the angle of flight. transposing we have av² = p/( _kd_ sin {alpha}) if p and {alpha} are constants; then av² = a constant or area is inversely as velocity squared. increase of velocity meaning diminished supporting surface (_and so far as supporting surface goes_), diminished resistance and skin friction. it must be remembered, however, that while the work of sustentation diminishes with the speed, the work of penetration varies as the cube of the speed. § . table v.--timber. column headings: a. material b. specific gravity c. weight per cub. ft. in lb. d. strength per sq. in. in lb. e. ultimate breaking load (lb.) span ' x " x " f. relative resilience in bending g. modulus of elasticity in millions of lb. per sq. in. for bending h. relative value. bending strength compared with weight ---------------+-----+-------+-------------+-------+-----+-----+---- a |b | c | d |e |f |g | h ---------------+-----+-------+-------------+-------+-----+-----+---- ash | · | - | , - , | | · | · | · bamboo | | [a]| [ ] | | · | · | beech | · | | , - , | | | · | · birch | · | | , | | | · | · box | · | | , - , | | | | · cork | · | | | | | | fir (norway | | | | | | | spruce) | · | | , - , | | · | · | · american | | | | | | | hickory | | | , | | · | · | · honduras | | | | | | | mahogany | · | | , | | · | · | · maple | · | | , | | | | · american white | | | | | | | pine | · | | , | | · | · | · lombardy poplar| | | , | | · | · | · american yellow| | | | | | | poplar | | | , | | · | · | satinwood | · | | | , | | | · spruce | · | | , | | | | · tubular ash, | | | | | | | _t_ = / _d_ | | | | | · | · | ---------------+-----+-------+-------------+-------+-----+-----+---- _t_ = thickness: _d_ = diameter. [a] given elsewhere as and , (_t_ = / _d_), evidently regarded as solid. § .--=formula connecting the weight lifted in pounds per square foot and the velocity.=--the empirical formula w = (v²c)/_g_ where w = weight lifted in lb. per sq. ft. v = velocity in ft. per sec. c = a constant = · . _g_ = · , or approx. may be used for a thoroughly efficient model. this gives (approximately) lb. per sq. ft. lift at miles an hour. oz. " " " oz. " " " oz. " " " · oz. " " " remember the results work out in feet per second. to convert (approximately) into miles per hour multiply by / . § . =formula connecting models of similar design, but different weights.= d {proportional to} {square root}w. or in models of _similar design_ the distances flown are proportional to the square roots of the weights. (derived from data obtained from clarke's flyers.) for models from oz. to - oz. the formula appears to hold very well. for heavier models it appears to give the heavier model rather too great a distance. since this was deduced a oz. clarke model of somewhat similar design but longer rubber motor has flown ft. at least; it is true the design is not, strictly speaking, similar, but not too much reliance must be placed on the above. the record for a oz. model to date is over yards (with the wind, of course), say ft. in calm air. § . =power and speed.=--the following formula, given by mr. l. blin desbleds, between these is-- w/w{ } = ( _v{ }_)/( _v_) + ¼(_v_/_v{ }_)³. where _v{ }_ = speed of minimum power w{ } = work done at speed _v{ }_. w = work done at speed _v_. making _v_ = _v{ }_, i.e. doubling the speed of minimum power, and substituting, we have finally w = ( - / )w{ } i.e. the speed of an aeroplane can be doubled by using a power - / times as great as the original one. the "speed of minimum power" being the speed at which the aeroplane must travel for the minimum expenditure of power. § . the thrust of the propeller has evidently to balance the aerodynamic resistance = r the head resistance (including skin friction) = s now according to renard's theorem, the power absorbed by r + s is a minimum when s = r/ . having built a model, then, in which the total resistance = ( / )r. this is the thrust which the propeller should be designed to give. now supposing the propeller's efficiency to be per cent., then p--the minimum propulsion power = ( / )r × / × / × _v_. where per cent. is the slip of the screw, _v_ the velocity of the aeroplane. § . =to determine experimentally the static thrust of a propeller.=--useful for models intended to raise themselves from the ground under their own power, and for helicopters. the easiest way to do this is as follows: mount the propeller on the shaft of an electric motor, of sufficient power to give the propeller to revolutions per minute; a suitable accumulator or other source of electric energy will be required, a speedometer or speed counter, also a voltmeter and ammeter. place the motor in a pair of scales or on a suitable spring balance (the former is preferable), the axis of the motor vertical, with the propeller attached. rotate the propeller so that the air current is driven _upwards_. when the correct speed (as indicated by the speed counter) has been attained, notice the difference in the readings if a spring balance be used, or, if a pair of scales, place weights in the scale pan until the downward thrust of the propeller is exactly balanced. this gives you the thrust in ounces or pounds. note carefully the voltage and amperage, supposing it is volts and amperes = watts. remove the propeller and note the volts and amperes consumed to run the motor alone, i.e. to excite itself, and overcome friction and air resistance; suppose this to be volts and amperes = ; the increased load when the propeller is on is therefore - = watts. all this increased power is not, however, expended on the propeller. the lost power in the motor increases as c²r. r = resistance of armature and c = current. if we deduct per cent. for this then the propeller is actually driven by watts. now watts = h.p. {therefore} / = / h.p. approx. at the observed number of revolutions per minute. § . n.b.--the h.p. required to drive a propeller varies as the cube of the revolutions. _proof._--double the speed of the screw, then it strikes the air twice as hard; it also strikes twice as much air, and the motor has to go twice as fast to do it. § . to compare one model with another the formula weight × velocity (in ft. per sec.)/horse-power is sometimes useful. § . =a horse-power= is , lb. raised one foot in one minute, or lb. one foot in one second. a clockwork spring raised lb. through ½ ft. in seconds. what is its h.p.? lb. through ½ ft. in seconds is lb. " ft. " minute. {therefore} work done is ft.-lb. = / = · h.p. the weight of the spring was ¾ oz. (this is taken from an actual experiment), i.e. this motor develops power at the rate of · h.p. for ½ seconds only. § . =to ascertain the h.p. of a rubber motor.= supposing a propeller wound up to turns to run down in seconds, i.e. at a mean speed of revolutions per minute or per second. suppose the mean thrust to be oz., and let the pitch of the propeller be foot. then the number of foot-pounds of energy developed = ( oz. × revols. × ft. (pitch)) / oz. = ft.-lb. per minute. but the rubber motor runs down in seconds. {therefore} energy really developed is = ( × ) / = · ft.-lb. the motor develops power at rate of / = · h.p., but for seconds only. § . =foot-pounds of energy in a given weight of rubber= (experimental determination of). length of rubber yds. weight " - / oz. number of turns = . oz. were raised ft. in seconds. i.e. ¾ lb. was raised × ft. in minute. i.e. lb. was raised × × ft. in minute. = ft. in minute. i.e. ft.-lb. of energy per minute. but actual time was seconds. {therefore} actual energy developed by - / oz. of rubber of yards, i.e. strands yard each at turns is = / ft.-lb. = ¼ ft.-lb. this allows nothing for friction or turning the axle on which the cord was wound. ball bearings were used; but the rubber was not new and twenty turns were still unwound at the end of the experiment. now allowing for friction, etc. being the same as on an actual model, we can take ¾ of a ft.-lb. for the unwound amount and estimate the total energy as ft.-lb. as a minimum. the energy actually developed being at the rate of · h.p., or / of a h.p. if supposed uniform. § . the actual energy derivable from lb. weight of rubber is stated to be ft.-lb. on this basis - / oz. should be capable of giving · ft.-lb. of energy, i.e. three times the amount given above. now the motor-rubber not lubricated was only given turns--lubricated could have been given it, probably before rupture--and the energy then derivable would certainly have been approximating to ft.-lb., i.e. · . now on the basis of ft.-lb. per lb. a weight of ½ oz. (the amount of rubber carried in "one-ouncers") gives ft.-lb. of energy. now assuming the gliding angle (including weight of propellers) to be in ; a perfectly efficient model should be capable of flying eight times as great a distance in a horizontal direction as the energy in the rubber motor would lift it vertically. now ft.-lb. of energy will lift oz. ft. therefore theoretically it will drive it a distance (in yards) of ( × )/ = · yards. now the greatest distance that a oz. model has flown in perfectly calm air (which never exists) is not known. flying with the wind yards is claimed. admitting this what allowance shall we make for the wind; supposing we deduct half this, viz. yards. then, on this assumption, the efficiency of this "one ouncer" works out (in perfectly still air) at per cent. the gliding angle assumption of in is rather a high one, possibly too high; all the writer desires to show is the method of working out. mr. t.w.k. clarke informs me that in his one-ouncers the gliding angle is about in . § . =to test different motors or different powers of the same kind of motor.=--test them on the same machine, and do not use different motors or different powers on different machines. § . =efficiency of a model.=--the efficiency of a model depends on the weight carried per h.p. § . =efficiency of design.=--the efficiency of some particular design depends on the amount of supporting surface necessary at a given speed. § . =naphtha engines=, that is, engines made on the principle of the steam engine, but which use a light spirit of petrol or similar agent in their generator instead of water with the same amount of heat, will develop twice as much energy as in the case of the ordinary steam engine. § .=petrol motors.= horse-power. no. of cylinders. weight. ¼ single ½ lb. ½ to ¾ " ½ " ½ double " § . =the horse-power of model petrol motors.=--formula for rating of the above. (r.p.m. = revolutions per minute.) h.p. = ((bore)² × stroke × no. of cylinders × r.p.m.)/ , if the right-hand side of the equation gives a less h.p. than that stated for some particular motor, then it follows that the h.p. of the motor has been over-estimated. [illustration: fig. .] § a. =relation between static thrust of propeller and total weight of model.=--the thrust should be approx. = ¼ of the weight. § . =how to find the height of an inaccessible object by means of three observations taken on the ground (supposed flat) in the same straight line.=--let a, c, b be the angular elevations of the object d, as seen from these points, taken in the same straight line. let the distances b c, c a and a b be _a_, _b_, _c_ respectively. and let required height p d = _h_; then by trigonometry we have (see fig. ) _h²_ = _abc_/(_a_ cot²a - _c_ cot²c + _b_ cot²b). § . =formula= for calculating the i.h.p. (indicated horse-power) of a single-cylinder double-acting steam-engine. indicated h.p. means the h.p. actually exerted by the steam in the cylinder without taking into account engine friction. brake h.p. or effective h.p. is the actual h.p. delivered by the crank shaft of the engine. i.h.p. = ( × s × r × a × p)/ , . where s = stroke in feet. r = revolutions per minute. a = area of piston in inches. p = mean pressure in lb. exerted per sq. in. on the piston. the only difficulty is the mean effective pressure; this can be found approximately by the following rule and accompanying table. table vi. ---------+----------+---------+----------+---------+--------- cut-off | constant | cut-off | constant | cut-off | constant ---------+----------+---------+----------+---------+--------- / | · | / | · | / | · / | · | · | · | · | · / | · | / | · | / | · · | · | · | · | · | · / | · | / | · | / | · ---------+----------+---------+----------+---------+--------- rule.--"add · to gauge pressure of boiler, this giving 'absolute steam pressure,' multiply this sum by the number opposite the fraction representing the point of cut-off in the cylinder in accompanying table. subtract from the product and multiply the remainder by · . the result will be very nearly the m.e.p." (r.m. de vignier.) footnote: [ ] given elsewhere as and , (_t_ = / _d_), evidently regarded as solid. appendix a. some models which have won medals at open competitions. [illustration: fig. .--the g.p.b. smith model.] the model shown in fig. has won more competition medals than any other. it is a thoroughly well designed[ ] and well constructed model. originally a very slow flyer, the design has been simplified, and although by no means a fast flyer, its speed has been much accelerated. originally a one-propeller machine, it has latterly been fitted with twin propellers, with the idea of obtaining more directional control; but in the writer's opinion, speaking from personal observation, with but little, if any, success. the steering of the model is effected by canting the elevator. originally the machine had ailerons for the purpose, but these were removed owing, i understand, to their retarding the speed of the machine. in every competition in which this machine has been entered it has always gained very high marks for stability. [illustration: fig. .--the gordon-jones dihedral biplane.] up to the time of writing it has not been provided with anything in the nature of fins or rudder. fig. is a biplane very much after the type of the model just alluded to, but the one straight and one curved aerofoil surfaces are here replaced by two parallel aerofoils set on a dihedral angle. the large size of the propeller should be noted; with this the writer is in complete agreement. he has not unfortunately seen this model in actual flight. the scientifically designed and beautifully made models illustrated in fig. are so well known that any remarks on them appear superfluous. their efficiency, so far as their supporting area goes, is of the highest, as much as oz. per square foot having been carried. [illustration: fig. .--messrs. t.w.k. clarke and co.'s model flyers.] for illustrations, etc., of the fleming-williams model, _see_ ch. v., § . (fig. .) this is another well-constructed and efficient model, the shape and character of the aerofoil surfaces much resembling those of the french toy monoplane al-ma (see § , ch. vii.), but they are supported and held in position by quite a different method, a neat little device enabling the front plane to become partly detached on collision with any obstacle. the model is provided with a keel (below the centre of gravity), and rudder for steering; in fact, this machine especially claims certainty of directional control. the writer has seen a number of flights by this model, but it experiences, like other models, the greatest difficulty in keeping straight if the conditions be adverse. the model which will do this is, in his opinion, yet to be evolved. the small size of the propellers is, of course, in total disagreement with the author's ideas. all the same, the model is in many respects an excellent one, and has flown over yards at the time of writing. [illustration: fig. .--the ding sayers monoplane.] more than a year ago the author made a number of models with triangular-shaped aerofoils, using umbrella ribs for the leading edge and steel piano wire for the trailing, but has latterly used aerofoils of the elongated ellipse shape. fig. is an illustration of one of the author's latest models which won a bronze medal at the long distance open competition, held at the crystal palace on july , , the largest and most keenly contested competition held up to that date. the best and straightest flight against the wind was made by this model. on the morning of the competition a flight of about yards (measured in a straight line) was made on mitcham common, the model being launched against the wind so as to gain altitude, and then flying away with the breeze behind the writer. duration of flight seconds. the following are the chief particulars of the model:--weight, ½ oz. area of supporting surface, - / sq. ft. total length, ft. span of main aerofoil, in. aspect ratio, : . diameter of propeller, in. two strand geared rubber motor, carrying altogether strands of / square rubber cord in. long. the propeller was originally a venna, but with the weight reduced by one-third, and considerable alteration made in its central contours. the front skid of steel pianoforte wire, the rear of jointless cane wire tipped; the rear skid was a necessity in order to protect the delicate gearing mechanism, the weight of which was reduced to a minimum. [illustration: fig. .--the author's "grasshopper" model.] the very large diameter of the propeller should be noted, being per cent. of the span. the fin, high above the centre of gravity, was so placed for transverse stability and direction. at the rear of the fin was a rudder. the small amount of rubber carried (for a long distance machine) should also be noted, especially when allowing for friction in gearing, etc. the central rod was a penny bamboo cane, the large aerofoil of jointless cane and hart's fabric, and the front aerofoil of steel wire surfaced with the same material. london: printed by william clowes and sons, limited, great windmill street, w., and duke street, stamford street, s.e. footnote: [ ] the design is patented. _october, _ a short list of scientific books published and sold by e. & f.n. spon, limited, haymarket, london, s.w. sole english agents for the books of-- myron c. clark, new york the business code company, chicago spon & chamberlain, new york page aeronautics agriculture architecture artillery bridges and roofs building cement and concrete civil engineering dictionaries domestic economy drawing electrical engineering foreign exchange gas and oil engines gas lighting historical; biographical horology hydraulics industrial chemistry irrigation logarithm tables manufactures marine engineering materials mathematics mechanical engineering metallurgy metric tables mineralogy and mining municipal engineering naval architecture organisation physics price books railway engineering sanitation structural design telegraph codes warming; ventilation water supply workshop practice useful tables miscellaneous _full particulars post free on application. all books are bound in cloth unless otherwise stated._ _note: the prices in this catalogue apply to books sold in the united kingdom only._ aeronautics =the atmosphere=: its characteristics and dynamics. by f.j.b. cordeiro. with illus. pp. medium vo. 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(_ _) =sugar, a handbook for planters and refiners.= by the late j.a. r. newlands and b.e.r. newlands. illus. pp. demy vo. (_london, _) _net_ =hops=, their cultivation, commerce and uses. by p.l. simmonds. pp. crown vo. (_ _) =the future of cocoa-planting=. by h. hamel smith. with illustrations, pp. crown vo, sewed. (_ _) _net_ =estate fences=, their choice, construction and cost. by a. vernon. re-issue, illus. pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ architecture and building. =the hydropathic establishment and its baths.= by r.o. allsop. plates, pp. demy vo. (_ _) =the turkish bath=, its design and construction. by r.o. allsop. illus. pp. demy vo. (_ _) =public abattoirs=, their planning, design and equipment. by r.s. ayling. plates, pp. demy to. (_ _) _net_ =the builder's clerk.= by t. bales. second edition, pp. fcap. vo. (_ _) =glossary of technical terms= used in architecture and the building trades. by g.j. burns. pp. crown vo. (_ _) =chimney design and theory.= by w.w. christie. second edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =approximate estimates.= by t.e. coleman. third edition, pp. oblong mo, leather. (_ _) _net_ =stable sanitation and construction.= by t.e. coleman. illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =architectural examples= in brick, stone, wood and iron. by w. fullerton. third edition, plates, pp. demy to. (_ _) _net_ =bricklaying system.= by f.b. gilbreth. fully illustrated, pp. vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =field system.= by f.b. gilbreth. pp. mo leather. (_new york, _) _net_ =the building trades pocket book.= compiled by r. hall. mo. with interchangeable diary _net_ ditto ditto, in leather _net_ =the clerk of works' vade mecum.= by g.g. hoskins. seventh edition, pp. fcap. vo. (_ _) =a handbook of formulæ, tables, and memoranda=, for architectural surveyors and others engaged in building. by j.t. hurst. fifteenth edition, pp. royal mo, roan. (_ _) _net_ =quantity surveying=, for the use of surveyors, architects, engineers and builders. by j. leaning. fifth edition, pp. demy vo. (_ _) _net_ =obstruction to light.= a graphic method of determining problems of ancient lights. by h.b. molesworth. folding plates, to. (_ _) _net_ =suburban houses.= a series of practical plans. by j.h. pearson. plates and pp. text, crown to. (_ _) _net_ =solid bitumens=, their physical and chemical properties and chemical analysis. by s.f. peckham. illus. pp. vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =roman architecture, sculpture and ornament.= by g.b. piranesi. plates, reproduced in facsimile from the original. vols. imperial folio, in wrappers. (_ _) _net_ =the seven periods of english architecture=, defined and illustrated. by e. sharpe. third edition, steel plates, royal vo. (_ _) =our factories, workshops and warehouses=, their sanitary and fire-resisting arrangements. by b.h. thwaite. illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) =elementary principles of carpentry.= by t. tredgold and j.t. hurst. eleventh edition, plates, pp. crown vo. (_ _) =practical stair building and handrailing.= by w.h. wood. plates, pp. crown to. (_ _) =spons' architects' and builders' pocket price-book=, memoranda, tables and prices. edited by clyde young. revised by stanford m. brooks. illustrated, pp. mo, leather cloth (size ½ in. by ¾ in. by ½ in. thick). issued annually _net_ =heating engineers' quantities.= by w.l. white and g.m. white. plates, pp. folio. (_ _) _net_ artillery. =guns and gun making material.= by g. ede. crown vo. (_ _) =treatise on application of wire to construction of ordnance.= by j.a. longridge. pp. vo. (_ _) =the progress of artillery: naval guns.= by j.a. longridge. vo, sewed. (_ _) =the field gun of the future.= by j.a. longridge. vo, sewed. (_ _) bridges, arches, roofs, and structural design. =strains in ironwork.= by henry adams. fourth edition, plates, pp. crown vo. (_ _) =the practical designing of structural ironwork.= by henry adams. plates, pp. vo. (_ _) =designing ironwork.= by henry adams. second series. vo, sewed. part i. a steel box girder. (_ _) _net_ " ii. built-up steel stanchions. (_ _) _net_ " iii. cisterns and tanks. (_ _) _net_ " iv. a fireproof floor. (_ _) _net_ =a practical treatise on segmental and elliptical oblique or skew arches.= by g.j. bell. second edition, plates, pp. royal vo. (_ _) _net_ =economics of construction in relation to framed structures.= by r.h. bow. third thousand, plates, pp. vo. ( ) =theory of voussoir arches.= by prof. w. cain. third edition, pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =new formulæ for the loads and deflections= of solid beams and girders. by w. donaldson. second edition, vo. (_ _) =plate girder railway bridges.= by m. fitzmaurice. plates, pp. vo. (_ _) =pocket book of calculations in stresses.= by e.m. george. illus. pp. royal mo, half roan. (_ _) =strains on braced iron arches= and arched iron bridges. by a.s. heaford. pp. vo. (_ _) =tables for roof framing.= by g.d. inskip. second edition, pp. vo, leather. (_new york, _) _net_ =stresses in girder and roof frames,= for both dead and live loads, by simple multiplication, etc. by f.r. johnson. plates, pp. crown vo. (_ _) =a graphical method for swing bridges.= by b.f. la rue. plates, pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =notes on cylinder bridge piers= and the well system of foundations. by j. newman. pp. vo. (_ _) =a new method of graphic statics= applied in the construction of wrought iron girders. by e. olander. plates, small folio. (_ _) =reference book for statical calculations.= by f. ruff. with diagrams, pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =the strength and proportion of riveted joints.= by b.b. stoney. pp. vo. (_ _) =the anatomy of bridgework.= by w.h. thorpe. illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ cement and concrete. =portland cement:= its manufacture, testing and use. by d.b. butler. second edition, illus. pp. demy vo. (_ _) _net_ =theory of steel-concrete arches= and of vaulted structures. by w. cain. fourth edition, illus. pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =cement users' and buyers' guide.= by calcare. pp. mo, cloth. (_ _) _net_ =diagrams for designing reinforced concrete structures.= by g.f. dodge. illus. pp. oblong folio. (_new york, _) _net_ =cements, mortars, and concretes;= their physical properties. by m.s. falk. illus. pp. vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =concrete construction, methods and cost.= by h.p. gillette and c.s. hill. illus. pp. vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =engineers' pocket-book of reinforced concrete.= by e.l. heidenreich. illus. pp. crown vo, leather, gilt edges. (_new york, _) _net_ =concrete inspection.= by c.s. hill. illustrated, pp. mo. (_new york, _) _net_ =reinforced concrete.= by e. mcculloch. illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =concrete and reinforced concrete.= by h.a. reid. illus. pp. royal vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =theory and design of reinforced concrete arches.= by a. reuterdahl. illus. pp. vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =practical cement testing.= by w.p. taylor. with illus. pp. demy vo. (new york, ) _net_ =concrete bridges and culverts.= by h.g. tyrrell. illus. pp. crown vo, leather _net_ civil engineering. canals, surveying. (_see also_ irrigation _and_ water supply.) =practical hints to young engineers employed on indian railways.= by a.w.c. addis. with illus. pp. mo. (_ _) _net_ =levelling,= barometric, trigonometric and spirit. by i.o. baker. second edition, illus. pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) .. _net_ =notes on instruments= best suited for engineering field work in india and the colonies. by w.g. bligh. illus. pp. vo. (_ _) =the sextant and other reflecting mathematical instruments.= by f.r. brainard. illus. pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =practical designing of retaining walls.= by prof. w. cain. fifth edition, illus. pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =the maintenance of macadamised roads.= by t. codrington. second edition, pp. vo. (_ _) =retaining walls in theory and practice.= by t.e. coleman. illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =the barometrical determination of heights.= by f.j.b. cordeiro. crown vo, limp leather. (_new york, _) _net_ =on curved masonry dams.= by w.b. coventry. vo, sewed. (_ _) =a practical method of determining the profile of a masonry dam.= by w.b. coventry. vo, sewed. (_ _) =the stresses on masonry dams= (oblique sections). by w.b. coventry. vo, sewed. (_ _) =tables for facilitating the calculation of earthworks.= by d. cunningham. pp. royal vo =handbook of cost data for contractors and engineers.= by h.p. gillette. pp. crown vo, leather, gilt edges. (_new york, _) _net_ =rock excavation, methods and cost.= by h.p. gillette. illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =high masonry dams.= by e.s. gould. with illus. pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =grace's tables for curves,= with hints to young engineers. figures, pp. oblong vo. (_ _) _net_ =grace's earthwork tables.= double-page tables, to. (_ _) _net_ =railway tunnelling= in heavy ground. by c. gripper. plates, pp. royal vo. (_ _) =levelling and its general application.= by t. holloway. second edition, illus. pp. vo. (_ _) =waterways and water transport= in different countries. by j.s. jeans. illus. pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ =table of barometrical heights to , feet.= by w.h. mackesy, with some practical suggestions by sir guildford molesworth. plate, pp. royal mo. (_ _) =aid book to engineering enterprise.= by e. matheson. third edition, illustrated, pp. medium vo, buckram. (_ _) =a treatise on surveying.= by r.e. middleton and o. chadwick. second edition, royal vo. part i. plates, pp. (_ _) " ii. fully illustrated, pp. (_ _) =a pocket book of useful formulæ and memoranda,= for civil and mechanical engineers. by sir g.l. molesworth and h.b. molesworth. with an electrical supplement by w.h. molesworth. twenty-sixth edition, illus. pp. royal mo, french morocco, gilt edges. (_ _) _net_ =the pocket books of sir g.l. molesworth and j.t. hurst,= printed on india paper and bound in one vol. royal mo, russia, gilt edges. _net_ =metallic structures: corrosion and fouling and their prevention.= by j. newman. illustrated, pp. crown vo. (_ _) =scamping tricks and odd knowledge= occasionally practised upon public works. by j. newman. new impression, pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =earthwork slips and subsidences= on public works. by j. newman. pp. crown vo. (_ _) =co-ordinate geometry= as applied to land surveying. by w. pilkington. illus. pp. mo. (_ _) _net_ =diagrams for the graphic calculation of earthwork quantities.= by a.h. roberts. ten cards, fcap. in cloth case _net_ =pioneering.= by f. shelford, illustrated. pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =topographical surveying.= by g.j. specht. second edition, plates and illus. pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =spons' dictionary of engineering,= civil, mechanical, military and naval. , illus. pp. super royal vo. (_ , supplement issued in _). complete with supplement, in divisions _net_ ditto ditto in vols. _net_ =surveying and levelling instruments.= by w.f. stanley. third edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) =surveyor's handbook.= by t.u. taylor. illus. pp. crown vo, leather, gilt edges. (_new york, _) _net_ =logarithmic land measurement.= by j. wallace. pp. royal vo. (_ _) _net_ =hints on levelling operations.= by w.h. wells. second edition, vo, sewed. (_ _) _net_ =the drainage of fens and low lands= by gravitation and steam power. by w.h. wheeler. plates, pp. vo. (_ _) =stadia surveying,= the theory of stadia measurements. by a. winslow. fifth edition, pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =handbook on tacheometrical surveying.= by c. xydis. illus. plates, pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ dictionaries. =technological dictionary in the english, spanish, german and french languages.= by d. carlos huelin y arssu. crown vo. vol. i. english-spanish-german-french. pp. (_ _) _net_ vol. ii. german-english-french-spanish. pp. (_ _) _net_ vol. iii. french-german-spanish-english. in preparation. vol. iv. spanish-french-english-german. pp. (_ _) _net_ =english-french and french-english dictionary of the motor-car, cycle and boat.= by f. lucas. pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =spanish-english dictionary of mining terms.= by f. lucas. pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ =english-russian and russian-english engineering dictionary.= by l. meycliar. pp. mo. (_ _) _net_ =reed's polyglot guide to the marine engine,= in english, french, german and norsk. second edition, oblong vo. (_ _). _net_ domestic economy. =food adulteration and its detection.= by j.p. battershall. plates, pp. demy vo. (_new york, _) =how to check electricity bills.= by s.w. borden. illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =practical hints on taking a house.= by h.p. boulnois. pp. mo. (_ _) =the cooking range,= its failings and remedies. by f. dye. pp. fcap. vo, sewed. (_ _) =the kitchen boiler and water pipes.= by h. grimshaw. vo, sewed. (_ _) _net_ =cookery and domestic management,= including economic and middle class practical cookery. by k. mellish. coloured plates and illus. pp. super-royal vo. (_ _) _net_ =spons' household manual.= illus. pp. demy vo. (_ _) ditto ditto half-bound french morocco =handbook of sanitary information= for householders. by r.s. tracy. illus. pp. mo. (_new york, _) drawing. =the ornamental penman's,= engraver's and sign writer's pocket book of alphabets. by b. alexander. oblong mo, sewed =the draughtsman's handbook= of plan and map drawing. by g.g. andre. illus. and plain and coloured plates, pp. crown to. (_ _) =slide valve diagrams:= a french method for their construction. by l. bankson. mo, boards. (_new york, _) . . . _net_ =a system of easy lettering.= by j.h. cromwell. with supplement by g. martin. sixth thousand, oblong vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =plane geometrical drawing.= by r.c. fawdry. illustrated, pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =twelve plates on projection drawing.= by o. gueth. oblong to. (_new york, _) _net_ =hints on architectural draughtsmanship.= by g.w.t. hallatt. fourth edition, pp. mo. (_ _) _net_ =a first course of mechanical drawing= (tracing). by g. halliday. oblong to, sewed =drawings for medium-sized repetition work.= by r.d. spinney. with illus. pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ =mathematical drawing instruments.= by w.f. stanley. seventh edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) electrical engineering. =practical electric bell fitting.= by f.c. allsop. tenth edition, illus. including folding plates, pp. crown vo. (_ _) =telephones:= their construction and fitting. by f.c. allsop. eighth edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) =thermo-electric reactions= and currents between metals in fused salts. by t. andrews. vo, sewed. (_ _) =auto-transformer design.= by a.h. avery. illus. pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ =principles of electric power= (continuous current) for mechanical engineers. by a.h. bate. illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) (finsbury technical manual) _net_ =practical construction of electric tramways.= by william r. bowker. illus. pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ =design and construction of induction coils.= by a.f. collins. illus. pp. demy vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =switchboard measuring instruments= for continuous and polyphase currents. by j.c. connan. illus. pp. vo, cloth. (_ _) _net_ =electric cables, their construction and cost.= by d. coyle and f.j. o. howe. with many diagrams and tables, pp. crown vo, leather. (_ _) _net_ =management of electrical machinery.= by f.b. crocker and s.s. wheeler. eighth edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =electric lighting:= a practical exposition of the art. by f.b. crocker. royal vo. (_new york._) vol. i. =the generating plant.= sixth edition, illus. pp. (_ _) _net_ vol. ii. =distributing systems and lamps.= second edition, illus. pp. (_ _) _net_ =the care and management of ignition accumulators.= by h.h.u. cross. illus. pp. crown vo, limp. (s. & c. series, no. .) (_ _) _net_ =elementary telegraphy and telephony.= by arthur crotch. illus. pp. vo. (_ ._) (finsbury technical manual) _net_ =electricity and magnetism in telephone maintenance.= by g.w. cummings. illus. pp. vo. (_new york, _) . .. _net_ =grouping of electric cells.= by w.f. dunton. illus. pp. fcap. vo. ( ) _net_ magnets and electric currents. by prof. j.a. fleming. second edition, illus. pp. crown vo (_ _) _net_ =notes on design of small dynamo.= by george halliday. second edition, plates, vo. (_ _) =practical alternating currents and power transmission.= by n. harrison. illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) =making wireless outfits.= by n. harrison. illus. pp. crown vo, limp. (s. & c. series, no. .) (_new york, _) _net_ =wireless telephone construction.= by n. harrison. illus. pp. crown vo, limp. (s. & c. series, no. .) (_new york, _) _net_ =the phoenix fire office rules= for electric light and electrical power installations. by m. heaphy. thirty-seventh edition, vo, sewed. (_ _) =testing telegraph cables.= by colonel v. hoskioer. third edition, crown vo. (_ _) =long distance electric power transmission.= by r.w. hutchinson. illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =theory and practice of electric wiring.= by w.s. ibbetson. illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =practical electrical engineering for elementary students.= by w.s. ibbetson. with illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =general rules recommended for wiring= for the supply of electrical energy. issued by the institution of electrical engineers. vo, sewed. (_revised, april _) _net_ =form of model general conditions= recommended by the institution of electrical engineers for use in connection with electrical contracts. vo, sewed. (_ _) _net_ =a handbook of electrical testing.= by h.r. kempe. seventh edition, illus. pp. demy vo. (_ _) _net_ =application of electricity to railway working.= by w.e. langdon. illus. and plates, pp. vo. (_ _) =how to become a competent motorman.= by v.b. livermore and j. williams. illus. pp. mo. (_new york, _) _net_ =electromagnets,= their design and construction. by a.n. mansfield. illus. pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =telephone construction, methods and cost.= by c. mayer. with appendices on the cost of materials and labour by j.c. slippy. illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =induction coils.= by n.h. schneider. second edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =electric gas lighting.= by n.h. schneider. illus. pp. mo. (s. & c. series, no. .) (_new york, _) _net_ =how to install electric bells, annunciators and alarms.= by n.h. schneider. illus. pp. crown vo, limp. (s. & c. series, no. .) (_new york, _) _net_ =modern primary batteries,= their construction, use and maintenance. by n.h. schneider. illus. pp. crown vo, limp. (s. & c. series, no. .) (_new york, _) _net_ =practical engineers' handbook on the care and management of electric power plants.= by n.h. schneider. illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =electrical circuits and diagrams,= illustrated and explained. by n.h. schneider. vo, limp. (s. & c. series, nos. and .) (_new york_) part . illus. pp. (_ _) _net_ part . pp. (_ _) _net_ =electrical instruments and testing.= by n.h. schneider. third edition. illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =experimenting with induction coils.= by n.h. schneider. illus. pp. crown vo, limp. (s. & c. series, no. .) (_new york, _) _net_ =study of electricity for beginners.= by n.h. schneider. illus. pp. crown vo, limp. (s. & c. series, no. .) (_new york, _) _net_ =practical electrics:= a universal handybook on every day electrical matters. seventh edition, illus. pp. vo. (s. & c. series, no. .) (_new york, _) _net_ =the voltaic accumulator:= an elementary treatise. by e. reynier. translated from the french by j.a. berly. illus. pp. vo =dry batteries:= how to make and use them. by a dry battery expert. with additional notes by n.h. schneider. illus. pp. crown vo, sewed. (s. & c. series, no. .) (_new york, _) _net_ =the diseases of electrical machinery.= by e. schulz. edited, with a preface, by prof. s.p. thompson. illus. pp. crown vo _net_ =electric toy-making.= by t.o. sloane. fifteenth edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =electricity simplified.= by t.o. sloane. tenth edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =how to become a successful electrician.= by t.o. sloane. third edition, illustrated, crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =electricity:= its theory, sources and applications. by j.t. sprague. third edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =telegraphic connections.= by c. thom and w.h. jones. plates, pp. oblong vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =röntgen rays= and phenomena of the anode and cathode. by e.p. thompson and w.a. anthony. illus. pp. vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =dynamo electric machinery.= by prof. s.p. thompson. seventh edition, demy vo. (finsbury technical manual.) vol. i. =continuous-current machinery.= with coloured and folding plates, illus. pp. (_ _) _net_ vol. ii. =alternating current machinery.= coloured and folding plates, illus. pp. (_ _) _net_ =design of dynamos= (continuous currents). by prof. s.p. thompson. coloured and folding plates, pp. demy vo. (_ _) _net_ =schedule for dynamo design,= issued with the above. _d_. each, _s_. per doz., or _s_. per _net_ =curves of magnetic data for various materials.= a reprint on transparent paper for office use of plate l from dynamo electric machinery, and measuring in. by in. _net_ =the electromagnet.= by c.r. underhill. illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =practical guide to the testing of insulated wires and cables.= by h.l. webb. fifth edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ foreign exchange. =english prices with russian equivalents= (at fourteen rates of exchange). english prices per lb., with equivalents in roubles and kopecks per pood. by a. adiassewich. pp. fcap. mo, roan. (_ _) _net_ =english prices with german equivalents= (at seven rates of exchange). english prices per lb., with equivalents in marks per kilogramme. by st. koczorowski. pp. fcap. mo, roan. (_ _) _net_ =english prices with spanish equivalents.= at seven rates of exchange. english prices per lb., with equivalents in pesetas per kilogramme. by s. lambert. pp. mo, roan. (_ _) _net_ =english prices with french equivalents= (at seven rates of exchange). english prices per lb. to francs per kilogramme. by h.p. mccartney. pp. mo, roan. (_ _) _net_ =principles of foreign exchange.= by e. matheson. fourth edition, pp. vo, sewed. (_ _) _net_ gas and oil engines. =the theory of the gas engine.= by d. clerk. edited by f.e. idell. third edition, illus. pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =the design and construction of oil engines.= by a.h. goldingham. third edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =gas engine in principle and practice.= by a.h. goldingham. illus. pp. vo, cloth. (_new york, _) _net_ =practical hand-book on the care and management of gas engines.= by g. lieckfeld. third edition, square mo. (_new york, _) =elements of gas engine design.= by s.a. moss. pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =gas and petroleum engines.= a manual for students and engineers. (finsbury technical manual.) by prof. w. robinson. _third edition in preparation_ gas lighting. =gas analyst's manual= (incorporating hartley's "gas analyst's manual" and "gas measurement"). by j. abady. illustrations, pp. demy vo. (_ _) _net_ =gas works:= their arrangement, construction, plant and machinery. by f. colyer. folding plates, pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ =transactions of the institution of gas engineers.= edited by walter t. dunn, _secretary_. published annually. vo _net_ =lighting by acetylene.= by f. dye. illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =a comparison of the english and french methods of ascertaining the illuminating power of coal gas.= by a.j. van eijndhoven. illustrated, crown vo. (_ _) =gas lighting and gas fitting.= by w.p. gerhard. second edition, pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =a treatise on the comparative commercial values of gas coals and cannels.= by d.a. graham. plates, pp. vo. (_ _) =the gas engineer's laboratory handbook.= by j. hornby. third edition, revised, illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ historical and biographical. =extracts from the private letters of the late sir william fothergill cooke,= - , relating to the invention and development of the electric telegraph; also a memoir by latimer clark. edited by f.h. webb. sec. inst.e.e. vo. (_ _) =a chronology of inland navigation= in great britain. by h.r. de salis. crown vo. ( ) =a history of electric telegraphy= to the year . by j.j. fahie. illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) =history and development of steam locomotion on common roads.= by w. fletcher. illus. pp. vo =life as an engineer:= its lights, shades, and prospects. by j.w.c. haldane. plates, pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =philipp reis,= inventor of the telephone: a biographical sketch. by prof. s.p. thompson. vo, cloth. (_ _) =the development of the mercurial air pump.= by prof. s.p. thompson. illustrated, royal vo, sewed. (_ _) horology. =watch and clock maker's handbook,= dictionary and guide. by f.j. britten. tenth edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =the springing and adjusting of watches.= by f.j. britten. illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =prize essay on the balance spring= and its isochronal adjustments. by m. immisch. illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) hydraulics and hydraulic machinery. (_see also_ water supply.) =pumps:= historically, theoretically and practically considered. by p.r. bjÖrling. second edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) =pump details.= by p.r. bjÖrling. illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) =pumps and pump motors:= a manual for the use of hydraulic engineers. by p.r. bjÖrling. two vols. plates, pp. royal to. (_ _). _net_ =practical handbook on pump construction.= by p.r. bjÖrling. second edition, plates, pp. crown vo. (_ _) =water or hydraulic motors.= by p.r. bjÖrling. illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) =hydraulic machinery,= with an introduction to hydraulics. by r.g. blaine. second edition with illus. pp. vo. (finsbury technical manual). (_ _) _net_ =practical hydraulics.= by t. box. fifteenth edition, plates, pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =hydraulic, steam, and hand power lifting and pressing machinery.= by f. colyer. second edition, plates, pp. imperial vo. (_ _) _net_ =pumps and pumping machinery.= by f. colyer. vol. i. second edition, plates, pp. vo (_ _) _net_ vol. ii. second edition, plates, pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ =construction of horizontal and vertical water-wheels.= by w. cullen. second edition, small to. (_ _) =donaldson's poncelet turbine= and water pressure engine and pump. by w. donaldson. to. (_ _) =principles of construction and efficiency of water-wheels.= by w. donaldson. illus. pp. vo. (_ _) =practical hydrostatics and hydrostatic formulæ.= by e.s. gould. illus. pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =hydraulic and other tables= for purposes of sewerage and water supply. by t. hennell. third edition, pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =hydraulic tables= for finding the mean velocity and discharge in open channels. by t. higham. second edition, pp. super-royal vo. (_ _) =tables for calculating the discharge of water= in pipes for water and power supplies. indexed at side for ready reference. by a.e. silk. pp. crown vo. (_ _) =simple hydraulic formulæ.= by t.w. stone. plates, pp. crown vo. (_ _) industrial chemistry and manufactures. =perfumes and their preparation.= by g.w. askinson. translated from the third german edition by i. fuest. third edition, illus. pp. vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =brewing calculations,= gauging and tabulation. by c.h. bater. pp. mo, roan, gilt edges. (_ _) _net_ =a pocket book for chemists,= chemical manufacturers, metallurgists, dyers, distillers, etc. by t. bayley. seventh edition, pp. royal mo, roan, gilt edges. (_ _) _net_ =practical receipts= for the manufacturer, the mechanic, and for home use. by dr. h.r. berkeley and w.m. walker. pp. demy vo. (_ _) _net_ =a treatise on the manufacture of soap and candles,= lubricants and glycerine. by w.l. carpenter and h. leask. second edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) =a text book of paper making.= by c.f. cross and e.j. bevan. third edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =c.b.s. standard units and standard paper tests.= by c.f. cross, e.j. bevan, c. beadle and r.w. sindall. pp. crown to. (_ _) _net_ =soda fountain requisites.= a practical receipt book for druggists, chemists, etc. by g.h. dubelle. third edition, pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =the chemistry of fire= and fire prevention. by h. and h. ingle. illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) =ice-making machines.= by m. ledoux and others. sixth edition. pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =brewing with raw grain.= by t.w. lovibond. pp. crown vo. ( ) =sugar, a handbook for planters and refiners.= by the late j.a.r. newlands and b.e.r. newlands. illus. pp. demy vo. (_london, _) _net_ =principles of leather manufacture.= by prof. h.r. procter. illus. pp. medium vo. (_ _) _net_ =leather industries laboratory handbook= of analytical and experimental methods. by h.r. procter. second edition, plates, illus. pp. demy vo. (_ _) _net_ =theoretical and practical ammonia refrigeration.= by i.i. redwood. sixth thousand, illus. pp. square mo. (_new york, _) _net_ =breweries and maltings.= by g. scammell and f. colyer. second edition, plates, pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ =factory glazes for ceramic engineers.= by h. rum-bellow. folio. series a, leadless sanitary glazes. (_ _) _net_ =text book of physical chemistry.= by c.l. speyers. pp. demy vo. (_new york, _) =spons' encyclopædia of the industrial arts,= manufactures and commercial products. illus. pp. super-royal vo. (_ _) in vols. cloth _net_ =pigments, paints and painting.= by g. terry. illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) =tables for the quantitative estimation of the sugars.= by e. wein and w. frew. crown vo. (_ _) =workshop receipts.= for the use of manufacturers, mechanics and scientific amateurs. new and thoroughly revised edition, crown vo. (_ _) each _each net_ vol. i. acetylene lighting _to_ drying. illus. pp. vol. ii. dyeing _to_ japanning. illus. pp. vol. iii. jointing pipes _to_ pumps. illus. pp. vol. iv. rainwater separators _to_ wines. illus. pp. =practical handbook on the distillation of alcohol from farm products.= by f.b. wright. second edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) ... ... _net_ =the manufacture of chocolate= and other cacao preparations. by p. zipperer. second edition, illus. pp. royal vo. (_ _) _net_ irrigation. =the irrigation works of india.= by r.b. buckley. second edition, with coloured maps and plans. pp. to, cloth. (_ _) _net_ =facts, figures, and formulæ for irrigation engineers.= by r.b. buckley. with illus. pp. large vo. (_ _) _net_ =irrigated india.= by hon. alfred deakin. with map, pp. vo. (_ _) =indian storage reservoirs,= with earthen dams. by w.l. strange. plates and illus. pp. demy vo. (_ _) _net_ =irrigation farming.= by l.m. wilcox. revised edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york_) _net_ =egyptian irrigation.= by sir w. willcocks. second edition out of print. _a few copies of the first edition (_ _) are still to be had. price s. net._ =the nile reservoir dam at assuan,= and after. by sir _w. willcocks._ second edition, plates, super-royal vo. (_ _) _net_ =the assuan reservoir and lake moeris.= by sir w. willcocks. with text in english, french and arabic. plates, pp. super-royal vo. (_ _) _net_ =the nile in .= by sir w. willcocks. plates, pp. super-royal vo. (_ _) _net_ logarithm tables. =aldum's pocket folding mathematical tables.= four-figure logarithms, and anti-logarithms, natural sines, tangents, cotangents, cosines, chords and radians for all angles from to degrees. on folding card. _net_ _d._ copies, _net_ _s._ =tables of seven-figure logarithms= of the natural numbers from to , . by c. babbage. stereotype edition, vo =short logarithmic= and other tables. by w.c. unwin. fourth edition, small to =logarithmic land measurement.= by j. wallace. pp. royal vo. (_ _) _net_ =a.b.c. five-figure logarithms with tables, for chemists.= by c.j. woodward. crown vo _net_ =a.b.c. five-figure logarithms= for general use, with lateral index for ready reference. by c.j. woodward. second edition, with cut lateral index, pp. mo, limp leather _net_ marine engineering and naval architecture. =marine propellers.= by s.w. barnaby. fifth edition, plates, illus. pp. demy vo. (_ _) _net_ =marine engineer's record book:= engines. by b.c. bartley. vo, roan _net_ =the engineer's and draughtsman's data book= for workshop and office use. third edition, crown vo, roan =yachting hints,= tables and memoranda. by a.c. franklin. waistcoat pocket size, pp. mo, roan, gilt edges _net_ =steamship coefficients, speeds and powers.= by c.f.a. fyfe. plates, pp. fcap. vo, leather. (_ _) _net_ =steamships and their machinery,= from first to last. by j.w.c. haldane. illus. pp. vo. (_ _) =tables for constructing ships' lines.= by a. hogg. second edition, vo =submarine boats.= by g.w. hovgaard. plates, pp. crown vo. (_ _) =tabulated weights= of angle, tee, bulb, round, square, and flat iron and steel for the use of naval architects, ship-builders, etc. by c.h. jordan. sixth edition, pp. royal mo, french morocco, gilt edges. (_ _) _net_ =particulars of dry docks,= wet docks, wharves, etc. on the river thames. compiled by c.h. jordan. second edition, coloured charts, pp. oblong vo. (_ _) _net_ =marine transport of petroleum.= by h. little. illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) =questions and answers for marine engineers,= with a practical treatise on breakdowns at sea. by t. lucas. folding plates, pp. gilt edges, crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =reed's examination papers for extra first class engineers=. fourth edition, plates and illus. pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ =reed's engineers' handbook to the board of trade examinations= for certificates of competency as first and second class engineers. nineteenth edition, plates, illus. pp. vo _net_ =reed's marine boilers.= second edition, crown vo _net_ =reed's useful hints to sea-going engineers.= fourth edition, plates, illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ materials. =practical treatise on the strength of materials.= by t. box. fourth edition, plates, pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ =treatise on the origin, progress, prevention and cure of dry rot in timber.= by t.a. britton. plates, pp. crown vo. (_ _) =twenty years' practical experience of natural asphalt= and mineral bitumen. by w.h. delano. illus. pp. crown vo, parchment. (_ _) =stone:= how to get it and how to use it. by major-gen. c.e. luard, r.e. vo, sewed. (_ _) =testing of pipes= and pipe-joints in the open trenches. by m.m. paterson. vo, sewed (_ _) =solid bitumens.= by s.f. peckham. illus. pp. vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =lubricants, oils and greases.= by i.i. redwood. plates, vo. (_ _) _net_ =practical treatise on mineral oils= and their by-products. by i.i. redwood. illus. pp. demy vo. (_ _) =silico-calcareous sandstones,= or building stones from quartz, sand and lime. by e. stoffler. plates, vo, sewed. (_ _) _net_ =proceedings of the fifth congress, international association for testing materials.= english edition. illus. pp. demy vo. (_ _). paper _net_ cloth _net_ mathematics. =imaginary quantities.= by m. argand. translated by prof. hardy. mo, boards. (_new york_) _net_ =text book of practical solid geometry.= by e.h. de v. atkinson. revised by major b.r. ward, r.e. second edition, plates, vo. (_ _) =quick and easy methods of calculating,= and the theory and use of the slide rule. by r.g. blaine. third edition, illus. pp. mo, leather cloth. (_ _) =symbolic algebra,= or the algebra of algebraic numbers. by w. cain. mo, boards. (_new york_) _net_ =nautical astronomy.= by j.h. colvin. pp. crown, vo. (_ _) _net_ =chemical problems.= by j.c. foye. fourth edition, pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =primer of the calculus.= by e.s. gould. second edition, illus. pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =elementary treatise on the calculus= for engineering students. by j. graham. third edition, pp. crown vo. (_ _). (finsbury technical manual) =manual of the slide rule.= by f.a. halsey. second edition, illus. pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =reform in chemical and physical calculations.= by c.j.t. hanssen. to. (_ _) _net_ =algebra self-taught.= by p. higgs. third edition, pp. crown vo. (_ _) =galvanic circuit investigated mathematically.= by g.s. ohm. translated by william francis. pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =elementary practical mathematics.= by m.t. ormsby. pp. demy vo. (_ _) _net_ =elements of graphic statics.= by k. von ott. translated by g.s. clarke. illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) =figure of the earth.= by f.c. roberts. mo, boards. (_new york_) _net_ =arithmetic of electricity.= by t. o'c. sloane. thirteenth edition, crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =graphic method for solving certain questions in arithmetic or algebra.= by g.l. vose. second edition with illus. pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =problems in electricity.= a graduated collection comprising all branches of electrical science. by r. weber. translated from the french by e.a. o'keefe. illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _). _net_ mechanical engineering. steam engines and boilers, etc. =handbook for mechanical engineers.= by hy. adams. fourth edition, pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =appleby's handbooks of machinery.= many illustrations, vo. sections , , and _each_ section section .--prime movers. _out of print._ section .--hoisting machinery, winding engines, etc. section .--_out of print._ section .--machine tools and accessories. section .--contractors' plant and railway materials. section .--mining, colonial and manufacturing machinery. =engineers' sketch book of mechanical movements.= by t.w. barber. fifth edition, illus. pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ =the repair and maintenance of machinery.= by t.w. barber. illus. pp. vo. (_ _) =slide valve and its functions=, with special reference to modern practice in the united states. by j. begtrup. diagrams, pp. medium vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =practical treatise on mill gearing.= by t. box. fifth edition, plates, pp. crown vo. (_ _) =safety valves.= by r.h. buell. third edition, illus. pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =machine design.= by prof. w.l. cathcart. part i. fastenings. illus. pp. demy vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =chimney design and theory.= by w.w. christie. second edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =furnace draft:= its production by mechanical methods. by w.w. christie. illus. pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =working and management of steam boilers and engines.= by f. colyer. second edition, pp. crown vo. (_ _) =the stokers' catechism.= by w.j. connor. pp. limp cloth. (_ _) _net_ =treatise on the use of belting for the transmission of power.= by j.h. cooper. fifth edition, illus. pp. demy vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =the steam engine considered as a thermodynamic machine.= by j.h. cotterill. third edition, diagrams, pp. vo. (_ _) =fireman's guide=, a handbook on the care of boilers. by k.p. dahlstrom. ninth edition fcap. vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =heat for engineers.= by c.r. darling. illus. pp. vo. (_ ._) (finsbury technical manual.) _net_ =diseases of a gasolene automobile=, and how to cure them. by a.l. dyke and g.p. dorris. illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =belt driving.= by g. halliday. folding plates, pp. vo. (_ _) =worm and spiral gearing.= by f.a. halsey. plates, pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =commercial efficiency of steam boilers.= by a. hanssen. large vo, sewed. ( ) =corliss engine.= by j.t. henthorn. third edition, illus. pp. square mo. (s. & c. series, no. .) (_new york, _) _net_ =liquid fuel= for mechanical and industrial purposes. by e.a. brayley hodgetts. illus. pp. vo. (_ _) =elementary text-book on steam engines and boilers.= by j.h. kinealy. fourth edition, illus. pp. vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =centrifugal fans.= by j.h. kinealy. illus. pp. fcap. vo, leather. (_new york, _) _net_ =mechanical draft.= by j.h. kinealy. original tables and plates, pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =the a.b.c. of the steam engine=, with a description of the automatic governor. by j.p. lisk. plates, mo. (s. & c. series, no. .) (_new york, _) _net_ =valve setting record book.= by p.a. low. vo, boards. =the lay-out of corliss valve gears.= by s.a. moss. second edition, plates, pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =steam boilers=, their management and working. by j. peattie. fifth edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =treatise on the richards steam engine indicator.= by c.t. porter. sixth edition, plates and diagrams, pp. vo. (_ _) =practical treatise on the steam engine.= by a. rigg. second edition, plates, pp. demy to. (_ _) =power and its transmission.= a practical handbook for the factory and works manager. by t.a. smith. pp. fcap. vo. (_ _) _net_ =drawings for medium sized repetition work.= by r.d. spinney. with illus. pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ =slide valve simply explained.= by w.j. tennant. revised by j.h. kinealy. illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =shaft governors.= by w. trinks and c. hoosum. illus. pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =slide and piston valve geared steam engines.= by w.h. uhland. plates and illus. pp. two vols. folio, half morocco. (_ _) =how to run engines and boilers.= by e.p. watson. fifth edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) =position diagram of cylinder with meyer cut-off.= by w.h. weightman. on card. (_new york_) _net_ =practical method of designing slide valve gearing.= by e.j. welch. diagrams, pp. crown vo. (_ _) =elements of mechanics.= by t.w. wright. eighth edition, illustrated, pp. vo. (_new york, _) _net_ metallurgy. iron and steel manufacture. =life of railway axles.= by t. andrews. vo, sewed. (_ _) =microscopic internal flaws in steel rails and propeller shafts.= by t. andrews. vo, sewed. (_ _) =microscopic internal flaws, inducing fracture in steel.= by t. andrews. vo, sewed. (_ _) =relations between the effects of stresses= slowly applied and of stresses suddenly applied in the case of iron and steel: comparative tests with notched and plain bars. by p. breuil. plates and illus. pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ =brassfounders' alloys.= by j.f. buchanan. illustrated, pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =foundry nomenclature.= the moulder's pocket dictionary and concise guide to foundry practice. by john f. buchanan. illustrated, pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =american standard specifications for steel.= by a.l. colby. second edition, revised, pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =galvanised iron=: its manufacture and uses. by j. davies. pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ =management of steel.= by g. ede. seventh edition, pp. crown vo. (_ _) =galvanising and tinning=, with a special chapter on tinning grey iron castings. by w.t. flanders. vo. (_new york_) _net_ =cupola furnace.= a practical treatise on the construction and management of foundry cupolas. by e. kirk. third edition, illus. pp. demy vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =practical notes on pipe founding.= by j.w. macfarlane. plates, pp. vo =atlas of designs concerning blast furnace practice.= by m.a. pavloff. plates, in. by ½ in. oblong, sewed. (_ _) _net_ =album of drawings relating to the manufacture of open hearth steel.= by m.a. pavloff. part i. open hearth furnaces. plates, in. by ½ in. oblong folio in portfolio. (_ _) _net_ =metallography applied to siderurgic products.= by h. savoia. translated by r.g. corbet. with illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =modern foundry practice.= including revised subject matter and tables from spretson's "casting and founding." by j. sharp. second edition, illus. pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ =roll turning for sections in steel and iron.= by a. spencer. second edition, plates, to. (_ _) metric tables. =french measure and english equivalents.= by j. brook. second edition, pp. fcap. mo, roan. (_ _) _net_ =a dictionary of metric and other useful measures.= by l. clark. pp. vo. (_ _) =english weights, with their equivalents in kilogrammes per cent.= by f.w.a. logan. pp. fcap. mo, roan. (_ _) _net_ =metric weights with english equivalents.= by h.p. mccartney. pp. fcap. mo. (_ _) _net_ =metric tables.= by sir g.l. molesworth. fourth edition, pp. royal mo. (_ _) _net_ =tables for setting out curves= from metres to metres by tangential angles. by h. williamson. illus. pp. mo. (_ _) _net_ mineralogy and mining. =rock blasting.= by g.g. andre. plates and illus. in text, pp. vo. (_ _) =winding plants for great depth.= by h.c. behr. in two parts. vo, sewed. (_ _) _net_ =practical treatise on hydraulic mining in california.= by a.j. bowie, jun. tenth edition, illus. pp. royal vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =manual of assaying gold, silver, copper and lead ores.= by w.l. brown. twelfth edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =fire assaying.= by e.w. buskett. illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =tin=: describing the chief methods of mining, dressing, etc. by a.g. charleton. plates, pp. crown vo. (_ _) =gold mining and milling= in western australia, with notes upon telluride treatment, costs and mining practice in other fields. by a.g. charleton. illus. and numerous plans and tables, pp. super-royal vo. (_ _) _net_ =miners' geology and prospectors' guide.= by g.a. corder. plates, pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =blasting of rock in mines, quarries, tunnels, etc.= by a.w. and z.w. daw. second edition, illus. pp. demy vo. (_ _) _net_ =handbook of mineralogy=; determination and description of minerals found in the united states. by j.c. foye. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =conversations on mines.= by w. hopton. ninth edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) =our coal resources= at the end of the nineteenth century. by prof. e. hull. pp. demy vo. (_ _) =hydraulic gold miners' manual.= by t.s.g. kirkpatrick. second edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) =economic mining.= by c.g.w. lock. illus. pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ =gold milling=: principles and practice. by c.g.w. lock. illus. pp. demy vo. (_ _) _net_ =mining and ore-dressing machinery.= by c.g.w. lock. illus. pp. super-royal to. (_ _) =miners' pocket book.= by c.g.w. lock. fifth edition, illus. pp. fcap. vo, roan, gilt edges. (_ _) _net_ =tests for ores, minerals and metals of commercial value.= by r.l. mcmechen. pp. mo. (_new york, _) _net_ =practical handbook for the working miner and prospector=, and the mining investor. by j.a. miller. illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) =theory and practice of centrifugal ventilating machines.= by d. murgue. illus. pp. vo. (_ _) =examples of coal mining plant.= by j. povey-harper. second edition, plates, in. by in. (_ _) _net_ =examples of coal mining plant, second series.= by j. povey-harper. plates, in. by in. (_ _) _net_ organisation. accounts, contracts and management. =organisation of gold mining business=, with specimens of the departmental report books and the account books. by nicol brown. second edition, pp. fcap. folio. (_ _) _net_ =manual of engineering specifications= and contracts. by l.m. haupt. eighth edition, pp. vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =depreciation of factories=, municipal, and industrial undertakings, and their valuation. by e. matheson. fourth edition, pp. vo, cloth. (_ _) _net_ =aid book to engineering enterprise.= by e. matheson. third edition, pp. vo, buckram. (_ _) =office management.= a handbook for architects and civil engineers. by w. kaye parry. new impression, pp. medium vo. (_ _) _net_ =commercial organisation of engineering factories.= by h. spencer. illus. pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ physics. colour, heat and experimental science. =the entropy diagram= and its applications. by m.j. boulvin. illus. pp. demy vo. (_ _) =physical problems and their solution.= by a. bourgougnon. pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =heat for engineers.= by c.r. darling. illus. pp. vo. (_ _) (finsbury technical manual) _net_ =the colourist.= a method of determining colour harmony. by j.a.h. hatt. coloured plates, pp. vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =engineering thermodynamics.= by c.f. hirschfeld. illus. pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =experimental science=: elementary, practical and experimental physics. by g.m. hopkins. twenty-third edition, illus. pp. large vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =reform in chemical and physical calculations.= by c.j.t. hanssen. demy to. (_ _) _net_ =introduction to the study of colour phenomena.= by j.w. lovibond. hand coloured plates, pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ =practical laws and data on the condensation of steam in bare pipes=; to which is added a translation of peclet's theory and experiments on the transmission of heat through insulating materials. by c.p. paulding. illus. pp. demy vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =the energy chart.= practical application to reciprocating steam-engines. by captain h.r. sankey. illus. pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ price books. =approximate estimates.= by t.e. coleman. third edition, pp. oblong mo, leather. (_ _) _net_ =railway stores price book.= by w.o. kempthorne. pp. demy vo. (_ _) _net_ =spons' engineers' price book.= a synopsis of current prices and rates for engineering materials and products. edited by t.g. marlow. pp. folio. (_ _) _net_ =spons' architects' and builders' pocket price book=, memoranda, tables and prices. edited by clyde young. revised by stanford m. brooks. illustrated, pp. mo, leather cloth (size ½ in. by ¾ in. by ½ in. thick). issued annually _net_ railway engineering. =practical hints to young engineers employed on indian railways.= by a.w.c. addis. with illus. pp. mo. (_ _) _net_ =railroad curves and earthwork.= by c.f. allen. third edition, plates, pp. mo, leather, gilt edges. (_new york, _) _net_ =field and office tables=, specially applicable to railroads. by c.f. allen. pp. mo, leather. (_new york, _) _net_ _the two above combined in one vol. limp leather_ _net_ =up-to-date air brake catechism.= by r.h. blackall. twenty-third edit. coloured plates, illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =simple and automatic vacuum brakes.= by c. briggs, g.n.r. plates, vo. (_ _) =notes on permanent-way material=, plate-laying, and points and crossings. by w.h. cole. fifth edition, plates, pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =statistical tables of the working of railways= in various countries up to the year . by j.d. diacomidis. second edition, pp. small folio, sewed. (_ _) _net_ =locomotive breakdowns=, emergencies and their remedies. by geo. l. fowler, m.e. and w.w. wood. fifth edition, illus. pp. mo. (_new york, _) _net_ =permanent-way diagrams.= by f.h. frere. mounted on linen in cloth covers. (_ _) _net_ =formulæ for railway crossings and switches.= by j. glover. illus. pp. royal mo. (_ _) =data relating to railway curves and super elevations=, shown graphically. by j.h. haiste. on folding card for pocket use _net_ =setting out of tube railways.= by g.m. halden. plates, illus. pp. crown to. (_ _) _net_ =railway engineering, mechanical and electrical.= by j.w.c. haldane, illus. pp. vo. (_ _) =tables for setting-out railway curves.= by c.p. hogg. a series of cards in neat cloth case =the construction of the modern locomotive.= by g. hughes. illus. pp. vo. (_ _) =practical hints for light railways= at home and abroad. by f.r. johnson. plates, pp. crown vo. (_ _) =handbook on railway stores management.= by w.o. kempthorne. pp. demy vo. (_ _) _net_ =railway stores price book.= by w.o. kempthorne. pp. demy vo. (_ _) _net_ =tables for setting out curves= for railways, roads, canals, etc. by a. kennedy and r.w. hackwood. mo _net_ =railroad location surveys and estimates.= by f. lavis. illus. pp. vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =tables for computing the contents of earthwork= in the cuttings and embankments of railways. by w. macgregor. royal vo =bridge and tunnel centres.= by j.b. mcmasters. illustrated, pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =pioneering.= by f. shelford. illustrated, pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =handbook on railway surveying= for students and junior engineers. by b. stewart. illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =spiral tables.= by j.g. sullivan. pp. mo, leather. (_new york, _) _net_ =modern british locomotives.= by a.t. taylor. diagrams of principal dimensions, pp. oblong vo. (_ _) _net_ =locomotive slide valve setting.= by c.e. tully. illustrated, mo _net_ =the walschaert locomotive valve gear.= by w.w. wood. plates and set of movable cardboard working models of the valves, pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =the westinghouse e.t. air-brake instruction pocket book.= by w.w. wood. illus. including many coloured plates, pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ sanitation, public health and municipal engineering. =sewers and drains for populous districts.= by j.w. adams. ninth edition, illus. pp. vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =public abattoirs=, their planning, design and equipment. by r.s. ayling. plates, pp. demy to. (_ _) _net_ =sewage purification.= by e. bailey-denton. plates, pp. vo. (_ _) =water supply and sewerage of country mansions= and estates. by e. bailey-denton. pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =sewerage and sewage purification.= by m.n. baker. second edition, pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =sewage irrigation by farmers.= by r.w.p. birch. vo, sewed. (_ _) =sanitary house drainage=, its principles and practice. by t.e. coleman. illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) =stable sanitation and construction.= by t.e. coleman. illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) =public institutions=, their engineering, sanitary and other appliances. by f. colyer. pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ =discharge of pipes and culverts.= by p.m. crosthwaite. large folding sheet in case. _net_ =a complete and practical treatise on plumbing and sanitation: hot water supply, warming and ventilation=, steam cooking, gas, electric light, bells, etc., with a complete schedule of prices of plumber's work. by g.b. davis and f. dye. vols. illus. and folding plates, pp. to, cloth. (_ _) _net_ =standard practical plumbing.= by p.j. davies. vol. i. fourth edition, illus. pp. royal vo. (_ _) _net_ vol. ii. second edition, illus. pp. (_ _) _net_ vol. iii. illus. pp. (_ _) _net_ =conservancy, or dry sanitation versus water carriage.= by j. donkin. plates, pp. vo, sewed. (_ _) _net_ =sewage disposal works=, their design and construction. by w.c. easdale. with illus. pp. demy vo. (_ _) _net_ =house drainage and sanitary plumbing.= by w.p. gerhard. tenth edition, illus. pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =engineering work in towns and cities.= by e. mcculloch. illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =the treatment of septic sewage.= by g.w. rafter. pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =reports and investigations on sewer air= and sewer ventilation. by r.h. reeves. vo, sewed. (_ _) =the law and practice of paving= private street works. by w. spinks. fourth edition, pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ structural design. (_see_ bridges and roofs.) telegraph codes. =new business code.= pp. narrow vo. (size ¾ in. by ¾ in. and ½ in. thick, and weight oz.) (_new york, _) _net_ =miners' and smelters' code= (formerly issued as the =master telegraph code=). pp. vo, limp leather, weight oz. (_new york, _) _net_ =billionaire phrase code=, containing over two million sentences coded in single words. pp. vo, leather. (_new york, _) _net_ warming and ventilation. =hot water supply.= by f. dye. fifth edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =a practical treatise upon steam heating.= by f. dye. illus. pp. demy vo. (_ _) _net_ =practical treatise on warming buildings by hot water.= by f. dye. illus. pp. vo. cloth. (_ _) _net_ =charts for low pressure steam heating.= by j.h. kinealy. small folio. (_new york_) =formulæ and tables for heating.= by j.h. kinealy. illus. pp. vo. (_new york, _) =mechanics of ventilation.= by g.w. rafter. second edition, mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =principles of heating.= by w.g. snow. illus. pp. vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =furnace heating.= by w.g. snow. fourth edition, illus. pp. vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =ventilation of buildings.= by w.g. snow and t. nolan. pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =heating engineers' quantities.= by w.l. white and g.m. white. plates, pp. folio. (_ _) _net_ water supply. (_see also_ hydraulics.) =potable water and methods of testing impurities.= by m.n. baker. pp. mo, boards. (_new york, _) _net_ =manual of hydrology.= by n. beardmore. new impression, plates, pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ =boiler waters=, scale, corrosion and fouling. by w.w. christie. illus. pp. vo, cloth. (_new york, _) _net_ =water softening and purification.= by h. collet. second edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =treatise on water supply=, drainage and sanitary appliances of residences. by f. colyer. pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =report on the investigations into the purification of the ohio river water= at louisville, kentucky. by g.w. fuller. plates, to, cloth. (_new york, _) _net_ =purification of public water supplies.= by j.w. hill. pp. vo. (_new york, _) =well boring for water, brine and oil.= by c. isler. _new edition in the press._ =method of measuring liquids flowing through pipes by means of meters of small calibre.= by prof. g. lange. plate, pp. vo, sewed _net_ =on artificial underground water.= by g. richert. illus. pp. vo, sewed. (_ _) _net_ =notes on water supply= in new countries. by f.w. stone. plates, pp. crown vo. (_ _) =the principles of waterworks engineering.= by j.h.t. tudsbery and a.w. brightmore. third edition, folding plates, illus. pp. demy vo. (_ _) _net_ workshop practice. =a handbook for apprenticed machinists.= by o.j. beale. second edition, illus., pp. mo. (_new york, _) _net_ =bicycle repairing.= by s.d.v. burr. sixth edition, illus. pp. vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =practice of hand turning.= by f. campin. third edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) =calculation of change wheels for screw cutting on lathes.= by d. de vries. illus. pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ =milling machines and milling practice.= by d. de vries. with illus. pp. medium vo. (_ _) _net_ =french-polishers' manual.= by a french-polisher. pp. royal mo, sewed. (_ _) _net_ =art of copper smithing.= by j. fuller. third edition, illus. pp. royal vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =saw filing and management of saws.= by r. grimshaw. new edition, illus. mo. (_new york, _) _net_ =paint and colour mixing.= by a.s. jennings. fourth edition. coloured plates, pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ =the mechanician=: a treatise on the construction and manipulation of tools. by c. knight. fifth edition, plates, pp. to. (_ _) =turner's and fitter's pocket book.= by j. la nicca. mo, sewed =tables for engineers and mechanics=, giving the values of the different trains of wheels required to produce screws of any pitch. by lord lindsay. second edition, royal vo, oblong =screw-cutting tables.= by w.a. martin. seventh edition, royal vo, oblong =metal plate work=, its patterns and their geometry, for the use of tin, iron and zinc plate workers. by c.t. millis. fourth edition, diagrams, pp. crown vo. (_ _) =engineers' and general smiths' work.= the smith and forgeman's handbook of practical smithing and forging. by t. moore. illus. pp. crown vo. (_ _) _net_ =modern machine shop construction=, equipment and management. by o.e. perrigo. illus. pp. crown to. (_new york, _) _net_ =turner's handbook on screw-cutting=, coning, etc. by w. price. fcap. vo =introduction to eccentric spiral turning.= by h.c. robinson. plates, illus. pp. vo. (_ _) _net_ =manual of instruction in hard soldering.= by h. rowell. sixth edition, illus. pp. crown vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =pocket book on boilermaking, shipbuilding=, and the steel and iron trades in general. by m.j. sexton. sixth edition, illus. pp. royal mo, roan, gilt edges. (_ _) _net_ =power and its transmission.= a practical handbook for the factory and works manager. by t.a. smith. pp. fcap. vo. (_ _) _net_ =spons' mechanics' own book=: a manual for handicraftsmen and amateurs. sixth edition, illus. pp. demy vo. (_ _) ditto ditto half morocco =spons' workshop receipts for manufacturers, mechanics and scientific amateurs.= new and thoroughly revised edition, crown vo. (_ _) _each net_ vol. i. acetylene lighting _to_ drying. illus. pp. vol. ii. dyeing _to_ japanning. illus. pp. vol. iii. jointing pipes _to_ pumps. illus. pp. vol. iv. rainwater separators _to_ wines. illus. pp. =gauges at a glance.= by t. taylor. second edition, post vo, oblong, with tape converter. (_ _) _net_ =simple soldering=, both hard and soft. by e. thatcher. illus. pp. crown vo, limp. (s. & c. series, no. .) (_new york, _) _net_ =the modern machinist.= by j.t. usher. fifth edition. illus. pp. vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =practical wood carving.= by c.j. woodsend. illus. pp. vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =american tool making= and interchangeable manufacturing. by j.w. woodworth. illus. pp. demy vo. (_new york, _) _net_ useful tables. =weights and measurements of sheet lead.= by j. alexander. mo, roan _net_ =tables of parabolic curves= for the use of railway engineers and others. by g.t. allen. fcap. mo =barlow's tables of squares=, cubes, square roots, cube roots and reciprocals. crown vo =tables of squares.= by e.e. buchanan. ninth edition, mo _net_ =land area tables.= by w. codd. square mo, on a sheet mounted on linen and bound in cloth =tables for setting out curves= from to feet radius. by h.a. cutler and f.j. edge. royal mo _net_ =transition curves.= by w.g. fox. mo, boards. (_new york_) _net_ =tables of some of the principal speeds= occurring in mechanical engineering, expressed in metres per second. by p. keerayeff. mo, sewed =calculating scale.= a substitute for the slide rule. by w. knowles. crown vo, leather _net_ =planimeter areas.= multipliers for various scales. by h.b. molesworth. folding sheet in cloth case. _net_ =tables of seamless copper tubes.= by i. o'toole. pp. oblong fcap. vo. (_ _) _net_ =rownson's iron merchants' tables= and memoranda, weights and measures. pp. mo, leather =spons' tables and memoranda for engineers.= by j.t. hurst, c.e. twelfth edition, pp. mo, roan, gilt edges. (_ _) _net_ ditto ditto in celluloid case _net_ =optical tables and data=, for the use of opticians. by prof. s.p. thompson. second edition, pp. oblong vo. (_ _) _net_ =traverse table=, showing latitudes and departure for each quarter degree of the quadrant, and for distances from to , etc.; mo, boards. _net_ =fifty-four hours' wages calculator.= by h.n. whitelaw. second edition, vo. _net_ =wheel gearing.= tables of pitch line diameters, etc. by a. wildgoose and a.j. orr. pp. fcap. mo. (_ _) _net_ miscellaneous. =time chart.= the time of day at any place in the world at a glance. by dr. f.j.b. cordeiro. on card. _net_ =the atmosphere=: its characteristics and dynamics. by f.j.b. cordeiro. with illus. pp. medium vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =model steam engine design.= by r.m. de vignier. illus. pp. crown vo, limp. (_new york, _) _net_ =popular engineering.= by f. dye. illus. pp. crown to. (_ _) _net_ =the phonograph=, and how to construct it. by w. gillett. folding plates, pp. crown vo. (_ _) =particulars of dry docks=, wet docks, wharves, etc. on the river thames. by c.n. jordan. second edition, coloured charts, pp. oblong vo. (_ _) _net_ =spons' engineer's diary and year book=, issued annually. to. =new theories in astronomy.= by w. stirling. pp. demy vo. (_ _) _net_ =the american hardware store.= a manual of approved methods of arranging and displaying hardware. by r.r. williams. illus. pp. royal vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =practical wood carving.= by c.j. woodsend. illus. pp. vo. (_new york, _) _net_ =inventions, how to protect, sell and buy them.= by f. wright. crown vo, limp. (s. & c. series, no. .) (_new york, _) _net_ [illustration] science abstracts section a.--physics. section b.--engineering. _issued monthly by the_ institution of electrical engineers, with the co-operation of the physical society of london, the american physical society, the american institute of electrical engineers, and the american electro-chemical society. section a.--physics. _annual subscription_, = s.= _net, post-free_. contents:--general physics--light--heat--electricity and magnetism--chemical physics and electro-chemistry. during and over abstracts and references were included under the above headings. section b.--electrical engineering. _annual subscription_, = s.= _net, post-free_. contents:--steam plant, gas and oil engines--industrial electro-chemistry, general electrical engineering, and properties and treatment of materials--generators, motors and transformers--electrical distribution, traction and lighting--telegraphy and telephony. during and over abstracts and references were included under the above headings. _annual subscription for both sections_, = s.= _net, post-free_. _binding cases for all vols. are to be had, price s. each (post-free s. d.)._ e. & f.n. spon, ltd., haymarket, london, s.w. the journal of the iron and steel institute. edited by g.c. lloyd, _secretary_. published half-yearly, vo, cloth, _s._ _net_. the journal of the institution of electrical engineers. edited by p.f. rowell, _secretary_. the proceedings of the institution of municipal and county engineers. edited by thomas cole, assoc. m. inst. c.e. _secretary_. published annually, vo, cloth, _s._ _net_. the transactions of the institution of mining and metallurgy. edited by c. mcdermid, _secretary_. published annually, boards, _s._ _net_, or half-bound, _s._ _net_. transactions of the institution of gas engineers. edited by walter t. dunn, _secretary_. published annually, vo, cloth, _s._ _d._ _net_. proceedings of the international association for testing materials. (english edition.) e. & f.n. spon, ltd., haymarket, london, s.w. london: printed by william clowes and sons, limited. just out the latest the aeroplane portfolio by d. ross kennedy containing nine sheets of scale drawings of the following celebrated aeroplanes. biplane type;--wright, farman, voisin, cody, herring-curtis. monoplanes;--rep, antoinette, santos dumont, and blériot. each of these machines are here shown in end view, plan and elevation. including booklet which contains a description of each machine. this timely set of drawings should prove of value to everyone interested in this important new industry. the complete set mailed to any part of the world postpaid on receipt of _net_ c. spon & chamberlain publishers of technical books - liberty street,--new york [illustration] the percy pierce flyer a famous prize winner a large scale drawing of this famous model, with all measurements and details showing a front elevation, a side elevation and a top plan, with full descriptive matter. anybody can make an =exact duplicate= of this prize winner for himself at small cost. do it now complete set of materials in the rough with drawing and instructions, postpaid, $ . the drawing and instructions c postpaid make your own glider how to make a ft. biplane gliding machine that will carry an ordinary man practicai handbook on the construction of a biplane gliding machine enabling an intelligent reader to make his first step in the field of aviation with a comprehensive understanding of some of the principals involved. by alfred powell morgan. contents of chapters: . the framework, assembling and finishing the wood. . covering the planes, laying out the fabric and fastening it. . trussing, fastening the tie rods and trueing the glider. . gliding flight. the principals involved. instructions and precautions. . remarks. fully illustrated with detail drawings. by mail. in paper, postpaid, c. in handsome cloth binding, postpaid, c. =flying machines, past, present and future.= a popular account of flying machines, dirigible balloons and aeroplanes. describing many different kinds of machines, and their chief feature. by a.w. marshall and henry greenly. pages illustrations and many plates, mo. boards. by mail c. =model flying machines.= their design and construction by w.g. aston. a first rate little book showing numerous methods of propelling models, making propellors, construction of different kinds of models, etc., etc. pages, illustrations. mo. boards, by mail c. =model aeroplanes.= how to build and fly them, by e.w. twining. a set of full-size scale drawings for three different models with descriptive illustrated book explaining how to make and fly them. postpaid : : : : c =no. model.= complete set of parts in the rough to make up this model. (without drawings), postpaid : : c [illustration: no. model] =no. model.= complete set of parts in the rough (without drawings). this makes up into a beautiful little model. postpaid : : : : $ . =model gliders, birds, butterflies and aeroplanes.= how to make and fly them, by e.w. twining. consisting of one large sheet of butterflies and two birds printed in bright colors. one small cardboard model glider with descriptive illustrated book showing how to make and fly them. postpaid : : : : c * * * * * transcriber's notes obvious punctuation and spelling errors and inconsistent hyphenation have been corrected. italic text is denoted by _underscores_ and bold text by =equal signs=. the oe ligature has been replaced by the separate characters. the fractions ¼, ½ and ¾ are represented using the latin- characters, but other fractions use the / and - symbols, e.g. / or - / . the exponents and are represented using ² and ³ respectively, but other exponents are indicated by the caret character, for example, v^{ · } subscripts are simply enclosed in braces, e.g. w{ }. other symbols that cannot be represented have been replaced by words in braces: {alpha}, {pi}, {therefore}, {square root} and {proportional to}. the skin friction formulæ given on pages and have been corrected by comparison with other sources. respectively, the formulæ were originally printed as _f_ = · _l_^{ · }_v_^{ · } and _f_ = · _l_ - ^{ · }_v_^{ · } in ambiguous cases, the text has been left as it appears in the original book. proofreading team at http://www.fadedpage.net jane, stewardess of the air lines jane stewardess of the air lines by ruthe s. wheeler the goldsmith publishing company chicago copyright, the goldsmith publishing company printed in the u.s.a. contents chapter page i graduation night ii opportunity knocks iii adventure ahead iv an emergency case v with flying colors vi westward flight vii crash landing viii winning their wings ix at mrs. murphy's x jane's first call xi an unexpected delay xii alarming news xiii the black plane xiv page one news xv "hello heroine" xvi through the fog xvii an ultimatum to mattie xviii sue plays detective xix needed--one pilot xx down in flames xxi too much action xxii promotion for jane xxiii white madness xxiv dangerous passengers xxv on desperate wings jane, stewardess of the air lines chapter one graduation night jane cameron looked breathlessly around the room where seventeen senior nurses of the good samaritan hospital at university city sat primly awaiting their diplomas. it was graduation night and jane was among the seventeen who had completed all of the requirements for a certificate in nurses' training. delayed half an hour by an emergency case on third floor surgery, jane had just slipped into the room and taken the remaining chair on the end of the line. dr. albert anthony, trim, energetic young head of the staff, was speaking. beside him was the little white stack of diplomas, all of them rolled and tied with blue and white ribbon. doctor anthony's sharp voice was informing the student nurses that they were about to embark on careers of their own. jane smiled a bit grimly. she wondered just what career was ahead of her. the girl next in line turned and a fleeting suggestion of a smile hovered about her lips. she was sue hawley, friend and companion of jane through the long, arduous months of training. "here's hoping he'll tell us where we can get jobs," whispered sue, the words so close-clipped that it was almost impossible to detect her lips moving. jane nodded. that was the one big problem facing most of the girls who were graduating from nurses' training at good samaritan. as for herself, she had no idea what she would be doing after the following noon when she stepped through the doors of the great hospital. doctor anthony finished his speech and the nurses applauded politely. he picked up the diplomas and called the roll of graduates. as her name was called, each girl stepped forward, her stiffly starched skirts swishing, and received the tube of paper. queer shivers chased themselves up and down jane's back. for three years she had been working toward this moment and now that it was at hand she suddenly felt cheated. perhaps it was because she was grasping so desperately for something to do after she left the hospital. sue's name was called and she stepped forward and received her diploma. jane was the last and she walked slowly toward the rostrum. a mist clouded her eyes and her hand shook as she accepted the diploma. it meant cutting loose from the old routine, leaving the firmly established and venturing out alone. jane wouldn't have admitted, even to sue, that she was _scared_, for she was far too proud. then the program was over. parents hastened up to congratulate their daughters and jane and sue drifted away from the others. their homes were in a neighboring state and it had been too far for their own fathers and mothers to make the trip. sue looked down at her diploma. she was slender, blond, with sparkling blue eyes and peach-bloom complexion. "wonder if i'll ever have this framed?" she sighed. "right now i've just exactly $ and i'm not going to send an sos home for money unless i get down to my last penny." "i've a little more," confessed jane, tucking a wisp of wavy, brown hair back under her prim little cap. "to be exact, there's $ . in my purse and i don't want to ask the folks at home for anything if i can help it." jane was a bit taller than sue and her brown eyes matched the color of her hair. they had stuck by each other through all of the tribulations of nurses' training; now, though both hesitated to mention it, each feared that graduation would terminate their close companionship. miss hardy, the supervisor of nurses, broke away from another group and joined them. "drop in at my office before you go to the dorm for the night," she said. before she could explain what she wanted, an intern stepped into the room and called her away on an emergency case. rules had been lifted for graduation night and a kindly theater manager, realizing how little spending money most of the girls had, sent up passes for his show. jane and sue slipped out of the assembly room, diplomas in hand. hurrying to the dormitory on fourth floor back, they changed from their uniforms into street clothes and a few minutes later were on their way down town, the towering bulk of good samaritan with its scores of shaded lights behind them. the show proved entertaining and they passed a pleasant two hours at the theater. on their way home, sue slackened her pace in front of a drug store and looked longingly at the gleaming soda fountain inside. "feel the urge of a chocolate soda?" asked jane, who knew her friend's weakness. "it's practically irresistible," confessed sue. "then let's celebrate. the treat's on me for i'm at least two dollars richer than you." the sodas were delicious and the newly graduated nurses sipped them in luxurious leisure. "my, but it's going to seem good not to have to jump every time a bell clangs," said sue. "i don't know about that. i'm so used to bells i'm afraid i'll miss them just a little bit," jane said. "what do you suppose miss hardy wants?" "maybe it's about a job." "don't worry. if there was anything like that in sight, she'd give it to one of her pets. we'd never have a chance," said sue bitterly. jane and sue had steadfastly refused to court the favor of the supervisor of nurses and as a result many unnecessary little tasks had been heaped on their shoulders. it had been just enough to arouse their determination, and they had finished near the top of the class despite the apparent prejudice of the supervisor. it was nearly midnight when jane and sue pushed open the double doors of good samaritan. only the night lights illumined the halls and the strained quiet which pervades a hospital at night had settled down over the building. the elevator boy had left his post half an hour before and they walked the four flights of stairs to fourth floor back where the nurses lived. most of the girls were in the dormitory and the hall was almost deserted as they neared the office of the supervisor. the door was closed and they knocked discreetly. an irritated, tired voice bade them enter. jane opened the door. miss hardy's cold, blue eyes held little welcome for her visitors as she peered up at them through steel-rimmed spectacles. "you asked us to stop here before we went to bed," sue reminded her. "oh, yes. so i did. it's a pity you couldn't have come in a little earlier." "it isn't often that we have a night off and passes to see a show," replied jane tartly. miss hardy made no comment, but shuffled through a pile of papers at one corner of her desk. she selected a letter and scanned it rapidly. "either one of you girls decided what you'll do when you leave tomorrow?" she asked. "i haven't been able to learn of a single job," said jane, "and sue has been no more successful." "then here is something that might interest you." miss hardy tossed the letter across the desk. jane looked at the letterhead and her eyes blurred. it bore the name of the personnel manager of the federated airways. chapter two opportunity knocks the pulses of the young nurses quickened as they read the letter and they hardly heard miss hardy saying, "of course, i haven't had time to fully investigate this company and it seems a little foolhardy for any young woman of common sense to seek such work." that was typical of miss hardy. she was so conservative that anything new seemed foolish. jane read the letter rapidly and sue, looking over her shoulder, kept pace with her. it was from hubert speidel, personnel manager of federated airways. "my dear miss hardy," the letter began. "for some time federated airways has been considering a plan to improve its service to passengers and to provide even further for their welfare and comfort while they are guests aboard our transport planes. we have come to the conclusion that the addition of a stewardess to our flying crews is essential and at present we are contacting young women who might be interested in this work. our first requirement is that the prospective stewardess be a graduate nurse. hence, this letter is directed to you. "i have consulted a number of eminent physicians and they have highly recommended the nurses' training school of good samaritan hospital for the high calibre of young women who are graduated. i will appreciate your contacting any of the girls who might be interested in joining our air line as stewardesses. on your recommendation, we will provide passage for them to come to chicago where they will undergo the necessary examinations. girls who weigh more than pounds or who are more than five feet four inches tall can not be used." sue looked expectantly at jane when they finished the letter. "well, what do you think of that?" she asked. "i think it's a great opportunity," replied jane. "it's a real chance to get into a new field for girls. air travel is developing rapidly and perhaps we can grow with it." jane handed the letter back to miss hardy. "it seems to me like a very dangerous type of work," the supervisor of nurses said. "i don't think it would be any more dangerous than the everyday things we do. i've noticed advertisements of the federated airways. their planes have flown thirty-five million miles without a fatal injury to a passenger. if i can go that far without getting hurt very seriously, i'll consider myself lucky." "you've always been lucky," retorted miss hardy, as a seldom-seen smile flickered over her face. "i guess both of you have thought me pretty much of a tyrant," she went on, removing the spectacles and smoothing back her straight, grey-streaked hair. "i'll admit i've been unnecessarily harsh with you on occasions, but it was all a part of my system. some day you'll thank me for it for you are the best young nurses good samaritan has turned out in many a year." "but, miss hardy," protested sue, "we thought you had a grudge against us. usually we had all of the mean little things to do." "i know, but i was just testing the kind of spirit you had. you came through fighting a hundred per cent and even now, when i spoke discouragingly of this possible work with the air line, you showed your determination. i am convinced that this is a real opportunity and i should have been greatly disappointed if you had not shown a keen interest in its possibilities." miss hardy's eyes were twinkling and jane and sue were astonished. behind the hard, outer shell of the martinet they had known beamed now a very warm and friendly personality. for the first time in three years they felt they really knew miss hardy and each was a little ashamed of the harsh things they had said about the supervisor. "are you both interested in going to chicago and personally applying for positions with the federated system?" asked the supervisor. jane and sue replied in unison and miss hardy picked up the telephone directory and after ascertaining the number of the local field of the federated line, dialed the airport. the night operations manager answered and miss hardy informed him that she had two graduate nurses who needed transportation to chicago for an interview with the personnel officer. "when do you think we'll go in?" sue whispered to the supervisor. "that will depend on when there is space," replied miss hardy. "i expect that since you will be traveling on passes it will be a day or two." sue thought of the small sum in cash she had and wondered just how she would subsist in chicago if she failed to get the job as stewardess. miss hardy jotted several notations on the pad beside her phone, thanked the operations manager, and looked up at the girls. "the first plane eastbound for chicago with room for you will be through at three o'clock this morning. that will get you there shortly after seven. can you get ready by that time?" "we can be ready in half an hour," gasped jane. "i thought you could. that's why i told the operations manager to arrange for your passage on the three o'clock plane." "i'll have to finish packing," said sue. miss hardy looked at the clock. "it's midnight now. if i were you i'd go to the dorm and go to bed. sleep until two o'clock. i'll come in and call you in plenty of time to get dressed and get to the airport. don't pack anything except what you'll need for a night or two. if you secure the positions with federated airways, you can write to me and i'll have your things sent in." "that's kind of you. thanks so much," said jane. "i'm just making up, a bit, for the grind i put you through in the last three years. now get along to bed and don't wake the rest of the girls by talking. a couple of hours of sleep will be the best for both of you. i'll call you in plenty of time." jane and sue left the supervisor's office and hurried down the hall. "what do you think of it?" asked sue. "first of all, i think miss hardy's an old dear, and as for the chance to become a stewardess, my vote is unanimous." "so is mine, but i've never been up in a plane before. i'm going to be just a little nervous." "i've never been up, either," confessed jane, "but it certainly won't be any worse than riding in an express elevator. why, the pit just drops out of my stomach every time i get in one of those things." they entered the dormitory and went quickly to their own beds. they undressed in the dark and hung their clothes in the lockers which stood at the head of each bed. jane slipped between the cool, crisp sheets and closed her eyes. but sleep did not come readily. she was too tense, too excited at the events of the last few minutes. earlier in the evening she had been wondering, a little desperately, just what she would do. now there was a fair chance that she would become one of the pioneers in this new profession for girls. and sue was going with her. that was what made jane supremely happy. it would have been tragic to disrupt the bonds of friendship that had grown so close through the trying days of their training. then there was miss hardy. what a revelation she had been. jane smiled as she recalled the friendly look in miss hardy's eyes. after all, the supervisor had been doing the best thing for them even though many of the tasks she had placed on their shoulders during training had been extremely disagreeable. jane wondered what her father and mother would say if she got the job in chicago. it might take more than a little diplomacy to win them over to her side. in the next bed, sue was breathing regularly and deeply and a little later jane's tensed nerves relaxed and she slept. it seemed as though she had been asleep for only a minute when miss hardy shook her gently and whispered, "it's two o'clock and i have lunch ready in my office." sue was already dressing, and jane hurried into her clothes. jane had a pretty brown suit with beret to match while sue wore a two-piece dress of heavy blue crepe. she had a spring coat of similar material and a close-fitting toque, also of blue crepe. they tip-toed to the door of the dormitory and looked back for just a moment. this had been their home for three long years and there was just a touch of heartache as they stepped into the hall and sue pulled the door shut. miss hardy was waiting for them in her office. spread on top of her desk was an appetizing lunch which the supervisor had prepared in the tiny kitchen which adjoined her office. there was a large plate of sandwiches and cups of hot chocolate. "you shouldn't have gone to all this trouble," protested jane. "it wasn't any trouble. i wanted to do it for i want you to have pleasant memories of good samaritan." "we're going to take away a very pleasant memory of you," promised sue, as she finished a sandwich. "i have written my own recommendation and a letter of introduction for you and i am also enclosing mr. speidel's letter," said miss hardy. "this should insure your seeing him tomorrow morning in chicago. i'll be anxious to know the outcome." "we'll telegraph," promised sue. then, remembering how little actual cash she had, she added, "that is, we'll try to telegraph you." miss hardy smiled for she knew how little money most of the girls had when they left training school. they finished the lunch just as the horn of a taxicab squalled in the street below. "there's your cab. it's a fifteen-minute ride to the airport. you'll have to hurry." miss hardy handed the letter of recommendation to jane, who folded it and placed it in her purse. they hurried downstairs, the girls carrying the small week-end bags with them. miss hardy walked to the cab with them. farewells were brief. "i know you'll both make good," said miss hardy. then she turned and hurried back inside the sheltering walls of good samaritan. the cab lurched ahead, gaining speed rapidly as the driver headed for the airport. jane and sue settled back on the worn leather cushions. in another half hour they would be aboard an eastbound transport plane, speeding toward chicago. their hospital days were definitely behind them and new careers, holding the promise of great adventure, were ahead. chapter three adventure ahead the cab sped through the sleeping city. the business district was soon left behind and the paved road bordered the wapsipinicon river, which skirted the south edge of university city. the road swung across the river and ahead of them gleamed the red, green and white lights which marked the boundary of the airport of federated airways. the taxi slowed and drew to a halt in front of the administration building. the driver helped jane and sue from the cab. jane opened her purse to pay the fare from her slender funds, but the driver waved the money away. "miss hardy at the hospital said to charge it to her account," he said, and jane and sue were given another glimpse of the warm heart which beat beneath the grim exterior of the supervisor of nurses. the driver led them into the waiting room and left their bags there. jane looked around. it was her first visit to the administration building, although she had been at the field a number of times. the waiting room was furnished with modernistic wicker pieces. soft tan drapes were at the windows and a rug of tan and black squares covered the floor. at a large table in the center was a neat stack of magazines while at a buffet along one wall was a silver tea service. the ticket office opened to the right and jane stepped up to the window. the night manager looked up from his desk. "we are the nurses from good samaritan that miss hardy phoned about. we're to go out on the eastbound plane for chicago," she explained. the night manager swung around to his ticket rack and made out the passes for their transportation to chicago. he was efficient but pleasant. "you'll have to sign permits releasing the system from liability in case of accident. of course this isn't required from regular passengers, but you are traveling free." both jane and sue signed the papers he placed before them. "i'm making out round trip passes," he said. "in case you don't get the jobs, you'll be able to get back here." jane wasn't sure there was much consolation in that for there was probably more chance of getting a job in chicago than in university city. the night manager stepped into the dispatcher's office to inquire the position of the eastbound plane. "your ship will be here in about nine minutes. how about baggage?" "we have small pieces," replied sue. the baggage was weighed, checked and placed on a small cart to be wheeled into the hangar when the plane arrived. the dispatcher stuck his head out of the operations room. "charlie fischer wants the flood light," he said. jane wondered who charlie fischer was and just why he wanted the flood light, but to the field manager that message appeared important for he hurried into the hangar. a moment later a flood of blue light illuminated the field and the drone of engines could be heard. lights flashed on in the hangar and jane and sue left the waiting room. two stars appeared to be descending out of the west and the hulk of a great tri-motor biplane drifted into the brilliant light of the field. the plane settled gently and rolled smoothly along the crushed-rock runway. its motors boomed as the pilot swung it into the hangar. jane and sue looked at the big ship apprehensively. it didn't seem possible that the three motors could lift the great plane off the ground and hurl it through the air at two miles a minute. the ground crew wheeled the portable steps up to the cabin and the pilot and co-pilot came down. they were young, clean-cut chaps. the pilot hastened into the operations room to obtain the latest reports on the weather between university city and chicago while the co-pilot supervised the refueling. jane saw the baggage cart wheeled alongside the plane and their bags disappeared into the forward hold. then the night manager was at their side. "you have seats eight and nine, which places you together on the right side of the ship. this way, please." the girls followed him across the concrete floor and into the spacious cabin. lights inside were turned low for several of the passengers were dozing. jane was amazed at the roomy interior. along the right side was a double row of comfortable reclining chairs, very much like those in a railroad coach. there was a single row along the left side, with the aisle running the length of the cabin. overhead were baggage racks for parcels and wearing apparel and there were individual lights for each chair. a shaded light in the bulkhead ahead revealed two dials, one marked air speed and the other altitude. a door led forward to the baggage and pilot's compartment while a door at the rear opened onto a tiny pantry and a lavatory. jane counted the seats. there was room for fourteen in the cabin and counting themselves, twelve passengers were now aboard. chairs eight and nine were almost at the rear of the cabin and jane and sue settled into the seats. the night manager handed them each a small, sealed envelope. "here's your traveling packet of gum and cotton. better put the cotton in your ears. the noise is a little bad the first few minutes. if you think the altitude will affect your ears, chew gum while you're going up. will you want a blanket so you can sleep?" "i should say not," replied sue. "i'm going to see everything there is to see." the pilots re-entered the plane and walked up the aisle to disappear through the forward door. the cabin door was closed and made fast and the three motors came to life with a thundering roar. the big ship vibrated strongly as one motor after the other was tested until the chief pilot was sure they were ready for the four-hour flight to chicago. the huge biplane moved slowly as the pilot taxied it out of the hangar. then the tail was flipped around and the plane headed down the long runway. the night was shattered with the powerful beat of the engines and blue tongues of flame licked around the exhausts of the wing motors. sue, who was next to the window, reached over and gripped jane's hand. both girls had stuffed cotton in their ears and both were chewing energetically on the gum. with rapidly increasing speed the plane rolled down the smooth runway. the ground flashed by at an amazing speed and before either jane or sue realized it, the transport was winging its way over the edge of the field. the flood light below came on, outlining the entire airport with its penetrating brilliance. the pilot banked the great biplane gently and headed away into the east. the roar of the motors filled the cabin but, by leaning close, jane and sue were able to talk. "scared?" asked jane. "not now, but my heart was in my mouth when we started. how about you?" "i guess i felt the same way, but now it seems as though flying was the most ordinary thing in the world." the lights of university city faded and the transport bored east into the night. jane watched the dials on the bulkhead. the indicator for air speed pointed to miles an hour while the altimeter showed they were now , feet above ground. in a pocket at the rear of the chair ahead was a folding map which showed the route of federated airways from chicago to the west coast and jane and sue scanned this with intense interest. each city and emergency landing field was marked, with a brief description printed on the map. chapter four an emergency case dawn came as the tri-motor sped over the level farm lands of iowa. passengers who had been dozing roused themselves to watch the sun shoot over the horizon. the night mists were dispelled and the fresh greenness of the corn belt in spring was unfolded below them. wisps of smoke rose from the chimneys of farmhouses as breakfast was prepared and jane and sue, looking down, saw farmers about their chores in the farmyards. there was a brief pause at bellevue for refueling and then the big ship sped away on the last leg of the flight to chicago. in another hour and a half jane and sue would be in the windy city. an elderly man two seats ahead and on the aisle had caught jane's attention and she watched him closely. his face was pale and he appeared slightly ill. perhaps the motion of the plane was unsettling, she thought. the flight would be over in a short time. jane's attention went back to the panorama below and for several minutes she paid no attention to the man ahead. when she looked at him again, she felt genuine alarm and she leaned close to sue to speak. "unless i'm badly mistaken, the man two seats ahead is mighty sick." sue looked ahead and her eyes widened. "he's pale as a ghost. can't we do something?" jane nodded and rose from her chair. it wasn't any of her business, really, but there might be something she could do. she stepped forward and leaned down. "you look ill," she said. "i'm a trained nurse. is there anything i can do?" the stricken man managed to smile and his eyes spoke his thanks. jane bent low so he could speak directly into her ear. "appendicitis, i fear. i've had it before, but never an attack as severe as this. how long before we'll be in chicago?" "not long," replied jane. "i'll see if i can't find something to make you more comfortable." jane hastened back to sue. "it's appendicitis," she said. "let's see if we can find anything in the pantry to make into a compress or fix up an ice bottle. that may help check the inflammation until we get to chicago." while the other passengers looked on a little startled, the girls went back to the pantry. "here's a bottle of cold water," said sue. "i've found some towels. we'll make some cold compresses." some one tapped her on the shoulder just then and she turned around to look into the stern face of the co-pilot. "passengers are not allowed here," he said. "you'll have to go back to your seats." sue started to make a sharp reply, but jane silenced her. "the man in no. is suffering from an attack of appendicitis," she explained. "we're trained nurses and thought we might find something here we could use to relieve the pain until we get to chicago." the grim expression on the co-pilot's face vanished. "why didn't you say so?" "you didn't give us a chance," retorted sue. "do you think his condition is serious?" the flyer asked jane. "he's pretty sick right now and he's not a young man by any means. if you can send word ahead some way to have an ambulance waiting at the field, that will help." "i'll get a radio off at once. is there anything i can do?" "no, we'll do everything possible," jane told him. "the other passengers seem to be a little alarmed," said sue. "i'm going to tell them just what's up." "good idea. i'll have the compresses ready when you come back." sue went along the cabin and stopped to tell each passenger just what was the matter with the elderly man in no. . everyone was sympathetic, but there was nothing they could do to help. the girls made the stricken man as comfortable as possible and changed the cold packs frequently. it seemed to jane as though the engines were droning along at a higher pitch and a glance at the air-speed indicator revealed that they were traveling miles an hour. they passed over aurora and jane knew they would soon be in chicago. the co-pilot came back. "how's he getting along?" he asked jane. "he's much more comfortable. did you get a message through?" "an ambulance is waiting at the field right now. gosh, but i'm glad you girls were along. you ought to apply for jobs with the company. they're going to put on a bunch of girls as stewardesses." "that's just exactly why we're on this plane." "then this bit of first aid won't hurt you in getting a job," grinned the co-pilot. he ducked back into the forward compartment and a few minutes later the plane swung over the municipal airport, chicago headquarters of the federated airways. word had been flashed around the field that the incoming plane was bringing in a sick man, and the ship was given the right of way over all other planes. jane and sue were too much interested in their patient to feel the slightest discomfort as the plane landed and rolled along the concrete ramp. sue hurried the other passengers out and an ambulance backed up to the plane. "i'm deeply grateful," whispered their patient, as he was lifted from the plane to the ambulance. a white-garbed intern waved to the driver and with its siren clearing a path, the ambulance sped away. jane smiled at her companion. "i wonder who he was? i forgot to ask his name." "i was too busy to think about that," confessed sue. "perhaps we'll see him again if we are fortunate enough to secure positions on the air line." the chief pilot of their plane paused beside them. "that was fine, level-headed work," he said. "you girls did exactly the right thing. i'm mighty glad the line is going to add a trained nurse as stewardess on all of the passenger runs. the co-pilot said you were going to apply." "we hope to see mr. speidel, the personnel director, today," said jane. the chief pilot glanced at his wrist watch. "it's just seven-thirty. mr. speidel won't be here for another hour. tell you what. let's have breakfast together here at the field and then i'll see that you have an interview with mr. speidel as soon as he reaches the field. believe me, i'm grateful for what you girls did on the flight in." jane hesitated a second, but sue accepted enthusiastically. "that's fine. i've got to see that the ship is berthed properly. i'll meet you in the waiting room." the lanky flyer hurried away and jane and sue went into the waiting room. "do you think we ought to have accepted the invitation?" asked jane. "yes. if we get on as stewardesses, we'll have to know all of the pilots fairly well. besides, think what a free breakfast means to our slender purses." jane smiled. "you would think of that." a few minutes later the pilot of their ship rejoined them. "say, i forgot to introduce myself," he chuckled. "i'm charlie fischer." "and i'm jane cameron and my friend is sue hawley." "now that everything's in order and we know who's who, let's eat." the flyer led the way into the modernistic restaurant which adjoined the waiting room and they sat down at gleaming black and silver tables. "the sky's the limit," advised their new friend and jane and sue added bacon to their usual breakfast of toast and fruit. "do you know very much about the plans for using stewardesses?" asked jane. "only the talk that's heard along the system. with passenger traffic getting heavier all of the time, some step must be taken to have a member of the crew in the cabin where the needs of the passengers can be looked after. i think selecting trained nurses is a mighty good idea." "have any girls been hired?" sue wanted to know. "not yet. i think today is the first on which mr. speidel is to have interviews with candidates." "is he nice?" persisted sue. "he's not half bad and i'm certainly going to give both of you the best possible recommendation. have either of you flown much before?" "this was our first trip," said jane. charlie fischer whistled softly. "well, you certainly are a cool pair. i hope you're assigned to my crew." they finished breakfast and the chief pilot walked with them to the nearby administration building. the field was roaring with activity. planes were at the ramp being loaded with mail and express, ready for swift dashes to almost every point of the compass. passengers were saying hasty farewells to friends, and porters, laden with baggage, hurried from taxis to the planes. it was a fascinating picture and jane knew that she would thoroughly enjoy being a part of it. chapter five with flying colors charlie fischer took jane and sue up to the second floor of the administration building. they entered a broad hall with chairs ranged along each wall and in every chair was a girl. jane's heart sank for she knew instantly that every one of them was there to apply for the position of stewardess. sue looked at her and somehow managed a brave smile. "there's going to be plenty of competition," she whispered. charlie fischer glanced at the double row of girls waiting to be called into the office of the personnel director. "wait here," he told jane and sue. "i'll see if we can't manage to slip through ahead of the rest." jane and sue sat down in the last two chairs along the hall and jane looked at their competitors. the girls were all about her own age, most of them very attractive to look upon. they were trim and capable and had the calm bearing which their training had instilled. a secretary came down the hall, taking the names and addresses of each girl. finally she reached jane and sue and they gave their names. "what is your chicago address?" she asked. "we just arrived," explained jane, "and hope to see mr. speidel this morning." "i'm afraid you won't be able to see him today. there are all those girls ahead of you," the secretary advised. jane's spirits ebbed but she went on determinedly. "i have a letter here from the supervisor of nurses at good samaritan hospital at university city," she said. "mr. speidel wrote to her asking that she recommend several girls for this work." "yes, i know. mr. speidel wrote to a number of supervisors. almost every girl here has her recommendation from a supervisor, but i'm afraid you'll have to wait your turn." the secretary returned to her desk at the head of the hall and several minutes later the first two girls at the head of the line were called into the office of the personnel director. "looks like our flying friend has forgotten all about us," said sue when half an hour had elapsed and there was no sign of charlie fischer. jane nodded a bit dismally. slowly the girls were called into the office and jane knew that there was little chance she and sue would have an interview that day. it was nearly an hour later when charlie fischer reappeared and instead of coming out of the personnel director's office, he came up the stairs which led to the ramp. in his hand was a typed report. "think i'd forgotten all about you?" "we had almost given up hope," conceded jane. "i had quite an argument with mr. speidel about seeing you girls out of turn. he's a stickler for detail and fair play and is afraid that if you are taken in ahead of the others they may feel he is playing favorites." jane nodded. she could understand that and she didn't want to start work, if they secured the positions, under a handicap of resentment by the other girls. "i didn't argue long enough to make him mad," said the flyer, "but skipped out the back way and went down to get a complete report on our flight in. i also checked the hospital to find out about your patient. he's getting along fine, thanks to the emergency treatment you were able to give him. now i'm going to hand these reports in and we'll see what happens." the lanky flyer hurried down the hall and went into the personnel director's office. in less than five minutes he opened the door and beckoned for jane and sue to join him. the young nurses smoothed their dresses and gave their hair a final pat as they hurried down the hall. the office of the personnel director was large and, like the entire administration building of federated airways, was furnished in a modernistic style. one whole wall was of glass, giving a wonderful view of the entire field. the personnel director looked up from the typed report he had been scanning. he was short and stocky, with dark, close-cropped hair and a heavy face, but his eyes were pleasant and he greeted them warmly. "i've just finished reading the complete report of the fine piece of work you did coming in on trip no. this morning. charlie tells me neither of you had flown before." "it was our first trip," admitted jane. "then i must say you were remarkably cool-headed under the circumstances. do you have a letter from your supervisor?" jane handed him the envelope from miss hardy and he read the letter of commendation thoroughly. "your supervisor thinks rather highly of you," smiled mr. speidel when he finished. "do you really think you'd like flying?" he shot the question at them unexpectedly. "there's danger, there's a lot of responsibility, and there's a great deal of work at times," he went on. "you may be trapped in almost any kind of weather--rain, snow, hail, sleet, fog. you must be calm and resourceful and courageous. we demand a great deal of loyalty." "we've thought the whole thing over," said sue, "and decided we'd like the work. now, after the trip in from university city, we are certain we are making no mistake." "how about you, miss cameron?" "i am sure i would like it," said jane. "very well. we'll put you down on the tentatively accepted list. final acceptance will depend on your ability to qualify under our physical requirements. you'll find the office of dr. emma perkins at the other end of the hall. give her this card and she'll put you through the routine. if you pass, return here at three o'clock." when they emerged from the office of the personnel director, a little breathless and flushed, it was nearly lunch time. "i'd like to treat you to lunch," said charlie fischer, "but i've got to get down town." "thanks a lot for all you've done," said jane. "we'll do our best to pass the rest of the examinations." "you'll come out all right," prophesied their new friend. jane and sue went down to the restaurant on the main floor where they ate a leisurely lunch. outside planes were landing and taking off and a constant crowd swirled along the ramp and through the waiting room. already the tempo of the whole thing had gotten deep into their blood. "i'll be terribly disappointed if we don't pass the physical tests," confessed sue. "don't worry about that. we're in perfect health." at one o'clock they reported at the office of dr. perkins and were taken into the examination room at once. doctor perkins, small and business-like, put them through the regular routine. "humph," she said as she checked the results. "if all girls were as healthy as you two, there would be little for doctors to do." "then you mean we've passed all right?" asked sue anxiously. "your physical report will be per cent, which is unusually high. take your cards back to mr. speidel's office." when sue and jane returned to the other end of the hall the line of girls had thinned. they presented their health cards to the secretary and were admitted almost at once to the office. "it looks like i'm about to sign two more stewardesses," he smiled as he took their cards. his eyes widened as he read the final report. "why, this is rather remarkable. doctor perkins is pretty much of a stickler for detail. a mark from her is about from any other examiner." the personnel officer took two blanks from a pile at one corner of his desk. "now we'll get down to the serious business of enrolling you for the stewardess service," he said. "you mean we've really got the jobs?" asked jane. "you certainly have. your pay starts today with a salary of $ a month and uniforms furnished by the system. does that sound attractive?" "it's more than attractive," smiled sue. in less than ten minutes they were formally enrolled as members of the federated airways' stewardess service. "we've signed a dozen girls, including you two, and are sending them all west to cheyenne tonight aboard a special plane. uniforms are being made here. take a company taxi and go to the barclay tailors on north michigan avenue. they are outfitting all of the girls. be back at the field at five o'clock. miss comstock, who is chief of the stewardess service, will be here. report to her at this office." "thank you very much, mr. speidel," said jane. "we'll do our best," promised sue. they were in a cab and speeding toward the loop before they relaxed, for the strain of the last few hours had been terrific for both girls. sue's eyes filled with tears and jane felt her own throat choke up. with their funds so low, securing the positions with the federated airways had been essential and now that it was no longer a dream, it was hard to believe. "would you mind pinching me to see if i am awake?" said sue, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. "we're awake all right," said jane as the cab struck a bad bump and threw them to the ceiling. the meter was clicking up an astonishing taxi bill and sue stared at it questioningly. "maybe we'd better get out and take a street car down town," she suggested. "don't be silly. this is a federated airways cab. it won't cost us a cent and the driver will come around and take us back to the field when we're ready." "how do you know?" sue asked suspiciously. "because i took the time and had the good sense to inquire at the ticket office. when i told them we were new stewardesses they gave me a card entitling us to round-trip transportation to the loop in a company cab." "i didn't see you do that," protested sue. "no, you were too busy watching the plane coming in from the west." at the tailors they were measured for trim serge suits of a smoke-green. berets of the same material and color were furnished. the fitting required an hour and the tailors promised to have the suits in cheyenne within the week. "what do you think of the uniforms?" jane asked as they left the tailors. "i love them. they're so trim and business-like, yet feminine at the same time. what a contrast to a nurse's uniform." jane was willing to admit that the neat, serge suits would be much more comfortable than the primly starched outfits they had been accustomed to wearing. they had to wait a few minutes until the cab arrived and then they were whirled rapidly toward the field on the outskirts of the city. when they reached the airport, jane went straight to the waiting room and sat down at a writing table. "going to write home?" asked sue. "first of all i'm writing to miss hardy back at good samaritan. after all, it was because of her interest that we managed to get these positions. then i'll dash off a letter home. there's half an hour before we report to the chief stewardess." "i wonder if the folks will object?" mused sue as she sat down at the other side of the desk and picked up a pen. "i'm going to tell mine that miss hardy felt it an excellent opportunity. they have great faith in her and i'm sure they'll not protest." chapter six westward flight it was shortly before five o'clock when jane and sue reported to miss comstock at the office of the personnel director. by five o'clock all of the girls who had been signed for the stewardess service were in the office and miss comstock spoke to them briefly. "when we arrive in cheyenne," she explained, "you will go through a two weeks' training course which i will conduct. the purpose of this is to thoroughly familiarize you with your duties and to acquaint you with the special geographical features of the line for, as stewardesses, you must not only care for your passengers but be qualified to answer their questions. i can assure you that they will ask a great many. while in training at cheyenne, you will make trips over the routes to which you will be assigned. since the stewardess service is to become effective june th, you understand that we have much to do for i am counting on you girls making a fine record on the line." as miss comstock finished speaking, a huge tri-motor rolled up on the ramp and charlie fischer stuck his head out to look for his passengers. "our plane is waiting. we'll have a late lunch in omaha," said miss comstock. "i suggest that on the way down you girls introduce yourselves to one another." with the chief stewardess leading the way, the girls trooped downstairs. just ahead of jane and sue were two girls about their own age. they turned around and introduced themselves. the taller one was grace huston while the shorter one, a red-head, was alice blair. "we took our training here in the county hospital," said grace. "are you from chicago?" "no," replied jane. "we flew in from university city this morning. we graduated just last night from the training school at good samaritan there." "well, that's certainly fast work," smiled alice. "in less than twenty-four hours you're starting on a new career." "twenty-four hours ago we didn't have any idea what we would be doing," confessed sue. "i'm excited about this position," said grace. "think of the thrill of flying day and night through all kinds of weather!" "i've thought all about it," replied her companion, "and it may be too thrilling once in a while, but it's a job and a good paying one. how do you like the uniforms?" "they're fascinating," said jane. "i can hardly wait until they are delivered at cheyenne." "which reminds me," put in alice, "that i'd like to know what cheyenne is like." her question went unanswered for they had reached the tri-motor and miss comstock hurried her charges inside. jane and sue were fortunate to find a double seat and grace and alice sat directly behind them. the last of the girls' baggage was placed aboard and the cabin door closed and locked. the big ship trembled as charlie fischer opened the throttle. then it rolled smoothly down the ramp. other planes were being wheeled from their hangars and made ready for the overnight runs. the great airport was almost at the height of its daily rush. jane, next to the window, saw the dispatcher in his tower signal their pilot to go ahead. the motors roared lustily and the plane shot down the long runway, lifted smoothly into the air, and started westward, boring into the setting sun in a slow climb. chicago faded behind them as they sped over the fertile farm land of illinois. jane relaxed in the comfortable chair and closed her eyes. the nervous strain of the last few hours had been terrific and she welcomed the opportunity to rest and relax. sue, likewise tired by the day, closed her eyes and both girls dozed. they were over the mississippi at dusk with the lights of clinton, iowa, visible to their right. then the plane sped on above the rich acres of iowa. below them the headlights of automobiles dotted the highways and an occasional cluster of lights marked a village. then a field blazed into blue-white incandescence and the beat of the motors slowed. miss comstock came down the aisle and sue asked her their location. "we're landing at iowa city to refuel. we'll stay there about ten minutes. you can get out and walk about the hangar if you like." there were only a few people at the airport when the tri-motor rolled into the hangar and the girls stepped out of the cabin. "i'm getting hungry and omaha is a long distance ahead," said grace huston. "there's a restaurant just a block away, by that old hangar," pointed out alice. "we could get a chocolate bar there. that should keep off the wolf until omaha." they agreed that chocolate bars would taste good and alice, collecting a dime from each of her companions, hurried away toward the restaurant. when she returned, the candy bars were welcomed eagerly and when the girls stepped back into the plane they felt refreshed. the floodlight opened up the night with its blue-white brilliance and the tri-motor rolled across the field and soared westward again. miss comstock came down the aisle with an armful of the latest magazines. "this will be one of your duties," she said as she offered them to jane and sue. the girls made their selection but jane found her eyes too heavy for reading. she changed places with sue and dozed again while her companion read. at the end of another hour, the plane started bucking sharply and sleep became impossible for any of the girls. miss comstock came along the aisle and spoke to each girl. "there's a bad cross-wind. see that your safety belts are buckled securely." the plane continued to bounce up and down, sometimes dropping for what seemed to jane hundreds of feet only to bound upward again with a jarring shock. sue was white and perspiration stood out on her forehead. "i hope we won't have many trips like this," she gasped. "oh, i wish i hadn't eaten that candy!" jane looked around to see how grace and alice were faring. grace looked like a ghost, but alice seemed unaffected. one of the girls at the rear of the plane became violently nauseated but miss comstock, cool and undisturbed by the rough weather, cared for her. one thing jane realized; they were all getting a thorough test of their weather ability on their first long flight. the weather was rough all the rest of the way to omaha, but after the first half hour, sue recovered her equilibrium and managed to smile at the white face and tight lips of some of the other girls. poor grace was in agony most of the way. "lunch is ready at the field restaurant," miss comstock announced when they rolled into the hangar at omaha. various replies greeted her announcement. some of the girls were ready to eat, while several could only groan at the thought of food. charlie fischer climbed down and spoke to jane and sue. "a little rough the last hundred and fifty miles," he grinned. "it was more than a little rough," retorted sue. "it was terribly rough." "say, that was smooth compared to some of the weather we strike west of here. you've got lots of surprises ahead." "i've had enough for one night," replied sue, "but maybe i won't notice it from now on." "some people are all right after the first time and others never get over air sickness," replied charlie cheerfully. "what a great help you are," countered sue. "i'm leaving you here. this is the end of my run tonight. maybe you'll be assigned with me when you go into active service." "if flying with you means weather like this, i hope not," smiled jane. miss comstock, anticipating that some of the girls might be air-sick, had ordered a light supper and only one of them, pert meade, who had been ill aboard the plane, was unable to enjoy the attractive meal. it was eleven o'clock when they re-entered the cabin, ready for the flight over the windswept nebraska country. a new pilot, an older man than charlie fischer, was at the controls. the girls took their places, fastened the safety belts, and the big ship roared away again. the weather was still rough as they followed the platte river valley, riding high above country along which the pioneers had struggled in the early days of the west. they were following the u. p. trail, but were covering in an hour a distance it had taken the first settlers weeks to traverse. jane looked at the air-speed indicator. they were traveling only a little more than a hundred miles an hour and she knew that the wind outside must be blowing a gale. below them one of the department of commerce emergency landing fields, outlined with red, green, and white border lights, drifted by. she looked at the route map. the field must have been wood river, just west and a little south of grand island. they were still another hour out of north platte. it was well after midnight and most of the girls were dozing. jane looked around and saw miss comstock in the last of the single seats on the left side of the cabin. the chief stewardess was looking out the window, staring with a sort of desperate intentness into the night, and jane wondered if there was anything wrong. she listened to the beat of the motors. they were running smoothly, with whips of blue flame streaking from the exhausts, and jane concluded that she had been imagining things when she decided miss comstock was upset. several minutes later the chief stewardess hastened up the aisle and disappeared along the passage which led to the pilots' compartment. she returned almost immediately and snapped on the top light, flooding the cabin with a blaze of brilliance. just then the motor on the left wing stopped and jane knew that something was decidedly wrong for the chief stewardess's face was pale and drawn. chapter seven crash landing jane shook sue into wakefulness, and, cupping her hands so that only sue could hear, said, "get the sleep out of your eyes. something's gone wrong. one motor has stopped." sue, thoroughly aroused at jane's words, rubbed the sleep from her eyes and sat up straight. miss comstock hurried down the aisle, shaking the girls into consciousness. then she returned to the front of the cabin. the two other motors had been throttled down and by speaking in a loud tone, she could be heard by every girl. "we are about to make a forced landing," she began and as she saw quick looks of alarm flash over the faces of the girls, hastened to add, "there is no need for undue alarm. i am sure no one will be injured for one of the most experienced pilots on the line is at the controls. please see that your safety belts are fastened securely. try to relax your muscles if that is possible." the plane heeled sharply as a vicious gust of wind caught it and jane looked out, hoping that lights of one of the emergency landing fields would be visible. only a solid mass of black greeted her eyes and she knew that their situation was indeed dangerous. had miss comstock only been talking bravely, attempting to reassure the girls? jane looked at her companions. apprehension was written on the face of each one, but none of them was flinching, a tribute to the fine courage which their nurses' training instilled. they were accustomed to emergencies, even though this one was more than they had bargained for on their first long flight. jane tried to analyze her own feelings, but found that there was a peculiar lack of emotion. there was nothing she could do to ease the situation. she looked at her companion. sue smiled back bravely and reached over and took jane's hand. it made them feel a little closer. "how far above ground are we?" asked sue. the needle on the altimeter dial was jumping crazily and jane shook her head. the air speed was down to eighty miles an hour and they seemed to be drifting into the wind. miss comstock started to turn off the top light, but one of the girls asked her to leave it on. it was much easier sitting there with the light on than waiting for the crash in the dark. miss comstock walked down the aisle and jane marveled at her ability to remain so calm in the emergency. she admired the chief stewardess immensely for her control of her nerves, for miss comstock didn't appear to be more than three or four years older. she was a little shorter than jane with a tinge of auburn in her hair and she was dressed in the natty smoke-green suit which was to mark the stewardesses of the federated airways. dozens of thoughts raced through jane's mind. she wondered what miss hardy would say when she heard about the accident and what her own folks would do. then miss comstock was beside her, speaking loud enough to be heard by all of the girls. "we are almost down," she told them. "please remain calm." jane wondered what miss comstock would do when they struck. there was no safety belt to keep her from being tossed about, for the chief stewardess remained in the aisle. the landing lights on the wings were trying to bore into the night, but the air was filled with dust and jane knew that the pilots were feeling their way down blind, hoping for a good landing. every girl sensed that the crash was near and sue leaned her head over on jane's shoulder and closed her eyes. she had always looked to jane for the final decision and now she turned to her for comfort and protection. the plane lurched heavily and something ripped against the undercarriage. the lights in the cabin went out and jane felt miss comstock pitched into her lap. in a flash she wrapped her arms around the chief stewardess and held her as tightly as possible. there was the sensation of falling blindly into a great abyss and then came a jarring crash that seemed to split the cabin apart. after that there was a silence, broken only by the sobbing of the wind. jane felt the chief stewardess struggling to free herself from her arms. "let me go," gasped miss comstock. "we've got to get out of here." jane released her hold and spoke to sue. "are you all right?" she asked. "except for still being scared half to death." other girls were moving about, unfastening their safety belts and trying to get to their feet. "the cabin's on a sharp angle," miss comstock told them. "take off your belts, get down in the aisle on your hands and knees, and follow me to the rear." jane and sue obeyed, with sue directly behind miss comstock. then came jane with grace huston and alice blair following and the other girls behind them. no one appeared to be hurt except for minor bruises and bumps. when they reached the door, which had been torn from its hinges by the impact, miss comstock cautioned them again. "it's about six feet to the ground. slide over the edge and hang by your hands until your feet are on the ground. then each girl wait until the next is down and we'll form a chain of hands so that no one is lost. count as you come and we'll know when everyone is out." jane was the first one out and she cried, "no. out," in a loud voice. girl after girl called out their number as they scrambled down out of the wreckage until every one was outside. still holding hands, miss comstock led them away from the plane as jane wondered about the pilots. the wreckage was at least fifty yards behind when miss comstock paused. "you girls wait here. i'm going back and find the pilots." she started back alone, but jane slipped out of the group and joined her. "you can't go alone," she said. "if they're trapped, maybe i can be of some help." "go back, jane," ordered the chief stewardess. "there's the gasoline. smell it? the wreckage may catch on fire at any moment." "that's just why you need me," insisted jane. miss comstock hurried on. jane was determined and there was no time to waste in argument. the tri-motor had landed on a hillside, first striking a fringe of trees which had wrecked the undercarriage and then skidding along the hillside until the nose had dug into the ground, flipping the tail into the air at a crazy angle. the pilots' cockpit appeared badly smashed, but as miss comstock and jane approached, a man crawled out of the wreckage. it was the co-pilot, badly battered and only half conscious. "slim's in there," he gasped, pointing back at the smashed cockpit. miss comstock lunged ahead, tearing at the wreckage, hunting for slim bollei, the chief pilot. the smell of gasoline was doubly strong and jane realized their grave danger, but she never wavered in following the chief stewardess. they found the chief pilot jammed behind the control wheel. "you take his shoulders while i try to free his feet," ordered miss comstock. working swiftly, they managed to lift the pilot clear and jane was thankful that he was slight in stature. it would have been impossible for them to carry a heavy man. they staggered away from the wreckage just as a tongue of flame leaped along the remains of the right wing. "hurry," gasped miss comstock. "we've got to get farther away." the co-pilot tried to assist them, but he was too weak to help. "take care of yourself," miss comstock told him. "we'll get slim away." the flames spread rapidly and by the time they reached the crest of the hill, the wreckage was an inferno of fire with roaring, twisting flames leaping into the heavens. jane shuddered and closed her eyes and the other girls huddled close together. "this is no time for anyone to have hysterics," said the steel-nerved miss comstock. she turned to the co-pilot. "did you get a message out that we were crashing?" she asked. "yes, but i don't know whether it got through. the static has been terrific for the last hour." "where are we?" "somewhere between wood river and kearney and a little south of the line. the platte can't be far south of us." "i don't care where the platte is. i want to get to a phone and find a doctor for slim and report to the line," snapped miss comstock. she turned to sue and alice. "you girls take charge here. do what you can for these men while jane and i start out to see if we can find a farmhouse with a telephone." leaving the other girls on the hilltop, miss comstock and jane plunged away into the night. the chief stewardess strode rapidly, and jane found it difficult to keep up with her. "perhaps a farmer will be attracted by the flames," she gasped as they topped another hill. "it's not likely. if the co-pilot was right, we're in a rather desolate spot just north of the river. we'll keep going and see what we can locate." for half an hour they plodded steadily ahead until they struck a dirt road running at right angles to their own course. "we'll turn to the left. at least we'll be going toward kearney," said miss comstock. they trudged a mile down the road before they came to a farmhouse. a dog greeted them with lusty barks and the farmer threw up a window on the second floor. "what's going on out there?" he cried. "we're stewardesses on the federated airways," miss comstock shouted. "our plane crashed about an hour ago in the hills over toward the platte. we've got to get to a phone so we can call a doctor and inform the line about the accident." "come right in. i'll be down in a minute." a light flashed in the room upstairs and the farmer, dressing hastily, hurried down. miss comstock almost rang the telephone off the wall in trying to arouse the operator on the rural line, but at last got her call through to the field at kearney and told the night man there what had happened. the farmer supplied them with directions for the field relief crew and the kearney men promised to arrive with a doctor within the hour. the farmer's wife hastened down and insisted on making coffee and sandwiches. "was anyone badly injured?" she asked. "the chief pilot is hurt, but i don't know how seriously," replied miss comstock. "but isn't it dangerous for girls like you to be flying in those airplanes?" asked the farmer's wife. "it was tonight," smiled miss comstock, "but as a rule it is as safe as riding in a railroad train and much safer than traveling in an automobile. what do you think about it, jane?" "i think it's thrilling, but the crash tonight will be enough to last me for the rest of my life," she replied. "it will probably be the first and last one you'll ever have. flying is getting safer every day. you certainly had your baptism under fire the first night out." chapter eight winning their wings the crew from the kearney field arrived in a large truck and trailing them was an ambulance with a doctor and two nurses. the farmer joined the party and helped guide them to the shivering group on the hilltop north of the platte. the wreckage of the tri-motor had long since ceased to glow and the wind whined dismally through a low growth of underbrush. sue was the first to reach the truck and miss comstock fairly leaped after her. "how's the pilot and co-pilot?" she asked, anxiety making her voice sound unnatural. "they'll come through all right," said sue. "i think the pilot has a slight concussion and his right arm is broken. the co-pilot is only suffering from shock and bruises." "and the girls?" "they're all right. when the fire died down a bit, several of them even tried to get close enough to salvage some of the mail, but the flames leaped up again and forced them back." the flyers were carried to the waiting ambulance and that vehicle soon lurched away over the uneven ground. the crew from the kearney field had brought powerful electric torches and with these they made a thorough survey of the tri-motor. it was a charred mass of twisted steel tubing, little resembling the proud ship which had bucked the storm a few hours before. "the company can write about $ , off the books," growled the manager of the kearney field. "i wonder how it happened?" "the left wing started to flutter," said miss comstock. "i could tell from the vibration of the ship something was wrong and when i went up into the cockpit slim bollei told me we were in a jam. he was afraid the wing was going to tear loose so he cut the left motor. with the wind bad and the wing loosening up more every second we were in the air he had to hunt a place to set down quick." "well, he sure put this crate down for keeps," grunted the manager. "guess we might as well start back to the field and i'll write up a report of the accident." the girls piled into the big truck, jane and sue sitting at the very end with their feet hanging over. "what a night," said sue as the truck moved away from the scene of the accident. "for a while i was afraid i wasn't going to live through it." "i'm still shaky," confessed grace huston, who was just behind them. "it wasn't pleasant," admitted jane, "but we're all lucky to be out alive and with the pilots only slightly injured. however, as miss comstock says, this will probably be our first and last crash and it might as well come early." when they reached the kearney field, miss comstock got in touch with the operations manager at cheyenne and informed him that another plane would be needed to take her charges to cheyenne. it was daylight when cheyenne finally came back with flying orders. a special plane was being ordered out of omaha to take the girls the remainder of the distance. "we'll have several hours here," miss comstock informed them, "so i've chartered several cabs to take us uptown for breakfast. we'll go to the hotel, clean up and relax. lunch will be in cheyenne." they were about to leave the field when a young man hurried up. "i'm the associated press correspondent here," he explained, "and i'm looking for the stewardess in charge." miss comstock stepped forward. "what can i do for you?" she asked. the reporter grinned. "just tell me all about the accident. i've got the pilots' names from the hospital and a few details, but i'd like to have all of the facts." jane was surprised when miss comstock told him everything about the accident. "please say that the new girls were especially calm and cool-headed in their first emergency," she said. "if it had not been for the assistance of one of them i fear the pilot would never have been pulled out of the wreckage before the plane caught fire." the reporter insisted on having jane's name. "this will make a great human-interest story," he exclaimed as he hurried away. miss comstock turned to the girls. "that's a little lesson in public relations," she said. "the policy of the line is to tell the newspaper people the truth. if you try to hide or distort facts, the reporters will learn part of them in some other way and it is much better to have the truth sent out in the first place." after breakfast at the hotel, jane and sue went into the writing room. "i'm going to write my parents about everything that happened last night," said sue. "then they won't worry when they read the newspaper stories." jane agreed that it was a splendid idea and they passed half an hour at their letter writing before miss comstock came in to inform them that it was time to return to the field. as they reached the airport a tri-motor swung in from the east. it swooped low over the field and an arm was flung out of the cockpit in a friendly greeting to the girls who were standing beside the hangar. the tri-motor nosed around into the wind and dropped down to an easy landing. when it stopped in the hangar, the pilot stuck his head out of the cockpit. "hi, there," he called to jane and sue. "i hear you won your wings last night." it was charlie fischer, who had flown them from chicago to omaha the night before. "you mean we had them clipped and singed," retorted jane. charlie climbed down from the cockpit. "how's slim bollei?" he asked. "just a slight crack on his head," said sue. "i hear that they select men with hard heads for pilots." "ouch!" grinned charlie. "i'm going to wear armor the next time i talk to you." "you needn't. i don't even bite." the pilot turned to miss comstock. "get your cargo aboard," he said, "and we'll take off in about five minutes. they routed me out at omaha and started me west before i had time to get anything to eat. we'll start as soon as i can rustle a cup of coffee and a sandwich at the shanty across the road." by this time the girls had become fairly well acquainted and already little groups were being formed. jane was pleased that alice and grace had personalities that fitted in so smoothly with her own and sue's. there would be much to learn and much to do in the coming weeks and it would be much pleasanter getting accustomed to the new environment if friends were nearby. the air was cool and sweet. the wind had subsided and there was no trace of the terror it had wrought the night before as the girls took their places and fastened the safety belts around their bodies. charlie fischer, still munching a sandwich, hurried into the hangar, signed the gas and oil record book, climbed into his cockpit and gunned the motors. the big biplane rolled smoothly ahead, turned its nose into the wind, and started climbing skyward. they were off on the last lap of their trip to cheyenne. chapter nine at mrs. murphy's jane had secretly wondered just how she would feel when the plane soared into the sky. after the experience of the night before she feared that a numbing fright might grip her and she was greatly relieved when there was no feeling of apprehension. instead, she thoroughly enjoyed the smooth upward flight, the pulsating power of the great motors, and the panorama unfolding beneath. she turned to look at sue. her companion was gripping the arms of her chair tightly, her eyes bright and staring straight ahead. when jane started to speak to her, she shook her head, but jane watched sue closely for the next few minutes. gradually sue relaxed and a little later she leaned over and spoke to jane. "i was fighting down a little bugaboo of fear," she grinned. "i knew if i didn't conquer it all by myself, i'd never be able to do it. now i'll never be afraid to fly anywhere and anytime." jane thought that statement was a little bold, but she hoped it was true. keeping to the right of the broad platte, they sped westward with the speed indicator wavering between and miles an hour for there was only a slight head wind dropping down from the far-away rockies. north platte appeared ahead and jane consulted the map of their route. north platte was a regular passenger stop, but they were running as a special, and the plane dropped over the southwestern nebraska city. here the platte forked, one branch swinging northwest while the south platte continued almost straight west. the shining steel of the union pacific rails caught the sunlight far below and jane saw the smoky plume of a transcontinental limited threading its way westward. the plane soon overhauled the train and left it far behind. they were too high for any of the girls to wave. the country became rougher, more desolate, and the few farms looked drear and beaten down by the buffeting of the elements. they passed north of sidney and not long afterward jane knew they were in wyoming. it was just north of pine bluffs that jane got her first glimpse of the rockies. the air was clear and the visibility excellent. far away to the west and south she saw the snowy summit of what she was later to know as long's peak and other lesser mountains reared their heads into view. jane touched sue's arm, and called her attention to the beauty of the distant scene. together they watched, breathlessly, the great vista of the mountains. it was not long after that until a good-sized city came into view to their left and jane, looking at the altimeter, knew the plane was nosing down. this, then, must be cheyenne, the chief operating base for federated airways' transcontinental line and the city which was to be the headquarters of the stewardess service. the tri-motor swung over the sprawling, one-time pioneer city and dropped down on the airport, which was a little more than a mile north of the city. jane was astounded by the size of the field and the largeness of the hangars which flanked the side nearest cheyenne. at first glance it seemed almost as large as the field at chicago. they rolled into an immense hangar, behind which towered the brick building which housed the administrative offices of the federated airways. it was here that jane and sue were to go to school before they went into active service. miss comstock led them through the waiting room, into the administration building and down to a new, one-story wing which had just been completed. drawing a key from a pocket, she unlocked the door and turned to the girls. "this new wing was built especially for the stewardess service. there is a classroom, a complete kitchen and commissary, lockers, lounging room and shower. i'm sure you'll like it." jane stepped into the lounging room. it was delightfully furnished in wicker and the walls were a soft grey with rose-colored drapes at the full-length windows which looked out upon the field. the commissary, lined with cupboards for the storage of supplies, was in silver and blue, and arranged to gladden the heart of any girl. the sinks were of stainless steel and the large tables at which the lunches would be prepared were of a similar material. they went on to the classroom, which reminded jane of a similar room she had attended so many times at good samaritan. a score of study chairs were in the room and one whole wall was given over to a blackboard while on another wall was complete map of the entire federated airways system. "we'll have our first class right now," said miss comstock, "since i want to give you instructions on obtaining rooms in cheyenne." the girls sat down, sue, alice and grace grouped around jane. "as you know, headquarters of the stewardess service will be here," went on miss comstock, "and you are to regard cheyenne as your home. it will be necessary for you to find suitable rooms and you will be required to pay for these out of your regular salary. however, when you are at the other end of your trip, the line will see that you are properly domiciled." she paused for a moment as she picked up a sheet of paper from her desk. "i have made a survey of rooms in cheyenne," she continued, "and have approved all of the rooms listed below. they are in excellent homes, the rates are reasonable and i am sure you will find any of them pleasant. i want you to take the remainder of the day to locate your rooms and see something of cheyenne. we'll start actual classwork tomorrow morning at nine o'clock. now, if you will consult me individually, i will make room recommendations. cars owned by the line will take you into the city." jane turned toward alice and grace. "i think it would be nice if we could obtain two large rooms and you two would live with sue and me. it might cut down our room rent and with four of us living together, some one would be home most of the time." "my vote is yes," replied grace. "you can make it unanimous," smiled alice. "i only hope we'll be assigned to about the same runs so we can be at home at the same time." when miss comstock called her name, jane stepped forward and explained their plan. "of course i have no objections," said the chief stewardess. she looked at the list of prospective rooms on the sheet of paper in her hand. "i think i have just the rooms for you. mrs. dennis murphy has two fine rooms and a sleeping porch adjoining. she is a widow and anxious to get roomers." miss comstock wrote mrs. murphy's address on a slip of paper. "go there first. if you don't like mrs. murphy's, telephone me here and i'll give you some more suggestions." the girls found a field car waiting outside the main entrance of the administration building and the driver sped them toward the city. mrs. murphy lived on a side street in a square, two-story frame house. the yard was well kept and a broad, shady porch ran the full length of the front of the house. "i'll wait until you know whether you're going to stay," said the driver. jane seemed to be the self-appointed leader of the group and she hurried up the walk and knocked at the screen door. "come in," called a cheery voice from somewhere in the interior. jane hesitated for a moment. "go on in," sue urged, so jane opened the door and crossed the porch. "i'm in the kitchen with me hands in bread dough," explained the voice, in a rich, heavy irish brogue and jane knew that mrs. murphy in person was at home. a long hallway led past the living room and the dining room into the kitchen, a large well-lighted room. mrs. murphy, buxom and ruddy of cheek, looked up as jane entered. her hands were deep in bread dough. "well, goodness sakes alive," she exclaimed when she saw jane. "if i'd known it was a stranger, i'd have answered the door. i thought it was mrs. mcgillicuddy down the street, come to borrow something, for she's always running in of a morning, being short of this or that, and having to have a bit to get along until the delivery boy gets around." "oh, that's quite all right, mrs. murphy," smiled jane. "i'm one of the new stewardesses for the federated airways. there are three other girls here with me. we're looking for two double rooms and miss comstock at the field recommended you." "now that's right nice of her. she was here last week looking at my rooms and seemed to like them real well. if you'll wait a bit until i finish kneading down the bread, i'll take you right up. just make yourselves at home on the porch." jane rejoined her companions and informed them that mrs. murphy would be out as soon as the bread was safe. sue looked around the porch. everything was well-worn but comfortable. "after three years in a hospital this is luxury," she said, sinking down into a broad rocker. "from the little talk i had with mrs. murphy in the kitchen and the smell of things cooking in her oven, i think this will be a grand place to live," said jane. "maybe we'll be lucky enough to get some fresh bread and have bread and sugar," suggested grace, looking longingly toward the kitchen. in less than five minutes mrs. murphy, wearing a fresh apron, appeared from the dim shadows of the hallway. jane introduced each of the girls. "i'm happy to know you," mrs. murphy told them, and they felt that she really meant it. there was something homey and warm about mrs. murphy that touched the heart of each one. she led the way upstairs and to the rear of the house where two adjoining rooms opened onto a large sleeping porch. the rooms were large and airy, the beds were comfortable and the furnishings, though plain, were adequate. from the porch there was an excellent view of the distant mountains. mrs. murphy explained that the bathroom was just down the hall and that her only other roomer was the cashier of a downtown department store. the telephone, ringing insistently, summoned mrs. murphy downstairs and gave the girls an opportunity to talk about the rooms. jane went back to the sleeping porch to enjoy the view of the mountains. her mind was made up and she was quite willing to stay with mrs. murphy. "there isn't a whole lot of closet room," said grace, "and the furniture is rather plain." "but the rooms are large and pleasant and the sleeping porch will be grand," said sue. alice, who had been exploring the bathroom, brought back good news. "the bath is fine. lots of room, a huge tub with a shower, and two lavatories with plate-glass mirrors." "then i call for a vote," said sue. "mine is yes," said jane, returning from the porch. grace, alice and sue added their approval as mrs. murphy came puffing upstairs. "we like the rooms," jane told her. "how much is the rent?" "i've been getting $ a month," said mrs. murphy, "but times as they are, i'll rent them now for $ . that would be $ apiece and, of course, there's the privilege of doing your laundry in the basement." "how about meals?" asked alice. "i haven't been taking boarders for a year, but i guess i haven't lost my hand at setting a good table. it could be arranged." "then i think the price for the rooms is fair enough," said jane. "a driver with a field car is outside. we'll bring up our bags and our other luggage will have to be shipped in later." by the time they had unpacked their bags, it was well past lunch time and the delicious odor of freshly-baked bread floated upstairs from the kitchen. "that makes me realize that i'm really hungry," confessed sue. "i wonder how far it is to the nearest restaurant." from below came mrs. murphy's pleasant voice. "lunch is on the table, girls. it's not much, but it will save you a trip down town." they trooped downstairs to find the dining-room table set with appetizing food. there was a large plate of bread, so fresh from the oven it was still warm, and a bowl of honey. wisps of steam ascended from a large platter of hash at one end of the table while at the other was a bowl of fresh cottage cheese. a glass of milk was beside each plate and a platter filled with fruit centered the table. "this is grand of you, mrs. murphy," said sue. "i'm going to have bread and butter and sugar," cried grace. "it's been ages since i've had a treat like that." mrs. murphy eased her motherly bulk into the chair at the head of the table and smiled happily at the evident relish with which the girls ate lunch. there was no question about their having found pleasant quarters for their home while in cheyenne. chapter ten jane's first call the following days were busy ones for jane and her companions. long hours were passed at the field in the classroom and in the commissary where the girls underwent an intensive period of training. miss comstock was an exacting teacher, but a fair one and she was almost universally popular with the girls. only one, mattie clark, seemed to resent the strict discipline which the chief stewardess imposed. mattie, a black-haired, dark-eyed girl, answered miss comstock sharply on several occasions. once the chief stewardess reprimanded her recalcitrant pupil before the entire class. later mattie vowed that she would gain revenge. "what do you think of mattie's attitude?" asked sue as she stood outside the administration building with jane, grace and alice. "it's only going to cause trouble for mattie," replied jane. "miss comstock is fair. she's got a hard job in preparing a bunch of new girls for this work, but i think she's doing it well." "she gets pretty cross at times," put in alice. "you would, too, if you were asked as many dumb questions as she is," retorted jane. just then mattie joined them. she was still resentful over the reprimand from the instructor and was grumbling to herself. "that skinny piece of baggage isn't going to bawl me out in front of the class and get away with it," she told them, her black eyes snapping. "i've got some pull in the federated airways front office and i'm going to use it. maybe miss comstock will be working for me some day." "well, what do you think of that?" asked sue as mattie left them. "mattie's partially right. that is, she has some influence in the chicago office. her uncle is publicity director for federated, but i don't believe she'll ever be able to cause miss comstock any real trouble," was jane's opinion. "mattie has dreams of being chief stewardess," explained grace. "she told me the other day that she could certainly do a better job of handling this group than miss comstock." "well, i'm putting mattie down as a thorough trouble maker and the less i see and know about her the better i'll like it," said jane firmly. "i'll paddle right along with you," added grace. "mattie isn't headed in the direction i like." the girls had been too tired at night to even think of attending a show before but that evening they walked down town and enjoyed a movie. on the way home they stopped for sodas and it was late when they reached mrs. murphy's. jane was surprised to see their landlady waiting for them. "it's about time you were getting in," she exclaimed. "the field has been calling every fifteen minutes. miss comstock wants you to telephone her right away. next time you go to a show, let me know where you're going." "oh, i'm sorry it was so much trouble," said jane. "'twas no trouble," smiled mrs. murphy, "but the field has been very anxious to locate you." jane hastened to the telephone and put in a call for the airport. a summons at that time of night was puzzling for class work was over hours before and none of the girls had been assigned to regular duty. that was to come day after tomorrow, when the final minor alterations on their uniforms had been completed and the last test passed. the other girls crowded near the telephone, all of them anxious for the news from the field. the operations office answered promptly and jane gave them her name. the night manager poured his message into her ear in a staccato too fast for the other girls to hear. jane tingled all over as she listened and her reply was mechanical. "i'll be there right away," she promised. "where are you going right away?" demanded sue. "chicago," smiled jane, turning from the telephone and dashing upstairs two steps at a time. the other girls raced after to find jane in her room already pulling off her dress. "sue, get my uniform out," begged jane as she struggled with her dress, "and grace, see if you can find those new smoked-grey hose in the top drawer of the dresser. alice, run some water in the tub. i've got to be at the field in twenty minutes." "but what's it all about?" sue insisted as the girls rushed to help jane. "there's a special plane from the west coast going through to new york with mrs. van verity vanness, who is worth a billion or so, aboard. it's on a fast schedule for she is rushing to new york to the bedside of a son who is seriously ill. salt lake radioed that mrs. van verity vanness was anything but comfortable and the general manager has ordered a stewardess aboard to see what can be done to make her happier the rest of the way to chicago." "how lucky!" exclaimed sue. "why, you're getting the first assignment and you'll be flying nearly two days ahead of any of the rest of us." "i'm not so sure i'm lucky," replied jane as she splashed vigorously in the tub. "any woman who has as many millions as mrs. van verity vanness is bound to be mighty particular. it would be just my luck to have her sick all of the way in and have a complaint lodged against me." "but if she likes you and the service, she'll probably give you a real compliment," said sue. "and maybe a present," added alice. "now you're all getting too far ahead," protested jane. "i've got to get to the field first of all." when jane returned to her room, the girls had her uniform all ready for her to step into. the smoke-green serge fitted jane snugly and the beret perched at a pert angle on her brown hair. she adjusted the seams of the new hose and slipped into dark grey pumps which were a part of the uniform. with deft fingers she centered the green tie of her shirt-waist and stuck a fresh handkerchief in her left coat pocket. quick touches with the powder puff removed the shine from her nose and she gave her hair a final pat just as the horn on one of the field's cars blared outside. "stand still a minute," begged sue. "i want to get a good look at you." "there's no time for a dress rehearsal," smiled jane, but she turned around slowly so the others could see her in the complete outfit. "you look grand," whispered grace. "every pilot on the line will be in love with you before morning." "i won't see every pilot," retorted jane. "maybe not, but they'll hear about you," grace insisted. in the smoke-green uniform jane was indeed an attractive figure. the coat was cut smartly and there were fashionable box pleats in the skirt. the beret, set at a jaunty angle, had only one ornament, a pair of silver wings. shoes and hose to match the suit completed the ensemble. jane took a final glance in the mirror. what she saw there was pleasing and she ran downstairs, the others following her closely. "i'm off on my first trip," she called to mrs. murphy, who was reading in the front room. "i'll be in chicago tomorrow morning." "a safe trip, bless you," called mrs. murphy, who had taken an exceedingly motherly interest in the girls. "will you bring us back if we go to the field?" alice asked the driver of the airport car. "sorry, miss, but i'm through in fifteen minutes. this is my last trip to town." "just our luck," grumbled alice. "you'll have to start off on your first trip without an audience," she told jane. "i'd like to have you there, but maybe i won't be quite as nervous if i am alone," admitted jane. she entered the cab and the driver closed the door. sue stuck her head through the lower window. "when will you be back?" she asked. "i haven't the slightest idea. not until day after tomorrow at the earliest." the cab lurched ahead and with the good-byes of her friends ringing in her ears jane started for the field and her first assignment. chapter eleven an unexpected delay the airport was ablaze with light when the car pulled up at the administration building, which meant that mrs. van verity vanness' special plane was about to land. jane thanked the driver and hastened into the operations office on the first floor. a teletype was clicking out the latest weather reports and the radio operator was busy giving the pilot of the special plane final information on the wind and visibility at cheyenne. miss comstock, who had been talking to the night chief of operations, turned to jane. "i was afraid we weren't going to locate you," the chief stewardess said, visibly relieved at jane's arrival. "this is an important trip and i knew i could count on you to make a good impression." the night operations chief joined them. "this special is going through ahead of everything," he told jane, "and we can't have it delayed if mrs. van verity vanness gets air sick and they have to slow the schedule or set the ship down at some field to wait until she feels better. in other words, it's up to you to see that she is so comfortable from now on and so busy she won't have time to think about complaining." "is she ill now?" "salt lake said she looked like a ghost and rock springs just cussed when i asked him how she looked. one thing, we're going to get that special off this field and from then on it's up to you to see that mrs. van verity vanness holds together until we land in chicago." charlie fischer strolled in and glanced at the weather report coming in on the teletype. "plenty of visibility and a good tail wind. i'm going to take that three-engined demon up where there's plenty of room and ride it for all it's worth. you can put me down for about miles an hour from here to omaha," he told the night operations chief. "if you can do that, you'll whittle better than half an hour off the schedule we've worked out," said the night chief. charlie turned to jane. "you going along?" he asked. "it's my first regular trip." "means extra ballast," grumbled charlie. "extra ballast nothing," retorted the night chief. "our billion-dollar passenger is air sick and unless we put a stewardess aboard and get mrs. van verity vanness feeling better pronto, this flight will be a washout and about $ , will fly out of this airway's sock and you can imagine how the general manager would like that." "you mean we're getting $ , for this trip across the country?" asked charlie incredulously. "she paid before she started the trip in 'frisco, but if we don't land her in new york on time she'll stop payment on the check. so when you're in the air tonight just bend an ear to whatever this little lady has to say, for if you do some rough flying and the g. m. hears about it, one charlie fischer will have a lot of explaining to do." "the special's coming in right now," called the radio operator. they turned to the full-length windows which looked out on the field. the wing lights of the plane were swooping down and a moment later the big ship rolled down the runway and nosed toward the hangar. "i've got a complete kit ready," miss comstock told jane. "there's plenty of salad and hot coffee, fresh fruit, and i put in an extra thermos bottle of bouillon. i imagine your passenger is nervous and scared as much as anything. make her comfortable and talk to her. remember that the reputation of the stewardess service may depend on your work tonight." almost before the tri-motor had stopped rolling the ground crew, enlarged to speed the refueling of the special, was swarming over the plane. only five minutes had been allowed for the cheyenne stop and it meant fast work on the part of every man. jane and miss comstock hastened toward the cabin. as they reached it the co-pilot threw open the door. "for heaven's sake, hurry," he begged. "i'm afraid this woman is going to faint." jane got a glimpse of the white, drawn face of mrs. van verity vanness and she knew that she was going to be in for some busy minutes. the landing stage was wheeled up to the plane and jane hurried into the cabin. the one passenger aboard the special was clinging to the co-pilot and jane gently disengaged her arms and placed them about her own shoulders. mrs. van verity vanness was sobbing softly. "i'll never be able to go on. i'm too ill." jane didn't argue with her, but with the aid of miss comstock, helped the passenger out of the plane and into the cool, sweet night air. it was then that she got her first good look at the woman she was to care for on the trip to chicago. mrs. van verity vanness was between sixty-five and seventy. the cheeks were still full and bore few wrinkles, but the hands gave away the fact that mrs. van verity vanness was well past middle age. "i can't walk. don't make me," she begged. "we'll only take a few steps," said jane, her own strong arms supporting the older woman. "breath deeply and enjoy the air. don't think about flying." "but i've got to get to new york." there was a sob in the older woman's voice, and she shuddered as she looked at the hulking tri-motor. even a thought of returning to the plane struck terror into her heart. jane turned to miss comstock and whispered a suggestion. "don't let them start the motors until i give the signal," she said. "it may take quite a while to get her calm, but once she's back in the plane i think i'll be able to manage." miss comstock nodded and hurried away while jane guided her elderly passenger toward the stewardess' quarters. there, well away from the rush and confusion of the hangar, she made her comfortable while she put a pot of tea on the electric grill in the commissary. within five minutes jane had tea and wafers ready on a silver tray. she talked gaily about everything except flying and mrs. van verity vanness began to show a new interest in living. the tea was delicious and the wafers were appetizing. the wealthy passenger of the special drank two cups of tea and ate five of the wafers. jane heard a tap on the window and looked up to see charlie fischer making horrible faces at her and pointing toward his watch. the tri-motor was at least seven minutes late now. jane must do something at once. she picked up the tea tray and started for the commissary. "if you could go with me, i might attempt to continue the journey," said mrs. van verity vanness. "i can't bear the thought of going on alone." "but i am going with you," replied jane. "didn't they tell you?" "no. those pilots only flew faster and faster and i got sicker and sicker." "we'll let them fly as fast as they want to," smiled jane, "just as long as they have smooth weather. there's a delicious lunch, late papers and some magazines aboard the plane now. we'll return to the hangar, make ourselves comfortable in the plane, and tell them to go ahead. we'll be almost ten minutes late leaving here." "i'll go on," agreed the woman of millions, "but only because you are going with me." without showing too much haste, jane shepherded her passenger into the tri-motor. charlie fischer, still looking at his watch, gave her a black look as he climbed into the cockpit. jane made mrs. van verity vanness comfortable in chair no. , and then stepped back to the door where miss comstock was peering in. "everything all right?" asked the chief stewardess. "she's perfectly calm now," replied jane. "i'm sure we'll make chicago all right." "the general manager is fairly burning up the radio trying to find out about the delay here." "you can tell him that it took us the extra time to persuade mrs. van verity vanness to continue the trip," said jane. "good-bye and good luck," said miss comstock as she closed the door. jane made sure that the door was latched securely, stowed the hamper of food away in the pantry, and then hastened up to take a seat beside her passenger. the motors roared and the plane quivered to the pulse of their power. mrs. van verity vanness paled as the plane rolled forward, but jane took the hands of the elderly woman and held them in her own. almost before they knew it the plane was in the air, streaking away into the east in the race to make up the lost time. chapter twelve alarming news the lights of cheyenne faded rapidly as charlie fischer gunned the big transport hard. jane, watching the air speed indicator, saw it climb from to . it hovered there for several minutes and then started climbing again. in less than fifteen minutes they were up , feet and with a good tail wind boomed along at better than miles an hour. jane looked at her elderly companion. mrs. van verity vanness had her eyes closed tightly and jane spoke to her reassuringly. "it's a long ride to chicago," she said. "suppose we look through some magazines. then we'll have a cup of bouillon and sandwiches just before midnight and after that i'll tuck you in for the night." "tuck me in for the night?" asked mrs. van verity vanness. "why, i'll never be able to sleep." "i think you will. you can unfasten your safety belt now and i'll see what i can find in the way of magazines." jane returned a minute later with half a dozen copies of the latest magazines. she adjusted the reading light for her companion and mrs. van verity vanness, seeing jane so calm and casual, forced herself to overcome the fear of flying which had sickened her. she selected a magazine from the armful jane offered and settled herself comfortably in her seat. "i'm really commencing to enjoy it," she smiled, "but there's a bit of a draft around my feet." jane hurried back to the compartment where a supply of warm, woolly blankets were kept. selecting a pretty grey and pink one she wrapped it around the elderly woman's legs. with mrs. van verity vanness comfortable and apparently satisfied for some time, jane opened the cheyenne paper. she halfway expected to find a front page story on the dash across country of mrs. van verity vanness in a special plane for almost any activity of this multi-millionaire widow was worth a half column of space. instead, jane read the alarming news that a mail plane had been robbed early that morning by aerial bandits. the ship, a bertold single engined plane, had been shot down in southeastern iowa on the kansas city to chicago run and more than a hundred thousand in currency taken from the registered mail pouch which it carried. the pilot had been seriously wounded by the two bandits, who had used a machine gun to force the mail ship down. jane resolved right then and there to keep all of the papers away from mrs. van verity vanness. if aerial bandits were operating, it was entirely within the realm of possibility for them to attack a special chartered by a woman as wealthy as her companion. the tri-motor hurled through the night, the speed increasing as charlie fischer pushed it up another thousand feet to benefit by an even stronger tail wind at that altitude. they roared along at between and miles an hour, nearly miles above the usual cruising speed of a plane of that type. below them winked the revolving beacons which lighted the transcontinental airway at night. occasionally they sighted the dim gleams from some prairie town. mrs. van verity vanness let the magazine drop into her lap as she closed her eyes, now thoroughly relaxed and without fear of anything happening to the plane. it was : and jane leaned over and spoke to her companion. "i'll bring the bouillon and sandwiches right away. then you can go to sleep." mrs. van verity vanness nodded contentedly and jane went back to her pantry. the bouillon, golden brown, smelled delicious as it gurgled out of the thermos jug and the sandwiches were almost paper thin with a tasty filling of olives and salad dressing. jane put the lunch on a silver tray and carried it into the cabin where she placed it on a small portable table which she had put between the seats. "several hours ago i thought i'd never be able to eat again," smiled the woman of millions, "but this actually appeals to me." jane agreed, for miss comstock had personally prepared the lunch and it should be delicious. the bouillon was expertly flavored and the sandwiches were the kind that made even the daintiest eaters hunger for more. when the last sandwich had disappeared and the second cup of bouillon was only a memory, mrs. van verity vanness leaned back in her chair and smiled happily. "you're a wonder," she told jane. "i think i'll ask the company to send you clear through to new york with me." "our division only goes to chicago," replied jane, "but i'd be delighted to go on if the general manager approves." "i think he'll approve if i ask it. after all, i'm paying almost enough for this trip to buy one of their planes." jane removed the luncheon dishes, brought another blanket, adjusted the seat at a reclining angle and tucked mrs. van verity vanness away for the night. "we'll land at north platte, omaha, and iowa city," she said, "but there'll be no need for you to disturb yourself. i'll inquire for messages at each stop and waken you if there is any news." in less than five minutes mrs. van verity vanness was sleeping soundly and jane went back to her pantry to stow away the dishes she had used for their midnight lunch. the flasher which signaled that the chief pilot wanted to talk to her came on and jane walked ahead, careful not to disturb her passenger. the stewardess made her way past the baggage compartment and stuck her head in the pilots' cockpit. charlie fischer looked down at her. "how's our famous passenger?" he asked. "sound asleep," replied jane, "and she'll stay that way until morning if you'll use a little care in landing and taking off." "i'll drop this crate down like we were carrying eggs," promised charlie, "but don't you let her out of the plane. next time we may never be able to get her back on board." jane returned to the cabin where the only light was the one over her seat at the rear. her passenger was sleeping soundly and jane sat down and relaxed. the last two hours, from the time she had received the call to rush to the field, had been filled with a nervous tension. handling mrs. van verity vanness had required real tact and patience and jane had been so busy she hadn't had time to remember that this was her first trip as stewardess. up until now she had rather looked upon herself as a trained nurse called in to care for a nervous, irritable woman. at better than , feet the air was chilly even in the summer and jane got a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. she didn't dare sleep for fear mrs. van verity vanness would waken and call her. jane had hardly settled down to rest when the lights of north platte appeared far ahead and the throbbing of the motors eased off. charlie fischer set the plane down without a bounce and they rolled into the hangar. mrs. van verity vanness roused slightly and jane told her they were in north platte. the stop there took just a little better than four minutes and jane learned that there were no messages for her passenger. then they were booming east again with the next stop at omaha. jane settled down in her chair, wondering if her passenger had been serious when she mentioned taking her on to new york. what a lark that would be and how the other girls would talk. jane could just imagine mattie clark turning almost green with envy. the pilot found the favoring wind again and they sped from north platte to omaha in record time for the big tri-motor. at the omaha field reporters were waiting for the plane and jane was forced to go to the waiting room and answer their questions, for mrs. van verity vanness refused to see them. for five minutes she fended off the questions of the newspapermen, answering those she was free to. "better look out for the aerial bandits," they warned her. "think of the ransom they could demand if they captured your passenger?" "haven't they been captured?" asked jane. "no. they vanished after bringing down the mail plane in southeastern iowa. the last report said that they had been heading west. of course, that was early yesterday. they've landed at some out of the way field." jane thanked the reporter and turned back to the tri-motor, glad to get away from her questioners lest she show them how much she was disturbed. with the newspapers now broadcasting the cross-country dash of the wealthy mrs. van verity vanness, jane knew that the special was not safe with the aerial bandits still at large. chapter thirteen the black plane just before the tri-motor wheeled off the ramp at omaha, the radio operator at the field hurried up with a message. it was from new york, informing mrs. van verity vanness that her son was slightly improved and was looking forward to her arrival at his bedside. the little woman of the many millions looked at jane through tear-dimmed eyes. "he's my only son," she said. "he means so very much to me." jane nodded. she could understand, for in her years of training at good samaritan she had seen mother love put to many a severe and heart-breaking test and she knew how deep in a human soul it penetrated. reassured that her son was not losing ground, mrs. van verity vanness dozed again as the plane raced over western iowa. jane went ahead to the pilots' cockpit and leaned close to charlie fischer. "the airplane bandits are still at large," she told him. "i know it," he said. "we got a special warning at omaha. a strange ship was sighted over the des moines field half an hour ago and it answered the description of the bandit craft. two army planes that were making an overnight stop at fort des moines have gone up to see if they can trace it." "keep a close watch. i've got nearly a billion-dollar piece of humanity in the cabin." "orders are to land if we run into trouble." "but that would mean the capture and holding of mrs. van verity vanness for ransom," protested jane. "that's better than having us all shot down," snapped charlie. "you just mind things in the cabin and i'll run this end of the ship." "well," said jane with finality. "if i were a pilot and a bandit plane attacked me, i'd give them a real race before i landed." charlie started to reply but the co-pilot grabbed his arm and pointed over to the right. the lights of a plane, coming rapidly toward them, were plainly visible. charlie looked at them for a second and then snapped off the wing lights of his own plane. "get back into the cabin and turn off the lights there," he roared at jane. "here comes trouble." "how do you know?" asked jane. "there's no other ship but our own on this division tonight and those lights coming toward us aren't the riding lights on a night hawk." jane departed on the run, and snapped off the light in the cabin. it would be dawn in another half hour, but for the coming thirty minutes the tri-motor, running without lights, had a chance of escaping the other plane. the motors labored under a full charge of gas as the big ship rocketed along at miles an hour. once or twice the needle on the speed dial mounted above the mark, but charlie couldn't hold it there. jane watched the lights of the other plane. they didn't appear to be any nearer. perhaps the bandits, after spotting their quarry, would be content to wait until dawn and then make a quick thrust. the stewardess wondered if the pursuing plane was radio equipped for even as she left the pilots' cockpit, the co-pilot had been pouring out a warning of their danger. it was nerve-racking business as charlie fischer piloted the tri-motor with all of the skill of his big hands. in and out of clouds they dodged, now at , feet, and again at , , but always the relentless pursuit was with them. the sky lightened and jane knew that the crisis was near. she wanted to go ahead and talk with charlie and the co-pilot, but she didn't dare leave her passenger. mrs. van verity vanness yawned and threw off the blanket which had shielded her shoulders. she sat up and looked out into the gray light. jane answered her summons. "we're having company," said mrs. van verity vanness, pointing toward the other ship, a black biplane, which had drawn near. jane didn't dare tell her the truth about the other plane. "just some pilot up early," she said lightly, but her heart was far from feeling that way. their own plane dove sharply, and mrs. van verity vanness gasped and clutched the arms of her seat. "the morning air is a bit rough at times," explained jane reassuringly, but she knew all of the time that the quick dive had been a maneuver of charlie's to give them more time. she wondered about the army planes which had taken off from des moines. if their radio was working, they should arrive soon. "the pilot of that plane's acting queerly," said mrs. van verity vanness. "he seems to be waving at us." the light was better and jane looked at the black biplane. mrs. van verity vanness was right. they were being waved down and jane's heart went sick as she saw the snout of a machine gun sticking over the nose of the other craft. if charlie refused to comply with the order, it was plain they would be the target for machine-gun bullets. jane looked at the altimeter with sinking heart. they were down to , feet and dropping lower steadily. she scanned the country below for some sign of a city. there were plenty of small towns within range, but no large ones where an adequate police force could be assembled to aid them. mrs. van verity vanness did not appear alarmed. charlie stalled at , feet and jane saw the pilot of the other plane wave at them angrily. it was agonizing, for jane knew that once they were on the ground there would be no chance of escape. her passenger would be whisked away in the black plane, to be held for a fabulous ransom and a desperately ill man in new york would be without the sympathy of his mother at his bedside to help him through his illness. they were down to , feet and charlie fischer was hunting a good place to set down when death roared down out of the sky. two army planes, their machine guns spitting flame, hurled themselves at the black biplane. motors roaring wide open, pilots tense at the triggers, the avenging army craft arrived just as charlie nosed the tri-motor down for a landing. mrs. van verity vanness watched the scene with startled eyes and jane's heart pounded doubly fast. the bandit plane was trapped between the army ships. bullets ripped through the wings of the black craft as the pilot tried desperately to maneuver into position where the gunner in his forward cockpit could get his weapon into action. "what does it mean?" gasped jane's passenger. "it's a bandit plane that shot down a mail ship early yesterday in southeastern iowa," explained the stewardess. "but why was it following us? this plane had no mail." "it had you, which was vastly more important." "ransom?" jane nodded. "how long have you known we were in danger?" "ever since we caught sight of the black plane. we had a description of it at omaha and were warned by radio to be on the lookout." "but you didn't say a word to me." "there was no need to alarm you." the army planes were closing in on their quarry, darting in and out as the pilots directed blasts of fire at the bandit craft. the aerial desperadoes knew that they could hope for no quarter and they made one final attempt to escape, heading their plane in a mad dive toward one of the army ships. but the dive laid them open to the fire of the second army flyer, and he plunged down from above, his machine gun spitting flame. bullets traced through the wing of the black biplane, shattering the propeller. then the left wing of the biplane tore loose and the ship fluttered aimlessly for a moment before nosing down for the final plunge. mrs. van verity vanness cried out in horror and jane placed her hands over the older woman's eyes. finally the passenger turned from the window and looked at jane. "you're a brave, sweet girl," she said. "now i think i'll rest again." neither one mentioned the aerial duel they had witnessed as the special roared on to the pace of its quickened motors. jane prepared breakfast and while her passenger sipped the hot chocolate, the stewardess went up to the pilots' cockpit. "some dog-fight," said charlie fischer. "those army boys showed up just in time." "i suppose i should say it was terrible," said jane, "but knowing what those bandits would have done to my passenger, i feel they got just what was coming to them." "they had time to repent all of their sins on the way down," admitted charlie. "say, we're skipping des moines. got plenty of fuel to take us to iowa city." when they landed in the eastern iowa city, another message from new york reassured mrs. van verity vanness and she read most of the way into chicago. when they rolled up to the ramp of the chicago field, jane suggested that her passenger step out and walk a bit. "you'll feel much better," she assured her. mrs. van verity vanness agreed and jane assisted her out of the plane. reporters were clamoring at the gate, but a cordon of police kept them from the field. charlie fischer grinned as he went by. "i'm going over and be a hero," he chuckled, nodding toward the cameramen and reporters, who were hungry for the story of the escape from the bandits. the short, stocky figure of hubert speidel, personnel director of federated airways, emerged from the crowd and came toward them. he beckoned to jane and she left her passenger for a moment. "everything all right?" asked the personnel chief anxiously. "she seems to be enjoying the trip now," replied jane, "but she wants a stewardess to continue with her." just then mrs. van verity vanness took matters into her own hands. "i presume you are a company official," she said, addressing the director. he nodded. "please inform your general manager that i insist upon this young woman accompanying me to new york. she has done everything possible to make me comfortable and without her assistance i would have been unable to continue from cheyenne." "but miss cameron's division ends here," protested the personnel chief. "we'll have to put another stewardess aboard here." "i don't care a snap about divisions," said the woman of millions. "i want this stewardess. remember, there are other lines east of chicago." the personnel director promised to do what he could and hastened away. he was back in less than five minutes. "it's a little irregular," he said, "but miss cameron can go through to new york with you." fresh supplies were brought out and placed in the pantry, jane checking each item, for they would have lunch at noon aboard the plane and possibly a light supper just before they reached new york. a new crew of flyers took charge and exactly fifteen minutes after landing, the special roared away, with an entire nation watching its progress, for newspaper presses were spewing out extras by the thousands, telling the story of the attempt to abduct jane's passenger. chapter fourteen page one news the day was clear and warm, a beautiful june-time, and the special was soon speeding over the flat country of northern indiana. there was only one stop scheduled between chicago and new york, that at cleveland, where the tanks would be filled with fuel. jane prepared an appetizing lunch and mrs. van verity vanness ate it with evident relish as they skirted the south shore of lake erie. that over, she insisted that jane explain how she had happened to join the air line. the elderly woman was a good listener and jane told in detail of her last day at good samaritan and how miss hardy had recommended her for the position with the federated airways. "i'd never heard of stewardesses on the planes until you came aboard at cheyenne," said mrs. van verity vanness. "have you been flying long?" jane smiled for her passenger was going to be in for a surprise. "this is my first regular trip," she confessed. "all of the girls go into service tomorrow." "then i predict a fine future for you. why, i thought you were a veteran of hundreds of miles of flying." it was a sincere compliment and jane glowed inwardly. she had been so anxious to make a good impression on her first flight. at cleveland another message from new york reassured mrs. van verity vanness and again she was shielded from reporters. no one was allowed out on the ramp, but cameras clicked as jane stepped out of the cabin for a breath of air. then they were racing eastward again, with the next stop the newark airport. they flew high over the rugged alleghenies and then dropped down over jersey toward the metropolis. the end of the long flight was near and jane felt greatly relieved. mrs. van verity vanness summoned her as they swung over the newark airport. "wouldn't you like to join me, traveling as my nurse and companion?" she asked. it was a question that left jane speechless. she had never considered such a possibility. "as soon as my son is well, i plan to leave on a round-the-world trip. we would be gone a year." it was a tempting offer, almost irresistible, but the zest of flying was deep in jane and she shook her head. "i don't believe i would be happy leaving the air line now," she said. "there seems to be a real future for girls in aviation and i want to make the most of my opportunity." the other woman sighed. "i was afraid that would be your answer and you are probably right. but i've grown dreadfully fond of you. if there is anything i can do at any time, don't hesitate to call on me." "thank you," said jane. the plane rolled to a stop in the newark hangar of the federated line and a huge limousine with two motorcycle officers flanking it, drew up to the cabin door. "good-bye, my dear," said mrs. van verity vanness as she stepped into the limousine to be whirled away toward new york to the tune of screaming sirens. jane was a little breathless. it had been such an exciting trip all the way from cheyenne. now she wondered just when she would start back. an official hurried toward her. "reporters are almost tearing the waiting room to pieces," he said. "they couldn't see mrs. van verity vanness but they insist on talking with you. you'd better tell them what happened this morning." "but i don't know what to say," protested jane. "just answer their questions." in the waiting room a dozen men of assorted ages, and three women, awaited jane. the moment she entered they started firing questions at her. "how had mrs. van verity vanness acted when the bandit plane swooped down on them? how had jane felt? what had she served her passenger at mealtime? had mrs. van verity vanness commented on the financial situation?" it was a steady barrage and jane's head whirled as she tried to answer them all. finally she threw up her hands and sank down in a chair in despair. "can't you see i'm all tired out?" she cried. "please let me alone." she buried her head in her arms and her body shook with the sobs of nervous exhaustion for the strain of the long flight and caring for the wealthy passenger had been more than jane had realized. "she's a plucky kid," she heard one reporter say as the newspaper people trooped out of the room. in a few minutes jane felt more composed and she went into the operations office. "what time do i start west?" she asked the chief dispatcher. "all of the space is taken until the : west in the morning. you'd better take a cab to a hotel and get some sleep." then jane remembered that she was without funds. it was their first pay day in cheyenne, but she was hundreds of miles from there. "i guess i'll just wait here until the plane goes," she said. the dispatcher was busy and failed to notice jane's fatigue or he might have guessed that she was in an embarrassing situation. jane washed her face and hands and walked outside to watch the sun go down behind the jersey hills. she was hungry, but the tri-motor she had come in on had been trundled away to a distant hangar and there was little chance that she could find it and rummage through the pantry for anything to eat. jane skimmed through the magazines in the waiting room and selected one on aviation. she had hardly settled herself when a young woman burst into the room. "where's jane cameron?" demanded the newcomer. "i'm jane cameron," replied the stewardess. "what a break! i'm ruthe harrigan, special writer for the _new york globe_. late as usual in getting my assignment. afraid i had missed you. how about your story? sold it to anyone yet?" "why, no," stammered the surprised jane. "i talked to a number of reporters but they didn't say anything about paying me." "they wouldn't," snorted the newcomer. "let's hop outside and get a bite to eat. then we'll make a deal for your first-person story of the battle with the bandits." ruthe harrigan led jane to a comfortable restaurant only a block from the hangar and after sizzling steaks had been served, plied jane with questions. "i'm after a first-person story of what happened on your trip in," she explained. "we'll pay you well for permission to use your name above the story." "but what would mrs. van verity vanness and company officials say?" "i'll call the federated publicity office," said the energetic ruthe. jane talked to the new york publicity head of federated, and he approved of the story. another call to mrs. van verity vanness brought her consent. "make them pay a good price," she advised jane. dinner over, they hastened back to the federated hangar where the reporter borrowed a typewriter. "now tell me everything that happened and how you felt." "but we haven't agreed on a price," said jane. "how about $ ?" "that doesn't seem enough. won't this be front page news?" "i should say it will. every other new york paper will probably turn green with envy." "then $ isn't enough." "i might be able to get $ ," urged the reporter. "don't take less than $ ," advised the night dispatcher. "if the _globe_ won't pay it, call some of the other papers. they will." in desperation, ruthe harrigan called her editor and before jane gave her a line of copy, a check for $ was in the hands of the stewardess. it was more money than jane had ever had before and she fingered the check carefully. now she could go to a hotel, have the finest room, enjoy the choicest food, and still have what to her was wealth. for two hours ruthe harrigan plied her with questions while she beat a heavy tattoo on the typewriter. when she was through she had nine pages of copy to send to her office. "it's a good story," smiled the reporter, "even if you did make us pay through the nose for it." jane cashed her check at the field and had it converted into travelers' checks of small denominations. then she took a taxi to a recommended hotel and by o'clock was sound asleep, while across the river in new york the presses of the _globe_ were rolling out her own story of the encounter with the aerial bandits. chapter fifteen "hello heroine" jane was up at seven the next morning and a few minutes later, went down to breakfast. in the lobby she purchased copies of all of the morning papers and went into the grill for breakfast. an excellent picture of herself stared up from the front page of the _globe_ and underneath the picture was a two column headline informing _globe_ readers that they were about to read jane cameron's own story of the battle with the bandits. jane flushed and looked up to make sure no one had recognized her. but there were only a few at breakfast at that hour and she read the story from opening paragraph to the final dash. jane had to admit that ruthe harrigan had done an excellent job of writing. the story was thrilling, from start to finish. after breakfast jane bought half a dozen copies of the _globe_, paid her hotel bill, and took a taxi to the field. a pass was ready for her and the : was on the line, warming up for the trip west. a messenger approached jane with a message and she signed for it. inside was a brief note from mrs. van verity vanness expressing her appreciation and with it a check, "a little token of my gratitude," wrote jane's passenger. the stewardess' eyes blinked as she looked at the check. it was for one thousand dollars! jane's knees felt weak and she grasped a nearby handrail for support. a thousand dollars! why, it didn't seem possible. but it was possible, for a thousand dollars was only pin money to the millions which mrs. van verity vanness controlled. jane felt almost uncomfortably rich. there had been $ for selling the story and now the thousand dollar check. she had spent less than $ for her room, breakfast, taxi fare and the papers. why she would have at the very least $ , when she returned to cheyenne. it seemed unbelievable but she had the checks. the day chief of operations at newark came up. "there's a sound crew from a news reel outside. they want you to pose and say a few words. it's good publicity for the line." jane was glad that it was almost time for the plane to depart, for facing a movie camera was a real ordeal. her mouth went dry and chills ran along her back as the sound man held the microphone close. somehow she managed to say a few words, and then she hurried back to the : . two minutes later the big tri-motor was roaring west, and late that night jane would be back at cheyenne. there was a strong headwind and they seldom got above a hundred miles an hour, with the result that they were more than an hour late when they reached chicago. jane changed planes there and had a lunch at the field. then the tri-motor sped westward again. there was a light passenger list, only nine aboard the fourteen-passenger craft, and none of them recognized jane, for which she was grateful. night came as they roared over the rich farm lands of iowa and from omaha west, jane dozed, lulled by the rhythmic beating of the three great engines. the wind increased in force as they neared the rockies, and the speed was well under a hundred an hour. as a result, it was nearly three o'clock when the lights of cheyenne showed far ahead, under the left wing. jane roused herself and straightened her uniform. she wondered if the girls would be at the field. the big plane glided noiselessly out of the night into the glare of the floodlights. when it rolled into the hangar jane peered anxiously toward the waiting room. sure enough, sue, grace and alice were there, all of them fairly dancing in their anxiety to greet her. the young stewardess was first out of the tri-motor, and she ran to meet her friends. "hello heroine," said sue, as she threw her arms around jane in an affectionate embrace. "welcome home," added alice, while grace added, "let's see what the new york papers said about you." miss comstock, who had been in the background, came up and greeted jane warmly. "you've done a wonderful piece of work for the stewardess service," she said. "mrs. van verity vanness sent the general manager a long telegram today, highly recommending the service and especially complimenting you. i'm sure that as a result of your outstanding work, we're all assured of jobs for a long time to come." "but i didn't do anything unusual," protested jane. "i simply did my job as i had been trained to do it, in the hospital and here at the field. it was nothing more than what will soon be routine to every one of us." "not every one of us will have bandits attack our plane the first time we're out, nor will we be carrying a woman who can sign her name to a check for a million dollars and know that she can cash it," put in grace. jane looked at her wrist watch. it was just three o'clock. "we'd better hurry home if we plan to get any sleep tonight," she said. "you can go home," said grace, "but alice and i are ordered out on the eastbound mail. it's coming through in two sections from the coast this morning, and will be here in another fifteen minutes." "then i'll stay and see you off," said jane. "fifteen minutes, more or less, won't make much difference at this time of night." miss comstock was busy in the commissary, checking supplies which were to go aboard the eastbound planes and the girls all lent her a hand. they plied jane with questions about the trip, the encounter with the bandits, and how she had gotten along with mrs. van verity vanness. "she's an old dear," said jane. "i don't care what the newspapers say about her, she certainly treated me splendidly, and just as we got to new york she invited me to accompany her as nurse and companion. she's planning a round-the-world trip as soon as her son recovers." "and you turned that down?" "i should say i did. why, i wouldn't trade this job of mine for almost anything else in the world. you'll feel the same way before you're half way through your first regular flight as stewardess. there's a thrill to flying that can't be found in anything else." "i'm willing to be shown," said grace. the planes from the west came in on time, both of them loaded to capacity. new crews took over the controls at cheyenne and grace and alice stowed the food away in the pantries. they checked their passenger lists and when the planes were refueled, called their passengers aboard. "good luck," called jane and sue as they stood on the ramp and watched the big ships wheel out of the hangar. then the planes roared away into a greying sky, which heralded the coming of another dawn. a field car was available to take them to town and miss comstock joined them. "are you going to come out and see every ship off?" asked jane. "i should say not, but with all of the girls assigned to go out within the next hours, i want to see that they get started right. after that, they'll be on their own." "what assignment do we get?" asked sue. "you will be on the _night flyer_ while jane is to take the _coast to coast limited_. you'll go out tonight, while jane's first trip is tomorrow morning." "then i'll plan to do plenty of sleeping in the next few hours," said sue. "the _night flyer_ means a slow trip to chicago for it stops at every airport." mrs. murphy heard them come in, and appeared with her hair done up in curl papers and a faded kimono wrapped around her ample bulk. she insisted on going down and fixing a lunch, and over the kitchen table jane spread out the new york papers. they read the stories, in great detail, and mrs. murphy appeared immensely pleased at the great publicity given to jane's fine work. "i could tell the minute i laid eyes on you, that you'd be a winner," she said proudly. "now you'd best both be off to bed, for it's circles you'll be having under your eyes if you don't." they thanked mrs. murphy for the lunch and hurried upstairs to undress and crawl between crisp, cool sheets just as the sun came over the horizon. mrs. murphy came in later and adjusted the curtains on the porch, and the girls slept until mid-afternoon. sue, about to make her first flight alone, was nervous and excited. she fussed over the way her uniform fitted her trim figure and worried about what she would do if any of the passengers became ill. "just forget you're in a plane and think about ward duty back in good samaritan, then you'll know what to do," advised jane. they had supper with mrs. murphy and then a car from the field called for them. the _night flyer_ was due at ten o'clock, but sue had at least an hour's work in the commissary and she wanted to have plenty of time. miss comstock, looking rather worn and tired, was still on duty and mattie clark was also at the field, looking very neat and business-like in her uniform. "there's two sections tonight on the _flyer_," mattie informed sue. "i'm going out on the first section and you'll take the second." "sue is assigned on the first section," said miss comstock, who resented mattie's infringement of her authority. "you take no. ." "but i want to be in chicago early," protested mattie. "both ships will be there within five minutes of each other. besides, sue is to be on the _flyer_ regularly, and she might just as well get acquainted with the regular pilots who are on that run." mattie was silent, but it was obvious that she was anything but pleased at miss comstock's decision, and jane knew more than ever, that mattie was going to cause trouble for everyone else in the ranks of the stewardess corps. chapter sixteen through the fog the first section of the _night flier_ came in from the west three minutes ahead of schedule and with a capacity load. while the passengers stretched their legs and visited about the flight over the mountains from salt lake, sue stowed her kit away in the pantry. with departure time at hand, she forgot the nervousness which had gripped her earlier and became a calm, self-contained nurse. "the best of luck," whispered jane as she squeezed her friend's hand. sue herded her passengers into the cabin and closed the door. the landing stage was wheeled away and the _night flyer_ lumbered out of the hangar on the first lap of the long flight to chicago. jane watched the lights of the plane until they were pin-points in the east. it was sue's task to make her passengers comfortable for the night and she went along the aisle, adjusting seats, turning off lights, and bringing out the thick, warm blankets from the supply closet. in half an hour she had the task completed and only one passenger, an elderly man, had elected to read, selecting a cheyenne paper with the latest news. as they sped east, sue wondered at her own nervousness which had been so evident before the flight. now everything seemed so matter-of-fact. she felt as though she had been flying for years. a woman who had come through from 'frisco was getting off at north platte and sue roused her just before they swooped down on the field. in ten minutes they were away again, with a radio order to stop at grand island to pick up a passenger for chicago and another coast passenger would disembark at lincoln. the _night flyer_ made most of the local stops, and as a result was anything but popular with the pilots. most of the new men on the line drew the thankless job of piloting the _flyer_, and the crew of sue's ship had been on only a little more than a month. with a fair tail wind, they kept on time despite all of their stops, and they soared away from omaha and over the muddy missouri a few minutes after two a.m. with a new crew of pilots up ahead. the stewardesses made the entire trip from cheyenne to chicago, but the pilots changed at omaha, unless piloting a special. it was over this stretch of the line that jane had encountered the thrilling experience which had brought her front page fame in every newspaper in the country and sue looked out, halfway in the hope that something unusual enough to bring her fame, would happen. but her hopes were doomed, and they went into des moines on time. the only field they missed was at iowa city, and they sped over that one shortly after sunrise. east of the mississippi, they lost the sun in a murk of smoke and fog. sue's light flashed, and she went forward to answer the call from the chief pilot. "weather around chicago's bad," he said. "we may not be able to get through, so stall the passengers off if they get anxious about the time we're due in chicago." "but what will i tell them?" asked sue. "that's your job. all i do is run this crate." like jane, sue was finding out that pilots who on the ground were the pleasantest and most friendly flyers, were more than likely to be martinets when they were at the controls of a big passenger plane. sue took the rebuff good naturedly. of course it was her job to keep the passengers from being alarmed. franklin grove was the last of the emergency landing fields she saw, before the "soup" swallowed them and they looked out into a solid wall of rushing grey, so thick it almost hid the wings. passengers looked anxiously toward sue, and one or two of them summoned her. to their questions, she replied as truthfully as she could that they had struck a bit of bad weather, but that the radio beacon was guiding the pilot and they expected to soon be out of the fog and into clear weather. that explanation satisfied them for the first half hour, but after that sue found herself in trouble and a rising fear gripping her own heart. the questions the passengers asked were more difficult to answer. why weren't they out of the fog? they were late now getting into chicago. did the pilot know where he was? why couldn't they land and wait for the bad weather to clear? sue answered them as best she could and tried to remain calm, putting on the best professional manner of a trained nurse. her signal light glowed again and she went forward. the chief pilot looked years older. "we're in trouble," he told her frankly. "i've lost my radio bearings and the gas is getting low. have your passengers fasten their safety belts and see that there is no smoking. if we crash we don't want any extra risk of fire." sue returned to the cabin, hoping desperately that her face would not give away the gravity of their situation when she asked the passengers to put on their safety belts. she went from one to another, adjusting the belts, and informing them that they were about to land, but she didn't add that it was likely to be a crash landing. when everyone was fastened to the seats, sue reported to the chief pilot. "get back in the cabin. we're going down," he said curtly. sue watched the altimeter. the needle dropped gently from the , feet at which they had been flying, but the wall of fog still enveloped the earth. they nosed through it carefully, the air speed cut down to a hundred miles an hour. even that speed was a terrific one at which to crash into the ground. sue was too busy thinking about her passengers to sense her own emotions. for five minutes the pilot groped his way down and suddenly the nose of the big ship shot through the fog. the plane flattened out feet above the ground and skimmed along over farmhouses with the motors roaring heavily. suddenly the ship heeled over and for a sickening instant, sue thought they were crashing until she caught sight of an airport and knew the pilot was sliding in for a fast landing. as the plane touched the ground the motors sucked the last fuel from the tanks. the tri-motor rolled up to the hangar and sue looked at the name painted above the large doors. they had come down at joliet, nearly thirty miles south of their course. the pilot came back. "weather's still bad around chicago," he announced. "we'll have taxis here in a few minutes to take you in." sue helped her passengers collect their hand baggage and sheperded them into the taxis. in half an hour the last one was safely away for chicago, and sue had time to sit down and have a little cry all by herself. they remained at joliet until mid-afternoon, when the fog cleared and they hopped the short distance to the field at chicago. it was then that sue learned that the second section of the _night flyer_ was down at sterling, illinois, with the weather west of chicago still foggy and little chance of it clearing before mid-evening. sue could imagine the wrath of mattie clark, who had been anxious to reach chicago that morning. sue went to the office of the personnel director to be assigned quarters while in chicago and learned that the line had leased two apartments nearby which would accommodate eight girls. they could cook their own meals there or go out to restaurants as they preferred, since the line's only obligation was to domicile them while at the chicago end of their runs. "i talked with some of the passengers who came as far as joliet with you," said the personnel chief, "and they gave me some fine reports of your calmness. i feel that i owe miss hardy at good samaritan a letter of real appreciation for the girls she recommended." after leaving the personnel office, sue looked at the bulletin board. the _coast to coast limited_ with jane aboard would be in at five o'clock and she decided to wait for her. sue enjoyed a late lunch at the restaurant and then walked out on the ramp to watch the arrival and departure of the planes. a crimson monoplane was being loaded for a run to kansas city, while a trim, blue biplane was waiting for four passengers for detroit. it all seemed so matter-of-fact, and sue knew that after her flight through the fog that morning she would never again be afraid of flying. chapter seventeen an ultimatum to mattie sue met jane when she stepped off the _coast to coast limited_ and together the girls went to the apartments which had been leased by the air line. they were in chicago for the night. sue booked out early the next morning and jane later in the day. grace and alice, also in chicago, had been down town shopping that afternoon, but they all met at the apartment. there was an attractive kitchenette, but the girls were tired and they had dinner at a nearby restaurant. later they walked to a neighborhood movie where they enjoyed the feature program. when they returned to the apartment, mattie clark was there, still mad at the long delay which had kept her away from chicago. "imagine having to stay out at the emergency field at sterling almost all day," she stormed. she turned on sue angrily. "if you hadn't been so pig-headed back in cheyenne, i'd have been on the first section and at least arrived during the daytime." "you can thank me you weren't on the first section," replied sue calmly. "we got lost and were coming down for a crash landing when the fog cleared at joliet and we sneaked down there. i was scared to death." mattie looked at sue skeptically. "you don't seem to believe me," said sue. "well, it's a good story," said mattie. jane's anger had mounted steadily and it got away from her. "that's enough, mattie. we might as well have it out right now. i think you're mean and small. you're doing everything you can to make it unpleasant for miss comstock, and now you're insulting sue, because you know sue is too even-tempered to fight back. now just get out of here and after this keep out of my way." mattie was furious and her face flamed with anger, but before she could reply, alice stepped in. "what jane said goes for grace and me," she said. "the less we see of you, the better." "you'll all be sorry for this," flared mattie as she slammed the door and went into the apartment across the hall. "i'm sorry this had to happen," jane told the others, "but mattie is out for trouble and she's going to get it. from now on keep your eyes open, for she'll trick you if she can." the stewardesses soon settled into the routine of the flights from cheyenne to chicago and return. it was interesting, pleasant work. jane banked the money she had received from the new york paper and from mrs. van verity vanness and when charlie fischer asked her if she'd like to take lessons in flying, she had the money necessary. charlie had a biplane at cheyenne and between flights with the huge federated planes, amused himself by hopping around the countryside and giving lessons to whatever pupils he could pick up. of the stewardesses, jane was the only girl who decided to take lessons. whenever she and charlie were at cheyenne, he took her up for flights, explaining the principles of aeronautics and letting her get the feel of the plane. one afternoon they flew to denver and back, and on another occasion, went to laramie. jane was blessed with air sense. when she had her hands on the control stick, she could almost anticipate every movement of the plane and charlie praised her aptitude warmly. the days rolled into mid-summer and july in cheyenne was hot. it was refreshing to seek the coolness of the upper air in the late afternoon and jane spent as much extra time aloft as she could afford. then came the afternoon for her solo flight. the government inspector arrived and took his place in the rear cockpit. charlie fischer looked up and grinned. "just forget the guy back there," he said, "and you'll get along fine." jane's throat tightened. going up with a government inspector was quite different from going up with charlie. she opened the throttle and the biplane shot across the sun-baked field. jane was glad the other girls were out on the line, for it would be embarrassing to come down and face them if the inspector should turn her down. she lifted the biplane into the air and got altitude in easy circles over the airport. then she started through the routine. as the thrill of the flight got into her blood, she forgot the inspector in the rear cockpit and gave her every energy to piloting the plane. with grace and skill, she directed the maneuvers until the inspector reached ahead, tapped her on the shoulder, and nodded toward the ground. jane cut the motor and they drifted down. charlie fischer was the first to reach the plane. "how about it?" he asked the inspector. "just about perfect," smiled the government official. "then i'll get my license?" jane asked breathlessly. "there's no question about that. i'm giving you an exceptionally high rating. your license will be through shortly." it was another ten days, before the precious card with her license arrived from washington and jane showed it proudly to her roommates. "it's nice," admitted sue, "but what on earth will you do with it? you haven't a plane and you can't afford to rent charlie fischer's." "i honestly don't know," confessed jane, "but i wanted it. some day i'll be glad that i have the license and the ability to fly a plane." mattie clark was still causing trouble. any other girl who so rankly showed her insubordination would have been fired within a week, but the fact that mattie's uncle was a company official saved her time and again. she knew she was treading on thin ice, but she seemed to take whole-hearted enjoyment in making miss comstock and the other girls miserable. jane was her special hate. jane was still on the _coast to coast_, the crack run of the line, and summer had slipped over into august. a burning wind swept down out of the mountains and it was hot that morning when the eastbound _coast to coast_ drifted in. mattie had been assigned to a westbound plane for the day, and was in the commissary while jane checked over her supplies. as usual, mattie made as many caustic remarks as possible, but jane refused to answer. jane finished preparing the supplies to place aboard the plane and went out to call a field boy to help her carry the large hamper. when she returned with the boy, mattie was still in the commissary and jane looked at her sharply. mattie flushed, but jane thought nothing more of the incident. the _coast to coast_ was loaded and jane sat on the jump seat at the rear of the plane. it was the usual crowd--a second-rate movie actress, several new york traveling men with flashy clothes, an elderly lady called east by a death in the family and the rest business men and women who had taken the plane to save time on their trip east. jane made sure that everyone had traveling kits, answered several questions about the weather ahead, and checked over her passenger list to see that everyone was in the proper seat. the ship rolled out of the hangar and swept away into the east. jane picked up the magazines and went along the aisle, offering them to passengers who cared to read. most of them preferred to gaze at the landscape below. they were east of grand island when jane prepared lunch, serving sandwiches, a cool salad and an iced drink she had brought in a large thermos jug. it was early afternoon when they cleared omaha, with a stop scheduled ahead at des moines, the last one until chicago. council bluffs had barely dropped out of sight when jane began to feel ill. just then a woman called her. she was feeling uneasy and jane gave her a soda tablet. she had hardly returned to her seat when everyone appeared stricken at the same moment. her passengers became deathly ill and jane herself was so sick she could hardly move. she managed to stagger ahead to the pilots' cockpit and told them of what had happened. the big ship was turned about at once, roaring back for omaha, while the co-pilot sent out a rush call for ambulances and doctors to meet it at the field. by the time the tri-motor reached the omaha field, jane was too ill to move and everyone in the cabin was carried out and taken to the hospital for treatment. just before she left the field, jane spoke to the chief pilot. "save the lunch," she whispered. "it must have been that." he nodded and hurried away to see what he could find in the pantry. somehow the omaha papers got hold of the story, and printed it on their front pages. as a result hubert speidel, the personnel chief, hurried out from chicago on the first plane to make an investigation, and it was at jane's request that he had the food analyzed. shortly after that he ordered an investigation to be held at cheyenne and jane, still weak from her sudden illness, wondered what he had learned. chapter eighteen sue plays detective jane, who had been the most seriously ill of those aboard the _coast to coast limited_, was in the omaha hospital three days. she was far from well when she boarded a westbound plane for the inquiry at cheyenne. the incident had brought unfavorable publicity to the line, and the personnel director was determined to get at the bottom of it. the investigation was held in the administration building of the cheyenne airport. in addition to mr. speidel, miss comstock was there, the pilots who had been on the plane, and sue. jane was questioned first. "did you prepare the food which was placed aboard the plane that day?" the personnel chief asked her. "not all of it," she replied. "the salad was supplied by the caterer, but i made the sandwiches and prepared the iced tea." "did anyone else touch the food?" "not that i know of." "was anyone else in the commissary while you were working?" continued the personnel director. jane was about to reply that she was alone when she remembered that mattie had been there. "mattie clark was there," she said, wondering just what mr. speidel was attempting to learn from her. "you know what caused the illness aboard the plane?" he went on. "it was a strong irritant of some kind," she replied, "but i wasn't told at the hospital just what it was." the personnel director switched to another track. "you wouldn't have had any reason to place anything in the food, would you?" jane's face flushed, and it was a struggle to keep from showing her intense anger, but she finally managed to reply "no," in a calm voice. "do you know anyone who would do it as a grudge against you?" "that question is hardly fair," retorted jane. "if i mention any names i might unjustly throw suspicion on someone who is not guilty." through her mind, though, raced thoughts of mattie and her promise of revenge. mattie had been alone in the commissary long enough to dope the sandwiches or the salad, and she was capable of stooping to such a low trick. no matter what happened, as a result of the investigation, jane resolved to see mattie and have a talk with her. "what do you know about this, miss comstock?" asked the personnel director, turning to the chief of the stewardess service. "very little, but i am sure that miss cameron is being treated very unfairly if anyone thinks she deliberately planned such a distressing incident as the one which took place aboard the _coast to coast_ the other day." "but isn't it true that miss cameron is one of your favorites?" "i am no more partial to her than to the other girls. it happens that she is a most efficient and personable stewardess. i only wish that all of the girls were as capable as she." the pilots also spoke a good word for jane, but she knew she was in a tight spot. someone had prejudiced the personnel director against her and she strongly suspected the fine hand of mattie clark, working through her uncle. then sue took a hand in the proceedings. "i've been doing a little investigating on my own account," she said. "it may interest you to know that a member of the stewardess staff bought the drug which was used to cause the illness aboard the plane." "what do you know about this?" demanded mr. speidel. "enough to clear jane of any part in it," replied sue. "i have a sworn statement from the druggist who made the sale. he knows the stewardess who made the purchase and named her in the affidavit." sue waved the paper and the personnel chief seized it eagerly. "i think this investigation is over," he said as he finished reading the affidavit. "i am sorry, miss cameron, to have caused you any embarrassment." once outside, jane hugged sue enthusiastically. "you were a peach to do that piece of sleuthing," she said. "for a while it looked like i was in a tight place." "but you haven't asked me who bought the drug," said sue. "i don't need to. it was mattie. i remembered seeing her in the commissary the other day. honestly, i hardly thought mattie would stoop to such a trick. why, think what would have happened if the pilots had eaten any of that lunch." "i did," replied sue, "which is one reason why i went sneaking around the drug stores in cheyenne. mattie was pretty sure of herself for she bought it in the store where we usually go for our sodas. the druggist didn't want to give me an affidavit, but when i threatened to swing all of the stewardess trade to the store across the street he decided to sign." they were having dinner that night at mrs. murphy's when alice, just off a run from the east, came in. "guess who i saw leaving the field?" she said. "mattie clark," replied jane. "you're a mind-reader. it was mattie and she was going as a passenger. what's up?" sue told alice briefly what had taken place during the afternoon. "serves mattie right," said alice. "everything will be smoother now that she's gone. but i've got some news none of you will guess." "don't keep us waiting too long," smiled jane. "roscoe james, the famous film director, came out on the plane from chicago." "that's nothing. frederic march flew east with me the other day and never even looked at me," said sue. "yes, but roscoe james stopped here." "which means what?" asked jane. "his company, the mammoth, is going to film an air story with the cheyenne field for the background." chapter nineteen needed--one pilot jane and sue looked at alice incredulously. "do you mean to stand there and tell me that roscoe james and the mammoth film company are going to make a motion picture here at the cheyenne field?" demanded sue. "i'm not going to stand and tell you," sighed alice, dropping into a chair. "i'm going to ease my weary legs, but at the same time, i'll repeat that the local field is going to be used for the background of the next roscoe james feature production." "maybe we'll get a chance to work as extras," gasped sue. "about all we can hope to do is to be on the sidelines looking on," said alice. "mr. james was talking to the operations manager when i left the field. the company will be here next week to start work on the outdoor scenes, all of which will be filmed here." "what luck for me," put in jane. "i've only one round trip to chicago scheduled. that means i'll have most of the week here, where i can watch the company at work." "and if they need a cook, maybe it will be my chance to get in the movies," added mrs. murphy as she hurried in from the kitchen. little of the girls' conversation escaped mrs. murphy and she had kept an ear finely tuned to their talk about the coming of the film company. jane was scheduled east the next morning on the _coast to coast_. just before the ship came in from salt lake city, she saw the famous film director in conference with the operations manager. with them was charlie fischer. after a time he ambled over to talk with jane. "going to be great doings here," grinned charlie. "i'm in the movies already." "what are you going to do?" "they've got to have some stunt flying and they can't afford to have the leading man risk his neck. i'm elected to pilot the ship. means a lot of fun and quite a few extra shekels." "try and get me a job as an extra," urged jane. "i'll do my best, but the star might object." when jane returned from chicago a part of the technical crew had arrived and equipment was being set up at the field. every girl in the stewardess corps was hopeful that she might be selected for some extra role for all of them secretly cherished the desire to be a film star. grace, coming in from the west on a late plane, rushed in and woke them. "who do you suppose came in with me?" she gasped. "probably gary macklin," said sue, naming the latest hollywood favorite. "good guess," said grace. "do you mean gary macklin is going to have the leading role in the picture here?" demanded alice, now thoroughly awake. "that's just what i mean, and his leading lady is going to be claudette barrett. she came in on the same plane." "my favorite combination," breathed sue. "i think i'll ask for a leave of absence." "not much chance of your getting that, for business on the line is picking up every day," said jane. "you should comment, with only one trip scheduled next week. how about trading schedules?" "i should say not. i'm just as anxious as you are to see how a film is made," smiled jane. "does anyone know what the story is about?" alice asked. "i heard mr. macklin and miss barrett talking about it when we stopped at rock springs. miss barrett is going to have the role of a stewardess and mr. macklin plays the part of the ace pilot of the line." "charlie fischer should have that role," put in sue. "charlie's going to do the stunt flying," said jane. "if miss barrett's going to be a stewardess, we ought to see quite a bit of her," alice said hopefully. "if there's anything dangerous to be done, we might even get a chance to double for her." more members of the cast of "the sky riders," as the film was tentatively titled, arrived over the week-end and on monday morning the company was ready to start shooting the scenes. the cheyenne airport had been given a thorough cleaning and everything from fences and lights around the border to the wind sock on the beacon tower had been touched up. jane, due out on the _coast to coast_, watched the company assembling. roscoe james, the director, was a giant of a man, well over six feet in height and broad of shoulder. a taxi rolled up and claudette barrett, the leading woman, stepped out. she was a trifle taller than jane, with brown hair and brown eyes, and jane was surprised to see the film star wearing the uniform of a federated airways stewardess. it was perfectly tailored and miss barrett even had the jaunty little beret fitted snugly over her carefully marcelled hair. she had a pleasant smile and spoke to several members of the company. another cab arrived and gary macklin, tall, dark and strikingly handsome, jumped out. he gave jane the impression of always being in a hurry and of having an abundance of energy. a camera crew had its equipment ready and when the _coast to coast_ came into view, started grinding away. the big plane landed smoothly and rolled into the hangar. jane forced herself to turn to her duties and she went forward to relieve the stewardess who had come in from salt lake city, taking over the passenger list and making sure that her own supplies were placed aboard the plane. she was stowing the lunch away in the pantry when someone spoke to her and she turned to face claudette barrett. "i hope i won't bother you," said the film star, "but since i'm supposed to be a stewardess, i've got to learn something about the business." she had a pleasant smile and jane felt an instant liking for this attractive girl of the films. "i'll be glad to show you whatever i can. i'm jane cameron." "why, i've read lots about you. you were the stewardess who was with mrs. van verity vanness when bandits tried to abduct her. i was in new york at the time and read all about it in the _globe_. what a thrilling experience that must have been." "i wouldn't want very many of them," confessed jane. "go ahead with your work. i'll just watch and ask questions." jane stowed the contents of the large hamper away in the pantry and looked at her watch. "we've only three more minutes here. it's time now to get the passengers back into the plane." jane led the way outside. over in front of the commissary sue, alice and grace were watching the proceedings enviously. "my roommates are all anxious to meet you," jane said, "and they'll be glad to give you any assistance possible." "i'm going to need it," smiled the film star. the girls were almost overwhelmed when jane brought miss barrett to meet them, but they found her so natural and interested in their work that they were soon conversing with her freely. the last jane saw of them as the _coast to coast_ roared away, they were taking miss barrett into the stewardess headquarters. when jane returned on wednesday, the film company was in the midst of active shooting. two of the big tri-motored transports had been chartered for use and were landing and taking off for special shots of the field while camera crews on the ground photographed them. at dinner that night, the girls told jane how they had been drafted as extras for a crowd scene in the hangar. "it was thrilling," said alice. "just think, actually in the movies." "we even got paid just for standing around. i'd almost have been willing to pay them," put in grace. "the worst of it is," mourned sue, "more crowd scenes are scheduled for shooting tomorrow and we're all scheduled out." "all except lucky jane, who's in for the rest of the week," said grace. "i'll try and skip around in the crowd scenes and take the places of all of you," jane consoled them. "mrs. murphy's going to be the cheyenne star in the picture," chuckled sue. "the director saw her at the field and he drafted her for a comedy role. it was taken this morning and was as funny as could be. they dressed mrs. murphy up in an old-fashioned outfit with a bonnet and a parrot in a cage. she was taking her first trip by plane and all she had to do was to look flustered and talk about her fear." "yes, and mrs. murphy's never been up," added grace. "when she started toward the plane she forgot all about being in a movie and began to get scared. by the time she reached the steps, she wasn't acting and miss barrett and mr. macklin had to almost force her into the ship. mrs. murphy's brogue was so thick you could cut it and the whole film crew laughed until they were just about worn out. mrs. murphy got a hundred dollars for the scene and she's tickled to death." all the girls were scheduled out on early ships the next morning and jane went to the field with them. even at that hour, director james was on hand making plans for the day's schedule. after the early planes had cleared the field, jane saw him talking to charlie fischer, who had been given a leave of absence to do the stunt flying. a few minutes later charlie came over and joined her. "this is my big day," he said. "if i do all of the tricks they want me to, i'll go crazy." "what do you have to do?" "they're practically re-enacting the scene of the bandit plane attacking us, and i've got to fly the bandit ship. they had a chap from denver slated to come up and do that while i flew the army plane which arrived just in time. now i'll have to fly the bandit plane through a lot of maneuvers and then come down, get another ship which will be painted like an army plane, and do some more stunts all around one of the tri-motors." "but that won't seem like an aerial battle." "the director says they can cut the film in the laboratory so it will look all right. of course he'd like to have both the bandit and the army ships up at the same time, but he's short a pilot and the scene must be filmed this morning. hiring these big tri-motors is cutting heavily into his expense budget." "why not let me fly one of the ships?" suggested jane. "if you were in the other one, i know i'd get along all right." charlie looked at her sharply. "golly, jane, i never thought of that. say, my ship is the one that's been painted up as the bandit plane. you could fly that with your eyes shut and i could take the army plane." "i know we could do it," said jane. "then here goes. we're on our way to see the director right now." chapter twenty down in flames director james was giving orders to the camera crew which was to go aloft in one of the tri-motors. he appeared tired and worried and his greeting to charlie fischer was short. "i'm not looking for any more extras," he growled as he saw jane with the flyer. "sure, sure," agreed charlie, who had a soothing and persuasive way, "but you do need an extra pilot and you need one in a hurry. this girl can handle one of the planes. i know, i trained her to fly." the director stared at charlie. "tell me another one," he snorted. "listen," said charlie, "i'm not kidding. this is straight from the shoulder. you let this girl go up in my plane and she'll do all of the tricks your cameras can catch and a few more thrown in. she's a natural flyer, knows the feel of a plane, becomes a part of it from the second she gets into the cockpit." director james looked thoughtful. "we do need another pilot," he admitted, "but i hate to think of a girl trying all of those stunts." jane decided it was time to say a word. "if i fly charlie's plane, i know i can handle the assignment," she said eagerly. "with charlie in the other ship there'll be little chance of anything going wrong. i'd like to have the opportunity to try it." the director looked at his watch. "we start shooting in half an hour," he decided. "we'll take a chance." "come on, jane. we've got to work fast," said charlie, seizing her arm and almost pulling her after him. "get into boots and breeches. you're going to wear a chute. if anything should happen you'll be ready for it." "but, charlie, i've never used a chute," protested jane. "there's always a first time," said charlie darkly. "now mind what i tell you." jane hurried into the stewardess quarters where she kept her flying clothes in a locker. miss comstock came in while she was changing. "what's this i hear about you piloting one of the planes for the movie people?" she asked. "i'm going to be a bold, bad bandit," smiled jane. "they're short a flyer and can't wait for another man to come up from denver." "but don't you think it's rather dangerous? i don't want to lose my star stewardess." "nothing will happen," promised jane. "i'll be flying charlie's ship and i could do that blindfolded." she pulled her boots on and tied a scarlet scarf around her bobbed hair. in brown boots, white breeches, a soft white silk shirt open at the neck and the flaming scarf around her hair, jane was a striking picture. "look out," cautioned miss comstock, "or the film people will be offering you a contract." "no chance. you've got to be able to act." jane dabbed a bit of fresh powder on her cheeks and hurried out to greet charlie fischer. the tall pilot was wearing one chute pack and he carried another in his arms. "just about time to start," he said. "the ships are over on the ramp warming up." jane looked at charlie's plane. the speedy old biplane had been repainted and now was shining black. just beyond it was a smaller and faster biplane painted to represent an army pursuit craft. it was this ship that charlie was to handle. director james was waiting between the planes. he eyed jane approvingly as she approached for she looked cool and business-like. "you're to fly as though attacking the no. transport," he told jane. "keep away from the second ship with the camera crew. make it look good. we've got a machine gun mounted on your plane and when you dash in, pull the trigger and send bursts of blanks at the transport." while he was giving his instructions, the first transport roared into the air. as soon as the drone of the motors faded, he continued. "on signal from the camera plane, charlie will drop down on you. i want you two to make it look like a good aerial dog-fight. twist and turn and do plenty of power diving. when you see a red flag waved from the camera plane, go into a dive and jerk the smoke pot lever that's been rigged into your plane. that will release a cloud of smoke and make it appear that you're going down in flames. all of this must be done above , feet. at , feet you level off for we won't try to follow you with the cameras below that point. think you understand everything?" "i'm sure i do," replied jane. "don't you worry," put in charlie. "this is going to be the best air action your cameras ever caught." jane adjusted the straps of her parachute and charlie boosted her into the cockpit of his biplane. "if anything goes wrong," he told her, "just bale over the side and after you're clear, jerk the ring. don't worry about the ship. i made the movie people sign a guarantee to replace it, if anything should happen." "nothing's going to happen," said jane firmly. "atta girl. let's go." charlie ran to the other plane and hoisted his long legs into the cockpit. jane opened the motor of the biplane, waved to miss comstock, who was standing nearby, and then sped across the field. it was a glorious summer morning and to the north and west the peaks of the majestic rockies reared their heads above the clouds which obscured their lower levels. jane tingled with the zest of her adventure. she was actually in the movies. of course she was just doing a stunt, but when "the sky riders" came to cheyenne she would have the pleasure of knowing that she had piloted one of the planes in an important piece of action. above jane the first tri-motor, the plane she was to attack, was climbing steadily while the second of the big ships, with the director and main camera crew, was wheeling off the field. charlie was already in the air, following her fast. it took them fifteen minutes to get into position for action and at a signal from the director in the second tri-motor, the first plane lined away west, simulating a transport in regular flight. jane, who was a thousand feet above the transport, jammed the throttle on full and dove for the big plane. the wings of her biplane trembled under the crashing dive, but she knew the plane's capabilities and her heart thrilled as she roared down on the big ship. the machine gun spouted flame and smoke as she pulled the trigger. she flashed past the tri-motor, nosed up, and poured another volley of fake bullets at the big ship. now the chase was on in earnest, the pilots of the tri-motor making every attempt to elude the pursuer and jane was astounded at the tricky flying which could be done with one of the big transports. back and forth they roared through the sky, twisting and turning, until it became a real game. then the roar of another motor came to jane's ears and she looked back to see charlie dropping down on her. that was her cue to stop chasing the tri-motor and attempt to save herself. she dropped her own plane into a quick, twisting dive, that caught charlie unawares and he missed her the first time, but he came fighting back, his own machine gun spouting blanks. for twenty minutes they twisted and turned, first charlie gaining the advantage and then jane. then she saw a red flag waving from the camera plane. it was the signal for the dive on which she was to release the smoke pot. charlie was well above her, diving again. jane waited until his plane was almost on her. then she spun her own ship into a twisting plunge and tripped the trigger of the smoke pot apparatus. almost instantly a cloud of thick, heavy smoke rolled out of the fuselage behind her and charlie's plane disappeared for a second in the smoke screen. jane watched the altimeter. she had been up , feet when she released the smoke pot. at a thousand feet above ground she was to level off and scoot back to the cheyenne field. she had been too busy warding off charlie's attack to watch just where they were and was surprised to find herself just north of the home field. for all jane knew they might have been thirty miles away. the biplane spun down dizzily, the speed increasing until the wing wires screamed in protest. but it was good action and jane knew the movie cameras would catch every bit of it as the smoking plane thundered toward the ground. she felt remarkably cool as the speed increased. she had every confidence in the sturdy old biplane and at , feet she pulled the stick back a bit to see how the plane responded. to her horror there was no lessening in the angle of the dive and she turned quickly. the controls had jammed and the tail of her plane was ablaze, set afire in some way by the smoke pot. chapter twenty-one too much action for a moment sickening panic gripped jane. then she remembered that charlie had insisted that she wear a parachute and there was plenty of time for her to bail out of the falling plane. jane looked back. charlie's ship sped out of the trail of smoke and she saw his tense face peering over the cockpit. behind him boomed the camera ship, recording every movement of the planes. the flames, whipped by the wind, mounted and jane knew there was little time to lose. they were down to , feet and she steeled herself for the leap from the plane. it was her first jump and she hesitated for a moment. desperately she tried the controls again but there was no hope there. the plane was falling at an alarming rate of speed. jane crouched in the seat, making sure that the chute was clear of any obstructions. it took nerve and a cool head to do what was ahead. at , feet she shot out of the plane, doubling over twice as she tumbled through the air. the blazing biplane roared past her and she pulled the chute ring, using both hands. behind her the pilot chute cracked out and then the great silken umbrella filled with air. her plunge downward was stopped suddenly and she found herself drifting feet above the ground. the leap from the plane had been so sudden jane had no time to analyze her feelings while she fell, but now, swinging below the parachute, she felt weak and sick. the biplane spun downward, smoke and flame shooting from the fuselage. close behind it followed charlie, riding it to the ground, while above hovered the camera ship. jane was swinging under the chute in a wide arc. that would never do for she would be slapped hard against the ground. pulling on the lines above, she checked the swinging. there was a slight wind from the north that would take her down on the cheyenne airport. jane watched the biplane closely as it neared the ground. it struck, nose first and then disappeared in a volcano of smoke and flame. jane closed her eyes and when she opened them she had drifted past the scene of the wrecked plane and was coming down over the north boundary of the airport. a car from the main building was racing toward her. jane recognized the ambulance trailing after it. they were taking no chances. she tried to relax as the chute neared the ground. she knew that tense muscles might result in a broken bone for landing in a parachute was anything but a lark. three field mechanics jumped from the car and ran to catch jane as she landed. one of them managed to reach her in time to ease the shock of the fall, but she got a severe jar. they helped jane out of the chute harness and she stepped clear just as miss comstock arrived aboard the ambulance. "are you hurt, jane?" she asked anxiously. "just scared a little," confessed jane, who now felt trembly all over. "i was so afraid you weren't going to jump in time," said the chief stewardess. "i'm about ready to go to the hospital myself." just then charlie fischer pan-caked in for a quick landing, leaped from his plane and ran toward them. "all right, jane?" he asked. "yes, but your plane's a wreck," she replied, pointing beyond the north boundary of the field where flames were licking around the remains of the biplane. "forget about the plane," growled charlie, "just as long as you came out all right." jane entered the field car and miss comstock accompanied her, the mechanics remaining to fold up the parachute. while on their way back to the administration building, the camera plane landed. as soon as it reached the hangar, the director leaped out and hurried toward jane. before he could reach her, charlie, who had taxied his plane across the field, cut in. he was raging mad at the slip-shod work of the movie men who had made the installation of the smoke pot in the ship jane had flown. "you ought to be kicked clear off the field," he shouted at the director. "there wasn't any danger in the stunt until we had to depend on the work of some of your men and then everything went wrong. i've a good notion to sock somebody." "it was a regrettable accident," admitted the director, attempting to placate the angry charlie, "and the company is willing to pay miss cameron handsomely for her work." "fat lot of good that would have done her if she hadn't got down all right," snorted charlie. "i'm very sorry the smoke pot set the plane on fire," said the director turning to jane. "as you know i was hesitant about having you fly at all." "i don't blame you for the accident," replied jane. "we did so much twisting and turning up there that the smoke pot was probably dislodged. i hope it didn't spoil your film." the director smiled. "i think we've probably the best airplane shots ever made for the cameramen were able to follow your ship until it crashed. of course we'll have to cut a few feet where you jumped, but that can be done very easily." jane's work was over and she wanted to get away and be alone for a time. perhaps she'd even cry a little for the tension had been terrific. she slipped away and went to mrs. murphy's where she undressed, took a refreshing bath, and went to bed. it was early evening when she wakened and went down stairs. mrs. murphy emerged from the kitchen. "a gentleman called a time ago and left this letter for you. i think he was from the film company." jane looked at the letter. the return address was that of the leading hotel in the city. she opened the envelope and drew out a crisp check. it was made payable to jane cameron in the amount of $ and was signed by roscoe james for the mammoth film company. jane's eyes blurred. why that check would more than equal all of the money she had spent learning how to fly, but she decided that she wouldn't want to do film stunts for a living. there was a note with the check and jane read it eagerly. "dear miss cameron: we are showing early shots of the film tonight at the hotel at eight. the scenes taken this morning will be included and we would like to have you present. the check is in appreciation of your fine work. cordially, roscoe james." jane's heart leaped. she wouldn't have to wait until the picture was completed and released. she could see the pictures of the airplane action that night. "mrs. murphy," she called, "we're going to the hotel at eight o'clock. they're showing scenes of the picture which have been taken at cheyenne." "what a pity the other girls aren't here," said mrs. murphy. "i'm all in a bustle i'm that excited. do you suppose i took well?" "i'm sure you did." "but did they invite me to see the pictures?" asked mrs. murphy anxiously. "well, they didn't exactly mention you by name, but i know they won't object. you get your hat and we'll go along. we've only a little more than time enough to get there now." "but you've had no supper, jane." "i'm not hungry. i'm too excited." "well, you're going to eat," said mrs. murphy firmly, who believed that food was necessary at regular intervals. "there's several sandwiches and a glass of milk in the ice box. you eat that while i'm fixing my hair." when they reached the hotel, charlie fischer and miss comstock were waiting in the lobby. "this is going to be a real treat," smiled miss comstock. "i never thought i'd be in a movie, even as an extra in a crowd scene." "and i never dreamed that i would pilot a plane with cameras recording the scene," admitted jane. "you might add that you never dreamed you would have to take to a chute to get down," put in charlie. "you're right and once is enough," said jane firmly. the pictures were to be shown in the ballroom. while they waited, miss barrett and gary macklin came out of the dining room. they paused to visit, awaiting the arrival of the director. "i hear i missed some unusual action by staying in bed this morning," smiled miss barrett. "it was too much action," said charlie. "how did you ever have the nerve to jump?" the film star asked jane. "it wasn't nerve," replied jane, "it was just a case of necessity." the director arrived and they went into the ballroom where a screen had been erected at one end and a portable projector placed at the other. "we're going to run through everything we've taken," explained the director as the company, including cameramen and technicians, gathered. turning to the federated airways people, he explained, "of course there is no sound on the print we're running tonight. the noise of the airplane engines will be produced in the home studio and worked into the sound track later." they found seats and the lights were turned off. there was no title to precede the start of the actual picture, the first scene being of the cheyenne airport with the _coast to coast limited_ coming in from the west. jane started as she recognized the familiar action which had taken place only that monday morning. she saw herself walking across the concrete floor to speak to the incoming stewardess. then she entered the cabin and a few seconds later another stewardess walked across the hangar. jane smiled for the second girl was claudette barrett, looking exceedingly attractive in the uniform of a federated airways stewardess. then there was a shot of the plane taking off, and, after that, pictures of miss barrett and gary macklin talking in the shadows of one of the great tri-motors, several shots showing the leading man at the controls of one of the big planes, and a number showing him in the cockpit of the army plane which charlie had flown that morning. pictures of the planes coming in at night, especially, thrilled jane. in the crowd scenes she saw sue, alice, grace and miss comstock. then came the unforgettable scene, with mrs. murphy trying to make up her mind about getting aboard the plane, and the efforts of miss barrett and gary macklin to convince her that flying was safe. the entire group burst into hearty laughter and the director leaned back to speak to miss barrett. "that's one of the best bits of natural comedy i've seen in years," jane heard him say. the picture swung into the air action which had been taken that morning, showing the departure of the tri-motor. then jane saw the black plane which she had piloted bearing down on the transport and she leaned forward in her chair. this was her part of the picture. her mouth felt dry and her brow was hot as she watched the black plane dart toward the unsuspecting tri-motor. smoke and flame shot from the gun on her plane as she maneuvered to force the transport down. the camera range had been too long to get a glimpse of jane's face and reveal that a girl was flying the plane, but her scarf, which had been wound around her head, trailed over the edge of the cockpit, whipping in the wind. the director turned to an assistant. "make a note that when we take the close-up shots in the studio there must be a scarf tied to the helmet of the pilot of the bandit plane." out of the clouds dropped charlie fischer in the army plane, roaring down upon jane and the black ship. for the next few minutes jane was almost breathless as she watched the maneuvers in the air. it was more thrilling than she had dared to imagine, and the cameras had caught every twist and turn of the plane. then came the last dive by charlie and the puff of smoke from the black biplane, which fell away in a twisting dive. jane, watching intently, saw flames lick out of the fuselage and seconds later she catapulted from the burning plane. the cameras, following the blazing ship, failed to show her chute open, but they kept the focus on the plane until it smashed into the ground, a flaming mass of wreckage. the film sputtered out of the projector and the lights in the ballroom came on. director james turned to jane and charlie. "congratulations on some exceptionally fine flying," he said. then, aiming his question at jane, he asked, "how would you like to come to hollywood? i'm sure we could find some small roles for a girl who has your coolness and nerve." jane shook her head firmly. "once was enough. i've had all of the movie experience i want." chapter twenty-two promotion for jane "what's this i hear about your turning down an offer to go to hollywood?" demanded sue when she reached mrs. murphy's the next morning after a night flight from chicago. "did you really do that?" asked grace, who had just arrived. jane smiled at their insistent questions. "i did something like it," she confessed. "at least i recall that mr. james mentioned something about going to hollywood. he said he thought he could find work there for me in minor parts." "and you turned that down?" gasped sue. "i certainly did. i'm no actress and i know it. perhaps i could get by for a time on my ability to do aviation scenes, but that wouldn't last long and then i'd be looking for a job." "but think of all the romance of going to hollywood," sue insisted. "there wouldn't be much romance in going hungry," replied jane. "i'm satisfied." "i think you're smart," put in grace. "in chicago the last trip, i heard that with business picking up, the line was going to put on more girls. that means miss comstock will need an assistant and i wouldn't be a bit surprised if you were appointed." "i'd like that if i could keep on flying," said jane, "but why do you think i have a chance?" "easy," smiled grace. "for one thing, you're the best-known stewardess on the line. you've got a pleasing personality, all of the girls like you, and you certainly know your work. what more is needed?" "nothing," confessed jane, "but your specifications don't fit me." "just wait and see," predicted grace. the motion picture company remained at cheyenne the rest of the week, but the shots did not require extras although the girls often saw members of the company at the airport. "there go my hopes of a film career," smiled sue a little ruefully, as she watched the director, and the leading man and lady board a westbound plane sunday morning. "guess i wasn't cut out for an actress after all." "but you're in the picture as an extra, like the rest of us," alice consoled her. "we'll be lucky if they don't decide to eliminate the scenes we're in," said grace cheerfully. "of course i've written my folks all about the picture and they'll need a microscope to find me." during the next week word came out from chicago that six more girls were being recruited and would be sent to cheyenne to take the training course. soon after that, miss comstock summoned jane to her office. "you've heard the service is to be enlarged?" she asked and jane nodded. "it will mean considerable additional work in training these girls, while i am supervising the regular routine," she went on. "i have asked the company for an assistant and they have given me permission to select one of the girls in the ranks." she paused and jane's heart leaped hopefully. "i should like to have you help me," went on miss comstock and jane felt her face flushing. "your salary will be advanced to $ a month, but at present i would prefer that none of the other girls know about this salary arrangement. what do you think about it?" "i'm delighted," said jane. "of course i'll be glad to do anything that i can, but i don't want to go out of active flying altogether." "you won't," promised the chief stewardess. "after these girls are trained, you'll go back on the _coast to coast_. i'm going to take you off regular assignment next sunday for the girls will arrive early monday morning. i shall plan to turn over most of the work in the classroom and the commissary to you." when jane told her companions of the good news, they were almost as pleased as she. "i wonder who is going to get your place on the _coast to coast?_" mused sue. "you are, my dear. i saw miss comstock making out your transfer card just as i left." "then you'll have to watch your laurels," warned sue, "for i've always wanted the _coast to coast_ and i'll do my best to make such a fine record they'll decide to keep me on that run. most of the celebrities pick the _coast to coast_. it's got the fastest and most convenient schedule." "and the prettiest stewardesses," added alice. the new girls arrived at : o'clock monday morning and miss comstock greeted them. they were all from chicago hospitals, pretty, as well as efficient. jane catalogued them mentally, looking for the possible troublemakers, for after the departure of mattie clark, the routine had been pleasant and they wanted to keep things that way. none of the new girls appeared to be inclined toward a "know-it-all" attitude, for which jane was grateful. miss comstock introduced her and turned over the routine of helping the girls find rooms. jane knew cheyenne so well by now, that she was in an excellent position to advise them, and immediately after lunch they plunged into the routine of classes, which was to prepare the newcomers for permanent positions in the service. the girls were eager and alert and jane found the class work pleasant. there was nothing of the nervousness and drudgery about it that she had feared. when it came time for miss comstock to put the girls through the final examinations, they passed with flying colors, much to the credit of their young instructor. some weeks later big news sped along the line. new planes were being made in the company's plant at tacoma. the old tri-motors which had braved the elements through winter and summer for four years were to be retired. the new ships would have two engines, of horsepower each, and would speed along at to miles an hour, with a top speed of . jane asked charlie fischer about the planes, but charlie professed to be in almost complete ignorance. "we've got to go to school and learn how to handle them," he said. "i'm starting for tacoma tomorrow night. i hear they're all metal with the latest do-dads the inventors can stick on them. pretty soon we'll have to have an expert along to tell the pilot what to do." all of the ace pilots of the line were called to tacoma at various intervals to see the new planes. charlie returned enthusiastic. "they're the greatest ships ever built," he told jane and sue, the first time he saw them after his return. "why we'll be able to outrun the lightning. they carry ten passengers, two pilots and a stewardess, although i don't know why they want the latter tagging along." "seems to me, charlie," interrupted sue, "that once or twice you've been mighty glad to have a stewardess on the ship." "must have been some other fellow," grinned charlie. "just wait until you see your pantry. the whole thing's done in the latest stainless metal. my instrument board looks like an inventor's paradise, but i guess i'll be able to figure out what all of the gauges and dials are for." interest in the new planes ran high and the first test flight across the entire system was set for october nd. according to the tentative schedule, they would clip at least eight hours off the coast to coast time. jane hoped that she would get the first assignment, for she was back in active service, but grace drew the coveted slip, which gave her the right to care for the passengers on the initial flight of the new queen of the air. they watched the progress of the swift craft from the moment it left the golden gate. as many of the cheyenne crew as possible grouped about the radio in the communications office. with a favoring tail wind, the pilots west of cheyenne kept the average at better than miles an hour, including stops. it was fast enough to make them almost dizzy. "i'll bet i never get a deep breath from here to chicago," smiled grace, as the silver monoplane settled down on the cheyenne field. the new craft was a thing of beauty, all metal, with one low wing. the propellers were set ahead of the wing and the wheels folded into the body when it was in flight. the fuselage with the pilots' cockpit and cabin for the passengers was like the body of a wasp, long and gracefully stream-lined to reduce wind resistance. jane and sue accompanied grace to the plane, anxious to see what the interior was like. it was not as roomy as the hulking tri-motors, but the seats were more comfortable and the pantry which the stewardess used was complete to the latest detail. the lights were soft and easily adjustable. each passenger could control the ventilation of the individual windows. the interior was in black and brown, pleasingly harmonious. there was a full passenger list, and grace was busy checking over the list and making sure the necessary supplies were aboard. then the sleek craft was away, jane and sue waving, as the monoplane rolled out of the hangar. grace waved back as the night swallowed the plane. for two hours jane and sue remained at the field, listening to reports of the speeding ship, which was setting a new record for air passenger travel in the united states. "what fun it would be aloft tonight," said sue a bit sadly, "and to know that you were setting a new speed record." "we shouldn't begrudge grace that trip," jane replied. "we've had plenty of good things since we joined the service." before winter set in, the entire fleet of new planes was operating on the transcontinental line and the sturdy old tri-motors were wheeled into the hangars where dust soon stood thick on the valiant wings. winter flying was to be a new experience for the girls, and they were issued trimly tailored coats, heavily lined. fortunately the new planes were well insulated and there was a splendid electric heating system. extreme cold failed to slow up the schedules, the planes stopping only for snow, which swirled down from the peaks of the rockies. christmas eve found jane roaring toward chicago on the _coast to coast_, but she had planned for it and brought a tiny christmas tree aboard at cheyenne. there were only eight passengers aboard and she had shopped in the dime store for small gifts which would be appropriate for almost any group. she copied the names from the passenger list on gift tags and then carried the tree and her armful of presents to the front of the cabin, placing them in the two forward chairs. the passengers were delighted, for christmas eve away from home, even at , feet in the air and speeding along at miles an hour, could be a little dreary. jane was gay, and her good humor cheered up her passengers. one by one she called their names and they opened their presents with evident curiosity and enthusiasm. there was a nice handkerchief for the elderly woman who was hurrying to chicago, a tube of shaving-cream for the clean-shaven new york traveling man, and a picture book for the little girl of seven who was traveling with her mother. gifts for the other passengers were appropriate. then jane opened a basket of popcorn balls she had made at mrs. murphy's and a box of delicious home-made candy. all in all, it was as gay and pleasant as christmas eve could be away from home. with the turn into the new year, winter descended on the rockies in all its fury. blizzards raged for days and the passenger schedules were practically abandoned. whenever the storm let up, the planes, with only the pilots and the mail aboard, dashed across the continental divide, but for more than a week, jane and her companions remained snowbound at cheyenne. then reports of sickness and misery in isolated mountain towns began to creep in. doctors were running short of supplies in villages where the flu had appeared. unless the blizzards abated soon, there would be serious trouble. jane was scheduled to go out on the _coast to coast_, coming through from the west for the first time in three days. the plane was hours late and she reported at the field just as the early january night closed down. miss comstock was in the operations room. so was slim bollei, one of the veteran pilots. "you might as well go home, jane," said miss comstock. "i phoned, but you had started for the field. it's snowing west of here and the _coast to coast_ won't get out of rock springs before dawn." slim bollei, who had been looking out the window, shrugged his shoulders. "you're optimistic," he grinned. "it's snowing thicker and harder than at any time this winter." the weather had turned bitter cold with the wind lashing around the big hangar in a chilling overture. when jane started back to the city, she found that the field car which had brought her was stalled. she telephoned for a taxi, but was informed that no machine would be available for at least an hour, so she made herself comfortable in the waiting room which adjoined the office of the night operations chief. sue called to learn if they were going to try to get the _coast to coast_ through and jane informed her that she was marooned at the field. "maybe i'll be home by morning," she concluded hopefully. it was half an hour later when the phone on the night chief's desk rang. jane was near enough to catch most of the conversation for the man on the other end of the wire was shouting. "sure, i know there's trouble," the night chief said, "but we aren't moving any of our mail planes. it would be suicide to attempt to fly tonight." "what's the matter?" asked slim bollei. "it's the governor at laramie," replied the night chief. "there's been a bad outbreak of diphtheria at lytton, a village up against the montana line in the country that god forgot. the doctor there is out of serum and a couple of the youngsters are desperately ill. there's plenty of serum here and the governor wants us to get a plane through." the night chief turned back to the telephone. "but i tell you, governor, it can't be done. you can't see a hundred feet through this storm and the temperature's down to five below zero and dropping fast." "wait a minute," cut in slim bollei. "find out what's the least possible time the serum can be used and do any good." "they've got to have it before tomorrow night," said the night chief when the governor's reply came to him. "everything else that's tried to get to lytton has failed. it's a plane or nothing at all." "tell him we'll get through some way," snapped slim. "we can't let kids die without trying." "but we can't afford to wreck one of the new ships," protested the night chief. "i'll take one of the old tri-motors. tell the governor we'll get through." the flyer turned and walked toward the radio room. "get chicago," he snapped, "and have them put the operations chief on the wire." less than a minute later slim bollei poured his story over the short wave radio and into the ears of the operations chief at chicago. he wanted one of the old tri-motors and he got it with the chief's blessing. after that he left on the run to route out a ground crew to get the plane ready for the flight. miss comstock, who had listened gravely, turned to jane. "slim can't go alone," she said. "a nurse will be needed there. i'm going. you take charge here." "but you're needed more than i am," protested jane. "let me go." miss comstock shook her head. "there's too much danger. slim and i will go." "one nurse won't be enough," insisted jane. "think what two of us could do, think what it will mean to those youngsters." miss comstock smiled. "you win, jane. we'll both go." outside the shadowy bulk of one of the tri-motors was being wheeled into the hangar. as soon as there was the slightest break in the storm, they would be away on their errand of mercy. chapter twenty-three white madness miss comstock, with jane at her heels, hurried into the commissary. supplies must be made ready and food placed aboard the tri-motor. out in the hangar a crew worked desperately over the big plane, tuning up the motors and checking in the gas and oil. slim bollei, in a sheepskin, appeared to be everywhere, orders cracking from his thin lips. in half an hour jane and the chief stewardess had two large hampers ready, one filled with medical supplies and bandages and the other containing food. there was more than a chance that they would be forced down and food might become very much of a necessity. a car struggled through the storm, bringing the serum out from the city, and slim bollei returned to the operations office. "everything's ready," he informed the night chief. "how's the weather?" "not so good. it's still snowing hard in the mountains and the mercury is eight below now, but it won't drop much further." "we'll wait another hour and see if we can get away then," decided slim. jane and miss comstock sat down in the waiting room, drawing their coats around them, for at eight below zero the heating plant was functioning none too well. the pilot came in with two fleece-lined coats. "better put these on," he advised. "there won't be much heat in the cabin and i don't want to drop down at lytton with a couple of frozen stewardesses on my hands." they accepted the coats gratefully and waited for the next reports on the storm. it was dismal waiting there, with the wind howling around the hangar and the snow driving against the windows. at midnight it was still storming hard and they delayed their departure another hour. but the storm held on and the sky was greying before slim bollei decided to make the attempt. the motors of the huge biplane roared lustily in spite of the cold, the hampers and the precious serum were placed aboard, parachutes were adjusted under their coats and the trio, the chief pilot and the two stewardesses, struggled out to the plane. the cabin was cold and it would take some time before heat from the motors warmed it. miss comstock and jane kept moving about and looking out at the storm. it was still snowing, but the fall was not as thick as it had been during the night. reports from the west indicated the end of the blizzard was near. slim bollei came back into the main cabin. "all ready?" he asked. miss comstock nodded. "see that your chute packs don't foul. if i signal three times on your light you'll know we're in trouble. four sharp flashes will mean you've got to unload." "what about yourself?" demanded the chief stewardess. "i'll get along all right," said slim. "you get out of the cabin if i signal for a jump." the radio operator ran out with the final weather report and the tractor rolled the big doors away. the biplane quivered as the full strength of the wind whistled through the hangar. then the ship rolled ahead, flame spitting from the three long exhausts. the runways had been swept clear of snow by the wind and slim bollei opened the throttle. in no time at all they were in the air, turning north for the -mile flight to lytton. with a quartering wind from the rockies, the plane pitched badly and miss comstock and jane fastened their safety belts. even then they were thrown around sharply. the cabin warmed only slightly, for the older ships had been poorly insulated. jane beat her hand together to keep the circulation flowing. the air speed indicator hovered around the mile an hour mark. at that rate it would take them nearly two hours to make the trip. the ground disappeared in the drifting haze of snow and jane knew the pilot was flying blind. she was glad that slim was rated one of the best flyers on the system, for he would have need of every ounce of the skill in his capable hands. for an hour they bored through the storm. then the middle motor started to sputter and the light flashed three times. they unfastened their safety belts and stood in the aisle. "i'm going ahead to see what's wrong," said miss comstock. she hurried forward and jane listened intently to the uneven firing of the motor. when miss comstock returned jane could see that the chief stewardess was worried. "slim says the motor seems to be freezing up. it's only a question of time before it will quit altogether." "does that mean we'll have to try for a landing?" asked jane. "he thinks he can keep going on the wing motors. he's going to try but he said to be ready to jump if one of them stops." standing in the aisle of the cold cabin, with the wind rocking the plane and the snow hiding the ground, jane felt a chilling of her heart that was caused by something beside the sub-zero winter. the serum they carried was so desperately needed in the isolated town. lives of children depended on the success of their trip. they must win through; the wing motors must continue their rhythmic beating. five minutes later the center motor quit firing altogether and the wing engines growled as the added burden came upon them. the wind seemed to have slackened slightly, but the mantle of snow still enfolded them in its fleecy whiteness. the minutes crept on endlessly. they must be nearing the village if the pilot's calculations were correct and the wind had not drifted them too far off their course. jane went to one of the windows and peered down. there was only the snow and the wind swirling it below them. then they started down, feeling their way through the blizzard. it was tricky work, a task that required the hand of a master pilot, for at any moment they might smash down out of the sky in a crash landing. with nerves taut, the stewardesses watched the needle of the altimeter. the light flashed three times. it was the warning of trouble ahead. the plane lurched upward and a resounding shock rocked the big craft. jane caught a glimpse of something black and rugged underneath the left wing. miss comstock cried out in alarm. "the landing gear's smashed," she shouted. "we must have struck a rock ridge," replied jane. they zoomed upward and the light flashed four times. that was the signal to jump. jane looked at miss comstock. the chief stewardess shook her head. "i'm not jumping," she cried. "neither am i," replied jane, hurrying ahead to the pilot's cockpit. slim bollei was clinging to his controls. "jump," he yelled. "we've washed out the landing gear." "we're not jumping," jane told him firmly. "if the storm will only clear you may be able to skid in for a landing on the snow." "that's what i'm hoping for, but i can't stay up here forever." jane remained in the forward cockpit while the pilot sought a break in the storm which would enable him to get his bearings and land. for fifteen minutes they cruised in great circles. "the storm's breaking away," cried jane. slim nodded hopefully. it did seem as though the snow was thinning. for another fifteen minutes the motors droned steadily and at the end of that time, the snow lessened to a fine cloud. objects on the ground came into view. "there's a village!" cried jane, pointing to the right. slim bollei swung the tri-motor in a gentle circle, for he lacked the power for steep climbs and banks. as the plane roared over the snowbound town, men appeared, waving their arms frantically. "i guess that's the place," grinned slim. "it's the only town within thirty miles. now we've got to find a place where we can do a little skiing." beyond the village he found a field nearly half a mile long. it was sheltered in a valley with what wind still remained sweeping the length of the field. "get back in the cabin and hang on," shouted the pilot. "i'm going to cut the motors and see what kind of a snowbird this is." "we're starting down," jane told miss comstock when she returned to the cabin. the plane tilted forward and the motors eased down to a whisper. the snow-covered ground leaped toward them, then seemed to pause in its mad rush as the biplane leveled out there was a sharp bump, the sound of tearing wood and fabric, and a series of jolting shocks before the tri-motor came to rest with its nose in a deep drift. slim bollei staggered back into the cabin, a deep gash over his right eye. "get the serum out of here. the gas tanks have given way and the fuel may explode any second." jane clutched the package of precious serum and threw open the cabin door. miss comstock came after her, tugging the hamper loaded with medical supplies while slim carried the hamper of food. the snow was eighteen inches deep, and they floundered through it, gasping for breath. they stopped a hundred yards away from the big plane and slim eyed it ruefully. "that's a good job for a salvage crew," he said, "but i guess the line won't kick a whole lot. that ship paid for itself many a time." strangely enough, even with the fuel flowing out of the split gas tanks, the big craft did not take fire and the flyer and the stewardesses turned to greet the villagers, who were hurrying to meet them. chapter twenty-four dangerous passengers miss comstock and jane remained in the village two days, ministering to the needs of the stricken children and playing first assistant to the over-worked village doctor. then another federated airways plane, one of the old tri-motors, dropped down on them and whisked them back to cheyenne. from the governor came a personal note of appreciation for what they had done. after that the winter tapered off. the storms were less severe and the flying schedules were maintained, almost without interruption. jane and her companions found their routine duties pleasant, for no two days were alike. the weather varied, passengers changed and there was always the element of the unexpectd injecting itself into their work. spring arrived in a shroud of rain and fog, but with the improvement of the radio beacons, the planes were seldom delayed. the end of their first year as stewardesses neared and it was late in may when jane, aboard the eastbound _coast to coast limited_, swooped down on the field at omaha. to her surprise, the first passenger to step aboard was miss hardy, the supervisor of nurses at good samaritan. jane was genuinely glad to see her, for it had been through miss hardy she had received the opportunity to join the stewardess service. the _coast to coast_ was five minutes ahead of schedule and jane and the supervisor had a chance to visit. miss hardy explained that she was going to chicago for a part of her vacation and had finally managed to make up her mind to fly. "perhaps i'd better say my brother convinced me," she smiled. "i've been in omaha a week. he's a regular aviation fan and comes out to the field two or three times a week to watch the night planes come in. after he dragged me along, i began to feel that i wasn't afraid to make the trip." "you'll enjoy every minute of it," jane assured her, "and i'm especially delighted that your first trip is with me. slim bollei, one of the most skilled pilots on the line, is at the controls today. that means you'll have a smooth, comfortable trip. once in a while a cross-wind gives the passengers a little trouble, but travel is unusually comfortable today." "you've certainly attracted national attention," said miss hardy. "i've read of your exploits on several occasions, once when the bandit plane tried to abduct that wealthy new york woman and again when you flew to some small town with a supply of much needed serum." "it wasn't done for publicity's sake," said jane, "but the public and the newspapers aren't used to stewardesses on planes and when they do anything out of the ordinary, that's news." departure time came and jane saw that miss hardy was settled comfortably, in a chair next to a window, and halfway back on the right side of the plane. miss hardy looked older and her eyes appeared tired. she must have had a hard year with the new classes of girls at good samaritan, thought jane. they roared off the field, flashed over the muddy missouri, and then struck out across the rolling farm land of western iowa. the country was fresh, with the green of the pastures contrasting sharply against the black of the corn fields, in which the first spears of the new stalks were starting to peep through the top soil. several times on their swift flight over iowa, jane stopped to talk with miss hardy, who appeared to be enjoying the trip immensely. it was a non-stop hop from omaha that afternoon and almost before they knew it, the graceful craft was settling down on the chicago field. "i've enjoyed the trip so much i'm going in and make my reservation for the return flight," said miss hardy, as jane helped her out of the plane. "then i'll look forward to having you booked on my plane," said jane. "thanks so much for your recommendation last year. it helped a great deal in getting jobs for sue and me." sue arrived the next morning on the slower _night flyer_ and found that she was booked out that night for the return to cheyenne. business eastbound had been heavier than the westbound traffic, and as a result there were more girls at the chicago airport than needed. jane was assigned to fly back with sue, resuming her regular schedule from cheyenne on the _coast to coast_ on the second day. when sue got her passenger list, there were only four, all of them going through to the coast. "looks like an easy trip," she told jane. two traveling men were the first aboard and they were followed a few minutes later by a woman of about forty, who was accompanied by a curly-haired boy of seven or eight. sue nudged jane sharply. "those people are down as mrs. henry smith and son, but that boy looks like jackie condon, the famous movie star." jane looked again. the boy certainly resembled the lad she had seen on the screen so many times in the last two years. his salary was reported to be fabulous, his weekly pay so large the figures dazzled. two minutes before starting time, there was a jam at the gate and two men, well dressed, with dark, smooth faces, hurried forward, waving tickets. "you're just in time," said sue, taking their tickets and assigning them to forward chairs. they nodded and entered the plane. jane standing beside the landing stage saw something that alarmed her, as the second man passed. his coat slipped open just as he bent to go through the door and she caught a glimpse of a gun in a shoulder holster. guns were not unfamiliar sights to the stewardesses, for each pilot went armed, but a gun on a passenger was a different thing. "what were the names of those men?" she asked sue. "anton mellotti and chris bardo. why?" "the last man, bardo, is carrying a gun." "we'd better tell charlie fischer. he's flying us west tonight." they hurried ahead and caught charlie just before he climbed into the cockpit. "so we've got a gunman aboard," said charlie, when the girls informed him of what jane had seen. "we'll see about that." charlie entered the cabin and tapped bardo on the shoulder. jane couldn't hear what he said, but when charlie returned he didn't have the gun. "he flashed a deputy sheriff's badge and there wasn't anything i could do," explained charlie. "you kids have let your imaginations run away with you. it's time to go." sue and jane went aboard and jane gave her friend a hand in strapping the passengers into their seats. then they sped westward as though racing to overtake the sun. jane picked up a movie magazine from the pile aboard the ship. on the fifth page was a large picture of jackie condon. jane looked at it sharply and then at the boy passenger. there was no mistake. sue was right. she looked ahead at the passengers who had arrived just before their departure. mellotti was heavy set, with black hair and beetling brows. bardo was taller, lithe and quick of action. his eyes, so dark a brown they were almost black, shone with animation and when he looked at jane she felt a queer chill creep along her spine. there was something sinister in his manner. the trip westward was uneventful and they left omaha on time. it was near kearney when jane, who had been reading an omaha paper, looked up to see one of the passengers standing in the aisle. she started ahead to tell him that it was against orders when she saw something glinting dully in his right hand. other passengers were raising their hands. it was mellotti, gun in hand. bardo, also carrying a weapon, was hurrying toward the pilot's cockpit and jane knew that the suspicion which had gripped her in chicago was a reality. they were abducting the young film star. chapter twenty-five on desperate wings that night was timeless for jane. always she would remember the stark horror of it as the plane roared through the darkness with the gunmen in control. mellotti remained in the cabin, guarding the passengers. up ahead bardo forced charlie fischer to swing the plane off the transcontinental airway. they were flying north. that was all jane knew. the hours slipped away with aching slowness. jackie condon and his mother remained calm and the traveling men started a card game. when the sky finally lightened, they were over a great, flat expanse of country with a chain of mountains barely visible in the west. jane guessed they must be somewhere in canada, just east of the rockies. fifteen minutes later the plane landed and taxied across a weedy field to a lonely road that wound across the prairie. a truck, laden with barrels of gasoline, was waiting. jane and the others were not permitted to leave the cabin while bardo forced charlie fischer and his co-pilot to help fill the wing tanks. when that task was done, bardo entered the cabin. "get out," he told the traveling men. "hey, you can't maroon us like this," the older one protested. "get out," repeated bardo, his black eyes snapping, and they hastened to obey. jane and sue started to follow the traveling men, but bardo's soft voice stopped them. "stay here. we want you to take care of this youngster. his mother gets off here." mrs. condon's protests were to no avail and she was shoved roughly from the plane. bardo disappeared up ahead and presently the motors started. mellotti locked the door and the plane swung around for a dash across the field. jane's face blanched as she saw charlie fischer and the co-pilot standing on the ground. bardo was flying the plane. she and sue and jackie condon were alone with the kidnapers. bardo appeared to be a flyer of above average ability for he handled the large plane easily. they sped westward, climbing over what jane was sure were the snow-crested canadian rockies. then they dropped down the other side, and a great expanse of water loomed ahead. the plane turned northward, skimming over the coast line. for fully an hour they went on and then bardo brought the transport down on a long shingle of sand. it was an easy landing and jane admired his skill. moored nearby was a seaplane and in a clump of trees a hundred yards from the beach were two cabins. it was an ideal hideaway and jane knew that unless a miracle happened, there was little chance of searching parties finding them. the girls and jackie were ordered to the larger of the two cabins. "you take care of the boy. it'll be just too bad if anything happens to him," said bardo darkly. they had been joined by a third man, evidently the pilot of the seaplane. like the gunmen who had captured the transport, he was dark and swarthy. jackie was a delightful youngster and jane and sue admired his calm courage. "of course i was scared," he said, "but i didn't dare let those fellows know. i guess we'll just have to wait until someone comes along and rescues us." he was brave about it, but jane knew that no one was going to come along and rescue them. they would be held until jackie's mother paid the ransom demand or----. but jane couldn't think of the other possibility and she set her mind to working on some plan of escape. there was plenty of food in the cabin and the girls and jackie were given the freedom of the beach. that first night jane couldn't sleep much, turning and tossing as she tried to evolve some plan of escape. to attempt to flee in the transport was impossible for she didn't know the first thing about piloting one of the big ships. but the seaplane. that was different. of course she had never flown one, but it looked like a common biplane only instead of wheels it had pontoons. certainly the operation must be the same. jane was up with the dawn. the seaplane was still moored a few yards from the beach, the canvas cover shielding the motor. throughout the day she waited, hoping the men might leave the beach for a few minutes, but her hopes were unavailing. night came and they were locked in the cabin. when she was sure that no one was within earshot, jane told sue and jackie what she hoped to do. "if i can get out to the seaplane and get it started i'm sure we'll be able to get away," she whispered, "but first we've got to get out of the cabin." they tried the windows, one by one, and the third appeared loose. working quietly with a kitchen knife they finally slid the window aside. the darkness was heavy and jane slipped through the window first. jackie was second and finally sue. the lights were out in the other cabin and they moved swiftly down to the beach. little waves lapped the sand. "do you think the water's deep?" sue whispered. "i've got to chance it," replied jane. "the rowboat's padlocked. here goes." she plunged in boldly. the bottom fell away gradually and the water was only a little more than waist deep when she reached the pontoons and pulled herself aboard. turning, she called softly to sue. "wade out with jackie. it isn't deep." a minute later sue, holding jackie in her arms, was beside the seaplane and jane helped them aboard. "get into the forward cockpit," she said. "i'm going to cast off the mooring line." once free of the line which held it, the seaplane started drifting along parallel with the beach. jane scrambled back to the pilot's cockpit after pulling the canvas off the motor. guardedly she turned on the light over the dash. some of the instruments were unfamiliar, but it was a standard control plane. her heart leaped for she knew she would be able to fly it. "what are we going to do now?" asked sue. "wait for dawn." "but that will be hours." "we can't risk a takeoff in the night," replied jane. "make yourselves as comfortable as you can. at least we're on our way." through the night they drifted, the current keeping them just offshore. with the first light, jane saw they were at least three miles from the cabins. in a few more minutes their absence would be discovered. "wake up," she told sue and jackie. "we're starting home." jane primed the motor and snapped the starter switch. the motor failed to catch and she primed it again, this time successfully. the trim plane shook as the propeller spun in the early morning light. in order to take off into the wind, jane was forced to turn the plane toward the cabin. then she opened the throttle, gritted her teeth and held the stick hard. the seaplane leaped forward, skimming the tiny waves. it shook itself free and jane knew they were a step nearer home. they passed close enough to the beach to see bardo and his two fellow kidnapers run from the cabin. then jane banked the seaplane and sped southward. where they were headed she could only guess, but they were one their way. sue yelled and pointed back. jane turned. the kidnapers were getting the transport ready for flight, but it would be at least another five minutes before they could get into the air. they rounded a rocky headland and jane dropped the seaplane low, barely skimming the water. they would be harder to follow down low. the top speed of the seaplane was an hour and jane knew that the transport, capable of almost double that, would soon be upon them. they must find shelter soon. fifteen minutes later the transport, coming low and fast, roared into view. not more than five minutes was between the planes now and still no village had been sighted. the distance between the planes was vanishing like magic when jane caught sight of a trail of smoke out to sea. it was a desperate chance but worth it. banking the seaplane sharply, she sped away from the coast with the transport diving at an angle to cut her off. it was going to be close, but jane pushed the throttle wide open and somehow the little craft found an added ten miles an hour. the outlines of the ship appeared. it was low and rakish and painted grey, but whatever it was, it looked like a haven. a cry from sue drew jane's attention from the pursuing plane. "the coast guard!" shouted sue and jane's heart leaped. she dove for the ship, waving frantically. above her the transport circled, afraid to follow. jane, too elated to worry about the hazard of landing the seaplane, made an almost perfect descent and taxied alongside the coast guard vessel, which had been brought to a halt. officers and men lined the rail for it was seldom that two girls and a boy appeared in a seaplane. jane stood up and cupped her hands. "can you take us aboard? we've got jackie condon, the missing film star." "you've what?" roared the amazed commander. jane repeated her message and a boat was dropped by the destroyer. it came alongside the seaplane handsomely, took the mooring line, and towed the plane up to the destroyer. jane went aboard and told her story to the astounded commander. the radio cracked out the good news that a whole nation had been waiting to hear. then followed directions intended to bring the apprehension of bardo and his band of kidnapers. the destroyer, en route to alaska, turned about and with funnels trailing heavy ribbons of oily smoke, sped toward seattle under forced draft. jane and sue looked over the rail at the mountainous coast line of british columbia. in less than a week, they would be back on the transcontinental, settling into their routine work. "know what day this is?" asked jane. "our first anniversary," smiled sue. "we joined the airways just a year ago. think how much has happened?" "just think how much more can happen in the coming year," replied jane, wondering vaguely what new adventure might be ahead of them. the end the sky trail _by_ graham m. dean author of _daring wings_ _circle patrol_ the goldsmith publishing co. chicago ------------------------------------------------------------------------ copyright the goldsmith publishing company made in u. s. a. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ the sky trail chapter one gray clouds of winter hung over the city as the noon edition of the _atkinson news_ roared off the press. tim murphy, famous young flying reporter and aviation editor of the _news_, pecked away half-heartedly at his typewriter trying to write a story about a minor automobile accident that had happened a few minutes before in front of the _news_ building. the raw, damp weather and the lead-colored sky had a depressing effect on tim. he felt earthbound, restless, and he longed to soar through the clouds in the _good news_, the trim, fast biplane owned by the paper. "what are you looking so gloomy about?" asked ralph graves, who had been tim's flying companion on many an aerial adventure. "this weather is enough to give anyone a grouch," replied tim. "here it is, almost spring, and we have to get a week of sloppy weather that spoils all our plans. that job of overhauling the _good news_ and installing the new motor will be done today but it won't do us any good. with weather like this we won't get any flying assignments." "i know just how you feel," sympathized ralph, "ive been out chasing the fire trucks on a couple of chimney fires and i've slopped through all the mud and slush i'm going to for one day. gosh! but i'd like to hop over a few clouds in the _good news_." the telephone on tim's desk rang and he turned to answer. he was smiling when he swung back and faced ralph. "dash off your copy," he said. "carl hunter, the manager at the airport, just phoned that the _good news_ is ready for a test flight. if we cut lunch this noon we'll have time for a short hop. what say?" "don't ask foolish questions," grinned ralph. he hurried to his typewriter where his fingers were soon beating a tattoo on flying keys as he wrote the story of the fires. ralph finished his story, turned it in at the copy desk, and was on his way to rejoin tim when a deep rumble shook the building. "earthquake!" shouted one of the copy boys as he dove under a desk. the windows rattled in their frames and the entire building shook as the terrific noise continued. then a great pall of black smoke could be seen mounting skyward. the building ceased its trembling, the copy boy scrambled out from under the desk and the telephones voiced their sharp cries. tim was the first to answer. from his attitude others in the news room sensed some major disaster. the managing editor, george carson, human dynamo of the paper, ran to tim's desk and leaned close to the receiver. he could hear the words which were being shouted into the transmitter at the other end of the line. the managing editor turned to ralph. "run to the composing room," he cried. "tell them to stand by for an extra. the storage tanks on the midwest oil company property west of town have caught fire and are exploding." ralph waited to hear no more, but ran to the composing room where he gave the managing editor's message to the foreman. then he hurried back to the editorial office. tim was scribbling a bulletin for the extra with one hand while he listened to the first report of the explosion. five or six men were missing. they might have been caught in the first blast or perhaps they had escaped and were too excited to report their safety. the managing editor took the story as fast as tim could write it, wrote a new banner line for the front page, and rushed the copy to the composing room. "who's talking?" he asked. "one of the mechanics from the airport," said tim. "the storage tanks are only a mile and a half from the field and he saw the first one let go. a man from the oil company is at the field now and they are getting the story from him." "is the _good news_ in condition to fly?" asked the managing editor. "just got word a few minutes ago she was ready to test," replied tim. "is it safe to go up on a picture assignment for photos of those burning oil tanks?" "if you'll pay for all the paint i scorch off the plane," said tim. "we'll pay for it," cried carson. "take ralph with you and get all the pictures you can. we'll want them for the city final. and whatever you do, don't let your motor cut out when you're over those burning tanks." "if it does you'll have to look for two new reporters," chuckled ralph. tim turned the telephone over to another reporter and they stopped only long enough to get a camera and make sure that it had a plentiful supply of plates. the editorial office was in an uproar. carson was shouting orders at everyone who came within hearing distance; reporters were running from the room, starting for the scene of the explosion; others were hastening to hospitals where injured might have been taken and one was delving into the files to compare the present disaster with fires of other years. a heavy pall of oily, black smoke blanketed the city and some streets were so dark the street lights had been turned on. tim and ralph ran to the nearby garage where the cars used by _news_ reporters were stored. they took the first machine available, a light, speedy roadster. tim climbed behind the wheel and they shot out of the garage. traffic down town was in a tangled jam that would take an hour to clear for the rumbling explosions from the oil tanks had alarmed the entire city. many people, believing that the city was about to fall on their heads, had hurried to their cars in an attempt to flee to the open country. now they were just as anxious to return to their homes. by sliding through alleys, tim managed to get to a fairly clear boulevard that led to the airport. a light breeze had started to clear the smoke from the air and tim stepped on the accelerator. the indicator on the speedometer climbed steadily--forty, forty-five and fifty miles an hour. "look out," cried ralph, "or we'll be picked up for speeding." "no chance," replied tim. "all the police are at the fire. we've got to make time if we want good pictures." tim and ralph were supremely happy as they sped toward the airport. they were going into the clouds again--into the clouds in quest of the news and the pictures. barely a year before the _news_ had purchased an airplane and tim had been assigned the duties of flying reporter. ralph had been selected to help and tim had trained his friend as a flyer. together they had uncovered some of the biggest stories of the year for the _news_ and their exploits had become exceedingly popular with the people of atkinson. in their first year of following the sky trails they had flown across the top of the world to prove that the ice and snow of the arctic did not cover a hitherto unknown continent; tim had flown down into old mexico and secured exclusive photographs of a rebel leader; and together they had brought about the death of the sky hawk, a former german war ace who had preyed on the air lines of the middle west. now they were off on a new adventure and their hearts beat faster as they neared the airport. to their right great billows of smoke mounted skyward from the burning storage tanks and occasionally tongues of flame could be seen as the fire made some new conquest. the airport was just beyond the city limits and its administration building and hangars flanked the boulevard. tim spun the roadster through the gate and stopped beside hanger no. . the broad doors of the hangar had been rolled open and the _good news_, its nose pointed toward the field, was waiting for them. the metal propeller was turning slowly as the engine idled. the fuselage had been painted a brilliant crimson with the wings a contrast in silver grey. carl hunter, quiet, efficient manager of the field, was waiting for them. "how does the new engine sound?" asked tim. "mighty sweet," replied hunter. "i haven't had her up for i knew you would want the first flight. however, i gave her a thorough test on the blocks and she never missed a stroke. boy, you've got some plane with that new horsepower radial motor. you'll do miles an hour and have plenty of power to spare." they hastened to the plane where tim and ralph made a quick but thorough inspection. the biplane had been overhauled and re-rigged during the winter with a new, more powerful motor. the _good news_ would be fifty miles an hour faster. the flying reporters climbed into their cockpits. ralph, who was to handle the camera, took the forward cockpit and tim handled the controls in the rear one. tim opened the throttle and listened attentively as he ran the motor up and down the scale. there was never a second's hesitation. hunter came close and shouted in tim's ear. "don't get too close to the fire," he cried. "the heat will raise the dickens with the air and it will be pretty rocky." tim nodded and motioned for the blocks to be cleared away. the _good news_ rolled easily out of the hangar, flipped its tail saucily at the few mechanics left at the field, and roared over the soggy ground and into the air. tim thrilled to the touch of the controls and the _good news_ answered even to the slightest movement of the stick. the new motor settled to its work in a manner that warmed tim's heart. he felt that he had reserve power for any emergency as he swung the biplane around and headed for the burning oil tanks. tim put the _good news_ in a steady climb and they gained altitude rapidly. at , feet he levelled off and ralph got busy with the camera. the oil storage lot, a large tract of level land, was dotted with a dozen large tanks. five of the tanks had caught fire and exploded, the force of the explosion knocking off the steel tops. these tops, like great black pancakes, had been blown clear of the tract. one of them had hurtled down to crush the roof of the house nearest the fire. the walls of two of the tanks had given way and tim and ralph could see the firemen fighting desperately to stop the spread of the flames. safety trenches had been a part of the protective system at the tank farm, but some of them had been weakened by the explosion and the flaming gasoline was finding the vulnerable spots. tim swung the _good news_ over the blazing storage tanks and even , feet in the air they could feel the heat. the plane danced crazily and ralph, who had been leaning far out, clutched the side of the plane and shook his fist at tim. the flying reporter snapped off the throttle and they glided down on a gentle incline, as the propeller turned slowly. "got enough pictures?" yelled tim. "three more plates left," shouted ralph. "let's go down where i can get some close ups. make a run for the fire at about four hundred feet; then zoom up just before we get there. that will give us some real pictures." "also scorch all the new paint off the ship," protested tim. "carson said he'd pay for a new coat," ralph reminded him and tim nodded and snapped on the switches again. the motor roared into action and they shot down out of the murky sky. at four hundred feet tim pulled back on the stick and the _good news_ levelled off. they were a mile west of the burning tank farm when he banked sharply and swung back toward the city. the clouds of smoke, rolling upward, were streaked with vivid flashes of flame. tim chilled as he thought of the fate that would be theirs if their plane failed to respond to the controls. he forced the thought from his mind and took a fresh grip on the stick. ralph glanced back and smiled. tim motioned to his own safety belt and directed ralph to strap himself into the plane. no telling what might happen in the next smoky-flame seared seconds. tim pushed the _good news_ into several tight banks while ralph strapped himself into the plane. then they were ready for their picture making dash. ralph trained his camera and glued his eyes to the sight. it would be a great action picture, awe inspiring in its power, if they could get it. tim, one hand on the stick and the other on the throttle, watched his air speed. it was increasing rapidly. half a mile from the burning tanks they were going one hundred and fifty miles an hour. a quarter of a mile away and their speed had increased to one hundred and seventy-five. then there was no more time to check the air speed. they were going fast enough and tim knew his motor had plenty of reserve power for any emergency. ralph, in the forward cockpit, was busy with his camera. two exposures of the rolling, mass of smoke and flame were made in the split seconds before tim threw the _good news_ into a steep zoom. the towering pillar of smoke was less than five hundred feet ahead of their propeller when tim put the pressure on the stick. the nose shot skyward and the _good news_ danced upward along the outer rim of smoke. ralph was ready for the final exposure when a terrific explosion and a wave of rag flame and heat tore the heavens asunder. the _good news_ leaped upward, bucking like a wild horse. tim, his eyebrows singed and lungs burning from the scorching heat, fought the controls. up, up, up pitched the _good news_, tossing wildly on the edge of the inferno of flame and smoke. the noise of the explosion had deadened their ears and neither ralph nor tim could hear the laboring of the motor as tim gave it full throttle. the new paint on the wings and fuselage curled and darkened in the heat and for a second tim thought the gasoline tank might explode. then above it all came the sound of a second explosion and the _good news_ stood up on its tail. tim was thankful that they had used their safety belts for he was almost thrown from the cockpit. out of the smoke hurtled a great piece of steel. tim heard ralph scream a warning but he was powerless. the _good news_ was out of control. fascinated by the sight of the great projectile which was approaching them with terrifying speed, tim lived an eternity. actually it might have been a second, probably it was less. the _good news_, falling tail downward, missed the deadly piece of steel by less than two feet. they were past one danger only to be confronted with another even more horrible to contemplate than the one they had just escaped. ralph, his eyes burning in his smoke-blackened face, was looking back at tim, trusting that the young flyer would be able to pull the _good news_ out of the tailspin. with a last despairing effort tim crashed his fist against the throttle. it leaped ahead a good inch. it had jammed in the emergency and he had not noticed it. more fuel flooded into the laboring cylinders and the motor, its full power unlashed, lifted them almost vertically into the sky. when they were out of danger and in the cool, clean air, tim brought the nose of the plane down and they headed for the airport. the _good news_ looked to be ready to take first prize at a fire sale. the entire ship was grimy from the heavy oil smoke and the dope on the wings and fuselage was curled and cracked from the terrific heat. tim nosed down over the airport and idled his motor as they skimmed to a perfect three point landing and rolled to a stop in front of their hangar. carl hunter ran to their plane. "you crazy news hounds," he cried. "i thought you were goners when those explosions caught you. how did you ever get out alive?" "we'll thank the new motor for saving our necks," replied tim. "we were in trouble, believe me. the throttle stuck and the engine wasn't getting all the gas. in a moment of desperation i smashed the throttle with my fist and opened it. a second later and we were climbing to safety." "good thing you made me strap myself in," grinned ralph, "or you would have lost your passenger when we took that wild west ride." "we were mighty lucky to get back," said tim. "next time we cover a fire on an oil tank farm we'll know enough to stay at a safe distance." "but think of the great action pictures we've got," said ralph. "i'm thinking of my own neck right now," replied tim. "when the second explosion came and that piece of steel picked us out for a target i just said good-bye to everything. while we're passing around the thanks for getting out alive we'll have to include old lady gravity. the _good news_ was dropping earthward just fast enough for us to escape." "we'd better get these pictures to the office so they can use them in the final," said ralph. "you take the camera and the car and go on," said tim. "i won't be needed at the office for a while and i want to check over the plane and see if it suffered any serious damage. tell carson he'll have to okay an order for another coat of paint." "i'll wait and see how the pictures come out before i tell him," chuckled ralph as he got in the roadster and started for the office. tim and hunter went over the _good news_ carefully, checking every joint and strut. then they gave the motor a thorough test. it was sweet and true. "a real plane," was the field manager's comment when they had completed their inspection. "after a test like the one to-day you can count on it carrying you through anything short of a hurricane." "i'm not so sure it wouldn't do that," said tim. "we'd better fill up the gasoline tank," he added. "never can tell when we may get an assignment that will call for another quick getaway." they refueled the ship and were rolling it back into the hangar when a car skidded through the gate. the managing editor and ralph were in the machine and from their haste tim knew that he would soon be in the clouds again on the trail of another big story. chapter two the managing editor of the _news_ jumped from the car before ralph brought it to a stop and ran toward tim. "can you start on another assignment right away?" he asked. "whenever you say, mr. carson," replied tim. "we've just made a complete check and the _good news_ isn't hurt in the least. she's refueled and ready to go." "then you're heading for cedar river valley," said the managing editor. "here's the situation. the village of auburn you took food and medical supplies to last spring when the cedar was on a rampage is in need of help again. the river is causing trouble and the worst ice jam in the history of the country is just above the village. this changeable weather has kept the river thawing and then freezing and thousands of tons of ice are piling up behind the jam. i want you and ralph to make a trip there this afternoon, survey the situation, get all the pictures you can, and report to me. when we know the size of the jam we can plan to get relief to them." "we'll be on our way in ten minutes," promised tim. "the people at auburn helped me when i was working on the sky hawk mystery and i'll be glad of the chance to do another favor for them." "in the excitement of this new story," said the managing editor, "i almost forgot to tell you how much i appreciate your fine work in getting the pictures of the fire at the oil tanks. i've never seen anything like them for action. they were so good we put out an extra with nothing but pictures on the front page. biggest selling extra ever published in atkinson." "they may prove fairly expensive by the time you pay the cost of a new coat of paint for the _good news_," said tim. "hang the cost of the paint," exclaimed the managing editor, "those pictures were worth $ to the paper. why the one showing that piece of steel hurtling up out of the smoke and flame is the best action picture ever taken." "the what!" said tim. "the picture showing that piece of steel coming toward you," repeated carson. "i'll explain," said ralph, and he turned to tim. "we had a lucky break," he continued. "when that explosion caught us i had only one plate left in the camera. in the excitement i snapped the shutter and it so happened that the camera was aimed to get that steel plate that almost wrote 'finish' for us." "we'll be able to sell that picture all over the country," said the managing editor, "and i'll see that you boys get half of whatever the paper makes on it." carl hunter came out of the administration building to report that the weather in the direction of cedar valley was fair. "better get into some heavier clothes," he warned, "for it will be pretty breezy up there if tim decides to step on the gas." "our winter flying outfits are all in town," said ralph. "guess we can make it this way." "i've got some spare clothes," suggested hunter. "some of them belong to 'tiny' lewis but they'll keep you warm at least." the young reporters laughed at the thought of wearing "tiny" lewis' flying togs. "tiny," was the exact opposite from his name. he was as round as a barrel and not much over five feet six in height. the boys followed hunter back to the administration building and made their way to the pilots' room. hunter opened several lockers and finally found the clothes he sought, heavy fleece-lined coveralls especially designed for cold weather flying. when the boys had donned their ill-fitting clothes they looked like a pair of aerial scare crows for their legs projected awkwardly from the suits, which were far too short for them. "throw a couple of robes over your legs and you'll be all right," suggested the field manager. "not for me," grinned tim. "ralph can bundle up all he wants to but i'm not going to have a blanket tangled around the stick just about the time i have to get into action." when the boys returned to no. hangar the mechanics had the _good news_ warmed up and on the line. the managing editor looked at his watch. "just a few minutes after one-thirty," he said, half to himself, half to his star reporters. then aloud he said, "you won't be able to get to auburn, snap your pictures and get back here in time for the city final. however, if you get some good shots we'll put out a five o'clock picture extra so step on it all the way." "we'll be back in less than two hours," promised tim. "wouldn't be able to do it with the old motor in the ship, but with this new power unit we'll do an hour steady over and back. the trip is about miles each way and with the time it takes for the pictures we'll make it in two hours easy." "then i'll have the engravers and the composing room stand by for a five o'clock picture extra," said the managing editor. "this will be a red-letter day in the history of the _news_--two picture extras in the same day and believe me, boys, that's what the readers want. pictures, action, and more pictures. now get going." ralph lifted his big camera into the front cockpit and settled himself for the trip. he wrapped a heavy robe around his legs for he knew tim was going to tear loose on the trip to auburn and even though it was moderately warm on the ground the air at two thousand feet would be chilly. tim checked his instruments, waved for the mechanics to get in the clear, and opened his throttle. the _good news_ lifted her tail off the muddy field, splattered the water out of half a dozen puddles, and then shot up into her own domain. the new radial motor, tested in flame and smoke little more than an hour before, leaped to its task and they sped away into the east. behind them the fire still raged at the oil tanks, but firemen appeared to have checked its spread. tim pushed the throttle steadily forward until the air speed indicator registered miles an hour. at , feet the ground was a dull, gray checkerboard beneath them. in places there were splotches of dirty snow, a last vestige of winter. creeks, silver ribbons winding through the countryside, were running bankfull of water. several times they sighted streams in which the outgoing ice had jammed around some bridge or sharp curve. behind these jams the stream had spread out until it formed a small lake. none of them were of major importance but at one bridge half a dozen men were busy trying to dynamite the mass of ice which was threatening the safety of the structure. as they neared the valley of the mighty cedar the country became rougher and there were fewer fields for an emergency landing. a plane in trouble in the valley would have small chance of making a safe descent. they were fifteen miles from auburn when they caught their first glimpse of the river, a great lake stretching for miles up its valley. then they saw the jumbled mass of ice above the village. the towering blocks had jammed at a sharp bend in the river and hundreds of tons of ice, born by the spring freshets, had built a great dam which was impounding the waters of the river. the bed of the stream below the ice jam carried little more than a trickle of water when compared to the usual volume. from the position of the jam tim could see that unless the pressure was relieved soon the water behind the ice, spreading out over the valley, would soon creep around the wings of the jam and sweep down on the village. the _good news_ slid down out of the clouds and swung over the scene of the impending disaster. the village was practically deserted. men and women were at the jam, working side by side in what appeared a futile effort to start the thousands of tons of ice moving down stream before their own homes were destroyed. tim guided the _good news_ up the valley, over the jam, and on up stream. the jam of ice extended nearly a half mile above the village. the river above that point, running free, was piling more ice on the jam, adding to the pressure which hourly threatened to let go and sweep everything before it. ralph, leaning far over the side of the plane, was busy with his camera. he motioned for tim to return to the village. there they took pictures of the practically deserted town and tim dropped low enough for ralph to get some good flashes of the men and women working along the edge of the ice jam. just a year before the villagers had helped tim when he was on the trail of the sky hawk and he felt that he owed them a real debt. they gazed upward as the plane sped over them but they did not recognize the scorched, blackened plane as the _good news_. tim and ralph waved eagerly, but there was no reply. the villagers were weighted down with despair. ralph indicated that he had used the last of the plates in the camera and tim swung the _good news_ into the west. he headed back for atkinson at miles an hour, the motor singing as they shot through the greying sky. the clouds were dropping on them and by the time they were half way to atkinson they had a ceiling of less than six hundred feet. tim tried to rise above the clouds, but they were massed solidly. he climbed to the five thousand foot level only to find himself lost in swirling vapor and with the air growing colder every minute. ice started to form on the wings of the _good news_ and tim realized the danger. the plane was harder to handle, slower to answer the controls. ralph sensed the danger of the higher altitude and motioned for tim to dive, but the flying reporter shook his head. he was too experienced an airman for a power dive when ice was gathering on his ship. to have nosed the ship down at miles an hour might be fatal for both of them. with the ceiling probably down to nothing they would flash out of the clouds at high speed with only a few hundred feet of clearance. normally they could get away with it but with the wings weighted down with ice one of them might snap off when he pulled back on the stick. it was too dangerous to risk. he decided to take his time, come down gradually, and fight the ice as best he could. the next ten minutes were an hour to tim as he eased the _good news_ toward the ground. little by little they lost altitude. the ship was loggy now with its burden of ice but he managed to keep it out of a dive and they finally levelled off at two hundred feet. even at that low altitude the clouds were brushing their wings but the air was warmer and the ice gradually disappeared from the wings. for a few minutes tim had been too busy with his own troubles to think about those of the villagers back at auburn, but the danger of the ice past his mind returned to them. it had been plain to him that unless something was done in the next few hours the massed ice would give way and march down the valley, sweeping everything before it. as towns went auburn wasn't much to brag about, but its people were friendly and the village was home to them. tim, an orphan, knew what it meant to be without a home and he resolved to do everything within his means to help the villagers. they roared over the suburbs of atkinson, sped across the heart of the city, and skidded over the ground to roll to a stop in front of their own hangar. the managing editor was waiting for them. "get the pictures o. k.?" he cried. "camera full of the best ice photos you ever saw," grinned ralph as he eased his cramped legs over the side of the plane and dropped to the muddy ground. "how is the situation in the valley?" asked the managing editor. "critical," replied tim as he shut off his engine. "i never saw so much ice in my life. the jam is at a sharp bend in the river just above the village. thousands and thousands of tons of ice has piled up there and the river is bringing down more every hour. the flow of water below the jam is practically shut off and it's spreading out above the ice. by tomorrow morning the whole thing will let go and that will be the end of the village." "what are the people doing?" carl hunter wanted to know. "everything they can do," said ralph. "all the men and women are out at the jam, working side by side. i saw them plant several charges of dynamite and they might just as well have been five inch firecrackers for all the good it did. there isn't enough dynamite in this part of the state to move that jam. they couldn't get it planted in time." "i wish we could do something to help them," said the managing editor thoughtfully. "if you really want to save the village," said tim, "i think i've got a plan that will work. listen." in a few words he outlined his plan. the managing editor listened thoughtfully. "sounds like it is the only chance of saving them, but you'll be running a mighty big risk, tim." "i'm willing to take the chance if you'll let me have the _good news_. i'll have to cover nearly a thousand miles before i can really start work." "the _good news_ and anything else you need is yours," promised the managing editor. "then i'll get ready and start at once," said tim. "count me in," added ralph. "not in this first trip," said tim. "i've got to fly fast and far and the less weight the faster i'll go. when i'm ready to start for auburn again i'll need you. in the meantime you see that we have at least a dozen flares ready to take with us for it will be midnight or later by the time we reach the valley again." ralph promised to have the parachute flares ready and then followed the managing editor to one of the _new's_ cars. an extra was being held up for the pictures in ralph's camera and after all his duty was to the paper first. tim turned the _good news_ over to the mechanics for refueling and went over to hunter's office to get warm and map out the course of his next flight. the field manager unfurled a roll of maps and helped tim check his plans. "you're going to get plenty of hours in the air today," he grinned. "i know it," smiled tim, "and only a little more than three hours ago i was grumbling because there wasn't more chance for any flying assignments this week." tim took a ruler and laid out his course, an air line from atkinson to fort armstrong, the nearest army post. it was a good five hundred miles and with certain weather ahead tim knew that he would have to count on three hours for the flight. he should be at the army post by seven o'clock. if he allowed himself one hour at the post he ought to be able to start back around o'clock. three more hours and he would be back in atkinson at o'clock. a stop to pick up ralph, make final arrangements and then into the air again for cedar river valley. every minute counted and after carefully checking his course tim hurried back to his plane. "aren't you going to telephone the fort you're coming?" asked the field manager. "carson promised to do that," replied tim. "i'll need his political pull to get the material i need at the fort. you phone carson when i take off. have him tell the army people i'll drop in on them about o'clock, wind and weather allowing." "you'll make it all right, tim," said carson, "but look out for ice if you go too high." "i had a taste of that coming back from the valley," said the flying reporter. "no more of that for me if i can help myself." enough gas for a four hour flight had been placed in the tanks of the _good news_. the engine, still warm, caught on the first turn and roared into action. tim adjusted the pack parachute carson had brought from the office, settled himself on his seat, and motioned "all clear." water and mud sprayed from the wheels as the _good news_ picked up speed. then it lifted off the heavy field, shook itself free of the mud, and climbed the low-hanging clouds. the ceiling was less than five hundred and by this time the afternoon was grey and a sharp breeze was zipping down out of the north. it would be a nasty night for flying over an unmarked and unlighted course. tim followed the air mail trail for half an hour and then turned to his left. fort armstrong was now almost straight south on an air line. with prairie country the flight would have been easy but tim knew that miles out of atkinson he would run into the flint hills, a branch of the great smoky mountains which wandered out into the prairie at a most inconvenient angle. if the ceiling was low over the flint hills, he would be in for a nasty half hour of flying. the first hour slid away as tim roared southward at nearly miles an hour. the thunder of his motor roused prairie villages from their winter lethargy and stampeded cattle on lonely farms. occasionally some farmer, surprised at his chores, shook his fist angrily as tim sailed over the chimney tops. the ceiling was still six hundred when tim sighted the first low ridge of hills that marked the flint range. he had flown over the territory only once before and that time when he was returning the year before from old mexico with exclusive pictures of a rebel leader. the hills were really ridges of rock, rearing their sharp, bleak heads into the air--a trap for any unwary flyer. to crash on those inhospitable crags would have meant the end for plane and pilot. tim lifted the _good news_ until his wing tips were brushing the massed clouds. six hundred and fifty was the highest he could go without burying himself in the clouds and flying blind, something which he did not relish. tim throttled down to half speed as he reached the first ridge of the flint hills. he cleared the tops of the crags by two hundred feet and was congratulating himself when another ridge loomed ahead of his spinning prop. the second one bulked higher and beyond he could see a third which buried its head in the low-hanging clouds. tim slid over the second ridge and then swung sharply to the right. perhaps he would find a gap in the third ridge which would let him through. for five minutes he sped along, hunting for some opening that would let him through. he was almost ready to make a blind attempt through the clouds when he caught sight of a break in the hills. it was not more than feet wide but tim took the chance, banked the _good news_ sharply, and dove for the opening. the hills closed in on him and dismal masses of rock on each side waited for him to crash. but he slid through the narrow break and found himself again over the prairie, the hills in the background. the rest of the trip to fort armstrong was easy going compared with the task of getting through the hills and tim sighted the lights of the army post at five minutes to seven. markers on the landing field flashed on when guards heard the sound of his motor and mechanics were waiting to guide his ship into a hangar when he landed and taxied up the runway. tim's body ached from the cold and his legs were stiff and cramped. a mechanic reached up and gave him a hand as he clambered out of the cockpit. an officer with a captain's bars on his shoulder, strode into the hangar. "we were expecting you, murphy," he said. "your managing editor telephoned that you were on your way and we've tried to have everything ready for you. how did you find the flint hills?" "they gave me the shivers for half an hour," admitted tim, "but i managed to find a gap in the third ridge and got through without burying myself in the clouds." "you were lucky," commented the army man who introduced himself as captain john nugent, in command of the air force at fort armstrong. "better come over to my quarters and get warm and have a snack to eat," suggested the army man. tim readily agreed for he was chilled to the bone and hungry. "i know you're anxious to start back," said captain nugent, "but you'll be more alert if you rest a few minutes and fill up with some hot food. i've had my boy keep things hot for you." "that's mighty nice of you," said tim, "and i expect i'll save time in the end if i take a few minutes rest here." when they reached the captain's quarters, the army man insisted that tim take off his things and enjoy a good meal. "have you planned your trip back?" he asked. "looks like i'll have to try the flint hills in the dark," said tim. "i've got to be in atkinson before midnight if my plan to help the people at auburn is going to work. i'm sure that ice jam will go before morning and if it does it's goodbye to that town." "if anything goes wrong with your ship in the hills with the load you'll be carrying, it will be curtains for you," said the army man. "i haven't had time to think about that," confessed tim. "as far as i can see it is the only way to get back in time. i'll have to bore up into the clouds and take a chance." "columbus took a chance and was lucky," said captain nugent. "however, you're not columbus and you've had just about your share of luck for one day. don't tempt fate too much." "i won't deliberately tempt fate," said tim, "but time counts tonight." "would half an hour make a great deal of difference?" "it might," replied the flying reporter. "half an hour isn't long when it comes to considering your own life." "but i must think of the people of auburn." "if you crash in the flint hills it won't help them." "true enough. but what else can i do?" "go around the hills." "that would take too much time." "not more than an extra half hour," countered the army man. "look at this map." they bent over the map on the table and the army officer pointed out what he considered tim's best route for the return flight to atkinson. "you'll have to swing to the east of the hills," he said, "but your flight will be over level country and you'll have a chance if anything goes wrong." "i believe you're right," agreed tim. "the last thing i'm looking for tonight is a crack-up." an orderly came in to announce that tim's plane was ready for the return trip. captain nugent put on a heavy coat and accompanied tim to the runway. the _good news_, outlined in the field's floodlights, was waiting for tim, motor idling. captain nugent climbed up to the forward cockpit and made a thorough inspection of the contents. satisfied that everything was ship-shape, he dropped back to the ground. "you've got an even dozen demolition bombs," he told tim. "the men didn't have time to rig a bomb rack on your plane but they did the next best thing. they put the 'eggs' in a hammock that will carry them without danger unless you happen to crack-up." "pleasant prospect," smiled tim. "but i don't think you'll have any trouble if you swing out around the flint hills," said the army officer. "say, what the dickens have you been doing to this plane?" he demanded as he noticed for the first time, the smoke-blackened condition of the wings. tim explained what had taken place earlier in the day and the army officer whistled as the flying reporter told how they had been caught by the explosion of the oil tanks. "if you've had a narrow escape like that today," said captain nugent, "i guess flying the hills at night won't bother you." "i've decided not to risk it," said tim. "i'm going to go around." "the air is getting sharper," said the army man. "sure you've got warm enough clothes? we'll be glad to lend you some extra togs if there is anything you need." "thanks a lot," said tim. "you've been mighty good to let me have these high explosive bombs. i won't need anything more and now i think i'd better get under way." tim climbed into the rear cockpit, tested the motor, and after waving farewell to captain nugent, sent the _good news_ skimming down the lighted runway. the motor barked lustily as the plane gained altitude, the lights of the fort armstrong were soon lost in the night. tim followed the course captain nugent had helped him lay out. for more than an hour he sped over the right-of-way of the southwestern railroad. mile after mile he was guided by the dim streaks of steel which were barely discernible in the darkness. the railroad skimmed the east end of the flint hills and when the lights of macon showed in the distance tim knew he was around the worst barrier. the dreaded hills now lay to his left and behind. he glanced at his watch. he was making good time. with no unforeseen emergencies he would be in atkinson by eleven. the sky had lightened somewhat and tim now had a ceiling of , feet. with a greater margin of safety, he opened the throttle wide and the _good news_ bored into the night. in the dim light of the instrument board tim could see the needle on the air speed indicator hovering near the -mile an hour mark. he was making more than three miles a minute. that was time! it was faster than tim had ever traveled. then the indicator crept on up. two hundred and five and then it wavered at two hundred and ten. the motor was not turning over any faster than a minute or two before so tim knew he must have picked up a good tail wind. let'er go! the sooner he reached atkinson the sooner he would be on the last lap of his trip to auburn and the nearer the completion of his plans for the salvation of the village. on he roared through the night and the lights of small towns were little more than blurs in a magic carpet. far ahead the lights of atkinson reflected against the clouds and four minutes later tim was throttling down the motor preparatory to gliding into the airport. for the first time since leaving fort armstrong the load of high explosive bombs which he had obtained at the army post worried him. supposing he struck a mud puddle and nosed over? one blinding, shattering blast and it would be all over. so much depended on the success of his landing that he dared not think of failure. the flood lights came on and bathed the field in a chilling blue brilliance. tim cut his motor and sidled down, killing speed every second. he glanced at his watch. ten fifty-five; five minutes to the good. he was less than two hundred feet above the field when the deafening roar of an incoming tri-motored passenger and express plane drowned the sound of his own motor. tim looked up and froze at his controls. the tri-motor was coming in from the left, and their paths would cross in less than feet. chapter three tim could see lights gleaming from the windows of the tri-motor. it was the westbound transcontinental more than an hour late and its pilots were bringing it in fast in an attempt to make up every minute possible. the distance between the planes narrowed rapidly. the _good news_ had almost lost flying speed, was drifting in, when tim first sighted the tri-motor and he was powerless to change his course. he jammed the throttle open and the motor coughed as the raw fuel leaped into the white-hot cylinders. there was only one chance; that he could get up enough speed to throw the _good news_ into a nose dive. he could avoid the tri-motor that way but his own chances of coming out of the dive would be slim. in that split second tim made his decision. he would attempt the dive. there were probably women and children on the tri-motor for the night plane usually carried a heavy passenger list. if the two planes met they would all be blown to eternity. the _good news_ picked up momentum again and tim shoved the nose down. just as he pushed the stick ahead he heard the engines of the tri-motor quicken their stride. evidently the pilots of the big ship had seen him and were making a desperate effort to avert the collision. tim hoped they would have enough sense to climb. the _good news_ quivered under the sudden strain of the maneuver and tim saw the ground race up to meet him. the undercarriage of the tri-motor almost brushed the upper wing of the _good news_. then the planes were clear but the _good news_ was diving toward the field. tim had only one hope. he pulled back on the stick and closed his eyes. he could feel the ship falling, then the pitch of the descent lessened. he opened his eyes. the _good news_ was skimming along the field with its wheels less than five feet from the ground. tim looked up for the tri-motor. it was circling, waiting for him to land. the flying reporter lifted the _good news_ up again for he was going too fast to attempt a landing. he swung around and then dropped down on the field, checking his speed with a delicate hand lest he bump hard enough to set off the "eggs" cradled in the forward cockpit. the _good news_ rolled to a stop in front of its hangar. carson, hunter, ralph and a group of mechanics were waiting for tim. they were white and shaky for they had seen how death had ridden on the wings of the two incoming planes only a minute before. "tim, tim," cried ralph in a choked voice, "i thought you were a goner." "so did i," admitted tim, and for once he found it hard to smile. "i'll report those flying yahoos," stormed the usually mild-mannered hunter. "they'll be grounded for thirty days for pulling a reckless landing like that. you had the right of way and they attempted to cut in on you. here they come now." the tri-motor had come to a stop on the concrete apron in front of the administration building and its pilots sprinted toward the no. hangar. they were red-faced and shaking with anger. "what's the idea?" stormed the first one as he addressed tim. "you crazy, flying fool, you almost wrecked us. i've a good notion to beat up on you." "shut up!" the words whipped through the night and the angry pilot turned to face the field manager. "but this nut almost wrecked us," he protested as he pointed at tim. "shut up!" cried hunter and he almost choked with rage, "if anybody here is going to get a licking you're one of them. you cut in on murphy. we had given him the right-of-way and you barged down and almost ran him into the ground. as it happens he was on special duty tonight, flying in here from fort armstrong. you may have something to explain to uncle sam and the least you'll hear about this will be thirty days on the ground without pay." "you can't get away with that," protested the second flyer. "why this kid was trying to beat us in." "i'll get away with it and i may have your skins to boot," promised carson. "you're so all-fired smart, suppose you step over here and take a look at the load murphy is carrying tonight." the pilots of the big transport followed hunter to the _good news_ where they peered into the forward cockpit. "bombs!" exclaimed one. "we'd have been blown to pieces if we had met in the air," gasped the other. "which is just exactly the reason murphy took such a desperate chance to avoid hitting you," exclaimed hunter. "do you still want to beat up on him?" "not on your life," said the transport pilots and they turned to tim to offer their apologies. "we are lucky to be here," said tim as the tri-motor men stammered their appreciation. ralph, who had gained control of his emotions, busied himself loading a dozen parachute flares into the forward cockpit. by : the _good news_ had been refueled for the flight to auburn. "what are the latest reports?" asked tim. "the ice is piling up every hour," said the managing editor. "people in the village have started to move their belongings and they expect the town will be swept away before morning." "have they been warned to watch for us and get in the clear when we start dropping the bombs?" "everyone has been ordered to be in the clear by midnight. before they leave they will build large fires along the bank of the river to guide you." "that's a good idea," said tim. "all set," he called to ralph, who had taken his place in the forward cockpit, squeezed in between high explosive bombs and parachute flares. "all ready," replied ralph. "only take it easy. i don't want to be part of another explosion today." "don't worry," said tim. "i'll handle the ship like we were carrying a basket of easter eggs." tim settled himself for the flight to auburn and a minute later the _good news_ was winging its way into the east. the safety of the village depended on the success of their efforts. within the next hour and tim and ralph realized the seriousness of their mission. they sped into the night at a chilling pace and both reporters welcomed the signal fires which marked the course of the river. it was just before midnight when they swung down out of the sky to reconnoiter the ice jam. ralph dropped a parachute flare which lighted the country-side for half a mile around. there was no one in the vicinity of the jam and the village had been deserted. tim inspected the face of the jam closely, hunting for the key point where the pressure was greatest. up and down the river they cruised while ralph lighted three more flares. finally tim was satisfied that he had picked out the vulnerable spots in the jam and he motioned for ralph to get ready with the bombs. by pre-arranged signal ralph was to drop a bomb over board every time tim raised his left arm. several of the flares had dropped on the ice and there was plenty of light. tim's arm jerked upward and a small, black object hurtled down from the plane. the night was torn by a blinding flash followed by an ear-shattering roar. a geyser of ice and water mounted upward from the point where the bomb had struck. "score one," cried ralph as he prepared another bomb. tim nodded grimly. the explosion had been spectacular but he wondered how much it had weakened the jam. ralph dropped two more parachute flares and before their light had faded they had time to plant four bombs. more flares and more bombs. they honeycombed the face of the jam with the high-explosive missiles and above the sound of their own plane they could hear the angry grumble of the river as the restless water, impounded by the ice barrier, sought to continue its journey down stream. they had one flare and two bombs left and they had failed to break the jam. tim motioned for ralph to light one of the two remaining flares and in the calcium glare he made a final survey of the river. his arm moved quickly and ralph tossed out the last of the bombs. they watched the little black objects speed toward the ice; then saw them swallowed in mounting sprays of ice and water. tim could hear ralph's shout of victory above the sound of their own motor and the rumble of the river as the waters, the ice barrier finally broken, started down stream. the river was a heaving, moving mass of ice. great cakes leaped high into the air and came down with thundering crashes as the pressure of the water was unleashed. tim watched the breaking of the jam with apprehension. there was just a chance that the river might rush over its banks and sweep away the village but if he had calculated right the force of the onrushing water would be expended on the far side of the valley. the light from the fires on the edge of the river reflected dully on the scene and was not sufficient to show them what was taking place. after five minutes of anxious cruising, tim yelled to ralph to light the last of their flares. the brilliant white light revealed a scene majestic in its power yet terrible in its uncontrolled fury. thousands of tons of ice were moving down stream, sweeping everything before them but they were moving in the direction tim had planned. the ice was piling over the banks of the river, leveling great trees, crushing the few barns and small buildings on the far side of the river, but the village itself was safe and already the villagers were starting to return to their homes. a dozen men who had come down to the river bank to watch the ice go out waved their thanks at the flying reporters. with his goal reached and success at hand, tim felt a great drowziness creep over him. his hand lost its firm grip on the stick and his eyes closed in spite of himself. he managed to shake off the fatigue and shouted to ralph to take the plane. ralph fitted the extra stick in the control socket in the forward cockpit and waggled the controls, indicating that he was ready. the _good news_ turned away from auburn, away from the tumbling mass of ice in the cedar river, and sped toward home. tim, exhausted by the strenuous experiences of the day, dropped into a deep slumber and did not awaken until ralph plopped into a mud puddle on their home field. chapter four the story of the flying reporters and their successful effort to break the ice jam which threatened auburn was the front page news the next day. tim and ralph collaborated in writing the story of their night flights and the managing editor wrote a front page editorial praising them for their heroism and devotion to duty. a telegram from the mayor of auburn, in which he expressed the appreciation and gratefulness of the residents of the village, was also printed in a box on the front page. dan watkins, the veteran chief of the copy desk, smiled at tim when the first edition came off the press. "looks like you and ralph have just about monopolized the front page," said the gray-haired copyreader. "i'd just as soon not be there," said tim. "i know, i know," said watkins, "but it is all fine advertising for the _news_. wonder if you chaps will get a raise or a bonus." "i wasn't looking for either one when i decided to make the attempt," said tim. "i only thought of those poor folks in the valley who were faced with the loss of their homes if the jam broke." "i know you weren't looking for personal gain or glory," replied the copyreader, who had long been a friend and valued adviser of tim's. "you do what you think is right; that's one reason why you are invaluable to the _news_. last night the managing editor paced the floor every minute you were in the air. keep at it, tim, and one of these days you'll be the managing editor of some large paper." after the noon edition was on the press the managing editor summoned tim and ralph to his desk. "what about the condition of the _good news_?" he asked tim. "you'll have to pay for a complete repaint job, mr. carson," said tim. "the ship was badly scorched and smoked up when we got caught in the explosion over the flaming oil tanks. it ought to have the rigging thoroughly checked to see that nothing was sprung in the hard flying i did the rest of the day." "all right, tim," said the managing editor. "you and ralph take the afternoon off, go out to the field, and get a crew started on the repainting. never can tell when we'll need the plane in another emergency and it has become invaluable." "then the stories we've uncovered in the last year have justified the expense of the plane?" tim asked eagerly. "no question about it," replied the managing editor. "you have done far more than either the business manager or i expected and your aviation column is one of our best news features. the only thing i worry about is that you boys will crash one of these days." "don't worry about that," put in ralph. "there is little danger for we have a good ship and we try not to take unnecessary chances." tim and ralph went to the administration building when they reached the airport. they found carl hunter in his office. "hello, heroes," he called, whereupon tim and ralph gave him a good-natured pummeling that left them all breathless. "now that the cyclone is over," smiled the field manager, "i suppose you want something." "you're right for once," said tim. "we want you to put a crew on repainting the _good news_ and checking up on the rigging. carson said to get it done in a hurry for we may need the ship at any time." "i had a hunch you'd breeze in sometime today with a request like that," replied the field manager, "and i'm one up on you. a couple of painters are waiting in the hangar now. same color job as before?" "the same," said tim, "and i hope this one will last longer than the one we scorched off." "you may not be so lucky the next time you start flirting with burning tanks of oil," warned hunter. "there won't be any next time," promised ralph. "we've had our fill of those thrills. no more dodging a chunk of steel that's intent on destroying us. honestly, i lived a whole lifetime in that split second." hunter and the young reporters left the administration building and walked to hangar no. . the scorched and blackened plane that reposed inside was hardly recognizable as the _good news_. hunter gave his instructions to the painters and they started cleaning the wings and fuselage preparatory to repainting the plane. several mechanics were summoned and they set about the task of making a thorough check of the motor and the rigging of the _good news_. when they left the hangar and started back for their car, a raw, wet wind cut through their clothes. "feels like another blizzard is getting ready to descend on us," remarked ralph as he scanned the sky. "weather report says 'continued cloudy'," replied the field manager, "and i'm hoping it's right. another blizzard would raise havoc with us. everyone of our planes is carrying its capacity of mail and we're making every possible effort to keep on schedule." "ralph is inclined to be pessimistic today," laughed tim. "he's always predicting a blizzard or cloudburst." a clerk ran out of the administration building and called to them. "you're wanted on the telephone," he told tim. the flying reporter hurried to answer the summons. when he rejoined ralph several minutes later his face was grave. "something's in the wind," he said. "carson just phoned from the office and wants us to go to town as fast as we can." "have any idea what he wants?" asked ralph as they climbed into the roadster which had brought them to the field. "not a glimmer," replied tim. "there is something mighty mysterious. he talked so low i could hardly hear what he said. we're not to go to the office. carson will meet us in room at the hotel jefferson." "sounds like secret service," said ralph. "that might not be so far wrong," replied tim thoughtfully. fifteen minutes later the reporters entered the hotel jefferson and made their way to the third floor. they stopped at the door of room and tim knocked. the door was opened by the managing editor of the _news_, who motioned for them to enter the room. there were two men beside the managing editor in the room when tim and ralph entered. they were strangers to the reporters and they waited for carson to introduce them. "when i introduce these men," carson told his reporters, "you'll know why i had you come to the hotel." the managing editor turned to the older of the strangers, a heavy-set, gray-haired man whose eyes were of an unusual, penetrating blue. "boys," he said, "i want you to know col. robert searle, head of the state police department." tim and ralph felt their pulses quicken as they heard the name of the visitor. the managing editor turned to introduce the second man, who was taller than searle and younger by several years. "and i also want you to know," went on the managing editor, "captain ned raymond of the bureau of investigation of the state police." tim and ralph acknowledged the introductions and sat down on the bed. they waited for the managing editor to continue. "these men have called on us for assistance," explained carson. "i want them to tell you their troubles and the final decision on what you do will be up to you." colonel searle moved restlessly. "i've heard a great deal about you boys," he said "especially in connection with the sky hawk. you did great work there but i thought you were older." "an older man wouldn't be as fast, as alert, as tim and ralph," said their managing editor. "perhaps you're right," agreed colonel searle. "captain raymond and i are playing a hunch," he went on, "and we have both agreed that if this hunch comes true we are going to need your aid. the airplane has placed an entirely new means of escape in the hands of criminals and we must be ready to combat this. with the present economy policy of the state legislature it would be impossible for us to secure funds for the training of our troopers as pilots or for the purchase of an airplane. for that reason we came here today to appeal to your managing editor." the head of the state police paused for a moment. "interested?" he asked. "go on," chorused tim and ralph. "what we have in mind," continued colonel searle, "is deputising you two for special service. if any emergency arises in which we need an airplane in this section of the state, you would be available. it would also insure your paper of being in first on big news stories." "if mr. carson is favorable," said tim, "you can count on ralph and me." "just a minute," put in captain raymond. "one thing more. there has been a change in the political set-up in dearborn and as a result many criminals are going to be driven out of that city and forced to other fields. it will be natural for some of them to transfer their activities to this state. if they come, as we confidently expect, they will be more dangerous than the average bandit. and remember, the sky hawk is gone but some of his men are still alive. through special police channels we have learned that several of them have banded together again and have been operating in and near dearborn. if they decide to come back this way your mission might be doubly dangerous." "they couldn't be any worse than the sky hawk," said ralph. "in that case," said colonel searle, "i consider it an honor and a privilege to appoint you as special and secret members of the state police." captain raymond produced the records which tim and ralph were to sign and in less than five minutes they were in the state police. colonel searle gave them identification cards and the small gold eagle which also indicated their position. "we may not need you," said captain raymond, "but if things come out as i predict, it won't be long before part of the sky hawk's old gang will be back. the hawk is gone, thanks to you boys, but the memory of his methods and daring lives on in the minds of the men who associated with him." as the newspaper men prepared to leave, colonel searle added a final word of caution. "remember, not a word about our meeting here to anyone. if it becomes known in any way, that we have enlisted you as special agents, it might expose you to needless danger. that's why we had you meet us here instead of in your office." tim and ralph were the first to leave room . in spite of their excitement they did not speak until they were back in their car where their conversation could not be overheard. "what do you think of it?" asked ralph. "looks like the state police are expecting serious trouble and are getting ready for it." "you mean the sky hawk's old gang?" "exactly." "i thought they were through when we got the sky hawk," said ralph. "i had hoped so," said tim, "but i guess it was too good to be true. if they do come this way, they won't have any love for us." ralph looked down at the little gold eagle in the palm of his hand. "at least we'll have the power of the state police behind us," he said. "and we'll probably need it," added tim. chapter five tim and ralph returned to the _news_ office where tim busied himself writing copy for his aviation column in the next day's paper. among the letters he found on his desk was one from the news director of the transcontinental air mail company at san francisco. the letter contained an announcement of the company plans to increase their passenger and air mail service to three trips a day each way across country. it would mean the inauguration of the most auspicious air transport program in the country. the letter went on to say that giant tri-motored biplanes, capable of carrying passengers and half a ton of mail or express, were being completed in the transcontinental's shops. a half dozen of the new planes would be put in service with the opening of the new schedule and a dozen more would be completed as rapidly as possible. the letter indicated that all of the planes would stop at atkinson, which meant tim's home city would have the best transcontinental air service in the country. the story was news, big news, and he devoted the remainder of the afternoon to writing it. he got in touch with carl hunter at the field and learned that hunter had just received instructions to put on an extra ground crew. the postmaster supplied information on the value of the increased air mail service to bankers and business men and when tim had finished gathering his material he had enough for a two column story. the young aviation editor of the _news_ worked until six o'clock, went out for a hasty dinner, and returned to the office to complete his story. the aviation copy must be ready the first thing in the morning to send to the waiting linotypes. tim checked the facts in his story carefully. when he finished reading it over he felt that it was a creditable news story, certainly it was interesting and he thought it fairly well written. ralph, who had been sent out late in the afternoon to cover a service club dinner, came stamping into the office. "of all the hot air," he exploded, "i've listened to a prize assortment in the last hour and a half. i'm always getting stuck for some assignment like this." tim had little sympathy to offer and ralph went over to his typewriter and banged savagely at the keys. at nine o'clock the boys decided to call it a day. tim had written the last line of copy for his aviation department and ralph had managed to finish his story on the dinner. the air was raw and bitter when they reached the street and heavy clouds obscured the stars. "nasty night for the air mail," commented tim as he turned up the collar of his coat. "going to snow before morning," predicted ralph. "hope you're wrong," replied tim. "we've had enough winter. i'm ready for spring." the young reporters walked to the corner where they boarded different street cars. ralph started home and tim went to his room. tim undressed when he reached his room, selected an interesting adventure novel, and stretched out on his bed to read. lost in the thrilling exploits of the hero of the novel, he did not notice the passage of time. the coolness of the room finally aroused him and when he looked at the clock it was nearly midnight. tim got up and felt the radiator. it was cold and the wind was whistling in the eaves outside his window. he looked down into the street. faint swirls of snow danced along the paving and while he watched the air became thick with snowflakes. the wind was increasing, whipping the snow into a blizzard. tim could hardly see beyond the first street light. he looked at the clock again. it would be tough on the air mail flyers if they were between landing fields or in the great smokies when the storm broke. the rugged peaks of the mountains would be merciless on such a night. tim turned to the telephone and called the municipal airport. after an interval carl hunter answered. "how is the mail?" asked tim. "getting a bad break," snapped hunter. "the storm dropped like a blanket and two of the ships were caught in the great smokies. we haven't heard from either the eastbound or the westbound for more than half an hour." "what are you going to do?" "nothing until the storm breaks." "and then?" "send out rescue planes if i can find anyone to fly them. all of the mail pilots are on the east end of the division and even if the storm lets up at daybreak it will be noon before they can get here." "you can count ralph and me for anything we can do," promised tim. "thanks a lot," replied the field manager. "i'd appreciate it if you would come out now. i'm here all alone and my nerves are getting jumpy in the storm. bring plenty of heavy clothes for the temperature is dropping fast. may be near zero by morning." tim promised to go to the field at once and after hunter had hung up the receiver telephoned for ralph. a sleepy-sounding voice finally answered his summons and in a few words tim explained what was needed. "i'll throw on some clothes and hop a cab for the field," said ralph, all thought of sleep having vanished. tim dressed carefully and warmly for he had a hunch it would be a good many hours before he saw bed again and from past experiences he was wise enough to follow his hunch. the flying reporter phoned for a cab and then went downstairs to await its arrival. he stopped at the door of his landlady's room and slipped a note under to tell of his sudden departure. then he went into the front hallway. the lights of a cab gleamed dimly through the snow and tim hastened out into the storm. the taxi driver, heavily bundled, grunted as tim gave his destination. "sure you want to get to the airport?" demanded the driver. "can't you make it?" asked tim. "don't know," replied the taxi man. "the snow is drifting fast and that road is bad on a night like this." "see how far you can get," said tim as he climbed into the cab. with a grinding of gears the cab moved into the storm. the snow was falling in a solid blanket that obscured even the buildings flanking the street. lights were visible for only a few feet and tim and the driver felt as though they were in a world of their own. once or twice the cab slid into the curb but each time the driver managed to keep it under way and they finally pulled through the gate at the airport. tim told the driver to charge the trip to the _news_ and was about to enter the administration building when another cab jolted to a stop. ralph, bundled in a heavy coat, hopped out and followed tim into the field manager's office. hunter, a radiophone headset at his ears, was listening intently to an air mail report. he motioned for the boys to take chairs and went on with his work. the reporters waited until hunter had finished taking the message. "what news now?" asked tim. "bad news," replied the field manager. "two planes lost somewhere in the great smokies. it's a cinch that the storm forced them down and you know how much chance there is of making a safe set-down on a night like this." "who were on the ships?" ralph wanted to know. "tiny lewis was coming east and george mitchell was on the westbound," replied hunter. "they don't make any better flyers than those two," commented tim. "but they can't buck a storm like this," hunter reminded. "why, man alive, you can't see ten feet ahead of you." "maybe they had a break and landed when the first flakes started down," suggested ralph. "you're too optimistic," replied the field manager. "this storm wasn't on the weather charts. it just dropped down from nowhere. i don't believe those ships could have stayed up two minutes after they nosed into the storm and neither one of the pilots had time to use their radio-phones." "good thing they had parachutes," said ralph. "i'm afraid chutes wouldn't do them much good," said tim. "they wouldn't have time to use them and wouldn't know where they were going if they did. we'll find lewis and mitchell with the planes." conversation stopped. there was no use to say anything more. they knew the air mail pilots had stuck by their ships. when the storm cleared they would find the ships and the pilots and they only hoped that in some miraculous fashion the ships had not crashed too hard. at four o'clock the storm lessened and the wind abated. at five o'clock there was only a trace of snow in the air and at six o'clock the mechanics had struggled through the drifts from town and were warming up two reserve mail planes. the _good news_, its fuselage damp from the coat of paint, was in no condition to take the air and hunter had placed two of the transcontinental's planes at the disposal of the flying reporters. tim and ralph loaded thermos bottles of hot chocolate into the cockpits of their planes, put in first aid kits, ropes and hand axes and generally prepared for any emergency that might confront them. abundant supplies of extra blankets were tossed into the mail compartment ahead of the pilot's cockpit and the hood was strapped down. the motors of the great green and silver biplanes droned steadily as tim and ralph seated themselves at the controls. "locate them first," hunter shouted to the reporters. "if you can't land and bring them out yourselves, come back and get help. good luck and--hurry!" tim and ralph fully understood the urgency of their mission and they swung the tails of their planes around, opened the throttles and bounced over the field in a smother of snow. the mail planes, their horsepower motors barking in the near zero weather, lifted off the field and sailed away toward the great smokies. somewhere hidden in the dim peaks to the west were the air mail planes and their pilots. chapter six the heavy mail plane was much different from the _good news_ and tim spent the first five minutes in the air getting used to the controls and the feel of the ship. the air speed indicator showed one hundred ten miles an hour with a quartering wind. the sky was clear and the cold air made him thankful for the heavy flying clothes he had donned before climbing into the ship. the flying reporters had mapped out their plan of action before leaving the field at atkinson. tim was to search for lewis while ralph would hunt for mitchell. lewis, on the eastbound plane, would have been the farthest from the atkinson field, and tim gunned his ship hard as he headed for the mountains. the frosty peaks of the great smokies loomed ahead of the churning propeller, ready to snag any unfortunate plane and pilot. tim adjusted his headset and tuned the radiophone in on the station at atkinson. hunter was talking with the air mail station west of the mountains when tim broke in with his buzzer signal. "any news?" he asked. "not a word," replied the field manager. "looks like whatever rescuing is done today will have to be handled by you and ralph. we won't have extra ships and pilots here until nightfall and that will be too late. you'll have to find lewis and mitchell today." "we'll find them if it is humanly possible," promised tim. they were well into the foothills of the mountains when ralph signaled that he was going to start his search for mitchell, who had been on the westbound ship the night before. ralph circled downward while tim continued his dash toward the formidable, rocky crests in the west. according to all the information available, lewis should have been on the east side of the divide. five minutes before the blizzard struck he had radiophoned that he was about to cross the crest of the range. tim had been up an hour and a half when he reached the higher slopes and precipices of the mountains. he shoved the mail plane up and up until he was almost to the divide before he started his detailed search for the missing plane and pilot. back and forth tim cruised the mail plane, dodging in and out of canyons, circling over sheer precipices that fell away for a thousand feet, scanning the snow and the rocks for some sign. the powerful motor was using great quantities of fuel and tim watched the gasoline gauge with an anxious eye. at nine o'clock he had fuel for a little more than another hour of flying. to have gone back to atkinson was out of the question. he would land at some village or ranch in the foothills, replenish his gasoline tanks, and resume the search. half an hour later he switched on the radiophone and informed the field manager that he was temporarily abandoning his search. hunter directed tim to the nearest ranch where fuel would be available and the flying reporter snapped off the radiophone and glided down off the divide. ten minutes later he swung low over ranch buildings which nestled in a sheltered valley in the foothills. below the buildings was a level meadow, the only piece of ground that appeared safe to attempt a landing. the noise of the airplane motor brought men from the ranch buildings and tim waved at them. smoke coming from a chimney of the ranch house gave him his wind direction and he dropped down on the meadow to make a careful survey. the field, although covered by six or seven inches of snow, appeared level. tim gunned the motor, banked sharply, and fishtailed down. the mail plane landed hard, bounced on a low ridge, threatened to dig its nose into a drift, and finally straightened out, coming to a standstill not more than ten feet from a barbed wire fence. the flying reporter unfastened his safety belt and stood up in the cockpit. his legs ached with the cold, which had crept through his heavy boots and clothing to chill the very marrow of his bones. half a dozen cowboys plowed through the drifted snow. they greeted tim with cheery cries. "you're off the trail, big boy," said the first cowboy to reach the plane. "i'm all right," replied tim, "but i've been out all morning looking for one of the air mail ships that was lost in the blizzard last night." "someone get caught in the mountains?" another cowboy asked. "two planes," replied tim. "one of them was the westbound ship and the other was eastbound. they were last heard from just before the blizzard closed down." "gosh," said the first cowboy, "the great smokies are a tough bunch of hills for anyone to be caught in a storm." "we've got two planes out searching for them," explained tim. "i ran low on gas and thought maybe you fellows would have some at the ranch you could spare. it would save me a long trip back to atkinson." a heavy-set, red-faced man had made his way to the green and silver mail plane. he had overheard tim's request and stepped up to the plane to introduce himself. "i'm hank cummins, owner of the circle four ranch," he said. "you're welcome to all the gasoline you need and anything else we can do to help you." tim introduced himself and found that the owner of the circle four and all of his men had read of his exploits as the flying reporter. "you're one of the fellows who got the sky hawk last year!" exclaimed a cowboy. tim grinned and nodded. the owner of the ranch started giving orders and the cowboys hurried away to fill cans with gasoline and replenish the nearly empty fuel tanks of the mail plane. tim crawled stiffly from the cockpit. it felt good to be on the ground again with a chance to exercise his stiffened muscles. he flailed his arms to bring back the circulation and stamped his feet on the ground. in five minutes the cowboys were back with the heavy cans of gasoline and tim directed their efforts. a short time later and the mail plane was ready to go again. "better come up to the house and have a snack to eat before you start," urged mr. cummins. "i haven't any time to spare," replied tim. "it will be time saved," said the ranch owner. "you get some warm food inside and you'll be a lot more alert. come on up to the house and sit down at the table for a few minutes." tim finally agreed and accompanied the rancher to the house. a chinese cook served hot coffee, bacon and eggs and the food gave tim new courage and enthusiasm to resume his gruelling search. when the flying reporter returned to the meadow he found that the cowboys had appointed themselves a ground crew and had turned the mail plane around. several of them, armed with shovels, were busy clearing a path through a heavy drift that extended across the middle of the field. tim thanked mr. cummins for his kindness and promised to send a check to cover the bill for the gasoline. "that's all right," laughed the rancher. "we're glad to be able to help you." the flying reporter climbed into the cockpit, switched on the starter, and heard the motor roar on the second or third time over. the propeller spewed fine snow in every direction and the cowboys ran for shelter before the driving white particles. tim throttled down, aimed his plane down the makeshift runway, and gave her the gun. the mail ship bounced over the frozen surface of the meadow, swung dangerously as the wheels bit into the soft snow which the cowboys had attempted to clear away, and finally nosed into the air. tim took his time in gaining altitude and then swung back over the ranch. he waved at the group below and could see them reply. then he headed into the west to resume his search on the treacherous slopes of the great smokies. noon found tim deep in the fastnesses of the mountains, searching obscure pockets and canyons, then roaring along thinly forested slopes where a motor failure would have spelled instant destruction. one o'clock. two o'clock. still there was no trace of the missing plane. the sun had cleared away the clouds of the morning and the visibility was good. the air was a little warmer but tim was forced to beat his arms against his body to keep them from stiffening in the cold. the supply of gasoline he had obtained at the ranch was getting low when he knew that he was near the end of the search. there was just enough to explore a distant tier of peaks that swung off to his right. not much chance of the mail being that far off the regular airway but he didn't dare let any possibility escape. tim scanned the broken walls of rock ahead. there seemed little chance that a pilot could escape if his plane crashed in such a country. the flying reporter was about to abandon his search when something on the crest of a jagged ridge drew his attention. he swung the mail ship nearer and circled down for a closer view. it looked--it looked--yes, it was, the tail of an air mail plane sticking up above the rocks. tim stood up in the cockpit and cried aloud. he had found the eastbound mail! was there a chance that the pilot had survived the crash? the question raced through tim's mind and he sent the air mail plane hurtling downward. he levelled off two feet above the peak which had impaled the eastbound mail and circled carefully. he made two complete swings and there was no sign of life in the wrecked plane. lewis, pilot of the eastbound, must have been flying blind, attempting to make a landing, when he struck the crag. the mail had evidently hit the peak at a sharp downward angle. the tail had been ripped off and left to serve as a solitary beacon which eventually brought tim to the scene. the rest of the plane had skidded and bounced along the far slope of the mountain for more than a hundred feet, finally coming to rest in a small clump of straggling mountain pine. the tough tree trunks had crumpled the wings back along the fuselage and tim had to admit that it was just about as complete a washout as he had ever seen. there was no ledge along the mountain on which he could make a landing and he had about decided to return to atkinson and report when a slight movement in the wreckage attracted his attention. tim dropped the heavy mail plane as low as he dared and cut his motor down to a minimum. he was not more than fifty feet above the clump of pines which held the wreck of the air mail. from the splintered wood and canvas he saw an arm emerge and then the face of tiny lewis, one of the best pilots in the service. the flying reporter was low enough to glimpse the wild stare in lewis's eyes and he knew that the pilot had been knocked out of his senses by the crash. while tim watched lewis collapsed and sank back into the wreckage. the motor of tim's ship had aroused some inner sense and lewis had made a supreme effort to make his presence known. tim looked about eagerly for a landing field. the nearest level ground was at least three miles down the mountain and on the other side. there was only one thing to do--speed for help. the circle four ranch was nearest and tim opened the throttle of the mail ship and sped into the east. he wondered how lewis had managed to withstand the cold of the night and day. perhaps he had been sheltered somewhat by the wreckage of the plane. it was just after three o'clock when tim roared over the circle four ranch house and set the mail plane down in the pasture with little ceremony. by the time he had taxied back to the side of the field nearest the ranch buildings cummins and his cowboys were climbing the fence. "i've found the eastbound plane and pilot," shouted tim, "and i need more gas and a couple of men to fly back with me and help get the pilot out. he appears hurt and is caught in the wreckage." hank cummins roared orders with great gusto and the cowboys hurried to carry them out. the fuel tanks were refilled in record time. "you say you needed two men?" asked the owner of the circle four. "it will be a long climb up the mountain," said tim, "and we may have to carry lewis down. he weighs something over two hundred pounds and that won't be any picnic if he can't walk." "i'll say you need two men then," said cummins. "looks to me like there's room for three or four in that mail hole there." "there is room enough," explained tim, "but remember we'll have to count on bringing lewis back with us." "we could leave a couple of the boys on the mountain," said the ranchman. "give them plenty of blankets and we can send after them tomorrow. sounds to me like we'll need lots of help." "all right," agreed tim. "you pick the men and we'll get under way." cummins turned to the cowboys, all of whom were eager to make the trip. "curly, boots and jim," he called, and three husky punchers stepped up to the side of the plane. "pile in boys," urged tim. "you'll have to lay down in the mail compartment and you won't get a chance to see very much scenery if you put the top down." "leave her up," cried curly, "i've always wanted to see how this dog-goned country looked from the air." "you're the doctor," laughed tim. "don't blame me if you get pretty cold on the flight to the mountains." extra blankets for the punchers who would stay in the great smokies were stowed aboard and a haversack of food was handed up to the plane. then willing hands swung the mail ship around, tim opened the throttle, and they bounced over the meadow and into the air. in a little more than half an hour tim circled over the only level ground on the side of the mountain. there was a long, narrow gash that appeared smooth enough for a landing and he set the mail ship down cautiously. the first time he overshot the mark and had to try again. on the second attempt he made a perfect three point and killed his speed quickly. tim shut off the motor and climbed out of his cockpit. the cowboys tumbled down from the mail compartment while cummins tossed the blankets, rope and hand axes after them. the mail plane was rolled to some nearby trees and securely lashed down. tim was taking no chances on a sudden wind destroying their means of escape from the mountains. after making sure that the plane was safe, they started the long climb up the mountain. at times they moved rapidly, especially where the wind had swept the snow off the rocks. but again their progress was heart-breaking, deep drifts forcing them to fight for every foot of headway. up and up they climbed, stopping only occasionally to rest. the cowboys were in good physical condition and tim was glad that he kept himself in shape. the strenuous climb might have killed a man who was not sound in heart and lungs. the last, long climb was in sight when they stopped for a short rest. "boy," sputtered curly, "i'm glad i'm not a mail pilot. believe me, i'll stay on the ground and chase the dogies. think of smashing up in a place like this." "it is pretty wild," admitted tim, "but the boys don't crack up very often." they resumed the climb and managed to reach the crest of the mountain just as the sun disappeared behind a higher range in the west. the tail of the wrecked plane had been the lone sentinel which had guided them in their long climb. it had been impaled by a tooth-like rock that held it firmly. in the pines on the other slope they could see the wreckage of the plane and the marks in the snow plainly showed the course of the stricken ship. the rescue party hurried down the steep slope. tim, in the lead, was the first to reach the wreckage. "tiny! tiny!" he called. there was no answer. "tiny! tiny!" he shouted and the mountains mocked him with their echoes. tim plunged into the wreckage, working toward the place where he had seen the arm and face of the pilot when he had discovered the wreck. with cummins at his side, he fairly tore the wreckage apart until they came to the pilot's cockpit. an arm through a piece of canvas was the first indication that lewis was still in the plane. then they found him! he was wedged into the cockpit. his eyes were closed and he was breathing slowly. his face was white in the gathering dusk. the cowboys, with their hand axes, hacked a path out of the wreckage and they lifted lewis from his trap and carried him out into the open where they spread blankets and laid him down. the owner of the circle four, who professed to have a slight knowledge of physical ailments, went over the injured flyer carefully. "he'll probably be on the shelf a few months," he said when he had completed his examination, "but i think he'll pull through all right." "what's wrong?" asked tim. "looks to me like a considerable number of broken ribs, and a good hard crack on the head that might be a slight fracture, and exposure, of which the exposure is about as bad as any." the cowboys built a roaring fire that cast eerie shadows on the wreckage of the mail and then proceeded to loosen the injured flyer's clothes. lewis' body was thoroughly warmed and the circulation restored to his arms and feet before they bundled him up for the trip down the mountain. it was eight o'clock before they were ready to start the descent. the hours had been spent in cutting a plentiful supply of pine knots which would serve as torches and in fashioning a stretcher on which to carry the injured flyer. according to the plan outlined by the ranchman, four of them would carry the stretcher while the fifth would go ahead, lighting the trail with one of the pine knots. the mail flyer was still unconscious when they placed him on the makeshift stretcher but he was made comfortable with an abundance of blankets. tim took one of the forward handles of the stretcher, cummins took the other and boots and jim undertook to carry the back end. curly, his arms loaded with the pine fagots, went ahead to light the way. the stretcher was heavy and bundlesome and even the short distance to the crest of the mountain was a cruel struggle. they were almost exhausted when they reached the top and put down the stretcher. however, the rest of the journey to the plane would be down hill. they alternated carrying the stretcher and the torches and made fair progress. when their supply of pine pieces ran low they were forced to call a halt while boots and jim hunted up a clump of pines and secured a new supply. the trip down the mountains required three hours and it was eleven o'clock when they finally staggered into the clearing that sheltered the waiting mail plane. when they let the stretcher down, they heard the injured flyer groan. tim bent low over lewis. "where am i? what's happened?" demanded the air mail pilot, his voice little more than a whisper. "you crashed in the storm," replied tim. "we found you in the great smokies and are getting ready to take you back to atkinson. how do you feel?" "kind of smashed up inside," whispered lewis. "hang on a couple of hours longer and we'll have you in a hospital," smiled tim. "how about it, old man?" "sure, sure," was the low reply. the cowboys helped tim wheel the mail plane around and head it down the narrow clearing. then they lifted lewis into the mail compartment and onto the bed they had prepared for him. tim turned to the owner of the circle four. "i'd better head straight for atkinson when i take off," he said. "two of the boys will have to stay here and i'll bring the two who go with me back to the ranch in the morning." "that's all right with us," agreed cummins. "curly and i will make the trip with you and boots and jim can stay here tonight. in the morning they can go back and bring down the mail. the boys from the ranch will meet them with horses sometime in the forenoon." boots and jim took armsful of the pine fagots and hurried down the clearing. they placed flaming torches to light to take off and tim started the motor while cummins and curly crawled into the mail compartment to look after lewis. tim exercised great care in warming up the motor. it must not fail him when he called on it to lift the heavy plane into the night sky. finally satisfied that the motor was functioning perfectly, tim settled himself in the cockpit and opened the throttle. the narrow clearing, dimly outlined by the uncertain light of the pine torches, was none too long. the mail plane started slowly, then gathered speed and flashed into the night. chapter seven tim fought the controls as the mail plane careened down the clearing in the dim light of the blazing pine torches. he heard, faintly, the encouraging shouts of boots and jim as they cheered for a successful takeoff. the odds were terrific. the clearing was barely long enough for a takeoff with the best of conditions. the ground was uneven and the snow materially checked his speed. tim waited until the end of the clearing loomed. then he pulled back on the stick and jerked the plane off the ground. they zoomed into the night sky and tim breathed easier, but only for a second. the motor missed and he felt the loss of flying speed. he instantly switched to the other magneto and the motor resumed its rhythmic firing. it was just in time for the plane had dropped dangerously low. tim circled over the clearing, got his directions, and then headed in a direct airline for atkinson. the mail plane hurtled through the night at one hundred thirty miles an hour, its maximum speed, and tim pushed it every mile of the way. it was hard work piloting the mail for every muscle and bone in his body cried with fatigue. the long hours in the air, and the struggle up and down the mountain had sapped his energy. in spite of the cold, he found it hard to keep awake. the motor droned steadily and its song lulled tim into a dangerous state of lassitude. his eyes grew heavy and once or twice he caught himself dozing. the flying reporter realized fully the danger of going to sleep at the controls and used every power at his command to ward off the sleepiness. he beat his arms against his body, stamped his feet on the floor of the cockpit and even stood up so that the icy blast from the propeller beat against his cheeks. the remedies would be effective for four or five minutes. then he would feel himself slipping again. each time it was harder to arouse himself to the task of moving his arms and legs, of standing up and facing the chilling slipstream. they were not more than twenty-five miles from atkinson when tim's eyes finally closed and his head fell forward. his hands, which had gripped the stick in desperate determination, relaxed and the mail ship cruised on with its pilot asleep in the cockpit. for three or four minutes all went well. the mail plane, a well rigged craft, maintained an even keel and hank cummins and curly, crouched in the mail compartment with the injured lewis, had no intimation that tim was not at his post of duty. then a vagrant night wind swept out of the north and caught the plane at a quartering angle. the stick waggled impatiently as though signalling tim that his attention was needed. finding no master hand to control it, the stick gave up the job and surrendered to the wind. the mail veered off to the south, went into a tight bank, and ended up in a screaming nose dive. the wires shrieked as the air speed increased and the motor added its crescendo to the din. the plane had dropped one thousand feet and was less than nine hundred feet above the ground when the terrific noise penetrated tim's sub-conscious mind. when he opened his eyes he knew they were in a power dive, heading for the earth at nearly two hundred miles an hour. without glancing at the altimeter tim seized the stick and attempted to bring the plane out of its dive. the motor pulsated with new power and gradually, carefully he brought the nose up. when he felt that the wings would not snap off under the tremendous strain, he levelled off. tim looked below. not a hundred feet away he could see the outline of objects on the ground. another second or two of sleep and they would all have been wiped out in a crash. he wiped the cold perspiration from his brow, relaxed just a bit, and set a new course for atkinson. ten minutes later he could see the lights of the city reflected in the sky and in another five minutes he was circling down to a landing on the municipal field. the great sperry floodlight, used when the air mail planes were landing or taking off, bathed the field in its blue-white brilliance. it was as light as day and tim set the heavy ship down as lightly as a feather. he taxied up to the administration building and an ambulance, waiting near the gate, backed down toward his plane. "they telephoned from the circle four that you had found lewis and his ship," shouted carl hunter as he hurried up to the plane. "found him on top of a mountain," replied tim. "he's some smashed up inside but i think he'll pull through. the mail is still in the plane but two of the boys from the circle four are watching it and they'll start down with it tomorrow." the field manager took charge of the situation and they lifted the injured flyer down from the mail cockpit. lewis was unconscious again but was breathing deeply and freely. the young surgeon with the ambulance gave him a cursory examination. "he'll pull through all right," was his verdict as he swung into the ambulance and it started its dash for the hospital in the city. tim was so tired and chilled that he had to be helped from the cockpit. his legs, aching from the cold and the arduous exertion of the day, simply folded up under him. hank cummins grinned at him. "i don't feel much better myself," he admitted. "and gosh, what an appetite climbing a mountain gives a fellow. let's eat." supported by the ranchman on one side and the field manager on the other, tim made his way to the administration building. "ralph must have come in early since he didn't wait for me," said tim as they entered the manager's office. hunter did not answer immediately and tim turned toward him with anxious eyes. "what's the matter, carl?" he demanded. "isn't ralph in; haven't you heard from him?" "we haven't had any news," admitted the field manager, "but you know ralph well enough to realize that he can take care of himself in almost any kind of an emergency." tim knew that ralph was capable and resourceful but he had also had a vivid demonstration of the dangers of flying in the great smokies. "i've got to start out and hunt for him," he cried. "have the boys get the plane ready to go." "you'll do nothing of the kind," snorted hunter. "you're in no shape to fly. look at your eyes. you'd be sound asleep in ten minutes and then we'd have to start looking for you. no sir! you stay right here, put some warm food inside and then roll in. the mail planes are going through tonight on schedule and they've all been instructed to look for some sign of a campfire in the mountains. ralph may have found the wrecked westbound, landed, and be unable to get back into the air again." there was sound advice in the field manager's words and tim realized that it would be folly for him to attempt to fly again that night. a waiter from the restaurant at the other end of the administration building brought in a tray of steaming hot food and tim, hank cummins, curly, and hunter sat down for a midnight lunch. "there's just one thing i'd like to know," said the ranchman. "what in thunder were you trying to do when you started for the ground all of a sudden. i was scared half to death and curly was shouting his prayers." "to tell the truth i went to sleep," confessed tim. "when i woke up we were in a power dive and not very far from the ground. i was scared stiff but lady luck was with us and the wings stayed on when i pulled the plane out of the dive. otherwise, we might not be having hot soup right now. and boy, does this soup hit the spot!" they had nearly finished their lunch when the door opened and the managing editor of the _news_ hurried in. "they phoned me you were coming in a few minutes ago," he told tim. "how are you? where's ralph? is lewis all right?" the flying reporter answered the managing editor's questions as rapidly as possible and then related the events of the day. he introduced the managing editor to hank cummins and curly and told of the important part the circle four men had taken in the rescue of the injured pilot. "that's great work, tim, great," exclaimed the managing editor. "if ralph isn't reported by morning you'll want to start out again. how about writing the story for the _news_ before you turn in?" the lunch and opportunity to relax had restored part of tim's strength and he was eager to write the story of the day's happenings. it was all fresh and vivid in his mind. if he went to sleep and tried to write the story in the morning part of the dashing action, the brilliant color of the words, would be lost. he agreed to the managing editor's suggestion and sat down at the typewriter in the field manager's office. with a handful of paper on the desk beside him, he started his story. the other men in the room continued their conversation but they might as well have been in another world as far as tim was concerned. he was reliving the events of the day, transferring the story of what had happened in the clouds into words and sentences that would thrill the readers of the _news_ the next day. page after page of copy fell from the machine as tim's fingers hammered at the keys. the managing editor unobtrusively picked them up and read them with increasing eagerness. in glowing words tim painted the story of the entire events of the day from the sudden onslaught of the blizzard to the final landing of his plane on the home field. it was a story high in human interest--a story every subscriber of the _news_ would read and remember. when tim had completed the last sentence, he turned to the managing editor. "i'm all in," he admitted, "and if carl will lend me a cot in the pilot's room i'm going to roll in." "you deserve a week of sleep," said the managing editor, as he finished reading the story. "this is one of the best yarns you've ever written," he added enthusiastically. "now when ralph gets in and writes his story--" carson didn't finish. he saw the look of anxiety that his words brought to tim's tired, white face and he added quickly. "you head for bed and we'll let you know just as soon as we hear from ralph." tim nodded dully, almost hopelessly, and stumbled into the pilot's room where he threw himself on a cot. he was asleep before he had time to draw up the blankets. half an hour later tim was roused from his deep slumber by someone shaking his shoulders. faintly he heard words. "the pilot on the westbound tonight saw a campfire in the timber along one of the lower mountains. it must be ralph. we'll start the first thing in the morning." chapter eight when tim and ralph parted in the foothills of the great smokies, ralph took up his search for george mitchell, pilot of the missing westbound mail. throughout the morning ralph conducted his fruitless quest and when noon came he was forced to turn back from the mountains and seek a ranch or village where he could refuel his plane. ralph's ship was slightly smaller than tim's and consequently had a longer cruising radius with the same fuel load. ten miles north of the regular air mail route lay the village of rubio and ralph set the mail plane down in a pasture east of the town. the noise of the plane had drawn the attention of the villagers and they swarmed to the field. ralph quickly explained his needs and the owner of the village garage brought out a truck loaded with gasoline. refueling of the mail ship was soon accomplished and ralph then hastened into the village where he went to the only restaurant and managed to secure a good, warm meal. he ordered a large lunch prepared and packed and by the time he had finished his dinner the lunch was ready. he paid for the food and walked back to the plane. several of the village boys volunteered to hold the wings while ralph warmed the motor. he gave the new fuel a thorough test and then signalled for the boys to let go. the propeller sliced through the air and its blast created a small blizzard which hid the crowd of villagers in a smother of snow. the mail ship gathered momentum, bumped over the uneven ground and finally bounced into the air. ralph headed back for the air mail route to resume his search. back and forth he cruised, confining his search to the foothills of the mountains for there was slight chance that mitchell would have reached the great smokies. the afternoon wore on and ralph's hopes of finding the missing flyer that day lessened. it was slow and tedious work cruising over the rolling hills whose slopes were covered by dense growths of trees, principally pines. if mitchell had come down in one of the forests it might be weeks before he would be found. ralph was speculating on how long his fuel would last when he saw an irregular gash in the tops of the trees ahead. he swung the plane lower. something had taken off the tops of half a dozen tall, scraggly pines. it looked as though some giant of the sky had paused a moment, swung a mighty sickle, and then gone on. a quarter of a mile further ralph saw a repetition of the broken tree tops. then he caught sight of the missing mail plane. the tail of the ship was sticking straight up in the air; the nose was buried in a deep drift at the base of a mighty pine. the propeller was splintered and the undercarriage gone but otherwise the plane did not appear to have been badly damaged. ralph gunned his motor hard and watched for some sign of the pilot near the wrecked plane. for ten minutes he circled the spot before looking for a landing place for his own ship. in one of the valleys between the foothills he found a small meadow that looked as though it would serve as an emergency landing field. he took careful note of the position of the wrecked plane and then drifted down to attempt the landing. the meadow was bordered by pines that stuck their spires into the sky and ralph thought for a time that it would be impossible to avoid their scraggly tops and get into the meadow. he finally found a break in the pines and sideslipped through. then he straightened out and fishtailed down into the meadow. the pines had protected the meadow from the driving north wind of the night before and the snow had not drifted. ralph taxied the mail plane up under the shelter of the trees, lashed it securely, and then prepared for his trip to the wrecked plane. the young reporter took his package of food he had had prepared at rubio, ropes and a hand axe and started the climb up the foothills. the snow had drifted but little and he made good progress. in little more than half an hour he reached the scene of the wreck of the air mail. ralph shouted lustily, but there was no response. the tail of the big ship was pointing straight into the sky. ralph could see that mitchell was not in the pilot's cockpit. then he gasped with astonishment. the door of the mail compartment was open. ralph ran across the small clearing and hastily climbed the wings and on up to the mail compartment. one glance was sufficient. the sack of registered mail was missing! there was no sign of a struggle at the plane and there was no response to his frantic shouts. ralph sat down in the mail cockpit to think things over. his first thought had been that the mail had been robbed. he discarded that belief and decided that mitchell, possibly unharmed in the crackup had taken the precious sack of registered mail and was attempting to find his way out of the forest and make for the nearest town. ralph dropped down from the fuselage and started a search in the snow. it was light and powdery and had drifted just enough to make the detection of footprints difficult. the reporter made a careful search but it was not until he was on the far side of the plane that his efforts were rewarded. footprints, almost concealed by the snow which had fallen later, were dimly visible. ralph, eager and alert, took up the trail and soon had lost sight of the wreck of the westbound air mail. the footprints zig-zagged this way and that for it had been night when mitchell had deserted the plane and started to make his way out of the forest. ralph plowed steadily through the snow. the forest was silent except for the occasional call of a snowbird and ralph felt a mighty loneliness around him. the shadows were lengthening rapidly and ralph pushed forward with renewed determination. at intervals the reporter stopped and listened intently for some sound. it was possible that mitchell might call for help. sundown found the reporter far from the wreck of the air mail, weaving his way along the dim trail. ralph, although little versed in woodcraft, could read certain signs in the dim footprints. he could see that mitchell had been tiring rapidly. the steps were more uneven and once or twice the air mail flyer had stopped beside some tree to rest. the light in the forest was fading rapidly and ralph advanced as fast as possible. once he lost the dim trail and had to retrace his steps. he begrudged the lost time and when he found mitchell's trail started at a dog-trot, but with the coming of the night he was forced to slow down. the reporter stopped in a small clearing and called lustily through cupped hands. again and again he shouted and at last he thought he heard a faint reply. perhaps it was only an echo. he called again and a voice, far away, answered. confident that he was near the missing pilot, ralph hurried forward, bending almost double in order to follow the dim trail. he stopped every few hundred feet and shouted. each time the reply came clearer and stronger. ralph came out on the bank of a small stream. below, on the rocks beside the creek bed, he saw the crouched form of the air mail flyer. "george! george!" cried ralph. "down here," came the reply. "take it easy or you'll slip and twist your ankle just like i did." in less than a minute ralph was beside the man he had been hunting and mitchell told him of the events preceding the crash and how he had attempted to escape from the forest and reach some habitation. "the storm struck so quickly i didn't have a chance to escape," said the air mail flyer as ralph worked over the twisted ankle. "the snow and ice collected on the wings and forced me down. maybe you saw where i took the tops off the trees before i finally cracked." "sure did," said ralph. "matter of fact, the only way i found your ship was through seeing those broken tree tops. they gave me the clue that a plane had been in trouble. a little further along i saw the tail of your ship sticking up in the air." "i took a real flop," went on the mail flyer. "just nosed right straight down and smacked the old earth. i ducked just in time and outside a few bruises wasn't hurt. managed to get the sack of registered stuff out and figured i could get out of the woods and reach some ranchhouse or the railroad. then i fell over this bank, twisted my right ankle, and i've been here ever since." ralph chopped some dry wood from a dead tree nearby and soon had a fire blazing merrily among the rocks. he made the mail flyer as comfortable as possible, warmed the lunch he had brought with him and they both enjoyed the meal, the first mitchell had eaten in twenty-four hours. after the lunch had been devoured, ralph turned his attention to the injured ankle. it was a bad wrench but he managed to fix a makeshift bandage that held it firm. after that was done he picked up a blazing piece of firewood and struck out into the night. in a few minutes he was back with a forked branch which he informed mitchell could be used as a crutch. ralph picked up the sack of registered mail and with his assistance mitchell managed to negotiate the steep slope of the creek valley. when they were in the woods ralph went back and extinguished the fire. the reporter returned and helped support the mail flyer as they started the slow and painful journey to the plane which was to be their means of escape. mitchell did the best he could but his ankle throbbed incessantly and they were forced to rest every few hundred feet. after an hour and a half of the gruelling work, mitchell was exhausted and ralph decided that it would be best for them to wait until morning before continuing their journey. he selected a clearing which had only one large tree in the center. brushing away the snow he cut enough pine branches for a makeshift bed and then constructed a barrier of branches to shield them from the wind. a fire was started and mitchell, weak and chilled from his exertions, laid down beside it. ralph massaged the swollen ankle until the pain had eased and the mail flyer fell asleep. the reporter busied himself securing enough firewood to last until morning and after that task was completed laid down beside mitchell in the fragrant pine bows. he dropped into a deep sleep of exhaustion and had slept for some time when he awoke with a terrifying fear gripping his heart. blazing eyes were staring at him from the edge of the forest; eyes that burned their way into his mind. a whole ring of them were closing in, creeping ever nearer the fire. for a moment the terror of the situation held ralph motionless. then he leaped into action. the fire had died low but there was still a few burning embers. he seized the ends of several of these and hurled them toward the hungry eyes. the flaming brands made fiery arcs through the night. some of them dropped sizzling into the snow; others struck dark bodies. hoarse cries shattered the midnight stillness as the wolves fled before ralph's sudden attack. in a second it was over and when mitchell wanted to know what had happened, ralph felt as though he had been dreaming. "wolves were closing in on us when i woke up," he explained. "for a minute i was too scared to do anything. then i remembered that they were afraid of fire and i hurled half a dozen embers from our campfire at them." "i never thought of wolves," said the mail flyer. "good thing you woke up or we might have become 'a great mystery' or some such thing. it wouldn't take those timber wolves long to finish a fellow." ralph agreed that the wolves were dangerous and piled new fuel on the fire. mitchell still had his heavy service automatic and ralph appropriated the weapon. the bright light from the fire kept ralph awake for a time but after an hour and a half of struggling against fatigue his eyes closed. stealthy movements in the forest failed to arouse him and slinking figures emerged from the timber. the wolves were advancing again. a dozen of the hungry, grey beasts of prey crept nearer and nearer the fire. in an ever narrowing circle they closed in upon their victims, treading lightly lest they make some noise. mitchell, exhausted from his long battle through the snow and the pain of his injured ankle, was breathing deeply. the reporter had fallen asleep sitting up and his head was bent forward as though he was in thought. in his right hand was the heavy . caliber automatic. closer and closer came the wolves. forty feet. the fire crackled as it bit into a pine knot and the beasts stopped their advance. but ralph failed to wake up and the deadly circle drew nearer to the little camp in the center of the clearing. thirty feet. mitchell stirred restlessly and then relapsed into the deep sleep that claimed him. another moment and the wolves would spring, their glistening, bared teeth ripping at their victims. they crept closer, crouched for the fatal spring. the fire was lower, its light making only a dim glow, and through this could be seen the bright eyes of the wolves. from the heavens came the deep thunder of the motor of the westbound mail. its echoes filled the night and ralph awakened instantly. the wolves, startled by the sudden burst of sound, were motionless. in the brief second before they leaped, ralph threw his body across mitchell to shield the injured flyer from the savage onslaught. the automatic in his hand blazed, shattering the darkness with shafts of flame. bullets thudded into the gray shapes which swirled around the dim campfire. a huge timber wolf landed on top of ralph. he felt its hot breath, heard the throaty growl of triumph, felt the muzzle seek his throat. with desperate effort and strength born of terror, ralph pressed the muzzle of the automatic against the shaggy grey fur. the shock of the heavy bullet distracted the wolf and it ceased its efforts to kill ralph and slunk into the shadows. the reporter crouched over mitchell, waiting for more onslaughts. the wolf cries continued and ralph put more fuel on the fire. in the light from the leaping flames he saw the explanation. his first bullets had brought down two of the huge beasts and their companions, scenting the fresh blood, had turned from their attack and were tearing the stricken wolves to pieces. mitchell handed a fresh clip of cartridges to ralph and the reporter sent another hail of lead in the direction of the wolves. fresh cries of pain filled the night but it was not until ralph had brought down two more of the great beasts that the others slunk away and disappeared in the timber. "how did they happen to get so close?" mitchell asked. "i must have fallen asleep," admitted ralph. "first thing i heard was the roar of the westbound plane going over and then i saw a whole circle of hungry eyes looking at us. they were crouched, ready to spring, when the sound of the plane distracted them. it gave me just time enough to get into action with the gun." "good thing you did or all that would have been left of us by morning would be soup bones," grinned mitchell. "i've had all the thrills i want for one night. i'm not going to risk going to sleep again." the reporter and the mail flyer sat up and talked for the remainder of the night. at the first lightening of the sky, they resumed their journey toward the plane. in the clearing they left the bodies of four wolves and further along the trail they found the body of a fifth, the one which had leaped upon ralph. they finally reached the wreck of the mail plane and continued until they came to the clearing where ralph had left his ship. "not any too much room to get out of this pocket," commented mitchell as he surveyed the tall pines which enclosed the valley. "i had to fish tail in and dodge a few trees doing it," replied ralph. "but if i got in i guess i'll be able to get out all right." mitchell rested in the snow while ralph unlashed the plane and turned it around. then the reporter boosted the flyer into the mail cockpit and prepared for the take-off. he primed the motor and felt that luck was with him when it started easily. mitchell leaned out of the mail cockpit and shouted back at ralph. "i know this ship," he cried. "let her get a good run. then pull back hard and she'll climb almost straight up. don't hold her in a climb for more than two hundred feet or she may slip back on back and go into a tail spin." ralph nodded his thanks and made a final check to see that the plane was ready for the attempt to get out of the valley. tall pines loomed on every side. straight ahead there was a slight break in the tree tops he hoped to be able to slide through. it would require skilful piloting but they had passed through so many ordeals in the last few hours that ralph felt himself capable of meeting the emergency. the reporter leaned ahead and tapped mitchell on the shoulder. "all set?" he asked. mitchell nodded. "then hang on," cried ralph and he opened the throttle and sent the plane skimming through the snow. the barrier of pines rose ahead of the propeller. ralph waited until the last second and then jerked the stick back. the wheels lifted off the ground and the ship flashed into the air. it was going to be close but it looked like they would clear the trees and wing their way eastward in safety. ralph whipped the plane through the narrow opening in the tree tops. they were almost clear when one wing brushed the snow-burdened tips of the pine. it was just enough to throw the plane out of balance. they lost speed and the nose started down. ralph had visions of being impaled on the tops of the trees and he worked frantically to right the plane. lower and lower they slipped. then the motor overcame the pull of gravity and they resumed their climb. two tall trees barred their way and ralph banked sharply. there was a sudden jar as though some giant had reached up to pluck the plane from the sky. then it was over and they were soaring towards the clouds. mitchell, who had been watching their progress, relaxed and slumped down into the mail cockpit. ralph, perplexed by the last jarring sensation as they cleared the final barrier, wondered what had happened to the ship. the wing tips had not been damaged and the tail assembly was all right. determined to find out what had taken place, ralph leaned far out of the cockpit in order to see the landing gear. one glance was sufficient. the left wheel had been smashed. ralph slid back into his seat and gave his attention to the handling of the plane. he had more than an hour in which to decide how he would land at atkinson. the sky cleared and the sun peeped over the horizon. the last snow of winter would soon be little more than a memory but it would be a bitter one for the air mail with two planes wrecked. atkinson was just waking up when ralph roared over and circled the airport. he swooped low to attract attention and first on the field was tim, who had been awakened by the sound of the plane. "one wheel of ralph's ship is smashed!" cried hunter. "and i'll bet he hasn't got a whole lot of gas left," said tim. "what will we do?" asked carson, who had returned to the field. "take a wheel up to him," replied tim. turning to the field manager, he asked, "have you got a spare wheel that will fit that ship?" "two of them," said hunter. "i'll have them in in less than a minute." he hastened to the parts room and returned with a spare wheel. together they ran to hangar no. which was the home of the _good news_. the plane, repainted and with its motor and rigging carefully checked, was ready to go again. "you handle the controls," tim told hunter, "and i'll do the plane changing stunt." hunter warmed up the _good news_ and tim secured the extra equipment he needed. he tossed a coil of rope into the forward cockpit and put an assortment of wrenches of various sizes into the pockets of his tight-fitting leather jacket. then he vaulted into the cockpit and signalled for hunter to open the throttle. the _good news_ flipped through the open door of the hangar, made a short run, and then, its powerful motor thrumming steadily, nosed skyward in a steep climb. hunter took the _good news_ alongside the slower mail plane and tim signalled to ralph what he intended to attempt. mitchell, who was now aware of the danger of their situation, was watching anxiously from the mail cockpit of ralph's plane. himself an expert flier, he was fuming impatiently at his helplessness. hunter and ralph coordinated the speed of their planes and hunter gradually edged over the other plane. tim made one end of the rope fast to the cockpit and to the other he tied the spare wheel. he lowered the wheel over the side of the fuselage and slowly let it down until it was just above mitchell. the mail flyer reached up and took the wheel, untying the rope to which it had been fastened. then tim pulled the rope back, knotted it in half a dozen places, and tossed it overboard again. "take it easy," he warned hunter as he unfolded his long legs and eased them over the side of the cockpit. the air was cold and clinging to a swaying rope one thousand feet above the ground while traveling ninety miles an hour was no picnic. little by little tim slid down the swaying rope. ralph watched the controls of his plane like a hawk, creeping nearer and nearer to tim. the gap between tim and the upper wing of the mail plane lessened--almost vanished. then the flying reporter let go and sprawled on the wing, his hands clutching the forward wing. the drop had knocked the breath from his body and he gasped painfully. after a short rest he felt his strength returning and started edging toward the center of the ship. ralph held the plane steady and tim made good progress. in less than five minutes he was in the mail cockpit with mitchell. in a few words the injured pilot told tim what had happened, of his own crash and attempt to get out of the timber with the registered mail, how ralph had found him and later fought off the wolves and how they had smashed a wheel in getting clear of the trees surrounding the valley. tim told mitchell that he had found lewis, the other missing pilot, and brought him safely to atkinson. that done, tim took the wheel and slide out of the cockpit and down on to the landing gear. the axle was only slightly bent and was still strong enough to stand the strain of landing in the snow. tim worked hard to get the lock nut off the smashed wheel for it had jammed. he finally worked it loose and then dropped the damaged wheel on to the flying field far below. the new wheel slid into place and he managed to get the lock nut on. the wheel wobbled a little but it would permit ralph to land in safety. tim clambered back into the mail cockpit and motioned for ralph to land. the pilot brought the mail ship down to an easy landing and taxied up to the row of hangars where they were met by the impatient managing editor. a photographer was waiting and he snapped half a dozen pictures as ralph and tim helped mitchell from the plane. the flyer was sent in to town for treatment at a hospital and tim and ralph accompanied the managing editor to the _news_ office. "don't you want something to eat?" asked carson as they reached the office. "i'll wait," grinned ralph. "if i eat now i'll go to sleep and you'll never wake me up. i'll write the story first and eat afterward." chapter nine the afternoon editions of the _news_ that day featured the stories tim and ralph had written of their adventures in rescuing the air mail pilots. pictures of ralph's plane landing and of ralph and tim helping george mitchell were spread all over the second page. but long before the presses started their daily run tim was in the air again, refreshed by at least part of a night's sleep. ralph, exhausted by his adventures and lack of sleep, went to bed as soon as he finished writing his story. after returning to the airport, tim prepared to take his cowboy friends back to the circle four ranch. hank cummins, the owner of the circle four, was waiting for tim at the field. "just had a telephone call from the ranch," he said, "and by the time we get there they'll have the mail down where we can pick it up." "that will be fine," exclaimed tim. "i'll have it back here by late afternoon." tim warmed up the _good news_ and motioned for the ranchman and curly to climb into the forward cockpit. "better strap yourselves in," he warned them. "this ship steps out and we're going places. if we happen to hit some rough air you'll think you're riding a bronco." curly grinned as though he thought tim was joking but the flying reporter insisted that the cowboy strap himself in the plane. the _good news_ was pulsating with power and tim decided to give his new friends a thrill or two. he opened the throttle and the plane dusted down the field like a scared jackrabbit. tim pulled back hard on the stick and the powerful motor took them almost straight into the sky. up and up they spiraled, clawing for altitude and getting it by leaps and bounds. five hundred, seven-fifty, one thousand, fifteen hundred and then two thousand. they were flashing away from the earth at a dizzying pace. when the plane was about the two thousand foot level, tim levelled off and headed in the direction of the circle four. the air speed indicator started to climb. there was a favoring wind to boost them along and the needle advanced steadily. they breezed along at a hundred and eighty miles an hour and when tim pushed the speed up to one hundred and ninety miles an hour curly turned around. his face was white and scared looking. he motioned for tim to slow down and the flying reporter shut off the motor. "i don't want to get home in a minute," yelled the cowboy. "take your time, take your time. all i've got to do when we get home is chase cows." tim grinned and shook his head. "you haven't seen anything yet," he cried. "if you think a horse can buck, watch this." the flying reporter switched on the motor again and fed fuel into the white-hot cylinders. their speed increased until they were flashing through the sky at two hundred and five miles an hour. curly and hank cummins were clinging to the combing of the front cockpit, their knuckles white from the desperation of their grip. tim eased up on the throttle and slowed down to the sedate pace of one hundred and fifty miles an hour. curly and hank settled down in their seats, only to lose their hats when tim swung the _good news_ into a loop. from that he dropped into a falling leaf and ended up by flying upside down. "can a bronco do stunts like that?" asked tim when the _good news_ was again on an even line of flight. "one or two," curly managed to say, "but they can't buck upside down for that long a time. take me home. i'll be glad to get out of this sky horse." the _good news_ fairly snapped the miles out of its exhaust and it was only a short time after they had left the field at atkinson when tim brought the plane to rest in the meadow below the ranch buildings. boots and jim were waiting for him with the sacks of mail they had taken from the wreckage of lewis' plane in the great smokies. tim checked the sacks. "every one of them here and nothing damaged," he said. "by night they'll be on their way east again by air mail." hank cummins urged him to go to the ranch house for a warm lunch, but tim refused the invitation. "then pay us a visit this summer when you have your vacation," insisted the owner of the circle four. "come out here with the boys. they'll teach you how to ride and rope and maybe do a little fancy shooting. there's good fishing in the streams back in the hills and maybe, if the rustling that started last summer keeps on, you might run into a little excitement." "in that case," smiled tim, "i wouldn't be surprised if you had a couple of reporters spending their vacations with you this summer." "nothing would please me more," said the genial ranchman, "and be sure and drop in whenever you fly this way." "thanks for all you've done," said tim, "and if we can ever do you a favor, don't hesitate to call on us." with the air mail pouches in the forward cockpit tim headed the _good news_ for home. the headwind slowed him somewhat but even with that handicap he was back in atkinson by mid-afternoon. a special section of the air mail eastbound had just come in and the salvage mail was placed aboard it to continue the journey to eastern cities. when the air mail had taken off, hunter turned to tim. "i'm writing a complete report and forwarding it to headquarters," said the field manager. "it was certainly great of you and ralph to help out as you did. lewis might have died and mitchell certainly would have had a rough time of it before we could have reached them if you fellows hadn't volunteered." "we're always ready in an emergency," said tim. "besides, we got some dandy stories for the paper." "the company will reward you in some way," said hunter, "and they won't be stingy about it when they read my report." "don't lay it on too thick," urged tim. "not very much," grinned hunter as he went into his office. tim was about to leave the field when hunter called that he was wanted on the phone. when tim answered he recognized the voice of captain ned raymond of the state police. "i'd like to see you at the hotel jefferson right away. same room as before," said the captain. "i'm just starting for town," replied tim. "i'll be there in fifteen or twenty minutes." captain raymond was pacing up and down the narrow confines of room when tim entered. "glad to see you again, murphy," said the state police official. "sit down," and he waved toward the bed. captain raymond continued his pacing, chewing nervously at the end of a heavy pencil. "trouble brewing," he said in the sharp, short way of his. "got a tip from chicago today. we'll have to keep a sharp lookout." "just what for?" asked tim. "that's it, that's it," exploded the fiery policeman. "if i knew where to look, but i don't." "then we'll have to sit back and wait for something to happen." said tim. "but keep our eyes open," added captain raymond. "my tip is that some of the members of the sky hawk's gang have worked out a new scheme of some kind and are planning a lot of robberies. going to make a wholesale business out of it. our part of the country has been picked first because it will be easy for them to make a getaway. the mountains west of here, the river east. good hiding for anyone who is evading the law." tim waited while captain raymond continued his pacing of the room. "you have that plane of yours ready to go at a minute's notice," said the trooper. "it's always ready," replied tim, "for we never know just when a big story will break and we'll need the plane." "good, good. and have no fear but what you'll get all the excitement you want in a short time." "i've had about all i want for a while," smiled tim and he told of what he and ralph had gone through in the rescue of the air mail flyers. "that's the stuff," explained captain raymond. "you boys are just the types we need. i know i can count on you to come through in an emergency. guess that's all for this time. i just wanted to warn you to expect trouble soon. if you want to get in touch with me at any time telephone the troop barracks at harris. if i'm not there, they'll know where to locate me within a few minutes." when tim left the hotel it was with the knowledge that he would soon be in conflict with members of the sky hawk's old band. he knew they would be formidable foes but there was no fear in his heart. the flying reporter returned to the _news_ office and started writing his aviation column for the following day. he was tired and made slow progress, but he had a little more than a column of material ready when he closed his desk at six o'clock. dan watkins, the head of the copy desk and one of tim's closest friends, was waiting for him. "where are you going to eat tonight?" asked the copy chief. "anyplace where it is quiet," replied tim. "my head feels a little light." "then some clam chowder could just about hit the spot with you," suggested watkins and they left the _news_ building and walked to a small, cozy restaurant on a nearby sidestreet. the quiet and the soft lights eased tim's taut nerves and he felt his whole body relaxing. "you've had some mighty busy days," commented watkins when they were comfortably seated. "busy but lots of fun," replied tim. "how about the chances you've been taking?" "they weren't chances," said the flying reporter. "i always had a sturdy plane and i tried to use good judgment. once or twice, i'll admit that i took chances but in those cases the object far surpassed the risk." "i heard the business manager and the managing editor talking about you today," said watkins. "isn't my work up to standard?" asked tim. "it wasn't about your work it was about you." "what do you mean?" "both of them are worried about your health. they are afraid you're working too hard and when the managing editor and the business manager start to worry about your health you can bet your bottom dollar you're valuable to the paper. with me, i could have a nervous breakdown and they'd never bat an eye. probably be glad to get rid of me." "don't talk like that, dan," pleaded tim. "you know that's not so. why you're the balance wheel of the editorial office. carson wouldn't know what to do if anything happened to you. he depends on you to keep things running smoothly, see that the boys all cover their assignments and that the copy goes steadily to the machines." "we won't argue over that," smiled the copy chief, "but you should have heard those two going at it this afternoon. the business manager fairly ripped into carson." "what for?" "for letting you be sworn into the state police." "you know that!" "of course." "but how?" "it's my business to know things like that. anyway, the business manager said the state police could take care of themselves and that you were too valuable for the paper to lose. he said that hundreds of people took the _news_ just to read about the adventures you and ralph go through." "what did carson say?" asked tim. "oh he explained what the state troopers were up against and they had it hot and heavy for a while. all of which gets back to what i wanted to say to you. be careful, tim, on this state police job. the troopers are paid to take chances with criminals; you're not. help them where you can but don't risk your own life unnecessarily." "i don't intend to take unnecessary risks," said tim, "but you know how i feel about crime. anything i can do to stop it or, after it is committed, to bring the criminals to justice, i'll do." "i realize that, tim, and i admire you for it," said watkins. "all i ask is that you be careful. the _news_ has done a great deal for you and it will do a great deal more if you give it a chance." routine work filled the next ten days and there was no further news from captain raymond of the state police. the warm winds of spring swept in from the south and the last traces of the late winter blizzard disappeared. the grass sprang up and the trees started to leaf. during the lunch hour the reporters gathered on the south side of the _news_ building to exchange yarns and gossip. gray skies of winter had been replaced by the cheerful ones of spring and life on the paper moved smoothly. the menace of the sky hawk's gang had almost been forgotten when tim was given an assignment that was to lead to many a strange and thrilling adventure. chapter ten when tim returned to the editorial room after lunch that day the managing editor summoned him to his office. "i've got an assignment that is somewhat different from your usual run of things," explained carson, "but i'm sure you'll enjoy it. the southwestern railroad is speeding up the time of its midnight mail. the new schedule calls for an average speed of fifty-one miles an hour. the superintendent of this division has invited me to send a reporter on the first trip tonight. how would you like to ride the cab of the mail down to vinton?" "i'd like it, mr. carson," replied tim. "i've always wanted to ride in the cab of a fast train." "you'll have your chance tonight," smiled the managing editor, "for if i know anything about train schedules the mail is going to throw the miles up her stack when she hits her stride." carson telephoned the railroad offices that tim would ride the cab that night. "you'd better go down to the station about eleven o'clock," said the managing editor. "you'll get your pass at the ticket office. then go down to the roundhouse and get aboard the engine there. the engineer and conductor will be expecting you. this is quite an event for the railroad people and i want to give them a good yarn. i'll send ralph to vinton this afternoon in the _good news_ and he'll wait there and bring you home in the morning. one of the staff photographers will be at the station to take flash-lights when the mail pulls out." "i'll finish my aviation column for tomorrow," said tim, "and then get some old clothes for i don't imagine it will be any too clean on the engine." when ralph returned from an assignment he was told to take the _good news_ and fly to vinton, there to await the arrival of tim on the midnight mail. tim accompanied his flying companion to the airport and helped him wheel the _good news_ out of the hangar. "traveling on a train will seem kind of slow compared to the _good news_," suggested ralph. "i don't know about that," replied tim. "the mail's new schedule is a hair raiser and they'll have to pound the steel pretty hard to make their time. it won't be any picnic, i can tell you that." ralph, satisfied that the motor was thoroughly warm and ready for its task, waved at tim. "see you in the morning," he called. then he whipped the _good news_ across the field and streaked into the southwest. tim watched the plane until it disappeared before he turned to the car which had brought them from town. on his way back to the city he drove leisurely, thoroughly enjoying the sweetness of the spring afternoon. the road swung onto a viaduct that spanned the myriad rails of the southwestern. a transcontinental limited was pulling into the long station, feathery puffs of steam drifting away from the safety valve. the train came to a stop, porters swung their stools down on the platform and the passengers descended. the engineer dropped down from the cab and started oiling around the iron speedster of the rails. there was something thrilling, fascinating about it and tim looked forward with high interest to his trip that night. he drove on up town, returning the car to the garage. after dinner alone he walked to his room, found a suit of coveralls and an old cap and bandanna handkerchief. these he rolled up and wrapped in paper. that done he sat down for an hour of reading the latest aviation journals and at eight o'clock he set his alarm clock for ten-thirty and laid down for a nap. the next thing tim knew the alarm was ringing steadily and he roused himself from the deep sleep into which he had fallen. he washed his face and hands in cold water and felt greatly refreshed, ready for whatever the night might have in store in the way of adventure. on the way to the station tim stopped at an all night restaurant and enjoyed a platter of delicious country sausage. then he continued his walk toward the railroad yards. the reporter descended the steps from the viaduct and entered the brightly lighted station. it was two minutes to eleven when he walked up to the ticket window and introduced himself. the agent on duty handed him his credentials and told him the shortest way to the roundhouse. tim left the station and its glow of light. outside the night air was cool and he pulled his leather jacket closer around him. great arc lights gleamed at intervals in the yard and a chugging switch engine disturbed the quiet. three blocks from the station was the roundhouse with its countless chimneys and numberless doors. tim picked his way carefully over the switches, skirted the yawning pit that marked the turn-table and entered the master mechanic's office at the roundhouse. the master mechanic, old tom johnson, was checking over the schedule of the mail with fred henshaw, who was to pull the mail. "what do you want?" growled johnson when he saw tim standing in the doorway. "i'm from the _news_," replied tim. "the superintendent wanted a reporter to ride the mail tonight." "what's your name?" asked the master mechanic. "tim murphy." "oh, so you're the flying reporter," smiled johnson as he got out of his chair and shook hands with tim. "i've read a lot about you. glad to know you. meet fred henshaw. he'll give you a few thrills tonight." tim and the engineer shook hands. "we won't go as fast as you do by plane," smiled the engineer, "but we'll go places." "i'm looking forward to the trip," said tim. "it will be a real experience." the telephone rang and the master mechanic answered. "the dispatcher says the mail will be in on the advertised," he said. "that gives us a break for the test run." henshaw nodded and motioned for tim to accompany him into the roundhouse. electric lights high up under the roof tried vainly to pierce the shadows which shrouded the hulking monsters of the rails as they rested in their stalls. there must have been fourteen or fifteen locomotives in the roundhouse, some of them dead; others breathing slowly and rhythmically, awaiting their turn to be called for service on the road. at the far end of the roundhouse there was a glare of light as hostlers finished grooming the for its run that night on the mail. the was the latest thing the southwestern boasted in the way of fast-passenger motive power. it was capable of hauling sixteen all-steel pullmans at seventy miles an hour and was as sleek and trim as a greyhound. the engineer took his torch and made a final inspection to be sure that everything was in readiness for the test run. then he extinguished the torch, threw it up into the cab, and motioned for tim to follow him. the little engineer scrambled up the steps and swung into the cab. tim followed but with not nearly as much grace. the fireman was busy with a long firehook and the glow from the open door of the firebox lighted the cab with a ruddy brilliance. when the iron doors of the firebox slammed shut and the fireman straightened up, the engineer introduced his fireman, harry benson. introductions completed, the engine crew fixed a place for tim on the seat behind the engineer. henshaw looked at his watch. it was eleven forty-five. he stuck his head out the window and looked at the turn-table. it had been swung into place ready for the to steam out of the house. harry benson started the bell ringer, henshaw released the air and opened the throttle a notch. the came to life, steam hissed from its cylinders, the drivers quivered and moved slowly in the reverse motion. the slid out of the roundhouse, rocked a little as it went over the turn-table and then eased down the darkened yards until it came to a stop near the end of the long train shed. at eleven-fifty a penetrating whistle came through the night to be followed several minutes later by the blazing headlight of the westbound mail. the long string of mail cars came to a halt in front of the station, the engine which had brought them in was cut off, and steamed down the yard on its way to the roundhouse. a lantern at the head end of the mail signalled for the to back down and henshaw set the engine in motion again. with a delicate handling of the air he nosed the tender of the against the head mail car. the work of coupling the engine to the train was a matter of seconds. then henshaw tested the air. it worked perfectly and the midnight mail was ready to continue its westward race across the continent. the interior of the cab was lighted by a green-shaded bulb just above the gauges on the boiler. the sides were in the shadows and there was no reflection to bother the engineer as he stared into the night. the conductor ran forward along the train and handed a sheaf of order tissues into the cab. henshaw and his fireman read them together to make sure that they understood every order. "slow order for that new bridge at raleigh is going to hurt," was the only comment the engineer made as he climbed back on his box. mail trucks rumbled along the platform as extra crews hastened the work of unloading and loading the mail. then they were through. the mail was ready for the open steel. the conductor's lantern at the back end of the train flashed in the "high ball" and henshaw answered with two short, defiant blasts of the whistle. the engineer dusted the rails with sand, opened the throttle, and the settled down to its night's work. with nine steel cars of mail to hold it down, the giant engine plunged out of the yards. over the switches they clattered, the cab rocking and reeling as they struck the frogs. they had a straight shot through the yards to the main line and henshaw wasted no time in getting the into its stride. they flashed past the outer signal towers and now only two twin ribbons of steel lay ahead of them. the mail was speeding down the right-hand westbound track. they would meet the eastbound trains coming down the left-hand pair of rails. the needle on the speed indicator mounted steadily as henshaw opened the throttle notch by notch. the 's exhaust was a steady, deafening volley that made conversation impossible. block signals popped up in the searching rays of the headlight to disappear in the thunder of the train almost before tim had time to read their signals. but the engineer saw them all and knew that the steel highway ahead of him was clear. harry benson was busy feeding the fire. he swayed to and fro in the glare from the open firebox. first to the tender, then to the cab with a scoop of coal, then back to the tender for more coal. by the time the mail was five miles out of atkinson, henshaw had the near the peak of its stride. they were rolling down the line at better than seventy miles an hour. it was a dizzy pace and the cab rocked and rolled over the steel. tim marveled at the easy grace of the fireman as he swung back and forth between the cab and the tender, feeding great shovels of coal into the hungry firebox. the mail flashed through sleeping villages and past darkened farmhouses. the country through which they were speeding was sparsely settled and there were few grade crossings. only occasionally did henshaw reach for the whistle cord and send a sharp warning into the night. raleigh was their first scheduled stop and five miles this side of the city they slid down into a valley where a roaring stream rushed under the rails. a repair crew had been strengthening the bridge and had not quite completed their work. as a result the dispatcher had put out a slow order which called for a speed not in excess of thirty miles an hour over the bridge. henshaw glanced at his watch and grumbled to himself as he pinched the mail down to comply with the orders. the air brakes ground hard on the wheels and tim looked back at the train. sparks were flying from every truck, cascading in showers along the right-of-way. they rumbled over the bridge and henshaw opened up again. every minute counted and he rolled the mail into raleigh at a lively clip. there was no need to handle the mail as he would a crack transcontinental limited with extra fare passengers and a diner full of chinaware and henshaw whipped the mail into the station and ground her down hard. they stopped with a jerk that jarred every bone in tim's body. the doors of the mail cars were rolled open and the crew started tossing the pouches. henshaw picked up his torch, lighted it, and dropped down to oil around while benson pulled the spout down from the nearby water tank and gave the engine a drink. high speed means lots of steam and steam means water and more water. hundreds of gallons gushed into the tank on the tender and the fireman had just completed his task when they got the highball. he was still on top of the tender when henshaw cracked his throttle and started the mail on another leg of its fast run. the fireman scrambled down off the swaying tender, opened the firebox, and started throwing in coal like a man possessed. there was a slight grade out of the station at raleigh and the laboring exhaust fairly pulled the fire out the stack. once over the grade the hit her stride and they rolled away along the foothills of the great smokies. this particular main stem of the southwestern ran through the foothills for several hundred miles, finally finding a pass through which the rails continued their journey to the coast. the running would be more precarious now and there was only one more stop and that for water at the village of tanktown, a hamlet where a few railroad men made their home. tim was fascinated by the precision with which the great locomotive worked, with the confidence the engineer displayed in its handling and with the dexterity of the fireman as he fed fuel to the firebox. on and on rushed the mail, the speed never under sixty miles an hour and sometimes well over seventy. just before they plunged into the foothills they struck a stretch of ten miles of almost straight track with only one or two gentle grades. henshaw yelled at his fireman and benson grinned and motioned for the engineer to open the throttle. the bar went back into the last notch and tim felt the engine pulsate with new power. the needle on the speed indicator climbed to seventy-five and kept on. it paused at eighty and then went on up to eighty-three. they were bouncing around in the cab when the little air whistle which the conductor uses in signalling the engine peeped. henshaw waited until the conductor had signalled several times before he eased off on the throttle and they dropped down to the slow pace of sixty-five miles an hour. "i guess we gave the boys behind a thrill," yelled henshaw and the fireman nodded as he straightened up to rest his weary muscles. once in the foothills where the grades were frequent and the curves tighter, their speed dropped below sixty miles an hour. when they stopped at tanktown for coal and water, they were seven minutes ahead of their schedule and henshaw took ample time to touch up the journals and bearings of the great engine with liberal doses of oil. the conductor ran forward. "what's the idea," he demanded. "were you trying to put us all in the ditch?" "keep cool, keep cool," grinned henshaw. "our orders were to make time and we made it." "our orders didn't call for eighty-three miles an hour," sputtered the trainman. "next time you try a stunt like that i'll pull the air on you." "you'll lose time if you do," smiled the engineer. "you sit back in your mail cars and i'll do the worrying about keeping the train on the rails." the fireman yelled that he was ready to go. henshaw looked at his watch and climbed into the cab. the whistle blasted two short, sharp calls and the flagman on the back end swung aboard. the mail sped on the last lap of its inaugural run on the new schedule. mile after mile disappeared behind the red lights of the last car. they were less than forty miles from the end of the division when they swung around a curve to see the rails ahead of them disappear in an inferno of flame. henshaw jammed on the air and leaned far out of the cab. tim dropped down in the gangway and looked ahead. a small patch of timber through which the right-of-way passed was on fire, and a wall of flame barred their way. the engineer pinched his train down to a stop about two hundred yards from the burning timber. even at that distance they could hear the roar of the flames and feel the heat from the cauldron of fire. "looks like this is the end of your run," said tim. "don't know," replied the engineer. "we might make it." "going to try and run the fire?" asked the fireman. "orders say to get the mail through to the west end on time," said the engineer, "and orders are orders. what say, boys?" "i say yes," grinned the fireman. "the steel ought to hold us and we can coast through without much push or pull on the rails." "i'm riding the mail," said tim when the engineer turned to him. "then here we go," decided henshaw. he threw over the reverse lever and started backing away from the flames. when the was a mile from the burning timber he brought the train to a stop. mail clerks and trainmen had their heads out the doors, wondering what the engineer was going to do. the conductor hurried up. "we'll have to stay here," he told the engineer. "stay here? well, i guess not," replied henshaw. "orders say 'on time' at the west end. if you're going to stay with this train, swing on and make it snappy. we're going to run for it." the conductor protested but the engineer set his train in motion and the conductor finally swung on one of the mail cars and climbed inside. the picked up speed rapidly and they rolled down on the fire. "duck down behind the boiler when i yell," said the engineer and tim and the fireman nodded that they understood. the distance between the pilot and the flames was decreasing rapidly. tim slid off the box behind the engineer and clung to one side of the cab. the world ahead was a wall of fire that leaped toward the heavens. tim heard the engineer yell and he ducked behind the head of the boiler. the engine swayed sickeningly but held to the steel. there was the roar of the fire, the stifling heat that seemed to sear its way into his lungs, hot brands filled the cab and he felt his hair scorching in the terrific heat. then the engine stumbled onto cool steel and they were through the burning timber and into the cool night air again. tim shook the cinders from his hair and straightened up. he looked for the engineer and found henshaw industriously beating out tongues of flame which were licking around the window. between flailing his arms at the fire he would stop momentarily to widen out on the throttle as the swung into her stride again. the reporter turned to the fireman's side of the cab. benson was missing. with a cry of alarm, tim summoned the engineer from his side of the cab. "the fireman's gone!" he cried. both of them felt the hand of death grip at their hearts. perhaps a lurch of the cab had thrown benson out and into the flaming woods. there would have been no chance for his survival and they looked at each other with horror written in their faces. the shock of the sudden tragedy left tim speechless and the engineer climbed slowly back to his throttle. there was no joy in the cab of the over their victory with the flames for henshaw had lost the best fireman he had ever had. tim was used to sudden shocks but the one of turning to look for the fireman and finding him gone was one that would remain with him through life. the needle on the steam gauge wavered and started down as the made its heavy demands for power. someone must keep the fire hot. henshaw glanced anxiously at his watch. "we're right on the dot now," he shouted at tim. "if you can throw the black diamonds for about thirty minutes we'll go into the west end on time." "i'll do my best," shouted tim above the noise of the madly working machinery. a foot lever which operated a small steam engine opened the door of the firebox and tim stepped on the lever. the heavy iron doors swung open and he looked into a white-hot pit. the fire was thin in spots and he picked up benson's scoop, set his legs for the pitch and roll of the cab, and swung a scoop of coal into the firebox. the first one went where he intended it but on the second attempt they struck a tight curve and most of the coal went up the engineer's neck. henshaw laughed. "better luck next time," he shouted encouragingly. tim took a fresh grip on the scoop and in less than five minutes had an even bed of coal scattered over the firebox. there was something strange and mysterious about the woods being on fire and it troubled tim, who sought some solution as he swayed from tender to firebox and back to tender. here it was, the spring of the year, and that patch of woods afire. a campfire started by tramps might have spread, but tim doubted that thought. sparks from a passing train might have been the cause but for some reason, perhaps just a newspaperman's intuition, he felt that there was something sinister behind the cause of the fire. "take it easy, we're almost in," shouted henshaw as he pointed to the lights of vinton as they swung around a curve. tim stuck his scoop into the coal pile and straightened up for the first time since he had taken the fireman's place. the muscles in his back ached and his arms were sore, but he felt that he had earned his ride. his thoughts still on the fire, he stepped over to the engineer's side of the cab. "anything of special value on tonight?" he asked. "don't know for sure," replied henshaw as he eased up on the throttle. "there were rumors back at atkinson that there was a lot of _specie_ aboard for some coast bank. never can tell but the mail usually has a pouch or two of valuable mail." tim was silent as henshaw guided the mail through the maze of tracks that marked the east entrance of the yards at vinton. green and red lights blinked out of the night at them. there was the hollow roar as they rumbled past long lines of freight cars on the sidings, the sharp exhaust of a laboring switch engine, the multiple lights of the roundhouse and finally the station itself loomed in the rays of their headlight. at the far end of the big depot tim could see another engine waiting to be hooked onto their train to continue the mail's dash for the coast. henshaw cracked his throttle just enough to bring them in with a flourish and stopped his scorched string of mail cars at the station on time to the second. when tim dropped out of the cab he was astounded to see colonel robert searle, head of the state police, striding toward him. "hello, murphy," said the officer, "what's this i hear about you fellows running through a piece of burning timber?" "that's right, colonel," said tim. "we struck a patch about forty miles down the line and it looked for a time like we weren't going to get through. then mr. henshaw, the engineer, decided to run for it." "you didn't waste much time when you first stopped for the fire did you?" "not any more than we had to," said the engineer. "the string of varnished cars was stepping on a fast schedule." "then that explains why there wasn't a million dollar robbery on this line tonight," said the head of the state police. chapter eleven "million dollar robbery!" exclaimed tim and the engineer. "what do you mean?" "just this," explained colonel searle. "there's a million in cold cash back in one of those mail cars. we got a tip after you were out of raleigh that there might be trouble and there isn't any question but that the timber was set afire in an attempt to stop the train. whoever planned the robbery figured that the train crew would leave the train and go up for a closer view of the fire. when you decided to back up and run for it, you threw a monkey wrench into their plans. it must have been a small gang or they would have attempted to have stopped you even then." "our fireman is missing," put in tim. "when we got the cinders out of our eyes after dashing through the fire we found harry benson gone." "maybe he was in with the gang," suggested colonel searle. "not benson," said the engineer firmly. "he's one of the most loyal men on the line. only one thing could have happened to him. he lost his balance and fell out the gangway." tears were in the engineman's eyes and they were silent for a moment. gray streaks of dawn were making their appearance on the eastern sky when tim and the head of the state police left the mail train. railroad officials had indicated that they would start an investigation of the cause of the fire, but colonel searle informed tim that he intended to make his own inquiry. they were leaving the station when the fresh engine which had been coupled on the mail sounded the "high ball" and another engineer took up the race for the coast. they went to a hotel were ralph, who had just dressed, greeted them. he wanted to know all about the events of the night and tim painted a vivid word picture of what had happened. "we'll get something to eat," said colonel searle, "and then fly down the line and take a look at that timber patch." "do you think this may have something to do with the old sky hawk gang?" asked tim, giving voice to a thought that he had harbored for some time. "looks like one of their fiendishly clever jobs," admitted the colonel, "and it's just about time for them to start something." half an hour later they were at the vinton airport, warming up the motor of the _good news_. the sun was just turning the eastern sky into a warm, rosy dawn when tim gave the motor a heavy throttle and sent the _good news_ winging off the field. he swung the plane over vinton, picked up the twin tracks of the southwestern and headed back toward atkinson. his hands, sore and bruised from handling the heavy scoop, ached as he held the controls of the plane. unconsciously he compared the massive, brute power of the locomotive with the graceful, birdlike machine he was flying. riding the cab of the mail had been an experience he would never forget but he was happy to be back in the clouds on the trail of what promised to be another sensational story. the rails twisted and turned through the foothills and tim marveled as he thought of the speed they had made with the mail, wondered how they had ever stayed on the steel at the dizzying pace with which they had split the night. the hills broadened out, wider valleys appeared and it was in one of these that they found the smouldering patch of timber which had been an inferno of flame and smoke only a few hours before. railroad section men had already gathered at the scene and tim could see other gasoline handcars speeding down the rails. ties would have to be replaced, new ballast put in and the rails tested to make sure that the heat had not warped them. traffic on the system must not be held up a minute longer than necessary and the railroad men were rallying to the emergency. tim found a small meadow which was large enough for a landing. he fish-tailed the _good news_ into the field and set the plane down lightly. they lashed it with spare ropes which tim carried in his own cockpit and then started for the railroad, a quarter of a mile away. blackened stumps of trees reared their heads into the gay sunlight of the spring morning, grim reminders of the near tragedy. perhaps they were the only headstones harry benson would ever have, thought tim, as he wondered if they would find any trace of the fireman. a husky section boss told them to get out and stay out but colonel searle displayed his badge, which gave them access to anything they wanted to see. the entire timber lot was not more than four or five acres in extent. it had been covered with a heavy growth of underbrush and with the drought of the year before it had been tender for any careless or intentional match. small patches of timber were still burning but along the railroad right-of-way the flames had either died down or had been smothered by section men beating at them with wet sacks. "find anything of the fireman?" tim asked one of the workers. "sure," replied the railroad man, "he's up the line a couple hundred feet." "alive?" "you bet. got a broken leg but all right outside of that," grinned the man as he continued beating a sack at a stubborn blaze at the base of a stump. tim waited for no further question but ran toward the far side of the timber lot where a group of railroad men had gathered. they were in a circle around someone on the ground. the flying reporter pushed them aside and looked down on the scorched, smoke-blackened features of harry benson. the fireman was in great pain from his broken leg, but he was making a brave attempt to smile. "hello, reporter," he said. the words were close clipped and came from lips tense with pain. "hello yourself," said tim. "we thought you must have been thrown out into the fire after we missed you last night." "not me," said the fireman. "it was a close call but i didn't get anything more than a bad scorching. who fired for the rest of the run?" tim held out his sore, cramped hands and the railroad men joined in the fireman's laugh. "laugh all you want to," smiled tim, "but i kept that kettle of yours hot and henshaw took her in on time." "how did you happen to fall out of the cab?" asked colonel searle, who had joined the group around the fireman. "i was trying to get one more shovel of coal into the old pot," said benson. "i misjudged the distance and speed and was caught half way between cab and tender when we hit the fire. figured i knew my way back to my side of the cab and made a jump for it. instead of going where i intended i dove out the gangway. good thing for me it only took us about five seconds to run that fire or i'd have plunged right into the center of it. i landed rolling, hit a rock and broke my leg and have been here ever since. now we're waiting for a special that is coming down from vinton with a doctor." "notice anything peculiar about the fire while you were lying here?" asked the officer. "only one thing," admitted the fireman. "it smelled kind of oily and the smoke was mighty dark but my leg was hurting so much i didn't pay a lot of attention to the fire except to worry for fear it might spread and i wouldn't be able to get out of the way." "did you hear any strange sounds?" asked tim. "only once," replied the fireman. "sounded sort of like a high-powered car but when i didn't hear it again i thought i must have been going batty." "didn't see anyone?" asked the colonel. "not until some of these section hunkies came chugging down the line," said the fireman. satisfied that they could gain no additional information from questioning the fireman, tim and colonel searle turned away and joined ralph to start a systematic search of the blackened timber. the two reporters and the head of the state police moved back and forth across the timber, searching for something that might indicate how the fire had started. they covered the section of timber on the right side of the railroad without result and then crossed over the rails and resumed their search on the left side. for half an hour they combed the charred underbrush but without success and they met on the far side of the timber lot to discuss further plans. "slim pickings," commented the colonel. "i haven't found enough to hang on a toothpick." "about all i've got is an idea," said tim as he started toward an old stream bed which cut through the valley. the colonel and ralph, their curiosity aroused, followed the flying reporter. the creek which ran through the valley had changed its channel a number of times and its old courses were filled with rubbish which the wind had deposited. it was in these old creek beds that tim resumed his search. he had not been hunting five minutes when his cry brought the colonel and ralph to his side. below them, hidden in the underbrush of the old channel, they saw half a dozen large tin containers. "that's how your fire was started," said tim. "someone doused the timber with a generous supply of crude oil and how that stuff does burn." they slid down the bank of the old creek bed and tim and ralph pulled one of the containers out where they could get a better view. "careful how you handle those," warned colonel searle, "and don't move more than one or two. i'll have a fingerprint expert out here to look them over. we may find a valuable story in the fingerprints if the chaps who started the fire got careless." "they're not the type to overlook any clues," said tim. "not as a rule," conceded the colonel, "but you must remember they wouldn't have figured in the state police being in on this so soon. believe me, it was a clever stunt of theirs setting fire to the woods and using that as a ruse to stop the mail. if it hadn't been for the determination of engineer henshaw to get his train through on the new schedule on time, we'd have had something to really worry about this morning. if it had been a large gang they would have attempted to stop you anyway so it must have been a small, brainy outfit. just the type of fellows the sky hawk used to have in his outfit." there were no identifying marks on the containers and tim and ralph were careful not to disturb more than the one they had pulled into view. the whistle of the special from vinton sounded and when they climbed back to the level floor of the valley, they saw the stubby three car train grinding to a halt. behind the engine were two cars loaded with construction material, new rails and ties and fresh ballast. the last car was a passenger coach which was disgorging half a hundred workmen. a doctor, nurse and several railroad officials also got off the rear car and hastened toward the injured fireman. "benson will soon be out of his agony," said tim. "what a night he must have had, lying there with the flames all around and practically helpless because of his broken leg." a telegraph operator who had come down on the special was busy shinning up a telegraph pole to cut in his instrument and place the scene of the fire in communication with the dispatcher and other points on the division. "i'm going to have that fellow telegraph for our fingerprint expert to meet you at atkinson," said the colonel. "you boys fly back home, write your stories, and bring him back. it will save hours over the best train connections he could make, and he may be able to read a surprising story if there are any fingerprints on these empty oil cans." chapter twelve tim and ralph left the colonel and started for the _good news_. on their way they passed over a small, level piece of ground. two strange looking marks, about six feet apart and from thirty to forty feet long, attracted tim's attention and he stopped to examine them. "trying to read 'footprints in the sands of time'?" asked ralph. "not exactly footprints," grinned tim, "but these marks didn't just get here. someone made them and i'd like to know what for." "they look like those made by airplane landing wheels," suggested ralph, "but a plane couldn't land or take off in this short a space." tim studied the marks carefully and then proceeded toward the _good news_ without making any further comment on his discovery. the flying reporters swung their plane around and ralph unblocked the wheels while tim warmed up the motor. then they sped away toward atkinson, leaving the charred and blackened remains of the timber behind them. when they landed at their home field, the managing editor was waiting for them. "what's this about an attempt at a million dollar robbery?" he demanded. tim and ralph looked at each other blankly. they had not dreamed that the news might have preceded them for they thought the railroad people and the state police were trying to keep it under cover. "how did you find out about it?" asked ralph. "a little birdie flew in and whispered in my ear," grinned the managing editor. "the rumor is correct," admitted tim. "some gang set a patch of timber on fire last night in an attempt to stop the mail and get away with that shipment of money to the west coast. the only thing that averted the holdup was the quick action of the engineer in deciding to run through the fire and his speed in reversing his train and backing up a mile to make a run for it." "it must have been a thrill riding in the cab when you shot through the flame and smoke," said carson. "almost too much of a thrill," conceded tim. "the fireman fell out of the cab and broke a leg. i finished firing on the run into vinton and this morning they found the fireman lying along the right-of-way. he was suffering from shock. lucky thing for him the fire didn't spread." "then you've plenty of material for a corking good yarn," exclaimed carson. "hop in the car and we'll head for the office." tim and ralph told everything that had taken place and the managing editor became more enthused as their story progressed. "you think it may be some members of the old sky hawk gang?" he asked. "i've got a hunch that it is," said tim. "that will make a fine angle to bring into the story," said carson. "if i mention that we suspect any of the old gang, it will queer our chances of getting them," said tim. "i'll write you a story every reader of the paper will find interesting but i don't want to give away whom we suspect. those oil cans back there may have some fingerprints on them that will prove valuable clues." the managing editor finally agreed to tim's wishes and when they reached the _news_ building tim and ralph went to their typewriters and started writing their stories. tim wrote the main story of the attempt to rob the train, making it vivid with glowing descriptions of the train's race through the flaming timber. ralph wrote the story of the investigation and then tim dashed off a column about the fireman who, his leg broken, had laid along the right-of-way with the flames threatening to bring his death. both young reporters were alive to the excitement of the hour and they breathed their own interest into their stories. as a result the copy they placed on the managing editor's desk was brilliant, readable material of the kind that would make any managing editor's heart warm. carson read the stories with a quick eye, pencil poised to mark out errors. but he found none and when he had finished he leaned back in his swivel chair and smiled at tim and ralph. "another piece of fine work," he said. "believe me, you boys can write." "stories like those don't have to be written," said tim. "they write themselves." carson glanced at the clock. it was almost noon. "better get some lunch if you're going to fly the fingerprint expert back to the scene of the attempted robbery," he said. "we won't have time to eat," said ralph. "you'll take time," ordered the managing editor. "after all the energy and brain power you've used in writing these stories you need to give your bodies food." "now this is an assignment. go down to the red mill and order the biggest steaks they have in the house. take at least forty-five minutes for your lunch and forget to pay the check as you leave. they'll put it on my account. mind now, i want you to relax. your minds will work much better after you've had something to eat." the boys promised they would obey the managing editor's instructions and went to the red mill where they discussed the events of the preceding hours over thick, juicy steaks. when the flying reporters returned to the airport, a thin, bespectacled young man who carried a black brief case under one arm was waiting for them. "i'm charlie collins, fingerprint man for the state police," he told them. the flying reporters introduced themselves and then turned to the manager of the airport, who was standing nearby. "plane all ready to go?" asked tim. "everything o. k.," replied hunter, "and the sky's clear all the way. there's a tail wind that will help all the way." "faster the better," grinned tim. "how fast will you travel?" asked the fingerprint expert nervously. "oh, about two hundred," replied tim. "two hundred miles an hour!" "sure," said tim. "we can even do a little better than that if you're in such a hurry to get down there." "i'm in a hurry all right," said collins, "but not 'two hundred miles an hour' in a hurry. i've never been up before." "you'll like it," said ralph. "greatest thrill you'll ever have." "will it bump and jump around badly?" asked the fingerprint expert. "rides smoother than a pullman on a day like this," promised tim. "well, since colonel searle ordered me to come down with you, i'll have to go," concluded collins, "but i'd much rather make the trip by auto or by train." "you'll like it once you're up," said tim as he helped the suspicious one into the forward cockpit. ralph buckled the safety belt on their passenger and then fastened his own. tim flipped the wings, waggled the stick, and they roared off the field. when the wheels left the ground, the fingerprint expert let out a shriek that even tim could hear above the motor but as soon as they were in the air, collins' nerves settled and he started to enjoy his ride. tim shoved the throttle well ahead and their air speed climbed to one hundred eighty miles an hour. there were plenty of clouds in the sky but there was a ceiling of three thousand feet and tim sent the _good news_ dancing along. almost before they knew it they were circling down to land in the field they had used earlier in the day. colonel searle was waiting to greet them and he gave charlie collins a hand down from the forward cockpit. "how did you like the ride?" tim asked the fingerprint expert. "i was scared stiff at the start," admitted collins, "but after we were off the ground i enjoyed every minute of it." "thought you would," smiled tim. they staked down the _good news_ and then hurried across the railroad tracks and on to the old creek bed where they had found the empty oil containers. collins took charge of the investigation and tim and ralph sat down to watch him work. the fingerprint expert moved slowly and carefully, fearful lest he might blot out some print that would be valuable. every tin was examined and the fingerprints recorded and filed for comparison with the records at the headquarters of the state police. "anything that looks familiar?" asked colonel searle when collins had finished his task. "can't be sure," replied the expert. "some of them look like prints by the sky hawk's old crowd. i won't know for sure until i can get back to the records in the office." tim and ralph looked at each other significantly. here was another mention of the sky hawk. the trail was getting warmer. the railroad men had completed the work of repairing the right-of-way where it had been damaged by the fire, and trains, delayed for hours, were on their way once more. transcontinental limiteds and long strings of refrigerator cars were wheeling down the steel as fast as their engineers could roll them. colonel searle decided to ride back to vinton on one of the trains and requested tim and ralph to take collins to atkinson with them. this the flying reporters agreed to do and in less than ten minutes they were winging their way homeward, passing train after train which seemed to be little more than crawling along the twin ribbons of steel. when they slid down out of the sky to a perfect three point the sun was far down in the west. less than twenty-four hours had elapsed since tim had climbed into the cab of the midnight mail at the union station but many things had happened in those few hours and more portended. a car was waiting at the field to whisk the fingerprint expert away, but before collins left he promised to telephone the _news_ office whatever secrets the fingerprints might unfold. tim and ralph helped the mechanics wheel their plane into the hangar and then started for the city. they had dinner and then went to the _news_ office to await whatever word there might be from the fingerprint expert. the building was deserted except for a scrub-woman who was busy swishing her mop around the desks in the business office on the main floor. tim and ralph walked up to the editorial office and switched on the lights over their desks. the telephones, which kept up an almost incessant clamor during the daytime, were silent, sulking on the desks. the electric printers which brought in the news of the world in never ending sheets of copy paper slept beneath their steel hoods. it was strange how quiet the plant could be at night. with the setting of the sun its life seemed to drain away, only to return again with the sunrise. tim worked on his aviation column for the next day while ralph wrote a feature on the speed with which the railroad crews had repaired the right-of-way damaged by the fire. it was mid-evening before the telephone on tim's desk rang. the summons were imperative. tim took the receiver off the hook and his hand shook. ralph stopped work and came over to lean over his shoulder. the call was from the headquarters of the state police. it was collins, the fingerprint expert, speaking. chapter thirteen the connection was poor and tim was forced to call the operator and ask for a better wire. finally they were able to hear collins distinctly. "i've checked up on the fingerprints," said the expert, "and they tally with those of shanghai sam and pierre petard, two members of the old sky hawk gang!" tim's hand trembled as he heard the words. shanghai sam and pierre petard were considered the two most dangerous members of the gang next to the sky hawk himself. the hawk was gone but sam and pierre were carrying on for him. collins talked steadily for several minutes. "remember how you chased the sky hawk when he had the death ray?" he asked. tim replied in the affirmative. "from all the dope i can get," said collins, "sam and pierre were with the hawk that night, one of them in the plane itself and the other waiting to help with the getaway on the ground. of course they'll have no scruples if you cross their path. in fact, they would probably go out of their way to meet you. pleasant prospect, isn't it?" "not so pleasant," replied tim, "for those chaps will stop at nothing." the reputation of shanghai sam and pierre petard was known to every police official in the central west. petard had served in the allied aviation forces during the war but he had later been revealed as a german spy and had thrown his lot with that of the sky hawk, former german war ace. shanghai sam came from the opposite end of the world, a white man who had been king of the crooks in the far east. when the middle west had offered a richer field he had not hesitated to transfer his activities and had joined the sky hawk and his band. "have you found any trace of either of them, except the fingerprints, near the scene of the attempted robbery?" asked tim. "i looked over the reports a few minutes ago," replied collins, "and they must have vanished into thin air." "i'm not so sure but what that's exactly what they did," said tim as he thought of the queer marks he had found near the railroad right-of-way. collins warned them to be extremely careful of their movements for the next few days and then hung up. "well, what do you think of that?" asked ralph. "just about what i expected," said tim, "i was convinced that men trained under the sky hawk were behind the attempt. they are the only ones with the brains and the daring to have thought of such a way to stop the mail. the only thing that averted a million dollar robbery last night was the quick hand of engineer henshaw and his decision to run through the fire." "the railroad ought to retire him on a double pension," said ralph. "don't think he'd want to retire," said tim. "he's the kind who will stay at the throttle until he is too old to stand the strain of the high speed demanded today." their conversation turned to what might happen in the future and how best to protect themselves against shanghai sam and pierre petard. "our best protection will be to keep on the alert," said tim. "we'll keep our eyes open and our wits about us. in the morning we'll get some pictures of sam and pierre from the state police and become more familiar with their looks. they'll try another job in a few days and we'll want to be ready to cope with them in any emergency." they left the office together and long after tim had gone to bed he thought of the strange marks. they were connected in some important way, he felt, with shanghai sam and pierre petard. the next day tim went to the public library where he spent the morning reading all that was available about pierre petard, the former war hero. there was nothing in the library about pierre petard the criminal. tim also read voluminously about the development of airplanes and of the many freak planes that had been invented and of a few that had been made to fly. there was a growing conviction in his mind, but he was not yet prepared to divulge it even to ralph. it was so simple that they might all laugh at him. when tim returned to the office, captain ned raymond was talking to ralph. the captain had pictures of shanghai sam and pierre petard for the flying reporters to study. "they'll try something else soon," asserted the state police official, "and we'll rely on you boys to help us in running them down. the railroad has offered a five thousand dollar reward and it will be yours if you bring about their capture." "we'll do the best we can," promised tim, "for the five thousand dollars would come in handy." "just two thousand five hundred dollars apiece," smiled ralph. "what a lot of ice cream that would buy," he added. captain raymond cautioned the flying reporters against taking any undue chances and warned them that the state police were without a single clue as to where sam and pierre were hiding. "you'll never find them in atkinson," said tim. "why not?" asked the police official. "it's the largest city in this part of the state." "they'll never hide in any city," said tim. "when you find them it will be in some isolated section of the state, perhaps in the valley of the cedar." "have you any clues?" demanded captain raymond. "nary a clue," replied tim, "but i've a hunch and i believe in playing hunches." captain raymond was about to leave when one of the telephones on the copy desk rang. they heard the copy-reader who answered shout, "bank robbery!" the words sent a chill of apprehension through tim and ralph. tim had been convinced that the gangsters of the sky would strike again but he had not expected it would be within forty-eight hours after their failure to rob the million dollar train. "what bank?" he cried. "citizens national," replied the copyreader, who was busy writing a bulletin in longhand as the police reporter dictated the story. "how much?" demanded captain raymond. "one hundred and ten thousand in cold cash," said the copyreader. "let's go," said tim, and they dashed for captain raymond's car, which was parked in front of the building. in five minutes they were at the citizens national bank building, elbowing their way through the crowd which had gathered. their state police badges got them past the cordon of guards and they rushed into the lobby. the robbery had been well planned and executed. the two bandits had entered the bank just before closing time and secreted themselves in a washroom. just as the cashier was about to place the currency in the vault, they emerged and covered the employees with a sub-machine gun. one of them took the money, stuffing it in a brown leather portfolio. then they slipped out a side entrance and into a waiting car. twenty more seconds and they were lost in the heavy traffic. a clerk had gathered his wits enough to obtain the license and a brief description of the car. it had been a black coupe, low and powerful, with license no. - . state police were scouring the highways but so far there had been no report of the car. then came the news that the coupe had been stolen only a few hours before in a village fifty miles away and toward the cedar river. when that news reached the bank, tim determined to take up the chase in the _good news_ and fifteen minutes after leaving the bank the plane was soaring into the sky. chapter fourteen the flying reporters headed into the east toward the valley of the cedar river. tim's mind was working rapidly. the robbery had all the signs of having been done by shanghai sam and pierre petard. the smooth efficiency with which they had worked and the perfection of their escape pointed to the plans of men well versed in crime. the _good news_ roared over the village from which the bandit car had last been reported and tim swung the plane low. excited residents pointed down a road that angled away to the right. tim kept the _good news_ low and they sped along the country highway, every nerve tensed for some glimpse of the bandit machine. they were not more than fifteen miles from the village and in a desolate part of the state when they saw smoke rising from the highway ahead of them. with a startled cry tim realized what had happened. the bandits' car had been wrecked and had then caught on fire. even though shanghai sam and pierre petard were villains of the deepest dye, he had no desire to wish any man death under a flaming car. the _good news_ circled slowly over the twisted, red-hot wreckage of the machine. there was no sign of life and tim decided to attempt a landing in a small, level space nearby. the pilot of the _good news_ brought his ship down in the field and made a quick stop. ralph, white-faced and shaking, turned to face tim. "do you think they were caught in the wreckage?" he asked. "can't tell," replied tim. "we'll have a look." the reporters crashed through the underbrush along the road and came upon the smouldering remains of the car. they made a careful survey but could find no trace of anyone having been trapped under the machine. "don't tramp all over the road," tim warned his companion. "there may be some footprints we'll want to follow. i've a hunch this burning car was nothing more than a clever ruse to throw pursuers off the trail. we've wasted plenty of time landing and getting over here. in the meantime, the bandits are well on their way in some other kind of a machine." "they didn't get away in a car," said ralph. "look at the road. there hasn't been a wagon or auto along since the light rain last night. they've taken to the brush." "we'll never find them in the brush," promised tim. "they're too clever for that. a posse would smoke them out. we'll have a look around and see what we can find." they discovered the footprints of two men but the marks looked as though someone had made a hasty attempt to cover them up. when the trail entered the brush the footprints were soon lost to view. "we'll swing around the car in circles," said tim. "in that way we ought to come upon their trail somewhere. keep an eye on the direction it was headed when we lost it." ralph nodded and disappeared in the closely matted underbrush. tim could hear his companion's footsteps growing fainter and fainter until they could be heard no longer. the flying reporter moved carefully, eyes on the alert for any sign which might give him some clue on how the bandits had escaped after wrecking and setting fire to their machine. he found what he was looking for in a small clearing in the underbrush. there were two parallel marks, spaced about six feet apart, and extending for thirty or forty feet. they were exactly like the marks which he had found near the scene of the attempted holdup of the midnight mail only a few days before. tim cupped his hands and called lustily for ralph. an answering cry came for a distance and five minutes later ralph threshed his way through the heavy scrub. "look at those," tim cried exultantly. "same thing we saw near the railroad right-of-way after they tried to hold up the mail train. when we find out what they mean and what they were made by we'll have the secret of these robberies." "they look like they had been made by the wheels of an airplane," said ralph, "but no plane could take off in such a short distance." "how about an autogyro?" suggested tim. "good heavens," exclaimed ralph. "i'll bet you've got the solution." "i only wish i had," smiled tim, shaking his head. "when i first saw those marks the day after the burning of the timber along the railroad right-of-way i thought of an autogyro. when i looked up their capabilities i found that they wouldn't fit into the picture. no, ralph, it's not an autogyro." "but whatever makes those marks must help them to escape," said ralph. "we can only guess at that," tim warned him. "those marks might, just possibly, be coincidence and not be connected with the bandits." "you'll never make me believe that," said ralph. "and i probably never will myself," conceded tim, "but i'm not going to take anything for granted. we're up against something that is going to test our brains and our nerves to the utmost." the young reporters continued their search but after half an hour had discovered nothing which would aid them. "we'd better get back to our plane and report where we found the bandit car," said tim. "all right," agreed ralph, "but before we do i want to take a final look at the wreck of their machine. it's cooled off somewhat and i'd like to look it over. there may be some marks on the body that will give us a clue." the wind had been rising steadily and was whipping through the underbrush, whining a symphony all its own. then the young reporters caught a sudden alarming smell of smoke and heard the crackling of flames. "someone must be near us," said ralph. "i smell smoke and can hear a fire." the words were hardly out of his mouth when a sheet of flame, whipped by the angry wind, leaped into the air. "the fire from the car has spread to the underbrush," cried tim. "quick, ralph, or we'll be cut off from our plane." in another second their danger was clearer. some vagrant tongue of flame, gnawing at the woodwork of the car, had reached out and fired the underbrush. the shower of the preceding night had been only enough to dampen the dust of the road and the brush and weeds were quickly devoured by the spreading flames. tim and ralph raced through the underbrush, tearing their clothes to shreds as they crashed against stumps or fought their way out of tangles of briars. their faces were scratched and bleeding but they did not stop. their life depended on their legs and they used every ounce of their strength in the grim race against the fire. the flames were roaring hungrily, advancing on them with a terrible certainty of purpose. the reporters' lungs ached cruelly as the boys plunged on, gasping for the breath that was needed to give them the strength to continue. the clearing in which they had left the _good news_ should be near at hand but still they crashed through the undergrowth. on and on they stumbled, the crackling of the flames spurring them to new effort. "i'm all in," gasped ralph as he dropped in a pitiful huddle. "go on, tim, go on! i'll make it out of here somehow." "get up, ralph, get up!" cried tim as he tugged at his companion's limp body. "the fire," he screamed, "the fire! we can't stay here! we must go on!" ralph made a brave effort to get to his feet and with tim supporting him stumbled on. clouds of smoke billowed around them, filling their lungs, and waves of heat beat down upon them as the wind swept the fire nearer and nearer. with cries of relief they staggered into the small, level place where they had left the _good news_. the biplane was waiting for them, eager to sweep them up into the air and away from the fire. the boys tumbled into their places and tim snapped on the switches. the motor coughed once or twice and then roared into its sweet, even song of power. there was no time to turn the plane around, no time to wonder if there was room to take off. there was only time for one thing; to jam the throttle wide open, send the _good news_ roaring down the wind and hope that she would lift clear of the brush when the time came. ralph snapped on his safety belt and tim secured himself in his own cockpit. then they were off, rocketing over the uneven ground as the plane gained speed. the powerful motor shattered the heavens with its defiance of the flame and smoke billowing after and lifted the plane clear of the tangled underbrush which raised its arms in a futile effort to entangle the plane. the boys filled their lungs with the clear, pure air of the upper regions as the _good news_ started on the return trip to atkinson. both ralph and tim were busy thinking of the recent events and of their discoveries at the scene of the wrecked car. they were thankful for their escape, narrow though it had been, from the brush fire. when they landed at their home field tim went straight to the administration building and telephoned news of the fire to the state conservation office where steps would be taken to send men to fight the flames. after seeing that the _good news_ was properly cared for the boys returned to the _news_ office. captain raymond was waiting for them. "what news?" he asked eagerly. "not very much," replied tim. "they got away. we found their car, wrecked and on fire, along a little used road. thought they might have been caught in the wreckage and we landed nearby and went to have a look. it was only a ruse to throw us off the trail and slow up the chase. they might have had another car hidden nearby. at least we couldn't find any definite trace of them." "i've checked up on the descriptions of the men who robbed the citizens national," said the state policeman, "and i'm sure that shanghai sam and pierre petard did the job. find them and we'll rid the middle west of a real menace." "find them is right," said ralph. "looks to me like that is about the hardest thing anyone around here ever tackled." "i think it is the hardest," said captain raymond grimly, as he got up to leave the office. "thanks a lot boys," he said. "too bad you couldn't have been in the air sooner or you might have traced them from the time they left the city." "that's an idea," said tim. "we could arrange to have one or the other of us at the field all the time. when an alarm comes in flash it to us there and the _good news_ could be in the air in less than five minutes." "good suggestion," said captain raymond. "i'll see mr. carson at once." the lanky figure of the state officer disappeared into the managing editor's office and tim and ralph looked at each other and smiled. "if carson will agree to a plan like that, we'll get somewhere," promised tim. "why didn't you tell him about the strange marks we found?" asked ralph. "wouldn't do any good and besides i want to do a little private sleuthing of my own. we might just as well have that fat reward the railroad people have out. the bank may offer a sizeable sum and it won't be long until the capture of shanghai sam and pierre petard will mean a small fortune." captain raymond, accompanied by the managing editor, came into the editorial office. "boys," said carson, "captain raymond believes one of you should stay at the airport all the time in case there are any more robberies. i agree with him and we'll work out arrangements at once." in less than an hour tim was back at the airport where he explained his needs to the genial manager. hunter agreed to put an extra cot in the pilot's room and tim sent into town for bed clothes and toilet articles he would need. it had been decided that tim would take the night shift, sleeping at the field while ralph would remain there during the day. the reporters soon settled into the new routine. hours lengthened into days and there was no further word of the gangsters who had robbed the citizens national. it was as though the world had swallowed them. the state police never relaxed their vigilance and extended their tentacles into every section of the state but without avail. no one seemed to know where shanghai sam and pierre petard had gone after they had wrecked their car. the spring days faded into those of early summer and tim and ralph were restless under the routine which kept them on such confining hours. they didn't dare venture away from the airport, yet both of them had commenced to feel that their steady vigil was of little avail. tim continued to read avidly all of the aviation journals he could buy as well as spending considerable time looking into the files of old technical magazines and heavy volumes which he borrowed from the library tim had returned to the field late in the afternoon to relieve ralph and they were discussing plans for their summer vacation when the telephone rang. hunter summoned tim. the young reporter instantly recognized the voice of captain raymond, tense with excitement. "another robbery," he cried. "this time there is no mistake. it was shanghai sam and pierre petard. they weren't even masked." "where was it?" cried tim. "at hospers," shot back the captain. "they walked into the bank just before it closed, made the employees shut the doors right on time and then took an hour to thoroughly loot the institution. first reports indicate something over $ , in cash." "they don't bother with chicken feed," exclaimed tim. "what direction did they head?" "toward the river valley!" cried the captain. "my men are after them but you may be able to spot them from the air." "we'll start at once," promised tim. ralph, who had heard tim's excited voice, was ready to go. "where to?" he asked. "hospers," replied tim. "it's that little industrial town about fifteen miles northeast of here. sam and pierre just picked the bank clean and made a getaway. captain raymond's men are on their trail but maybe we can spot them from the air and force them to cover." "right," agreed ralph. "let's go." tim stopped only long enough to snatch a repeating rifle from a case on the wall of the field manager's office and then they were on their way. the _good news_ was ready for them and ralph climbed into the front cockpit. tim handed the rifle up to him and then swung into his own place. the motor roared into action, blasted the dust from under its wheels, and then flirted them across the field and into the air. tim opened the throttle and the air speed indicator went up to the one hundred ninety mile an hour mark. in almost no time they were over the town of hospers and the red-roofed buildings which comprised its large farm machinery factory. on into the east they sped, high enough to get a commanding view of all the highways for miles around. tim figured that the robbers had started their escape less than half an hour before and they should sight the bandit car soon unless they had already taken to cover. beneath them powerful touring cars, loaded with state troopers, were dashing madly along the highways but there was no sign of the machine they sought. tim and ralph swept the countryside with eyes trained for the slightest unusual sign. they roared well ahead of the troopers and then swung in ever widening circles in their effort to find their quarry. a cry from ralph fixed tim's attention on a small smudge along the road ahead. something was on fire! the _good news_ dropped out of the sky like an avenging eagle, motor whining and wires shrieking. the plane hurtled earthward in a power dive that made the fuselage quiver and it was not until they were under the five hundred foot level that tim brought the nose up and checked their mad descent. below them was the body of a wrecked automobile with flames licking at the cushions and woodwork. "the fire's just started," cried ralph. "they can't be far away." tim nodded and set the _good news_ down in a field a quarter of a mile back from the road. "we may be able to get them this time," exulted ralph as he leaped out of the front cockpit, rifle in hand. "don't see how they could be far away," admitted tim. "the least we can do is take a look at that wrecked machine." the boys broke into a fast trot and were soon at the edge of the road where the powerful touring car in which the bandits had made their escape had been ditched. "smells to me like they had taken some gasoline out of the tank and thrown it over the car," said ralph. tim had been making a quick survey of the road. it was a graveled highway and there were no footprints to give them a clue on which direction the robbers had fled. "we'd better get back to the _good news_ and get into the air again," said tim. the words were hardly out of his mouth when they heard the motor of the _good news_ break into its familiar song. "they've tricked us!" cried. tim. "they're stealing our own plane!" the reporters plunged madly toward the field in which they had left their plane but before they had covered half the distance they saw the _good news_ shoot into the air. ralph and tim, weeping with rage, watched their plane gain altitude and then circle over them. the pilot leaned far out and waved derisively. ralph's answer was to drop on one knee and send a stream of well directed bullets at the plane overhead. they could see the bullets rip through the wings. ralph, aiming at the propeller, was undershooting his mark. if he could land just one good shot in the whirling blade, it would disable the plane and bring the bandits back to earth. ralph exhausted the supply of ammunition in the magazine of his rifle and was helpless as the bandits headed the _good news_ in an easterly direction. "what chumps we were, knowing they couldn't be far away, to leave the _good news_ unguarded," mourned tim. "we may have to hunt for new jobs when carson hears of this," added ralph. "i'm not thinking of that so much as i am the humiliation," said tim. "here the state police feel that we are reliable and brainy enough to help them and then we go and pull a boner like this. i'll tell carson what happened if you'll tell captain raymond and colonel searle." "here comes the captain now," said ralph as a touring car, loaded with state police, skidded to a stop in the gravel. "get them?" cried captain raymond. "they got us," said tim. "we spotted their burning car and landed to have a look. while we were hunting around their wrecked machine they slipped behind us and stole the _good news_. if you look east, you may see a speck against the clouds. that's the _good news_ and they're in it." captain raymond stared incredulously at tim. "you mean to tell me you let them steal your plane?" he demanded. "i'm afraid that's about right," put in ralph. "we didn't exactly offer them the plane but they helped themselves anyway." captain raymond broke into a hearty laugh, but stopped abruptly as he saw the expressions on the faces of tim and ralph. "you wouldn't blame me for laughing," he said, "if you could have seen the woebegone looks on your faces just now. come on, cheer up. they pulled a fast one on you this time but they won't do it again. we were pretty close this time; next time we'll be close enough so we can land them in jail. pile into the car, boys and we'll swing further east, picking up what information we can on the direction in which they are heading." chapter fifteen twenty-five miles east of the place where the bandits had stolen the _good news_, tim, ralph and the state police came upon the crumpled remains of the plane. from all indications the bandits had landed safely, then opened the throttle and sent the _good news_ charging into a clump of trees. the wings of the crimson plane had folded back along the fuselage, the propeller was splintered into a thousand bits and it was generally ready for the scrap heap. tim went wild with rage and wept in his futile anger. when he finally calmed down it was with a quietness that foreboded no good for shanghai sam and pierre petard. "we can't learn anything more by inspecting what's left of the _good news_," he said. "let's circle around and see if we can find trace of a car they might have had waiting for them to make their getaway." captain raymond agreed that tim's suggestion was a good one and the state police spread out in their search for clues. tim and ralph, working together, found the only clue of the afternoon. half a mile beyond the wreckage of the _good news_ they found two marks, about six feet apart and nearly forty feet long, in a small field which was hidden from the nearest road by a heavy growth of trees. tim made a careful inspection of the marks. "that settles it," he said finally. "i'm going east tonight and when i come back we'll make it hot for the fellows who stole the _good news_ and then deliberately crashed it." when they returned to atkinson, tim carried his story to the managing editor and carson was wrathfully indignant. he had no word of censure for his flying reporters. instead, he praised them for their daring and urged them to new efforts in the detection of shanghai sam and pierre petard. "i'm playing a long hunch," said tim, "but i feel that if i can go east tonight, i'll be able to learn information there that will bring about the arrest of this pair of air pirates." "go as far as you like, tim," said the managing editor, "just as long as you deliver the goods." "thanks, mr. carson. i'll leave on the early night train for new york." ralph helped tim throw a few things in a traveling bag and saw his flying companion to the union station and aboard the limited which would carry him on his quest for new clues. "what's clicking in the old bean?" ralph asked as they stood beside the pullman. "just a wild hunch," said tim, "and i don't want to be laughed at if it goes wrong. that's why i'm keeping it under my hat. if there is anything to it, you'll be the first to find out. and say, while i'm away, beg a plane off carl hunter and have it ready when i return. we may need a ship in a hurry. we've done plenty of favors for carl and he'll be glad to help us out." "i'll have a ship ready before you're back," promised ralph as tim swung up on the steps of the slowly moving train. "good luck." the limited picked up speed and its tail lights vanished as ralph stood on the platform, wondering what queer mission had taken tim east so suddenly. thirty-six hours after leaving atkinson tim awoke to find his train pulling into the outskirts of new york. the steam locomotive was uncoupled from the long string of pullmans and an electric engine took its place at the head of the train for the few remaining miles into the heart of the city. the train picked up speed rapidly and rolled steadily into manhattan, hesitating only a moment before it plunged into the darkness of the tunnel under the river. then they were in the great terminal, where trains were arriving or departing continuously throughout the day. tim went to a hotel the managing editor had recommended and after leaving his traveling bag set forth in quest of the information which he felt would result in the apprehension of shanghai sam and pierre petard and put an end to the series of crimes which they had carried out successfully in the middle west. the flying reporter's first call was at the office of the largest aircraft manufacturer in the united states. after some insistence he was admitted to the office of herman bauer, the chief designer, a quiet, gray-haired man. in a few words tim explained his mission. "i'm glad you came to us," said bauer. "i've been reading of these robberies and once or twice the stories have mentioned how completely the bandits disappear and that the only marks they leave behind are those parallel lines in small clearings." "then you've guessed what they must be using?" asked tim eagerly. "yes," assented bauer, "but i'm afraid i can't help you much more than to say that i believe you're on the right track. our company doesn't go in for that sort of thing and if we did we'd have to have assurance that the machine would be used legally." "i hardly expected that your firm was involved in any way," explained tim, "but with your knowledge of the companies capable of doing such a job i thought you might be able to give me some valuable leaders." "i can't off hand," replied the designer, "but if you'll come back this afternoon i'll make some inquiries in the meantime and may have information that will help you." tim thanked the aviation expert and passed the remaining hours of the morning walking through the streets of busy, restless new york. at two o'clock he returned to herman bauer's office. the designer greeted tim cordially and turned to introduce a younger man who was in his office. "i want you to know mac giddings," he told tim. "mac is one of my assistants and has managed to uncover some information that should help you." tim and the assistant designer shook hands cordially. they were of the same type, tall and slender, with a seriousness of purpose that brought an immediate and warm friendship. "i've heard rumors for some time that a little company back in the jersey mountains was up to some kind of a trick that wasn't altogether above board," said giddings. "one of our draughtsmen was fired by them but before he left he saw enough of the plans to see what they had in mind. if you say the word, we'll hop in my car and drive out. we can make it before sundown." tim agreed to the assistant designer's suggestion and they were soon threading their way through the heavy mid-afternoon traffic. once out of the heart of the city they struck a thoroughfare and sped across the jersey flats. the flying reporter told his new friend of their experiences with shanghai sam and pierre petard and gave him an outline of his own conclusions. "seems to me you've found the solution," said giddings as he swung his machine off the main highway. "and i wouldn't be surprised if we verify it within the next two or three hours." the roads became rougher and their car labored up steep grades. farm houses looked less prosperous and by six o'clock they had reached a section of jersey with which few people were familiar. they were almost to the pennsylvania line in a wild, sparsely settled region. "we'd better leave my car here," said giddings, "and go the rest of the way on foot." he drove his car behind a thicket that screened it from the view of any chance passerby and they continued their journey afoot. half an hour later they topped a ridge and looked down on a valley, flanked on each side by small clearings. to the right of the creek were several frame houses while on the left side was a wide, low building, half frame, half canvas, which could be nothing but a hangar. "take it easy," cautioned giddings. "these people don't like strangers and they're apt to shoot first and ask questions afterwards." tim and the assistant designer made their way toward the clearings with great caution. fortunately they were on the left bank of the stream and would not have to cross it in order to reach the hangar. a small crew of mechanics who had been at work in the hangar came out of the building and made their way across the rough bridge and to one of the houses which evidently was used as a mess house. "now's our chance," whispered giddings as he moved toward the hangar. "you don't need to go," said tim, grabbing at his companion. "there is no need for you to take any chances. this is my game and i can see it through now." "i've voted myself in on it," said giddings. "let's go." they moved quietly through the underbrush and made their way toward the rear of the hangar. there they stopped and listened to make sure that no one had been left on guard. "all clear," whispered tim. "i'm going in." the flying reporter found a place where he could wiggle under the canvas wall at the rear of the hangar. giddings was right behind him and when they stood up it was to look upon the most unusual workshop either of them had ever seen. workbenches and lathes were along the walls of the makeshift hangar but the object which held their attention was the monoplane in the center. "i'm right!" exclaimed tim jubilantly, "i'm right!" "you sure are," agreed giddings. "i'm going to have a look at this contraption." the monoplane was the strangest plane either of them had ever seen. they pinched themselves to make sure that they were not dreaming for it was such a bizarre looking craft. "old man bauer will have a fit when he hears about this," chuckled giddings, "for he has always had a pet theory that this type of machine would never fly. said you couldn't get enough power into the wing propellers." "i'd like to try it," said tim as they started a quick inspection of the monoplane. the machine had been camouflaged by an expert. on the ground it would have been invisible from the air while in the air it would be practically invisible from the ground, so cleverly had the colors been mixed and camouflage been applied. but the feature of the monoplane which drew their attention was the wing propellers. at the outer tip of each wing were mounted horizontal propellers, each about four feet in diameter. small, powerful air cooled motors supplied the power for the wing propellers while a standard whirlwind was the motive power for the main propeller in the nose of the ship. "talk about autogyros," exclaimed tim. "why this thing could take off and land in a flower bed. i'll bet those wing propellers can pull it almost straight up." "that's the theory," said giddings, "and from the robberies that this gang you're after has been getting away with successfully it looks to me like they've been using one of these machines, probably the first one this outfit ever turned out." "when i first saw those parallel tracks after the attempt to rob the midnight mail i figured they must be using some kind of a machine like this," said tim, "but i knew it would have to be more efficient than anything sold on the commercial market." "let's get out of here before dark," said giddings. "we've got a long trip back to the city and we can discuss plans on our way back." tim agreed and they made their way out of the hangar and back to the car without detection. on the trip to new york tim discussed plans for the capture of shanghai sam and pierre petard with the young aircraft designer. "i've got something i've been fooling with for a long time," said giddings. "it's a sort of radio detector designed for use in time of war. when it is fitted into a plane you can ascertain whether any other ships are in the air and by adjustment of the detector tell how far away they are." "just the thing i'll need," said tim enthusiastically. "is there any chance that you'll lend it to me for a few days?" "that's why i mentioned it," said giddings. "the device needs a thorough testing and once i've proved its value i'll have no trouble in selling my patents. we'll both profit by your using it." when they reached the city giddings drove to his apartment, which contained living quarters and a room which he had fitted up as an electrical laboratory. far into the night they worked in the laboratory, giddings explaining the use of his radio detector and tim working with it to be sure that he could handle it to the best advantage. when the flying reporter left giddings' apartment he was burdened with the radio detector, which, although placed in a compact cabinet, was heavy. "i'm going to report this outfit over in the jersey woods," said giddings, "and it won't take uncle sam long to put a damper on their activities. there will be no objection to their manufacture of their plane for commercial use but to make them especially for aerial bandits is a proposition that uncle sam won't stand for." "i'm glad you'll take care of that," said tim. "they really have a wonderful plane and it's a shame that a crooked outfit has gotten hold of it. undoubtedly money which the sky hawk obtained when he was at the peak of his career is behind them." "which will be just one more reason why uncle sam will be glad to shut them up," said giddings. "by tomorrow afternoon the woods will be full of federal men for a surprise raid. be sure and let me know how you come out and send the radio detector back as soon as you're through." "i'll do that," promised tim, "and thanks so much for all you've done for me." when the flying reporter reached his hotel, he found a telegram. "we've been trying to find you since late afternoon," said the clerk who handed him the message. "it was marked important." tim tore open the yellow envelope and read the brief message. his senses reeled as the import of the telegram flashed through his mind. ralph had been kidnapped! chapter sixteen the message, from the managing editor of the _news_, was brief and to the point. "ralph kidnapped this afternoon. come home." the shocking news paralyzed tim's brain and he leaned helplessly against the clerk's desk, his face drained of all color. "are you ill?" asked the clerk. "no, i'll be all right in a minute," tim managed to say. "just some surprising news from my managing editor." the flying reporter went to a nearby lounge and sat down. ralph kidnapped. it must be impossible; it was impossible, he told himself. yet there was the telegram from carson--so simple and yet so startling. "ralph kidnapped this afternoon. come home." they needed him in atkinson and tim pulled himself together and went to the desk to inquire about the air passenger service west. "you can get a plane at seven in the morning," said the clerk. "by changing at dearborn you'll land at atkinson at five in the afternoon." "telephone my reservation," said tim and he turned to hasten to his room. he partially undressed and threw himself on the bed, still dazed from the shock of the telegram. what could ralph have been doing; what had he run into that had resulted in his kidnapping? who would want to kidnap him and how had they done it? these and a dozen other questions raced through tim's tired mind. finally, in complete physical and mental exhaustion, he dropped into a sound sleep. afternoon of the following day found tim disembarking from the mail and passenger plane at his home airport. carson and the field manager were waiting to greet him. "what's this about ralph being kidnapped?" demanded tim, to whom the hundred and ten mile an hour schedule of the passenger plane had seemed slow as they winged their way westward from new york. "there isn't a whole lot to tell," said the managing editor. "the day after you left ralph took one of the cars and headed for cedar river valley. said he had a hunch that the bandits had a hideout there and that he might improve his time while you were away by making a sort of a lone search for them. he was still boiling mad over their stealing the _good news_ and cracking it up." "i feel that way myself," said tim. "go on." "ralph never got to the valley," said carson. "in fact, he didn't get more than fifty miles from atkinson. the first we knew he was in trouble was a report late in the afternoon of one of our cars being found abandoned on a road east of here and on the way to the valley i knew it was the machine ralph had taken and personally headed the investigation." "what did you find?" asked tim breathlessly. "signs of a hard scrap," said the managing editor. "ralph must have stumbled on sam and pierre or they might have been trailing him. it was along a lonely road with lots of underbrush nearby." "anything to show that ralph was hurt?" "there were several bullet marks in the body of the car but there was no sign of blood," said the managing editor. "find anything else?" "some peculiar marks in a clearing nearby. they were similar to those you reported at railroad fire and bank robbery." "i was sure those marks would be there," mused tim. "well, one thing sure," he added, "sam and pierre are about at the end of their string. i know what they've been using to make their escapes and have the means of detecting them the next time they come into the open." tim told carson and hunter of his visit to the aircraft company in new york and how the chief designer and mac giddings had helped him, of the discovery of the secret airplane factory in the jersey woods and of the marvelous plane that they had developed. then he explained the radio detector which mac giddings had perfected and his plan for catching shanghai sam and his companion. "it sounds o. k.," said the managing editor enthusiastically. "i've got a plane here at the field you can equip," volunteered the field manager. "i'll have the mechanics start getting it in shape." throughout the night tim remained at the airport, supervising the installation of the radio detector in the fast biplane which hunter provided for his use. by dawn the plane was ready to go. "what are you going to do now?" asked the managing editor. "start a steady patrol of the cedar river valley," said tim. "when i get tired hunter has agreed to relieve me. we'll both ride the plane and only come down when we need gas and oil." "won't they get suspicious of what you're up to?" asked the managing editor. "i doubt it," said tim. "we'll be up ten to twelve thousand feet all the time and with the muffler carson has fitted on the exhaust they won't be able to see or hear us on the ground." "and will the radio detector work at that height?" "giddings said it was good up to twenty thousand feet," replied tim. "at least it is the best we have and if it does work we'll soon put an end to these marauders." an hour later the silver-gray biplane which they had equipped was cruising over the cedar river valley. the altimeter showed , feet and tim throttled down the engine as he started the patrol of the valley. hunter, in the forward cockpit, had a headset on and was listening for some sound in the radio detector. through the hours of the morning they maintained their vigil and at noon flew halfway back to atkinson to land at an air mail emergency field and refill their gasoline tanks. "i'll take the controls this afternoon," said hunter, and tim agreed to the suggestion. when they were near the valley again tim set the radio detector going. there was a low, steady hum in the earphones for the noise of their own motor was cut out of the set's pickup. at two o'clock a sound came through the earphones that electrified tim. hunter, in the rear cockpit, could see tim's body tense as the flying reporter bent over the detector and adjusted the dials for more delicate tuning. somewhere below them the motor of a powerful plane was being warmed up! the roaring in the earphones was strong; then weak, as their own biplane swung away from the source of the sound. by following the path of the strongest sound they would be able to find their quarry and hunter watched tim's hand carefully for directions on how to pilot the plane. when they reached the center of a dense forest along the right bank of the cedar the roaring was loud and steady. they were still up eight thousand feet and too high to see what was going on below. tim took a pair of field glasses out of a case and leaned over the side of the ship while hunter banked the biplane in easy circles. the powerful lenses made the ground leap toward them and tim could see every object clearly. he gasped as his glasses focused on a clearing in one of the densest parts of the forest. he was looking down on an exact replica of the plane he had seen in the makeshift hangar in the jersey woods only two days before. the upper wings, as he had expected, were carefully painted so that detection from the sky was almost impossible. under normal conditions tim and hunter could have flown low over the clearing without seeing the plane but thanks to the radio detector they had been able to spot it with little trouble. hunter shut off the motor and leaned toward tim. "what are they doing?" he cried. "getting ready to take off," shouted tim. "they're climbing into the plane. here they come!" "see anything of ralph?" "no, but there's a small shack on one side of the clearing and he is probably in there. we'll take care of these chaps first and then drop down and see where they've hidden ralph." hunter snapped on the switch and the motor roared into action again. tim kept his glasses trained on the plane below. the wing motors had been started and the ship, after a run of thirty or forty feet, was rising almost vertically. it was a beautiful take-off and tim knew that the master hand of pierre petard was at the controls. "we'll let them get out of the forest country," tim shouted at hunter. "if we swoop down on them now we'll have them sneaking into some small clearing where we can't follow." "right," cried hunter as he swung his biplane westward and took up the pursuit. for half an hour the strange game of hunted and hunter continued with tim and hunter keeping five to six thousand feet above the other ship. when they were finally over open country tim motioned for hunter to give his plane the gun and the field manager, anxious for action, opened the throttle and sent his ship thundering downward. tim opened a black leather case in the forward cockpit and swung a sub-machine gun over the side of the plane. they had come prepared for any emergency for both of them realized that the men they sought would stop at nothing to make their escape. the biplane shrieked down on its unsuspecting quarry, flashing out of the heavens like an avenging eagle. intuition must have caused pierre petard to glance over his shoulder just in time to see hunter preparing for the final swoop. they saw pierre reach quickly and tap sam on the shoulder. instantly the man in the forward cockpit turned and in another second a light machine gun, similar to the one tim held, belched a stream of bullets at them. sam's aim was good and the bullets traced a wicked line along one wing, coming ever closer to the fuselage. but it was for only a second. hunter was a master of the air and he sent his plane into a screaming dive that ended only when he was under the other plane and in a position for tim to pour a hail of bullets into the fuselage of the ship above them. the bandit plane veered sharply and for a second tim had a clear shot at the propeller. the bullets from the machine gun shattered the whirling blade and the air was full of bits of wood. hunter pulled his own ship into the clear and they watched anxiously while pierre attempted to bring his damaged plane to a safe landing. it fluttered down like a crippled bird, turning this way and that, now limping along for a few feet and then abruptly dropping away until it seemed inevitable that it should end in a deadly tailspin. "they'll make it all right," cried tim. "they're heading for that big pasture," and he pointed to a large field. hunter gave the biplane full throttle and sped earthward at a daredevil pace. they must beat the bandit ship down. the field manager sideslipped into the pasture and set his plane down hard. tim leaped from the cockpit, his machine gun freshly loaded and ready for action. hunter, a repeating rifle in hand, joined him. the bandit plane was staggering down toward the field. it barely cleared the fence and bounced toward them. "get back of this ridge," tim warned hunter. "they may try to shoot it out and we'd make good targets out here in the open." hunter agreed and they sought shelter behind a low ridge along the edge of the field. the bandit plane rolled on and on. they could see pierre working desperately at the controls. "the wing motors," cried tim. "he's trying to start them. if he does they'll get away from us." "keep down," warned hunter, "i think the burst of bullets you put into their ship disabled the controls to the wing motors or he'd have used them before he landed." the bandit plane finally rolled to a stop less than two hundred feet away. "come out with your hands up!" ordered tim. the answer was a flicker of flame from the forward cockpit, the staccato of a machine gun and the thud of bullets into the dirt which protected them. tim answered instantly, his machine gun tracing a steady, deadly line along the fuselage. hunter pumped shell after shell into his repeating rifle. the firing from the plane ceased abruptly. "we'll come out," cried a weak voice and pierre petard stood up in his cockpit. tim and hunter moved forward cautiously, fearing a ruse, but they found that shanghai sam had been wounded in the shoulder in the last exchange of shots and pierre, knowing that the end of his career was near, was white and shaken. "where is the reporter you kidnapped?" demanded tim. "back in the clearing where we made our headquarters," replied pierre. "we didn't harm him," he added as though fearing tim might manhandle him. "if he is," promised the flying reporter, "i'll give you something to remember me by." shanghai sam refused to talk and hunter went to the nearest highway where he stopped a motorist. within an hour captain raymond and a detail of state police were on the scene, ready to take charge of the prisoners. tim, relieved of the responsibility of capturing the sky pirates, hastened to a farmhouse where he telephoned the story to the _news_. carson, the managing editor, was jubilant. "but how about ralph?" he asked. "state police are on their way to get him now," said tim. "the whole case will be cleaned up in another hour or two." "splendid," exclaimed the managing editor. "we're going on the street with an extra now with the _news_ taking full credit for the capture of those fellows." early that evening tim and ralph were reunited in the _news_ office. they had much to tell and they had an interested audience in their managing editor, the field manager and the members of the _news_ staff. ralph told how he had been on his way to the cedar river valley when he had seen the bandits bring their plane down in a small clearing near the highway. ralph had left his car to make a closer inspection but had been discovered by pierre and sam. he had fled to his car but had been captured before he could make his escape. he had been forced into the bandit plane and taken to their hiding place in the wilderness of timber and underbrush in the river valley. "they took good care of me," grinned ralph, "but i realized that when they completed their series of daring robberies they would probably leave me tied up in the shack, which wasn't such a pleasant prospect. the money they had obtained in their robberies was all in the shack and believe me i was sure happy when the state police arrived." from new york came a telegram from mac giddings congratulating tim on the use of the radio detector and adding that federal agents had raided the hidden factory in the jersey woods, seizing all men and equipment. giddings added that his own company was making arrangements to take over the plans and manufacture the new plane on a commercial basis. "at least some good will come from this whole affair" said tim. "the plane was truly a marvel. it's too bad that it had to have its first test in this fashion." captain raymond made his way into the room. a stranger was with him but tim recognized the man as the chief executive of the state, gov. ned turner. captain raymond introduced tim and ralph to the governor. "when captain raymond told me all of the fine things you two have done in capturing these sky pirates i wanted to tell you in person how much this means to the state. it is a real privilege to commission you as honorary life members of the state police." when tim and ralph were finally alone with their managing editor, they confessed their extreme fatigue. "what you need is a good rest," said carson. "you'll get the $ , reward the railroad offered, the banks should pay you handsomely and the paper is going to give each of you a bonus of a month's pay. you'd better take a vacation and spend a little of that money." "sounds good to me," said tim. "what do you say to accepting the invitation hank cummins extended to visit at the circle four ranch for a month?" "make it unanimous," smiled ralph. "then you can plan on leaving the first part of the week," said the managing editor. "in the meantime we'll see about buying a plane to replace the _good news_ for i know neither of you will be happy until then." proofreading team at http://www.fadedpage.net the girl aviators and the phantom airship by margaret burnham m. a. donohue & company chicago--new york made in u.s.a. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ the girl aviators and the phantom airship chapter i. the golden butterfly. "roy! roy! where are you?" peggy prescott came flying down the red-brick path, a rustling newspaper clutched in her hand. "here i am, sis,--what's up?" the door of a long, low shed at the farther end of the old-fashioned garden opened as a clattering sound of hammering abruptly ceased. roy prescott, a wavy-haired, blue-eyed lad of seventeen, or thereabouts, stood in the portal. he looked very business-like in his khaki trousers, blue shirt and rolled up sleeves. in his hand was a shiny hammer. peggy, quite regardless of a big, black smudge on her brother's face, threw her arms around his neck in one of her "bear hugs," while roy, boy-like, wriggled in her clasp as best he could. "now, just look here," cried peggy, quite out of breath with her own vehemence. she flourished the paper under his nose and, imitating the traditional voice of a town crier, announced: "hear ye! hear ye! hear ye! roy prescott or any of the ambitious aviators--now is your chance! great news from the front! third and last call!" "you've got auctioneering, the supreme court and war times, mixed up a bit, haven't you?" asked roy with masculine condescension, but gazing fondly at his vivacious sister nevertheless. peggy made a little face and then thrust forth the paper for his examination. "read that, you unenthusiastic person," she demanded, "and then tell me if you don't think that miss margaret prescott has good reason to feel somewhat more enthusiastic than comports with her usual dignity and well-known icy reserve--ahem!" "good gracious, sis!" exclaimed the boy, as he scanned the news-sheet, "why this is just what we were wishing for, isn't it? it's our chance if we can only grasp it and make good." "we can! we will!" exclaimed peggy, striking an attitude and holding one hand above her glossy head. "read it out, roy, so that monsieur bleriot can hear it." m. bleriot, a french bull-dog, who had dignifiedly followed peggy's mad career down the path, gazed up appreciatively, as roy read out: "big chance for sky boys! "ironmaster higgins of acatonick offers ten thousand dollars in prizes for flights and planes." "ten thousand dollars, just think!" cried peggy, clasping her hands one minute and the next stooping to caress m. bleriot. "oh, roy! do you think we could?" "could what? you indefinite person?" parried roy, although his eyes were dancing and he knew well enough what his vivacious sister was driving at. "could win that ten thousand dollars, of course, you goose." roy laughed. "it's not all offered in a lump sum," he rejoined. "listen; there is a first prize of five thousand dollars for the boy under eighteen who makes the longest sustained flight in a plane of his own construction--with the exception of the engine, that is; and here's another of two thousand five hundred dollars to the glider making the best and longest sustained flight, and another of one thousand five hundred to the boy flying the most carefully constructed machine and the one bearing the most ingenious devices for perfecting the art of flying and--and--oh listen, peggy!" "i am--oh, i am!" breathed peggy with half assumed breathlessness. "there's a prize offered for girls!" "no!" "yes. now don't say any more that girls are downtrodden and neglected by the bright minds of the day. here it is, all in black and white, a prize of a whole thousand to the young lady who makes a successful flight. there, what do you think of that?" "that mr. higgins is a mean old thing," pouted peggy, "five thousand dollars to the successful boy and only one thousand to the successful girl. it's discrimination, that's what it is. don't you read every day in the papers about girls and women making almost as good flights as the men? didn't a--a mademoiselle somebody-or-other make a flight round the bell tower at bruges the other day, and hasn't col. roosevelt's daughter been up in one, and isn't there a regular school for women fliers at washington, and--and----?" "didn't the suffragettes promise to drop 'votes for women' placards from the air upon the devoted heads of the british parliament, you up to date young person?" finished roy, teasingly. peggy made a dash for him but the boy dodged into the shed, closely followed by his sister. but as she crossed the threshold peggy's wild swoop became a decorous stroll, so to speak. she paused, all out of breath, beneath a spreading expanse of yellow balloon silk, braced and strengthened with brightly gleaming wires and stays,--one wing of the big monoplane upon which her brother had spent all his spare time for the past year. the flying thing was almost completed now. it stood in its shed, with its scarab-like wings outspread like a newly alighted yellow butterfly, which, by a stroke of ill luck, had found itself installed in a gloomy cage instead of the bright, open spaces of its native element. in one corner of the shed was a large crate surrounded by some smaller ones. the large one had been partially opened and peggy gave a little squeal of delight as her eyes fell on it. "oh, roy, that's it?" "that's it," rejoined the boy proudly, lifting a bit of sacking from the contents of the opened crate, "isn't it a beauty?" the lifted covering had exposed a gleam of bright, scarlet enamel, and the glint of polished brass. to roy the contents of that crate was the splendid new motor for his aeroplane. but to peggy, just then, it was something far different. a bit of a mist dimmed her shining eyes for an instant. her voice grew very sober. "three thousand dollars--oh, roy, it scares me!" roy crossed the shed and threw an arm about his sister's neck. "don't be frightened, sis," he breathed in an assuring tone, "it's going to be all right. why, can't you see that the very first thing that happens is a chance to win $ , ?" "i know that. but that contest is not to come off for more than a month and--and supposing someone should have a better machine than you?" for an instant that air of absolute assurance, which truth to tell, had made roy some enemies, and which was his greatest fault, left him. his face clouded and he looked troubled. but it was as momentary as the cloud-shadow that passes over a summer wheat field. "it'll be all right, sis," he rejoined, confidently, "and if it isn't, i can always sell out to simon harding. you know he said that his offer held good at any time." "i know that, roy," rejoined peggy, seriously, "but we could never do that. we could neither of us go against father's wishes like that. he--well, roy, it's not to be thought of. poor dad----" her bright eyes filled with tears as her mind travelled back to a scene of a year before when mr. prescott had ceased from troubling with the affairs of this world, and commended his children to the care of their maiden aunt--his sister with whom, since their mother's death some years before, the little family had made their home. poor mr. prescott had been that hopelessly impracticable creature--an inventor. fortunately for himself, however, he had a small fortune of his own so that he had been enabled to carry on his dreaming and planning without embarrassing his family. roy and peggy had both been sent to good boarding schools, and had known, in fact, very little of home life after their mother's death which had occurred several years before, as already said. mr. prescott, in his dreamy, abstract way, had cared dearly for his children. but those other children of his--the offsprings of his brain--that surrounded him in his workshop, had, somehow, seemed always to mean more to him. and so the young prescotts had grown up without the benefit of home influences. on peggy's naturally sweet, vivacious character, this had not made so much difference. but roy had developed, in spite of his real sterling worth and ability, into a headstrong, rather self-opinionated lad. his success at school in athletics and the studies which he cared about "mugging" at had not tended to decrease these qualities. it had come as a shock to both of them a year before when two telegrams had been despatched--one to peggy's school up the hudson, and the other to roy up in connecticut, telling them to return to the long island village of sandy bay at once. their father--that half-shadowy being--was very ill. the messages had not exaggerated the seriousness of the situation. three days after his children reached his side mr. prescott gently breathed his last, dying, as he had lived, so quietly, that the end had come before they realized it. but in those last brief moments roy came to know his father better than ever before. he learned that the dream of his parent had been to produce an aeroplane free from the defects of its forerunners,--a safe vehicle for passengers or freight. how far he had progressed in this there was no time for him to tell before the end came. but roy, interested already in aeronautics at school, where he had been president of "the high fliers"--a model aeroplane association,--eagerly took up his father's desire that he would try to carry on his work, and began to take lessons in flying. in the shed which had been mr. prescott's workshop the framework of an aeroplane already stood. and with the aid of what money his father had left him, roy had carried on the work till now it was almost completed. but the three thousand dollars which had gone for the motor had completely exhausted the lad's legacy. as peggy put it, all their eggs were in an "aerial basket." but how much peggy had aided him, in what had, in the last few months possessed all his thoughts, roy did not guess. to what extent her encouragement had spurred him on to surmount seemingly unconquerable difficulties, and how she had actually aided him in constructing the machine, his ambition never realized. not innately selfish, roy was yet too used to having his own way to attribute his success to any one but himself. sometimes, brave, loyal little peggy, try as she might, could not disguise this from herself, and it pained her a good deal. but she had uncomplainingly, ungrudgingly, aided her brother, without hoping for, or expecting, the appreciation she sometimes felt she was really entitled to. but her great love for her brother kept peggy from ever betraying to him or any one else an iota of her inner feelings. so intent had the brother and sister been on their talk that neither of them had noticed, while they conversed, that a big four-door touring car, aglitter with gleaming maroon paint, and with a long, low hood concealing a powerful engine, had glided up to the white gate in the picket fence surrounding miss prescott's old fashioned cottage. from it a frank, pleasant-faced lad and an unusually striking girl, tall, slender and with a glossy mass of black hair coiled attractively on her shapely head, had alighted. hearing the sound of voices from the open door of the shed in which the golden butterfly, as peggy had christened it, was nearing completion, they, without ceremony, at once made their way toward it. peggy, glancing up from her sad reverie at the sound of footsteps, gave a glad little cry as she beheld the visitors standing framed in the sunlight of the open door. while she and the tall, dark-haired girl mingled their contrasting tresses in an exuberant school-girl caress, the lad and roy prescott, were, boy fashion, slapping one another on the back and shaking hands with just as much enthusiasm. "why, if this isn't simply delightful, jess, you dear old thing," cried the delighted peggy, as, with both hands on her chum's shoulders, she held jess bancroft off at arm's length, the better to scrutinize her handsome face, "and jimsy, too," as she turned to the lad with a bright smile of welcome; "wherever did you two come from?" "from the clouds?" demanded roy. "no, hardly, although i don't wonder at your asking such a question," laughed jess, merrily, exchanging greetings with roy. "roy prescott, positively i can see your wings sprouting." they all laughed heartily at this, while jess ran on to explain that she and her brother were stopping for the summer at seaview towers, a summer estate which their father, a wall street power, had leased for the season. of course, explained the merry girl, who had been peggy's closest chum at school, her first thought had been to take a spin over in her new motor car and look up her friends, for roy and james--or jimsy--bancroft had been almost as close chums as the girls. "and so this is the wonderful golden butterfly that you wrote to me about?" exclaimed jess enthusiastically after the first buzz of conversation subsided. "yes, this is it," said roy with great satisfaction in his tones, "and i'm proud of it, i can tell you. i think i've made a success of it." jess and jimsy exchanged glances. and then jess stole a look at peggy, but no cloud had crossed the face of roy's sister. "oh, you darling," thought jess, "you're too sweet for anything. i just know how much you contributed to the golden butterfly's existence, and yet you won't detract a bit from roy's self satisfaction." as for jimsy bancroft, he said nothing. he glanced rather oddly at roy for an instant. then his eyes turned to peggy's face. perhaps they dwelt there for rather a long period of time. at any rate, they were still fixed on her brave beauty when a sudden shadow fell across the stream of sunlight that poured into the open portal of the workshop. "ah! so this is the place in which young genius finds its habitation;" grated out a rather harsh, unpleasant voice. they all looked up. perhaps none of them--jimsy least of all--was pleased at the interruption. the newcomer was a tall, angular man, with a withered, clean-shaven face,--what peggy called a "money making face"; and surely that described simon harding, as he stood there in his black, none-too-new garments, and his square-toed shoes. one could fairly catch the avaricious glint in his eyes as he squinted rapidly over the new aeroplane's outlines. by his side stood a youth who was, so far as dress went at any rate, the exact opposite of the elder man. fanning harding--or fan as he was usually called--was dressed in elaborate motoring costume. his goggles, of the latest and most exaggerated design, were shoved up off his countenance now, exposing to view a good-looking browned face. it was marred, however, by the same restless, strained look that could be seen on his father's visage. "we're not intruding, i hope," he hastened to say, coming forward with a cordiality that seemed somewhat forced. "not in the least," said peggy, hastily, realizing that none of them had perhaps looked very cordial, "won't you come in?" fan harding, bestowing an admiring glance on her, seemed to be about to accept. his father, however, struck in: "i'll leave you with the young folks, my boy, while i go up to the house. i have some business with miss prescott." as he shuffled off, peggy and roy exchanged somewhat uneasy glances. what business could this old man--in some respects a power financially and otherwise in sandy beach--have with their aunt? "say peggy," spoke up fan harding, suddenly, "ain't you going to introduce me to your friends? and how about inviting us all to have some of those strawberries pop and i noticed as we came down the path?" "well, he isn't a bit backward about coming forward!" thought jess as the young people, with due formality, went through the ceremony of introductions. chapter ii. suspense and achievement. it was a week after fan harding's visit to the prescott home, on one windless, steamy morning, when the pearl-gray mist still lay in the smooth hollows running back from the coast, that the golden butterfly was wheeled out of her cocoon--so to speak--and dragged up the hillside at the back of the white, green-shuttered cottage. miss prescott, a sweet-faced old lady, whose cheek was still blooming despite the passage of the years, stood on the back porch of the house watching the process. if miss prescott's face had been somewhat less cheerful than usual since her talk with mr. harding, all the clouds had been chased from it now. she watched as eagerly as a girl while roy and peggy, aided by jess and jimsy and two other lads, friends of roy's from the village, dragged the brand new aeroplane up the hillside. the excited chatter and laughter of the young folks rang out merrily as they worked--for it was work to get the 'plane, light as it was, up the grade. fortunately--for roy had no desire of a crowd to witness his initial ascent in the new 'plane--the prescott house was some distance out of the village, and there were no near neighbors. the place had, in fact, once been a farm house, and although the acreage still was in the possession of miss prescott it was not worked. a more ideal place for flying could not be imagined. smooth slopes--unwooded, except in clumps--were all about. to the north glimmered the sparkling waters of long island sound, while to the south stretched fertile farming land, devoted to crop-raising and pasturage. very business-like the young people looked as they hauled the monoplane up the hill. roy and jimsy wore leather puttees, trousers fashioned somewhat like riding breeches, and leather coats. on their heads were caps of the latter material, well padded within and provided with visors pierced with goggles. the girls wore shirt waists, outing skirts and "sensible" walking boots. jess had on her "shaker" motoring bonnet, in which she looked very captivating indeed. peggy's glossy hair, unadorned, but tightly confined in a net, formed her hair covering. both girls were all a-tiptoe with excitement, for although roy had had experience with aeroplanes, and so, in a limited way, had jimsy, this feature of the sport was new to them. at last the summit was reached, and roy, after calling a halt, took a brief but comprehensive survey of the golden butterfly. this done, he climbed into the chassis--or body--of the thing, and leaning over the machinery he rapidly tested all the adjustments and examined the lubricating devices to see that all was in order. everything appeared to be. "well," said roy, with some self complacency, stepping out of the machine, "everything seems to be ready for the initial flight of the golden butterfly, my lords and gentlemen." "and ladies, if you please," put in jess, in a voice that was vibrant with excitement, despite her endeavor to keep calm. "and ladies," added roy, with a gallant bow in her direction. peggy in the meantime, like an anxious little mother fussing over dolls, had been examining the aeroplane once more. suddenly she gave a little cry. the exclamation interrupted roy who was explaining, with great satisfaction, that everything was all right. "i've looked it over and if there had been anything wrong it couldn't have escaped my notice," he observed rather pompously. "oh, roy! just look here! the spring of this landing wheel is all slack!" this was the exclamation from peggy that brought up roy somewhat shortly in the midst of his self-confident harangue. "by george, so it is, sis!" exclaimed roy, reddening a little, while lem sidney, one of his chums, observed with a chuckle to jeff stokes, that peggy appeared to know as much, if not more, about the machine than did roy. the spring was soon tightened by means of a monkey wrench. but that did not prevent them all realizing that had it not been for peggy's acute observation a serious accident might have occurred. this done, even peggy's anxious glances could not detect any other flaw in the machine. "what time did that aviator fellow say he would show up?" then demanded jimsy, abruptly. "he should be here now," rejoined roy. "i've half a mind to start anyhow. i can manage the machine i am very certain." "oh, roy!" cried peggy, reprovingly, "you know you promised aunty that you wouldn't do anything till mr. hal homer got here." "all right, sis," put in roy, hastily, "don't be scared. i'll stick to my word." "hullo!" cried jimsy, suddenly, "there comes an auto now." "so it is," exclaimed the others, as a black touring car came whizzing down the road below them. it soon halted, and a figure in leather garments with gaitered legs alighted and hastened across the fields toward the party clustered about the aeroplane. the car was left in charge of the chauffeur. as jimsy had guessed, the new arrival proved to be hal homer, the well-known cross country flier, from whom roy had taken some vacation time aviation lessons. "he's awfully good looking," whispered jess to peggy, after introductions to the dapper young aviator had been extended by roy. "oh, so--so," rejoined peggy, with a toss of her head. "maybe you know some one who is handsomer?" questioned jess with a mischievous side glance of her fine eyes. peggy flushed under her fair skin. but jess laughed with good-humored raillery. "jimsy surely is a good-looking boy," she said, "if he hadn't a pug nose." "a pug nose!" flared up peggy. "oh, jess, how can----" then she stopped short in confusion while jess laughed the more at her discomfiture. young mr. homer lost no time in starting operations. he ordered his helpers to secure the machine to a small tree growing nearby by means of a stout rope roy had brought with him. this done, and the monoplane thus secured from flying away when her engine was started, he set the sparking and gasolene levers and threw in the switch. roy and jimsy, the latter acting under roy's instructions, flew to the propeller. the golden butterfly being a monoplane, this was in front of the machine. "be careful when you feel it start, to leap aside," warned roy, "or you might be beheaded." "i never lose my head in an emergency," joked jimsy. but just the same his heart beat, as did those of all of them but hal homer's, as he and roy started to swing the great shiny wooden driving appliance. once, twice, three times they swung it round, exerting all their force. the fourth time they were rewarded by a feeble sigh from the engine--a sixty horse power motor. all at once--bang! "let go!" yelled roy, jumping backward. jimsy in his hurry to obey stumbled and fell backward in a heap. he rolled some distance down the hill unnoticed, before he succeeded in stopping his motion. in the meantime the others--even peggy--were too absorbed in the sight before them to watch jimsy. simultaneously with the sharp report the propeller had whirled around swiftly. the next instant it was a mere gray blur, while a furious wind from its revolving blades swept the onlookers. blue smoke spurted from the exhausts, mingled with flame, and the uproar was terrific. the golden butterfly, like a thing of life, struggled at her moorings. the rope stretched and strained, taut as a violin string, under the pull. but it held fast, and after a while aviator homer slowed down the engine and finally stopped it, after adjusting a miss-fire in one of the cylinders. as the propeller became once more visible and then came to a stop, the boys broke into cheers, while the girls, too, voiced their enthusiasm. "oh, peggy, isn't it a darling!" cried jess. "aeroplanes are not usually called 'darlings,'" responded peggy with assumed severity, "but--oh, jess, it's--it's--a jewel and----" "i'm dying for a ride in it!" burst in jess. "then if you will consent to live a little longer i hope to have the pleasure of saving your life," put in roy, gallantly. "oh, roy! i can ride in it now!" gasped jess, while peggy clasped her hands and snuggled up close to her chum. "well, no, hardly just yet," laughed roy, "but after homer has tested her thoroughly out i guess you girls can take a spin." "you know i'm going to learn to handle one," declared peggy, as roy made off once more. "i know a good deal about the theoretical part of it already." "well, theory wouldn't do you much good in a mile-long tumble," quoth jess, sagely. "nonsense," rejoined peggy. "mr. homer says one is as safe in an aeroplane, if one is careful, as in an auto." "safer i guess, the way that brother of mine drives sometimes," replied jess. "he calls it 'burning up the road.' but--oh, look, they're casting off, or whatever it is you do to an airship when you turn her loose. oh!" snatching off her motoring bonnet jess began waving it furiously. while they had been talking the rope had been cast loose, and now, with mr. homer himself at the driving wheel, in cap and goggles, the engine was being started once more. in wrapt excitement both girls stood breathless. so intent were they on the scene transpiring before them that they had not noticed the approach of a second auto on the road below. from it fan harding had alighted and hastened up the hill, after "parking" his machine, as if in fear that he would be too late to view the proceedings. a sneering look was on his rather handsome face as he rapidly climbed the hill. he reached a position behind the two girls just as the aviator gave the signal to let go of the machine--to the rear structure of which lem sidney and jeff stokes were perspiringly clinging, their heels digging into the soft turf to steady themselves. as mr. homer's hand swung backward and downward they let go. instantly, like an arrow from a bow, the monoplane--the work of peggy and roy--was off. how it scudded across the hill top! blue smoke and flame shot from its exhaust. its operator sat hunched over his machinery looking, with his goggles, like some creature of the lower regions. peggy clasped her hands and stood a-tiptoe breathlessly as it scudded along. "oh, will it rise?" she breathed, her color coming and going in her excitement. "i'll bet ten dollars it won't fly any more than an earthworm." peggy turned swiftly, indignantly. her color flamed and her eyes blazed angrily. jess, hardly less indignant at the sneering tone and words, also faced about. "good morning, girls," said fan harding, easily, raising his motoring cap nonchalantly, "i came to see the ascension, but i'm afraid that it's going to be a descension." "i think you're hateful to talk like that," cried peggy, angrily, stamping her foot. "our aeroplane will rise. it just will, i tell you--oh, gracious!" she broke off in confusion and stood aghast for a moment. the swiftly scudding aeroplane had stopped its skittering over the grass and had come to an abrupt stop at a distance of about five hundred yards. already the boys were running across the turf toward it at top speed. the girls could see mr. homer clambering out of the chassis as the machine came to a standstill. "ha! ha! just as i thought," chuckled fan harding, viciously, "that thing is a dead failure." poor peggy, tears in her eyes at this seeming disaster, was stung fairly out of herself. she switched round on fan harding with a suddenness that made her skirt fly out and that young gentleman step precipitately backward. "it isn't a failure, fan harding," she cried, with blazing eyes. "how dare you come here to sneer at us. we didn't invite you. oh, i could----" but jess had seized her arm and succeeded in checking peggy just in time. she whispered something to the indignant girl, who, with a scornful look at fan harding, turned and, with her friend, ran lightly off toward the stranded aeroplane. "by jove, i really thought for a minute she was going to slap my face," chuckled fan harding to himself. "how pretty she is when she is angry. but i guess if she knew what i do about certain affairs she wouldn't be quite so fresh with me." he cast a glance at the aeroplane around which the anxious young people were now clustering thickly. "if that thing is a success," he mused, as he strode off to join them, "so much the better for me. i think i could use an aeroplane. i don't see why i should let roy prescott beat me out at anything. ah! they've started the engine again and--by ginger, she's rising! she's going up! she's flying!" the small irregularity in the working of the engine, which had brought the plane to a stop, had been quickly remedied. even fan harding, little as he liked roy, could not help but join in the cheers as the golden butterfly, swinging in an easy circle, began to climb--higher and higher toward the fleecy clouds that flecked the blue dome above. as for peggy, she jumped up and down in her enthusiasm till her golden hair was tumbling in a tangle about her pink shells of ears. "oh, goody! goody! goody!" she squealed in the intensity of her joy. chapter iii. the clouds gather. "and so unless we can raise that money somehow within a short time we shall have to leave dear old shadyside!" it was roy who spoke, in troubled tones, some days after the successful flight of the golden butterfly. they were seated in the cool-looking living room of miss prescott's home. the sun filtering in through the venetian blinds, fell in patches on the polished floors--peggy's work, for miss prescott's circumstances had been for some time too straitened to afford the servants she formerly had. but she had kept all knowledge of her struggle from her nephew and niece, until now the time had arrived when she felt that she could conceal no longer the object of old sam harding's visit to her. the old man, among other things, was president of the sandy bay bank. this bank, although the children did not know it, had long held a mortgage on miss prescott's property. the kindly, sweet-souled lady had incurred the debt to forward her brother's dreams. for poor mr. prescott had always been "just on the verge of making a fortune." mr. harding's errand was to state that the interest being long overdue and there being no immediate prospect of settlement the bank would have to foreclose. the real reason for this anxiety, which of course miss prescott, simple-minded lady, could not know, was, that a real estate concern wanted to purchase the property to erect a summer colony. "but what of my securities in----and----and----?" inquired poor miss prescott, who really knew no more of business than peggy's french bull-dog. "in the depressed state of the market that class of securities are worth nothing, madam," was the response, "in addition, though i have refrained from telling you so till now, your account at the bank is much overdrawn. however," he had continued, "to show you that we mean to be fair with you we will say nothing about that, but unless the bank gets its interest we must have the land." it was miss prescott's relation of the true state of affairs to roy and peggy that sunny afternoon that had brought forth roy's exclamation recorded at the beginning of this chapter. "but, auntie," burst out peggy, blankly, "does the man mean to say that there is nothing, absolutely nothing, on which we can realize anything?" miss prescott shook her head slowly. "there is nothing we can do," she rejoined, sadly. "we shall have to leave dear old shadyside and the land will be cut up and sold to strangers. land which the first prescott settled on and which has been in the family ever since. oh, dear!" and miss prescott, never the most strong-minded of women, drew out her handkerchief and began to sniff ominously. peggy, looking bewitchingly pretty in a simple muslin frock, wrinkled her forehead seriously. "it can't--it simply can't be as bad as all that," she persisted. "we can raise the money somehow." "five thousand dollars!" cried miss prescott. "phew! that is a lot of money," from roy. but peggy had jumped up from her chair. "the contest, roy! the contest!" she was exclaiming. "we must write this very day for particulars. if the golden butterfly can win that prize----" "by jove, sis, it's five thousand dollars, isn't it?" burst out roy, almost equally excited. "i'd forgotten all about it up till now. what an idiot i am. if only----" he stopped short suddenly, struck by a depressing thought. probably there were plenty of machines, most of them far better than the golden butterfly, entered in the contest which they had read about. his enthusiasm died away--as was the way with roy--almost as quickly as it had flamed up. but peggy would not hear of hesitation. she made roy sit down that very night and write to the committee in charge of the higgins' prize. under her brave, independent urgings things began to look brighter. it was a fairly cheerful party that sat down to a simple supper that evening. "oh, dear," sighed peggy, in the course of the meal, "if only i knew some one who needed a bright young woman to run an aeroplane, how i'd jump at the job." "you ought to get a high salary at it anyhow," rather dolefully joked roy. "and make a high jump, too," laughed peggy; "but seriously, auntie, i can run the butterfly almost as well as roy. mr. homer said so before he left. he said: 'well, miss prescott, i've taught you all i know about an aeroplane. the rest lies with you, of course.'" peggy went on modestly: "i could run an auto before. i learned on the one that jess had at school, so it really wasn't hard to get to understand the engine. don't you think i'm almost as good a--" peggy paused for a word--"a--sky pilot!" she cried triumphantly, "as good a sky pilot as you are, roy?" "almost," modestly admitted roy, his mouth full of strawberry shortcake, "but never mind about that now, sis. there are more important things to be thought of than that. i'm going into town to-morrow for two things. one is to see mr. harding myself. it takes a man to tackle these things----" "oh, dear!" sniffed peggy. "the other bit of business i have to attend to," went on roy, "is to get a position. it's time i was a breadwinner." roy thought that sounded rather well and went on--"a breadwinner." "oh, roy!" cried his aunt, admiringly, "do you think you'll be able to get a position?" "without a doubt, aunt," rejoined roy, confidently; "no doubt several business houses would be glad--to have me with them," roy was going to say but he thought better of it and concluded, "to give me a chance." peggy said nothing, which rather irritated the boy. he concluded, however, that being a girl, she could hardly be expected to appreciate the responsibilities of the man of the household. for since that afternoon and its disclosures, roy had, in his own mind, assumed that important position. somewhat to roy's surprise he found no difficulty in obtaining access to mr. harding at the bank. on the contrary, had he been expected he could not have been ushered into the old man's presence with greater promptness. he stated his business briefly and straightforwardly. "now, mr. harding," he concluded, "is there no way in which this matter can be straightened out?" the old man, in the rusty black suit, picked up a pen and began drawing scrawly diagrams on the blotter in front of him. apparently he was in deep thought. but had roy been able to penetrate that mask-like face he would have been startled at what was passing in simon harding's mind. at last he spoke: "i understand that you have built an aeroplane which is a success?" he questioned. "that's right, sir," said roy, flushing proudly; "but the ideas we put into it were my father's--every one of them. he practically made it his life work, you see, and----" "and you beggared yourself carrying those ideas out, eh?" snarled the old man. "oh, you need not look astonished. i know all about your affairs. more than you think for. and now having expended a wicked sum for the engine of this flying thing where do you expect to reap your profit?" roy was rather taken aback. in the past days--since the first wonderful flight of the golden butterfly--he had not given much thought to that part of it. he realized this now with a rather embarrassed feeling. old harding eyed him keenly. "why--father, before he died, spoke of the government, sir. he wanted the united states to have the benefit of the machine if it proved successful." "bah!" sneered old harding, scornfully, "a mere visionary dream of an inventor. now i have a business proposition to make to you. i myself am interested in aeroplanes--or rather in their manufacture." "you, mr. harding!" roy looked his astonishment. the last vehicle in the world one would have thought of in connection with "old money grubber," as he was sometimes called, was an aeroplane. if he had been given to such things roy would have concluded the old man was joking. "yes, sir," snapped mr. harding, "i am. but not directly. it's on fanning's account. he tells me that he has a chance to organize a company to give aeroplane exhibitions and also to manufacture them. but he has not been able to find a suitable machine, or one that was not fully covered by patents till he saw yours in flight the other day." suddenly he raised his voice: "fanning! come here a minute." almost immediately, through a door which roy had not hitherto noticed, but which evidently led into an adjoining office, the figure of simon harding's son appeared. to his chagrin, roy realized that almost every word he had said to the father must have been overheard by the son. young harding, who was dressed in a flashy gray suit, with trousers rolled up very high to exhibit electric blue socks of the same hue as his necktie, greeted roy, who felt suddenly very shabby and insignificant, with a patronizing nod. "sorry you're in difficulties, roy," he said, "but you never were a business chap even at school." the memory of certain monetary transactions in which young harding had been concerned occurred to roy. the other's patronizing air angered him. he would have liked to make some sharp, meaning retort. but the thought of peggy and his aunt restrained him. roy was beginning to learn fast. "you needn't bother to tell me anything about the case," went on the younger harding. "i accidentally overheard all that you said. now, roy, my father has stated the case to you correctly. i've got a chance to make money with aeroplanes if i can only get hold of a new model. you've got just what i want." "come to the point, my boy, come to the point," urged his father. "i'm getting there, ain't i?" snarled the dutiful son. "well, roy, you're in pretty tight straits. we can foreclose on that mortgage any day we want to. but we won't do it if you give us a square deal. forget the government. make a deal with us consigning to me the right to manufacture and exhibit those aeroplanes and i'll set aside that mortgage and give you a thousand dollars to boot." "and suppose i won't accept that offer?" asked roy, slowly. "then we shall have to go ahead and foreclose. we want that land anyhow, but i am even more anxious to set up my son in a paying business," exclaimed old harding. "our offer is a fair one. it amounts to giving you six thousand dollars for a thing of canvas, wire and clockwork." "rather more than that, sir," said roy, in a steady voice, although he was inwardly blazing. "well, what do you say?" asked fanning, eagerly. "we'll draw up the papers right now if you say so." but roy was learning fast. he knew that the offer just made him had been an inadequate one. "i'd like to have time to think it over," he said, hesitatingly. "take all the time you want," said old harding, with a wave of his shrivelled, claw-like hand. but fanning did not seem so pleased. it flashed across his mind that roy wanted to consult with peggy, and somehow fanning felt that in that case his offer would meet with refusal. he therefore resolved to put in a heavy blow. "but i want to start at once," he said. "i can't wait any length of time. when you think that if you don't accept my offer you'll all be without a roof over your heads i should think that for the sake of your sister and your aunt you'd accept." "they'll never be in that position while i can work," rejoined roy, with a flushed face. he rose and picked up his hat. somehow he felt that he could not stand fanning very many minutes more. "yes, very fine talk, but what can you do?" snarled simon harding. chapter iv. jess and roy. roy flung back some sort of answer and hastened out of the office. as he made his way up the sunny street outside, however, he could not get out of his mind the words of simon harding. after all, they were true; "what could he do?" mentally, as he walked along, roy ran over the list of his accomplishments. he came to the conclusion that aeroplane building and flying was where his greatest strength lay. but how was he to proceed to make money with his knowledge? at this point in his meditations, when, unnoticed, he had almost reached the end of the elm-shaded village street, a loud "honk! honk!" suddenly startled him. he looked up, and his gloom vanished like a summer cloud as he saw smiling down on him from the driver's seat of the big auto which had just rolled up beside him, the sunny countenance of jess prescott. she was in automobile attire and looked unusually attractive. "oh, i am so glad i've run across you," she exclaimed. "you almost did," laughed roy. "did what?" "run across me, of course," was the response. "but what are you doing in town? and driving your own car, too. where is jimsy?" "oh, he had to do an errand for father." "and so you are acting as chauffeur?" "yes, don't i make a nice one?" "you certainly do," rejoined the lad with a great deal of emphasis. "well, that being the case, you are commanded to jump in by me at once. i've got an errand or two to do and then i'm driving home. we'll go by your place and i can drop you there." "that's very good of you----" began roy, but jess cut him short. "it's really selfish," she exclaimed. "i was looking for an escort. i really need one. you haven't got a revolver with you, have you?" "good gracious," exclaimed the astonished boy as he climbed into the big car; "no, of course not. whatever do you want one for?" "why," confided jess, as they sped along, "i'm on my way to the bank. mother is going to a big dinner party to-night and i volunteered to fetch out her jewels for her from the safe deposit vault where she keeps them." "and you were afraid of robbers holding you up?" "of course not," laughed the girl, skillfully dodging a vagrant dog that sped across the road in front of the big car; "but just the same, i'm glad to have a nice big boy like you with me. you see, some of the jewels are very valuable, and one never knows what might happen." "no," agreed roy; "but in broad daylight, on the road between sandy bay and your home, there could hardly be any risk. for instance, who would know that you had valuables in the car?" "nobody, except some of the servants at home probably," responded jess. "but here's the bank." as she spoke she skillfully manipulated her levers and pedals and brought the car to a stop against the curb as neatly as any driver could have accomplished it. the car had hardly come to a stop before the bank door flew open and fanning harding emerged, his features drawn up into what he meant to be a pleasing smile, but which more resembled a smirk. jess, ignoring his proffered hand, leaped lightly to the sidewalk and, responding somewhat frigidly to his pleasantries, made her way into the bank. a cold nod was all that had passed between fanning and roy, though young harding had looked astonished at beholding the other in jess's car. before long the girl tripped out of the building once more. but this time she carried with her a black leather case. fanning was once more at her side and insisted on helping her into the car, holding her arm rather tightly as he did so. "i wish i could accompany you," he said. "ten thousand dollars' worth of jewels is a rather risky thing to carry about." "oh, i have a splendid escort, thank you," spoke up jess, frigidly. she drew on her gauntlets and began fumbling with the levers. roy was already out of the car and cranking up. "it would be the pleasure of the ride," said fanning, in a low voice. "if i were with you i could almost wish somebody would try to hold us up so that i could show you what i could do in your defence." "just as you did that day at school when poor little henry willis was being beaten by that big bully hank jones?" asked jess, quietly. fanning's glances, and the emphasis he threw into what he said, were very distasteful to her, and she took what proved an effectual means of squelching him. "you know i had a sore wrist that day and couldn't get into a fight with hank," said fanning, but his eyes were downcast and he had not much more to say. presently the auto chugged off, leaving the disgruntled youth standing on the sidewalk following it with his eyes. "so you're trying to win out jess bancroft, are you?" the over-dressed lad thought to himself. "well, roy prescott, i guess that settles you. i've never liked you, and now that i've a chance to get the upper hand of you i'm going to use it. you'll regret this auto ride to-day in days to come, or i'm very much mistaken." he turned and reëntered the bank, but presently emerged again in a leather coat of black material, black leggings and black cap and goggles. hauling out his motor-cycle from a rack in front of the bank he wheeled it into the street, and with an admiring crowd of small boys looking on, started the swift, four-cylindered machine. in a cloud of dust he vanished in the same direction as had jess bancroft's car. jess, once the confines of the village were past, "let the car out." they sped along, chatting merrily. the roads about sandy bay were ideal for automobiling, and perhaps neither of the young occupants of the car noticed how fast they were going when the vehicle topped a small rise and began descending a long steep grade at the bottom of which the railroad, which approached on a curve, was visible in two shining parallel streaks of metal. suddenly there came a shrill, long drawn whistle. "hullo, a train!" exclaimed roy. "must be a freight; there's no regular passenger scheduled to run at this time of day." "that's right," agreed jess. "i guess i'll slow down a bit till we see how close it is to the crossing." she pressed her foot on the brake pedal and shoved hard. but to her astonishment there was no diminution in the speed of the car. it plunged forward down the hill, gaining impetus every second. "better slow up, jess," warned roy, who had not noticed the girl grow white and faint, as the possibility of what might occur if she could not control the car flashed before her. "i--i can't!" she gasped. "the emergency brake!" almost shouted roy. below them he had seen a swiftly moving column of white smoke. it was the approaching train. now it whistled once more. that meant it was close upon the crossing toward which the car was racing at terrific speed. "i've--i've tried it. it's jammed or something! oh, roy! the train!" before she could say any more roy had risen from his seat, and gently, but firmly, removed the girl's trembling hands from the steering wheel. with might and main he tried to check the car. but all he did was in vain. drops of perspiration stood out upon his forehead. jess, utterly unnerved, sank back in her seat and hid her face with her gloved hands. above the roar of the on-dashing car could be heard the sharp puffing of the approaching locomotive. roy tugged as if he would tear his muscle out at the brake lever, but it refused to budge. a sort of desperate coolness came over him. but jess, who had uncovered her eyes for an instant, gave a sudden shrill scream. "oh, we'll be killed! look,--the train! we'll crash into it!" "sit down, jess," ordered roy, sternly, for the excited girl had seemed to be on the point of jumping from the car as it swayed and bumped toward what seemed certain annihilation, at a terrific rate. roy glanced desperately about him. the hill was enclosed by steepish banks with hedgerows at the top. but at one point he thought he saw a chance of escape. as he despairingly changed the direction of the car two figures sprang from behind the hedge and gazed in amazement at the runaway auto. "they'll be killed to a certainty!" cried one. indeed it seemed so. with jess in a dead faint and roy looking straight into the dark face of danger the uncontrolled car tore onward toward the train. the engineer saw it now and blew his whistle shrilly. chapter v. a narrow escape. but roy's quick eye had noted one loophole of escape,--a gap in the bank. truly it was taking a terrible risk to dash the car through it. the boy did not know what lay beyond, and in taking the chance he was running almost as great a risk of annihilation as if he kept straight on. but to have done the latter would have been to crash into a solid wall of moving freight cars as they bumped across the grade crossing. it was almost certain that they would be thrown out and maybe injured. but roy did not hesitate. with a quick twist of his steering wheel he sent the car spinning on two wheels for the gap. for an instant it seemed as if the vehicle would capsize under the sudden change of direction. but it did not, although it tilted over at a dangerous angle. whiz-z-z-z-z! in a flash they were through the gap, the landscape blurring, so terrific was the speed. the next instant there was a sickening shock. instinctively roy threw out an arm to protect his fair companion. hardly had he done so before he felt himself impelled through the air as if from a catapult, and all grew blank. when roy came to himself his head ached as if it would burst. it was some few seconds, in fact, before he realized what had occurred. when he did he looked about him. a few paces away lay the still form of jess bancroft. she was stretched out on a cushion upon which she must have fallen. for an instant, as he gazed at her features as pale as marble, and her closed eyes, a dreadful thought flashed across roy's mind. what if she were dead? but to his great relief he speedily ascertained that the girl was breathing. an ugly bruise on her forehead may have accounted for her continued swoon although she had fainted with terror the instant the train appeared beneath them on the crossing. the car, its hood crumpled up as if it had been made of paper instead of metal, stood at the foot of a tree not far off. "no wonder we were thrown out," thought roy, as he gazed at the wreck and considered the speed at which they had encountered the obstruction. "the wonder is we escaped with our lives." after a brief and ineffectual attempt to arouse the girl the boy looked about him for some means of assistance. the cowardly train crew had not stopped when they saw the accident. visions of damage suits and summary discharges may have drifted through their minds, for extra freights were supposed to send flagmen to the crossing to warn all traffic of the train's approach. suddenly roy recollected the two men he had seen spring from behind the hedge as the runaway auto approached the gap. what had become of them? apparently they had taken to their heels also, for not a sign was to be seen of them. "odd," thought the boy to himself; "one would think the first instinct of a human being at seeing an accident like this would be to stay and help. but, hold on, maybe they've gone for a doctor. a retired physician, dr. mays, lives not far from here. in the meantime if i could only get some cold water." suddenly he spied a small brook at the foot of the hill. ill and dazed as he felt roy sprinted toward it, and wetting his handkerchief hastened back to jess. kneeling by her side he bathed her forehead. he was rewarded in a few moments by beholding her eyelids flutter and open. in a few seconds more she was fully conscious, but weak and shaken. roy collected the scattered cushions from the wreck, and placing them like a mattress laid the girl upon them. she thanked him with a wan smile and then lay still once more. roy wisely did not speak. he judged that perfect quiet was what she wanted at that moment. while he sat by her side meditating what to do a sudden noise caused him to look upward. it was a noise like the drone of a giant bumble bee. it came from directly above his head. "the golden butterfly!" shouted roy, springing to his feet. above him, at an elevation of some thousand feet, the yellow wings of the prescott aeroplane were outlined against the blue, like the form of one of her namesakes. roy shouted and waved frantically. presently he was rewarded by the flutter of a handkerchief from the chassis of the 'plane. at the same instant it was swung about, and revolving in graceful circles began to spiral down to the earth. "hooray! it's peggy and jimsy!" cried roy. "i recollect now jess told me that jimsy was to have a lesson to-day." ten minutes later the aeroplane lighted in the field not a hundred yards from the wreck. as it reached the ground peggy started the engine at reduced speed. the aerial marvel began to scoot across the field toward roy as obediently as if it had been an automobile under perfect control. agitated as he was roy could not help feeling enthusiastic as the huge, glittering, flying thing came closer, its engine roaring and its propeller whirring angrily, and yet, the dainty girl in the motor bonnet who was driving it had it under perfect control every second. throwing back a lever and cutting off the spark and the gasolene, peggy brought the aeroplane to a stop with a jerk. jimsy, with alarmed questions on his lips, sprang out, while roy helped his sister to alight. "good gracious, whatever has happened?" gasped the girl, as she stood on the ground and viewed the still form of her chum jess, over which jimsy was bending in genuine alarm. "it's all right, sis," roy assured her, "jess is not badly hurt. see--she is looking up at you." peggy sped lightly over the turf to her chum's side. "oh, peggy, dear, i'm so glad you've come. it was dreadful. but roy was so brave. i'm sure i owe my life to him, for the last thing i recollect we were heading direct for the train." she would have said more, but peggy held up an admonitory finger. turning to roy she sought an explanation of all that occurred. it was soon told, and then the question of summoning a physician came up. in the midst of the discussion peggy gave a glad little cry. "the aeroplane! i can fly over to doctor mays' house. there's a dandy big pasture in the rear in which to alight." "by george, that's so," agreed roy, "and i guess, although it sounds a bit startling, it's the only thing to do. we can't run the car and nobody will be along here for hours perhaps. this road isn't travelled much." but peggy, with that quick decision which was characteristic of her, was already half way to the aeroplane. a moment more and she was in the chassis, and slipping into the driver's seat began adjusting the motor. "i'll leave you to look after jess," said roy to jimsy, "while i go along with peggy. i'm not sure that she is as expert in managing an aeroplane as she thinks she is." "well, she brought me over here at a great rate, anyhow," put in jimsy, loyally. "and in the nick of time, too," said roy, warmly pressing the other's hand. "oh, do be back as quickly as possible, my foot hurts dreadfully," moaned poor jess, "and my head feels as if a thousand dwarfs were hammering away inside it." "we'll be back before you expect us," roy said, cheerily. jimsy shouted something, but his words were drowned in the roar of the motor as roy clambered into the golden butterfly and peggy started the engine. the aeroplane dashed forward over the smooth turf and then seemed to take the air as lightly and easily as a bit of gossamer. straight up it soared, high above the tree tops, and was speedily reduced to a fast diminishing speck in the northwest in which direction lay doctor mays' home. looking downward from the speeding flyer the boy and girl aviators could see, spread out below them like a checkerboard, the fertile long island landscape. through it ran the railroad, looking like a glittering ribbon of steel. off to the north the sea sparkled, a few white sails dotting its surface. the black rock lighthouse, painted in bands of red and white, formed a conspicuous object. all at once, on the road beneath them, roy spied a solitary motor-cyclist whom, even at the height to which they had now risen, he recognized as fanning harding. he called his sister's attention to the rider. "he must have passed right by where the accident happened," he remarked; "that road has no outlet for some distance. funny that he didn't come to help us." "you must remember that the banks and hedge hid the place from the road," peggy reminded him. "even fanning harding wouldn't have willfully passed by you when you were in such straits." "i don't think so, either," agreed roy, "and come to think of it, bending over his handlebars as he is, he would not be likely to have noticed the gap we ploughed through." "look," cried peggy suddenly, "he's stopping." the girl was right. the motor-cycling boy, whose pace had hitherto been as fast as that of the aeroplane, could now be seen to slacken his machine and finally stop it. leaning it against a fence he clambered into an adjoining field, and with every evidence of extreme caution he crept toward a patch of woods at no great distance. "what can he be doing?" exclaimed peggy. as she spoke they saw the boy below them take something from his hip pocket. "a pistol!" cried roy. the next instant fanning harding had vanished into the patch of woods without having noticed the aerial observers, or, at least, so it appeared. chapter vi. a roadside mystery. "now, what could he be up to?" roy wondered as they sped on. "give it up," laughed peggy, "unless he was going rabbit shooting." "rabbit shooting with a pistol--and in june--oh, peggy, i thought you were more of a sport than that." "well, can you suggest any solution?" "frankly--no. but i've been forgetting something which the sight of fanning harding reminded me of," and roy at once plunged into an account of his interview with the banker and his son. to his great relief peggy agreed with him that on no account must the aeroplane be turned over to the hardings, but her mind was sadly troubled, nevertheless, by what her brother told her concerning simon harding's attitude. "it looks as if he was bent on hounding us," she sighed. "it surely does," agreed roy, "but look, sis--there's doctor mays' house off there. you'll have to make a landing in that field back of the barn." peggy nodded and deftly touched a lever or two. the aeroplane began to descend. "want me to take the helm?" inquired roy. if peggy had dared to turn her head she would have flashed an indignant glance at her brother. as it was she had to content herself with a very haughty, "no, indeed." roy laughed. "you surely are the original girl aviator," he exclaimed. "huh!" cried peggy, "by no means the original one, my dear. there are lots of them in europe and there soon will be in this country, too." "i hope so," responded roy, "riding with a pretty girl in an aeroplane just suits me." but peggy did not reply, and for a good reason. they were now just above the pasture lot in which she meant to descend, and below them, as they dropped, an amusing scene was transpiring. the doctor's horse, old dobbin, was dashing madly around in circles, faster than he had gone in twenty years of solid respectability; the two cows, and an old mother pig with her family, joined him as the strange whirring thing from the sky dropped lowering above them. as for the chickens, they flew wildly in every direction, clucking as if they had gone mad. in the midst of the turmoil a rear door opened and a kindly-faced old man with white whiskers and a pair of big spectacles perched on his nose, emerged, to see what could be causing all the disturbance. he fairly dropped the big book he was holding, in his astonishment as he beheld a glistening object, like a huge yellow and spangled bird, dropping in his very back yard, so to speak. but the next instant he recovered himself. "bless my soul," exclaimed dr. mays, for it was the retired physician himself, "i thought for a moment that the fabled days of the gigantic roc, with which sinbad the sailor had his adventures, had returned. "it must be those prescott children. ah!" he exclaimed, as the aeroplane alighted and came to a standstill, "it is! dear me, what a century we are living in! boys and girls flying about like--like--my chickens!" he "clucked" reassuringly to the terrified birds as he hastened toward the now stationary machine. roy and his sister came forward to greet the venerable old doctor as he approached. roy hastily explained their errand, being interrupted constantly by the physician's exclamations of astonishment. "go back with you? of course, i will, my children. will one of you help me catch old dobbin and harness him? my man jake is in town to-day." "oh, doctor," cried peggy, entreatingly, "can't we persuade you to go back with us in the golden butterfly?" "to fly! good heavens!" the aged physician threw up his hands at the idea. "it is perfectly safe, sir," put in roy. "safer than old dobbin in his present frame of mind, i should imagine." they all had to laugh as they looked at the hitherto staid and sober equine careening about the pasture with his tail held high, and from time to time emitting shrill whinnies of terror at the sight of the strange thing which had landed in his domain. "i don't know, i really don't," hesitated dr. mays. "the very idea of an old man like me riding in an aeroplane. it's--it's----" "just splendid," laughed peggy, merrily, "and, doctor, i've often heard you say to father that it was a physician's duty to keep pace with modern invention." "quite right! quite right! i often told your poor father so," cried dr. mays. "well, my dear, it may be revolutionary and unbecoming to a man of my years, but i actually believe i will brave a new element in that flying machine of yours. more especially as we can reach my young patient much quicker in that way." while dr. mays, who was a widower and childless, went to hunt up an old cap, as headgear for his novel journey, roy obtained permission to use the doctor's telephone. he called up jess's home and related briefly to mrs. bancroft what had occurred, and asked that an automobile be sent to the scene of the accident. mrs. bancroft, who at first had been seriously alarmed, was reassured by roy's quiet manner of breaking the news to her, and promised to come over herself at once. by this time doctor mays was ready, and the young people noted, not without amusement, that under his assumed air of confidence the benevolent old gentleman was not a little worried at the idea of braving what was to him a new element. the golden butterfly was equipped with a small extension seat at the stern of her chassis, and into this roy dropped after it had been pulled out. dr. mays was seated in the centre, as being the heaviest of the party, while peggy resumed her place at the steering and driving apparatus. "all ready behind?" she called out, laughingly, as they settled down. "all right here, my dear," responded the doctor with an inward conviction that all was wrong. "go ahead, sis," cried roy. "hold tight, doctor, to those straps on the side." with a roar and a whirring thunder of its exhausts the motor was started up. dr. mays paled, but, as roy afterward expressed it, "he was dead game." forward shot the aeroplane across the hitherto peaceful pasture lot which was now turned into a crazy circus of terrified animals. "wh-wh-when are we going up?" the doctor asked the question rather jerkily as the aeroplane sped over the uneven ground, jolting, and jouncing tremendously despite its chilled-steel spiral springs. "in a moment," explained roy; "the extra weight makes her slower in rising than usual." "look out, child!" yelled the doctor, suddenly, "you'll crash into the fence." he half rose, but roy pulled him back. "it's all right, doctor," he said reassuringly. but to the physician it seemed far otherwise. the fence he had alluded to, a tall, five-barred, white-washed affair, loomed right up in front of them. it seemed as if the aeroplane, scudding over the ground like a scared jackrabbit, must crash into it. but no such thing happened. as the 'plane neared the obstruction something seemed to impel it upward. peggy pulled a lever and twisted a valve, and the motor, beating like a fevered pulse, answered with an angry roar. the golden butterfly rose gracefully, just grazing the fence top, like a jumping horse. but, unlike the latter, it did not come down upon the other side. instead, it soared upward in a steady gradient. the doctor, his first alarm over, gazed about him with wonder, and perhaps a bit of awe. many times had he and his dead friend, mr. prescott, talked over aerial possibilities, and he had always listened with interest to what the inventor had to say. but that he should actually be riding in such a marvellous craft seemed like a dream to this venerable man of science. after his first feeling of alarm had worn off the physician found that riding in an aeroplane after the preliminary run with its bumps and jouncings is over, is very like drifting gently over the fleeciest of clouds in a gossamer car, if such a thing can be imagined. in other words, the golden butterfly seemed not to be moving fast, but to be floating in the crystal clear atmosphere. but a glance over the edge of the high-sided chassis soon showed the physician that she was tearing along at a great rate at a height of about five hundred feet. fields, woods, streams and small farmhouses swam by beneath their keel. "well, doctor, how do you like it?" roy ventured, after a few moments. "like it!" repeated the physician; "my lad, it's--it's--it's bully!" and thus did his dignity fall like a mantle from doctor mays after a few moments in peggy prescott's, the girl aviator's, golden butterfly. a few moments later they came in sight of the field in which they had left poor jess lying by the side of the wrecked automobile. hardly had they alighted before jimsy, a rather worried look on his face, was at the side of the aeroplane. "say, roy," he exclaimed, "you didn't happen to put that jewel case in your pocket for safe keeping after the accident, did you?" "why, no. jess had it and slipped it under the seat while she was driving," cried roy. "why?" "because it's gone!" exclaimed jimsy, somewhat blankly. "gone! impossible!" protested roy. "but it is. i've searched the field thoroughly in the vicinity of the car, and i can't find a single trace of it." "it couldn't have been stolen." it was peggy who spoke. roy thought a moment. all at once the recollection of fanning harding's queer actions when they had seen him on the road below them flashed into his mind. the road, as he had observed, led past the scene of the accident. would it have been possible for fanning to enter the field while they lay unconscious there? after an instant's figuring roy had to dismiss the idea. had such been the case, the son of the banker would have been much further off when they observed him from the aeroplane than he had been. the speed he was making would have carried him far from the wrecked auto had he been near it at the time the accident occurred. what, then, could have become of the jewel case? "it must be here," exclaimed roy, positively; "nobody could have taken it." while dr. mays bent over jess and examined her injured ankle the others searched the field in every reasonable direction. but not a trace of the jewel case could they find. all at once, the noise of a horse's hoofs coming at a rapid trot was heard from the road. roy, thinking it might be some one of whom he might make inquiries, hastened to the hedge and peered over. he saw, coming toward him, a disreputable-looking old ramshackle rig, driven by a red-haired man of big frame who was slouchily dressed. his chin had once been shaven, but now the hair stood out on it like bristles on an old tooth brush. by the side of this individual was seated none other than the immaculate fanning harding, in his motor-cycling clothes. "why, that's gid gibbons, the most disreputable character about here," exclaimed roy, in amazement. "what can fan harding be doing with him?" he now noted, to his further astonishment and perplexity, that there was a third person in the rig--gid gibbon's daughter, a pretty girl in a coarse way, and given to loud dressing. she had plenty of black hair and a pair of dark eyes that might have been beautiful if they had not had a certain hard, defiant look in them. as they drew near fan harding turned and seemed to whisper something to the girl, whose name was hester, at which they both laughed heartily. chapter vii. peggy is puzzled. "hello, gid," hailed roy, thinking that perhaps the ne'er-do-well, who conducted a small blacksmith shop some distance off, might be able to throw some light on the mystery. "hello, yourself," was the response in a harsh, gutteral voice as gid drew in his reins and the conveyance came to a stop. roy raised his hat to hester gibbons and nodded coldly to fan harding. "good gracious, what's been happening?" shrilled out the girl. "an accident," said roy, and went on rapidly to explain what had occurred. "and the worst of it is," the boy went on, "that besides the accident miss bancroft has suffered a serious loss. a wallet containing valuable jewelry has vanished entirely." roy watched fan harding closely as he spoke and thought that he saw him change color. it might have likewise been fancy, but he could have sworn that the girl, too, looked confused. gid puckered up his lips and emitted a whistle. "lost a wallet with jewelry in it, eh?" he repeated. "have you looked everywhere for it?" asked fan harding, with an appearance of great solicitude. "everywhere we can think of," rejoined roy. he turned to jimsy, who had just joined him. jimsy looked despondent and worried. a glance at his countenance convinced roy that the jewel case was still missing. "i'll get out and help you look for it myself," said fan harding suddenly. "it's awfully queer. miss bancroft remarked when she left the bank that she would take particular care of the jewels." "i wonder if any one passed on this road while we were unconscious?" queried roy, looking narrowly at fan. to his surprise, the other answered with a great show of frankness. "it's very odd," he exclaimed, "but i myself must have gone by this place not more than a few moments after the smash-up. i was on my way to gid gibbons's blacksmith shop to get a part of my motor-cycle fixed up. i guess if i hadn't been bending over my brakes as i rode down hill i'd have seen the place myself." "guess so," struck in gid, with a grin; "no one never accused you of being blind." "my motor-cycle was in worse repair than i thought," went on fan, "and so i left it at gid's place and accepted his offer to ride into town with him." this all sounded plausible enough. yet roy noted that fan had not mentioned his little excursion into the wood with the pistol. what was he trying to conceal? what had been his mission there? while these thoughts flashed through roy's mind gid and his daughter had followed fan's example and now joined the searchers. by this time, jess, under the doctor's ministrations, was able to sit up. her face was pale as marble, partly from suffering, for her ankle still gave her considerable pain, and partly from agitation at the loss of the jewels. there was a sudden puffing of an auto, and presently mrs. bancroft herself, in a smaller car than the wrecked one, was driven into the group by one of the employees of her husband's estate. as gently as possible, after first explanations had been made, jess broke the news to her. mrs. bancroft, a tall, stately woman, went white as she heard. "one of those jewels, a ruby, was an heirloom that has been in the family for years," she exclaimed. "i would not have lost it for all the others. has every place been searched thoroughly?" "everywhere, mamma," responded jess. "bin over ther ground with a fine tooth comb, mum," said the uncouth gid. mrs. bancroft raised her lorgnette and regarded the unabashed gid with a look tinged with some disgust. but gid merely showed his yellow fangs, in what he intended to be a pleasant smile, in reply, and lifted his hat with clumsy gallantry. "what was the last you saw of the jewels?" asked mrs. bancroft of her daughter, after jess had been tenderly carried to the other auto and made comfortable. "it was just before we started down the hill," was the reply. "i felt to see if it was safe under the seat just before the car got away from me." "then they were there just before the accident, of course," put in mrs. bancroft. "and now they are missing in this mysterious way." "well, they couldn't have walked off," said fan; "somebody may have taken them while you were unconscious. unless----" he stopped and glanced at roy, who felt his face flushing angrily. there had been a queer intonation in fan harding's tones. "unless what?" put in jess, looking at fan harding directly in the eyes. his dropped under the scrutiny of the straightforward girl. "i suppose you mean unless i took them," struck in roy, angrily. there was a hard note of defiance in his tones which sounded strange there. fan harding glanced at him quickly and then said in a low voice: "well, it does look odd, you know, and----" "don't dare to say another word like that!" peggy, her soft eyes blazing, stepped forward before mrs. bancroft could stop her. gid gibbon's daughter watched the angry girl with a contemptuous smile. but fan harding went white and shrank back. "i--i didn't mean anything," he stammered. "children! children!" exclaimed mrs. bancroft, "no more of this. it seems that there is a mystery here, and perhaps some day it will be solved. but in the meantime i wish no suspicion, or doubt even, cast on any one." if they had been watching fan harding they would have seen his face brighten up at this. muttering something in an undertone to gid, he slunk off, accompanied by his disreputable blacksmith companion and the latter's daughter, hester, as she went, flung back a glance of contempt at the others, of which they took not the slightest notice. dr. mays elected to return home by means of mrs. bancroft's auto. he declared, laughingly, that he had had quite enough excitement that morning for a man of his years. a few moments after the departure of fan and his strange companions therefore, mrs. bancroft's auto, towing the injured car by means of a rope brought along for that purpose, set out on its return journey. jimsy rode beside his sister, who made a brave effort to bid a cheery good-bye to the young aviators. but, somehow, all of them felt that a constraint had been suddenly born among them, arising out of the mystery of the missing jewels. the next day posters, announcing a reward for the recovery of the jewels, were hurriedly struck off at sandy bay printing office, and distributed throughout the town and the surrounding country. in due course the prescott household, of course, received one, and the perusal of it did not add to their cheerfulness. the bills gave a description of the accident and the circumstances, and roy could not but feel that any logical person reading the things would come to the conclusion that roy prescott probably knew more about the facts of the case, at least, than any one else. in addition to the disconcerting bills the regular police officials of sandy bay visited the prescott home and interrogated roy, to peggy's huge indignation. but worse was to come; private detectives also came and questioned and cross-questioned him at great length. roy could not but feel with all this that he was an object of suspicion, but he bravely went about as before and tried to hide his inner thoughts as closely as possible. jess soon recovered and was up and about once more. the four young folks interchanged visits and motored and "aeroed" together as freely as before, but they somehow all felt that the air was charged with some influence that made things quite different to what they had been before the accident and the subsequent mysterious vanishing of the jewels. peggy privately made up her mind, with a truly feminine intuition, that fanning harding had something to do with the affair. recalling his strange visit to the wood, she even visited the place by herself one day to see if she could light upon any clew that might serve to clear things up. but, as might have been expected, she found nothing. her trip over had been made in the golden butterfly. disappointed at her lack of success, for she had almost allowed herself to believe that she would, in some queer fashion, happen upon a clew, the girl was preparing to return, when something happened. a rod, connecting a warping lever with the right wing of the monoplane, snapped with a sharp crack. "oh, dear!" exclaimed peggy to herself, "what shall i do?" she looked about her as if seeking for information from her surroundings. all at once she became aware that two men had emerged from the wood behind her and were watching her closely. plucky as the girl was, she felt her heart beat a little quicker as she gazed. there was something so very piercing in their scrutiny. suddenly one of them stepped forward, and peggy saw, to her astonishment, that she knew him. more astonishing still, the man was trembling and whitefaced as if in alarm at something. it was morgan, the butler at mrs. bancroft's. "why, morgan, whatever are you doing here?" exclaimed peggy as she breathed more freely. the man hesitated. his companion, whom peggy could now see was an employe about the bancroft stables, came to his rescue. "why, miss, we've been doin' a bit of trapping in the woods there." "yes, miss, that's hit," struck in morgan, a stout, puffy-faced englishman with "side burns." "a bit o' poaching, as you might say, miss. i 'opes you won't tell on hus." "good gracious, no," laughed peggy, immensely relieved to find that the two men were not strangers. "i thought you looked scared when you saw me, morgan." "yes, miss. you see, i haint used in hold england ter see young ledies a flyin' round like bloomin'--bloomin' pertater bugs, hif you'll pardon the comparison, miss. but 'as yer 'ad han h'accident?" "i have," rejoined peggy, restraining an impulse to say "i 'ave." "it's not much. if there was a blacksmith shop round here i could get it fixed in a jiffy. it's just this rod that's snapped." "why, miss," puffed morgan, "gid gibbon's place isn't more than a few paces, as you might say, from 'ere. why don't you take that rod there? hi'll h'escort yer." "why, that's so," agreed peggy, "how stupid of me not to have thought of it. gid can fix it in a few minutes." selecting a small wrench from the tool box peggy deftly unbolted the broken rod, and then, with morgan and his companion as guides, she set off across the fields for gid's shop, which she now recalled was a short distance up the road, but hidden from the spot where the butterfly had dropped by a patch of woods. "by the way, morgan," the girl asked, suddenly, "has anything more been heard of the missing jewels?" to peggy's astonishment the man started and stammered. "yes, miss--that is--no, miss. i means, miss, that there ain't been no news, miss, hof hany kind, miss." peggy nodded without appearing to note the man's confusion. "it's a queer affair, miss," put in morgan's companion, whose name was giles. "it is, indeed," rejoined peggy. "i do wish it could all be cleared up." "same 'ere, miss, hi'm sure," struck in morgan, mopping his puffy face. he seemed to have, in great part, recovered his composure. "well, there is the blacksmith shop," said the other man presently, as they emerged from the fields upon the road through a sliding gate. he pointed to a long, low, ramshackle structure at the cross-roads. beside it stood a fairly neat cottage and beyond this again a brand new shed, from which proceeded a great sound of hammering. as morgan and giles left her, to make a shortcut home across lots, peggy set off at a brisk pace, holding the broken rod in her hands. she almost dropped the bits of metal an instant later in a great surprise that she encountered. the door of the brand new building opened and out stepped fanning harding, in overalls and jumper. suddenly he became aware of peggy's advancing figure and halted, staring at her. chapter viii. hester's ruby. the door of the shed had been opened wide, but fanning closed it swiftly as if in great anxiety to conceal what was within. then it was that peggy first became aware of something she had not noticed before. above the portal was a signboard upon which was painted in staring red letters: "office and works of the fanning harding aeroplane co." hardly had peggy digested this astonishing sign before fanning, his look of startled surprise replaced by a smile, advanced, cap in hand, to meet her. "why, what ever brings you here?" he asked, with the air of easy familiarity which peggy disliked so much. "i guess that that sign gave you a kind of a start, eh?" "it certainly did," agreed peggy, "and it gives me even more of a start to see you working, fanning." "huh," grunted the youth, beneath whose blue overalls were visible a pair of gaudy socks of the kind he affected, "i guess you think that i can't make good as well as any one else when i try. roy wouldn't go into a deal with me on that aeroplane of his, so i just got busy and started a concern of my own." "do you mean you are actually building an aeroplane?" "yes. got orders for several of them," rejoined the swaggering youth. "so far i've only had gid to help me, but i guess i'll have to enlarge the plant pretty soon. you see that roy would have been wiser to sell me that 'plane of his at the start-off. as things are now, the harding aeroplane company is going to discount anything in its line." "well, i am glad of that," said peggy, briskly, and with some trace of asperity. fanning's conceited, confident air jarred upon her sadly. "but i came over here to find mr. gibbons. i want him to repair this rod for me." "why, that's off an aeroplane!" exclaimed fanning, eagerly; "you must have come to earth in the golden butterfly quite close to here." "why, yes. in that field yonder," rejoined peggy, some instinct telling her not to disclose the true object of her visit there; "my motor went wrong and i had to descend." "what field did you come down in? that one by the clump of woods round the bend in the road?" asked fanning, with just a trace of anxiety in his tone. "yes. it was lucky i was so close. morgan and giles----" "what, morgan and giles were there?" fanning seemed tremendously excited all of a sudden. "why, yes. what of it?" but fanning had pulled himself together. "oh, nothing," he said, in a matter-of-fact tone. "i only thought they were a long way from home, that's all. but here comes gid now. hey, gid! miss prescott wants a rod welded. can you do it for her right away?" "sure," responded the ill-favored blacksmith, shuffling up. his chin was more bristly than ever, and his shifty blue eyes blinked like a rat's beady orbs as he took the bits of metal. "a flaw," he declared, examining them; "wonder it didn't break sooner. come on to the forge, miss, and i'll fix it for you in a brace-of-shakes." off he shuffled toward the ramshackle forge, peggy following. behind her came fanning. as they passed the cottage hester gibbons came flying down the path, but stopped at a sign from fanning. the youth dropped further behind, and as peggy followed gid into the forge and the bellows began roaring, they began to talk in low tones. "do you think she can suspect anything?" asked hester at one point. "not a thing," was the confident response. "that pale-faced old gopher, morgan, was in the wood this afternoon, though. she told me that. the existence of the harding aeroplane company has become known rather before i wanted it to, also. however, they may as well know now as any other time that they aren't the only fliers in the air. i guess the harding aeroplane will beat anything in its line ever seen." "i guess it will," laughed hester, and then, for some unknown reason, they both burst into fits of immoderate laughter. evidently something connected with fanning's new enterprise was deemed highly amusing by both of them. peggy left without seeing hester, although from behind a blind in the cottage, the girl watched her closely enough. gid, whatever his other shortcomings might have been, was a good blacksmith, and the rod was well repaired. peggy soon had it adjusted, and was about to clamber into the chassis and start home when a shout from the road made her look up. an automobile stood there, and in it were jess and jimsy. they hailed her excitedly, and peggy hastily threw out the switch which she had just adjusted and hastened across the field to them. she soon saw that jess was waving a leather pocket case above her head and that her face was flushed and excited. "my dear jess, whatever has happened?" she cried, as she came up to the side of the auto. "happened!" echoed jess. "why, my dear, the most extraordinary, inexplicable thing you ever heard of." "in other words, 'we are up in the air,'" quoth the slangy jimsy, "even if we don't own an aeroplane." "you see this case," cried jess, extending the leather wallet for peggy's inspection. "well, that's the case that held mamma's jewels. it was returned most strangely to us this afternoon. we found it on the porch after lunch. "oh, jess! the jewels were in it. i'm so glad." "no, girlie, it was empty." "empty!" echoed peggy, "and nobody knows how it came there?" "no, we must have been at lunch at the time. none of the servants know anything about the matter, either. it's a real, dark and deep mystery." "it's all of that, my dear watson," proclaimed jimsy, folding his arms and scowling in imitation of a famous detective of fiction. "why on earth should the thief want to return the wallet? you'd think he'd dodge such a risk of being arrested." but peggy had been looking at the wallet which had so amazingly reappeared. "why, jess," she cried, "it's all mud-stained. it looks as if it had been buried somewhere." "it certainly does," agreed jimsy, "but even that doesn't give us any more to go on than the theory that the jewels have been buried some place." "and been dug up again," put in peggy, quickly. after some more conversation the group was about to break up, when jess exclaimed suddenly: "oh, by the way, did you hear about jeff stokes? no, i see you haven't. well, he's been appointed wireless operator at rocky point." "oh, i'm so glad," cried peggy, impulsively; "that's been his ambition for a long time." rocky point was a projecting neck of land about two miles east of sandy bay. it was quite an important signalling station for ships passing up and down the sound. the position which jeff stokes had secured was a lucrative one in a way, and, at any rate, was in direct line of promotion. the two bancrofts waited to watch peggy take the air in her now staunch aeroplane. it was not until she had vanished with a whirr and a whiz that jimsy thought of starting his own car. "gracious," cried jess, as they sped along, "how i wish that the mystery of those jewels could be cleared up." as she spoke they were passing by the cottage occupied by gid gibbons. "oh, look, there's that horrid fanning harding and gid gibbons's daughter at the gate," cried jess. at the same instant as she uttered the exclamation, hester gibbons looked up in time to see jess's gaze concentrated upon her. she whisked about, her skirts swinging as she did so. but she did not turn quickly enough for jess's sharp eyes not to see that she snatched at something she had been wearing at her throat. the millionaire's daughter was almost certain that the object hester snatched at in such a hurry was a ruby brooch, or at least an imitation of one. she had distinctly caught a ruddy flash as hester's hand moved to her throat. jimsy, too, had noticed it, it seemed, for he suddenly observed: "seems queer for hester to be wearing jewelry. her father must be making money fast nowadays." "yes," said jess, but her voice was distant and preoccupied. she was certain that her eyes had not deceived her. it had been a ruby that hester gibbons had pulled off and hastened to conceal. obeying an impulse, she turned and gazed back over the top of the tonneau. through the dust cloud behind the car she could see that hester and fanning harding were once more in deep conversation at the gate. she wondered what they could find so engrossing to talk about, and also speculated on several other things. she, however, avoided mentioning her suddenly aroused suspicions to jimsy. he was so hasty. inwardly she made a resolve to seek out peggy the first thing the next day and compare notes with her. she could not help feeling that matters were assuming a very complicated aspect. chapter ix. a race against time. one evening, a week later, peggy and her brother were tightening up some braces on the golden butterfly after an afternoon's flight along the coast, when the sharp "honk! honk!" of an automobile from the road attracted their attention. running to the door, peggy saw jimsy and his sister in the "gee whizz," as their red auto had been christened. but that there was something the matter with the gee whizz was evident. the motor, ungeared, was coughing and gasping in a painful manner. jimsy shouted as he saw the two young prescotts. "say, you aviators, come here and see what you can do to doctor a poor creeping earthworm of an auto." laughing at his tone and words, peggy and her brother hastened down the path and through the gate. "something's wrong with the transmission," explained jimsy. "what's the trouble?" asked roy. "what a question, you goose?" cried jess; "if we knew we'd have fixed it long ago." "it's doubly annoying," said jimsy, in an impatient voice, "because we got a wire from father to-night, saying that he would take us on a trip to washington with him if we arrived in new york by eight-thirty." "oh, you poor dears," exclaimed peggy, "and if you don't get there at that time?" "we can't go, that's all," said jess, tragically clasping her gloved hands. "bother the luck," muttered jimsy, with masculine grumpiness. "found out what's the trouble, roy?" "yes," was the response; "one of your gears is stripped. i'm afraid that there'll be no washington trip for you folksies." the tears rose in jess's fine eyes. jimsy looked cross, and an abrupt silence fell. it was peggy who broke it with a suggestion. "there's a train leaves central riverview junction at six, isn't there?" "i believe so," rejoined jess, in a doleful voice; "we took it one night, i remember, when we missed the through cars from sandy bay." "it's five now," nodded peggy, examining the dial of a tiny watch, one of the last presents her father had given her. "fat chance of getting this old hurdy-gurdy fixed up in time to make it," grumbled jimsy. "you don't have to," cried peggy, with a note of triumph. "don't have to!" it was jess who echoed the remark. "no, indeed. our aerial express will start for the junction in a few minutes, and----" but the rest was drowned in an enthusiastic shout. jess threw her arms about her chum and fairly hugged her. "you darling. we can make it?" "we must," was the business-like rejoinder. "roy, you get the butterfly out and fill the lubricator tank. we've got enough gasolene." roy and jimsy, arm in arm, hastened off to the shed. the two girls followed more leisurely. it was not long before everything was in readiness, but fast as they worked it was nearly half an hour before preparations were all complete. then they climbed in and peggy started the engine. but the next instant she shut it off again. "the second cylinder is missing fire," she pronounced. roy bent over the refractory part of the motor and soon had it adjusted. then the motor settled down to a steady tune, the regular humming throb that delights the heart of the aviator. "all ready?" inquired peggy, adjusting her hood and goggles and turning about. "right oh!" hailed jimsy. "now, boys and girls, prepare for a long run," warned peggy; "with this load it will take a long time to rise." the aeroplane was speeded up and soon traversed the slope leading from the back of the shed to the summit of the little hill at the rear of the prescott place. as it topped the rise peggy turned on full power. the golden butterfly dashed forward and then, after what seemed a long interval, began to rise. up it soared, its motor laboring bravely under its heavy burden. in the dusk blue flames could be seen occasionally spurting from the exhausts. it would have been a weird, perhaps a terrifying sight to any one unused to it--the flight of this roaring, flaming, sky monster, through the evening gloom. "we've got half an hour to make the twenty miles," shouted roy, from his seat beside his sister. peggy set her little white even teeth and nodded. "i'm going to make for the tracks and follow them. that's the quickest way," she said. it seemed only a few seconds later that the red and green lights of a semaphore signal flashed up below them. "bradley's crossing," announced roy. swinging the aeroplane about, peggy began flying directly above the tracks. "no sign of the train yet--we may make it," said jimsy, pulling out his watch. it showed a quarter to six, and they had fifteen miles to travel, or so roy estimated the distance. "let her out for a mile-a-minute," he exclaimed. peggy only nodded. she was far too busy getting all the work she could out of the motor. an extra passenger makes a lot of difference to an aeroplane, and the butterfly was only built to accommodate three. but she was answering gallantly to the strain. on she flew above the tracks, every now and then roaring above some astonished crossing keeper or track-walker. suddenly, from somewhere behind them, they heard a long, moaning whistle. "the train!" shouted jess. in her excitement she gripped roy's arm tightly and peered back. all at once, around a curve, the locomotive came into view--black smoke spouting from its funnel and a column of white steam pouring from its safety valves. "she'll beat us," cried jimsy, despairingly, as the thunder of the speeding train grew louder. the setting sun flashed on the varnished sides of the cars. the engineer thrust his head out of the cab window and gazed upward. his attention had been attracted by the roaring of the motor overhead. he broke into a yell and waved his hand as he saw the flying aeroplane dashing along above him. the next instant his hand sought the whistle cord. "toot! toot! toot!" the occupants of the aeroplane waved their hands. to their chagrin, however, they saw that, overloaded as the aeroplane was, the train was gaining on them in leaps and bounds. its windows were black with heads now as passengers, regardless of the danger of encountering some trackside obstacle, leaned out and gazed up at the golden butterfly roaring along like some great thunder lizard of the dark ages. "don't they stop anywhere between here and the junction?" gasped jimsy. roy shook his head. "it's a through train from montauk," he said; "they make all the speed they can." "two minutes," cried jess, suddenly; "we won't do it." but peggy had suddenly swung off the tracks and was cutting across country. she had seen that the track took a long curve just before it entered the junction. by taking a direct "crow flight" across country she might beat it after all. and she did. as the train came thundering into the station and stopped with a mighty screaming of brakes and hiss of escaping steam, the aeroplane came to earth in the flat park-like space in front of the depot. "tumble out quick!" shouted roy, "she only stops a jiffy." jess and jimsy lost no time in obeying. "good-bye, you darlings!" cried jess, as she sped after her brother toward the station. "we'll get our tickets on the train!" shouted jimsy, as they vanished. "all ab-o-a-r-d!" the conductor's voice ran peremptorily out. he had seen the race between the aeroplane and the train, but even that could not disturb a conductor's desire to start on time. as the wheels began to revolve, jimsy and jess swung on to the steps of the rear parlor car. as they did so the passengers broke into an involuntary cheer. the shouts of approval at the up to date manner in which the young folks had "made their train," mingled with the puffing of the locomotive as it sped off. among the spectators of the sensational feat had been a broad-shouldered, bronzed man in a big sombrero hat, who sat in the same parlor car which jimsy and jess had entered. he looked like a westerner. as the train gathered headway he suddenly, after an interval of deep thought, struck one big brawny hand upon his knee and exclaimed to himself: "it's the very thing--the very thing. with a fleet of those i could develop the jupiter and astonish the mining world." he rose, with the slowness of a powerful man, and made his way back to where jimsy and jess were sitting. raising his broad-brimmed hat with old-fashioned courtesy, he addressed himself to jimsy and was soon deep in conversation with him. chapter x. the rival aeroplane. in the meanwhile, the exciting race against time had resulted in overheating the golden butterfly's cylinders, and a stop of an hour or more at the junction was necessary. thus it was quite dark when the young prescotts were ready to make for home. a small crowd had gathered to see them start, for there was a little community of houses scattered about the junction. they decided to go the way they had come, namely, to follow the tracks to the crossing and then turn off for home. it was their first experience in night piloting, and when they were ready peggy switched on the tiny shaded bulb that illuminated the compass. this done, she started the engine, and the golden butterfly shot into the air under its reduced load with an almost buoyant sense of freedom. the crossing was reached in several minutes less than it had taken them to reach the junction on the going trip. peggy turned off as she marked the glowing lights beneath her, and presently the golden butterfly was skimming along above dark woodlands and gloom-enshrouded meadows. there was something awe inspiring about this night flying. above them the canopy of the stars stretched like a mantle spangled with silver sequins. below, the earth showed as a black void. they were flying slowly to avoid overheating the cylinders again. suddenly a bright glare shot up against the night from below, and a little ahead of them. it died down almost instantly, only to flash up once more. "gid gibbons's forge!" exclaimed roy. "let's fly over by there and see what he's doing." "all right," agreed peggy; "ever since my visit there i have felt a great interest in mr. gibbons. but we'll have to make haste, there's some wind coming before long." the girl was right. a filmy mist, like a veil, had spread over the stars, dimming their bright lamps, and a wind was beginning to sigh in the trees under them. but they had not reached gid gibbons's place, or rather a location above it, when an astonishing thing happened. from the ground a red light and a green light set at some distance apart began to rise. up and up they climbed through the night in long, swinging circles. between them was dimly visible the dark outlines of some fabric. "an aeroplane!" cried the boy and girl, simultaneously. "fan harding's aeroplane!" cried peggy, an instant later. "and--oh, roy--it can fly!" she added, admiringly. "no doubt of that," was the rather grudging reply, as the red and green lights soared up and up. "keep clear of it, sis, we don't want a collision," warned roy. "oh, i'd like to get close and see it," breathed peggy. "i never would have credited fan harding with being able to do it." "nor i," exclaimed roy, his dislike of fan harding giving place to admiration--genuine admiration--of the other's ingenuity. "well, he's beaten me out at my own particular specialty," he exclaimed presently, after an interval in which the lights had climbed far above the golden butterfly. "that's a better machine than ours, peg." "i guess we'll have to admit that," rejoined the girl, with a sigh. "i wonder if he'll enter for the prize?" "of course. with a craft like that he'd be foolish if he didn't. odd that he's trying it out at night, though." "i suppose he wants to keep secret what it can do and then spring it on an astonished world," rejoined peggy. "good gracious!" she broke off hurriedly. the aeroplane had given a sudden lurch, and at the same instant a sharp puff of wind struck them both in the face. peggy's hands fairly flashed among her levers, and she averted what might have been a bad predicament. involuntarily, at the same instant, roy had glanced up at the other aeroplane to see how it was faring. to his astonishment the lights did not seem to waver. "wow, peg!" he cried, "that puff didn't even bother fan harding's craft. it was uncanny to see her weather it." "there's something uncanny about it altogether," sniffed peggy; "it's a regular phantom airship." "that's just what it is," agreed roy, "but i'm afraid it is a substantial enough phantom to carry off that $ , prize." another puff prevented peggy from replying just then. once more the golden butterfly careened violently, and then, under peggy's skillful handling, righted herself. but this time the puff was followed by a steady rush of wind. "better turn, peg, before it gets any worse," advised roy; "we're off our course now." "i--i tried to," exclaimed peggy, desperately, "but the wind won't let me. i don't dare to." "we must," exclaimed roy, with a serious note in his voice; "if this wind freshens much more we won't be able to turn at all." he leaned forward and took the wheel from his sister. but the instant he tried to steer the aeroplane round, the wind, rising under one wing tip, careened her to a perilous angle. "no go," he said; "we've got to keep on going." "but where can we land?" asked peggy, a little catch in her voice. "we'll have to take chances on that," decided roy. "it would be suicidal to try to buck this wind." the breeze had now freshened till it was singing an aeolian song in every wire and brace of the golden butterfly. brother and sister could feel the stout fabric vibrate under the strain of the blast. the aeroplane was moving swiftly now. but it was the toy of the wind, which grew stronger every minute. the dark landscape beneath fairly flew by under them. neither of them thought to look back at the red and green lights in the sky behind them. all at once, roy, who had leaned over his sister's shoulder and glanced at the compass, gave a sharp cry. "we've got to turn, sis," he said, in a tense, sharp voice. "what do you mean, roy? are we in any very serious danger?" the girl's voice shook nervously in response to the anxiety expressed in her brother's tone. "danger!" echoed roy. "girlie, we are being blown out to sea!" blown out to sea! the words held a real poignant terror for peggy. "oh, roy, we must do something!" she cried, helplessly. "yes, but what? we can't, we daren't turn about. the machine would tip like a bucket. no, we must keep on and trust to luck." peggy shuddered. hurtled along in the wind-driven darkness, brother and sister sat in silence, waiting for the first warning that they were approaching the sea. in the blackness it was impossible to see anything ahead, and the starlight, which, dim as it was, might have helped, had been overcast by a filmy covering of light clouds. once or twice as they were hurried helplessly along, the propeller beating desperately against the wind, they saw, far below them, the cheerful lights of some farmhouse. further off a glare against the sky indicated the lights of sandy bay. how they wished that they were safe and sound at home, as they were blown onward by the wind, going faster and faster every minute. roy, his pulses beating hard, and every nerve at tension, had taken the wheel from his sister, even at the risk of careening the aeroplane when they shifted their positions. every now and then he tried to turn ever so little, but each time a tip at a dangerous angle warned him not to attempt such a thing. all at once peggy uttered a shrill cry. "oh, roy! the sea!" above the screeching of the wind and the hum of the motor they could now hear another sound, the thunder of the surf on the beach. straining his eyes ahead roy could see now the white gleam of the breakers as they broke in showers of spray on the seashore. a real sense of terror, such as he had never felt before, clutched at his heart as he heard and saw. but controlling his voice, he turned to peggy. "be brave, little sister," he said; "we'll pull through all right." peggy said nothing in response. she dared not trust her voice to speak just at that moment. white faced and with staring, fixed eyes, she sat motionless and silent, as the golden butterfly was driven out above the roaring surf and the tossing waves. to her alarmed imagination the sea seemed to be reaching up hungry arms for the two daring young aviators. suddenly she was half blinded by a brilliant flash of light which bathed the aeroplane in a flood of radiance. the next instant it was gone, but they could see the great shaft of radiance sweeping around the compass. "it's the light!" cried roy. "the rocky point light!" chapter xi. in direst peril. "oh, if we could only work round and land on the point," exclaimed peggy. "there's a fine, smooth field there; in fact, it's all bare ground, without rocks or trees." "yes, and jeff stokes is wireless operator there, too," rejoined her brother. "hullo," he exclaimed an instant later, "the wind is shifting a bit. i almost got her head round that time." "then there is a chance, roy!" "yes, sis, but don't count too much on it." like a skillful jockey handling a restive horse, roy worked the golden butterfly about on the shifting air currents. if once he could turn her nose toward the land he was sure that he would be able to make the ground by driving the aeroplane down on a slanting angle. once or twice, while he strove with hand and brain against the elements, he caught his breath with a gasping intake--so near had they come to overturning. but, thanks to the wind eddies of the point, it was possible, after a deal of breathless maneuvering, to get the aeroplane headed for the land. the instant he found himself in this position roy threw on all his power and then, "bucking" the wind, like a ship beating up to windward, he rushed down through the night upon the point. as he did so the rays of the slowly revolving light flashed brightly upon the laboring aeroplane. in the radiance it looked like some struggling night bird beating its way against the storm and darkness. as peggy had said, the point was clear of rocks or brush, and a landing was made without much difficulty once the aeroplane had been turned. just as a ship can face the waves with comparative security, so an aeroplane, being driven into the teeth of a gale, is secure so long as she does not "broach to"; in other words, get sidewise to the blast. it was touch and go with the golden butterfly for several minutes, though, during that struggle with the elements, and two more thankful young hearts rarely beat than peggy's and roy's as they stepped from the machine and made it fast by pointed braces provided for the purpose. hardly had she touched the ground before a door in the lower part of the lighthouse opened and the form of jeff stokes emerged. he told them that the struggle with the wind had been seen by the light-keeper and himself, and he was warm in his congratulations of the daring young aviators. the light-keeper, a grizzled man named zeb. beasley, followed close on jeff's heels. "come right into the house and hev some supper," he said warmly. "it's only rough fare, but you're welcome. my misses will be glad to have you." truth to tell, both peggy and her brother were almost famished and worn out after the tension of the struggle with the wind. this being so, they were glad enough to accept the light-keeper's kind invitation. peggy's first action, however, was to hasten to the 'phone in the lighthouse and call up their aunt. miss prescott, who had been badly worried over their prolonged absence, was much relieved to learn that they were safe and sound. mrs. beasley, a motherly woman of middle age, took charge of peggy while jeff stokes entertained roy. jeff said that he liked the life at the light, lonesome as it grew sometimes. when he felt blue he used to relieve the monotony by talking, by means of invisible waves, with other operators. he wiled many a weary hour away in this manner, he said. suddenly, in the midst of their talk, he excused himself and hastened to the small room in which his instruments were. the place, filled with shiny, mysterious apparatus and networked above with wires, was as neat as a pin. "some one's calling," jeff explained. his quick ear had caught the faint "tick-tick" hardly audible to the untrained ears, which told him that a message was vibrating through the night. slipping over his head a metallic apparatus, not unlike the telephone receivers worn by "central," jeff began listening intently. drawing a pad toward him, he was soon writing down the message as it was ticked off. presently it was completed, by which time peggy was one of his audience. "'steamer valiant, captain briggs, of london, wishes to be reported as passing rocky point, bound for boston,'" read off jeff. "hum--nothing very exciting there." "what are you going to do now?" asked peggy, as jeff, the message in his hand, turned to another table, one on which were arranged some ordinary telegraph instruments. "send it by ordinary wire telegraphy into the head office in new york," he said. "why not send it by wireless?" asked peggy. "too much chance of delay and getting cross currents," explained jeff. "we found that for quick transmission of ordinary business, that the wire is best, unless the atmospheric conditions are just right." suddenly, one of the telegraph instruments began to crackle and click loudly. "phew!" said jeff, listening intently; "here's something that will interest you folks." "what is it?" asked peggy, eagerly. "it's--wait a minute till i catch the last----" jeff listened a few seconds more and then faced about. "why, that message was a despatch from the sandy bay correspondent of the new york planet to his paper," he said. "it was an article telling that fanning harding has completed a successful aeroplane which made a wonderful flight to-night in a stiff wind. he says that harding has formed a company and means to manufacture similar craft. then there was a lot of taffy about what a fine young fellow harding is, and how bright, and so on. wonder if it's true?" "i can vouch for that," said peggy. "i've seen his factory. it's out by gid gibbons's shop." "so that's where gid is getting all his money," exclaimed jeff. "i saw him spending it like water in sandy bay the other day. hester's got a lot of new dresses and hats, too." peggy's heart beat a little faster. this sounded like a corroboration of her suspicions. where could such a man as gid gibbons be getting such large amounts of money as he seemed to have recently? but before she could ask any more questions mrs. beasley announced supper. speculation was rife in peggy's mind as they sat down to the broiled sea bass, freshly caught, home-grown potatoes and string beans and other good things which the light-keeper had designated as "rough fare." peggy was fain to admit afterward, and so was roy, that never had she enjoyed anything so much as that meal in the old lighthouse with the wind roaring about it and the rough, kindly faces of their entertainers smiling on them. good-natured mrs. beasley soon after arranged sleeping accommodations for her young guests, and that night the young aviators slumbered peacefully, while above them the great revolving light swept steadily in slow circles, warning vessels passing up and down the sound of the dangerous proximity of rocky point. the next day dawned bright and fair. the sea lay like a sheet of blue glass, with scarcely a ripple to mar its polished surface. the last trace of the wind had died down. "we'll have no more breeze till sundown," announced mr. beasley at breakfast. like most men of his profession, he was an earnest and accurate student of the weather. after breakfast jeff stokes, who had been on duty all night, was relieved by his assistant, a young man who boarded in the village and rode over to his duty on a motor-cycle. "well," said roy, after they had thanked their good-hearted entertainers warmly, "i guess it's time for us to be getting home." but peggy had noted a wistful look in jeff stokes's eyes as he stood by the side of the aeroplane, which an examination had already shown to be none the worse for its buffeting of the night before. "would you like to try a little flight, jeff?" she asked. "would i?" echoed the youth; "will a duck swim?" "yes, i believe so," laughed roy, "and so can a certain young wireless operator fly." "gee, roy, you mean it?" "of course, if you're not scared." there was a mischievous twinkle in roy's eye as he bent over the engine. "how would you like a ride, mr. beasley?" asked peggy presently, while roy adjusted the engine. the weather-beaten old fellow fairly threw up his hands. "land of goshen, miss!" he exclaimed, "i've lived on the earth and sea, man and boy, for fifty years, and i ain't agoin' ter tempt providence by embarking in a sky clipper at this late day." "you bet you ain't," put in mrs. beasley with deep conviction. "why, if you ever done such a thing we'd be like to be read out of church--not but what it's all right for young folks if they know how to manage the contraptions." "now, then, jeff, if you are ready will you get in?" said roy presently. the slender young wireless operator hopped into the chassis with alacrity. but his face was a bit pallid from excitement at the idea of the new method of locomotion he was about to test. last good-byes were said, and the motor began to whirr like a gigantic locust. there was a grinding and buzzing as the gears meshed and the aeroplane began to scud off. "fer all ther world like some big, pesky grasshopper," declared mrs. beasley, as it scudded off across the smooth turf. but if the good lady was astonished, then it was nothing to her amazement when a moment later the butterfly soared up into the air, lifting as gently on the windless atmosphere as a bit of drifting gossamer. up and up it swept in graceful hawk-like circles. "dear suz!" shrieked mrs. beasley presently, "if they ain't agoin' out ter sea!" "just what they air," shouted her husband, shading his eyes with a wrinkled hand. "i never thought ter have lived ter have seen such a thing!" roy had been unable to resist the temptation to take a little spin out above the glassy, scarcely heaving water. the gulls, soaring above it, viewed with amazement the invasion of their realm by this buzzing, angry looking monster. they flew about it shrieking. "goodness, i hope they don't attack us," exclaimed peggy. "not likely," was roy's response. "they think we are some kind of big bird, i guess, and want to have a game with us." as they swept on, all agreed that never had they felt such a feeling of exhilaration as came to them as they swooped and swung above the glistening blue water, for all the world like some huge bird. once or twice motor boats went by beneath them, and the occupants looked up at first in wonderment and then in enthusiasm at the sight the golden butterfly and her three young occupants presented. but all at once the steady song of the engine began to grow different. it "skipped" and sputtered and coughed. blue smoke rolled from the exhausts. the aeroplane began to waver and sag. jeff stokes turned rather pale. "what is the matter?" he gasped, steadying his voice as much as he could as the aeroplane began to drop steadily down toward the water beneath them. "the gasolene's given out," rejoined roy in a voice which was full of anxiety. "oh, roy, what shall we do?" peggy gasped as the aeroplane, its propeller beating the air more and more feebly, began to descend with greater rapidity. "we'll have to volplane to some land if we can, and if we can't we must take our chances for it in the water," was roy's grim reply. chapter xii. what happened on the island. "look," cried peggy suddenly, "isn't that a small island below there? maybe we can make that?" "i'll try to," was the answer, as roy gripped the steering wheel more firmly. at the same instant the motor, with a gasp and a sputter, gave out altogether. but roy knew how to volplane; that is, to reach the earth by swinging the aeroplane in circles so that her stability was maintained even with the power cut off. he began to execute this maneuver now. the island which peggy had indicated was a small spot of land some five miles off the shore. it was sandy and barren looking on one side, though at the further end from them there grew some trees and scrubby looking bushes. if he could only keep the aeroplane from sagging down into the sea roy was confident he could land at the place in safety. but it was still some distance off and the aeroplane was still dropping with much greater rapidity than seemed comfortable. both roy and his sister were expert swimmers, and the boy knew that jeff was at home in the water. but at the same time, if they struck the surface of the sea, there was the chance that they might become entangled in the aeroplane and drowned before they had an opportunity to save themselves. so it was with a keen sense of apprehension that the boy exercised all the air craft of which he was master in bringing his sky cruiser downward. "oh!" cried peggy suddenly as the golden butterfly gave a sickening downward drop like a stone plunging to vacancy. but the empty "air pocket" which the craft had struck was a small one, and the next instant the atmosphere caught the broad wings and buoyed the aeroplane up from what seemed to be destined to be a disastrous fall. the drop had, however, had one good effect. it had thrown the aeroplane almost on end, and in that manner drained a few last driblets of gasolene from the depleted tank into the feed pipes. it was only a little fuel, but it was enough to cause the engine to resume operations for a couple of minutes. taking advantage of this lucky accident, roy drove forward, and as the propeller came once more to a standstill the golden butterfly sank down into a bed of sand which made her almost at once stationary. "well, we are--aerial robinson crusoes," exclaimed peggy as, having clambered out of the chassis, she stood surveying the little island which they had so fortunately landed upon. "yes, and if we don't get some gasolene pretty quick we'll be crusoes in a mighty uncomfortable sense," commented roy, moodily gazing about at the surrounding sea, smooth as a sheet of glass and without the sign of a boat upon it. far off on the horizon there hung a three-masted schooner, all her sails set, in the flat calm. but she was too far off to aid them even had she been able to. "tell you what we'll do, let's explore the island," said jeff stokes suddenly. "of course," cried peggy, clapping her hands, "that's what everybody does in story books when they are stranded on a desert island, and right after that they always find just what they want, even down to a silver-mounted manicure set." "i'd like to see a tin-mounted can of gasolene," grunted roy. nevertheless after seeing to the engine of the aeroplane he was willing enough to set out with the others to explore this little spot of land in the sound. it was so small that it did not take them long to reach the summit of the low peak into which it rose in the centre. "oh, there's a little hut!" cried peggy, suddenly. sure enough, below them, and half overgrown with tall weeds and scrub growth, was a half ruined hut. it was doubtless the relic of some fisherman who had once used the island as headquarters. but it had, apparently, long lapsed into disuse. hardly had they spied it before roy made another discovery. drawn up in a miniature cove not far from the hut was a trim and trig white motor boat, seemingly, from her long narrow shape and powerful engines, capable of great speed. here was a discovery! a motor boat meant gasolene and companionship. with a soft cry of joy peggy was dashing forward toward the hut, from which they could now hear proceeding the hum of human voices, when roy suddenly checked her. from the doorway there had suddenly issued the figure of morgan, the bancrofts' butler. he gazed about him with a look of half alarmed suspicion on his flabby face. the young aviators instinctively crouched back behind a screen of green brush. they felt a suddenly aroused premonition that everything was not as it should be. "h'its nothink," said morgan, addressing someone within the hut, after he had gazed about a little more without seeing anything to further alarm his suspicions. "all right, if that's the case come back in here," came another voice from inside the hut. "giles!" recognized the astonished peggy. but another and a greater surprise was yet in store for them when they heard another voice strike into the conversation. there was no mistaking the tones for any others than fanning harding's. "you chaps are nervous as kittens," he was saying, "who on earth would come to this island? we are as private here as if we were in the south seas. now go ahead, morgan, with what you were saying." "well, what h'i says is this," spoke up the english butler, "a fair diwision and no favoritism. you say you want a third? you ain't h'entitled to h'it. h'it was h'only by h'accident that you found h'out h'our secret h'and h'i thinks you ought to be content with what you can get." "very well," was the rejoinder, "but as you fellows know, i've got you in my power. you daren't make a move without consulting me. if you try any monkey tricks i'll crush you so quick you won't know what struck you. the police are still carrying on their investigation, and----" but here the voices sank so low that the eager young listeners could hear no more. but their eyes shone as they exchanged glances. somehow both peggy and roy felt that the conversation had related to the mysterious vanishing of the jewels. this at least appeared clear from fanning harding's reference to the police. "we'd better get back to the other side of the island before they come out and see us," counseled peggy. "if they were to find out we had been spying on them they might get frightened and spirit the jewels away from wherever they have them concealed, for i'm just as sure now that they are all three mixed up in it as i am that--that----" "we have no gasolene," put in roy. "but you have no proof and nothing to go upon," objected jeff stokes who was, like most folks around sandy bay, familiar with the details of the strange occurrence. "that's just the trouble," said peggy, "and it is just as impossible to go ahead in the case as it is for us to fly without fuel." "peg!" cried roy, suddenly, "look at that!" "that" was a ten gallon can of gasolene standing on the beach by the side of the motor boat. evidently, to drag her bow up on the beach, they had lightened the craft so as to make the task easier, for several ropes, water jars and other bits of marine tackle lay about. "if we could only get it," sighed peggy. "yes, if," was the rejoinder from roy, "but we can't steal it, and, as you say, it might spoil everything if fanning harding thought that we had overheard any of his talk." "look out!" warned jeff stokes in a whisper the next instant. the warning did not come a bit too soon. the door of the hut opened and the party which had been in conference inside emerged. they made straight for the motor boat, which jeff stokes had, in the meantime, recognized as one that was for hire at sandy bay. "come on, boys, we've got to be getting back," urged fanning moving quickly and preparing to shove the craft off. "wait till i chuck some of this truck in," grumbled giles. he stooped and rapidly threw in the ropes and other gear scattered about. then as fanning harding and the flabby-faced butler shoved the craft off he made a hasty scramble for the boat's bow, leaping in as she floated free of the beach. "h'i soy," shouted morgan, "you forgot the bloomin' gasolene." "better put back and get it," growled giles; "if you fellows had helped me a bit instead of givin' advice it wouldn't have bin forgotten." "oh, we can't bother with it now," struck in fanning, impatiently, "we've plenty in the tank to take us back. i'm not going to delay any longer." he spun over the fly wheel as he spoke and the motor boat began to cut rapidly through the water headed for sandy bay. as soon as it had gone a safe distance the three stranded young adventurers joined hands and executed a wild war dance of joy. by a means almost miraculous they had fallen across the very thing they needed. "it's just like the story books!" cried peggy, delightedly. they raced down toward the coveted can, which was half full of the precious fuel. enough to get them ashore at any rate. before returning to the stranded aeroplane they examined the hut, but found nothing in it but a few broken-down bits of furniture. "queer," commented jeff, "i half expected to find something." "not likely," laughed roy, "they're too foxy for that." "what do you suppose they came to the island for?" asked peggy. "to get a quiet place to talk where they would not be observed by any one who knew them, i guess," rejoined her brother. "oh, if only we could solve the mystery. it's tantalizing to be so close to it and yet with so many tangled ends left ravelled." "be patient," advised peggy, "it will all come out in time. and now i'm as famished for lunch as the golden butterfly is, so lets fill up the tank and then head for home." "second the motion," laughed jeff stokes. half an hour later the golden butterfly once more rose, and without incident or mishap winged her way back to rocky point. chapter xiii. jukes dade appears. the aviation field at acatonick a few days before the big contests for juvenile aviators was alive with action and color. the spot selected was a flat, smooth field of some fifty acres on the outskirts of the town. the grass spread a green carpet, thickly sprinkled with wild flowers, while at one side of the place was a row of green-painted sheds known as the "hangars." "hangar is french for shed," peggy had explained to a group of friends from sandy bay whom she was showing over the grounds, "and i think that _shed_ is a whole lot better word than 'ongar,' which is the way you are supposed to pronounce it." one of the sheds--as in deference to peggy we shall call them--was of a different color, and stood somewhat apart from the rest. it was also much larger and bore in consequential-looking letters over its door the words: "harding aeroplane company. keep out." and to see that this notice was enforced to the letter, fanning harding had installed a red-nosed watchman with a formidable club at the portal. considerable secrecy, in fact, had been observed concerning his aeroplane. several large boxes had arrived one night and been hustled as quickly as possible into the shed. the shed assigned to roy prescott, happened, by an odd coincidence, to be next door to the harding one. the second day of their stay at acatonick, roy, on coming down to the field from the hotel at which he and peggy and miss prescott were stopping, was much surprised to be greeted by fanning, with some effusiveness. after a lot of preliminary hemming and hawing, fanning broached to roy once more the proposition of selling the golden butterfly. "but i thought you had a fine type of aeroplane of your own," said roy, wondering at this renewal of fanning's offer. "so i have," was the rejoinder, "but now that i have established my business on a paying business basis i can handle another type. you know mine is a biplane model." roy nodded. he had no liking for fanning, but the other was so effusive that he felt it was incumbent on him to meet the other lad half way, as the saying is. "i'd like to have a look at your craft sometime," he said. "not much you won't," rejoined fanning, quickly, "you'll see her on the day she wins the big prize and not before." "you seem to have it won already," rejoined roy, rather contemptuously. "oh, yes," was the confident reply, "i'm going to simply fly rings round you and the rest, so you'd better take up my offer now, for after the race your golden butterfly stock won't be worth a penny." "i'm not so certain about that," was the answer. "then you won't take up my offer. i'll raise it another two hundred." roy smiled and shook his head. something in his refusal angered the other lad. "well as you wish," he said, strolling off, "but dad has been pretty lenient with you up to date. as you won't meet us half way, though i'm going to advise him to force you to sell the golden butterfly." "how?" "by foreclosing that mortgage without further delay." fanning whipped the words out with a vicious intonation. all his mean nature surged up into his face as he spoke. roy breathed a little quicker. but outwardly he was calm and cold as ice. "that's your privilege," he said shortly, turning away, but that night he and peggy had a troubled discussion about ways and means, and it became more than ever evident to them how much depended on winning the five thousand dollar prize. there were several aspirants in the juvenile class on the grounds as well as fliers of more mature years, for mr. higgins had interested some other capitalists, and it had been decided to make quite an event out of the aerial meet. on the day before the race, which meant so much to them, peggy and roy decided to take a practice spin across country in their 'plane. the capable looking machine excited much favorable comment when it was wheeled out of its shed. several of the other competitors gathered about it while the engine was being tuned up. among them was a surly looking chap with a dark, roughly-shaven chin and a pair of shifty eyes. he stood beside fanning harding, who was also in the crowd about the golden butterfly. the sandy bay boy gazed on with a sneering look while our two young aviators got everything in readiness. this took some time for everybody was anxious to take a hand in the work, and it was quite a task to kindly, but steadfastly, reject these offers, well meant as they were. at last everything appeared to be in good shape and with a buzz and a whirr the engine was tried out. it worked perfectly, and before the crowd had had time to cheer, the aeroplane shot up from the ground in front of its shed with hardly any preliminary run. then came a belated cheer. "that's the craft that wins the big prize," said a stout, good-natured looking man. "don't you be so certain," snapped out fanning harding, who stood close by, and to whom the words were gall. "why, what's the matter with you, my young friend," asked the jovial man; "you must be meaning to get it yourself." "that's right," was the confident reply. "well, don't count your aerial chicks before they're hatched," was the merry rejoinder. a laugh at fanning's expense went up from the crowd. the boy flushed angrily and strode off in the direction of his hangar. "confound that young jackanapes of a roy prescott," he muttered, as he went; "he gets ahead of me every time. but i'll fix him. pop needs that land, and if roy wins this race the prescotts can pay off that mortgage and be on the road to riches. well, i guess i'll settle all that. but i'll have to act quickly." "you seem to be sore on that prescott boy," came a voice at his shoulder suddenly. fanning turned quickly to find himself confronted by the unprepossessing individual who had stood at his side during the start of the golden butterfly, which was by this time almost out of sight in the eastward. "why, what do you know about it?" he asked, sharply. "well," was the rejoinder, "being an observing sort of an individual i figured out that you were not best pleased at seeing what a fine aeroplane that kid has. right, ain't i?" he coolly took from his pocket a disgusting-looking cigar stump and proceeded to light it, leering impudently into fanning's face the while. "well, may be you are and then again you may not be," was the sandy bay youngster's cautious reply; "but how does it interest you?" "because i haven't any more use for him than you have, and if you make it worth my while i'll give you a bit of information that will be of value to you." "what do you mean?" inquired fanning, beginning to listen with more attention than he had hitherto shown. "just this, that i'm jukes dade, who used to work for mr. prescott years ago, but he discharged me for--for--well for a little fault of drinking i had. come now, don't you recognize me?" "by george, i do," exclaimed fanning; "but it was so many years ago you were with mr. prescott that i hardly knew you. you have changed greatly." "i may have," was the reply in bitter tones. "i've been through enough. but there's one thing i ain't never forgotten in all these years, and that is my resolve to get even on old man prescott." "but he is dead," put in fanning, wondering at the baleful expression of hatred that had come into the man's face. "all true enough. i heard that some time ago. but if i can injure the son in any way, i'd like to do it. i've got a wrong to avenge, and if you want to pay well to have roy prescott put out of the race to-morrow i'm your man." "hush, don't talk so loud. some folks over there are looking at us." "oh, well, if you're afraid to----" "no, no, that isn't it. i must prevent roy winning that race to-morrow at all hazards. come into my hangar and we can talk quietly." "ah, that's the talk," was the rejoinder, and jukes dade chuckled with grim delight. "you want a little job of work done to settle our friend's hash. well, you've come to the right shop when you meet up with old jukes dade who has an axe of his own to grind." chapter xiv. a girl aviator's adventure. in the meantime, peggy and roy, the former at the steering wheel and controls, were skimming through the air above the charming country surrounding acatonick. the exhilaration of flying, the thrill and zest of it, were strong upon them as they glided along, and they made an extended flight. "she is working like a three-hundred-dollar watch," cried roy joyously as the speedy monoplane flew onward. "she's a darling," was peggy's enthusiastic response. "i'm sure that if nothing happens you'll win that race to-morrow, roy." "i hope so, little sister," was the response, "for there's a whole lot depending on it." "but just think. if you only do we shall be at the end of our troubles." "not quite, sis," roy reminded her, "that affair of the missing jewels is still a mystery, and as long as it stays so some folks will always be suspicious of me." "oh, roy, don't say such things. nobody but the horridest of the horrid would----" "unluckily," struck in the boy, "there are a lot of the horridest of the horrid in this world, and some of them are in sandy bay." he laughed and then went on more seriously: "it's a pretty nasty feeling, i can tell you, to know that you are unjustly suspected by several folks of--of--er--knowing more about an affair of that kind than you tell." "what can have become of the jewels?" "ah, that's just it. of course we have our suspicion, based really on nothing, that fanning harding knows something about them. but if he did why would he place that wallet on the porch of jess's home?" "it's beyond me." "and beyond me, too. i'm quite sure that nobody was about the place when the accident happened, and i could not have been unconscious more than a few seconds. now who could have stolen the wallet in that time?" "it will all come out in time. i'm sure of it, roy, dear," said peggy, earnestly. "perhaps it will turn out to be not such a mystery after all." "i don't know," was roy's rejoinder. "mr. bancroft has had some of the cleverest detectives in the country on the case, and a description of the jewels, some of which were heirlooms, has been wired everywhere broadcast. but up to date none of them have turned up at any pawnshops or other likely places." for some moments more they talked in this strain, when peggy suddenly gave a cry and pointed below. they were passing over a tiny lake surrounded by steeply sloping banks, wooded with beautiful trees. it was an isolated spot, no human habitation being near at hand apparently. "oh, isn't that pretty?" cried peggy delightedly. "it looks as if it might have come out of a picture book." "and the sight of that water reminds me that i'm terribly thirsty," said roy. "i bet there are some springs by that lake, or if there are not maybe the water is good to drink from the lake itself." "let's go down and see," said peggy, with a bright smile, and setting over a lever and twisting a couple of valves she began to depress the aeroplane. "there's a good landing place off there to the right of the end of the lake," cried roy, indicating a bare spot where some land seemed to have been cleared at one time. "all right, my brilliant brother," laughed peggy merrily. "i saw it at least five minutes ago. hold tight, i'm going to drop fast." to any one less accustomed to aerial navigation than our two young friends, the downward plunge would have been alarming in its velocity. but to them it was merely exciting. within a few feet of the ground, just when it seemed they must dash against the surface of the earth with crushing force, peggy set the planes on a rising angle and the golden eagle settled to earth as gracefully as a tired bird. "well, here we are," exclaimed roy, looking about him at the sylvan scene as they alighted; "and now what comes next?" "a hunt for the spring, of course," cried peggy, placing one hand on her brother's shoulder and nimbly leaping from the chassis to the soft, springy ground. and off they set toward the margin of the little lake below them. "reminds me of ponce de leon's hunt for a spring," laughed roy, who felt in high spirits over the fine way the golden butterfly had conducted herself. "but he was looking for the fountain of eternal youth," said peggy, quickly. "wonder if he'd have been any happier if he'd found it," murmured roy, philosophically. "if he'd been a woman he would," said peggy. "would what? have found it?" "no, you goose, but have been perfectly happy if he had attained perpetual youth. why, i think----why, whatever was that?" the girl broke off short in her laughing remarks and an expression of startled astonishment crept over her features. "why, it's some one groaning," cried roy, after a brief period of listening. "yes. some one in pain, too. it's off this way. come on, roy, let us find out what is the matter." without a thought of personal danger, but with all her warm girlish sympathy aroused, plucky peggy plunged off on to a path, from a spot along which it appeared the injured person must be groaning. but roy caught her arm and pulled her back while he stepped in front of her. "let me go first, sis," he said; "we don't know what may be the matter." peggy dutifully tiptoed along behind, as with hearts that beat somewhat faster than usual they made their way down the narrow path which led them into the deep gloom of the deeper woods. all at once roy halted. they had arrived on the edge of a little clearing in the midst of which stood a tiny and roughly built hut with a big stone chimney at one end. although the place was primitive it was scrupulously neat. painted white with green shutters, with a bright flower garden in front, it was a veritable picture of rural thrift. the boy hesitated for an instant as they stood on the opposite edge of the cleared ground. there was no question but that they had reached the place whence the groans had proceeded. as they stood there the grim sounds began once more, after being hushed for an instant. now, however, they took coherent form. "oh, help me! help me!" roy was undetermined no longer. directing peggy to remain outside till he summoned her, he walked rapidly, and with a firm step, up the path leading to the hut, and entered. it was so dark inside that at first he could see nothing. but pretty soon he spied a huddled form in one corner. "oh, don't hurt me! i'm only a harmless old man! i have no money," cried the cringing figure, as roy entered. "i don't want to hurt you," said the boy kindly; "i want to help you." he now saw that the form in the corner was that of an old man with a silvery beard and long white hair. from a gash on his forehead blood was flowing, and the wound seemed to have been recently inflicted. "what is the matter? what has happened?" asked roy, gently, as he raised the old man to a chair into which he fell limply. "water! water!" he cried, feebly. roy hastened outside saying to himself as he went: "this is a case for peggy." summoning her he hastily related what had occurred and the warm-hearted girl, with many exclamations of pity, hastened to the wounded man's side. "get me some water quick, roy," she exclaimed, tearing a long strip from her linen petticoat to serve as a bandage. outside the hut, roy soon found a spring, back of a rickety stable in which the old man had a horse and a ramshackle buggy. when he returned with the water the poor old fellow took a long draught from a cup peggy held to his lips and the girl then deftly washed and bandaged his wound. this done the venerable old man seemed to rally, and sitting up in his chair thanked his young friends warmly. roy, in the meantime, had been looking about the hut and saw that it was furnished in plain, but tidy style. over the great open fireplace, at one end, hung a big picture. evidently the canvas was many years old. it was the portrait of a fine, self-reliant looking young man in early manhood. his blue eyes gazed confidently out from the picture and a smile of seeming satisfaction quivered about his lips. "i'll bet that's a fellow who has got on in the world," thought roy to himself as he scanned the capable, strong features. "ah," said the old man, observing the lad's interest in the painting, "that picture is a relic of old, old days. it is a portrait of my brother james. he----but i must tell you how i came to be in the sad condition in which you found me. have you a comfortable chair, miss? yes, very well, then i will tell you what happened this afternoon in this hut, and will then relate to you something of my own story for i was not always a hermit and an outcast." chapter xv. the hermit of the woods. "my name is peter bell," began the old man, "and many years ago i was like any other happy, care-free young man, who is the son of well-to-do parents. i had a brother named james bell, who was much younger than me. we were very fond of each other and inseparable. "our home was on the long island coast and we often went boating. one day when we were out in my boat a storm came up and she capsized. i tried to save my brother who was a poor swimmer. but in the midst of my efforts the bulwark of the wave-tossed boat struck my head and rendered me insensible. it seems, however, i must have clung to the boat, for when i came to myself i had almost been blown ashore, and, striking out, i soon reached it. "but to my horror i soon saw that people shunned me. in some way the story got about that i had saved myself at the expense of my brother's life. such stories are always readily credited among the majority of people in a small town and the tale spread like wildfire with exaggerations. driven half wild by the general contempt which i met on every side i left home one night, and having a sum of money in my own right i decided to live the life of a recluse. "i recollected this spot to which i had come on hunting expeditions in brighter days. not long after, grief over my brother's death resulted in my mother's life coming to a close, and shortly afterward my father's demise occurred. "they left but little, but i managed to secure that portrait of my brother you see hanging up there and a few bits of favorite furniture associated with happier times. "i have lived here ever since and have become reconciled to my fate. from time to time i used to advertise for news of my brother, offering rewards, but long ago i stopped that, and have no doubt that he perished in the storm, although for a time i comforted myself by thinking that he might, by some strange chance, have been saved. "in some way a rumor has spread through the countryside that i have much wealth hidden here, and this afternoon four masked men entered the hut and when i protested, in reply to their demands, that i had no money, they struck me down and searched the house. then cursing me for a fraud and an impostor because they found no gold they left, leaving me to my fate." "you have no idea who the men were?" asked roy who, like peggy, had listened with close attention to the old man's story. "yes, i think they were young men of bad reputation from a neighboring village; however, i am not sure. i am certain that i recollected hearing the voice of one of them when i was in the market in that village some time ago." "oh, then, you do go into town sometimes?" asked roy. "oh, yes," rejoined the hermit, "but no more than i can help. i have long since departed from the ways of the world and the habitations of men. but i gather herbs in the woods for miles about and sell them to folks in the villages." "i suppose that is why you have the horse and cart?" put in peggy, who had been gazing out of the window and had noticed the tumbledown barn. "yes," rejoined the old man. "i am not as active as i was once and my old bones will not carry me as far as they used to. so i drive old dobbin when i have a journey of any length to make." the hermit would not hear of any help being summoned for him. he said that he was in no danger of a second attack, as the search of his little property had been thorough and had resulted in the rascals, who had invaded his haunts, getting nothing for their pains. refusing some refreshment the old man offered, the young aviators soon after left the hut, promising to call in again in a few days and give the hermit an opportunity to see the aeroplane in which he was much interested. the old man asked them many questions about the races of the next day and seemed interested in hearing the details. the golden butterfly they found just as they had left her, and clambering on board they were soon winging their way back to acatonick where, as you may imagine, they had an interesting story of the incidents of the afternoon to relate to miss prescott that evening. "i never saw such children for adventures in all my born days," she declared, "but i have a letter here which i must show you. i am afraid it means that we shall have to leave the old home." she drew an envelope from her handbag which lay on a table of the hotel room and handed it to roy. on opening it, he found that it contained a formal notice from the sandy bay bank, that unless the accumulated interest and other moneys owing them were paid up within a week that foreclosure proceedings would be taken. the boy gave a disconsolate whistle as he finished reading the letter aloud and handed it back. he had hardly done so when there came a rap on the door of the room. "i wonder who that can be so late?" thought roy, getting up and going to the door. a bellboy stood there with a note. "a messenger just brought this from the aviation grounds," he said. "any answer?" "wait a minute," said roy, skimming hastily through the note. it was typewritten and signed:--james jarvis, superintendent of arrangements. "dear sir: you are requested to report at the executive tent at once. an important meeting will take place affecting the competitors in the races to-morrow." this was what roy read. then he turned to the bellboy and told the lad to inform the messenger that he would be there as soon as possible. "queer though," he said to peggy and his aunt. "i didn't know of any meeting that was scheduled to take place to-night. i guess it's one that's been called at the eleventh hour to make some arrangements." "that must be it," agreed peggy. "shall i come with you?" "no, thanks, sis," rejoined the boy; "you'd better get to bed. it's going to be an exciting day to-morrow for us all." the boy snatched up his cap and with a hasty good-bye, was off. downstairs in the lobby of the hotel he found the messenger awaiting him,--a shifty-eyed man with a blue chin. it was, in fact, jukes dade, who, in a different suit of clothes and with a clean shave and haircut, looked a trifle more presentable than he had earlier in the day when he made himself known to fanning. "this way, sir," he said, with a fawning sort of bow. "out of this door is the quickest," said roy quickly, with a feeling that he would rather walk to the grounds alone than with such a companion. "but we're not going to walk, sir. the committee has sent an auto for you." "a car, eh?" said roy; "well, that's considerate of them. i'll tell my sister. she might like to come along, too." the messenger shook his head. "sorry, sir; but we've got to pick up some other aviators on our way and every bit of room in the car will be taken." "oh, very well, then," said roy, "lead on." the blue-chinned dade shuffled across the lobby with a furtive air. "funny," thought roy. "i've seen that chap some place before, but to save my life i can't place him." cudgelling his brains to try to recall where he had met the man, roy passed through the hotel lobby and out into the street. in the lamplight he saw a big car standing at the curb, shaking as its ungeared engine puffed and chugged. a chauffeur, with an auto mask and goggles on, sat on the front seat. roy got in behind in the tonneau while the messenger took his seat by the chauffeur. he said something in a low whisper to the driver and the next instant there was a grinding whirr as the gears were connected and the car rolled forward. "well, they've got a good fast car here," thought roy, as the machine sped along over the roads. "at this rate we ought to be at the grounds in----" but what was this? surely the road they were on was not the right one. leaning forward he touched the chauffeur on the shoulder. "this isn't the road to the grounds," he said. "oh, yes it is," put in the messenger; "it's a short cut, though. isn't it, fred?" the chauffeur did not speak but merely nodded his head. although by no means satisfied with the explanation, roy made no immediate comment. in the meantime they had passed the outskirts of the little town and were now whizzing along an unlighted road bordered with big trees. on and on they went, and roy, every minute, grew more uneasy. where could they be taking him? "where are you going?" he demanded suddenly, his suspicion showing in his tone as he rose in the tonneau and leaned forward. "i want you to know that----" but before he could utter another word the blue-chinned messenger did an astonishing thing. with a quick, imperceptible movement he produced a revolver and thrust its gleaming barrel up under roy's nose. "sit back and keep quiet," he warned, "and you'll be all right. if you make a holler you'll get what's in this barker." as he spoke the auto began to slow down, and presently a dark form stepped from the shadows of the trees ahead and stood awaiting its coming. chapter xvi. the enemy's move. roy's first feeling was one of indignation at the fellow's impudence. "what do you mean by such conduct," he blurted out angrily. "take me to the aviation grounds at once, or----" "that's just where we are taking you away from, young fellow," sneered the man behind the pistol. "ah! don't move. i'm very nervous and if i get excited this pistol might go off. it's very light on the trigger." as he spoke the auto slowed down almost to a standstill, and the man who had evidently been waiting for it, swung himself on the running board and joined the others on the front seat. like the driver, he wore a motoring mask and goggles which effectively concealed his features, and yet to roy there was something familiar even about the muffled up figure. once the third man was aboard, the auto plunged forward once more at breakneck speed. it rocked from side to side on the rough road as it flew along. but the man with the pistol kept his weapon levelled at roy throughout all its jouncings and joltings. like a wise boy, roy had concluded that it would be worse than foolish to attempt any resistance to his abductors. so he sat motionless and silent as the car tore onward through the night. he had not the least idea where they were, nor for what place they could be bound. nor had he yet had time to think over the reason for this bold kidnapping. now, however, it was plain that the object of the trip was to take him to some place and hold him prisoner till the aero race was over. it struck him with cruel force that, unless he could manage to escape, the object of the expedition seemed very likely to prove successful. all at once the car struck a bump in the road with a violent wrenching thud. it leaped into the air like a live thing while a frightened shout burst from the throats of the men on the front seat. mechanically roy gripped the sides of the tonneau to avoid being thrown out like a missile. the next instant, with a rasping grind and a sickening swaying and jouncing the car tore full tilt down the side of the road, which, at this point, was banked, and fetched up motionless and hub-deep in a pool of dark water. "don't let the kid escape," came a shout from the man who had boarded the car on the roadside, as the auto ceased to move. but before the words had left his lips roy had perceived that the water in the pond was not much more than knee high. quick as a cat he was out of the tonneau before any of the others had time to collect their wits. as the man shouted his warning the lad struck out through the oozy ground, seeking, with every ounce of his strength, to shroud himself in the darkness at the pond edge before the pistol wielder could locate him. but he had not gone more than a few steps when-- bang! a red flash cut the night behind him and a bullet whistled by his ear. "look out, you fool, you don't want to kill him," came a voice behind him. "gid gibbons," flashed through roy's mind. he was almost at a thick clump of alders now. as he heard the splashing of the bodies of the abductors, as they took to the water after him, he plunged into the coppice and pushed rapidly on into its intricacies. shouts and cries came from behind him, and suddenly a blinding shaft of white radiance cut through the blackness. they had turned on the searchlight of the car in a determined effort to locate their escaped prisoner. as the light penetrated among the maze of alder trunks, roy threw himself flat. while his pursuers hunted about, muttering and angrily discussing the situation, he crouched in his shelter, hardly daring to breathe. after what seemed an eternity of suspense he heard one of the men, whose voice he seemed to recognize as that of the pistol carrier, angrily declaiming. "aw, what's ther use, ther kid is a mile off by this time, worse luck." "hush, don't talk so loud," came another voice. "you don't know who may be about." "well, we'd better be getting that car out of the mud and making ourselves scarce," came in the tones which roy was certain were those of gid gibbons. "if there's a hue and cry raised about this and they find that car stranded here they can easy trace us." "that's so," was the response in the voice of jukes dade. "come on, boys, we'll get her out of this confounded slough if we can, and get back to town." the voices died away as they retreated, splashing like water animals through the mud and ooze. as silence fell once more roy straightened up from his unpleasant situation and looked about him. the night was starry, and above his head he could see the dipper. he knew that the outside stars of this constellation pointed to the north star and he soon had the latter located. this gave him the points of the compass, and figuring that acatonick must lie to the east of his present position, he struck out in that direction as nearly as he could. he had no idea of the time, to his great chagrin, for in his haste to obey the forged summons to the flying track he had forgotten to bring his watch. in fact, in his hurry, he had slipped into an old coat, the pockets of which contained nothing more useful to him than a packet of chewing gum. he slipped a wad of this into his mouth to "keep him company" as he expressed it to himself, and grittily went forward. the wood ended presently, and he found himself in a field with woods on all three sides, except that on which the swamp impinged. little as he liked the idea of plunging into pathless woods, with nothing to guide him but the stars, as he glimpsed them through the trees, there was no help for it. go on he must. crossing the field rapidly he soon reached the border of the tangle and entered its black shadows. keeping as straight a line as he could he hastened forward, and to his great delight, soon saw that the trees were beginning to thin out, and that beyond lay, apparently, open country. "hooray, i'm bound to strike a road before long now," thought roy gleefully and quickened his pace. he had not gone more than a few paces, however, when through the trees he heard a strange sound. it was a clinking sound like the rattling of a chain. the boy was bold enough, but the mysterious sound on the edge of that dark wood caused his pulses to beat a bit quicker. what could it be? gradually, as he stood still among the trees, the sound drew closer. "ghosts in story books always clank chains," thought roy, to himself. "now if i believed in such things, i----" he stopped short abruptly, as, from behind a clump of brush in the direction from whence the clanking had proceeded, there suddenly emerged a tall form all in white. "good gracious!" cried roy, considerably startled by the sight of this sudden apparition. "i do believe----" but at the sight of the white form he had involuntarily given a backward step. without the slightest warning he felt the ground suddenly give way under his feet, and his body shot down through space. down, down he shot, a hundred mad thoughts twisting dizzily in his head. all at once his progress was arrested. before he could realize what had happened he felt a flood of icy cold water close over his head and a mighty ringing and roaring in his ears. but roy was used to diving, and he automatically, almost, held his breath till he shot to the surface again. then he extended his hands and found that his fingers encountered a rough stone wall of some kind. "i'm in an old well," gasped the boy as the truth suddenly flashed across him. he looked upward. far above him, as if seen through a telescope, he could see the glittering stars. they were reflected, also, in the agitated water about him. somewhat to his astonishment, for the thought of death itself had been in his mind as he hurtled downward, roy found that he was unhurt. but his present position was by no means one to invite congratulations. at the bottom of an old well in the midst of lonely fields he might stay a long time before rescue would arrive. and in the meantime,--but roy bravely put such thoughts resolutely out of his head, and began to feel about him to see if it was not possible to find some rough places in the sides of the excavation by which he might clamber to the surface. but his fingers only encountered stonework set far too smoothly to be of any service to him. then he suddenly noticed what he had not observed before, and that was that a rope depended from above, trailing its end down into the water. it was too thin to bear his weight, but the boy thought he could utilize it to keep himself above the surface without effort. tying a loop knot in it he thrust an arm through the noose and found that he could sustain himself very comfortably. then he began to shout. loudly at first--and then more feebly as his voice grew tired. but no answering sound came back to him. for the first time since he had found himself in his predicament cold fear clutched at the young aviator's heart. what if nobody heard him and he was compelled to remain at the bottom of the old well? as this thought shot through his mind roy noticed, too, that a deadly chill was beginning to creep up his limbs. he shivered waist deep in the chilly water as if he had an ague. chapter xvii. a coward and his ways. peggy awoke the next day with a feeling of distinct uneasiness. she and her aunt had sat up till after midnight awaiting roy's return, but, as we know, the lad was in a position from which he could not extricate himself. an attempt had been made to communicate with the aviation grounds, but an unlucky aeroplane had blundered against the telephone wire during an afternoon flight, snapping the thread of communication. in spite of the late hour at which they had retired, however, miss prescott and her niece were up betimes. but early as it was they found the little town all astir. excursion trains were already pouring their crowds into the place and the streets were fairly alive with humanity. peggy's first act on awaking was to gaze out of the window, beneath which some fine trees grew. not a breath of wind stirred their leaves. the air was as clear and undisturbed as it was possible for it to be. donning a white duck skirt and a plain shirt waist, and dressing her hair in a becomingly simple style, peggy hastened to the office of the hotel, and going to the telephone switchboard asked the operator to put her in communication with roy's room. but after several minutes spent in a vain attempt to obtain an answer central had to inform the anxious girl that there was no reply. thinking that after his late absence of the night before roy might have overslept, peggy despatched a bellboy to his room. but the report came back that the room was empty and that roy's bed had not been slept in. "see if you can get the executive office on the aviation grounds," said peggy to the 'phone girl. but although the wire had been repaired and communication was easily established, there was no news of roy. worse still for peggy's peace of mind, she learned now, for the first time, that there had been no meeting at the aviation field the night before. "if your brother got a note to that effect it was a forgery," said the official who answered the call. peggy fairly flew upstairs to her aunt's room. rapidly she informed miss prescott of what had happened. "oh, i'm certain now that that hateful fanning harding has something to do with it," she almost sobbed. "hush, dear," said her aunt, although in the gentle lady's breast a great fear had arisen, "everything may be all right. at any rate, i do not believe that any one, no matter how anxious they were that you should not compete in the race, would dare to resort to such methods to keep roy out of the contest." "i don't know so much about that, auntie," rejoined the girl. "i was in our hangar yesterday afternoon and i noticed a horrid looking man prowling about with fanning harding. if it had not been too improbable i should say that i knew the man's face." "my dear!" exclaimed the good lady in astonishment. "well," rejoined peggy with conviction, "i'm almost sure that the man was jukes dade, a workman who once was employed in his laboratory and workshop by my father. he was a skillful mechanic, but dad had to discharge him because he drank fearfully. he swore at the time that he would get even with us in some way. but we never heard any more of him. yet if that really was him with fanning harding yesterday i'm awfully afraid that there is some mischief stirring." "what you say, my dear, makes me also very anxious," responded miss prescott. "perhaps we had better communicate with the police at once." "not yet, aunt," breathed peggy; "you see, roy may turn up in time for the race, and if he does, everything will be all right." "but, peggy----" "on the other hand, if we spread an alarm that he is missing we shall be declared out of the contest." "i see what you mean, my dear," was the response, "and i suppose that what you say is best. i feel positive, somehow, that we shall have news of roy before long, and that no harm has come to him." but the morning wore on, and no word came. in the meantime, every available source of information had been canvassed thoroughly without result. roy prescott had totally vanished; or so it seemed. peggy, as in duty bound, spent all she could spare of the morning at the aviation field, putting the finishing touches on the golden butterfly. the big contest was not to be held till the afternoon, and in the meantime, some of the smaller events were flown off. but peggy was too heartsick to watch the aeroplanes thunder around the course, which was marked out by red and white "pylons" or signal towers. instead, she remained in the hangar and kept a watchful eye on fanning harding, who, with some mechanics and the same man she had noticed about the hangar the day before, was very busy over his machine, apparently. but no one obtained even a glimpse of fanning's air craft, for it was not wheeled out, and, except when one or the other of his party dodged in or out, the doors of his hangar were closed. in the course of the morning fanning's father arrived, and not long after, to peggy's unbounded delight, jess and jimsy and a party of friends drove up to the prescott hangar. "why, peggy, what is the matter with you? you look positively--er--er--dowdy!" exclaimed jess, gazing at her friend after first greetings were over. "and roy, where is roy?" demanded jimsy. "yes, where is he? we want him to explain the points of this gasolene turkey-buzzard to us," cried ed. taylor, one of the gay party. "i expect him here any minute," rejoined peggy, and then drawing jess and jimsy aside she related to them, in a voice that shook in spite of herself, the mysterious occurrences of the night, and roy's total disappearance. "i'm going right over now and ask fanning if he knows anything about it," announced jimsy indignantly as soon as the girl had concluded. "oh, don't, please don't," begged his sister. "i don't think it would be wise to, now," put in peggy. but jimsy was not to be shaken in his purpose. fanning was outside his hangar smoking a cigarette and swaggering about when jimsy approached him. perhaps the self-assertive youth felt a bit alarmed at the look in jimsy's eye as he stepped up, but he assumed an impudent expression and blew out a puff of smoke which he did not try to avert from jimsy's face. "good morning, fanning," said jimsy, bottling up his temper at the other's insulting manners, "can you give me a few minutes of private conversation?" "hum, well i don't know. what's it about?" inquired harding more impudently than ever. "it's about roy, fanning," said jimsy seriously. "i want you to tell me on your word of honor that you don't know where he is." "oh, you do, eh? well, you have an awful nerve to come to me with such questions. how do i know where he is?" this question was somewhat of a poser for jimsy. that impetuous youth had approached the other more or less on an impulse, and now that the direct question was put to him he felt that he could not, for the life of him, put his suspicions into so many words. "well--er--you see," he said somewhat confusedly, "i had an idea that you might have seen him." "well, i haven't, and what's more i don't want to," snapped fanning aggressively. he was quite cool now that he saw that jimsy had nothing definite against him in his mind, but only a vague suspicion. "you really mean that, fanning?" rejoined jimsy earnestly. "his sister is terribly worried. he hasn't been seen since last night." "is that so?" asked fanning with a sudden accession of interest; "then he can't race to-day, can he?" "i wasn't thinking about the race," said jimsy; "it was roy himself i was worrying about." "well, you may as well stop your anxiety," chuckled fanning; "how do you know he isn't off on a little spree, and----" "that's enough, fanning. roy prescott does not do such low-down things. he----" "oh, you mean to imply that i do, eh?" fanning came forward pugnaciously. "i'll tell you what it is, jim bancroft, you just take yourself away from this hangar as quickly as possible. i don't want anything to do with you, do you understand? it's none of my business if roy goes off and forgets to tell you where to find him. how do you know he hasn't gone off with those jewels?" "what do you mean?" jimsy's tone was as angry in reality now as fanning harding's had been for effect a few seconds before. but fanning, in his bitter enmity toward roy, could not see the danger signals in jimsy's honest gray eyes. "what do i mean?" he drawled; "why, just this, that the investigation of the police has taken a new turn in the last few days, and that roy is likely to be arrested within the next twenty-four hours for robbery. i'll bet he got wind of it and skipped out. i'll bet----" "how dare you?" peggy, eyes aflame, stepped up. her bosom heaved angrily. "how dare you say such things? you--you coward." "well, i ain't coward enough to steal a girl's jewels and then----" "hold on there, fanning. stop right there." it was jimsy's turn. but fanning was too much worked up in his vindictive anger to stop. "i won't stop," he shouted. "i'll say it right out. roy prescott is a----" but before he could utter another word jimsy's fist had shot out, and fanning's chin happening to be in the way he felt himself suddenly propelled off his feet and elevated into the air. he sought to recover his balance as he reeled, but his foot caught in a bit of turf, and whirling his arms about like one of those figures on the top of a barn he measured his length. "had enough?" asked jimsy mildly, rolling up his sleeves. "no, you despicable young whelp!" roared fanning, utterly throwing aside all prudence. "i haven't." he leaped to his feet and rushed toward jimsy. as he did so jess gave a shriek. in the angry, half-crazed youth's hand there glistened a long clasp knife. "jimsy! look out!" cried the girl. but before the frenzied fan could spring upon jimsy, who was utterly unprepared for the production of the deadly weapon, a dainty foot in white canvas outing shoes and silk stockings flashed out from under peggy's skirt. it caught fanning as he sprang, and the next instant, for the second time that day, he fell sprawling on the ground. chapter xviii. the daring of peggy. by the time he had risen to his feet several of the officials of the track were seen approaching, and fanning, with a scowl of deep disgust at our party, who paid little attention to him, shuffled off. at first peggy thought that the officials had seen something of the trouble and would be angry. but it turned out that they were only coming to announce a few minor changes in the rules governing the race, and to distribute printed copies of the same. as they passed on one of them turned and remarked casually: "by the way, as the wind is so light we have decided to have the big contest an hour earlier than was announced, and eliminate the girls' contest, so that everybody can get home from the grounds in good time for dinner." he hastened on to join his companions on their journey down the line of hangars, outside of which aeroplanes were sputtering and smoking, and excited aviators and mechanics hustling about. all at once a big biplane was wheeled out and soared into the air. it carried a blue and gold streamer. "that's steiner of the agassiz high school in new york city," explained jimsy; "he's confident of winning the big prize." peggy made some reply. she didn't know just what. her mind was throbbing with the idea that roy's inexplicable absence meant that harm had come to him, and that even if he were safe the advancing of the hour of the race would put them out of it if he did not make haste. "look, there goes banker of the philadelphia polytechnic, and rayburn of the boston tech," cried jimsy the next instant as a biplane and a graceful white-winged monoplane shot aloft on trial trips, their motors exploding loudly and a tail of blue smoke streaming out behind them. a slight cheer came from the grand stands, which were already beginning to fill, as the boy aviators shot upward. "oh, roy! roy, where are you?" sighed peggy to herself, as she watched the young aspirants for aerial honors swinging around the course. "i'm going over to the stand and 'phone to the police station," said jimsy presently; "they may have news of him over there by this time." "oh, yes, please do," cried peggy, as jimsy hastened off. when he had gone the two girls turned troubled countenances to each other. "you poor honey," cried jess, "i know how you are suffering. but don't worry, peggy, i'm sure it will come out all right." "yes, but--but you don't know what depends on roy's winning this race," cried peggy. "i am sure that some of our rivals in the race--i need not mention who--have something to do with his disappearance." "what do you mean by saying 'a lot depends on it,' girlie?" asked jess, drawing peggy's arm within her own. with brimming eyes peggy told her friend frankly and fully what she had not before, namely, the exact circumstances of the prescott family and the threat which old harding held above their heads. "so, you see, jess," she concluded sadly, "this could not have happened at a worse time for us." "i see that," gently rejoined the other girl, "but listen, dear, you may have a chance to win it after all if you will trust to us to find roy." "trust to you?" repeated peggy in a puzzled tone. "trust to you to find roy?" "yes, my dear, while you--go in and win the race!" "why, what are you talking about?" gasped peggy. "a brilliant idea that has just occurred to me. you are about roy's height, and if your hair was cut short you'd look enough like him to be his twin brother instead of his sister. but that doesn't matter, for you wear goggles and a helmet in driving that thing, anyway, don't you?" "yes. but,--oh, jess, i couldn't do that." "not even for your aunt's sake, peggy, and to show those whom you suspect that they could not put a prescott out of the race, however hard they tried? come into the shed with me. i am going to persuade you, if i can, to do a brave thing." with their arms about each other's waists the girls walked toward the hangar and entered it. as they did so the figure of jukes dade glided from a place of concealment close at hand, and slipping behind some low bushes he gained the rear of the prescott shed unperceived. once there he placed an ear to a crack in the structure, from within which could be heard the murmur of girlish voices. whatever he heard seemed to strike him with astonishment at first and then with a malicious glee. "so," he muttered, "that's your scheme, is it? well, i guess we'll be able to head that off. that aeroplane of yours won't go in that race if i can help it, and even if it did i know enough now to head you off from getting the big prize. that young harding ought to pay me well for this." so saying, jukes dade shuffled off toward fanning's hangar, still chortling evilly to himself. jimsy returned to the shed without any good news. in fact, the doleful expression on his usually merry face would have told them that long before he opened his mouth. in the midst of the general gloom a merry face was suddenly obtruded through the swinging doors. "hullo! hullo! young folks, what's the trouble? you look as if you were going to attend a funeral." they looked up to see the figure of hal homer, clad in white flannels, and with a checked cap on his curly head, standing in the doorway. "can i come in?" he asked, and without waiting for an answer in he came. "oh, mr. homer," cried jess, fairly pouncing on him, "we're so glad you've come; we are in a dreadful fix." "a dreadful fix? why, my dear young lady, i read in the local paper that i bought on my way from the depot that roy's machine, judging from the trials, was going to have things all her own way." "so much so," struck in jimsy, "that it looks as if some of roy's enemies have spirited him away." "what? i'm afraid i hardly understand." the aviation instructor looked at jimsy in a puzzled way, rather as if he thought the youth might be having some fun with him. "no, no, this is serious. i mean it," spoke jimsy quickly. "roy has gone!" "gone!" "yes. he vanished last night. but sit down and we'll tell you all about it. maybe you can help us out." absolutely "flabbergasted," to use his own expression, the good-looking young flying man sank down on an upturned case, while jimsy went on to relate all that had occurred, with peggy every now and then striking in with additions and corrections. another ear also took in the conversation--that of jukes dade--who had seen the arrival of the well-dressed young aviator, and had instantly slipped back to his eavesdropping post to learn what the newcomer's business might be. it might have been an hour later that a chauffeur, summoned by 'phone from the grandstand, brought the bancrofts' car up to the hangar and hal homer, jess and jimsy emerged. "drive to the police station," ordered hal homer as he stepped in, leaving jess and jimsy behind. jukes dade, peering around a corner of the hangar, heard the order and grew pale. "looks bad," he muttered as the car rolled off; "i wonder if they know anything. if they do, i'm off. this isn't a healthy part of the country for jukes dade from the minute that kid is found. he didn't recognize gid or young harding, but he knew me all right. i could tell it by the way he looked at me, and if he's found the first man they'll hunt for is me." with snake-like caution he glided behind the hangar once more. it was not long after this that the golden butterfly was wheeled out by some of the mechanicians attached to the track, whose services were furnished free by the aviation officials. jess and jimsy emerged from the hangar at the same time, in company with a boyish figure in aviator's clothing, leather trousers cut very baggily, fur-lined leather coat and big helmet of leather, well padded, completely obscuring the features. after a few words in a low tone with its companions, this figure clambered lightly into the aeroplane, leaned forward, adjusted some levers, and the next instant, amidst a shout from several hastily gathered onlookers, the golden butterfly skyrocketed upward, her engine roaring like an angry giant hornet. all this was watched by fanning harding, jukes dade, and gid gibbons. "a nice mess you've made of it," growled harding angrily to his companions. "you've succeeded in getting me suspected, and in trouble, while the boy is safe and sound and on the scene." "wonder how he got back," grunted gid speculatively; "he must have looked a sight when he crawled out of that swamp." "say, dade, you'd better be off," said fanning suddenly; "you were the only one of us whose face wasn't covered. he would swear to you." "oh, i ain't worrying yet," grinned dade easily. "you're not, eh? well, you are a cool hand," rejoined gid admiringly. "if i were in your shoes i'd clear out before that aeroplane lands again." "you would, eh?" scoffed dade. "well, what would you say if i told you that that ain't roy prescott in the golden butterfly at all?" "that you were crazy with the heat," was the prompt and impolite answer. "then you'd be crazy yourself. that's his sister in that aeroplane, and if he don't show up in time for the race she's going to fly it herself and win it." if a bombshell had fallen at fanning's feet he could not have been more thunderstruck. but he recovered in an instant. "if she does i'll protest to the judges," he said angrily; "they can't prove that i know anything about her brother's disappearance, and that golden butterfly won't win this race if i can help it." chapter xix. brother and sister. the first gleam of the summer dawn shining into roy's place of imprisonment at the bottom of the old well revealed to him only too clearly into what a trap he had fallen. the well seemed to be about fifty feet or more in depth, and the sides were smooth and slippery. the chill he had felt spreading through his limbs earlier was gone now, but a numb sensation was setting in which did not leave them even when the boy wriggled his legs about. "phew!" thought roy. "i stand a fair chance of being turned into a pollywog or something if i stay here long enough." somehow, with the coming of daylight, the buoyant spirits of youth had returned to the boy and his predicament did not seem nearly so serious as it had during the dark hours. but it was bad enough, as roy realized. from time to time he tried shouting, but no one came to the edge of the well and peered over, although he anxiously kept his eyes riveted on the disc of sky above him. how long this went on roy had no idea, but he had sunk into a sort of semi-doze when a sudden sound aroused him. a tinkling, metallic sound, not unlike the rattling of the chain the night before that had, in reality, caused his trouble. "help! help!" shouted roy. it was perhaps the five hundredth time he had uttered the cry since he had tumbled into the well. but this time there came a response. "what is it? what's the trouble?" the voice sounded rather shaky, and as if the utterer of the words was somewhat scared. "it's a boy who has fallen into the well," shouted roy. "i'm almost exhausted. get me out." a face suddenly projected over the well curb--a face which roy recognized with astonishment as that of old peter bell, the hermit. "mr. bell, it's roy prescott," he shouted; "can you get a rope and get me out?" "good heavens!" cried the hermit; "it's the boy whose sister was so kind to me. however did you--but never mind that now. can you hold on for a time?" "yes, but my strength is almost gone." "well, summon up all your courage. there is a farm house not far off. i'll go there and get a rope and be back as quick as i can." without wasting more words the old man hastened to his little cart. he had been out since dawn gathering herbs and roots and had taken a short cut home through the field in which the old well was located. muttering excitedly to himself, he climbed somewhat stiffly into his rickety conveyance and urged his old horse forward with gently spoken commands. as the animal broke into a trot the little bell about its neck began to jangle not unmusically. this was the sound which, fortunately for him, had notified roy that some human being was at hand. in the near distance, half hidden in trees, could be seen the red-roofed gable of a farm house. toward this old peter bell directed his way. farmer ingalls was only too glad, when he heard of the accident, to secure a long rope, used in hoisting hay to the top of his big barns. "bless my soul!" he exclaimed, "a lad tumbled into my well! mommer," turning to a motherly-looking, calico-clad woman, "you always told me to cover that well up, and i never did, and now thar's a poor young chap tumbled into it." "hurry," urged old peter bell; "he was almost exhausted, poor lad. we must get back as quick as possible." summoning his two hired men the farmer set off at a run across the fields, easily keeping pace with old peter's decrepit horse. as they neared the well they began shouting, and a feeble cry from the depths answered them. "cheer up, my lad, we'll have you out of that in a brace-of-shakes," cried farmer ingalls encouragingly, as they reached the curb and peered over into the dark hole. "i hope you will," cried roy. "it's getting pretty monotonous, i can tell you." "don't know what mon-ount-on-tonous means, but i'd hate to change places with you," agreed the farmer. presently the rope came snaking down, with a loop in its lower end. roy was directed to place his foot in the loop and hold on tight. when this had been done he shouted up: "all right! haul away!" the stalwart farmer and his two assistants began to heave with all their might, while old mr. bell encouraged them. before long, by dint of hard exertions, they succeeded in dragging roy to the surface, and dripping and shivering he could stand once more in the blessed air and sunlight. "but how in the world did you come to get in there?" asked the farmer, as he paced along by the side of the hermit's little cart, in which the half-exhausted roy had been placed. "well," said the lad with a rather shamefaced laugh, "i'm really half ashamed to say. but it was this way. some bad men who have an interest in putting me out of an aeroplane contest, of which mr. bell knows, had run off with me in an automobile. it was wrecked, and i escaped. i struck out toward town, as i thought, but as i came through that patch of woods by the wall i saw something that startled me so much that i stepped back and fell down the well." "what did you see, my lad?" asked the farmer with half a twinkle in his eye. "something like a story-book ghost," smiled roy; "it was tall and all in white and clanked a chain." "ha! ha! ha!" roared the farmer; "i half suspected as much. why, that ghost was my old white mule boxer. he managed somehow to snap his chain last night and we found him careening around the fields this morning. don't color up, my boy," for poor roy's face had turned very red, as the hired men guffawed loudly; "older men than you have been startled at far less. and now, here's the farm, and i'll bet mommer has a fine breakfast all ready for you." the half-famished boy ate hungrily of the substantial farmhouse fare mrs. ingalls provided for him, and as he ate he made inquiries about the distance to the aviation grounds, which, he found to his dismay, were further distant than he had imagined. "i'll never be able to make it in time without an automobile," moaned roy to himself; "what shall i do?" he cast about in his mind for some way out of his difficulty, but he could find none. nor could the farmer help him. there were no automobiles in that part of the country, and in a horse-drawn vehicle he would never be able to make it in time. all at once a queer sound filled the air. the atmosphere seemed to vibrate with it as it does on a still summer day when a threshing machine is buzzing away in a distant field. "land o' goshen, what's that?" cried mrs. ingalls running to the door. "lish! lish! come here quick!" she shouted the next instant. followed by the old hermit and roy, mr. ingalls ran to the door. but his exclamations at the sight he saw were drowned by roy's amazed cry: "it's the golden butterfly!" "an aeroplane!" shouted the farmer. "by gosh, she's like a pretty bird." "it's my--our aeroplane," went on roy; "who can be in it? oh, if it's only peggy i may not be too late after all." he ran out into the door yard of the farm house and, snatching off his coat, began waving it desperately. would the occupant of the aeroplane see his frantic signals? with a beating heart roy watched the winged machine as it droned far above him. all at once he gave a delighted shout. the aeroplane was beginning to descend. down it came in big circles, while the farmer, his wife and the old hermit gazed open mouthed at it, as if half inclined to run. but as it drew closer to the ground roy noted a puzzling thing. a helmeted and goggled person was driving it, evidently a boy or man and not peggy at all. who could it be? for an instant a queer thought flashed through his head. possibly somebody had stolen it and was making off across country with it so as to put it out of the race. more and more rapidly the aeroplane began to drop as it neared the ground, and before many minutes it alighted in the patch of meadow in front of the farm house, gliding gracefully for several feet before it stopped. but the rubber-tired landing wheels had not ceased revolving before roy was at its side. "say, who are you, and what are you doing with my aeroplane?" he demanded in heated tones, for the helmeted aviator had not yet even deigned to notice him, but seemed to be busy with various levers and valves. "well, are you going to answer me?" sputtered roy, while the farmer, his wife, the old hermit and the hired men gazed on curiously. for answer the mysterious aviator raised his helmet and a cloud of golden curls fell about a milk-and-roses face. "by gum, a gal and a purty one!" cried the farmer capering about. "peggy!" shouted roy. "yes, peggy," cried the girl. "oh, roy, what has happened to you? when you didn't come back jess and jimsy persuaded me to put on your clothes and at least try the butterfly out. but i was so miserable that i could not try her out on the track, so i flew off across country. i saw you waving far below me and--oh, roy!" peggy could go no further and half collapsed in roy's arms as he tenderly lifted her out. "great hopping water millions!" cried the farmer, "if this ain't a day of wonders. this must be ther lad's sister he told us about, and ter think she come flopping down out of ther sky like a seventeen-y'ar locust." peggy was quickly her usual strong, self-reliant self again. with indignation blazing in her kind eyes she heard roy's account of the happenings of the night. at its conclusion she announced with decision: "we must defeat them, roy." "yes, but how? there's only a scant half hour before starting time if you said they'd changed it." "even so you can make it. you must take these clothes, get into the aeroplane and fly back to the track. if you go alone the 'plane will be light and you can make it in time." "but you, peggy?" "i guess i can borrow a dress from mrs. ingalls here," said the girl briskly. "of course, you kin," put in mrs. ingalls, but surveying her own ample form rather doubtfully the while. "you kin give her one of daughter jenny's dresses," said the farmer. "then that is settled, thanks to you," said peggy with characteristic decision. they all entered the farm house, from which, a few seconds later, roy emerged, clad in the garments his sister had donned a short time before. he climbed into the aeroplane amid the admiring comments of the farm hands, who, by this time, had come in from the fields, drawn by the wonderful airship, and stood all about it gaping and wondering. peggy, in a dress belonging to the farmer's daughter, who was away on a visit, stepped quickly to roy's side as, after glancing at the clock attached to the front of the aeroplane, he started the engine. as it started its uproarious song, the farm hands jumped back in affright. but peggy clasped her brother's hand. "win that prize, roy," she said. "i'll do my best, little sister." and that was all, but as peggy prescott gazed a few minutes later at the fast diminishing form of the speeding aeroplane she felt that all she had braved and dared that day had not been in vain. chapter xx. in the nick of time. excitement had reached its topmost pitch on the aviation field. it was but a few minutes to starting time for the great contest, and already four young aviators had their winged craft in line before the judge's stand. engines were belching clouds of acrid blue smoke heavily impregnated with oily, smelling fumes. the roar of motors shook the air. folks in the grandstand and on the crowded lawns excitedly pointed out to one another the different machines, all of which bore large numbers. excited officials, red-faced and perspiring, bustled about importantly, while from the top of the judge's stand a portly man bellowed occasional announcements through a megaphone. suddenly he made an announcement that caused a hum of interest. "machine number seven--mach-ine num-ber sev-en! fanning harding, owner, has withdrawn from the race," he announced. a buzz of comment went through the crowd. jess, jimsy and hal homer, standing in a group by the empty prescott hangar, exchanged astonished glances as they heard the news. what did that mean? fanning had been swaggering about, boasting of his wonderful aeroplane, and now it appeared at the eleventh hour he had decided not to enter it. "must have had an accident," opined jimsy. "maybe he gave it one of those pleasant looks of his," suggested jess. "wherever can peggy be," exclaimed the girl the next minute; "she's been gone for more than an hour. i do hope nothing has happened to her." "not likely," rejoined jimsy, although he looked a little troubled over the non-appearance of the golden butterfly. "the police said they had a dragnet out in every part of the vicinity," volunteered hal homer, who had returned only a few minutes before from the station house. bang! a bomb had been shot skyward and now exploded in a cloud of yellow smoke. "three minutes to starting time," cried hal homer anxiously; "where can miss prescott be?" "look!" cried jess suddenly, dancing about. "oh, glory! here she comes!" far off against the sky a speck was visible. rushing toward them at tremendous speed it swiftly grew larger. the crowd saw it now and great excitement prevailed. the word flew about that the machine was the missing number six. would it arrive in time to participate in the start and thus qualify? this was the question on every lip. hal homer jumped into the auto and sped over to the judge's stand. "can't you delay the start for five minutes?" he begged. "impossible," was the reply. "but that aeroplane, number six, has been delayed by some accident. if you start the race on time it may not arrive in time to take part." "can't be helped. young prescott--that's the name of the owner, isn't it?--shouldn't have gone off on a cross country tryout." back to the hangar sped hal, where jess and jimsy, almost beside themselves with excitement, were watching the homing aeroplane. "she'll be on time," cried jimsy as the graceful ship swept over the distant confines of the course and came thundering down toward the starting point. a great cheer swept skywards as the aeroplane came on. "she'll make it." "she won't." "where has the thing been?" "why is it so late?" these and a hundred other questions and remarks went from mouth to mouth all through the big crowd. "it's all off," groaned jimsy suddenly. he had seen the signal corps man, whose duty it was to fire the bombs, outstretching himself on the ground awaiting the signal to touch off the starting sign. but even as jimsy spoke, the golden butterfly made a swift turn and, amid a roar from the crowd, shot whirring past the grandstand and alighted in front of the stand on the starting line. hardly had the wheels touched the ground before the judge in charge of the track raised his hand. a flag fell and the signal corps man jerked his arm back, firing the bomb that announced the start. b-o-o-o-o-m! as the detonation died out the aeroplanes shot forward, rising into the still air almost in a body, like a flock of birds. it was a spectacle never to be forgotten, and the crowd appreciated it to the full. but up in the grandstand, in inconspicuous places, sat three persons who did not look as well pleased as those about them. "so the girl is going to take a chance," muttered fanning harding; "well, so much the worse for her. if she wins i'll put in a protest and compel her to unmask." "won't that prescott and bancroft bunch be astonished when they find out that we are on to their little game," chuckled jukes dade; "it'll be as good as a play." "that's what it will," grinned gid. "they'll find out that they can't humiliate me and not suffer for it," grated out fanning. "wonder where that girl went to on her tryout spin?" inquired dade. "it doesn't make much difference where, but she certainly came back with a grandstand play," rejoined gid. "well, if she wins the race it will be our turn," fanning assured him. they then turned their attention to the contest, two laps of which had been made while they were talking. number one, a small white bleriot type of monoplane, seemed to be making the pace for the rest, and word flew about that it had gained half a lap on number four, its nearest competitor so far. "but it will be a long contest," said the wiseacres in the crowd, "and accidents may happen at any time." on the fourth lap number one was seen to descend over by the hangars. something had gone wrong with its lubricating valve. by the time the difficulty was adjusted it was hopelessly out of the race. number three was the next to drop out. this machine was driven by one of the high school lads, and his contingent of rooters in the grandstand set up a woeful noise as he dropped to earth in the middle of the course. a broken stay had made it dangerous for him to remain longer in the air. this left number six, the prescott machine, numbers two, four and five still in the air. "number six has gained a lap on number five!" went up the cry presently as number five, so far the leader, was seen to lose speed on the fifteenth lap. the golden butterfly was in truth doing magnificently, but try as her operator would it did not seem possible to shake off number five, another high school boy's machine, which clung persistently to its stern. number four alighted for more gasolene on the twentieth lap and lost a round of the course thereby. a few seconds later number two was also forced to descend with heated cylinders. this practically left the race between number five and the golden butterfly. round and round they tore, neither of them gaining or losing a foot apparently. the thunder of their engines grew deafeningly monotonous and the crowds watched them as if hypnotized by the whirring aerial monsters. all at once, though, a mighty roar proclaimed that something was happening, and gazing down toward the further end of the track it could be seen that number six, the golden butterfly, had made a daring attempt to gain on the other machine, and had succeeded. so close did the two aeroplanes edge to the end pylon in the effort to secure the inside plane that for an instant it looked as if a crash must result. a thunder of cheers greeted the golden butterfly as she swept by the grandstand on the next lap. "that girl can drive all right," grudgingly admitted fanning harding. "yes, and she's pretty as a picture, too," put in gid gibbons; "guess you were stuck on her once, weren't you, fan?" "oh, shut up," growled fanning angrily. "it makes no difference to you, does it?" the aeroplanes had been racing for an hour now, and neither showed any signs of slacking speed. on the contrary, as they "warmed up," they seemed to go the quicker. all at once an incident occurred which brought the crowd to its feet yelling and cheering as if wild. the driver of number five, as the two machines passed the grandstand, had made a deliberate attempt to prevent the golden butterfly overhauling him by jamming his aeroplane over toward a pylon and directly in front of the butterfly. for an instant it looked as if a crash must be inevitable, but just as the spectators were beginning to turn pale and the more timid to hide their eyes, the butterfly was seen to make a graceful dip and dive clean under the other aeroplane. it was a magnificent bit of aerial driving, and the crowd appreciated it to the full. a roar and a shout went up, to which the driver of number six responded with a wave of a gloved hand. ten minutes later number five, two laps behind, and with a leaking radiator, dropped out of the race, leaving the golden butterfly the winner. fanning harding was white as a sheet as he saw an official with a black and white checkered flag step out into the field. this was the signal to the golden butterfly, which was still in the air, that the race was over. as the prescott aeroplane dropped to earth in front of the grandstand amid rapturous plaudits, the son of the sandy bay banker deliberately arose and made his way toward the judges' stand, to which hal homer and the bancrofts, the core of a shouting, yelling mob of enthusiasts, were already conducting the daring driver of number six. special policemen made a path for the aviator and his friends, while cries of: "take off your helmet!" "we want to see you!" "what's the matter with number six?" and a hundred other cries arose. but the driver of number six did not respond, and with his helmet still on his head was conducted before the judges to receive their congratulations. the helmet was still in place when fanning harding came shoving through the crowd and finally reached the little group. "as a competitor i demand that number six take off his helmet!" he cried. the judges turned to him in astonishment. "this is most unseemly, sir," said one of them; "no doubt in good time mr. prescott will take off his helmet." "oh, no, he won't," shouted fanning, at whom all the group was now gazing. "he won't, i tell you, and for a good reason, too. _that's not roy prescott at all, but his sister peggy._" but the words had not left his lips before jimsy, with a quick motion, jerked off the aviator's helmet and disclosed the handsome, perspiring features of roy himself. in the few minutes he had had, roy had found time briefly to explain how he and his sister had changed garments. "well, i guess that settles that question," cried jimsy triumphantly, as a mighty shout went up. "it certainly does," said one of the officials. "where is that young scamp? officer, find the young man who made that accusation and bring him here to explain himself." but the disgruntled fanning had dived off into the crowd the instant he saw into what a tremendous blunder he had fallen. and although a strict search was made for him he was not to be found. chapter xxi. the phantom airship. in the midst of the hum and excitement and the crossfire of questions which immediately followed, there occurred a startling interruption. from the further side of the grounds there arose a cry, which swelled in volume as it advanced. "fire! one of the hangars is on fire!" the group immediately broke up and orders and commands flew thick and fast. in the midst of the excitement roy and his chums found an opportunity to slip away. "there's the fire. off by our hangar!" shouted hal homer, pointing across the field. by the side of the prescott's green aero shed a big cloud of smoke was ascending, mingled with yellow flames. it seemed to be a hot blaze. "it's fanning harding's hangar!" cried roy suddenly; "come on, let's go over and see what the matter is." "i've got the car right here," said jimsy. "i'll get you over in a jiffy." soon they were speeding across the field toward the blaze. in the meantime an emergency fire corps, composed of men employed on the grounds, had attached a line of hose to a hydrant and were drenching the flames. such good work did they do that it was not long before they had the fire under control. as soon as it was out our party, which had managed to get through the lines formed to keep back the curious, gazed into the ruins with some interest. "why, say!" cried jimsy suddenly, "the place was empty." "so it was!" cried roy in astonished tones, "except for that big box kite over in the corner there. whatever kind of a game of bluff has fanning harding been playing?" "i guess i can imagine it," struck in hal homer. "from what you have told me his little game was to bluff you into thinking he had a fine airship that could beat yours, and in that way induce you to sell out to him." "by george, i never thought of that!" exclaimed roy, "but--hullo, here comes peggy in the farmer's wagon!" he ran through the crowd to the side of the wagon, which had been driven in by farmer ingalls. "you dear, dear boy, i've heard all about it already," cried peggy, throwing her white arms about roy's neck, while miss prescott, whom they had picked up at the hotel, sat by, hardly knowing whether to laugh or to cry, as she expressed it later. i am not going to describe that reunion by the side of fanning harding's burned hangar, but each reader can imagine for herself what a joyous one it was. "i know a place in town where they sell the bulliest sodas and sundaes," cried jimsy suddenly. "everybody come up there in the car and we'll celebrate!" "in one moment, jimsy," said roy. "there's one thing still i don't understand about this whole business, and that is this. it is clear enough that fanning harding was bluffing about having an aeroplane in that shed, but how was it that he made a night ascent with red and green lanterns?" "oh, you mean the time you saw him in the air at night, the time we went to washington?" asked jimsy. "that's it. how do you account for it?" "give it up," rejoined the other lad. "perhaps this may help to explain it." hal homer came up carrying two much scorched lanterns he had found in the debris of the hangar. one was red, the other was green. "i don't quite see," said peggy, but hal, with an apology interrupted her. "it's plain as day to me," he said; "these two lanterns attached to that big box kite on a breezy night would certainly give any one the impression that an aeroplane was sailing about. harding knew you would be flying home in that vicinity on that night and rigged up this contrivance to delude you." "a phantom airship!" cried peggy. "that's about the size of it," put in the slangy jimsy, "and i think that friend homer here has hit on the correct solution." "but if that were so, why did fanning fit up a shop out at gid gibbons's place?" asked jess in a puzzled tone. "i guess that shop had no more in it than this hangar," was roy's reply. "gid gibbons is a bad character who would do anything for money, and i think it likely that he fell in with harding's schemes because he had no great liking for any of us." "looks that way," agreed jimsy. "but that doesn't explain that ruby which hester was wearing," thought peggy to herself as the laughing party of young folks drove off up the town, followed by farmer ingalls and his good wife, who had been invited to take part in the little celebration of their triumph. here and there they were recognized and cheered, but among the crowds on the sidewalks all discussing the thrilling race, there were three that took no part in the good-natured jubilation. who these were we can guess. jukes dade at fanning's side had to listen to some savage abuse as they slunk along, avoiding as far as possible the crowds. "i told you to burn up the hangar so that there would be no trace left of the bluff we had been putting up," he growled. "well, didn't i soak the place with gasolene," protested dade; "how was i to know a kid would come along and give the alarm before it got fairly alight?" "it's been a dismal failure all the way through," lamented harding, as if he had been engaged on some praiseworthy enterprise. "incidentally," purred jukes dade, but with a menace under his silky tones, "i'd like to see some of that money you've been promising me all along." "you'll have to wait till i see my father," snapped out fanning savagely. "well, see him quick then, or i may have to take other means of getting it," snarled dade. "what do you mean?" "why, by telling a few things i know. about the loss of a certain lady's jewels, for instance." fanning went white as ashes. "you sneak! you've been listening at keyholes!" he cried. dade returned him look for look defiantly. "well, what if i have?" he snarled. "i've got a hold on you now, master harding. i've got you where i want you and i'm going to keep you there." chapter xxii. jim bell of the west. some days after the events described in the last chapter, and following the receipt by roy of a pink check for $ , . , a strange visitor arrived at the prescott home--their very own home now, for the mortgage had been paid off, much to mr. harding's disgust. the stranger was a bronzed man and wore a broad-brimmed sombrero which would have marked him anywhere as a westerner. of miss prescott, who, in a new lavender silk dress, came to the door, he inquired if he could see mr. roy prescott. miss prescott smiled at this ceremonial way of mentioning her young nephew, but directed the stranger with the breezy western manner to the workshop at the rear of the house, where roy and peggy were "fussing," as jess called it, with their beloved golden butterfly. "good morning," he said, doffing his sombrero with a sweep and a flourish; "can i have a word with you?" "certainly. two or three if you want them," rejoined roy, while peggy gazed in some surprise at the queer-mannered newcomer. "the fact is," went on the stranger, "that i'm in the market for aeroplanes such as yours. i happened to be on the train some nights ago when you came flying through the air with two belated young passengers. well, sir, thinks i, if such a machine can make a train on schedule time it ought to be good for other purposes. i took the liberty of making some inquiries about you from your two young friends after the train had started, but asked them not to mention the matter to you yet awhile. "in new york i looked up my partner and we discussed the plan and he agreed with me that it was a good one. now, i'm down here this morning to offer you $ , outright for the use of half a dozen of your aeroplanes, and a salary of $ , as instructor to the aviators i shall have to have to run them. how does the offer strike you?" "i--er--well, i hardly know what to say," responded roy; "you see, it's a bit sudden. it rather takes my breath away." "well, that's a way we have in the west," was the response, "but maybe i'd better tell you a little more about myself. my name is jim bell. i'm worth a couple of million or thereabouts. you can verify that by referring to the first national bank of 'frisco, or the east coast bank of new york city. i've got interests in cattle, wool and mines, but the very best mining proposition i ever struck i ran across out on the nevada alkali desert in a range of barren hills. we were prospecting there when i was told about it. after untold hardships i found the spot and staked it out. but there arose the difficulty of transportation. there was the gold all right, but how was i to get it out?" "i came east to see if i couldn't get some sort of automobile built that would travel the desert, but when i saw that aeroplane of yours droop down at that jerkwater junction, i realized i had found what i wanted. now, are you on?" "you'll have to give us a little time to think, sir," rejoined roy; "it's a very flattering offer and i'd like to accept it, but i'll have to think it over." "quite right, quite right," rejoined the other, "nothing like thinking it over. if every one did that fewer accidents and mishaps would occur in life. take my own life, for instance. i've often thought i'd go back to see the old folks, but in that case i thought it over too long, for when i went to the old home the other day it was all gone. not a stick or stone remained. my parents were dead and my only brother was no-one-knew-where." jim bell's voice shook strangely. he blinked his eyes once or twice and then resumed briskly: "you see, i left home in a mighty queer way. i was out in a boat with my brother when it got overturned. he was drowned, i guess, but anyway i found myself drifting about on the sound. i managed to seize hold of a bit of floating driftwood and in that way kept my head above water till a ship came along and picked me up. "she was a big vessel bound for china and her captain was a brute. on our arrival in the far east he bound me out as a sort of apprentice to a rich chinaman living in the interior. i was with him for ten years before i escaped. i worked my way to the coast, got another ship and headed for california. "on the way across there was a mutiny and i saved the life of a wealthy passenger, who turned out to be a mining man and who, when he died two years later, left me most of his property. that gave me my start in life, and now i'm a millionaire. but i'd give it all if i could get some news of poor brother peter and find out if he is dead or alive." "maybe we can help you," cried peggy, her eyes shining and her white hands clasped excitedly. while the rugged westerner had been talking the story of the old hermit came back to her. "what do you mean?" asked the other; "do you know where my brother is?" "i'm not certain," cried peggy, "but the old hermit, peter bell, is he almost beyond a doubt." "my brother a hermit!" cried the wealthy mining man. "if it is your brother," put in roy, "i hope for your sake it is. but his story tallies absolutely with yours. he told us that after he had missed you in the water he thought that you were drowned. returning home he was shunned on every side, for the villagers accused him of having deserted you to save his own life." "my poor peter," breathed the miner. "miserable and made morose by the contempt he met with on every side he became a hermit and now lives in a hut near the town of acatonick." "how long does it take to get there? i must lose no time in finding out," exclaimed jim bell. "you can get there in two or three hours from here if you can catch a train," said roy. "if you like i'll phone for you and find out." "say, boy, that would be mighty white of you. i tell you it hurts to think of poor peter living all alone like that in poverty while i've been rich all these years. but it wasn't for lack of trying to locate him, for i've advertised and had detectives searching every likely place." roy found that there would be a train to acatonick in about half an hour, and their new found friend hastened off, after warm farewells, to catch it. he promised to be back within a few days and let them know of his success, and also inform them of any further arrangements he might be prepared to make about his offer. "well," said roy, after he had gone, "the skies are beginning to clear, sis." peggy sighed. "yes, but there is still one thing to be cleared up, roy," she said. "i know--the disappearance of those jewels," rejoined roy. "oh, if only we had something more to go upon than mere suspicions." "perhaps we will have before long," said peggy, musingly. chapter xxiii. like thieves in the night. "heard anything of fanning harding?" asked jimsy, one bright morning, as he stopped his car at the prescotts' gate and he and jess got out. "not a thing since that day at acatonick," responded roy, who with his sister had hastened to meet the other two. "why, jess, how charming you look this morning." "meaning that you notice the contrast with other mornings," laughed jess merrily; "oh, roy, you are not a courtier." "no, i guess not yet--whatever a courtier may be," was the laughing rejoinder; "but i always like to pay deserved compliments." "oh, that's better," cried jess; "but have you heard anything more from mr. bell?" for, of course, jimsy and jess by this time knew about the visit of the mining man. mr. bancroft had looked up his standing and character and had found both of the highest. on his advice roy had about decided to accept the unique offer made him by the western millionaire. peggy shook her head in response to jess's question. "no, dear, not one word," she said; "isn't it queer? however, i guess we shall, before long. oh, i do hope that that poor old hermit turns out to be mr. jim bell's brother." "so do i, too," agreed jimsy. "it would be jolly for you and roy to think that you and your aeroplane had been the means of righting such a succession of mishaps." "indeed it would," agreed peggy, warmly; "but now come into the house and have some ice cream. it's one sign of our new prosperity that we are never without it now." "i've eaten so much of it i'm ashamed to look a freezer in the face," laughed roy, as they trooped in, to be warmly welcomed by miss prescott. in the midst of their merry feast the sound of wheels was heard and a rig from the station drove up. out of it stepped a venerable old gentleman in a well-fitting dark suit, with well blackened shoes and an altogether neat and prosperous appearance. peggy and jess who had run to the window at the sound of wheels saw him assisted to the ground by a younger man whom they both recognized with a cry of astonishment. "mr. jim bell. but who is the old gentleman?" "why it's--it's the hermit!" cried roy. "good gracious, is that fashionable looking old man a hermit?" gasped jimsy. "he was, i guess, but he won't be any more," laughed peggy, happily, as she tripped to the door to welcome the visitors. the prescotts had a maid now; but peggy preferred to be the first to greet the newly united brothers for it was evident that jim bell's quest had been successful. what greetings there were to be sure, when the two brothers were inside the cool, shady house! the old hermit's eyes gleamed delightedly as he gallantly handed miss prescott to a chair. as for jim bell, he was happy enough to "dance a jig," he said. "i'll play for you, sir," volunteered jimsy, going toward the piano. "no, no," laughed jim bell; "i'm too old for that now. but not too old for peter and i to have many happy days together yet, eh, peter?" he turned tenderly toward the old man whose eyes grew dim and moist. "i wish dad and mother could see us now," he said, sadly, as his thoughts wandered back over the long bitter years he had spent in solitude. "perhaps they can," breathed peggy, softly; "let us hope so." "thank you," said the old hermit, with a sigh. but the conversation soon turned to a merrier vein. and then it drifted into business. mr. bancroft happened to stop in on his way into town and after a long talk with jim bell he seriously advised roy to accept the mining man's proposal. "i'll put you up a factory any place you say," said the millionaire, "and you can turn out all that we require. i've a notion, too, that they might be used as general freight carriers over arid stretches of country where there are no railroads, and feed and water for stock is scarce." "not a doubt of it," said mr. bancroft. before he left the preliminary papers had been drawn up and signed, and roy prescott found himself fairly launched in business. but in all this success he did not forget how much he owed to peggy. recent events had softened the boy's character and reduced his conceit wonderfully. "i owe it all to you, little sis," he said that evening. "i don't know about all," cried jimsy, who was present; "but you do owe a whole lot to her, old man, and i'm glad to see you acknowledge it at last." "i always have," cried roy, turning rather red, though. "hum," commented jimsy; "i'm not so sure about that." but peggy put her hand over his mouth and it took jimsy what seemed an unduly long time to remove it. as for jess, she stalwartly declared that if it hadn't been for peggy there would have been no golden butterfly, no five thousand dollar prize, and, as she said, "no nothing." but to this loyal little peggy would not assent. in her eyes roy would always remain the most wonderful brother in the world. soon after this jimsy and jess took their leave and it was not long before the last light was extinguished in the happy little household and deep silence reigned. about midnight, as nearly as she could judge, peggy awoke to find the moonlight streaming into her room and upon her face. "good gracious, i'll get moonstruck," she thought, and throwing on a wrap she went to the window to pull down the shade which had been raised to admit the cool air. the window commanded a view of the workshop, in which the golden butterfly was kept, and peggy, as she looked out, was astonished to see that the door of the work shop which housed the precious craft was open. "goodness!" thought the girl, "how careless of whoever left it that way. the night air will rust the stay-wires and the steel parts of the motor terribly. i guess i had better slip downstairs and close it." partially dressing herself the girl noiselessly tiptoed down the stairs and out into the moonlit night. for one instant she was startled as she thought she saw a dark form dodge swiftly behind a corner of the workshop as she appeared. "i must be getting as nervous as poor roy when the mule frightened him down the well," she thought to herself as she advanced toward the shed. reaching it she raised her hand to shut the door when, to her astonishment, she discovered that it had apparently been locked,--at least a broken bit of the padlock dangling from the portal seemed to indicate this. "somebody's filed that through," was peggy's thought. but before she could make any further investigation a pair of hands grasped her from behind, pinioning her arms to her side. at the same instant an old coat was flung over her head and pulled close, stifling her outcries. "we won't hurt you if you keep quiet," hissed a voice in her ear, "but if you don't, look out for trouble." "what are you going to do?" cried peggy, through the muffling medium of the coat. "you'll soon find out," was the rejoinder. "jukes, bring her inside the shed and keep her quiet." jukes! the name struck a familiar chord in peggy's memory. she knew now why the face and form of the man hanging about fanning's "phantom" hangar at the aviation field had seemed so familiar to her. it _was_ jukes dade, the man her father had peremptorily discharged. peggy could not repress a shudder as she thought of the desperate character of the man. suddenly, as her captors half dragged, half carried her into the workshop, her body grew limp, and she fell in an insensible heap forward. she would have struck the ground had not a pair of hands caught her. "she's fainted," cried jukes, alarmedly. "so much the better," growled out his companion; "she won't give us any trouble now. we can do what we've got to do and get away. got the files?" "here they are," responded jukes; "just let me lay her down here while i hand 'em to you." he deposited peggy's limp form on a long box on which some sacks had been strewn. the next instant the sharp rasping of a file could be heard in the silent workshop. "i guess this golden butterfly will have its wings clipped for some time to come," chuckled jukes' companion, whom peggy, of course, had not yet seen. "i guess that's right," laughed the other; "just wait a jiffy while i lay down this gun of mine and i'll give you a hand." he stepped over and put down a wicked-looking pistol on the rough bench on which peggy lay. then he turned and began to help his companion. the two worked by the light of a dark lantern which they had brought with them on their rascally expedition to ruin the golden butterfly. but suddenly a slight noise behind him made jukes turn his head. as he did so he gave a startled yell. peggy, her eyes bright and wild-looking, was standing up behind them. in her hand was the pistol which jukes had laid down beside her when she had seemed to faint a few moments before. but peggy's faint had been a simulated one. realizing that harm was meant to the golden butterfly, she had imitated unconsciousness as a means to possible escape and giving the alarm. "don't move, either of you," said peggy, in a firm voice. "i'm only a girl, but i can use a pistol." but jukes and his companion, with a wild yell, made a dash for the door. "good gracious, i can't shoot them," thought peggy. "help! help!" she began to cry at the top of her voice. but the next instant the whirr and roar of a motor from the road apprised her that the two rascals had made their escape in an auto and that pursuit was useless. thus it was that when the aroused household came pouring excitedly out of the house they found a brave, if a rather tremulous, girl awaiting them with a pistol in her hand on the stock of which were engraved the initials "f. h." "so that's who jukes's companion was," exclaimed roy, angrily. "oh, if you had only awakened me, sis." "my dear roy," rejoined peggy, with dignity, "don't you think that i am capable of taking care of myself?" chapter xxiv. hester makes amends--conclusion. a few days later peggy borrowed jess's car and went out for a long, lonely spin along the country roads. she wanted to think. roy and jimsy were at home repairing the damage wrought to the golden butterfly, which, it turned out, was very slight. she was driving along a pretty stretch of road when she came across a veritable fairyland of delicate pink wild roses intertwined with honeysuckle and woodbine. "oh," cried peggy, who simply worshipped flowers, "how beautiful; i must take some of these home. they'll make all our garden things look mean and shabby." stopping the car she alighted and was soon deep in her occupation of gathering the fragrant posies. suddenly she was startled by the sound of a sobbing voice close at hand, and the next minute an angry male voice could be heard also. "i tell you i'll do nothing of the sort," the man was saying; "why should i go and own up that i'm a thief or the next thing to it? at any rate they'd have me put in jail for all the attempts i've made to interfere with their aeroplane." "it's fanning harding!" gasped peggy, amazedly, "and hester gibbons," she added the next instant as the girl's voice sobbed out: "well, if you won't, i will. i've been weak and foolish but i'm not wicked. i'm going to tell peggy prescott all about it to-day and ask her to forgive me." "you'd better not," fanning harding's tone was threatening now. "well, what if i do?" "you won't, i tell you. i'll have you locked up and charged with the theft yourself." "you wouldn't dare." "oh, yes, i would. you've got that ruby and that is pretty good proof that you stole it." "it isn't so and you know it. i have been a weak, silly girl, that's all, but i see it all now. and just to think if i hadn't overheard you and my father talking that i might have gone on admiring you." "tell me you won't go to the prescotts with the story or i'll----" "help! help!" the shrill cry came in hester's tones. without quite realizing what she was doing, peggy stooped and picked up a heavy bit of stick that lay in the road beside her. then she stepped forward around a bend which had hitherto hidden the other two from her sight. as she appeared fanning had his hand on hester's wrist and was wrenching it cruelly. "oh! oh! fanning, please let go!" hester was crying. "i will if you'll promise not to tell." "there's no need for her to promise that, fanning," said peggy, "for i have already heard enough for me to know that she has some connection with the disappearance of the bancroft diamonds." "oh, peggy!" cried hester, running to her side. "see here," began fanning, swaggering forward threateningly toward the two girls. "my brother is just 'round that corner," said peggy, boldly; "he'll be here in a minute. if you don't wish to be arrested for what you did the other night you had better get away from here, fanning harding." a scared look crossed fanning's face and he turned and fairly took to his heels. "now, hester," said peggy, kindly, "come with me to my car. it's just 'round the corner." "oh, peggy, i've been a bad, wicked girl, but i'm not a thief. truly i'm not." "i believe that," said peggy, "but what do you know about the disappearance of the diamonds?" "that i have them all here. not one is gone," was the amazing reply, and hester, drawing a handkerchief from her bosom, unfolded it and displayed to peggy's amazed eyes a glittering collection of gems. in the midst of the flashing gems gleamed the big ruby which peggy had once seen hester so carefully conceal. "hester, you have a duty before you," said peggy slowly; "get in my car and come with me to my home and then tell me all about this mystery which has puzzled us so long." but the girl shrank back. "i can't. oh, peggy, with you it's different, but before, the others. your brother----" "poor fellow, he has been under unjust suspicion on account of these very jewels," peggy reminded the agitated girl. "oh, give me time. not now. i----" "no, it must be now," said peggy, with gentle insistence. "come!" something in her manner seemed to strike the girl. "you'll promise no harm will come to me or my father through this?" she said. "is your father very deeply implicated in the matter?" asked peggy seriously, looking straight into the other's eyes. "no. on my word of honor, no," was the response. "then i'll promise," said peggy. "very well, then, i'll tell you all i know about the matter," said hester, as the girls got into the car. an hour later, in the library of the prescott's home, peggy, roy, jimsy and jess were gathered listening to hester's story. her eyes were red from crying and she hesitated frequently, but her manner showed that she was telling the truth. on a table lay the glistening jewels. jess had counted them and found that they were all there. "i didn't find out about the jewels till one night fanning, who has always said he admired me," said hester, with downcast eyes, "gave me that big ruby there. at least he didn't give it to me but he said i could wear it. of course i had heard about the disappearance of the jewels from the auto, but somehow i didn't associate this token of fanning's with it. "it was not till a week ago that i learned the true state of affairs. i overheard a conversation of fanning's with my father in which he threatened him with arrest if he, father, didn't give him some money fanning said he had hoarded up. i knew dad didn't have any and i asked him after fanning had gone to tell me all about it. "he isn't such a bad man at bottom and when i pleaded with him he told me the whole story. on the day of the jewel robbery, for it was a robbery, morgan and giles----" "our butler and groom!" cried jess. "yes. well, they were taking a stroll in the fields and happened along just as the car was wrecked. they knew from servants' gossip that you had been to town to get the gems and when they saw you lying unconscious and the wallet near at hand, the temptation was too much for them and they stole it. "they determined to hide it in some woods near my father's place; but as they entered them fanning harding came along on his bicycle. he saw them enter the woods and became suspicious. leaning his bicycle against a tree he followed them and saw them bury the gems under a tree which they marked. "he noted the tree, too, and then, without their seeing him he remounted his motor-cycle and came on to see my father about that business of the hoax aeroplane. he said he wanted to bluff you into selling the butterfly to him. "well, father agreed, for a fair sum of money, to help him, and we started right into town. at that time i thought it was a good joke, and we were both laughing as we came in sight of the scene of the accident." "so that's what they were laughing at," thought roy, recollecting how mystified he had been when he saw them together. "i don't know whether it was fanning's manner or what," said hester resuming, "but my father began to suspect that he might know something about the jewels, and one day he followed him into the woods when he went to see if the jewels were still under the tree. father made him own up when he caught him red-handed like that, but in the meantime morgan and giles also had arrived. well, the four of them were all equally guilty, so they agreed to stick together and say nothing till the excitement about the loss had blown over. but fanning in the meantime said that he must have the ruby to let me wear. "i guess he wanted to show me that he was as rich as he was always pretending to be. "a few days later they had a terrible fright. morgan, who carried the leather wallet in his pocket for lack of a better place to put it, dropped it on the porch of the bancrofts' house where, as you know, it was found before he realized his loss and could recover it. "when fanning came back from the aviation meet and began boasting of the mean tricks he had played you and how he had kidnapped roy, i began to see what a despicable fellow he was. then, too, he was always threatening dad, and so i decided to make a clean breast of it all and save poor dad any more trouble, for fanning has dictated to him ever since they shared the secret. "i went to the wood and found the marked tree i had heard them talk about so often and with the jewels in my hand i started for your home, peggy, for i didn't dare to go to the bancrofts'. but fanning, it seems, had got suspicious, and followed me. he overtook me at the spot where you encountered us." "does he know you have the jewels?" asked roy. "not yet," rejoined hester; "i believe if he had he would have been violent." "well, hester," said peggy, as the girl concluded her strange narrative, "you have cleared up a puzzling mystery." "did you ever hear such a yarn in all your born days?" asked jimsy. "and every one of the jewels is there," cried jess. "i tell you what i'll do, i'll just call up the house and tell mother about it. won't she be pleased?" but mrs. bancroft was not at home, and---- "oh, miss," gasped the servant, who answered the 'phone, "we're all upset. morgan has run off, miss, and so has giles. they took some of the silver with them. mary and me tried to stop 'em but they pointed a pistol at us and scared us inter high strikes." "i'll 'phone the police at once," cried jess, indignantly. "they might have got off if it hadn't been for that." but although a good description was furnished, morgan and giles were not captured and mr. bancroft was not ill pleased. "they will not venture into this part of the country again," he said, "and we are well rid of such rascals." hester, in whom mrs. bancroft took an interest after the girl had told her with her own lips her strange story, is now at a girls' boarding school, having been sent there at mrs. bancroft's expense. as for fanning harding, his father sent him west soon after the lad's innate rascality had been revealed, and from reports fanning is working hard to redeem the past and make himself a good and useful man. "and so the mystery of the phantom airship and the missing jewels is all cleared up," said peggy to jess one day a short time after the events just described had transpired. "yes," rejoined her chum, "and the air seems clearer and fresher somehow. it is terrible to have a dark cloud of suspicion hanging over one." "it is, indeed," rejoined peggy; "and now, as roy leaves in a few days for the west, let's all take a good long spin. you and i will go in the golden butterfly while the boys can run along below us in the auto." but jess looked a bit doubtful. "wouldn't roy like to go in the aeroplane?" she said. peggy broke into merry laughter. "oh, you sly puss," she exclaimed. "very well, then you and roy in the golden eagle and jimsy and i in the auto." "suits me," cried jimsy, throwing his arm around his sister's waist, "but i thought you were the girl aviator of the family, peggy." "so i am," laughed peggy, "but i am willing to yield my place for once." "well, if you'll excuse my horrid slang," laughed jimsy, "i think i may say we've all been 'up in the air' for the last few weeks. but it's all over now and we'll settle down to humdrum life once more." "it's been jolly, though," protested peggy. "with some parts left out," put in jess. but although no adventures just like those we have related happened again to the girl aviators, they were due to encounter some more strange experiences. in fact, both peggy and roy and their friends were on the brink of some odd happenings, the narration of which must be postponed to another volume of this series. what these complications and adventures, both merry and perilous, proved to be will be set down in full detail in "the girl aviators on golden wings," a breezy tale of our aerial maids. the end. the gay triangle the romance of the first air adventurers. by william le queux published by jarrolds, lonodn. the gay triangle, by william le queux. ________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________ the gay triangle, by william le queux. chapter one. the mystery of rasputin's jewels. from a derelict shed adjoining a lonely road which stretched for miles across the norfolk fens, a strange shape slid silently into the night mist. it was a motor-car of an unfamiliar design. the body, of gleaming aluminium, was of unusual width, and was lifted high above the delicate chassis and spidery bicycle wheels that seemed almost too fragile to bear the weight of an engine. noiselessly the strange car backed out of the shed. there was no familiar _teuf-teuf_ of the motor-engine; so silent was the car that it might have been driven by electricity, save that the air was filled with the reek of petrol. swinging round on the grass of the meadow, the car headed for the gateway, turned into the road, and sped along silently for a few miles. it halted at length at a point where the narrow roadway widened somewhat and ran along an elevated embankment evidently constructed to raise the road above flood-level. as the car came to rest, two leather-helmeted figures descended from the tiny cockpit in the body of it. one was a slim young fellow of twenty-five or twenty-six; the other, despite the clinging motor costume, showed feminine grace in every movement. it was a young girl, evidently in the early twenties. the two set busily to work, and in a few minutes their strange car had undergone a wonderful transformation. from each side shot out long twin telescopic rods. these, swiftly joined together by rapidly unrolled strips of fabric, soon resolved themselves into the wings of a tiny monoplane. from a cleverly hidden trap-door in the front of the car, appeared an extending shaft bearing a small propeller, whose twin blades, hinged so as to fold alongside the shaft when not in use, were quickly spread out and locked into position. a network of wire stays running from the wings to the fuselage of the car were speedily hooked up and drawn taut. then the two mysterious figures climbed again into the transformed car. there was a low, deep hum as the propellers began to revolve, the monoplane shot forward a few yards along the road, then lifted noiselessly, and, graceful and silent as a night-bird, vanished into the shrouding mist. the adventures of the gay triangle had begun! ------------------------------------------------------------------------ dick manton, lounging idly in the assembly hall of the little town of fenways, in the centre of the norfolk broads, watched with eyes half critical and half amused the throng of dancers circling gaily to the strains of three violins and a tinkling piano which did duty for an orchestra when the youth of fenways amused itself with a dance. dick was wholly and entirely a product of the war. the lithe, slim body, hatchet face, and keen, resolute eyes stamped him from head to foot with the unmistakable _cachet_ of the airman. he smiled, as he watched the dancers, in acknowledgment of the gay greeting flung to him by a score of laughing girls who, with the joy of youth, were giving themselves unreservedly to the pleasures of the fox-trot. dick was a general favourite, and more than one pretty girl in the room would have been only too glad to arouse something more than a passing interest in the young airman, whose dare-devil exploits above the german lines in france had brought him the flying cross, whose brilliant career had been cut short by a bullet wound, received in a "dog-fight" above bethune, which had rendered him unfit for the continual hardships of active service. he had been offered a "cushy" job in acknowledgment of his services. but dick could not bear the idea of being "in the show" and yet not of it, and had accepted his discharge with what philosophy he could muster. his chief asset was his amazing knowledge of motor-engines. they had been his one absorbing craze. while in the army he had studied intently every type of engine to which he could gain access; he had read every book on the subject upon which he could lay his hands, and even among the expert pilots of the air force he was acknowledged as a master of engine craft. it was this knowledge of engines which had sent dick into the motor business. he knew, of course, that he could have obtained a good post with one of the big companies had he chosen to stay in london. but his nerves were still tingling from the stress of war, and he was still weak from the after effects of his wounds. so, for the sake of peace and fresh air, he had invested a part of his capital in a small motor business at fenways. if he was not making a fortune he was at least living, and the keen norfolk air was rapidly bringing him back to health. at times the longing for the old life, the rash and whirl of the city, came upon him with almost overwhelming force. suddenly a cameo of his days in france leapt into his mental vision. he found himself once again staring, as in a mirror, at the slim figure of a half-fainting french girl stealing through the dusk towards the british lines. a crackling volley of shots from the boche lines followed her, but by some miracle she came on unhurt. dick had been sent up to the front to supervise the removal of a german plane of a new pattern which had crashed just behind the trenches and had wandered into the front line (where, of course, he had no business!), and it was he who caught the exhausted girl in his arms as she dropped into the british trench. he had often wondered since what had become of yvette pasquet. she had stayed on in the little town where dick's squadron was stationed, and they had become good friends. dick had thus learnt something of her tragic history. an alsatian, french to the finger-tips, yvette had lived in london for some years and spoke english well. but she had seen her father and mother shot down by the germans on the threshold of their home, and she herself had only been preserved from a worse fate by a young german officer, who had risked his life to save her from his drink-maddened soldiers. sweet and gentle in all other respects, yvette pasquet was a merciless fiend where germans were concerned; her hatred of them reached a passion of intensity which dominated every other emotion. how she had managed to get through the german lines she never quite remembered. her father had been well-to-do, and before her escape after the final tragedy, yvette had managed to secure the scrip and shares which represented the bulk of his fortune, and had brought them across with her safely concealed under her clothing. from that time forward she had been the brain of a remarkable organisation which had devoted itself to smuggling from the occupied regions into france gold, jewellery, and securities, which had been hidden from the prying eyes of the hun. after his wound dick had lost sight of her. for many months he had lain dangerously ill, and when he had recovered sufficiently to write, yvette had disappeared. dick's reverie was broken at length by a light touch on his arm. "a penny for your thoughts!" said a soft voice at his elbow. dick came to earth with a jerk. the voice was that of yvette herself! and when he turned he found her standing beside him, smiling into his face with the light of sheer mischief dancing in her brilliant eyes. with her was a tall young frenchman, obviously her brother. "yvette!" dick gasped in sheer amazement. "what on earth brings you here?" "i came to look for you, my friend," was the quaint but sufficiently startling reply in excellent english. "but let me present my brother. jules--this is mr manton." dick, his head in a whirl, mechanically acknowledged the introduction. yvette had come to look for him! what could it mean? "we came down from london this evening," yvette explained, "and are staying at the `george.' we soon found your rooms, and hearing you were here decided to give you a surprise." "you have certainly succeeded," dick rejoined. "but how on earth did you learn i was in fenways?" "well," said yvette, "it's no mystery. i happened to meet vincent quite by accident in paris, and he told me where you were." vincent was an old flying colleague, and one of the very few people with whom dick had cared to keep in touch. "i have tried several times to find you," went on the girl, "but even your own war office didn't seem to know what had become of you after you left the army, and my letters were returned to me." then her manner changed. "dick," she said seriously, "i came down to see you on business-- important business. i can't explain here. i want you to come back to town with us in the morning. my brother and i have a proposition to put before you. we want your help. will you come?" wonderingly, dick consented. "yes," he said, "i shall be glad. my assistant can quite well look after things here while i am away." "very well," said yvette, with a look of relief which did not escape dick, "that's settled. now let us enjoy ourselves." dick spent a sleepless night, crowded with old memories which kept him wide awake. next morning he found himself with his two companions in the train for london. arriving at liverpool street, they took a taxi and were soon comfortably ensconced in a private room at a small but exclusive west end hotel. it was not until after lunch that yvette opened a conversation that was destined to exercise a powerful influence on dick manton's career. "now, dick,"--she called him "deek"--"before i say anything i must make it a condition that under no circumstances will you ever mention what passes between us. i know i can trust you implicitly. i am going to make you an offer which you are absolutely free either to accept or refuse. it will surprise you, and you are entitled to a full explanation. but in case you refuse, not a word of our conversation must ever pass your lips under any circumstances whatever. do you agree?" "of course i do," replied dick, wondering what was coming. "very well," laughed yvette, "now i can tell you everything." "you will remember," she went on, "what i was doing in france--smuggling money and valuables out of the reach of the germans. well, i am doing the same thing still, but on a different scale and by different methods. i dare say you know that there is an enormous amount of smuggling into england; the heavy import duties have made it a very profitable game. what you probably don't know is that it is mostly carried on by germans. there is a regular organisation at work, clever, secret, and highly efficient. but the chain, like every chain, has a weak link, and i happen to have found it. the head of the whole undertaking is otto kranzler, of frankfort. you will remember him. he was the commandant responsible for the murder of my father and mother." "i remember!" dick exclaimed. "at the very moment kranzler is in paris, looking for an opportunity to get into england with a wonderful collection of jewels, which formed a part of those given to the mock-monk rasputin by the late czarina of russia and some of his wealthy female admirers. now, dick, i want those jewels, and i am going to have them?" "but how?" queried dick. "kranzler is in a serious difficulty. so far as i can make out the jewels were brought into germany by a bolshevik agent for disposal, of course, against the german law. rasputin's jewels were liable to confiscation, and by some means the german secret police got wind of the affair. kranzler, however, was too quick for them, and slipped over the frontier into france in the nick of time. now he is in a quandary. "under french law he has so far committed no offence, and cannot be arrested. but if he attempts either to deal in the jewels or to export them he will find himself in trouble. the french police are wide-awake--of course, they got a tip from the germans--and are watching him as a cat watches a mouse. "so there he is," she went on, "planted in an hotel with jewels worth at least fifty thousand pounds, and unable to move! his one chance is to get the jewels away by a messenger. he is clever and may succeed, but i don't think he will. he has already tried but without success. "i have a plan. i think i can get the jewels out of the hotel. but they must be brought to england, and there is the difficulty. when kranzler loses them he can't make any formal complaint, but he will certainly get out of france as speedily as possible; that will give the game away, and the watch on the boats will be keener than ever. i dare not risk sending them by a messenger. an aeroplane is the only chance. and i want you to fly that aeroplane!" dick coloured painfully. "but, my dear yvette," he stammered, "you don't mean to say you intend--?" "to steal the jewels?" yvette completed the sentence. "yes," dick admitted, horribly embarrassed. he found it impossible to associate yvette with what appeared to him a piece of cold-blooded larceny. "i quite expected you to say that, dick," yvette replied. "and perhaps i should have thought less of you if you had said anything else. but surely you don't take me for a common thief?" without waiting for dick's reply, she went on: "now, try to look at this affair through our french eyes for a moment. i'm going to have those jewels--at least, i'm going to try. who am i hurting? a german who robbed me of my father and mother! would any frenchman or frenchwoman hesitate a moment? he is a thief and a murderer! whom am i benefiting? myself? not for a moment; i wouldn't touch a penny of the money. if i bring this off--and i think i shall--there will be at least a million francs to help on the restoration of the devastated regions of france. now, dick, you helped france once. won't you do it again? i must have some one i can trust, and i know no one but yourself. it will be great sport to beat the police of two countries," she added with a laugh. dick's imagination caught fire. it was impossible to resist yvette's appeal. he was more weary than he knew of his humdrum life in norfolk, and here was an adventure after his own heart. his mind was swiftly made up. "i'm on, yvette!" he said shortly. to his amazement, the girl burst into a sudden passion of tears. "on? dick--if you could only realise what it means to me!" she sobbed. "i have been all through the smashed-up parts of france--everything, even our churches, is smashed and broken and defiled. the poor people are working desperately to restore their old homes, and they only want help to be happy again. but france has no money, and germany won't pay--as every one foresaw except your british statesmen. do you think i am likely to hesitate to rob a german thief when it means happiness for hundreds of french men and women and children?" he tried clumsily to comfort her, and at length she grew more calm. "there is no time to be lost," she declared. "we must get over to paris to-night. i have lately learnt to fly, and my aeroplane is hidden a few miles from paris. the real problem is to get hold of the jewels and bring them safely out of the hotel. then the aeroplane can start at once." "but what about lympne?" dick asked. "you know all aeroplanes entering england from the continent must land at lympne for identification and customs examination. and the jewels would certainly be found." "you must not land at lympne," yvette declared positively. "you will have to get in unobserved and land somewhere away from any aerodrome. you can abandon the aeroplane; that won't matter if you get through safely." "and leave it to be identified in a few hours' time by the engine marks?" asked dick. "no, yvette, that won't do. and besides," he went on, "there wouldn't be the slightest chance of getting through. the new wireless direction-finders would give me away long before i could even reach the coast, and the air police would do the rest. i should simply be shadowed till i landed--or even shot down if i refused to land! four smuggling planes were picked up last week by the new wireless-detectors, and every one was captured." "then i don't know what i shall do," yvette replied blankly. "i thought you would surely be able to slip over at night." then dick, even against his better judgment, which warned him he was taking on a foolhardy enterprise, sprang his great surprise. "well," he said, "perhaps i can help you, after all. you know, in fenways i'm supposed to be only a motor-dealer. really, i have been working for over two years quite secretly on a combination of aeroplane and motor-car, and now i think i have got it about perfect. you can change the motor-car to a little monoplane in less than half an hour. the wing struts telescope back into the body, so does the propeller-shaft, and the blades fold back along the shaft." "have you really?" she gasped eagerly. "yes. best of all, i've got an absolute silencer on the exhaust; i've run the engine at top speed on the ground and found i could not hear it a hundred yards away. so far i have only made one or two flights, but they were quite successful. it seats two in little cockpits placed one on each side of the centre line where the propeller shaft runs. why shouldn't we try to fly her over tonight? i feel pretty sure we could do it at ten thousand feet without the direction-finders knowing anything about us." "excellent!" cried the girl. "the great disadvantage is that i can't get any speed to speak of on the ground. i have had to make everything very light, of course, and i fancy about twenty miles an hour, unless the roads were exceptionally good, would be our limit. we should have no chance of getting away if we were chased on the ground--or in the air, for that matter--if we were spotted. we might fly over to-night and chance getting caught. of course, i have my pilot's certificate, and if we were caught i could easily explain that i was making a night flight and my compass had gone wrong. it wouldn't be a very serious matter the first time as, of course, we should have nothing contraband. if we got over safely we could take the chance of coming back loaded." yvette had become suddenly radiant. "why, dick!" she cried, "that's the very thing. we simply can't be caught. and when we land anywhere we can be ordinary motorists. it's wonderful--wonderful!" "don't be too sure," replied dick grimly. "the air police are pretty wide awake. however, it's worth trying. now, shall we go to-night? there's a train from liverpool street at six-twenty. we shall get down to fenways by nine. we shall have five miles to walk to the shed where i keep the machine--of course, we daren't drive out--and we must manage to reach paris about dawn. if we are too early i cannot land in the dark, and if we are late people will be about and we shall run the risk of being spotted." yvette promptly produced a small but beautifully clear contour map. "there's your landing-place," she said, pointing to a large clearing surrounded by thick woods. "it's about fifteen miles from paris, and my own aeroplane is pushed in under the edge of the trees. it is quite a lonely spot in the forest a little to the north of triel. of late years the forest has been very much neglected and very few people go there. an old farmer, who lives quite alone, grazes a few sheep in the clearing, and i have, of course, had to arrange with him about my machine. he thinks i am an amateur flyer, and i have told him i am making some secret experiments and paid him to keep quiet. i flew the machine there myself when i bought it from the francois freres, of bordeaux. of course, i had my papers all in order when i bought it." "all right; that will do well enough," said dick. "we will go over to-night. jules can go by the boat train." a few hours later dick and yvette were standing in the shed beside the strange motor-car, dick rapidly explaining the system of converting the machine into a monoplane. "we must get off the ground as quickly as possible," he said. "people go to bed early in these parts, but there is always a chance of some one being about, and i don't want to be caught while we are making the change." at a suitable spot on the road, the change was made. it occupied dick, with yvette's skilful help, just twenty minutes. "we can do it in fifteen," he declared, "when you are thoroughly accustomed to it." as a matter of fact they did it in less on one memorable occasion some weeks later when their pursuers were hot on their heels. soon they were speeding swiftly southwards. dick had set the monoplane on a steep, upward slant, aiming to reach ten thousand feet before he drew abreast of london. thanks to the clinging mist, they were soon utterly out of sight from below, and dick had to steer by compass until they sighted thirty miles ahead, and slightly to their right, the great twin beams of light which marked the huge aerodrome at croydon. then dick veered to the south-east, flying straight for lympne and the french coast. after all, he argued, the bold course was the best. no one would expect an aeroplane on an illicit errand to venture right above the head-quarters of the air police, and should any machine be about on lawful business the noise of their engines would prevent the detectors picking up the throbbing whirr of the propeller, which, of course, could not be absolutely silenced. fortune favoured them. as they drew nearer to lympne, swinging in from the slightly easterly course he had set, dick caught sight of the navigation lights of the big mail aeroplane heading from london to paris. his own machine, bearing, of course, no lights, was far above the stranger, the thunder of whose big engines came clearly up to them. a couple of red flares from the big plane signalled her code to the aerodrome, the searchlight blinked an acknowledgment, and the mail plane tore swiftly onward. dick could not match its hurtling speed, but he followed along its track, confident that he would now be undetected. they swept silently above the brilliantly lighted aerodrome, then across the channel, and just as dawn was breaking detected the triel forest, and dropped lightly to earth almost alongside yvette's machine. by eight o'clock the machine, now a motor-car, was safely locked up in a disused stable in the montmartre quarter of paris, and dick, jules, and yvette were soon in deep consultation. that evening, just as dusk was falling, a half-drunken coachman sprawled lazily on a bench set against a wall in the deep courtyard of the "baton d'or," a quiet hotel located in aback street in the market quarter of paris. by his side was a bottle of _vin blanc_. before him, harnessed to a dilapidated carriage, stood his horse, a dejected-looking animal enough. directly over his head, at a window of a room on the third floor, two men stood talking. one of them was otto kranzler. two rooms away, on the same floor, a curious little drama was being enacted. lounging on a sofa near the door was dick manton. yvette, on a chair drawn near the window, faced him. yvette rang the bell, and the two were talking when a chambermaid appeared. "coffee and cognac for two," yvette ordered. a few minutes later the girl reappeared. she crossed the room with a tray and set it on the table in front of yvette. as the maid turned dick's arm was slipped round her, and a chloroformed pad was pressed swiftly over her face. taken utterly by surprise, the girl was too firmly held to do more than struggle convulsively, and in a few moments, as the drug took effect, she lay a limp heap in dick's arms. snatching from a valise a chambermaid's costume and cap, yvette swiftly transformed herself into a replica of the unconscious girl. then picking up the tray and its contents she silently left the room, having poured a few drops of colourless liquid into each of the glasses of brandy. kranzler was evidently in a bad temper. "i tell you," he said to his companion, "there _must_ be a way out. that infernal--" there was a knock at the door, and a chambermaid entered with coffee and liqueurs. it was yvette! "would the messieurs require anything further?" she asked as she set down the tray. "no, that's all for to-night," said kranzler in a surly tone, as he picked up the brandy and drained it with obvious relish. his companion followed suit. dick was sitting beside the unconscious girl as yvette re-entered the room. "she's quite all right," he said, as he watched her narrowly for signs of returning consciousness, "but i must give her a little more just as we are leaving. how did you get on?" "splendidly," said yvette; "they noticed nothing, and i saw them both drink the brandy as i left the room." ten minutes later yvette re-entered kranzler's room. the two men had collapsed into chairs. both were sleeping heavily. without losing a second yvette tore open kranzler's waistcoat and passed her hand rapidly over his body. a moment later she had slit open the unconscious man's shirt, and from a belt of webbing which ran round his shoulders cut away a flat leather pouch. from her pocket she took a reel of strong black thread. to one end of this she fastened the pouch, and, crouching by the open window, pushed the pouch over the sill and swiftly lowered it into the darkness. a moment later came a sort of tug at the line, the thread snapped, and yvette let the end fall. then, with a glance at her drugged victims, she snatched up the tray and returned with it to her own room. lying on the sofa, the chambermaid stirred uneasily. she was evidently recovering. while yvette swiftly discarded her disguise dick again pressed the chloroform to the girl's face. a few moments later "mr and mrs wilson, of london," were being escorted by the hotel porter to a waiting taxi-cab. they never returned. in the semi-darkness of the courtyard the drunken coachman had stiffened and leant back against the wall as a small, dark object lightly touched his shoulder. his arm, twisted behind him, felt for and found a slender thread. held against the wall behind him was the flat leather pouch which yvette had lowered. a moment later it was transferred to a capacious pocket, and the coachman, staggering uncertainly to his horse, mounted the carriage and drove noisily out of the yard. no one paid the slightest attention to him; no one realised that that uncouth exterior concealed the slim form of jules pasquet, his nerves quivering with excitement at the success of the gay triangle's first daring _coup_. an hour later the paris police took charge of an old horse found aimlessly dragging an empty carriage along one of the boulevards. about the same time, from a forest clearing fifteen miles away from paris, a tiny monoplane rose silently into the air and sped away in the direction of the french coast. kranzler left paris the following day and returned to germany. he was strictly searched at the frontier, of course without result, and the puzzled french police never solved the problem of how, as they thought, he had beaten them. he had not dared to complain. "mr and mrs wilson" were never even suspected, for by a strange coincidence some articles of jewellery were stolen from another room that same night, and when the drugged chambermaid told her story it was assumed that the wilsons were hotel thieves of the ordinary type. a month later the _petit parisien_ announced in black type with a flaring headline: "an anonymous gift of one million francs has been received by the french government, to be devoted to the relief of the devastated regions of france." chapter two. a race for a throne. paris, keenly sensitive to political vibrations which left less emotional centres relatively unmoved, was rippling with excitement. the death of the aged king john of galdavia had been followed by the sudden appearance of a second claimant to the stormy throne of the latter principality in the middle east, and the stormy petrels of politics, to whom international political complications are as the breath of life, had scented trouble from afar, and were flocking to the gay city. for the moment, however, the rest of the world seemed to take but little interest in the new problem. it was generally felt that the succession to the throne of galdavia was a matter for the galdavians alone, and only a few long-sighted individuals perceived the small cloud, "no bigger than a man's hand," which threatened to darken the entire political firmament. back in his quiet norfolk home, dick manton had dropped into a state of profound dejection. the adventure of the russian jewels, with its wild plunge into the thrills of the old life, had awakened an irrepressible desire for action and movement which had lain dormant while his shattered health was being slowly re-established. now, fully recovered, and in the perfection of physical condition, he could only contemplate with distaste and aversion continued existence in the humdrum surroundings of east anglia. but what was he to do? like thousands of others he felt that the ordered life of civilisation, with every daily action laid out according to plan, was for him impossible. his was essentially one of the restless spirits, stirred into life by the war, which craved action, difficulty, and even danger. moreover his growing affection for yvette troubled him. yvette had been delicately brought up. she was accustomed to luxury, and dick could only realise that his present prospects were such that, even if he were sure she cared for him, a marriage between them must entail such sacrifice on her part as he could not contemplate with equanimity. but, though dull, he had not been idle. the brilliant initial test of the new motor-plane, which he had fancifully christened "the mohawk" had stirred his ambition, and every moment he could snatch from business had been devoted to thinking out and applying improvements. some of these had been of real importance, and the machine had gained substantially in strength and lifting power, as well as in speed both on the ground and in the air. he was also making experiments in gliding. for some months he had heard little of yvette. a few brief notes had told him she was well. but that was all, and he felt a little hurt. he never dreamed that yvette's feelings were singularly like his own; that she, too, was the prey of emotions which sometimes alarmed her. they were, in fact, kept apart by dick's shyness and poverty, and by the french girl's profound pride and reserve. matters were in this stage when dick, to his great surprise, received a brief telegram from yvette. "can you come to paris? very urgent--yvette," the message ran. dick left at once and next evening found him with yvette and jules at a small hotel near the gare du nord. after a cordial greeting yvette, as usual, plunged direct into the business in hand. "now, dick," she said, "our last adventure was quite a success. are you good for something more exciting and decidedly more dangerous? or," she added mischievously, "is norfolk and the motor business exciting and dangerous enough for you?" dick laughed. "to tell the truth," he replied, smiling, "i'm about fed up with both of them. you can count me in on anything short of murder." "i hope it won't come to that," was yvette's rejoinder, "but i admit you may find your automatic pistol useful, perhaps indispensable. but let me explain. you english don't take much interest in foreign politics, and perhaps you haven't--in norfolk--paid much attention to galdavia." "i read that king john has died," dick rejoined, "but i didn't suppose it made much difference." "just as i expected!" said yvette, laughing. "well, it does; it makes quite a lot of difference as it happens. of course it ought not to. in the ordinary way milenko, the son of king john, should succeed peacefully enough. but he has done some foolish things, and he is not too popular. there is a strong party in galdavia which professes to object to the manner in which john was called to the throne. you know, of course, how it happened; he was summoned after his predecessor, king boris, was killed by a bomb. legally, of course, milenko's claim is unchallengeable. but legality doesn't count for too much in galdavian politics, and a second claimant to the throne has appeared in the person of prince michael ostrovitch, whose title lies in the fact that he is descended from a brother of boris's grandfather. he was only a boy when john was chosen, and in any case he would have had no possible chance of election, for galdavian opinion then was overwhelmingly in favour of john. but there has been a change. the change would not be enough to cause uneasiness, but for the appearance of another and very sinister influence," and she paused. "we are convinced that germany, for very obvious motives, is backing prince ostrovitch," she went on. "the scheme is being very skilfully worked, and so far we have failed entirely to secure positive proof. if we could do so the plot would be at an end, for france and great britain, and perhaps even america would intervene at once. they would never allow a german puppet to ascend the throne of galdavia. but they would not interfere with a _fait accompli_, especially if ostrovitch's election were so stage-managed as to give it the appearance of a popular movement." "i quite see the point," manton said, much interested. "now we have found out this much," she went on. "jules and i have been working at the case for some weeks, and we have both been to langengrad, the capital. the secret is there. bausch and horst,"--she named two well-known agents of the german foreign office--"are both there, disguised and under assumed names. we believe that a formal agreement is being prepared between the ostrovitch party and germany. now, neither the germans nor the ostrovitch party fully trust one another, and each will seek to safeguard itself by documents which in the event of treachery by either side would mean certain ruin. i am convinced that such a document either exists or is being drawn up, and we must get hold of it if the peace of europe is to be kept. now," she added slowly, "i want you to come with me to langengrad and get it!" dick sat silent for a moment. "i want to ask one or two questions," he said at length. "do you mind telling me how you come to be in this?" "i expected that, of course," replied yvette. "the answer is simple enough. i have been working for a long time for the french secret service." "and why do you want me?" dick queried. yvette coloured. "i didn't expect that, dick," she answered slowly. "i want you first because i know you thoroughly, and secondly because i must have the mohawk. if you decide to go we shall go in the mohawk as motorists touring for pleasure. but if we succeed we shall certainly have to leave langengrad in a desperate hurry, and we should certainly find all the roads blocked. what chance do you think a motor-car, to say nothing of such a conspicuous oddity as the mohawk, would have of getting all through austria-hungary and germany, even if it got over the galdavian frontier, when so many people in galdavia, austria, and germany would have the liveliest interest in stopping it? no, we must fly out of galdavia. we cannot fly in, because our passports must be in order--but we shall have to fly out." dick smiled, but made no comment. "but remember this," the girl said, "if we arouse the slightest suspicion it is a hundred to one we shall never return. the french foreign office cannot appear in the matter under any circumstances. if we succeed, it means a big reward; if we fall into ostrovitch's hands--!" and a shrug of yvette's shapely shoulders ended the sentence. "very well, yvette," exclaimed manton. "i'll go with you. there's no one to worry about me, anyhow, and i'm fed up with norfolk. when do we start?" "the sooner the better. is the mohawk ready?" "yes," replied dick. "i can start half an hour after i get back." "then you had better go over by the air express to-morrow morning," replied yvette, "and fly back to-morrow night. i will meet you at the old place ready to start. you can leave all papers to me." then jules took up the story and for a couple of hours dick listened carefully to the details of the organisation which jules and yvette had set up in langengrad, and he marvelled greatly at the extent and thoroughness of the work which had been done in so short a time. a few days later dick and yvette, under the names of monsieur and mademoiselle victor, sister and brother, crossed the german frontier in the mohawk in the guise of tourists motoring through germany and austria-hungary to galdavia. their passports, prepared by the french secret service and bearing all the necessary _visas_, got them through without the smallest difficulty. speaking french really well, dick had no doubt that, outside france at any rate, he could safely pass for a young french officer. jules had remained behind to carry out his share of the campaign. dick drove steadily via stuttgart and munich to salzburg, where he loaded up the mohawk with all the petrol she could carry for the last stage of the journey. from salzburg he proposed to fly across the mountains to klagenfurt, where he hoped to pick up the line of the drave river and follow it to its confluence with the danube. from there a brief trip by road would bring them to the borders of galdavia. it was a lovely autumn evening when the queer-looking motor-car left the "bristol hotel" at salzburg and slid along the road to radstadt, the "winter sport" resort. very soon a sufficiently lonely spot was reached and from a smooth patch of moorland turf the mohawk rose into the air just as the full moon was rising above the great mountains. the engine was working splendidly and the mohawk climbing swiftly into the keen air travelled steadily until, just before midnight, dick and yvette sighted simultaneously the lake at klagenfurt and the silvery line of the drave stretching away to the eastward. with nearly three hundred miles to fly dick set the mohawk on a course parallel to the drave and slightly to the south of it, and for hour after hour they flew on through the brilliant night. five thousand feet up, they had no fear of detection and gave themselves up to enjoy the beauty of the glorious panorama unfolded below them. in less than five hours the danube was sighted and crossed, and just as dawn was breaking, the mohawk came to earth a few miles from the little town of neusatz. quickly the aeroplane was metamorphosed into a motor-car and the "tourists" ran into neusatz, the little danube town, for breakfast and rest. a few hours later they were across the borders of galdavia and heading for langengrad, the old capital surmounted by a frowning fortress built by the turks in the middle ages. twenty-five miles from the city they halted at a wayside inn. "this is where we shall meet fedor," yvette explained. it was not until after they had had dinner, a homely meal in the true galdavian fashion, and it grew dark, that they heard from the roadway three sharp blasts on a motor-horn. "there he is!" exclaimed the shrewd athletic girl. "get the car out, dick!" the latter hurried to the shed at the rear which served as a garage and when, a few moments later, he drove the mohawk into the white dusty roadway he found a big touring car drawn up and yvette talking to a tall, dark-eyed young fellow whom she introduced to dick as "count fedor ruffo." dick gazed at him with quick interest, for he had heard much of a wonderful invention of the count which was expected to play an important part in their quest. fedor was a young fellow of quiet demeanour, with the long nervous hands of an artist, a delicately cultured voice and soft dreamy eyes. dick took him for an austrian, which he afterwards found to be correct. he had taken a high degree in science at vienna and had settled in langengrad as a teacher at the university there. "follow the count's car as closely as possible, dick," said yvette. "we want to slip into langengrad unnoticed, if possible. the fewer people who see the mohawk the better." the count's car moved away almost noiselessly into the darkness. several times fedor stopped and listened intently, and once they waited an hour at a point where two roads crossed. nothing happened, however, and about one o'clock in the morning they reached the outskirts of langengrad. here the count left the main road and slipped into a series of crooked by-streets lit only by the light of the moon. finally, he turned into the courtyard of an old-fashioned house standing in its own grounds and the mohawk was speedily backed into a large empty shed, and the door locked. "now, mr manton," said the count in fair english, "will you drive miss pasquet in my car to the continental and register there? she knows the way. rooms have been taken for you. you had better use my car while you are here. in the meantime if we meet in public remember we are strangers. foreigners here are pretty closely watched." the hotel continental at langengrad is one of those cosmopolitan caravanserais dear to the heart of the tourist. as usual it was crowded, and even at two o'clock in the morning the cafe was humming with activity. consequently dick and yvette arrived almost unnoticed. explaining that they had been delayed by a motor breakdown they were soon in their rooms and were sound asleep. next morning yvette took dick out into the gay pleasant city of boulevards and handsome buildings. he was immensely interested in the brilliant scene, but he realised they were on a desperate mission and took care to fix firmly in his mind the roads they would have to use. it was necessary, of course, to keep up the appearance of being mere gaping sightseers and they went from shop to shop buying a quantity of souvenirs which neither desired in the smallest degree, and arranging for them to be delivered to their hotel. in the balkanskaya, one of the principal streets, yvette paused at last before a jewellers' window which blazed with gems. a moment later, followed by dick, she slipped into a narrow passage at the side of the shop and turning into a doorway began to mount a flight of stairs which seemingly led to suites of offices in the upper part of the building. on the third floor she halted before a dingy door, and knocked softly. instantly the door was opened by fedor who, inviting them within, shut the door and locked it. "well, fedor, what luck?" yvette asked. "the best," was the reply. "we have been able to find out exactly the people with whom bausch and horst are associating, and where their meetings are being held. you have arrived in the very nick of time. i fancy--indeed, i am almost sure--the agreement will be signed either to-night or to-morrow night. i have overheard most of their talk." "but how have you managed that?" dick asked eagerly. "miss pasquet's telephone, of course," said fedor. "didn't she tell you about it?" yvette blushed and laughed. "you didn't know i was an electrician, did you, dick?" she said. "well, you will soon see my little invention at work. but it is nothing to compare with fedor's." the good-looking count talked earnestly for half an hour, acquainting them fully with the work of yvette's agents in the galdavian capital, until dick became amazed at the perfection of the organisation which the alert young french girl had so swiftly created. "ostrovitch's party," fedor concluded, "usually meet at the house of general mestich, who, as you know, is the commander of the headquarter troops in langengrad. he is a wonderfully able man, but is a confirmed gambler and _bon viveur_, and is head over ears in debt. he plays at the jockey club each night. there can be no doubt whatever that he has been bought by germany. his house in the dalmatinska for a long time has been notorious for its rowdy parties, and as a result it is quite easy for the conspirators to meet there without attracting undue attention. i am certain the government does not realise how far things have gone yet. there is not a scrap of direct evidence. mestich is personally very popular, and would in any ordinary matter carry with him a big volume of public opinion. but he dare not, as yet, venture on any direct revolutionary action. his hope is to give his plot some semblance of a popular movement, and he is gradually winning important adherents. if he is given enough time i think he will succeed. but without bausch and horst--that is without germany--the plot must go to pieces. they are finding the money, which is being spent like water." "this is certainly interesting," dick exclaimed. "what are your intentions?" "well, immediately opposite mestich's house is an old building which for many years has been used as a store. it belongs to a loyalist friend of ours, and i can use it as i like. from one of the upper windows it is possible to see right into mestich's little _salon_, where the meetings are held. we will meet there to-night. you must come separately to the alley at the back; we dare not enter by the front. there is a small doorway there, half overgrown by clematis and apparently never used. i will be inside waiting to open the door when you knock." for the rest of the day dick and yvette were careful to behave as ordinary tourists "doing the sights" of langengrad, the rathaus, the museum, and the opera house, and still buying piles of useless souvenirs. but they were soon to realise that a careful watch was kept on all strangers in langengrad. just as they were finishing dinner that night they were approached by an officious little black-moustached man who sent a waiter to call them aside. when they were in a small smoking-room he made a courteous request for their papers. these were, of course, in order, and dick had no misgivings on the point. but for some reason the shrewd, sallow-faced official seemed suspicious, and dick noticed with anxiety that he spoke faultless french. would his own, he wondered, pass muster? "monsieur speaks french like an englishman," the police officer suddenly rapped out. luckily dick was prepared. "yes," he answered readily, "i was brought up in england. i was at school at rugby. my friends in our french air force nicknamed me `the englishman.'" the officer, it appeared, had also been an airman and proceeded to talk interestingly on the subject of aero engines. he was perfectly courteous, but none the less dick had an uncomfortable suspicion that he was beneath a human microscope. fortunately the subject was on one which he could not possibly be "stumped" and try as he would the police official found he had met his match. dick was intensely interested and amused by his skill and courtesy. none the less the position was most dangerous. he realised fully that-- as was indeed the fact--the officer might be one of mestich's lieutenants, and unless he could be satisfied their chances of getting away from langengrad were trifling. at length he seemed satisfied that dick was really what he pretended to be, and finally left them with a courteous farewell, having accepted a glass of slivovitza--or plum gin--the liqueur of the galdavians--and chatted for a time on ordinary topics. "that man is dangerous, dick," whispered yvette when he had gone. "we shall have to be most careful. i wish i knew how much he knows, or suspects." they were soon to learn how acute this visitor really was! shortly after, dick, smoking an exquisite cigarette such as can only be bought in langengrad, a dark coat thrown over his evening dress, left the hotel quite openly, but keenly on the alert. he suspected he might be followed, a premonition that was to prove useful. he strolled idly through the broad kossowska agog with evening life, gradually working his way towards the rendezvous, and keeping a sharp look out. soon he picked out the figure of a man who always seemed to be about fifty yards behind him. a few turns through side streets confirmed his suspicions; clearly, he was being "shadowed!" dick manton's brain always worked rapidly in a crisis. obviously the man must be got rid of. so he speedily formed a plan. strolling down the alley behind the old storehouse, dick marked the exact locality of the clematis-grown doorway, passed it and then turned, so timing his movement that he and his pursuer met exactly outside the door. it was the agent of political police who had interrogated him after dinner! further pretence was useless, and dick came straight to the point. "to what am i indebted for monsieur's very polite attentions?" he demanded bluntly. the stranger shrugged his shoulders insolently. "langengrad at night is not too healthy for foreigners," he replied with an obvious sneer, "and of course we feel responsible for--" he got no further. dick's clenched fist jerked upward with every ounce of his strength and skill behind it. taken utterly by surprise the police agent was caught squarely on the point of the jaw and went down like a log. dick tapped at the door, which was instantly opened by fedor, and together they dragged the unconscious officer inside. a moment later he was securely bound, gagged and blindfolded. dick was now thoroughly alarmed about yvette. would she be followed, and if so, could she win clear? here fortune favoured them. apparently the police official, whatever his suspicions were, had meant to make sure of dick, knowing that yvette alone could not escape him. a few minutes later they heard her knock, and soon all three were in the house. "safe enough now," said fedor laconically as he led the way through piles of stored goods to an upper room at the top of the building. the room was faintly illuminated by a gleam of moonlight which came through a skylight in the roof, and when a small lamp was turned on dick looked around him with keen interest. filthily dirty, and apparently unused for years, the room was crammed with a heterogeneous mass of canvas packages and wooden boxes. the only window was covered with shutters through which circular holes had been bored to admit light, but these were covered over with flaps of felt. the dust of years lay thick everywhere. dick's attention was instantly centred on a large, square table in the middle of the room. upon the table stood what appeared to be a big camera, its lens pointing to the window, with a screen of ground glass at the back of the camera exposed. a few feet behind, on a tripod, stood a small cinema apparatus with the lens aperture directed at the ground glass plate of the camera. to each ran electric wires from a bracket on the wall of the room. the whole of the electrical apparatus was weird and complicated. there were also on the table two head telephones connected by wires to the horn of what looked like a large phonograph. "now, mr manton," said fedor in a low, intense voice, "i will show you my new apparatus. mademoiselle pasquet knows about it." dick was breathless with excitement. yvette's story of fedor's wonderful invention had filled him with keenest curiosity. "if you will look through one of the holes in this shutter," fedor went on, "you will see, directly opposite, the window of mestich's dining-room. the curtains are drawn, but you will see the room is lighted inside. he and his friends have been there for some time; apparently they have been awaiting horst." dick looked through the hole and saw the lighted window. "now, come and look at the screen," urged the count. as he spoke he touched an electric switch. immediately a soft purring noise came from the camera and on the screen there showed a vivid well-focused picture of a room with about a dozen men seated round a long table. the interior of the closed room was revealed by the new invention. at the head of the table, facing the camera, sat a big, soldierly man whom dick at once recognised, from his published photographs, as general mestich. fedor rapidly named the others--bausch, horst, colonel federvany, leader of the parliamentary opposition, several officials of the galdavian government and war office, and two or three jew financiers, one of whom named mendelssohn dick knew to be of international reputation. the marvellous picture was framed in a solid black outline. it gave a curious effect, just as though one were looking from the darkness into a fiercely lighted cave. dick was almost stupefied with astonishment. "do you mean to say that that is the room in the house on the opposite side of the road?" he asked. "certainly i do," said fedor with a grim smile. "but how is it done?" demanded dick, aghast. "the shutters are closed here and the curtains drawn on the other side." "it's a new electric ray i stumbled upon quite by accident," fedor explained. "i was experimenting, and found it. it passes quite readily through wood, fibre and fabric, in fact through almost anything except stone, mica, and metal. that is why you see only part of the room; the walls cut off everything except the space directly behind the window. if the table were in the corner of the room they would be safe enough-- if they only knew!" "marvellous!" dick ejaculated. "this new ray is projected from these two rods of silenium," the count went on, "and for some reason which i cannot explain it follows the direction of the longitudinal axis of the metal. thus any object at which the rods are pointed is rendered luminous by the ray on the screen, which is coated with the barium sulphate used in x-ray work. it can be photographed by the cinema and we shall have evidence enough to hang the lot." then he paused for a few seconds. "now we must begin," he said suddenly. "they are just about to start. hold the telephone receivers to your ear. mademoiselle will look after the cinema." picking up the receiver, dick heard a voice speaking clearly and earnestly. it was evidently that of general mestich, who, as he saw by the screen, was on his feet and speaking. the language, of course, he did not understand, but fedor, who was also listening, became excited and snapped on a switch which started the phonograph. in the meantime yvette was turning the handle of the cinema camera. "here it comes," fedor ejaculated a moment later, and dick saw general mestich take from his pocket a big blue document which he unfolded and spread on the table before him. bausch at the same time produced a similar paper. then bausch got to his feet and also spoke briefly. immediately after the documents were passed round and signed by all present. the treaty was made! but every action of the plotters had been caught by the eye of the camera, and every word they uttered was recorded by the phonograph! the evidence was complete! "now, manton," said fedor, "we have all we want except mestich's copy of the treaty which will be signed by the german secretary of state, as well as bausch and horst. to get that and get away is your work. i have to stay in langengrad and i dare not risk being seen and identified. you understand?" "of course," answered dick. "you have done wonders--absolute wonders! but just tell me how this telephone works." "that is mademoiselle pasquet's invention," replied fedor. "it is really a secret change-over switch which projects an electric ray which sets the general's transmitter working even when the receiver is on the hook and the instrument would in the ordinary way be `dead.' it can be put in in three minutes; as a matter of fact i slipped it in one day when i called to see the general and was kept waiting. the main wire from the general's 'phone to the exchange passes over the house and it was easy enough to `tap' it with a fine wire that can be pulled away so as to leave no cause for suspicion. i shall do that now; we shall not want it again." soon after, the party opposite began to break up and finally, on the screen, they saw the general standing alone, the treaty in his hand, and a look of triumph and elation on his handsome face. it was the picture of a man who had very nearly reached the summit of his ambitions. a moment later he crossed to the big, high stove, lifted a heavy picture, and slid aside a small door in the panelling of the wall. this disclosed a recess in which the treaty was deposited, the slide was closed, and the picture replaced. "clever," said dick, "but easy now we know. i thought he would put it in a safe. but how are we going to get it?" yvette, who had been silent, interposed. "i think the general's house might unexpectedly catch fire," she said quietly. "that will give dick a chance to make a dash for the treaty in the confusion." "i don't see any better plan," fedor agreed. "it can easily be managed. i have plenty of petrol here, and there is a small leaded window on the ground floor that can be pushed in without making too much noise." "excellent!" exclaimed dick. "i'll manage that. i'll see there's plenty of confusion." "very well, that is settled," answered fedor. "now i will take mademoiselle to your car and have everything ready for you to start. it will be touch and go. here is the phonograph record, with the cinema film rolled up inside it. take care of them; they are priceless. the film must be developed in paris." then fedor produced a can of petrol and thoroughly soaked the room. "this place is going up to-night," he explained. "that police agent will know all about it and it will be searched at once. i can't get my camera away and i don't want it found." as he spoke fedor was laying a long strip of fuse from the room to the ground floor. striking a match he lit the end. "in half an hour the place will be a furnace," he said coolly. what to do with the police agent was a problem. "i can't kill the fellow in cold blood," remarked fedor, "and i can't leave him here to be burnt alive." finally they dragged the man outside and left him lying in the darkest corner of the alley they could find. "some one will find him when the fire starts," was fedor's conclusion. but some one found him much earlier, and their clemency nearly cost them their lives! yvette and fedor started for the mohawk and dick walked swiftly over to the general's house. it was very late and not a soul was stirring in the now deserted streets. without difficulty dick found the leaded window and scarcely troubling about the slight noise he made, forced it partly in, poured in a liberal supply of petrol and flung after it a lighted match. instantly there was a most satisfactory sheet of flame. a moment later dick was hammering at the front door, shouting at the top of his voice. he aimed at making all the confusion he could. instantly the street was in an uproar. people poured half-dressed from the houses, and from general mestich's residence came a stream of frightened domestics, screaming in terror and half-choked with smoke. slipping unnoticed into the house, dick made straight for the _salon_. as he entered, general mestich was in the very act of withdrawing the treaty from the secret receptacle. he turned towards dick and their eyes met. traitor though he was, the galdavian general was a cool and brave man. his hand dropped to his pocket and a revolver flashed out. but he was just a fraction of a second too late. dick's hand was ready on his automatic, and as the general's revolver came out dick fired from his pocket and the leader of the galdavian revolution fell dead with a bullet through his heart. a moment later dick, the precious treaty in his pocket, had joined the shouting throng in the crowded street. as he did so, a burst of flame from the old storehouse announced the success of fedor's plan and added to the general confusion. dick worked himself clear of the crowd and dashed off at top speed for the mohawk. yvette was already seated at the wheel, with the engine started ready for instant departure. as dick sprang into his seat fedor laid beside him a loaded rifle. "ten shots, explosive bullets," he said coolly. "it may be useful if you are followed." then hastily they shook hands and the mohawk leaped forward for the hill road and safety. the moon was unfortunately very bright, and it was not until they had gone five or six miles that dick ventured to draw a breath of relief. "we ought to be safe now," he said. "we must find a place to fly from." the words were hardly out of his mouth when the roar of a big car behind them caught his ears. they had forgotten the bound and blindfolded police agent. that very astute individual had been found and released by a passer-by a few minutes after they had left the warehouse! frantic with rage and determined to catch dick at all costs, he had acted with wonderful promptness. his first step was to send out cars loaded with armed policemen to block all three roads leading from langengrad so that dick's motor should not get away. had he been found a few moments earlier dick and yvette must have been hopelessly trapped. but the delay of a few minutes had given them a priceless advantage. looking back as the big car came swiftly on, dick caught the gleam of rifle barrels in the moonlight. his plan was swiftly made. at the top of a steep slope, where the road made a sharp curve and dipped into a small depression, dick bade yvette halt. blessing fedor's foresight, he took the rifle from the car and in the shadow flung himself down on the grass bordering the road. for five hundred yards below him the road stretched in a smooth unbroken descent. as the pursuing car came into sight dick took careful aim and fired, aiming not at the men, but at the engine of the car. his first shot was low, and he saw a burst of flame as the explosive bullet struck the road a few yards short of the car. his second shot got home. the big car lurched, slewed round, and dashing into the side of the road, toppled over. evidently the explosive bullet had wrecked the steering gear. he leapt into the car again, but the danger was not over. checked by the steep rise the big car was only going slowly, and the men inside had evidently escaped unhurt. and they were clearly well led, for a dozen of them dashed into the road and a volley of shots rattled round dick as he dashed for the mohawk. for the moment, racing down the hill, they were safe. but dick saw, with inward trepidation, that a little farther on the road rose again and they would be a clear mark for their pursuers in the bright moonlight. his fears were justified. again a volley of shots rang out and bullets pattered round them. one smashed the wind screen, a second went through yvette's hat. but they were untouched, and raced on. a moment more and they would be safe. then another volley rang out and dick felt a stinging pain in his left shoulder. he had been hit by one of the last shots fired! they were now out of range and yvette sent the mohawk along as fast as she dared until, a few miles farther, she left the high road and drove across the smooth upland turf to the shelter of a small wood where they could convert the car into the aeroplane. despite the danger of delay yvette insisted on binding up dick's shoulder. luckily no bone had been touched, but he had lost a lot of blood. by a tremendous effort of will he managed to help yvette until the aeroplane was ready, and then climbing into his seat collapsed in a dead faint. when he came to his senses again it was daylight and the mohawk was flying steadily high above a carpet of white mist which hid the ground. yvette, crouched over the duplicate control lever, nodded and smiled. "better now?" she called. "a bit rocky," laughed dick. "where are we?" "we ought to be about over scutari according to speed and compass bearings," was yvette's reply, "but the mist has been baffling me. still, i don't think we are far out." "how long have we been flying?" asked dick. "about two hours," yvette responded, "and we have been doing about seventy. that should bring us very near the coast." after a stiff dose of brandy and a mouthful of food dick felt better. a few moments later he pointed downwards. "lake scutari!" he remarked, as he recognised the long narrow sheet of water at the head of which the ramshackle half-turkish town stands. the mist was already breaking as, at ten thousand feet elevation, they swept out over the adriatic and headed for the italian coast. then yvette began a rapid call on the wireless set with which the mohawk was fitted and placed the head-telephones over her ears. "got him! he's there all right!" she exclaimed triumphantly a few minutes later. "he answers `o.k.'" it was jules, who for three days had been cruising off cape gallo in a motor-launch, ready to dash to their rescue if anything went wrong as they crossed the adriatic, and who was now heading in their direction as fast as his engines would drive him. suddenly yvette uttered an exclamation of alarm. "dick," she said, "our petrol is giving out. there is none left in the number four tank and five and six will only carry us about seventy miles." evidently the bullets of their pursuers had pierced the tank which was now empty and the precious spirit had drained away unnoticed. the situation was now serious indeed. could they get to jules in time? a wireless message bade him hasten. "ten miles more, dick," said yvette at last, "and then i can make three miles and the glide as we come down. it's lucky we are so high; we ought to do it." then seven or eight miles away a column of vapour rose from the water ahead. jules had fired a smoke bomb to guide them! their petrol was almost gone. but as the engine flickered out and stopped yvette, with a cry of joy, pointed to a tiny dot on the sea which they knew was jules rushing to their help. a rocket shot up from the launch. "he sees us!" said dick, as yvette set the mohawk on a flat downward slant. two minutes later they struck the water with a mighty splash just as the motor-launch tore up, flinging a cloud of spray into the air as she rushed to their rescue. they were safe and they had saved a throne! but the gallant mohawk sank to the bottom of the adriatic. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ there was no revolution in galdavia. with the damning evidence of the film and the phonograph record the allies acted promptly, and with the traitor mestich dead the plot went to pieces. king milenko rules to-day over a contented, happy and prosperous people, and his early follies laid aside has become a capable and popular ruler. fedor they never saw again; he was killed in a motor smash a week after they left, and the secret of his wonderful invention died with him. chapter three. the seven dots. in a cosy little house at veneux nadon, near moret-sur-loing, in the great forest of fontainebleau, dick, yvette, and jules were seated in earnest conversation. they made a remarkable trio. dick was unmistakably english, yvette and her brother as unmistakably french--the girl dark-haired and dark-eyed, and with all the grace and vivacity which distinguish frenchwomen of the better class. her brother, quiet and dreamy, lacked his sister's vivacity, but there was a suggestion of strength and iron resolution in the firm mouth and steely eyes. "it will be terribly dangerous, dick," said yvette, with an altogether new note of anxiety in her voice. "i suppose it will," replied dick, "but,"--and his voice hardened as he spoke--"i don't see what else we can do. we cannot run the risk of seeing a perfected helicopter in german hands. it would be too fearful a weapon. we must get hold of the plans and destroy the machine, whatever the risk may be." strange stories had come through the french secret service of a new and wonderful type of aircraft which was being tested with the utmost secrecy somewhere in the neighbourhood of spandau, the great military town near berlin. of its precise character little was known or could be ascertained, and even regnier, the astute and energetic head of the french secret service, had at length to confess himself utterly beaten. his cleverest agents had been baffled; more than one was in a german prison, with little hope of an early release. in the meantime the mysterious machine flitted about the neighbourhood of the great garrison, always at night, appearing and disappearing under circumstances which proved conclusively that it must be of a type which differed widely from any yet known to the public. "we must go, dick," said yvette, "and regnier is extremely anxious that you should help us. his trouble is that while he has dozens of capable men at his command none of them has a really expert knowledge of aviation. he thinks that if you once got a good look at the machine you could form a complete idea of what it really is." "very well," said dick, "we will look upon it as settled. we must work out a plan." for many months dick manton had been working steadily and secretly at veneux nadon under the auspices, though not actually in the employ, of the french secret service. he had offered the plans of the mohawk to the british war office, only to be met with a reception so chilly as effectually to discourage him from proceeding further in the matter. regnier, however, was a man of a different stamp from the british bureaucrat--keen as mustard and with the saving touch of imagination which is characteristic of the best type of frenchman. he had unbounded faith in yvette, who had for some time been one of his most trusted lieutenants, and when, angry at the attitude of the british war office, she had given him a hint of what the mohawk could really do, he had offered dick the fullest facilities for continuing his work. under the circumstances dick had felt that to refuse would have been absurd. veneux nadon was a lonely little spot. here dick, though only thirty miles from paris, found himself in complete seclusion, with a well-equipped workshop in large grounds completely buried in the lovely forest, and thoroughly screened from prying eyes. regnier had put the matter to him quite plainly. "you are an englishman, monsieur manton," he had said, "and i will not ask you to sell your secret to france. but we are willing to bear the expense of perfecting your invention on the distinct understanding that when the time comes england shall have the option of sharing in it to the exclusion of all other countries except france. when you are ready we will officially invite the british government to send a representative and will give them the opinion of coming in on equal terms. i do not think we can do more or less." so it was settled, and for many months dick and jules had toiled on the building of a new mohawk whose performances far surpassed those of the machine lost in the adriatic. it was now completed and its preliminary tests had satisfied them that they had forged a weapon of tremendous potency. the machine was of the helicopter type. the idea, of course, was not new, but dick had solved a problem which for many years had baffled inventors whose dream it was to construct a machine which should have the power of rising vertically from the ground and remaining stationary in the air. driven upward by powerful propellers placed horizontally underneath the body, the mohawk was capable of rising from the ground at a tremendous speed. once in the air the lifting propellers were shut off and the machine moved forward under the impulse of the driving screws placed in the front and rear. these screws were the secret of dick manton's triumph. they were of a new design, giving a tremendous ratio of efficiency. in size they wore relatively tiny, but possessed far greater power than any propeller known. the machine itself was nearly square. the body was completely covered by the big, single plane, measuring about twenty feet each way. this was the outside size of the machine and so perfectly was the helicopter controlled that dick had repeatedly brought it to earth in a marked space not more than thirty-two feet square. fitted with the new silencer which dick had discovered and applied to the old mohawk with such signal success, the engine was practically noiseless. at high speed the tiny propellers emitted only a thin, wailing note, barely audible a few yards away. time and again dick had sailed on dark nights only a few feet above the house roofs of paris and had found that the noise of the ordinary traffic was amply sufficient to prevent his presence being discovered. to ensure absolute secrecy the various parts of the machine had been made in widely separated districts of france, and had been brought from paris to veneux nadon, where dick and jules had carried out the erection of the machine alone. the very existence of the new aeroplane was utterly unsuspected by the few villagers who lived in the neighbourhood. keenly interested in his work dick had thoroughly enjoyed the peaceful life in the depths of the beautiful forest. he and jules had become the closest of friends, and with yvette, whose winning personality seemed to bind him to her more closely day by day, they made up a happy house party. they were looked after by a capable old peasant woman who was the devoted slave of all three, but whose admiration for yvette seemed to rise almost to the point of veneration. on the day following the conversation recorded above, they were surprised to receive a visit from regnier himself--an alert, dark-eyed man who seemed seriously perturbed. "there is no time to be lost," he declared. "i hear to-day from gaston that he has managed to get a near view of the new german machine. he says it rose apparently from the flat roof of a house standing in its own grounds outside spandau. he happened to be near and caught sight of it just in time. of course it was dark and he could see no details. but he is positive that the machine rose nearly straight up from the flat roof at an angle far too steep for any of our machines. that alone is sufficient to show that the germans have got hold of something new and valuable. he waited for a long time, and finally saw the machine return. he declares it landed again on the roof. evidently, monsieur manton, they have found out something along the lines of your invention, even if they have not actually got your secret." "how far away was gaston when he saw it?" asked dick. "it must have been at least a quarter of a mile," replied regnier, "as the grounds are very extensive. gaston dared not venture an attempt to get inside; the high fence is utterly unscalable, and the two lodge gates are always kept locked and there is a keeper at each." "and he heard the engine?" "yes, he says so specifically," replied the chief. "well," said dick, "at any rate we are ahead of them to that extent. if it had been my machine he would not have heard the engine at all at that distance." "however," he went on, "it is evidently time we acted. now, monsieur regnier, mademoiselle pasquet has told me what you want. i am willing to go. but i shall have to take the mohawk. how are we to hide it? i can get over and back at night safely enough, but to hide the machine in the day-time will be another matter." "gaston can arrange that," the chief declared. "you know he has a farm a short distance outside, spandau. there is a big barn there with no sides, and your machine can be easily dragged into it and concealed during the day. you know gaston is passing as a german farmer. he has acted for years for us in this way and has never even been suspected. but you could not stay long." "very good," said dick. "i think the best plan will be for jules to go by motor and for mademoiselle to go separately by train. they must find out somehow exactly where the german plane is lodged and, if possible, where the plans are likely to be kept, and i must act accordingly. in any case, there will be no difficulty in smashing up the machine, but unless we destroy the plans as well they will be building another too soon to suit us. i will go to verdun and wait there with the mohawk until the time comes for me to fly over." jules and yvette left the next day. jules' car was quite an ordinary one, but it had one important detail added. in the hollow flooring was cunningly concealed a small but powerful wireless telegraph set, the power for which was supplied by the engine. it was highly efficient, but had one serious drawback; it could only be used while the car was at rest owing to the necessity for running an aerial wire up some tall structure, such as a building or a tree. this, in a country where every one was specially suspicious of spies, was a serious peril. three days later seven mysterious dots began to excite the ungovernable curiosity of the wireless world! jules and yvette, on arrival in berlin, had taken rooms adjoining one another at the "adlon," the big cosmopolitan hotel which is always crowded with visitors from every country under the sun. yvette posed as a school teacher on an educational tour, but her position was one of great danger. it was impossible to disguise her face, and although she had done what she could to destroy her french individuality by wearing peculiarly hideous german clothes, there was the ever-present danger that she would be seen and recognised by some of the many german agents who during the war had learnt to know her features, and who had good reason to remember her daring exploits in alsace. at the same time, in order to have a possible retreat in a humbler neighbourhood, yvette had hired a room in one of the mean quarters of the town, putting in a few miserable sticks of furniture and giving out that she was a sempstress employed at one of the big shops. she and jules had decided never to speak in public. it was essential, however, that they should be able to communicate freely, and through the wall between their rooms jules had bored with a tiny drill a hole through which he had passed a wire of a small pocket telephone. they could thus talk with ease and with the doors of their rooms locked they were absolutely safe from detection so long as they spoke in a whisper. it was on a dark night, the sky obscured by heavy masses of clouds, that dick rose in the mohawk from the forest of fontainebleau and headed for verdun. a couple of hours' flying brought him over the fortress and he descended in a clearing in a dense wood where he was welcomed by captain le couteur, the chief engineer of the military wireless station. covered with big tarpaulins, the mohawk was left under the guard of a dozen zouaves, and dick and captain le couteur motored to the citadel. here the captain took dick directly into the steel-walled chamber deep under the fortifications which was the brain of the defences of verdun. it was the nucleus of the entire system of telegraph and telephone wires which, in time of war, would keep the commander of the troops in the district fully informed of everything that was happening in every sector of the defences. the innermost room of all, where none but the captain himself had access, contained the secret codes which dozens of foreign agents would have willingly risked their lives to possess. their efforts--and they knew it--would have been in vain, for the chamber was guarded day and night by a band of picked men whose fidelity to france was utterly beyond the possibility of suspicion. "your messages have already started--the seven dots at intervals of seven seconds," said captain le couteur when they were comfortably seated in the innermost room. "i got half a dozen test calls last night and everything seems to be working well. i expect they are arousing some interest, for operators all over europe will be mystified. there will be another call about nine o'clock and in the meantime you had better get some sleep. i will call you if anything happens." dick stretched himself on a couch and slept peacefully. nine o'clock found him with captain le couteur seated in the innermost room at a table covered with delicate wireless apparatus. turning a switch, the captain lit up the row of little valves, put the receiving set in operation, and assuming one headpiece himself, handed another to dick. he placed his hand upon one of the ebonite knobs of the complicated apparatus and slowly turned it. then he turned a second condenser very carefully. "we are on the ordinary six-hundred-metre wave-length now," the captain explained, "and shall remain so until we get our seven dots. i am bound to keep the machine so or i should miss other messages i ought to hear. but we will change as soon as we get your signal." presently they came, sharp and clear, dot-dot-dot-dot-dot-dot-dot. immediately captain le couteur made some swift adjustments. "now listen," he said, "we are on a three-hundred-and-fifty-metre wave-length." a moment later came three m's--three pairs of dashes. "that's code five," said captain le couteur. "now we shall get the real message." it came in what to dick was a gibberish of letters and figures, but captain le couteur wrote it down and then, decoding it, read it off with the skill of the expert. it ran: "m m m begins have located the machine stop apparently entirely new type stop tell manton to be ready stop m m m ends." "that's our newest code," the captain explained, "and this is the first time it has been used. jules learnt it only just before he left. it is very unlikely that the message has been picked up by anyone else, as the wave-length is quite low, but even if it was, no one could decipher the code from such a short message. they would want one very much longer, and even then it would probably take at least a week or ten days of very hard work by a lot of experts." and he paused. "i think it would be well now for one of us to be constantly here," he went on. "perhaps, too, you would like to overhaul your machine so as to have it absolutely ready to get away at a moment's notice. my fellows will give you any help you want and they are all absolutely to be depended upon not to talk." dick soon had the mohawk ready; indeed there was not much to do after such a short trip as the flight to verdun. the rest of the day he spent chatting with captain le couteur, finding him a delightful companion and full of enthusiasm on the subject of wireless, of which his knowledge seemed boundless. dick felt he could never tire of admiring the wonderfully ingenious devices which the other had invented and put into operation in his underground fortress. several more messages, chiefly brief reports, were received from jules, always heralded by the seven dots and begun with the three m's which signified the secret code number five. for a few hours everything seemed to be going well. then, towards evening came graver news, which on being deciphered, read: "m m m begins much fear yvette suspected stop tell manton to be ready instant action stop m m m ends." it could only mean, they realised, that yvette had been recognised by a german agent and was being closely watched. the position was dangerous. dick spent the next few hours in an agony of suspense. but he could do nothing. his first instinct was to fly to berlin. but le couteur's iron common-sense showed him clearly enough that to do so would be futile. to keep the mohawk in germany, even for a single day, would be risky; to try to hide her there for perhaps a week till they got a chance to rescue yvette would be suicidal. a sudden swoop, swift and relentless action, and a quick escape were the essentials of success. captain le couteur was scarcely less anxious than dick himself. he had known yvette since she was a child; they came from the same town in alsace. but he possessed a brain of ice and restrained dick's impetuosity, though guessing shrewdly at its cause. "the time is not come yet," he declared. "this is a bit of business which must go to the last tick of the dock. mademoiselle herself would never forgive us if we spoilt everything by undue precipitation, and, after all, monsieur manton, france is of even more importance than mademoiselle pasquet, much as i admire her." "i know," dick admitted. "but when i think of her, with her war record, which they know all about, falling into the hands of those brutes, i can hardly sit still." "they have not got her yet and she is very clever," replied le couteur. "let us hope that she will give them the slip." but about ten o'clock the following morning the dreaded blow fell. they were seated in the underground chamber, dick ill at ease and full of gloomy forebodings. the apparatus set to receive messages on three-hundred-and-fifty-metres. suddenly a buzzing noise was emitted from the loud-speaking telephone on the bench. seven dots, seven times repeated, clicked out strong and dear! surely seconds had never passed so slowly! it seemed an age before captain le couteur, his face white as chalk, took down the message which followed, and then referring to the code, read: "yvette arrested this morning by kranzler." dick turned dizzy and the room spun round him as the dreadful significance of the words struck him. kranzler, of all men! the murderer of yvette's father and mother, the man whom she had beaten over and over again at his own game of espionage during the war, the man whose sensational attempt to dispose of rasputin's stolen jewels had been foiled by yvette's skill and daring! he was, as they knew, a desperate brute who would stick at nothing to feed his revenge. dick was rushing from the room, determined at all hazards to leave for berlin at once, when le couteur seized his arm in a grip of iron. "steady, manton," he said sharply. "don't be a fool. you'll spoil everything. sit down and wait for more news." the words brought dick to his senses. "i'm sorry, le couteur," he said, "but i think i went a bit mad. you are quite right. but kranzler--of all men! you know the story, of course?" le couteur nodded. "it could hardly be worse," he admitted, "and there's no use disguising the fact. but we must wait for more from jules. in the meantime i am going to talk to regnier. he must have more men on the spot. at all costs mademoiselle must be rescued." they were soon in touch with the chief in paris, who was horrified at the news. "i will get some more men over at once," he said. "but we can do nothing until we find out where they have taken her. jules will realise that. you are certain to get another message from him before long." it was not until later that day that they learned how the arrest had been effected. yvette, as soon as the position of the german plane had been located, had managed in the guise of a girl seeking work, to scrape acquaintance with one of the maids employed at the big house where the aeroplane was lodged. the girl had actually taken her up to the house and yvette had coolly applied to the housekeeper for employment. there was, as it happened, no vacancy, but yvette had used her eyes to good purpose. in the walk from the lodge to the house and back she had caught sight of the shed in which, obviously, the aeroplane was housed, and had noted its exact position in the extensive grounds. hurrying back to the hotel she had communicated this information to jules and both were filled with excitement at the important step forward they had made. sitting in the lounge of the "adlon" next morning jules had seen kranzler enter. he had started at once to warn yvette to "lie low," but was just too late. yvette at that moment came down the staircase and before jules could interpose had met kranzler face to face. she was instantly recognised. with a grin of delight on his evil face the big german bowed profoundly. "this is indeed a pleasure, mademoiselle pasquet!" he said ironically. yvette very coolly tried to carry it off. "monsieur has, i think, made a mistake," she said in german. "it's no use, mademoiselle," was the harsh reply, "i know you perfectly. you must come with me--or shall i call the police?" there was obviously nothing for it but to obey, and yvette was forced to leave the hotel in the clutches of the one man in all germany she had the greatest reason to fear. jules acted promptly. slipping out of the hotel he hurriedly wheeled to the front a motor-bicycle he had hired to enable him to travel speedily between berlin and spandau. he got round just in time to see kranzler put yvette into a taxi, and followed them until they alighted at the door of the house in the koeniggratzer-strasse which was the head-quarters of the german secret service. yvette was taken inside. to get the news to dick was now jules' first consideration. knowing something of the methods of the german secret service he was reasonably sure that yvette would be put through a long examination before she was taken to prison, and he decided to run the risk of being absent for a short time to get his message away. he drove hastily in his car out into the country until he found a tree to which his aerial wire could be attached and got off the brief message which conveyed the news to verdun. then he returned to watch, and ascertain where yvette was to be imprisoned. the taxi was still outside the door when he got back to the koeniggratzer-strasse. as an excuse for waiting he feigned engine trouble and tinkered with his machine, keeping all the time a close watch on the door opposite. he had not long to wait. in about half an hour yvette was brought out, still in the custody of kranzler, and driven away. jules followed, and, at length, had the satisfaction of knowing that yvette was in the big prison outside spandau. it was a melancholy satisfaction, it is true, but to know where she was was of supreme importance. driving to gaston's farm he soon informed verdun where yvette was located and then turned to discuss the position with gaston. to his intense surprise and delight, gaston was able to give him some comfort. "of course, it is a great misfortune," he said, "but it might be worse. they have taken her to the one prison in germany where we have been able to keep a thoroughly trustworthy agent. he is a warder who passes as herman fuchs; his real name is pierre latour. we shall soon know all about mademoiselle." the front of the prison was in dear view from gaston's farm. going outside, he called on jules to help him to move one of three large barrels, each containing a big flowering shrub, which stood side by side in front of the house facing the prison. one of these was taken away, leaving only two. "we shall have pierre over here this evening," gaston chuckled. "that's the signal that i want him." sure enough, soon after dark, pierre appeared. a few words explained the situation. he was off duty now for the night and free to do as he pleased. "leave it to me," he said. "i will be back in an hour." he returned with a rough plan of the section of the prison in which yvette was confined. her cell occupied a corner on the first floor at the head of a flight of steps leading down to the big courtyard. if yvette could get out of her cell it would be an easy matter to reach the door leading to the yard. but to get over the high wall, quite unclimbable, was a difficult problem. the entrance from the roadway was always guarded by two warders who occupied little separate lodges placed one each side the gateway. "i can get her out of her cell," said pierre, "but how to get her out of the yard i don't know. i can get a false key to her during the day, but if i were found in that quarter of the prison at night it would mean instant dismissal. on that point the rules are inflexible and we cannot risk it." "no," said gaston, "it is absolutely essential that you shall remain in the prison. but i think i can see a way." he crossed the room to an old-fashioned bureau and produced from a drawer what looked like a heavy short-barrelled pistol. "gas!" he said laconically, "fire that at a man's face within five yards and he will drop like a log. it holds four shots and makes no noise. if mademoiselle can get this she can knock out the two men at the lodge and easily slip out. you can bring her straight here, and we can hide her until she can get away." "she cannot hide that in her cell," said pierre, "but i can hide it in the courtyard. write her a letter telling her exactly what to do and where the pistol will be. i can slip into her cell a skeleton key which will open the door and also the door at the bottom of the steps. but you must manage the rest; i cannot do any more. she must get out immediately after the last visit of the warders at nine o'clock." "thanks very much, pierre," said jules. "i can see no other way, and at all costs we must try to get her out. neither my sister nor myself will ever forget." speedily a letter was written which gave yvette full details of what was proposed, and pierre was about to leave when jules asked him if he had heard anything of the secret aeroplane. pierre shook his head. "there are a lot of privately owned aeroplanes about here," he said, "but i don't know anything more than that. i have seen the one you refer to going up at night--the house is in plain view from my room on the first floor of the prison--but i never heard there was any secret about it, and there are so many aeroplanes about that no one takes any notice of them." jules told him all they had found out, and of their suspicions, and found pierre was able to give them valuable information. the aeroplane shed, he told them, was just where yvette had located it. above it--and this was important--were some rooms which were used, apparently, as offices. "i have often," said pierre, "seen a man come from the offices with what looked like plans, make examination and measurements of the machine, and then go back. but i never took much notice; i had no reason to." pierre left, taking with him the letter to yvette. for an hour jules and gaston discussed the situation. "we must get her out to-morrow," declared gaston, "or else they may take her away and we shall not be able to find out where she is. manton ought to fly over to-morrow night. if we can get mademoiselle pasquet out she can hide here quite safely for a few hours, but there will be a very close search when her escape is discovered." "i'll get the message to manton at once," said jules. and so it happened that dick and le couteur, who had been waiting for hours in a state of tense anxiety, received a few minutes later the call. "m m m begins to-morrow night stop come early as possible stop three lights in triangle safe stop four keep off m m m ends." "at last," said dick grimly, with a look on his face that boded ill for some one. he looked drawn and haggard, and even le couteur could hardly repress a shudder at the savage determination that blazed in his eyes. for yvette the next day was one of misery. time after time she was dragged from her cell and taken before the governor of the prison, and kranzler, to be pitilessly cross-questioned and even threatened with violence. but even though she knew well that the two brutes were quite capable of carrying out their threats nothing could break the spirit of the french girl. to all their questions and menaces she turned a deaf ear and nothing they could say would induce her to affirm or deny anything. utterly worn out she was at length roughly bundled back into her cell, where she dropped exhausted on the miserable apology for a bed. at least she was alone. it was about five o'clock and she had fallen into an uneasy doze, when she was awakened by a slight noise at the door. she saw the observation grille slide back and, pushed through the grating, a tiny parcel fell with a subdued clink on the floor. then the grating was closed. hastily she sprang to her feet and seized the parcel, a new hope surging in her breast. it could only mean help! inside the parcel was a letter, unsigned of course, but in jules' handwriting, and a small key. nine o'clock came, and with all the wearisome ceremony dear to the german heart, the guard, accompanied by a wardress, made its final inspection for the night. a few minutes after the big prison was as silent as the grave. half an hour later yvette cautiously fitted the key into the lock. it had been well oiled, and the door swung open without a sound. creeping down the flight of steps yvette found that the key also opened the door at the bottom, and in a moment she was in the yard. rain was falling heavily. there was not a ray of light in the yard excepting a faint gleam which showed the position of the warders' lodges. before leaving her cell yvette had pulled her stockings over her boots, and moving without a sound she groped her way along the wall. a few feet from the door she found the big stackpipe which brought the rain water from the roof. stooping she lifted the iron grid of the drain and thrust in her hand. her fingers closed on the butt end of the gas pistol. silently, following along the wall in preference to crossing the courtyard, she stole towards the lodge. complete surprise was essential. with the pistol ready in her hand, she softly opened the door of the lodge on the right of the gateway. luck was with her again. the two men, in defiance of rules, were in the same lodge talking quietly. the noise of the door opening brought them to their feet with a jump. but they were too late. only ten feet away from them yvette pulled the trigger twice in rapid succession. there was no more noise than a slight hiss as the gas escaped and the two men dropped insensible. snatching up a bunch of keys from the table, yvette herself half-stifled, quickly got outside and closed the door. a moment later she had opened the wicket-gate and slipped through. she almost fell into the arms of jules and gaston, and at top speed the three raced through the rain for gaston's farm. luckily, the pouring rain swiftly obliterated their footprints, but they had hardly got into hiding, wet through but triumphant, when pandemonium broke out in the prison, and the frantic ringing of the big bell announced the escape of a prisoner. the two warders, of course, had speedily recovered, and hastened to tell their story, and a quick search had revealed that yvette's cell was empty. a few minutes later search parties were hurrying in every direction in pursuit of the fugitive. gaston's farm, lying close to the prison, was naturally one of the first places to be visited. gaston, smoking peacefully by the fireside, soon heard, as he expected, the savage clamour of dogs in the farmyard mingled with agonised cries for help. he hurried out. two warders, one of them badly bitten, were backed against the fence, hardly keeping at bay with their sticks a couple of powerful dogs. gaston called off the dogs and, full of apparent solicitude, expressed his regret. he listened to the guards' explanation. "she cannot have been here," he declared, "the dogs would have bitten her to pieces. but, of course, we will look round if you like." the guards, however, were more than satisfied. gaston's argument was backed by their own experience, and they were quite ready to be convinced if they could only get away from the ferocious dogs who continually prowled about snarling as though even the presence of their master was hardly sufficient to protect his visitors. they little dreamed that the savage brutes would indeed have torn yvette to pieces had not gaston thoughtfully taken the precaution to lock them up before he and jules started to rescue her! away at verdun dick stood beside the mohawk waiting impatiently in the dark. time and again he had tested every nut and screw in the machine; time and again he had run the powerful engine to make sure that it was in working order. at last the longed for moment for action came. anything was better than long drawn-out suspense. he wrung le couteur's hand as he stepped into the machine. "i'll be back with her by dawn," he said, "or else--" there was no need to finish the sentence. he had not gone five minutes before le couteur received a message from jules announcing that yvette had escaped. if only dick had known! it was raining hard when the mohawk rose into the air, but dick was beyond caring for the weather, and anxious only for yvette, he sent the helicopter tearing through the darkness eastward to berlin. he drove almost automatically, his thoughts intent on the girl ahead of him. as he approached berlin, the weather cleared and the rain stopped. all around him were the navigation lights of the german mail and passenger planes, hurrying to every quarter of the empire, and, even in his anxiety, dick was conscious of an uneasy feeling of irritation at the thought that england was being left so far behind in the race for the mastery of the air. then he caught sight of the great beams of light that marked the position of the huge berlin aerodrome, and a few minutes' flying brought him above spandau. he circled twice, looking for gaston's signals, and at last he dropped lower, caught the gleam of the three lanterns which gaston had placed to guide him, and brought the machine swiftly down beside the big barn. then he leaped from his seat. he nearly gave a shout of joy that would have aroused every german within a mile! for there, in the light of the lanterns, stood yvette herself. there was no time for explanation. "now's your chance," gasped jules, wild with excitement, "the german plane has just gone up!" dick's face hardened instantly. "get in, yvette," he said curtly. yvette stared in utter astonishment. this was a new dick with a vengeance! all his usual graceful courtesy had dropped from him in the instant; the sheer fighting spirit was on top and dick was, for the moment, the officer giving commands to his subordinates. his face was set like granite, and into the keen eyes there came a look yvette had never seen there before. the cheerful, laughing "pal" had gone; in its place stood the fighting machine, pitiless and efficient. for an instant the girl was almost on the edge of rebellion; then she turned, and, without a word, took her place in the machine. as she did so, she caught dick's eye. for an instant the stern face relaxed; then the iron mask shut down again. for five minutes, while yvette put on her leather helmet, dick studied the plan which jules showed to him by the light of a shaded lantern. when the mohawk jumped into the air every detail of it was photographed indelibly on his brain. for three thousand feet the mohawk shot upward at a speed which left yvette dizzy and breathless. then they hung motionless, as dick peered anxiously earthward. were they high enough? with a smothered exclamation yvette pointed downward. far below them a light was circling swiftly, darting hither and thither like a will o' the wisp. no mail plane would behave like that. dick decided that here was his quarry. silently the mohawk came down till it was not more than five hundred feet above its unsuspecting prey, the loud drone of whose engine came clearly on the air. dick swung round in a circle, following every movement of the machine below, with a swift precision which yvette keenly appreciated. dick had made up his mind that the offices above the aeroplane shed probably held the key to the problem they had to solve. he knew he could destroy the machine itself. but that would not be enough if the plans remained intact; a new machine could quickly be built. if he could destroy the plans, on the other hand, there would be at least a lot of delay, which would enable the french agents to perfect their plans for discovering the secret. in all probability, he reasoned, the office would serve as the draughtsmen's workroom, and if this were so, a well-placed bomb might destroy the labour of months. so he watched and waited, until at length they saw the german aeroplane going home. it came down in a wonderfully steep descent which was enough to tell dick that the germans had indeed made a discovery of great importance, and landed so slowly that dick could hardly believe his eyes. but, at least, he saw enough to be sure that the descent was not the vertical drop of his own helicopter. his secret remained his own! close beside the shed a couple of hooded airmen alighted. lights were switched on and they began a careful examination of the machine. five hundred feet above dick watched the figures with interest. suddenly the men below stiffened and looked skyward, listening intently. evidently they had caught the faint sound of dick's propellers. a glance through his bomb sights showed dick that he was in the position he desired. there was now no possible escape for the craft below. then one of the men pointed upward. even in the darkness he had caught a glimpse of the mohawk. dick's hand shot to the bomb controls and he pulled a trigger. a petrol bomb fell squarely on the german plane and burst with a soft explosion, barely audible. a sheet of fire followed, and in an instant the german plane was a mass of flames, fed by the petrol which streamed from its tanks. one of the germans was caught in the outburst and apparently died almost instantly. the second man, however, dashed into the office. the mohawk moved forward a few feet and three more bombs fell in quick succession, right on the roof of the shed. then, her work done, she rose high into the air and dick and yvette watched the results. the shed below them was already a furnace. apparently there must have been some petrol tanks there, for no ordinary building could have burned so furiously. in a few minutes nothing remained but a heap of glowing embers. dick watched keenly for the man who had run into the office, but he never reappeared, and it was evident that, trapped by the flames, he had been unable to get out in time, and had perished. dick little suspected at the time how important the fate of that man was to prove. then dick set the mohawk at top speed for home. just as dawn was breaking verdun loomed ahead. yvette was saved. two days later the _berliner tageblatt_ told how the famous scientist, professor zingler, had perished in a fire which had destroyed his laboratory at spandau. the fire was attributed to an explosion of petrol on the professor's aeroplane which had set light to the office. unfortunately, the paper added, all the professor's valuable papers and books had been lost. the secret of the zingler aeroplane had perished, and the seven dots were never heard again. chapter four. the sorcerer of soho. "unless we can solve this terrible mystery in the course of a few weeks, it is hardly too much to say that england is doomed." the speaker was the white-haired professor durward, the distinguished head of the royal society. he sat facing the prime minister in the latter's room at , downing street. round the long table were grouped the members of the cabinet. they were men who had lived through stormy and troublous times and had met stories of disaster without flinching. but, as they admitted afterwards, none of the terrible tidings of past years, when the fortunes of the empire seemed to be tottering, had affected them to the same extent as the few brief words with which the distinguished savant summed up the long deliberations on which they had been engaged. they seemed pregnant with the very message of fate. almost they could see the writing on the wall. "but, professor," asked the premier, "do you really mean that nothing whatever can be done to check or prevent this terrible malady?" "nothing, so far as i am aware," was the reply. "as you know the most distinguished men of science in england have been at work on the problem. we had a very full meeting last night, and the unanimous verdict was that the disease was not only absolutely incurable, but that nothing we have tried seems capable of affording even the slightest alleviation. the deaths reported already amount to nearly half a million; though the truth is being carefully concealed from the public in order to allay panic, yet practically every community in which the disease has appeared has been virtually wiped out. curiously enough it does not seem to be spread by contagion. in spite of the rush of terrified people from districts in which it has appeared, no cases have shown themselves except in towns or villages where the mysterious violet cloud has been observed. that phenomenon has been the precursor of every outbreak." a month before, in the tiny village of moorcrest, buried in the recesses of the chilterns, an unoccupied house had suddenly collapsed with a slight explosion. no one was in the house at the time, and no one was injured. as to the cause of the explosion no one could form an idea. nothing in the nature of the remains of a bomb could be discovered, and there was no gas laid on in the village. but the few villagers who were about at the time spoke of seeing a dense cloud of pale violet vapour pouring from the ruins. on this point all observers were agreed, and they all agreed, too, that the cloud was accompanied by a powerful smell which strongly resembled a combination of petrol and musk. that was all the evidence that could be collected. no harm seemed to follow and the matter was speedily forgotten. very soon, however, the incident took on a new and sinister significance. a week later a similar explosion took place in ancoats, a poor and densely crowded suburb of manchester. in every respect this incident duplicated the happening at moorcrest. naturally, it created something of a sensation, and the papers, recalling the moorcrest mystery, made the most of it. during the next fortnight similar explosions, all bearing the same distinguishing features, occurred in various parts of england. sometimes there would be three or four in a single day in the same, or closely adjoining, areas. the public became excited. not a single person was injured, the damage done was apparently trifling, since all the houses destroyed were of the poorest class. it looked like the work of a maniac--purposeless and without the slightest trace of a motive. people spoke of bolshevists and communists. but what bolshevik or communist, others asked, would waste time and effort to inflict such absurd pinpricks on society? they were soon to be undeceived. an enemy of society was indeed at work armed with a weapon of a potency which far outstripped the paltry efforts of the terrorists of old, to whom the bomb and the revolver were the means of world regeneration. the explosion at moorcrest took place on may nd. twelve days later, on may th, doctor clare-royden, who was in practice at little molton, a village about four miles from moorcrest, received an urgent message from an old patient summoning him to moorcrest. doctor royden, jumping on his motor-bicycle, answered the summons at once. a terrible surprise awaited him. practically every inhabitant of the village, about a hundred people in all, were in the grip of a fearful and, so far as doctor royden's knowledge went, wholly unknown malady. its principal symptoms were complete paralysis of the arms which were strained and twisted in a terrible manner, fever which mounted at a furious speed, and agonising pains in the head. many of the victims were already _in extremis_, several died even while the doctor was examining them, and in the course of a few hours practically everyone attacked by the disease had succumbed. the only ones to recover were a few children, too young to give any useful information. it would be useless to trace or describe the excitement which followed, even though the press, at the instigation of the government, was silent upon the matter. help was rushed to moorcrest, the dead were interred and the living helped in every way. the ministry of health sent down its most famous experts to investigate. one and all admitted that they were completely baffled. on may st ancoats was the scene of an appalling outbreak of the disease. people in the densely packed areas died like flies. but there were some remarkable circumstances which drew the attention of the trained observers who rushed to the spot to inquire into the phenomenon. ancoats had been the scene of the second explosion twelve days before. it was not long before a health official noticed the coincidence that the outbreaks at moorcrest and ancoats occurred exactly twelve days after the explosions in each place. the coincidence was, of course, remarked upon as somewhat suspicious, but it was not until it was reproduced in the terrible outbreak at nottingham that suspicion became a practical certainty. it was speedily confirmed by repeated outbreaks in other parts of the country. in each case the mysterious malady broke out exactly twelve days after the appearance of the violet vapour. in all cases the symptoms were precisely alike, and the percentage of deaths was appalling. neither remedy nor palliative could be devised, and the best medical brains in the country confessed themselves baffled. by this time there was no room for doubt that the terror was the deliberate work of some human fiend who had won a frightful secret from nature's great laboratory. but who could it be, and what possible object could he have? leading scientific men of all nations poured in to england to help. for it was now recognised that civilisation as a whole was menaced; the fate of england to-day might be the fate of any other nation to-morrow. france and the united states sent important missions; even russia and germany were represented by famous bacteriologists and health experts. international jealousies and rivalries appeared to be laid aside, and even the secret service, most suspicious of rivals, began for once to co-operate and place at each other's disposal information which might prove useful in tracking down the author of the mysterious pestilence. on the day of the meeting of the british cabinet, two men and a pretty, dark-haired french girl were keenly discussing the terrible problem in a small but tastefully furnished flat in the avenue kleber, in paris. "i know only three people in the world with brains enough to carry the thing out," said the girl. "they are ivan petroff, the russian; paolo caetani, the italian, and sebastian gonzalez, the spaniard. they are all three avowed anarchists, and, as we know, they are all chemists and bacteriologists of supreme ability. but i must say that there is not a scrap of evidence to connect either of them with this affair." the speaker was yvette pasquet, and there was no one in whom regnier, the astute head of the french secret service, placed more implicit confidence. "if the doctors could settle whether this poisoning is chemical or bacteriological it would help us a great deal," said dick manton. "if it is chemical, i should be disposed to include barakoff; he knows more about chemistry than all the others put together. but in any case, there is as yet nothing we can even begin to work on." a fortnight went past. the death-roll in england had assumed terrible proportions, and apparently the authorities were as far off as ever from coming to grips with the mystery. but a clue came through the heroism of a london policeman. one night constable jervis was patrolling a beat which led him through some tumbledown streets in the lowest quarter of canning town. suddenly he caught sight of a man rushing from a small empty house. at once jervis started in pursuit of the man, who was running hard away from him. as he did so, there came the sound of an explosion, and the house the man had just left collapsed like a pack of cards. at the same time the odour of the dreaded violet vapour completely filled the narrow street. the terror had attacked london, and jervis knew that to cross that zone of vapour meant certain death. he did not hesitate. muffling his face with his pocket handkerchief as he ran, he dashed at full speed after the stranger, whom he could just discern. he crossed the zone of death, almost overpowered by the curious scent of petrol and musk that loaded the still air, and a moment later was in pursuit, blowing his whistle loudly as he ran. a moment later a second policeman, hearing his colleague's whistle, stood at the end of the road barring the way. the desperado was trapped. snatching out a revolver, the man backed against the wall and opened fire on his pursuers who were rapidly closing in on him. but both the policemen were armed, and both opened fire. jervis's second shot killed the man on the spot. he proved to be a well-known member of a russian anarchist group which had its head-quarters in the slums of soho. the gallant jervis had faced certain death--as a matter of fact he was among the hundred or so victims when the epidemic broke out twelve days later--but he had done his duty in accordance with the splendid traditions of the force to which he belonged. the source of the mysterious epidemic was now, to a certain extent, localised. it needed no great acumen to guess the motive and origin of the fiendish plot. but to discover the master-mind which held the full solution of the mystery was another matter. the first step was a general round-up of known members of the anarchist party. they were arrested by dozens, and very soon practically all who were known were under lock and key. to the intense surprise of the police, one and all acknowledged that they were fully familiar with the scheme. many of them had actually taken part in its execution. the secret had been well kept! the explosions, it was learned, were caused by small bombs about the size of an orange. these were placed in the selected houses and timed to explode in a few hours. evidently there was some defect in the mechanism of the one sent to canning town, and the man who placed it there must have seen that it was likely to explode prematurely and rushed in panic from the house. but of the source of the bombs one and all of the men professed complete ignorance. they were, it was asserted, received by post from different places on the continent. it was evident that the crafty scoundrel at the head of the terrible organisation took elaborate precautions to prevent their sources of origin being discovered. but to have traced the outbreak to anarchist sources was a step of the first importance. immediately every branch of the secret service of the western world was concentrated on the problem. a hint from one of the men captured, who collapsed under the cross-examination to which the known leaders were subjected, put the police in possession of one of the bombs. it had arrived by post the day before, and the miscreant to whom it was sent was caught before he had time to make use of it. it was now possible to prove definitely that the disease caused by the bombs was chemical in its origin. upon analysis the powder with which the bomb was filled was found to consist of a series of, apparently, quite harmless chemicals. a small portion fired by the detonator found in the bomb gave off dense clouds of the pale-violet vapour, and animals exposed to it were speedily killed, exhibiting every symptom of the terrible disease. unhappily the secret of the detonator used defied discovery. the one found in the bomb had been used in the only experiment that had been made, and too late it was discovered that no fulminating material known would explode the apparently harmless powder. "that seems to narrow it down to barakoff," said dick manton a few days later when regnier brought them the news. "i don't think either of the others is equal to research work capable of producing such results. do you know where barakoff is now?" he asked in french. regnier shook his head. "he was in moscow a year ago," he replied, "and after that we heard of him in prague, in rome, and lastly in madrid, but he disappeared suddenly and we have not been able to pick up his tracks again. he is a short, powerful, thickset man with a rather hunched back, but nothing else peculiar about his appearance." next day, however, regnier came to the adventurous trio in great excitement. "barakoff is in england!" he declared. "we have just had word from gaston meunier who saw him in brighton a week ago!" "but how on earth did he get there?" asked jules. "you know every one has been looking for him for months past. he could not possibly have got through by any of the ordinary routes." "i'm as puzzled as you are, monsieur," was regnier's reply. "well, if he is there we'd better go over," said dick. "yvette can go with me in mohawk ii and jules by the night boat. i shall fly the mohawk to my old shed in norfolk; i have kept it on in case of emergency, and it is quite safe." an hour later dick was in close talk with a young russian named nicholas fedoroff. he had been an active member of a circle of dangerous anarchists in zurich, but had dropped out and was now living in paris. by good fortune dick had saved his baby girl, at imminent risk of his own life, from being killed by a motor-van in paris, hence fedoroff was impulsively grateful. "look here, nicholas," said dick bluntly. "i want you to tell me anything you can about barakoff." they were seated in a small cafe in the rue caumartin, which was fedoroff's favourite haunt. the russian glanced round fearfully. "hush!" he said in broken french and in evident horror. "i--i can't tell you! he has agents everywhere. if i were heard even speaking his name i should never get home." the man's agitation was so pronounced that one or two men in the cafe glanced at him curiously. dick saw that the mere mention of barakoff's name had thrown the russian completely off his balance. "come to my flat," he said quietly, "you have got to tell me." they drove in a taxi to dick's flat, where a stiff dose of brandy pulled the russian together. yet he still trembled like a leaf. "how did you know that i knew barakoff?" he asked. instantly dick was keenly on the alert. he had no idea that fedoroff had been associated with the notorious criminal; his appeal to fedoroff had been a chance shot. evidently he had stumbled on a matter of importance. but he was quick to take advantage of his good luck. "never mind how," he said. "i do know, and that's enough. you have got to tell me. i believe barakoff is at the bottom of the trouble in england. i know he is there, and i want to know where he is and how he got there." the russian's agitation increased. "you must not ask me; i cannot tell you," he gasped. "then a few words from me in a certain quarter--not the police," dick suggested. the russian collapsed. "no, no, i will tell you," he moaned. "he is in england, but i don't know where. he flew over." "flew over!" echoed dick in utter amazement. "nonsense, he couldn't have got in that way. every aerodrome in england has been watched for months." "but he did," the russian asserted. "he has his own aeroplane. it makes no noise, and it goes straight up and down." here was a surprise indeed! the secret of the helicopter with its almost unlimited power for evil was also in the hands of one of the most desperate ruffians in the world! there was indeed no time to be lost. fedoroff could tell dick little more. what the secret of barakoff's influence over him was dick could not fathom. he would say nothing, but evidently was in deadly fear. one little item dick did indeed extract and it was to prove valuable. fedoroff knew that barakoff had associates in soho. and that was the only clue they could gain to his possible whereabouts. that evening dick, yvette, and jules crossed to england, and with official introductions from regnier, dick lost no time in getting into communication with detective inspector buckhurst, one of the ablest men of scotland yard's famous "special department," a man whose knowledge of the alien scum which infested london was unrivalled. to him dick told all he knew. buckhurst looked grave. "i know of the man, of course," he said, "but i have never seen him and i don't think any of my men have. we have combed soho out pretty thoroughly, but no one answering to barakoff's description has been seen." the position was very grave. if fedoroff's information was correct--and dick saw no reason to doubt it--here was a desperate scoundrel lurking in england armed with an aeroplane of unknown design and power, and in possession of a terrible secret which, unless his career was brought to an end, threatened the entire population of the country. but where was he hiding, and, above all, where was his machine? could it possibly be hidden, dick wondered, in the very heart of london? the idea was almost incredible, but dick knew barakoff's undoubted genius and his amazing daring. a remarkable feature of yvette's personality was her wonderful influence over children. they seemed literally to worship her. she would get into conversation with the half-tamed _gamins_ of the streets and in a few hours they would be her devoted slaves. she now proceeded to enlist the ragged battalions of soho in a fashion that caused buckhurst much amusement. "find out for me all the hunchbacked men you can," was all the instructions she gave them. "but, mademoiselle," said inspector buckhurst, "it will be the talk of soho, and our man if he is there will slip away." yvette was unmoved. "just think a minute," she said. "who can go about all day and all night without being suspected? the children. who can go into dens where your men hardly dare to venture? the children. who know all the hidden haunts of which your men are utterly ignorant? the children. and finally, who are the most secretive people in the world? again the children. do not fear, monsieur buckhurst, they will not talk except among themselves, and that will do no harm." buckhurst was far from satisfied, but he had gained such a respect for yvette that he did not venture to override her. at the same time, he told her plainly that he should keep his own men busy. yvette only laughed. during the next forty-eight hours dozens of hunchbacked men were reported. many of them were people whom not even the police knew. they were, of course, mostly harmless, but buckhurst opened his eyes when one of them proved to be a notorious forger for whom the police had been looking for some months, and who had all the time been hidden under their very noses! buckhurst began to feel a growing respect for the amazing french girl, who had beaten his smartest detectives on their own ground. but, unfortunately, none of the hunchbacks was the man they wanted, and at last they began to suspect that fedoroff's information was at fault. then came a dramatic surprise. one of yvette's small assistants, a sharp little polish jew boy, came to her with a strange story. he had been wandering about the night before and had seen a hunchbacked man let himself out of the side door of a big building half-way between greek street and war dour street. the man had walked a considerable distance in a northerly direction into a part of london the boy did not know at all, and had entered an unoccupied house, stayed a few minutes, and come out again. the lad had shadowed him all the way, and had followed him homewards, until he again entered the building in soho. dick, jules, and yvette turned out at once. the boy pointed out the building to them. it was a tall structure which dominated all the others in the vicinity. it was apparently a big shop with storerooms above. on the facia over the windows was the name "marcel deloitte, antique furniture." there was nothing to indicate that it differed in the slightest degree from dozens of other shops and buildings in the neighbourhood. yet dick felt suspicious. "we can do nothing till i get the mohawk handy," said dick. "i will bring her down to-night." and he paused. "i wish you would keep out of this, yvette," he went on wistfully. "it is going to be very dangerous, i am convinced." the french girl was growing very dear to him, and he shuddered at the idea of her being mixed up in the coming struggle with a desperado of barakoff's type. but yvette shook her head. "i'm in this to the finish, dick," was all she said in her pretty broken english, and dick knew he could not move her. but he was full of fear. that afternoon another explosion of the pale-violet vapour occurred in north london not far from finsbury park station. dick rushed to the spot with the boy who had followed the hunchbacked man, and the lad recognised the place without hesitation. the house destroyed was, he was confident, the one the hunchback had entered the night before. barakoff was located at last! but how was he to be captured? the problem was not so easy. it was vital that, if possible, he should be taken alive. they knew what would follow the explosion at finsbury park, and there was a chance at least that if barakoff were captured the secret of the disease, and possibly the antidote, might be wrung from him. if they could succeed in that hundreds of lives would be saved. together the three worked out a careful plan for the _coup_ they intended to bring off next morning. very early a dozen street arabs were playing innocently close to the two entrances of the mysterious building. they were chosen specimens of yvette's band of ragamuffin detectives, and she knew that if barakoff tried to escape he would have no chance of eluding their keen eyes. all the approaches were blocked by detectives, but yvette insisted that none should approach the house itself. it was essential to the success of their plan that barakoff's suspicions should not be aroused. from the roof of a big building half a mile away, dick made a careful examination of what he was now convinced was barakoff's hiding-place. but he could see little. the roof was flat, but it was surrounded by a parapet practically breast high. there was obviously plenty of room to conceal a small aeroplane, but dick could see nothing. dick and buckhurst together saw the proprietor of the building from which dick had made his observations. he readily consented to dick's plan, and towards evening placed a trusty commissionaire at the foot of the flight of steps leading to the roof with instructions that no one was to pass on any account whatever. soon after dark the mohawk dropped silently on to the flat roof. they were ready now to catch their bird! in the morning yvette, under the pretence of wishing to buy some old furniture, entered the shop. so far as she could see there was nothing suspicious. there was a manager, evidently a russian, and two assistants. asking for a jacobean chest which she did not see in the shop, yvette was at length invited to the upper floors. these she found to be full of furniture. climbing the stairs to the third floor, accompanied by the manager, yvette found herself in a large room divided in the centre by a wall, and with a door in the middle. opening this door the manager bowed to her to precede him, and yvette, quite unsuspectingly, obeyed. next second the door crashed to, and she heard a key turn in the lock. she was trapped! before she could recover from her astonishment there was a rush of feet behind her, and she found herself seized in a grip which, as she at once recognised, it was far beyond her strength to shake off. she struggled frantically, but in vain. she was hopelessly overpowered and swiftly bound, and laid, gagged and helpless, on a sofa in the corner of the room. then for the first time she caught sight of her captor. she recognised him at once. it was barakoff himself! _worse still, he knew her_! the man was mad with rage, his face convulsed and his eyes blazing with fury. "so, mademoiselle pasquet! we meet at last!" he snarled, stooping over her until his face was within a foot of her own and she could feel his hot breath upon her cheek. "but it is for the first--and last time!" accustomed as she was to danger in many forms, yvette could not repress a shudder. in the power of a ruffian like barakoff! she knew, of course, that at any moment jules might become suspicious of her long absence and come in search of her. but how long would he be and what might happen in the meantime? barakoff set swiftly to work and fixed inside the doors heavy bars which, as yvette realised with a sinking heart, would effectually shut out anyone trying to gain admittance, until either the door was reduced to splinters or a hole was knocked in the wall. then he picked her up without an effort and carried her into the adjoining room. this, to yvette's intense surprise, was elaborately fitted up as a chemical laboratory, with all kinds of strange instruments and apparatus. it was evident that it had long been used for this purpose. with an evil sneer barakoff took from a cupboard what yvette had no difficulty in recognising as one of the poison bombs! this he placed on a table and attached to it a short length of fuse. then he began to busy himself with what seemed to be preparations for leaving, packing a few articles of clothing in a small bag and laying it down with a heavy coat beside it. "when night comes, i go," he said. "but you--you will remain. but i shall leave you in good company, mademoiselle," and he pointed to the deadly bomb. "you will not feel dull. and after i am gone you will die--very slowly--of the twisted arms." for a few minutes the miscreant sat silent, smoking a cigarette and regarding yvette with a look of triumph she found even harder to bear than the consciousness of her terrible danger. jules, on watch below, had at length become uneasy. he entered the shop and asked one of the assistants if the lady was still there. "yes," replied the fellow readily, "she is upstairs with the manager looking at some furniture." jules, his hand on his pistol in his pocket, and feeling strangely uneasy, started up the stairs. there was no one in the building. what could have become of yvette and the manager? on the third floor he noticed the door through which yvette had gone. he seized the handle and tried to open it. but the door was locked and there was no key. not daring to raise an alarm for fear of the consequences to yvette, jules hastened down the stairs, and signalled to one of the scotland yard men. in a low voice jules told him what had happened. "we must be ready to break down that door at once," he said. with swift efficiency help was summoned, including a couple of men of the salvage corps, armed with powerful axes which would make short work of any ordinary door. while the shop assistants were kept under surveillance, jules and his helpers mounted to the third floor. they tried the door, and knocked. there was no reply, but inside they heard the hasty scurry of feet. "break it down," said inspector buckhurst, who had been one of the first to arrive. the salvage men sprang forward, and one on each side of the door began a furious attack with their axes. instantly a shot rang out. splinters flew in showers, but the door, heavily barred and plated with iron, for a time defied all their efforts. at last it gave way, and headed by jules the police party rushed in. their first discovery was yvette, lying unconscious and bleeding profusely from a wound in the shoulder. barakoff had fired at her as he hurried from the room when the thunderous attack on the door began. but in his blind haste his aim had been bad, even at such short range, and she escaped with comparatively slight injury. but where was barakoff? rushing out on to the flat roof jules looked hurriedly round. to the southward a queer-looking aeroplane was just vanishing into the thin mist. but behind it, going "all out," sped the mohawk in furious pursuit. dick manton was taking a hand in the game of which he was a master! there could be but one end to that, jules thought, with a sigh of relief as he turned to look after yvette. she was recovering consciousness and they were just about to carry her out, when one of the policemen with a loud cry dashed to the table. he had caught sight of a thin thread of smoke rising from the fuse of the bomb! luckily he was an old bombing instructor and knew what to do. a moment later the fuse was cut and the bomb's detonator removed. it was harmless now. half a minute later it would have exploded. watching keenly from his roof dick manton had seen barakoff's aeroplane rise swiftly and silently into the air. he had some slight trouble in starting the mohawk, and the russian was a mile away before the englishman had started in pursuit. crouched in the driving seat of the mohawk, dick kept his eyes glued on the machine in front. he soon realised, to his dismay, that the russian machine was much the faster and was leaving him behind. by the time they had gone ten miles and were out over the open country, he could only just discern the fugitive as a mere speck in the distance, and he realised with a sinking heart that a fleck of mist would enable barakoff to escape. suddenly he discovered that the russian machine had descended very low. a moment later it appeared to rise vertically, going up to a great height. instantly dick followed and to his surprise found himself gaining rapidly. then the russian seemed to slip ahead again. several times this was repeated, and dick at length divined the reason. the russian could not run his elevating and driving propellers simultaneously. he travelled in a series of swoops, coming down very slowly as the machine drove forward, and then being compelled to stop the driving propellers while he gained the necessary height to continue his flight. no doubt this was explained by the fact that the planes were too small to keep the machine up without the elevating propellers. dick saw that he held a big advantage. the mohawk, though slightly slower, could rise and go forward at the same time under the influence of both propellers. as they sped over kent, dick began to realise with joy that he was gaining. slowly the poison-fiend began to come back to him. then came the critical moment. five hundred yards ahead and a thousand feet below, barakoff, close to the ground, must rise soon to gain the elevation he required. that was the moment for which dick had been waiting. he called on his machine for the last ounce of effort he had been holding in reserve. the mohawk shot forward. a few seconds later dick was directly above the russian. so far as air tactics went he had won; the russian was entirely at his mercy. then began surely the strangest aerial combat ever witnessed. to and fro the machines dodged, barakoff striving to gain height and succeeding for a moment only to find his pursuer above him again and bullets whining round him; dick striving to force the russian down to the ground where he must either land or crash. for fully half an hour the machines flitted backwards and forwards around the town of ashford. dick had no fear of the result; his only risk was whether he could send barakoff down before dusk came. unless he could do this there was every danger that the russian would escape under cover of darkness. at last the end came. dick had forced his antagonist so low that, as a last desperate resort, barakoff had to leap upward to clear a big group of elms. he miscalculated by a few feet, his machine touched the upper branches and went smashing to earth. three minutes later dick was standing beside the body of the death-dealer. barakoff's machine was a complete wreck and was blazing furiously. the man himself had been flung clear and lay in a crumpled heap, stone dead. there is little more to tell. the formula for the powder with which the bomb was charged was found in barakoff's laboratory, and with it, in russian, a prescription which, on being tested, proved to be a complete cure for the disease. it was found just in time to save those who would otherwise have been the victims of the explosion at finsbury park. it was evident that barakoff must have maintained his laboratory in soho for months. obviously the manager of the shop was one of his accomplices, and apparently he had recognised yvette and deliberately thrown her into barakoff's hands. then realising that discovery was inevitable he had slipped out of the building, probably by a window as neither of the assistants had noticed him leave. he was never found. the assistants themselves proved to be respectable young fellows who had been employed only a few weeks and who clearly knew nothing of the nefarious conspiracy. nothing but the mohawk had prevented barakoff's escape! and dick manton received later on the official thanks of the british government for his daring exploit. chapter five. the master atom. "oh! la la! how horribly dull life is! i do wish something really startling would happen, dick!" the words were spoken in pretty broken english by yvette pasquet, who, charming and _chic_, as usual, was sitting with jules and dick manton. the adventurous trio were dining _al fresco_ in the leafy garden of the old-world "hotel de france" on the river bank at montigny, that delightful spot on the outskirts of the great forest of fontainebleau, a spot beloved by all the artists and _litterateurs_ of paris. "something will happen suddenly, no doubt," dick laughed, glancing at his beloved. "it always does!" "i sincerely hope it will," declared jules in good english. "we're really getting rather rusty. i met regnier yesterday out at pre catalan with madame sohet, and he hinted to me that some great mystery had arisen; but he would tell me nothing further." "regnier, as head of the service, is always well informed, and like an oyster," yvette remarked with a laugh. "so i suppose we must wait for something to happen. i hate to be idle." "yes. something will surely happen very shortly," said dick. "i have a curious intuition that we shall very soon be away again on another mission. my intuition never fails me." dick manton's words were prophetic, for on that same evening before a meeting of the royal society in london, professor rudford, the world-famed scientist, made an amazing speech in which he said: "could we but solve the problem of releasing and controlling the mighty forces locked up in this piece of chalk, we should have power enough to drive the biggest liner to new york and back. we should have at our disposal energy unlimited. the daily work of the world would be reduced to a few minutes' tending of automatic machinery. and, i may add, the first nation to solve that problem will have the entire world at its mercy. for no nation, or combination of nations, could stand even against a small people armed with force unlimited and terrible. and-- gentlemen--_we are on the way to solving that problem_!" as the words fell slowly and calmly from his lips his hearers felt a thrill of ungovernable emotion, almost of apprehension. for they knew well that he spoke only of what he knew, and the measured phrases conjured up in their keen brains not only a picture of a world where labour had been reduced to the vanishing point, but of a world where evil still strove with good, where the enemies of society still strove against the established order of things which they hated, where crime in the hands of the master criminal, armed with force whose potentiality they could only dream of, would be something transcending in sheer horror all the past experiences of tortured humanity. supposing the great secret _fell into the wrong hands_! the speech at the royal society was a nine days' wonder. the unthinking press made merry in the bare idea of a lump of chalk being a source of power. then the transient impression faded as public attention returned to football and the latest prize-fight. but behind the scenes, in a hundred laboratories, students bent unceasingly over their myriad experiments, striving to wrest from nature her greatest secret, the mystery of the mighty energy of the atom. since the day when madame curie had discovered that in breaking up, yet seemingly never growing less, radium was shooting off day and night power which never seemed to diminish, the minds of the men of science had been filled with the dream of discovering the secret. could they learn to accelerate the process? could they induce radium to deliver in a few moments the power which, expending itself for centuries untold, never seemed to grow less? could they learn to control it, or would it, when at last the secret was discovered, prove to be a frankenstein monster of titanic power, wreaking untold destruction on the world? a thin, keen-faced man sat facing the british prime minister in his private room in downing street a few days later. this was clinton scott, one of the smartest men of the british secret service, a man of wide culture and uncanny knowledge of the underworld of international crime. his profession was the detection of crime; his hobby science in any form. "we have very disturbing news, scott," said the prime minister, "and i have sent for you because the problem before us is largely of a scientific nature and i know all about your hobby." clinton scott smiled. "you are aware, of course, of the latest developments in the search for some method of releasing and controlling atomic forces," went on the prime minister. "i do not profess to understand them deeply myself, but i have a general idea of what is being done and what success would imply. professor rudford, to whom i applied for information on the subject, tells me that such a discovery would revolutionise world conditions. you will understand of your own knowledge all that it implies, and that is why i have sent specially for you in this matter." "i am at the country's service," replied scott. "now information we have received from norway suggests very strongly that the problem has been solved," the other said. "we have no details--nothing in fact very definite at all. but it is certain that some very queer things have been happening. and from what professor rudford tells me i am assured that we cannot afford to neglect them. our ordinary men are useless for this kind of thing. men with a considerable knowledge of scientific subjects are absolutely necessary. otherwise matter which, properly understood, would be full of significance will be passed over as of no account and quite minor and unessential incidents will be followed up, and there would be serious waste of time. and time is valuable." "i agree that it is," was the terse reply. "i want you to go to norway and look into the matter," the prime minister went on. "of course i will see that you get all the information we have, and you can select your own assistants." clinton scott suddenly looked grave. "is it known at all?" he asked. "who is behind this--i mean who has made this discovery? you will appreciate my reason for asking. if it is the work of a genuine man of science there would be no immediate danger, though of course such an invention would upset all ideas of international relations. it is literally true, as no doubt professor rudford will have told you, that the nation in exclusive possession of such a secret could dominate the world. but there are one or two men in the world who, with such a secret in their possession, would be a real peril to civilisation." "do you know a man named lenart gronvold?" asked the premier. clinton scott started visibly. "do you mean to say he is in it?" he gasped in utter astonishment. it was the premier's turn to be surprised. "why--who is he?" he asked. "professor rudford had never even heard his name and laughed when i suggested that he could have had anything to do with it." "he won't laugh when he gets some real idea of gronvold's ability," said scott bitterly. "the man is one of the mysteries of the world of crime," he went on. "exactly who he is we don't know--i mean we know little about his life. but we believe he is norwegian born, though he has strong russian characteristics. we know he studied at leipzig. tutors who knew him well speak with the utmost admiration of his amazing brain power as a student and the daring of his conceptions. but for some reason he never did well in examinations and attracted no attention whatever outside a very limited circle. personally, i believe that for some strange reason he deliberately elected not to call attention to himself, for there is not the slightest doubt that he could with ease have captured every honour the university had to bestow. after leaving leipzig he disappeared for some years. i don't know how he spent them. but i do know that he is a chemist of amazing ability. he has, moreover, been mixed up with a number of puzzling international crimes, though we have never been able to bring any of them home to him. do you remember the big bank robbery at liverpool three years ago?" the premier nodded. "you mean," he said, "when the bank vaults were blown open with dynamite and half a million in gold stolen?" "that's the case," said scott. "only it wasn't dynamite, there was no explosion. the thick steel and stone walls of the vaulted safe had been melted through as if they had been butter. the story of an explosion was deliberately given out to deceive the thieves. but the fact is that some process was used of which we have no knowledge whatever." and he paused, then went on: "now i am pretty sure gronvold was in that. i was called in before anything had been touched. and in one corner i picked up a scrap of paper bearing some queer formulae of which i could make nothing. it had evidently been dropped by accident. and it bore gronvold's name. moreover, as i ascertained by a visit to leipzig, where i saw some of the old university registers, it was in his handwriting. but where he is, how he got into england, how the burglary was effected and how he got away with such an enormous weight of gold we never could make out. if he is really in this new discovery we are face to face with a terrible problem. the man is absolutely without scruple, and for three years he has had the use of half a million of money for his experiments. he may have done anything in that time." "but how did you know of him?" asked the premier. "it's a queer story," replied the other. "simmons, one of our men in christiansand came across, quite by accident, a drunken norwegian sailor who told a strange story of the blowing up of a mountain by a tiny cartridge placed at the bottom of an old mine shaft. he actually mentioned gronvold's name, and claimed to have been one of his assistants. when he became sober he was evidently terribly alarmed at having talked, and denied the whole story. the same day he disappeared, and simmons has been unable to trace him." he went on after a pause: "now the blowing up of a mountain is a fact. a hill nearly a thousand feet high in a wild lonely district north-east of tonstad has absolutely disappeared--levelled out. to have done the work by ordinary means would have meant years of labour and would have cost a fortune. there can be no doubt that some entirely new force has been employed. officially the occurrence is attributed to a landslide; actually it is and can be nothing of the kind. now this, coupled with what the norwegian sailor said, suggests that we ought to look into the matter. whether the norwegian government knows anything about it i do not know, and the matter would be of such importance from the international point of view that we cannot make direct inquiries." "will you take it in hand?" asked the premier. "whom will you get to help you? i am afraid the ordinary men would be of very little use." "i think i will run over to paris and see regnier," replied scott. "he has a fellow named manton who will certainly be useful. he was in our flying corps and was invalided out owing to wounds. he has done some wonderful work and has an entirely new type of aeroplane which he invented and which, by the way, our people would have nothing to do with. regnier swears by him. he works always with a french girl named yvette pasquet, who did some splendid intelligence work during the war, and her brother jules. they will have nothing to do with anyone else when they are on a case, and they have had some amazing results." crossing to paris by the afternoon air express scott the same evening was warmly greeted by regnier. he rapidly explained his visit. regnier looked grave. "i have heard of the man," he said, "but have never seen him, i don't think in a case like this you can do better than manton. he is very well up in all these scientific things; they seem to be a perfect craze with him." an hour later, regnier, scott, dick manton, yvette, and jules were closely discussing the problem in manton's rooms. "we have got to find that sailor," was dick's verdict, "and luck is going to have a good deal to do with it. i suppose simmons is on the look out for him?" "yes," replied scott, "i wired him at once." "do you think gronvold and the sailor have quarrelled?" put in yvette. "i think not," was scott's reply. "if they had there seems no reason for the man's alarm. i think he calculated on going back to him. that was simmons' view, too." dick, who had been carefully studying a map, looked up. "just look here," he said, "you could hide an army in this place." the map was in contour and gave a vivid impression of the wild and desolate country, a broken mass of hills and lakes, stretching north and east from tonstad. "suppose gronvold is there," said dick, "he could hide anything he wanted to. i don't think he would have travelled far from its base to blow up the hill--that was probably experimental. my idea is that he has established his laboratory somewhere in the hills about there. there is no population and little or no traffic through the district. he must send to one of the towns for supplies, and christiansand is the most likely. i should guess that the sailor had come there for that purpose and may come again." "he did not leave the town by boat," declared scott. "simmons made the most careful inquiries on all the boats in the harbour and no one of his description was seen." three tourists a week later were lodged in a comfortable hotel in the dronningens gade, one of the principal streets in the busy port of christiansand. they were yvette, jules, and scott. dick had flown the mohawk direct to the wild district north-east of tonstad, and with the help of a light tent had pitched a camp in a little wood a couple of miles from the southern edge of the blown-up hill. he had taken pains in the selection of a suitable place and his camp and the mohawk were so admirably hidden that they were safe from discovery, unless some one actually walked right up to them, a contingency which in that roadless, unpopulated country was extremely unlikely. but though hidden himself he commanded a wide view. for two days dick devoted himself to a thorough examination of the surrounding country, quartering it thoroughly either on foot or in the mohawk. he could however see nothing in the least suspicious. then came a surprise. his only method of receiving news from the others was to "listen in" on the wireless telegraph set with which the mohawk was fitted for messages which, directed to an address in england, were handed to the christiansand radio station for dispatch, but were really intended for him. these messages were handed in at eight o'clock precisely and dick usually got them within half an hour. on the third day of his watch came the message: "sailor located. travelling north with pack mules. we follow. osterluis road." the man, as he was to learn later, had been spotted by yvette in christiansand. she had seen him leave a small cafe much frequented by sailors, and had been struck by his likeness to the description given by simmons. she had followed him for some time while he made a variety of purchases at numerous shops, and had been struck by the fact that a mere sailor should evidently have such a large sum of money at his disposal. luckily she had encountered simmons, who at once recognised the man and had promptly disappeared to avoid arousing his suspicions. yvette was able to learn that all the man's purchases were being delivered to a small inn on the outskirts of the town, and a few inquiries showed that he had four mules stationed there. the matter began now to clear up. they were sure of the man; at least he could not leave without his mules and stores. jules and scott took up the watch at the inn, while yvette shadowed the suspect. it was thought best that simmons should not appear. it soon became evident that the man had no associates in christiansand. all he did was to visit shops, paying cash for all his purchases and having them sent to the inn where his mules were stabled. the next day, with his mules heavily loaded, he set out from christiansand, taking the road to trygstand and ostersluis. yvette, jules, and scott decided to follow him on foot. to have taken horses would have told him he was being followed as soon as he left the road, as they were pretty sure he would, sooner or later. luckily all three were splendid walkers and felt they would have no trouble in keeping up with the heavily-laden mules. cramming a few necessities into rucksacks they were soon on the track of their quarry. man and mules made steady progress. they were soon through trygstand and, shortly after, caught sight of the mohawk high above them and evidently following the road on the watch for them. with a handkerchief tied to a stick yvette swiftly signalled to dick the brief facts, and the mohawk passed on towards christiansand. when the sailor and the mules were hidden in a dip in the road dick landed, and all four held a brief consultation as to their future plans. as a result scott put on his best speed and soon passed the sailor who had stopped for a rest. the man was now between two parties on the ground and under observation from dick from the air. he certainly could not escape. a few miles beyond trygstand he suddenly left the high road, and turned westward and north across the open country. evidently he was not bound for ostersluis. but where could he be going? for miles there was not even a house in the deserted track of country into which he had plunged. but it was evident he knew his bearings thoroughly. hour after hour he jogged along, and soon the pursuers realised that they had been wise not to bring horses. no horse could have crossed the country over which the sure-footed mules went swiftly without a stagger. at nightfall the man camped. apparently he paid no attention to the passing of the aeroplane, for he barely glanced at it. building a small fire under the shelter of a rock, the three pursuers spent a comfortless night. dick had flown to his camp, intending to pick the party up again at dawn. early next morning the man was afoot and continued his journey. he was now in the wild country well to the west of ostersluis, and travelling due north. yvette, jules, and scott were a mile behind, following with the utmost care not to reveal their presence and so rouse the man's suspicions. they had gone but a few miles when the man paused on the flat top of a high hill, which on the side away from them sloped steeply into a deep gorge at the foot of which ran a small stream. they watched him narrowly. with great care he got the four mules together, standing side by side. he himself took up a position directly in front of them and almost touching the animals' heads. a moment later man and mules sank together, apparently into the earth and disappeared! they could hardly believe their eyes! surely the man must have gone down the reverse slope of the hill. but they were confident that he had not moved. they hurried to the spot. not a sign of any living thing was to be seen! the mystery was profound. while they stood gazing at one another in speechless amazement, the mohawk, which they had not perceived above them, dropped vertically downwards and landed a few yards away. dick sprang out. "did you see?" he gasped. "the man and mules went down into some sort of pit. but where was it?" the flat top of the hill was broken into a series of narrow cracks; apparently the rock of which it was composed was of volcanic origin. they examined it closely, but they could discover nothing which offered a solution of the mystery. dick described closely what he had seen from the sky. it agreed with what the others had observed. the man had got the mules together, and all had sunk slowly downward. dick had seen the black mouth of the pit for a few moments and a blaze of light. then the pit had disappeared, and the ground resumed its normal appearance. "we shall have to camp here to-night," said dick. "we must get to the bottom of this. we shall have to take turns to watch. in the meantime we had better have a look round." having closely examined the top of the hill, they turned to the deep gorge and descended to the bottom. the stream, they found, issued from the hill itself, flowing out from a low tunnel high enough to admit the passage of a man. from it also issued a cloud of mist which spread over the bottom of the little valley in a thick blanket which completely concealed the surface of the ground from anyone at the top of the hill. but still more remarkable was that the bed of the little stream was deeply covered with what appeared to be recently melted lava. in many places it was still hot, and the water, they found, was nearly boiling. the first traces of this were found at the mouth of the tunnel from which the stream emerged, and for hundreds of yards the molten rock could be traced, as though it had poured from the tunnel and flowed down the bed of the brook. wood and water were available in abundance, and soon they had pitched their camp, near enough to the top of the mysterious hill to enable them to watch it closely and yet well concealed so that if the man reappeared they would have no difficulty in escaping observation. the first watch fell to yvette, and with a revolver ready for instant use, she prepared to spend a couple of lonely hours on the edge of the hill. the camp was but a quarter of a mile away so that a shot would bring her speedy help at any time. a brilliant moon lit up the country for miles. there was no trace of any living thing. everything was still and silent. yvette had been on watch about an hour when she became aware that the air was full of a dull murmur of sound. she listened intently. there was no mistake about it. a dull throbbing noise was distinctly discernible. she walked round the flat top of the hill, looking keenly in every direction and trying to locate the position from which the mysterious sound was coming. but it was in vain. glancing into the gorge, she saw a strange and terrible phenomenon. the course of the little brook was traced in a dull fiery glow. clouds of steam were rising thickly into the night air; she could plainly hear the sharp hiss of water on something hot. she ran swiftly down the hill. at the bottom she paused on the edge of the stream. the water had disappeared and in its place ran a river of molten rock! through her boots she felt the heat of the ground. returning to the top of the hill she waited for dick, who was now almost due to relieve her. in a few moments he appeared and listened in amazement as she gasped out her story. the dull, throbbing noise was still audible. "machinery," said dick laconically, "but where?" suddenly he flung himself on his face, and pressed his ear close to the ground. "listen," he said. yvette followed his example. there could be no mistake; the mysterious sound was coming from the ground beneath their feet! the earth was full of muffled thunder. dick took from his pocket a hammer and struck a sharp blow on the flat rock beneath their feet. it rang hollow! unmistakably they were standing on the roof of a cavern. walking to the camp they roused the others and told them what they had seen and heard. "we have got to catch that sailor if we wait here a month," said scott. "he must come out again some time. but how about food?" "we have enough tinned stuff in the mohawk for a week," said dick, "so we shall be all right for a few days. in the meantime we must watch the place closely." next day passed without incident until evening was drawing on. then yvette, who was watching the top of the hill while the others rested, at six o'clock gave a low whistle. she was lying on the ground keeping observation between a couple of rocks which hid her completely. in a moment the others had crawled to her side. "look!" she said. on the top of the hill, three hundred yards away, stood the sailor and the four mules, clearly silhouetted against the evening glow. he had appeared suddenly, yvette told them, just on the spot where he had disappeared on the previous day. "we must get him," said dick. the man with the mules started to return along the way he had come. they saw at once that the path he was taking would bring him close to them. with the mules unloaded the man evidently had no intention of walking. he mounted one of the animals and rode towards them at a fast trot. he was within twenty yards when dick aimed his revolver and fired. the mule the man was riding bolted, throwing its rider heavily. before he could recover himself he was bound and helpless. the other three mules stampeded wildly and were soon out of sight. carried to the camp the man soon recovered. but he resolutely refused to say a word. "well," said dick. "we must try to get into the cave. perhaps the tunnel out of which the brook runs will lead us to it." they were soon at the mouth of the strange tunnel. there was no sign of the molten matter of the previous night. the stream, thick with mud, flowed sluggishly, but the water was cool, and the ground, which the night before had been too hot to walk upon, was now not more than uncomfortably warm. with dick leading, scott and yvette next in order, and jules bringing up the rear they entered the mouth of the tunnel. there was, they found, just room for them to pass, stooping low and walking knee deep in the little stream. they were, of course, in total darkness, for dick was afraid to show a light for fear of betraying their presence. for a hundred yards dick groped his way onward. then his outstretched hands struck something soft. it was a kind of curtain hung across the stream, thick and heavy. cautiously he slightly raised one corner and peered through. the sight that struck his eyes filled them with amazement. they were at the entrance to an enormous chamber, a hundred and fifty yards across, dimly lighted by a single big electric lamp, the only one alight out of dozens which hung from the roof. the floor sloped steeply upwards at the far end where they could make out a kind of platform, reaching nearly to the roof and with steps leading downward into the great hall. all round the side were a series of openings, apparently small chambers cut into the solid rock. from one of these the stream they had followed seemed to issue, crossing the floor of the great cave in a narrow deep channel. but what fascinated dick's attention was a great table, apparently of iron, which occupied the centre of the cave. it was heavily constructed and seemed to be based on massive legs which went down into the rock. upon it stood a strange machine unlike anything he had ever seen before and of the use of which he could not form the smallest idea. surmounted by two huge governor balls, it was a complicated mass of polished wheels, of some metal which dick could not identify, and which gleamed with a strange radiance in the light of the huge electric lamp overhead. from the machine a bewildering mass of wires led to a series of points at the face of the rock. so much dick could make out in the dim light. he was keenly anxious to learn more. but how was it to be done? no sign of any human being was to be seen, but he could not imagine that what lay before their eyes was the work of the solitary sailor who now lay bound in their camp. at any rate they could not remain where they were. dick decided to try to gain entrance to one of the wall chambers where they could shelter with a better chance of seeing what would happen in this underground home of mystery. but which should they choose? some of the chambers were half-way to the roof and were reached by steps cut in the solid rock. dick decided on one of these not far from where they were standing. they crept cautiously from their hiding-place and stole along to the bottom of the cave. a moment later they were at the foot of the steps. these they hastily climbed, and soon found themselves in a fair-sized cave, fifteen or sixteen feet above the floor of the main cavern and commanding a good view of the entire area. it was dry and warm and formed an ideal post of observation, provided their presence remained undiscovered. suddenly a blaze of light struck their eyes. some one had turned on the whole of the electric lamps which hung in clusters from the roof. peering cautiously out they saw, to their amazement, half a dozen men issue from different chambers near the floor of the cave. all wore big round spectacles of deep blue glass and were clothed in close-fitting garments of rubber, with heavy gauntletted gloves of the same material. apparently they could not see well, for the spectacles must have been almost impervious to ordinary light. one of the men, fixing his spectacles on more firmly and, drawing his rubber overall more closely around him, approached the strange machine which stood on the table. the others proceeded to the points at which the wires from the machine reached the side of the cave. here they took up some kind of tool which looked like a gigantic blowpipe and stood ready as if awaiting a signal. a low whistle sounded from the man at the table, as he grasped a small wheel and gave it a quick turn. an instant later an appalling blaze of light burst from the strange machine, and the cave was filled with a roar of sound, a terrible deep drone of such frightful intensity that the hidden watchers shuddered as if with actual physical agony. dick felt the sweat start suddenly from his forehead and pour down his face. anxiously he glanced towards yvette. she lay with her face buried in her arms, her body trembling convulsively. scott and jules, their faces white as chalk, were gazing at the unearthly light which streamed from the whirling machine, shading their eyes with their hands to shelter them from its blinding radiance. they could not look at it for more than a few seconds; it was like trying to gaze at the sun at midday. taking a letter from his pocket, dick bored a tiny hole in it with his scarf pin. through this hole he found he could see in comparative comfort. he signed to the others to do the same, and soon all four--for yvette quickly recovered her self-possession--were eagerly watching the strange scene before them. speech, in the deafening noise by which they were surrounded, was, of course, out of the question. the man at the great table in the centre of the cavern evidently had a task of great difficulty to control the movements of the strange machine, which he seemed to do by means of a large wheel something like the steering wheel of a steamer. long streamers of flame shot from it in all directions, and as its mass of wheels revolved at terrific speed it shook and trembled as if it would actually leap from the table. in the meantime the men at the rock face were hard at work with big blowpipes, from the muzzles of which shot streams of fire of such intensity that the solid rock seemed to melt away like butter. the molten matter was led by ducts in the ground through a grid of some metal, evidently highly refractory to heat, for it appeared to do no more than glow white-hot even in the terrific temperature of the melted rock. after passing through this grid the molten matter was led to the bed of the stream, from which the water had in some manner been cut off, and flowed out the way dick and his companions had entered. what was the object of the work? dick could not guess, but every now and again one of the men would walk to the grid and with a long implement shaped like a hoe would scrape off something adhering to the bars, which he deposited in a big tank of water. dick determined that, sooner or later, he would obtain a specimen. but in the meantime their position was decidedly precarious. if they were observed there was no possible way of escape, for the tunnel by which they had entered was barred by the stream of molten matter. they could only lie still and hope that no one would enter the gallery in which they lay concealed. after two hours of work, the man at the table stopped the machine, and all the men straightened out for a rest. evidently they were very much exhausted. the lights were extinguished, except for the single one which was burning when they entered, and the men returned to their quarters, evidently almost falling with weariness. dick came to the conclusion that they could only carry on the work on which they were engaged for a short time and that after that sleep and rest were imperative. the flow of molten metal had stopped and the water was again allowed to flow along its ordinary channel, from whence it sent up huge clouds of dense steam. this gave dick his chance. sending the others to the mouth of the exit, he cautiously crept towards the tank in which were deposited the scrapings from the grid which filtered the molten rock. he reached it safely, and plunging in his arm up to the shoulder, abstracted a couple of handfuls of what seemed like heavy shot. these he placed at once in his pocket. he was about to return to the others when his attention was caught by the queer platform at the one end of the cave. looking at this carefully he found that it was really a huge lift, and at once the mysterious disappearance of the sailor and the mules was explained. it was evident that the top of the lift was really the thin covering of rock which had sounded hollow when tapped and that this had been so cut that when the lift forced it into position only traces of ragged crevices were left on the surface. dick could not but admire the ingenuity with which this approach to the subterranean retreat had been devised. presently he heard a heavy knocking above his head and, guessing the cause, shrank back for shelter into the mouth of a small cave adjoining. a moment later a man emerged from one of the other chambers and approached the lift. dick was curious to see how it worked. there was, as he could see, a small electric motor fitted to it, but where could the necessary power come from? the new-comer carried in his hand a tiny machine which was in every respect a duplicate in miniature of the big one on the central table. but it was so small that the man carried it easily in one hand. from it ran a pair of electric cables which the man proceeded to connect with the terminals of the motor. placing the machine on the ground he gave the wheel a sharp turn. immediately the tiny machine began to revolve, throwing out flashes and flames exactly like the larger one but on a miniature scale. clearly, however, there was considerable power in it, for the lift at once commenced to descend. on it stood a man whom dick instantly recognised as gronvold. and he was accompanied by the sailor whom dick had left safely tied up in their camp. evidently gronvold had found and released him. their position was now indeed one of terrible gravity. as soon as the lift reached the bottom the two men stepped off and the lift reascended, moving upward with an ease which showed the tremendous power developed by the tiny machine. here, indeed, was something of which dick had had no previous experience. the three men crossed the cave to the shelter occupied by the man who worked the big machine, who was evidently the captain, and dick knew there was no time to be lost. directly the men entered the shelter, dick dashed across the cave to join the others, snatching out his revolver as he ran. he had nearly reached them, when a whistle blew and instantly half a dozen men rushed from different caves. they were discovered! "take care of yvette, jules!" dick yelled as, with scott at his side, he faced round to the men who were rushing at them from three sides. instantly yvette and jules plunged into the tunnel. dick and scott backed after them with drawn revolvers threatening the men in the cave. for a moment the leaders hesitated; apparently they were not aimed. then gronvold rushed to the front, followed by the captain, both carrying curious weapons which looked like heavy pistols. all four men fired simultaneously. dick saw the captain drop, evidently shot dead, and heard a bullet whiz past him and strike the rock behind. a burst of flame singed his hair, and he felt the hot breath of it on his face. then gronvold fired at scott. the effect as the bullet struck him was strange and awful. his body actually disappeared in a mass of flame under the impact of some projectile of unimaginable power and energy. at the same instant dick slipped on a projecting bit of rock and fell heavily on his head. as he lost consciousness he heard the crack of a revolver behind him. yvette and jules, hearing the shots, had returned in the nick of time. jules snatched up dick and carried him down the tunnel, while yvette very coolly shot down gronvold just as he was reloading his terrible weapon. when dick recovered his senses he found himself lying on the ground at the entrance to the tunnel, his head pillowed on yvette's arm as she tried to pour some brandy between his lips. he could feel the sobs which shook her, and even felt a tear on his face. jules stood on guard at the entrance to the tunnel, his revolver ready for instant action in case of pursuit. as dick opened his eyes, yvette gave a gasp of relief. "oh, dearest, i thought you were dead!" she sobbed and burst into tears. a moment later she turned away blushing scarlet. she had betrayed her secret at last. and even in his confused state dick felt a thrill of triumphant joy. his head spinning he staggered to his feet. but he would have fallen if yvette had not caught him. "sit down, dick," she said peremptorily. "jules can look after this place." dick obeyed, perforce; he was so sick and giddy that he could have done nothing even if the expected attack had come. but it never came. suddenly as they stood there, tense and waiting, a terrific convulsion shook the earth. with a terrible roar the great cavern collapsed and a vast burst of smoke and flame vomited to the sky, and a deep crater was left by the subsidence. sick and dizzy, with showers of stones falling all around them, they stood aghast while explosion after explosion rent the air, rendering the crater deeper. it was some minutes before quiet reigned again and, white and shaken, after their nerve-racking experience, they were able to collect their shaken faculties and make an examination of the scene. the hill beneath which the cavern was located had practically disappeared; in its place was left nothing but a heap of torn and tumbled earth and rock. its dreadful secret was safe, for the cave and its contents, and the men who had wielded such titanic forces, were buried deep under tens of thousands of tons of debris. perhaps it was as well, dick thought. there are some forms of knowledge which mortals ought not to possess; there are some powers which they are not fit to handle. whatever secret gronvold had discovered, it rested with him for ever on the very scene of his ill-omened labours. what had gone wrong in the depths of the cavern they could not even imagine, but it was evident that the mysterious force which gronvold had called into existence, whatever it was, had destroyed him and his companions. and it was almost by a miracle that dick, yvette, and jules had escaped. slowly and painfully they made their way back to their camp, and for the first time dick became conscious of the great weight of the double handful of shot which he had taken from the tank. he drew some of it out and examined it by the light of the fire. as he did so he gave a cry of surprise. for the "shot" was nothing more or less than tiny nuggets of virgin gold. here was an addition to the mystery. as dick knew perfectly well, there was not an atom of gold-bearing rock within hundreds of miles of where they stood. it was evident that one of the secrets of gronvold's invention was that it gave him the power of actually bringing about the transmutation of substances. there was some element in the rock which was susceptible of being changed into gold by a process at which they could not even guess. but if this were so, gronvold had indeed, as they suspected, been able to solve the problem of loosing the incredible force contained in the atom. his discovery was, as dick at once realised, on the lines of the latest development of scientific thought. dick was to see the problem solved in later years by more reputable investigators. but he could never forget his strange encounter with the wonderful but misguided genius whose career had been so terribly brought to an end by the dread power he had himself evoked. chapter six. the horror of lockie. many readers will recall the tragedy of renstoke castle and the terrible death of young lord renstoke. the case aroused much sensation at the time. it would have aroused far more had the real facts been allowed to transpire. they were known, however, to only a few people, and, for reasons which were at the time sufficient, they were kept secret. i am now able to lift the veil which shrouded one of the most perplexing mysteries which has ever puzzled the scientific world. even now, the story is not complete; the great secret died with the amazing but perverted genius who discovered it. lord renstoke, a young man only thirty, was one of those favoured individuals on whom fortune seemed to have showered all her gifts. born and brought up in canada, he was connected only very remotely with the ancient family of renstoke, and no one ever dreamed that he could by any possibility succeed to the title, which carried with it renstoke castle and a rent-roll of something like a hundred thousand pounds a year. james mitchell, as lord renstoke was before he succeeded to the title, had left a lumber camp in upper canada when the call of the great war brought britishers from all the wild places of the world to join the colours. he served as a private in one of the canadian regiments, rapidly winning his way upward, and finally being awarded the victoria cross for a piece of dare-devil folly--so his comrades declared--that had led to the capture of an important german position and had helped very materially to bring about one of the most brilliant of the many successes scored by the canadians in the closing stages of the fighting. that episode seemed to mark the turning-point in the fortunes of james mitchell. from then onward it seemed as though fate had no gifts that were too good to be showered upon him. it was only a few weeks later that the obscure canadian private was summoned to headquarters to receive the astounding intelligence that through a series of deaths that in fiction would have been deemed fantastic, he was a peer of the united kingdom with a vast fortune at his disposal. then james mitchell, baron renstoke, went back to his trenches and the comrades he had learned to love to finish the work on hand. it was during the latter half of the war that james mitchell found himself swept by chance into the strange web of mystery and adventure that surrounded the doings of yvette pasquet and dick manton. he had been detailed, quite privately and "unofficially," to help yvette in one of her achievements, and the clever french girl had been quick to recognise in him an assistant of more than ordinary ability. yvette was one of those rare people who never forget, and so there came about a gradual friendship which included dick manton and jules pasquet. yvette rejoiced unfeignedly when, after the armistice, she learned of mitchell's good fortune. the friendship continued and ripened, and yvette, jules, and dick manton were staying at renstoke castle when a terrible stroke of malign fate cut short a career of brilliant promise and brought an ancient lineage to an end. renstoke castle was a wonderful old house in argyllshire, and james mitchell, now lord renstoke, was surely one of the favoured of the gods! over six feet in height, strikingly handsome and of superb physique, wealthy and with great charm of manner, there seemed to be nothing to which he could not aspire. despite the surroundings of his early years he had been well educated for his father, though only a canadian farmer, had been a man of considerable culture and learning, and had seen that his son, who inherited his own intellectual gifts, had been well taught. only the spirit of adventure had led him at twenty-one into the wild places of the world, where he saw existence from many angles, and in a rough outdoor life had brought to perfection physical powers which had been remarkable even in boyhood. he was now the last of the renstokes. but he was still young. no one dreamed but that he would marry and that the ancient line would be continued. then the blow fell! through the late summer a series of mysterious attacks had been made on live stock throughout the western portion of argyllshire. sheep, and even deer, had been attacked, evidently by some unusually powerful animal. sheep worrying, of course, is not an uncommon vice among dogs, and when the outbreak first started little was thought of the matter. the local farmers and shepherds merely began to watch their dogs more closely than usual. but the outbreaks continued, more and more sheep were killed, and at length the losses became so heavy that drastic steps were taken. for thirty miles around, not a dog was permitted off the chain after dusk. bands of men armed with guns, with instructions to shoot any dog on sight, patrolled the country-side by day and night. it was all in vain. sheep continued to perish under the teeth of the mysterious prowler, and even the smaller deer, in spite of their speed, began to fall victims. the farmers were at their wits' ends when the mystery was suddenly lifted into the region of unadulterated horror. alan macpherson, a young gamekeeper, had been one of a number of men who, stretched out into a line a couple of miles long, had set out at nightfall to search a lonely piece of moorland in which it was thought the strange animal might be hiding. the line of men had gone forward on a prearranged plan for five or six miles and then "pivoted" on the right hand man, swung round and marched homeward, concentrating finally at a big farm known as kelsie, where the losses had been very serious. the men, of course, knew the country thoroughly, and similar manoeuvres had been many times repeated without mishap. always the last man of the line had turned up within a few minutes of the prearranged time. on this occasion macpherson was on the extreme left wheel and, having farthest to go, should have been the last man home. no one was uneasy when it was found he was a few minutes late; he was armed and knew the country like the palm of his hand. but when the minutes slipped by without news his companions began to be anxious. three hours passed, and, at length, a search party was hastily formed. two hours later macpherson's body was found lying terribly mangled beside a big rock on the slope of a small tor. his gun, still loaded, was only three feet away. beside the body lay a filled pipe and a box of matches. evidently the man had laid down his gun to light his pipe and had been suddenly attacked and killed before he could raise a hand to defend himself. a few minutes later, lord renstoke, yvette, dick manton, and jules were on the scene. though all were familiar with the ghastly sights of war, they found themselves in the presence of a horror which overbore all their previous experiences. renstoke, whose experience abroad had made him familiar with many wild animals quite unknown to the others, examined the body carefully. at length he rose from his knees with a horrified expression in his eyes, and gave brief orders for the removal of the body to the unfortunate man's home to await the inquest. but it was not until they had returned to the castle that he spoke of what he had seen. and his first words gave his comrades a terrible shock. "no dog did that!" he said quietly, but in a tone of intense conviction. "whatever do you mean, renstoke?" asked dick quickly. "what else could have done it? there are no lions or tigers about here, you know." "are you sure?" replied renstoke. "i think we shall have to see erckmann about this." boris erckmann, he went on to explain, was a famous zoologist who lived in a big lonely house on the renstoke estate some ten miles away. he had spent many years in wandering explorations in tropical countries and was known in the inner circles of science as a man of brilliant attainments. he did not advertise himself, however, living the life of a recluse, and to the general public his name meant nothing. among his highland neighbours, a dour people who concerned themselves very little with the affairs of other folk, little notice was taken of him. he lived at lockie, a big house surmounted by a high wall and perched on a gaunt hill-side overlooking a lonely glen. among his neighbours, who guessed nothing of his wonderful abilities, erckmann passed for a harmless scientist and was affable and good-natured to those he chanced to meet during his incessant pilgrimages over the wide moorland which stretched for many miles around lockie. "erckmann is said to have a lot of wild animals at lockie," renstoke went on to explain, "and it is possible that one of them may have broken loose. i am perfectly certain macpherson was not killed by a dog." "but what makes you so certain?" dick questioned. "so far as i could see any big dog could have done it." "did you ever see a dog with hands, dick?" asked renstoke quietly. his hearers started simultaneously with a gasp of horror. "whatever do you mean?" they asked. "just this," lord renstoke replied. "he was not killed by a dog at all. as you saw, the front of his throat was badly torn. but on the back of his neck were two distinct bruises, one on each side and nearly meeting, which suggested the mark of two thumbs, as if he had been seized from behind by two hands which clasped his neck. now, no dog could have done that. moreover no dog could have killed him so quickly that he never had a chance either to fight for his life or to call for help. remember, he was an extremely powerful man and his nearest neighbour in the line was scarcely more than a hundred yards away. he was killed so suddenly and so swiftly that he had no time even to shout. i have seen many men who had been killed by wolves, bears, and cougars, but never one who had not made a fight for his life." "but what could it have been?" asked yvette in a horrified whisper. "there is only one animal in the world that could have done it," replied renstoke, "and that is a gorilla. you know the strength of the gorilla compared with that of a man is enormous. it has enormously powerful hands and teeth. a man seized unawares, as macpherson must have been, would be dead in a few seconds; he wouldn't have the smallest chance either to defend himself or to shout. and i happen to know, though it is not generally known, that erckmann actually has a gorilla at lockie. i am going over to see him after the inquest and i mean to see the gorilla as well. erckmann is a tenant of mine, though, as it happens, i have never seen him. "but there is one thing that puzzles me," renstoke went on after a pause. "the sheep-killing has been going on for several months, and i don't see where such an animal as a gorilla, assuming that it has been at large for so long, can have been hidden without being seen. but, of course, the country is very wild and there are some big woods that may have screened it during the daytime." "what are you going to say at the inquest?" dick asked abruptly. "nothing at all until i know a lot more," answered renstoke deliberately. "remember, we don't know anything positively yet. i am only giving you my personal opinion." all agreed that renstoke's plan was best. but they had yet to learn how far the appalling reality outstripped the horror of their suppositions. the inquest, held the following afternoon, was almost formal. there was no real evidence, of course, as to how the unfortunate man was killed, and what amounted to an open verdict was found. neither the doctor who examined the body, nor the detectives from glasgow who made every possible inquiry, struck the chain of reasoning which had led renstoke to his strange theory, and it was generally assumed that macpherson had been killed by some ferocious dog which had been lurking unseen for months in the wild country around renstoke. next morning all four started for lockie. erckmann's house, though only ten miles away in a direct line, was at least thirty by road, and as the day was fine they decided to motor for about five miles, leave the car, and walk across country for the remainder of the distance. it was this decision which led them to the first strange clue in the solution of the terrible mystery. at the point where they left the car, the road, which had been leading westward, made an abrupt turn at the summit of a desolate hill, and stretched away southward as far as they could see. their destination was further west, and as dick ran the car on to the grass at the side of the road, they prepared for their tramp. they had walked some four miles over rough heather-clad country when renstoke pointed to a big building a mile away and facing the top of the steep rise they had just breasted. "that is lockie?" he said. for the most part, the country was dry. below them, however, was a shallow valley, along the bottom of which a rippling burn wound its way. descending the hill they crossed the brook and soon found themselves at a tiny bridge beside the only gateway they could see in the high stone wall, surmounted by a formidable barrier of barbed iron, which surrounded the building. in response to renstoke's knock the door was opened by an ill-favoured individual, evidently a foreigner, who stared at them in blank surprise. "i want to see mr erckmann; is he at home?" renstoke demanded. the man made some reply in a language which neither of them understood. renstoke repeated his question. turning to a telephone which stood on a small table in the lodge the man spoke a few words. a moment later he signed to them to enter and conducted them to the entrance door of the big house. as they approached a big, powerfully built man, heavily bearded and wearing round horn spectacles, met them on the steps of the front door. renstoke bowed courteously. "mr erckmann?" he inquired. "yes, i am mr erckmann," was the reply. "what can i do for you?" renstoke as briefly as possible explained what had happened. erckmann listened patiently and carefully. only at the end of the story, when renstoke told him quite frankly his suspicions, the man's eyes hardened ominously and his lips tightened under his heavy grey moustache. "yes, i have a gorilla," he admitted. "but if you suggest that it has escaped you are quite wrong. it has never left its cage since it was brought here, quite young, six years ago. it would be a bad thing for some one if it did," he added. "may we see it?" asked renstoke quietly. "yes--if you doubt my word," snapped the scientist. he was evidently, for some reason, much annoyed and was controlling himself with obvious difficulty. during the conversation dick had once or twice glanced at yvette and was surprised at the fixity of the gaze she directed at erckmann. she was regarding him almost as if fascinated, with every sign of horror and apprehension. without further words erckmann led the way through a small paddock to a row of cages, heavily barred with iron, which stood at the rear of the house. before one of the strongest he halted. "there you are," he said grimly. inside the cage, erect on its hind legs, stood an enormous ape, shackled by a huge chain round its neck to a heavy stake driven into the ground. nearly seven feet high, it was so horribly repulsive in its perverted likeness to humanity, that yvette, dick, and jules turned away sick with disgust and horror. it snarled and chattered at the sight of the strangers. renstoke, however, carefully examined the monster. but he soon realised that this creature had certainly not been at large, at any rate for some considerable time. the clue had failed. whatever the truth might be it was clear the gorilla could have had no part in the terrible tragedy of alan macpherson. "a wonderful specimen," said renstoke, turning to erckmann. "have you had him long?" "about six years," the scientist replied. "would you like to see what it can do?" without waiting for a reply, he spoke softly to the raging beast in some language the others did not understand. instantly the brute calmed down, shuffled to the bars of the cage and laid its head on the ground close to where erckmann was standing. it was just as though a dog were fawning on its master. erckmann fearlessly thrust a hand between the bars and scratched the repulsive head while the great ape lay with closed eyes evidently in keen enjoyment of the sensation. still talking quietly in the strange language, erckmann put the beast through a number of tricks which it performed, clumsily, of course, but with obvious understanding of what was required of it. it was, as renstoke realised, a wonderful example of animal training, for the gorilla is perhaps the most intractable of all living animals. "perhaps as you are here you would like to see the rest of my menagerie," said erckmann, as he led the way to a series of cages adjoining. they gazed in astonishment at what they saw. there was a superb tiger, several leopards of different species, and at least a dozen wolves. the animals were all clean and well cared for and it was obvious at a glance that none of them could have been wandering for an indefinite period about the country. "i hope you are satisfied, lord renstoke," said erckmann at last, "that none of my pets is responsible for what has happened?" "quite," replied renstoke. "and i am sorry we had to trouble you. but i am sure you will understand why i came. the affair is so mysterious that i could not leave any possibility unexplored." erckmann had puzzled them all. the man was perfectly courteous and apparently quite open in his replies to their questions. none the less all sensed that he was ill at ease and that he quite certainly resented their intrusion. yvette, more sensitive and keenly strung than the others, shuddered violently as they left the house. "that man is bad, all bad," she declared vehemently. "he has the eyes of the snake." she had put into words what all had felt, yet had been half ashamed to confess. there was something repulsively snake-like in the steady glare of erckmann's eyes behind the thick round glasses. "i confess i feel like yvette," said dick, "the man gave me the creeps." renstoke looked grave. "he didn't strike me as being quite aboveboard," he admitted. "at the same time, i don't see what he has to conceal. all the cages were occupied and it is certain none of the animals had been loose recently, and if one had broken out there is no reason why he should not say so. but he may have another ape which he has not shown us?" they walked a few hundred yards in silence until they had got to the bottom of the hill and approached the little burn that ran down the valley. there was no path, and as chance would have it, they deviated a few yards from the way along which they had come. they were crossing the brook when yvette gave a slight exclamation. "oh, look here," she said. the bed of the burn was stony throughout, but at one point, at the very edge of the water was a tiny patch of sand, smooth and firm and hardly larger than a handkerchief. yvette pointed to it. there, sharply and clearly defined, was the unmistakable imprint of a naked, misshapen foot! it was human beyond all question. it pointed in the direction of the house they had just left, and it was dear that the barefooted walker, whoever he may have been, had stepped from the heather just on to the patch of firm sand and been carried by his next stride through and beyond the rivulet on to the heather and stones where no footprints would remain. by some strange chance that one tell-tale footprint had been left in perhaps the only square foot of ground for miles where an impression could be left! they examined the footprint with eager curiosity. evidently the walker, or rather runner, had come fast down the hill, for the front part of the foot was driven deeply into the sand while the heel was only just showing. "he must have been running," said renstoke, "and what kind of man could run over such a country as this?" the question was natural, for the heather grew thick and deep round there and they had found walking difficult enough; running would have been out of the question for any of them. they were puzzled by the strange footprint, but how little they guessed that it held the key to the terrible tragedy of renstoke! late that night, renstoke, dick, and jules sat yarning in the great old drawing-room at the castle. the night was close and sultry, with a threat of thunder in the air, and the big french windows which opened on to the spreading lawn were flung wide. they were discussing erckmann. "i didn't like him," said renstoke, "though it is recognised that he possesses genius in a marked degree." "oh! you've heard something then?" asked dick quickly. "yes. the general public know nothing of him, but i hear that he has an amazing theory that it is possible, by an operation on the brain, to abolish almost entirely the ordinary characteristics of a man or an animal, and by the injection of an appropriate serum to substitute the mental, and to some extent the physical, characteristics of another species. he believes that you can, for instance, take a puppy-dog, operate on its brain, inject a serum prepared in some way from the brain of a monkey, and the puppy will grow up with the mentality and habits of a monkey and with its bodily characteristics so transformed that it can do many things--such, for instance, as climb a tree--which no dog could do. i believe he has actually succeeded in doing this!" "how weird and extraordinary!" remarked yvette. "more than this, he believes you could do the same with a human being-- destroy its human attributes and give it, for example, the ferocity, and something of the speed, of a wolf or a tiger." "how on earth did you learn this, renstoke?" asked dick. "from perhaps the only person who ever knew erckmann really well," was the reply. "some years ago erckmann was the resident doctor at a lunatic asylum in prague. he made a particular crony of his chief assistant, a young doctor named chatry, who afterwards went to canada, where i met him. chatry told me something of erckmann's views and experiments. i was, of course, tremendously interested, but i little thought i should ever run against the man in the flesh. erckmann was undoubtedly a very able man, but there was a scandal. on some pretext or other he performed a remarkable operation on an insane person. the patient, who had previously been quite tractable, developed extraordinary characteristics. he growled and snapped at all who approached him, insisted on eating his food on the floor instead of at table, barked like a dog, and finally would only sleep curled up on a rug. in fact, he developed strikingly dog-like habits. how much of anything erckmann let out generally chatry never knew. but he was asked to resign, and he left prague." "a very curious story!" dick remarked. "now chatry had no doubt whatever on the subject," said his host. "amazing as it may seem, he was firmly convinced that erckmann had deliberately made this extraordinary experiment and that it had succeeded. chatry died just before i left canada, but before he died, he gave me a little manuscript book in which he has related the whole story. i'll show it to you to-morrow." they said good-night and went to bed, leaving renstoke, who sometimes suffered from insomnia, to read himself sleepy. it was about two o'clock when dick, who was a light sleeper, was roused by a shout for help, apparently from the drawing-room which was directly below his bedroom. instantly he sprang out of bed, and snatching up a revolver, rushed downstairs. but he was just too late. as he entered the brilliantly lighted drawing-room he caught sight through the open window of a heavy misshapen body disappearing into the gloom beyond the bright patch of light cast by the electric lamps on the lawn outside. renstoke lay on his back on the floor, dying beside his favourite chair. close by was the book he had been reading and on the carpet near it was his pipe, the tobacco still smouldering. dick knelt hastily by the side of his friend and sought frantically to revive him. but it was in vain. the young peer died in his arms. it was evident that he had been attacked without the slightest warning, and mercilessly strangled. and in the side of his throat, just above the jugular vein, was a deep wound, horribly lacerated, from which the blood flowed in a heavy stream. the castle was speedily aroused, and in a few minutes half a dozen men were busily searching the surrounding country. but it was in vain--the mysterious assailant of the unfortunate lord renstoke had vanished completely. the following day dick, jules, and yvette, almost overcome with grief, were discussing the loss of their friend. "there is some devilry at work," dick declared. "and i shall never rest till it is cleared up, if i spend the rest of my life here." yvette burst into a furious philippic against erckmann. "that man is at the bottom of it all," she insisted. "but, yvette," dick remonstrated, "we have no kind of evidence of that." "i don't care," she replied vehemently, "erckmann knows all about it. i should like to choke it out of him," she ended viciously in french. "well," said jules, "we can't go to lockie and accuse him. how about trying a trap of some kind?" "we might do it in that way," dick admitted. "but what kind of trap?" long and eagerly they discussed the matter, and at length a plan was evolved. the next morning brought them a visit from inspector buckman, one of the ablest men of the special branch at scotland yard, to whom, utterly baffled, the police had very wisely applied for help. he was well known to all of them as a keen, capable man of infinite resource and undaunted courage. buckman listened closely while dick ran over the story, putting in a keen question here and there. "we have got to keep the real facts quiet," he said at length. "erckmann must not suspect that we have the smallest inkling of the evidence of lord renstoke's death. i will fix that up with the coroner." it was an easy matter. renstoke castle was a remote spot, and while the affair, of course, could not be entirely concealed, it was a simple matter to keep the exact details secret. all the public learned was that lord renstoke had been attacked and murdered presumably by a burglar for whom a close search was being made. but behind all and working in secret the keen brains of dick, yvette, jules, and buckman were busy. two or three nights later the word went round to the scattered farms that every single head of stock was to be driven in to the farms and rigidly confined in the buildings from dusk to daybreak. so far as they could ensure it not a single living thing was at large. dick's trap was arranged on the hill-side a mile from renstoke. four inches above the ground, in a circle fifty yards in diameter, ran a thin electric wire supported at intervals on small insulated posts. just inside the circle, on the side away from renstoke, a sheep was tethered to a strong stake. in the centre of the circle from a tall pole hung a powerful magnesium flash, electrically connected so that it would be at once exploded by any pressure on the encircling wire, and momentarily light up with day-time brilliance a large patch of the surrounding country. as dusk fell, dick, yvette, jules, and buckman carefully crossed the wire and took up their positions in the centre of the circle, lying full length in the sheltering heather, and each with a revolver ready to hand. in a leash beside dick lay spot, his favourite airedale, who could be trusted to give warning of the approach of any intruder, and afterwards to track him remorselessly. as the leaden moments dragged by it grew darker and darker until the country-side was plunged in pitch blackness. the strain on the watchers was terrific. they could not smoke or talk, they hardly dared to move. hour after hour dragged by. midnight passed. dick, half asleep, was gently stroking the back of the airedale. suddenly he felt the animal stiffen, and the hair along its back bristled ominously. a moment later the dog gave a low, half-audible growl and rose to its feet. instantly the party were keenly alert. dick clapped his hand over the dog's muzzle, and the well-trained animal subsided into silence. but dick could feel that it was strainingly alert; obviously it sensed an intruder. keenly at attention, with every faculty strained to the utmost, the silent watchers heard not a sound. but a few moments later there was a vicious snap in the air above them as the magnesium flash exploded, turning the inky blackness for a fraction of a second into a blaze of dazzling light. in that brief outburst of radiance the four caught a glimpse of a horror that photographed itself indelibly on their memories. twenty-five yards away a bestial, hideous face loomed out in the glare of light. it was the epitome of all things evil, with wild matted hair, staring eyes and a horrible misshapen mouth drawn back in a snarl which showed two rows of monstrous teeth. the body they could not see. apparently the creature was crouching in the heather so that only its ghastly head was visible. had it been a wild animal not one of the four, their nerves steel-hardened by the war, would have felt a tremor. but that ghastly face, vile and brutal as it was, was unmistakably human, and for an instant the watchers were paralysed with uncontrollable terror. but it was only for a moment. four revolver shots rang out almost simultaneously, fired in the darkness at the spot where the apparition had appeared. a crackling volley followed as the four automatics were emptied. almost with the last shot came a howl of mingled rage and pain from the darkness. evidently a bullet had got home. a few moments later dick, with spot barking madly and tugging wildly at his leash, had plunged into the blackness in hot pursuit at the fiendish intruder. close behind him came yvette, jules, and buckman. the hunt had begun! of that wild dash across country in the darkness dick afterwards remembered but little. spot plunged ahead without hesitation and dick followed, intent only on making the best speed possible and careless of constant falls as he stumbled blindly along. he dared not loose the dog, for without it he would have been helpless, and he plunged blindly forward, his reloaded pistol grasped in his right hand, careless of himself and intent only on overtaking the horror which he knew lay somewhere ahead of him. behind him toiled the others, guided by spot's frantic barks. progress, of course, was slow; falls and stumbles every few moments checked the pace; the darkness was baffling. it was with feelings of intense relief that dick at length saw the silvery edge of the moon lifting itself above the hills behind him. he had lost all sense of direction, but the moon rising behind him told him he was travelling westward. half an hour later the country was bathed in soft light and dick was able to pick up his bearings. suddenly he realised with a shock that he was heading straight for lockie! dick halted to let the others come up. without being afraid he felt instinctively that something terrible lay ahead of them and that for safety's sake it were best that they should be together. they were a sorry-looking party--hatless, their clothes torn, their faces and hands bruised and scratched by constant falls, almost exhausted by their tremendous efforts. but none of them thought of giving up the chase. for another mile they pushed onward, making better progress in the growing moonlight. suddenly buckman gave a tremendous shout. "look there!" he roared, pointing to a low hill which ran across their path. not five hundred yards away, on the top of the rise and clearly silhouetted against the sky, they caught a glimpse of a monstrous figure which, even as they looked, vanished over the crest and was gone. it was, unmistakably, a man of giant stature! it moved stiffly as though in pain; evidently one of the shots fired in the trap had got home. they hurried on. when they reached the crest of the rise lockie lay before them, and they could see the monstrous figure crossing a tiny stream in the valley below. they were gaining rapidly now. dawn was breaking and the cold pale light allowed them a dear view. the creature ahead of them was toiling painfully up the slope which led to lockie. suddenly a man issued from the house. it was erckmann and in his hand he carried a formidable whip. less than two hundred yards away dick and his companions halted spellbound. in some mysterious fashion they realised that they were to witness the last act in the terrible drama. the end came swiftly. more and more slowly, almost crawling at last, the strange creature approached erckmann and at length, evidently utterly exhausted, collapsed at his feet in a heap. they heard the scientist shout something unintelligible. then he raised his heavy whip and struck with fearful force at the unfortunate thing which lay before him. it was a fatal mistake. with the speed of lightning the misshapen heap on the ground flashed into furious activity. all the horrified spectators saw was an instantaneous leap and a brief struggle, and erckmann and the thing locked in a deadly grapple and then drop motionless. dick covered the last hundred yards in a furious dash. but he was too late. erckmann lay dead, with his adversary dead on top of him. the zoologist had been killed almost instantly by the grip of two large hands that still encircled his neck in a vice-like clutch, and in his throat the misshapen fangs of the creature were still buried deeply. only with infinite trouble was the body of the scientist freed from that deadly grapple, and they were able to examine the monster that had spread terror and death through argyllshire. unmistakably the body was that of a man, but incredibly dehumanised and ape-like. the muscular development was tremendous; the hands and arms were knotted masses of titanic muscle. but the crowning horror was the face--low-browed, flat-nosed, with a tremendous jaw and long pointed teeth, utterly unlike anything human. the body, stark naked, was covered thickly with hair and in the side was a terrible wound evidently made by the impact of a soft-nosed bullet from one of the automatic pistols. no normal human being could have survived it for more than a few minutes. it was only later, when they searched lockie, that they realised fully that erckmann had fallen a victim to a monster he had himself created. his diaries proved that chatry had spoken the truth. they were a repellent but horribly fascinating account of his experiments. of the results he had written in a wealth of detail, but of the process he employed there was not even a hint. that awful secret he had kept to himself, and had taken with him to his grave. they found that he had, as chatry had said, taken a human being, obviously of low mental development--possibly an asylum patient--and practically, by some devilish discovery, converted it into a human ape, endowed with the blood-lust of the tiger. but whether the fearful creature was capable of receiving and acting upon instructions, or whether erckmann simply let it loose to follow its terrible instincts until the "homing" instinct brought it back they never learned. of lockie, the police decided to make a clean sweep. the animals were shot and the half-dozen evil-looking foreign servants were paid off and sent to their homes, mostly in the wilder parts of transylvania. they one and all refused to say a word. whatever they were, they were at least faithful to their dead master. then, in the magnificent chemical laboratory with which the house was equipped, dick, who found himself renstoke's sole executor, easily arranged an "accident." fire broke out, there was no help for miles around and in a couple of hours the ill-omened house was a heap of ashes. the spectre of lockie had been finally laid. chapter seven. the peril of the prefet. it was a mystery of the city of paris which engaged the trio--a secret that has never been told, though many enterprising newspapers have tried to fathom it. here it is related for the first time. on a gloomy mid-december morning the sensation-loving parisians awoke to a new and eminently agreeable thrill. it was only last year and the occasion will be well remembered. there had been trouble enough in the city of light, which for once at any rate belied its name. a series of strikes had half-paralysed the capital. coal and light were almost unobtainable; the public lamps remained unlit; at night the city of pleasure was plunged in profound gloom. there were misery and wretchedness in the haunts of squalor and poverty which flanked the wealthier districts where, at a price, all things agreeable were as usual obtainable. but the dumb underworld was becoming vocal! "a mort l'assassin!" at daybreak the startling legend suddenly, and without warning, revealed itself from a thousand vantage-points to the awakening city. in crude, blazing red it flared from the hoardings-- sinister, ill-omened and, above all, full of significance. parisians alone knew. there could be no possibility of doubt as to the individual referred to. it was, beyond question, raoul gregoire, the prefect of police, whose cold, ruthless vendetta against the dark, turbulent forces which flowed beneath the effervescent gaiety of the gay life of paris, had earned for him the vindictive hatred of the criminal world, and had gained him his unenviable sobriquet of "assassin!" for months raoul gregoire's life had hung by a thread. before his appointment he had been prefect of finisterre. a series of efforts to "remove" him had been defeated only in the nick of time. twice he had been badly wounded. once a bomb had wrecked his car just after he had left it. a less courageous man would have given up the unequal contest and sought a pretext for retirement--back to the quiet, sea-beaten coast of finisterre. but monsieur le prefet was of a different mould. stern and ruthless he was, but his courage was invincible. he remained calm and imperturbed-- far more so, indeed, than many of his subordinates, who feared that the vengeance of the underworld might fall, by accident or design, upon themselves. "gregoire has pushed things a bit too far," was yvette's verdict, as she talked over with dick manton and jules the latest and most blatant challenge to the forces of the law and order. "they mean to make certain this time. i'm sure of it?" "it certainly seems so," dick agreed. "but i wonder when and how it will be? that's the point. gregoire doesn't show himself much in public now; he is practically living in the prefecture, and surrounded by his agents he is far too well guarded for any attempt to be made there." "they will have a good chance at the sultan's reception," remarked jules reflectively. "monsieur le prefet will have to be in the procession--he can hardly stay away even if he wanted to. it would show the white feather." it was a day to which the gaiety-loving parisians were looking forward with special interest. france's age-long quarrel with the wild tribes of the morocco hinterland had at length been amicably settled, and their sultan, ahmed mohassib, a picturesque figure whose eccentric doings provided the gossip-loving boulevard with hundreds of good stories, was "doing" paris as the guest of the quai d'orsay. it was expedient to show the barbaric ruler all the honour possible, and the following friday was the day on which he was to pay a ceremonial visit to the elysee. there was to be a great procession, and the government had let the press understand that a skilfully worked-up popular demonstration was desirable. the papers had responded nobly, and it was certain that "tout paris" would be out to see the show. on the occasion, at any rate, monsieur le prefet must be greatly in evidence. he was responsible for public order and must ride in the procession whatever the risk to himself, a plain target, for once, for the bullet or bomb of the assassin. "to-day is saturday," yvette remarked. "we really have not much time to spare between now and the twenty-second. i think i will make a few inquiries to-night. jules had better go with me." dick's heart sank. he knew what yvette's "inquiries" meant--hours, perhaps days, spent in the lowest quarters of paris, surrounded by such horrible riff-raff that if her purpose were even suspected her life would be worth hardly a moment's purchase. but he knew it was useless to remonstrate. yvette had a perfect genius for "make-up," and what was far more important, a perfect knowledge of the strange _argot_ which served the underworld of paris. jules was almost as clever as yvette. but in this particular, of course, dick was far behind. he could not hope to sustain his part in surroundings where a single wrong word would mean instant suspicion, and probably a swift and violent death for all three. "i wish i could go with you, yvette," he said wistfully, "but, alas! i know it is quite impossible." yvette had many friends in the lower quarters of the montmartre. the proprietors of many of the low _buvettes_ of the slums--places where one could get absinthe and drugs--were secretly in her pay, and so far as they were concerned she had no fears; the traffickers trusted her because they knew their secrets were safe. and by an ingenious code system which depended upon a mere vocal inflexion of certain common words she could reveal her identity, no matter what her disguise, to those who were in her secret. darkness had fallen upon the city when two appalling specimens of the worst vagabondage of paris--a man and a woman--crept silently through the market quarter towards one of paris's vilest haunts of villainy. they were such woebegone specimens of humanity as might have served for figures in some new "inferno." bedraggled and unkempt, their hands and faces besmirched with grime, their clothes hanging in tatters, it would have been impossible for even the keenest eye to have detected the smart french girl and her usually debonair brother. so far as appearances went they were safe enough. the risk would come when they began to talk, and especially when they began to ask questions. here a slip of the tongue might betray them. but the risk had to be taken. the prefet himself, quite as anxious as dick for the safety of yvette and jules, had taken precautions to protect them as far as possible. actual escort, of course, was out of the question. both yvette and jules carried revolvers, but in addition jules had concealed in the ample pockets of his villainous clothing, a tiny but delicate wireless telegraph apparatus, powerful enough upon a dry battery to send out a wireless wave which would carry a thousand yards or so. this dainty little bit of electrical work was the invention of dick manton. hardly larger than an old-fashioned watch it was operated by a hundred-volt battery which fitted into a specially made pocket, and the tiny transmitting key could be operated with one finger without arousing the slightest suspicion. gregoire's agents were dotted thickly around the unsavoury neighbourhood, each in touch, by means of the wireless, with every movement yvette and jules might make. dick himself was not far away. how amply these precautions were justified the events of the night were to show. for hour after hour yvette and jules slunk from one haunt of vice to another, always keenly on the alert, frequently helped by one or another of yvette's disreputable friends, but yet unable to pick up the slightest vestige of the trail of which they were in such active search. at length their patient vigil culminated. plunging deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the slums, they had penetrated at length to a tiny bar in the very lowest and most dangerous portion of the market section. the place was crowded with a mass of riff-raff at which even yvette and jules, accustomed as they were to such sights and sounds, could not repress a shudder. the proprietor, as it happened, was a beetle-browed provencal whose one redeeming feature was gratitude to yvette. his character was utterly bad and he had been mixed up in dozens of affairs more or less disreputable. a year or two before a serious charge of which he happened to be innocent had been brought against him. yvette had managed, with considerable trouble, to lay the real culprit by the heels, and jules charetier, apache though he was, would now go through fire and water to serve her. yvette knew that in his house she was personally far safer than she would have been in many more pretentious establishments. charetier raised his eyebrows when he caught the slight inflexion that instantly revealed to him yvette's identity. but he took no further notice beyond serving the drinks for which she had asked. a moment later, with a significant look, he quitted the room. yvette, with a slang caution to look after her drink for a moment, slipped into the filthy street and round the corner to the side entrance of the house. charetier was waiting for her, and a few moments later they were seated in the man's dingy room on the floor above the bar. "whatever are you doing here, mademoiselle?" jules burst out impulsively. "this is no place, even for you!" "listen, charetier," replied the girl rapidly. "something is brewing for next friday. something serious! you have seen the posters. i _must_ find out about it. can you tell me where any of the `seven' are to-night?" jules charetier paled at the mention of "the seven," the powerful camarilla whose hidden influence was felt throughout the criminal underworld of paris, london, and new york. the men who, practically without risk to themselves, were responsible for half the anarchist crimes of the three great capitals. who they were, and their real names, not even yvette knew. never appearing directly themselves, they worked entirely through agents, and fighting against them, the police found themselves in a stifling fog of mystery. but, as yvette knew, charetier was deep in the councils of continental anarchism, and she knew, too, that in his hands the life of the ordinary police agent would have been worth nothing. even for herself she was not very confident, but she had decided on a bold stroke, trusting charetier with everything on the ground of the service she had done him. at first the man was obdurate. "not even for you, my dear mademoiselle," he said sullenly. "but, mademoiselle," he went on earnestly, "we have been friends, therefore i implore you for your own sake to drop the matter and get away as speedily as possible. i cannot tell you anything." yvette's revolver flashed out and in an instant she had the innkeeper covered. "listen, jules!" she cried imperiously. "my brother is below, and the house is surrounded. if i stamp upon the floor you will be raided instantly. and you know there are things here you would not like the police to see--they don't know it, but you and i do! suppose demidoff learned that his papers had fallen into raoul gregoire's hands--eh?" for a moment yvette thought charetier would have risked everything and sprung at her. but it was only for a moment. then he collapsed. it was evident he feared demidoff, the notorious bolshevik agent, even more than he feared the police. "very well, mademoiselle," he replied, beads of perspiration standing out upon his wide white forehead and, despite his bravado, a hunted look crept into his eyes. "you might try the `chat mort.' there will be a meeting there at three o'clock this morning. but again i implore you not to go. you cannot get in and if you did you would never come out alive." "in which room do they meet?" was yvette's only reply. "the one at the back, looking out upon the old courtyard," was charetier's reply. "i know no more than that." "thanks, charetier," said yvette as she rose to go. "but, my dear mademoiselle," implored the innkeeper, "you will not breathe--" yvette cut him short. "that's enough, charetier," she said in a freezing tone. "you surely know you are safe so far as i am concerned. you have done me a great service to-night and i shall not forget." five minutes later yvette and jules were hastening to the "chat mort," a tavern of a gayer night-life than the one they had just quitted. it stood on the corner of two filthy slums in the villette quarter and at the rear was one of those tiny courtyards which so often go with old french houses--a place given over to the storage of odds and ends of flotsam and jetsam which are hardly worth the trouble of keeping, or even stealing. only a rickety wooden fence divided it from the horrible alley deep in mud and refuse. they realised at once that to enter the house would be impossible. it was now long past two o'clock and the street was deserted; everything was silent as the grave, and from the closely shuttered "chat mort" there was not a glimmer of light. to all appearances the inhabitants were soundly asleep. but yvette placed implicit trust in charetier. she was sure that the mysterious meeting would be held at the appointed hour. they crept silently to the rear of the building, cautiously forced a way through the crazy fence, and a moment later were outside the window of the room which charetier had indicated as the meeting-place. crouching beneath the window they listened intently. they were safe enough except for some unforeseeable accident. there was no sound in the room; no glimmer of light through the shutters. jules took from his pocket a tiny drill which speedily and silently bit a half-inch hole through the rotting woodwork of the window. into this he thrust a plug which at the end bore an extremely delicate microphone receiver. with telephones at their ears they listened intently. not a word would be uttered in the room without their knowledge. they could see nothing, but if anything was whispered they would certainly hear it. the minutes dragged slowly past until just before three o'clock a slight sound caught jules' attention. some one had entered the room. a moment later came the rasp of a match being struck. three o'clock boomed from a distant church dock. footsteps echoed inside. the meeting was assembling! how they longed to see into that room of mystery! but that was impossible; they must rely upon the microphone alone for all the information they could obtain. jules' hand sought yvette's wrist, and in the morse code he tapped out with his fingers--he dared not speak--a caution to listen acutely. their only hope of identifying the criminals was by their voices. they could see nothing. they could not even tell how many people there were in the room. but the mutter of conversation in varying tones came dearly to their ears. it consisted mainly, as they expected, of fierce denunciation of monsieur le prefet of police, whom they named "the assassin." soon it became clear that the meeting had been called solely to settle the time and place of the attack; evidently the method had been decided upon earlier. not a single word could the listeners catch of how the attack was to be carried out, whether by bomb, or bullet, or knife. little did they guess the secret and deadly swiftness of the anarchists' plan. for some time the discussion continued. place after place was suggested and rejected upon one ground or another. suddenly a hard masterful voice cut across the talking. "the place d'italie will be the best," it declared. "half the road is up there and the procession must go along the avenue des gobelins, close to the old villa. at that distance it will be impossible to miss. and there will be no noise and no fuss till the job is done." the old villa! jules knew the place well--an ancient building dating back to louis xv, solidly built, and with all the quaint architectural features of the time. quite unsuitable for any modern purposes, its vast apartments had by degrees been turned into a queer medley of rooms which served partly as flats and partly as offices to a heterogeneous mass of tenants, many of them of more than doubtful reputation. but how any attack on raoul gregoire could be projected from a building which it was certain would, on the day of the procession, be packed with sightseers, jules was at a loss to conceive. that, however, remained to be discovered. for the moment the important thing was to capture the band of conspirators before they could make their escape. jules withdrew, and adjusting his portable instrument--a marvel of compactness--placed his foot against an iron lamp-post to make an earth contact, and swiftly called the prefecture of police by morse. the telephones were on his ears, and almost next second he heard the answering signal. then he tapped out on his wireless transmitter an urgent message. a moment later he and yvette had slipped clear of the place, and ran swiftly away. it was no part of their plan to risk recognition by any of the prisoners. at the head of the alley they waited for about six or seven minutes, when they met roquet, the inspector of the surete, who was in charge of the detectives who were rapidly converging on the inn. to him jules briefly explained the situation. "we have them safely enough," declared roquet with a strong accent of the midi. "every approach has been guarded for the last hour, and no one has been allowed to pass in or out. you can now leave it to us, m'sieur." yvette and jules were glad enough to say _au revoir_ and to hurry home for a much-needed rest. they could examine the prisoners at their leisure at the prefecture and, if possible, identify them by their voices. but a startling surprise awaited the detectives. their imperious knocking at the door of the frowsy chat mort at first brought no reply. a few minutes later the proprietor appeared, half-dressed and yawning drowsily as though just awakened from profound sleep. he was instantly arrested and handcuffed and the police poured into the house, revolvers drawn and ready for what they expected would be a furious combat with reckless and desperate men. to their utter amazement the house was empty! the room looking on to the courtyard, in which, according to jules and yvette, the conspirators had held their meeting, was in perfect order, apparently as it had been left the night before when the place was shut up. there was not a sign that anyone had been there for hours, not even a whiff of fresh tobacco smoke to suggest that the room had been recently occupied. roquet was utterly mystified. he had, with very good reason, dreamed any escape impossible. could jules and yvette have been mistaken? that, he felt, was out of the question. none the less the problem remained--where were the men? the house was speedily searched from attic to cellars, but in vain. there was not the smallest indication that any meeting had been held there! roquet naturally felt intensely foolish, and his embarrassment was in no way lessened by the voluble protestations of the proprietor who demanded, with every show of righteous indignation, the reason of what he was pleased to term "an outrageous domiciliary visit." there was, of course, no charge against him, and ultimately the baffled police were compelled to release him and retire, furious and puzzled at the utter failure of what had promised to be a brilliant _coup_. three days later the mystery was solved. from the cellar of the "chat mort" a narrow tunnel had been driven to an equally disreputable establishment a short distance away, and when the police had raided the house the plotters had swiftly bolted, leaving the innkeeper to drop behind them the stone slab in the cellar floor which covered the entrance to the tunnel. the position now was grave enough, and yvette, jules, and dick discussed it at length with the prefet and his lieutenants. to all entreaties that he should stay out of the procession the chief resolutely turned a deaf ear, and they found it impossible to shake his resolve. would the conspirators stick to the arrangement made at the "chat mort," or would they, alarmed by the raid on the house, make an eleventh-hour change in their plans? that was the problem to be solved. monsieur le prefet was living on the edge of a volcano, and all his precautions would, he feared, be of no avail against them. dick felt convinced they would carry out the plan arranged. it could not be imagined, he argued, that they would dream they had been overheard, and it was evident that the plan had been very carefully considered. ultimately it was decided to relax none of the ordinary precautions, but to keep a specially close watch on the old villa in the place d'italie. dick decided that, whatever the police did, he would make his own arrangements for that purpose. the sequel proved that it was well he did so. on the night prior to the procession the police carried out a very drastic _coup_. every known anarchist in paris was arrested on some pretext or another and locked up. one by one they were briefly interrogated, while jules and yvette, concealed in the room behind a screen, tried to recognise any of the voices they had heard in the chat mort. fifty or sixty prisoners had been interviewed before jules and his sister standing behind a screen heard a voice they recognised. it was that of the man who had suggested the old villa in the place d'italie as a suitable base for the attempt on the prefet. none of the others could be identified, and it was evident that the worst of the miscreants were still at large. the man whom they recognised proved to be anton kapok, a hungarian of whom nothing was known except that he was in the habit of delivering violent harangues at socialist and anarchist meetings. but it was evident now that he was far more dangerous than the police had hitherto supposed. closely interrogated, he denied everything. he knew nothing, he declared, of the "chat mort" and had not been mixed up in any conspiracy. his anarchist proclivities, however, he boldly admitted and declared that the police knew all there was to know about him. to the police a search of kapok's room in bellville revealed nothing more incriminating than a mass of anarchist literature. but dick made a discovery which they had overlooked. close to the ceiling, immediately above the fireplace, was suspended on two hooks what looked like a rod from which pictures might be hung. the police had, in fact, so regarded it. dick never knew what aroused his suspicions, but something impelled him to mount a ladder and fetch the rod down. then he made a startling discovery. the supposed rod was nothing less than one of the wonderful blow-pipes used by some of the aboriginal tribes of south america and elsewhere to shoot their poisoned darts with which they either fought their enemies or killed dangerous animals. one of the darts, a tiny affair fashioned out of a sharp thorn with a tuft of cotton which just filled the tube, was actually in position. instantly dick's mind travelled back to the strange deaths nearly a year before of two police officials who had been specially astute in the anti-anarchist campaign. both had been found dead in lonely streets, and in each case the only mark on the body was a tiny scratch on the cheek which no one had dreamed of connecting with their inexplicable death. as dick gazed at the deadly blow-pipe those scratches assumed a new and sinister significance. carefully removing the dart, dick hurried with it to the laboratory of doctor lepine, the well-known toxicologist. doctor lepine smiled. "lucky you didn't scratch yourself with it, monsieur manton," he said in french. "it would mean almost instant death!" he listened gravely as dick described the death of the two police agents. the doctor had been away in england at the time and had not even heard of the circumstances. but he hurried round to the prefecture with dick and carefully examined the documents which dealt with the two cases and described minutely the appearance of the bodies. "i have not the slightest doubt," he declared, "that both men were killed with one of these darts. every indication points to it. but as the darts were not found we must presume they were removed after death to avoid arousing suspicion. the victim would be paralysed almost instantly, and would fall and die almost on the spot where he was standing when the dart infected him. if there are any more of these accursed things in paris it will, i fear, be a difficult matter to protect monsieur le prefet, for a favourable opportunity must come in the long run." dick hurried back to kapok's room, meaning to secure the blow-pipe. to his amazement the deadly weapon had disappeared! the police agents on duty outside the room asserted that no one had entered. but an open window told its tale; some one had crept along the ledge outside, entered the room and possessed himself of the weapon. dick spent several anxious hours with the prefet, raoul gregoire, and inspector roquet, arranging a plan of campaign. next morning found him crouched in an upper window of a locked room in a house facing the old villa in the place d'italie. close at hand lay a powerful pneumatic gun, a weapon perfected by jules and almost as deadly and efficient as a rifle. he was haunted by a sickening _sense_ of foreboding. against every evidence of his reason and senses he felt convinced that it was from that old villa that danger threatened gregoire. yet he was bound to admit that his fears seemed absurd. the old house opposite was packed with sightseers, but there was a detective in every room close to the window. even the garrets had been searched. it was obvious that they had not been entered for months. yet dick could not shake off the uncanny feeling which haunted him. at last the head of the procession came in sight, with the blare of military bands and a crash of cheers from the thousands of spectators lining the streets. but dick had no eyes for the show. his whole attention was riveted on the building before him. the sultan ahmed mohassib, of morocco, in his white _burnous_ with many decorations, passed amid a hurricane of cheers. glancing along the procession dick saw the prefet--a soldierly figure sitting erect in his car. in a few moments he would be abreast of the villa. suddenly dick's eye was caught by a flash of light. glancing quickly upward he saw to his amazement that the window of a garret facing him--a room which had already been searched--had suddenly opened. only the chance reflection of the sun upon the glass had attracted his attention to the swift movement. as raoul gregoire passed, a dark rod, clutched in a hand which rested on the grimy windowsill, projected itself from the window. it wavered for a moment, then steadied itself and pointed downward. instantly dick fired. the hand disappeared with a jerk, while the rod slid forward and fell over to the ground! wild with excitement dick dashed down into the street. it was utterly impossible to force his way through the cheering crowd and he could only watch monsieur le prefet in a fever of anxiety. it was soon dear that raoul gregoire was untouched. evidently the would-be assassin, if he had indeed dispatched one of the poisoned darts, had missed his aim. five minutes later dick and half a dozen detectives were in the garret of the old villa. but they were too late. the bird had flown, badly hurt to judge by the blood which stained the floor. but on the window-sill lay three little poisoned darts ready for use. a glance at the open skylight in the low roof was enough. in a moment they were out on the roof of the adjoining house. a few yards away was a rope ladder hooked over the parapet and dangling to the exterior fire-escape leading from the roof of a big drapery store only ten feet below. the miscreant himself had vanished. the would-be murderer, it was clear, must have climbed the fire-escape during the darkness of the previous night, and lain hidden on the roofs till the procession came along. after the garret had been searched, he had slipped down with impunity while every one was excitedly watching the procession. they never caught him. but when gregoire returned to the prefecture a poisoned dart was found sticking in the upholstery of his car, close to his head. had it been a bare half-inch lower down it would, no doubt, have struck him with fatal result. dick's lightning shot had spoilt the miscreant's aim and saved the prefet's life. the incident is one of the secrets of the life of official paris and led to the prefet's resignation a month later, an occurrence which filled all france with dismay and was the cause of much conjecture and speculation. raoul gregoire has returned to the provinces and is now prefet of the department of the alpes-maritimes an appointment which he much prefers. chapter eight. the message for one eye only. the heat was stifling in the gran ancora at barcelona, an obscure but grandiloquently named cafe of more than doubtful reputation. at dilapidated tables in the long apartment which served as a saloon groups of rough-looking men were drinking steadily. the fumes of strong tobacco poisoned the heavy atmosphere, flies swarmed over everything, the air was full of the reek of stale drink and unwashed humanity. though it was but early evening the ill-omened place was already filling up. it was a notorious haunt of betting men and some of the worst characters of the town, frequented by desperadoes who were ready to undertake any deed of violence if it offered the promise of plunder. the swarms of anarchists, who are the curse of spain, found there a ready welcome and congenial companionship. at a table at one end of the long room, sat a solitary individual who was reading the "diario," an anarchist journal devoted to the preaching of doctrine of the most revolutionary type. he spoke to no one, and no one spoke to him, though now and again curious glances were directed towards him. he took no notice of the hubbub around him, but went on calmly reading his paper and sipping slowly at a glass of the villainous wine which seemed to be the favourite beverage of the habitues of the house. the stranger was no other than dick manton. he had come to barcelona on the trail of a gang of international crooks who had got away with a hundred thousand francs by a clever bank swindle in paris. had his identity been suspected his life in that haunt of depravity would not have been worth five minutes' purchase. but he sat there undisturbed, apparently oblivious of what was going on around him, but in reality keenly on the alert and with one hand close to the butt of the heavy revolver which, as he well knew, he might be called upon to use at any moment in the deadliest earnest. manton stiffened suddenly as his eye fell on the queer jumble of figures quoted above. they were buried away in a mass of advertisements and might well be overlooked by the casual reader. as dick well knew, the "diario" was used for all kinds of queer communications to all kinds of queer people, and he was attracted by the hint of mystery, a lure which he could never resist. the jumble of figures fascinated him. he had a strange feeling that it would be well worth while to try to decipher the weird cryptogram. but he knew better than to try to do so there. it was not healthy to try in public to pry into the secrets of the underworld of barcelona. dick manton had had a strange and adventurous career. but as he gazed at the odd announcement, he had a premonition that he was on the edge of a mystery stranger than anything that he had so far encountered. having read the queer cryptogram over and over again, dick slipped the paper into his pocket. presently he finished his wine and sauntered out, with an uneasy feeling that made him wonder whether he would reach the door without a bullet in his back. he got out in safety, however, and once clear of the doubtful neighbourhood of the cafe, made his way swiftly to his rooms at the "hotel falcon." it took several hours of hard work before he could obtain the key of the cipher. then he realised with a gasp that it was in one of the simplest of british signal codes. the key read: at first dick was completely mystified. the message conveyed nothing to him. who were mataza, wilson, and greening? where was chalkley? and, above all, why should such a message appear in an english code in an obscure paper published in barcelona? it was the last point which worried him most. he felt instinctively that the message must conceal a meaning of which he was necessarily ignorant, and that it must be related to some affair which was pending in england. the more he thought about it the more uneasy he grew. he had the premonition which so often comes to the help of the detective, and at length, though he was almost ashamed of acting on such slender grounds, he decided to consult his chief. an hour later he was on his way to paris, leaving the affair of the bank swindlers in the hands of a capable subordinate. arriving in paris he drove straight to regnier's private apartment, just off the place de la concorde. "why, manton, what brings you here?" asked regnier in surprise. "have you finished at barcelona already?" for answer dick laid the deciphered cryptogram before the chief. "what do you make of that?" he asked abruptly. regnier read the slip of paper with knitted brows. "queer," he commented. "why should it be published in the `diario'? i think it means mischief. do you know chalkley?" dick shook his head. "no," he replied, "but it sounds like an english name. and yet i have a feeling that i must have heard it somewhere. it sounds familiar, but i cannot place it. in the meantime i will run home and see if the english papers will tell me anything." dick found jules and yvette eager for news; he had telegraphed them that he was returning. dick, jules, and yvette had become the most formidable combination in the french secret service. they always insisted on working together, they would accept no assistance except that which they chose themselves, and they would work only under the direction of regnier, who was astute enough to realise their abilities. yvette had been prevented by a slight illness from accompanying dick to barcelona, and both she and jules, who had stayed with her, hated inaction. there had been a slump in international crime of the kind in which they specialised, and they were suffering from _ennui_. anything which promised excitement and adventure was welcome. they listened eagerly while dick told his story. "and now," said dick, half ruefully, as he concluded, "i don't know whether we are on the track of something or whether i have been an idiot." yvette's eyes were dancing with merriment. "well, dick," she said, "you are certainly a pretty englishman not to know one of the most famous places in your own country. don't you really know chalkley?" "no," replied dick in bewilderment. "what do you know about it?" for answer yvette rummaged among a pile of newspapers and produced a copy of the "times" dated a week before. "there?" she said. "read that." "that" was a closely printed column which dick proceeded to scan with attention. it was an article describing the wonderful deposits of pitchblende, the ore from which radium is extracted, which had been discovered in the ural region in the neighbourhood of zlatoust. an english combine had secured the monopoly of the working for fifteen years, and already a supply of radium valued at one hundred and fifty thousand pounds had been brought home by the famous professor fortescue for the use of british chemists and medical men. the discovery and acquisition of the monopoly by british interests, the article pointed out, had put england far ahead in the field of radium research, for she had now a big supply of the precious commodity at her disposal, while other nations were struggling along with the tiny quantities obtained from other and far less rich deposits. and, as was fully explained, it was not in medicine alone that the radium would be valuable; there was hardly a department of commerce, to say nothing of the arts of warfare, in which radium was not playing a considerable and constantly increasing part. so many new discoveries were being made by the band of experts, of whom professor fortescue was the acknowledged head, that it was beginning to be realised that radium in the future was likely to be as valuable as coal and oil had been in the past. but--and here was the fact of most significance to dick--the radium was at chalkley, professor fortescue's home in the wilds of the durham moors. he had taken it there on his return from zlatoust for use in some critical experiments he had in hand before it was sent on to the young but growing school of medicine at durham university. they had at least approached the heart of the mystery! it was evident that some band of international desperadoes had designs on the precious radium. in spite of their enormous value, the two tubes containing the salt could easily be carried in a man's pocket, and in germany there would be a ready market for it among the great chemical firms, whose business consciences were sufficiently elastic to permit them to pay a big price and ask no awkward questions. dick was reading the report carefully, when he suddenly gave a startled exclamation. "why, look here," he said, "the radium is only to be kept at chalkley till the twenty-ninth. that explains the twenty-nine in the advertisement. and to-day is the twenty-seventh. if anything is to happen it must be at once or they will be too late. i must ring up regnier." regnier was with them in half an hour. he was filled with excitement when he learned the facts which yvette had discovered. "that," he said, "puts an entirely new complexion on the affair. there can now be very little doubt about the matter. clearly `lead' means radium, and i think we can interpret `bull market' as an intimation that it is a big prize. they are evidently well informed, whoever they are. we must tell london at once." but before anything could be done a messenger for regnier arrived post haste from the bureau of the secret service in the quai d'orsay with strange news. a big aeroplane, flying at a tremendous speed, had crossed the franco-spanish frontier near bagneres de luchon having apparently come right across the pyrenees. it had ignored all the signals of the french frontier guards, whose aeroplanes had, in consequence, gone up in pursuit. only one of them was fast enough to approach the stranger, and a fight had followed in which the french machine was crippled and forced to descend. thereupon the strange machine had proceeded, flying in the direction of bordeaux. telephone messages had brought warning of its approach, and several attempts had been made to stop it, but without success. it had been reported, chased by french aeroplanes over bordeaux, nantes, and st malo, and at the latter place, just as dusk was falling, it had left the french coast and laid a course apparently for england. no further news of it had been received. regnier looked grave. "of course," he said, "we have absolutely no reason to couple this machine with the advertisement in the `diario,' but i confess i am uneasy. there is at chalkley radium worth a fortune, easily carried if anyone can get hold of it, and readily convertible into cash. what better device could be employed than a fast aeroplane which could get to durham and away before anyone could hope to stop it? in any case, i am going to telephone scotland yard at once." half an hour later he was in communication with inspector cummings, the senior officer on duty at the yard. to him he explained his suspicions, half afraid, with the frenchman's dread of ridicule, that the other would laugh at his story as an old woman's tale. but inspector cummings was too experienced to be neglectful or sceptical of anything which could disturb regnier, whom he well knew to be one of the most astute and level-headed of men. he took the matter seriously enough. "we have heard nothing yet," he said. "but i will 'phone durham at once and let you know in the course of an hour." they waited anxiously for the reply. it came at last. "cummings speaking," said the voice on the 'phone. "i have spoken to durham. they have heard nothing there, but they are unable to obtain any reply from professor fortescue. the telephone exchange reports his line out of order. "but here is a queer thing. a big aeroplane, evidently a foreigner, was reported this morning to have been seen over the midlands flying north. there was a lot of mist about, and we have not been able to trace the machine yet. but it was certainly not one of ours." "well," said regnier, "will you keep me posted? i fancy you will have more news before long. in any case, you will have durham warned?" "i have warned them myself," replied cummings, "and they are sending a couple of men out in a motor to make inquiries. you know chalkley is about twenty-five miles from durham and quite in the wilds. professor fortescue was, a couple of years ago, carrying out some experiments in which it was absolutely necessary he should be away from anything like traffic vibrations, and he chose this place for the purpose because it was remote from any railway or heavy traffic. he has stayed there ever since; he said it suited him to be `out of the world,' as he called it." three hours later came still more startling news. the police officers who had gone from durham to chalkley had found that two armed men had made a raid on professor fortescue's house. they had gagged the servants, who were found lying bound and helpless, and the professor himself was found lying unconscious in his laboratory, having apparently been sandbagged. the raiders had leisurely helped themselves to food, and, having cut the telephone wires, had departed without any particular haste. but the great leaden safe, weighing several hundredweights, in which the precious radium had been brought to england, was found to have been broken open. _the radium was gone_! nothing in the meantime had been heard of the strange aeroplane. but a few hours later an old shepherd walked into one of the local police-stations and told a queer story. his sheep the previous evening, he reported, had been disturbed by the passing of an aeroplane which, flying very low, had landed on the moors a few miles away from the professor's house. it had stayed there all night and, so far as he knew, was still there. he had been unable to approach it closely as it was separated from where he had been by a deep gorge and a stream which he could not cross without making a detour of several miles. he had seen two men near the machine who had walked away and disappeared in the folds of the moor. a strong party of police, cummings added, had left at once for the spot where the aeroplane had been seen, taking the shepherd with them as guide. the place was remote from any road, and it would be an hour or two before they could get there. but the air ministry had been warned, and already aeroplanes were going up in the hope of locating the strange machine. "i must be in this," said dick. "ask him if i can come over. i cannot, of course, go unasked." "of course," said cummings in reply to regnier's request. "we shall be only too glad to have mr manton. miss pasquet can come too, if she likes. but i'm afraid he won't be able to get here in time. we shall either have got these fellows or lost them hopelessly in a few hours." dick turned to jules. "ring up the british air ministry," he said, "and ask them if the strange machine gets off the ground to send us every movement as it is reported. keep the telephone on all the time. i am going to try to cut these chaps off with the mohawk. you will have to report to me by wireless every movement as it comes through. from what we have heard i fancy there are very few machines in england fast enough to catch those fellows if they once get started. of course you will come, yvette?" an hour later, dick and yvette, seated in the helicopter, were in full flight for england. yvette was at the controls; dick, in view of the work that might be before them, crouched over the tiny machine gun which peered from the bow of the machine. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ professor fortescue was in a terrible state of distress. he had been working in his laboratory, when a slight noise had caused him to turn round. a man, apparently a foreigner as the professor judged from the hasty glance he got at him, was standing close behind him. before the professor could speak or move he received a violent blow on the head, and remembered nothing more till he recovered consciousness some time later under the care of the police. his chief concern was for the radium, and his distress at its loss was pitiful. it was a disaster from which he seemed unable to recover. but he appeared to derive a strange satisfaction from the danger in which the thieves would find themselves. "i don't know how they will get it away," he declared to the police inspector. "it was dangerous to stay very near the safe for long owing to the terrible power of the radium rays. if the thieves try to carry the tubes in their pocket they will not get very far. surely they cannot realise the terrible risk they are running. however, that need not distress us; all we want is to get the radium back." in the meantime a strong party of police had arrived from durham at the professor's house, and, under the guidance of the old shepherd, started across the moors for the spot at which the strange aeroplane had been seen. it was slow going over rough and difficult ground which tested the endurance even of the younger men. the only unconcerned person was the old shepherd who trudged stolidly on at a pace with which they found it difficult to keep up. they had gone eight or nine miles before the old man spoke. "not far now," he said. a mile farther on he halted. "it's just over yon hill," he said, pointing to a small eminence a few hundred yards away. "you will see it as soon as you get at the top." breasting the rise, the police cautiously approached the ridge and glanced over. there in the valley, only five or six hundred yards away, was the aeroplane. two men in air kit stood beside it. scattering into a thin line the police rushed down the slope, every man with a revolver ready in his hand. but they were just too late. they had only gone a few yards when the men hastily took their places in the machine, there was a loud whirr as the engine broke into action, and while the policemen were still a hundred yards away, the strange machine rose into the air and was gone. a furious volley rattled out from the revolvers, but the range was too great and the breathless policemen had the mortification of seeing the machine disappear rapidly to the south. immediately the fastest runner of the party started at a trot for the professor's house to send out a warning. but it was not necessary. the aerodromes all over the kingdom had been warned by wireless from the air ministry, and already a host of machines were scouting in every direction. the stranger, flying due south, had reached bradford before he was signalled. instantly there was a rush of aeroplanes from all parts of the midlands to cut him off. but he slipped through the cordon, flying very high and at a tremendous speed. outside birmingham a fast scout picked him up and reported by wireless, and from the huge aerodrome at cheltenham over twenty fighting planes leaped into the air to stop the career of the marauder. there was now no chance, at least, of his getting away unobserved. he was under constant observation, alike from the air and the ground, and every moment wireless messages were pouring into the air ministry reporting his progress. but to catch him proved impossible. only two of the pursuing machines were fast enough to keep up with the stranger, and even they could not overtake him. so the headlong flight went on, drawing ever nearer to the southern coast. if the stranger could get out to sea all chance of stopping him would vanish. but, unknown to the furious british airmen, help was close at hand. warned by jules' wireless messages of the direction the strange machine was taking, yvette had steered a course to intercept him somewhere in the neighbourhood of bournemouth, and the mohawk, with its wireless chattering incessantly, was now swinging lazily at half speed in a big circle between salisbury and the hampshire watering-place. "over salisbury now," called yvette to dick, her voice ringing out clearly above the muffled hum of the propeller, the only sound which came from the helicopter, with its beautifully silenced engines. a few minutes later dick pointed to the north. "here he comes," he shouted. far away were three tiny specks in the sky. through his glasses dick could make them out clearly enough. the leader was a machine of a type he had never seen before; a mile behind it were a couple of planes which he at once recognised as the bristol fighters which had been so familiar to him in france. the pace of the three machines was terrific. it was clear the english airmen were going all out in a desperate effort to catch the stranger before he reached the water, and they were expending every ounce of energy. but a moment or two later it was quite clear they were falling behind. presently a puff of smoke from the leader signalled "petrol exhausted," and he dropped in a long slant to the ground. the second machine, however, held on grimly, though slowly losing ground. evidently his predicament was the same as that of his colleague, and a moment later he, too, dipped earthward and was out of the fight. only the mohawk stood between the stranger and safety! but it was a mohawk very different from the comparatively crude machine of a year before, wonderful though that was. dick and jules had worked out a revolutionary improvement in the lifting screws, with the result that a small supplementary engine, using comparatively little power, was now sufficient to keep the machine suspended in the air. as a result the full power of the big twin driving engines was now available for propulsion, and the speed of the mohawk, when pushed to the limit, was something of which dick had hardly dreamed in his earlier days. so far as he knew the mohawk was easily the fastest craft in existence. but what of the stranger? had the men of the mystery craft a still greater secret up their sleeve? that they had something big dick could plainly see by the way the fastest craft of the british air service, the best in the world, had dropped astern of the stranger. was the mohawk fast enough to beat the pirate? they would soon know. as the big machine came on, yvette set the elevating propellers of the mohawk to work, and the helicopter shot upward. the stranger saw the manoeuvre and at once followed suit. but here he was at a disadvantage. yvette's object, of course, was to get above him. he would then be at their mercy, for he could not fire vertically, while the gun of the mohawk was specially constructed so as to be able to fire downwards through a trap which opened in the flooring. if they could get what in the air corresponded to the "weather gauge" at sea, they would have the marauder at their mercy if the mohawk had speed enough to hold him. could they do it? plainly the fugitive saw his danger. as yvette shot upward he must have realised that in speed of climbing he was no match for his antagonist. he decided to trust to his heels. yvette, climbing rapidly, had got a couple of thousand feet above the stranger and was heading to meet him. they were now twelve thousand feet in the air. suddenly, with a tremendous nose dive, the foreign aeroplane slipped below them. the manoeuvre was so smartly carried out that yvette was completely taken by surprise, and before she could recover herself the chance of bringing the stranger to battle had gone. he had passed five thousand feet below them, and the issue now depended upon speed and endurance. with a cry of disappointment, yvette swung the mohawk round in pursuit. their quarry, by his daring manoeuvre, had gained a couple of miles before she could turn, and was fast disappearing towards the sea. dick shook his head. he had seen the speed of which the fugitive was capable, and he had the gravest doubts whether the mohawk could equal it. waiting for the strange aeroplane, yvette had set the mohawk to a comparatively slow pace. she had misjudged the distance and her error had enabled the raider to get a more than useful--possibly a decisive-- lead. but even as she swung round she had pressed the accelerator and the mohawk quivered as the big twin engines began to work up to their maximum. watching keenly, dick saw the apparent rush away of the foreigner slacken and finally stop. they were at least holding their own. he signalled yvette for more speed. she shook her head. dick was in despair. the pace at which they were going was not enough. he thought it was their best. but he had not calculated on yvette's resourcefulness. the french girl had swiftly made up her mind. she knew they had plenty of petrol for several hours' flight. they were holding their own already in the matter of speed, and the mohawk, though dick did not know it, had still some knots in reserve. yvette would not jeopardise the engines by instantly pushing them to the limit. but they were "warming up" under her skilful handling. they were two miles behind as they passed over bournemouth and started the long flight to the french coast which the stranger was seeking. half an hour slipped by and dick suddenly realised that the mohawk was gaining, slowly, it was true, but unmistakably. he looked inquiringly at yvette, who nodded and smiled. "all right, dick," she shouted. "we can get them any time we want." dick realised her plan. his own thought, as a fighting man, would have been to close at once and have it out. but yvette had the radium in mind. if they smashed the stranger over the sea the priceless radium would inevitably be lost. with the mohawk gradually gaining, the chase drew near to the french coast. cherbourg loomed ahead of them, drew near, and disappeared beneath them. they were over france. instantly yvette began to coax the mohawk to do its best. splendidly the engines responded, the plane shot forward at a pace which surprised dick, and a few minutes later they were directly above the fugitive. the battle was all but won. in vain their quarry sought, by diving and twisting, to shake them off. his position was hopeless. seeing a good landing-place ahead dick fired a couple of shots as a signal. they could see the terrified face of the passenger in the plane below gazing upward at the strange shape of the mohawk above them. then the signal of surrender came, and the fugitive dipped earthward. a couple of minutes later it came to land, and the two occupants stood holding up their hands while the mohawk came gently to earth fifty yards away, dropping vertically from the sky in a fashion which caused the pilot of the foreign machine the wildest astonishment. the radium was saved! but it enacted a fearful revenge. the unfortunate passenger, who they found out later was a well-known spanish anarchist, had imprudently placed the two tubes in his pocket, apparently ignorant of their terrible power. even in the short time he had them in his possession he was so terribly burned that he died a couple of days later in spite of the efforts made to save him, while the pilot, who had, of course, been near enough to the tubes to get some of the effects, was also so seriously injured that for weeks his life hung in the balance. it was found impossible to remove the tubes to england until professor fortescue, overjoyed at the good news, came bringing the leaden safe into which the precious tubes were placed. the sequel came a week later. not even the british war office could ignore the fact that the mohawk, single-handed, had achieved a feat at which the british air force had signally failed. a highly placed official sought dick out. the result was that the plans of the mohawk were sold jointly to england and france at the price of one hundred thousand pounds. and regnier lost his "star" combination. dick had no longer before his eyes the fear that had haunted him for so long that in marrying yvette he would be condemning her to a life of comparative poverty. and so the companionship born amid the stress and tumult of war came at last to perfect fruition in the marriage between the two lovers which took place in paris just three months after their last air adventure. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ the end. note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see -h.htm or -h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/ / -h/ -h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/ / -h.zip) +-----------------------------------------------------------------+ | transcriber's notes | | | | transcription used for this e-text: | | italic text in the original work is transcribed between | | underscores, as in _text_; | | bold face text in the original work is transcribed between | | equal signs, as in =text=; | | bold face underlined text in the original work is transcribed | | between tildes, as in ~text~; | | super- and subscripts in the original work are transcribed as | | ^{text} and _{text}, respectively; | | greek characters have been transcribed as [alpha], [beta], | | etc.; | | the oe-ligature in phoenix has been transcribed as oe. | | | | some in-line multi-line formulas have been transcribed as | | single-line formulas, where necessary with brackets added. | | | | some table headings have been replaced by legends [a], [b], etc;| | these are listed directly above the relevant tables. | | | | more extensive transcriber's notes may be found at the end of | | this text. | +-----------------------------------------------------------------+ aviation engines design--construction--operation and repair by first lieut. victor w. pagÉ, a. s. s. c., u. s. r. * * * * * ~just published~ =aviation engines. their design, construction, operation and repair.= by lieut. victor w. pagÉ, aviation section, s.c.u.s.r. a practical work containing valuable instructions for aviation students, mechanicians, squadron engineering officers and all interested in the construction and upkeep of airplane power plants. octavo pages. illustrations. price $ . . =aviation chart, or the location of airplane power plant troubles made easy.= by lieut. victor w. pagÉ, a.s., s.c.u.s.r. a large chart outlining all parts of a typical airplane power plant, showing the points where trouble is apt to occur and suggesting remedies for the common defects. intended especially for aviators and aviation mechanics on school and field duty. price cents. =glossary of aviation terms.= compiled by lieuts. victor w. pagÉ, a.s., s.c.u.s.r. and paul montariol of the french flying corps on duty at signal corps aviation school, mineola, l. i. a complete glossary of practically all terms used in aviation, having lists in both french and english, with equivalents in either language. a very valuable book for all who are about to leave for duty overseas. price, cloth, $ . . =the norman w. henley publishing company= west th st., new york * * * * * [illustration: part sectional view of hall-scott airplane motor, showing principal parts.] * * * * * censored this book entitled aviation engines by lieut. victor w. pagÉ has been censored by the united states government, and pages and parts of pages have been omitted by special instructions from washington. the book has been passed by the committee on public information and is as complete as we can furnish it, and we so advise the purchaser of it. the norman w. henley publishing company * * * * * aviation engines design--construction--operation and repair a complete, practical treatise outlining clearly the elements of internal combustion engineering with special reference to the design, construction, operation and repair of airplane power plants; also the auxiliary engine systems, such as lubrication, carburetion, ignition and cooling. it includes complete instructions for engine repairing and systematic location of troubles, tool equipment and use of tools, also outlines the latest mechanical processes. by first lieut. victor w. pagÉ, a. s. s. c., u. s. r. assistant engineering officer, signal corps aviation school, mineola, l. i. author of "the modern gasoline automobile," etc. [illustration] contains valuable instructions for all aviation students, mechanicians, squadron engineering officers and all interested in the construction and upkeep of airplane power plants. new york the norman w. henley publishing company west th street copyrighted, by the norman w. henley publishing co. printed in u. s. a. all illustrations in this book have been specially made by the publishers, and their use, without permission, is strictly prohibited composition, electrotyping and presswork by the publishers printing co., new york preface in presenting this treatise on "aviation engines," the writer realizes that the rapidly developing art makes it difficult to outline all latest forms or describe all current engineering practice. this exposition has been prepared primarily for instruction purposes and is adapted for men in the aviation section, signal corps, and students who wish to become aviators or aviation mechanicians. every effort has been made to have the engineering information accurate, but owing to the diversity of authorities consulted and use of data translated from foreign language periodicals, it is expected that some slight errors will be present. the writer wishes to acknowledge his indebtedness to such firms as the curtiss aeroplane and motor co., hall-scott company, thomas-morse aircraft corporation and general vehicle company for photographs and helpful descriptive matter. special attention has been paid to instructions on tool equipment, use of tools, trouble "shooting" and engine repairs, as it is on these points that the average aviation student is weakest. only such theoretical consideration of thermo-dynamics as was deemed absolutely necessary to secure a proper understanding of engine action after consulting several instructors is included, the writer's efforts having been confined to the preparation of a practical series of instructions that would be of the greatest value to those who need a diversified knowledge of internal-combustion engine operation and repair, and who must acquire it quickly. the engines described and illustrated are all practical forms that have been fitted to airplanes capable of making flights and may be considered fairly representative of the present state of the art. victor w. pagÉ, _ st lieut. a. s. s. c., u. s. r_. mineola, l. i., october, . contents pages chapter i brief consideration of aircraft types--essential requirements of aerial motors--aviation engines must be light--factors influencing power needed--why explosive motors are best--historical--main types of internal combustion engines - chapter ii operating principles of two- and four-stroke engines--four-cycle action--two-cycle action--comparing two- and four-cycle types-- theory of gas and gasoline engine--early gas-engine forms-- isothermal law--adiabatic law--temperature computations--heat and its work--conversion of heat to power--requisites for best power effect - chapter iii efficiency of internal combustion engines--various measures of efficiency--temperatures and pressures--factors governing economy --losses in wall cooling--value of indicator cards--compression in explosive motors--factors limiting compression--causes of heat losses and inefficiency--heat losses to cooling water - chapter iv engine parts and functions--why multiple cylinder engines are best --describing sequence of operations--simple engines--four and six cylinder vertical tandem engines--eight and twelve cylinder v engines--radial cylinder arrangement--rotary cylinder forms - chapter v properties of liquid fuels--distillates of crude petroleum-- principles of carburetion outlined--air needed to burn gasoline-- what a carburetor should do--liquid fuel storage and supply-- vacuum fuel feed--early vaporizer forms--development of float feed carburetor--maybach's early design--concentric float and jet type --schebler carburetor--claudel carburetor--stewart metering pin type--multiple nozzle vaporizers--two-stage carburetor--master multiple jet type--compound nozzle zenith carburetor--utility of gasoline strainers--intake manifold design and construction-- compensating for various atmospheric conditions--how high altitude affects power--the diesel system--notes on carburetor installation--notes on carburetor adjustment - chapter vi early ignition systems--electrical ignition best--fundamentals of magnetism outlined--forms of magneto--zones of magnetic influence --how magnets are made--electricity and magnetism related--basic principles of magneto action--essential parts of magneto and functions--transformer coil systems--true high tension type--the berling magneto--timing and care--the dixie magneto--spark-plug design and application--two-spark ignition--special airplane plug - chapter vii why lubrication is necessary--friction defined--theory of lubrication--derivation of lubricants--properties of cylinder oils --factors influencing lubrication system selection--gnome type engines use castor oil--hall-scott lubrication system--oil supply by constant level splash system--dry crank-case system best for airplane engines--why cooling systems are necessary--cooling systems generally applied--cooling by positive pump circulation-- thermo-syphon system--direct air-cooling methods--air-cooled engine design considerations - chapter viii methods of cylinder construction--block castings--influence on crank-shaft design--combustion chamber design--bore and stroke ratio--meaning of piston speed--advantage of off-set cylinders-- valve location of vital import--valve installation practice--valve design and construction--valve operation--methods of driving cam-shaft--valve springs--valve timing--blowing back--lead given exhaust valve--exhaust closing, inlet opening--closing the inlet valve--time of ignition--how an engine is timed--gnome "monosoupape" valve timing--springless valves--four valves per cylinder - chapter ix constructional details of pistons--aluminum cylinders and pistons --piston ring construction--leak proof piston rings--keeping oil out of combustion chamber--connecting rod forms--connecting rods for vee engines--cam-shaft and crank-shaft designs--ball bearing crank-shafts--engine base construction - chapter x power plant installation--curtiss ox- engine mounting and operating rules--standard s. a. e. engine bed dimensions-- hall-scott engine installation and operation--fuel system rules --ignition system--water system--preparations to start engine-- mounting radial and rotary engines--practical hints to locate engine troubles--all engine troubles summarized--location of engine troubles made easy - chapter xi tools for adjusting and erecting--forms of wrenches--use and care of files--split pin removal and installation--complete chisel set --drilling machines--drills, reamers, taps and dies--measuring tools--micrometer calipers and their use--typical tool outfits --special hall-scott tools--overhauling airplane engines--taking engine down--defects in cylinders--carbon deposits, cause and prevention--use of carbon scrapers--burning out carbon with oxygen --repairing scored cylinders--valve removal and inspection --reseating and truing valves--valve grinding processes-- depreciation in valve operating system--piston troubles--piston ring manipulation--fitting piston rings--wrist-pin wear-- inspection and refitting of engine bearings--scraping brasses to fit--fitting connecting rods--testing for bearing parallelism-- cam-shafts and timing gears--precautions in reassembling parts - chapter xii aviation engine types--division in classes--anzani engines--canton and unné engine--construction of gnome engines--"monosoupape" gnome--german "gnome" type--le rhone engine--renault air-cooled engine--simplex model "a" hispano-suiza--curtiss aviation motors-- thomas-morse model engine--duesenberg engine--aeromarine six-cylinder--wisconsin aviation engines--hall-scott engines-- mercedes motor--benz motor--austro-daimler engine--sunbeam-coatalen --indicating and measuring instruments--air starting systems-- electric starting--battery ignition - index list of illustrations aviation engines design--construction--repair chapter i brief consideration of aircraft types--essential requirements of aerial motors--aviation engines must be light--factors influencing power needed--why explosive motors are best-- historical--main types of internal combustion engines. brief consideration of aircraft types the conquest of the air is one of the most stupendous achievements of the ages. human flight opens the sky to man as a new road, and because it is a road free of all obstructions and leads everywhere, affording the shortest distance to any place, it offers to man the prospect of unlimited freedom. the aircraft promises to span continents like railroads, to bridge seas like ships, to go over mountains and forests like birds, and to quicken and simplify the problems of transportation. while the actual conquest of the air is an accomplishment just being realized in our days, the idea and yearning to conquer the air are old, possibly as old as intellect itself. the myths of different races tell of winged gods and flying men, and show that for ages to fly was the highest conception of the sublime. no other agent is more responsible for sustained flight than the internal combustion motor, and it was only when this form of prime mover had been fully developed that it was possible for man to leave the ground and alight at will, not depending upon the caprices of the winds or lifting power of gases as with the balloon. it is safe to say that the solution of the problem of flight would have been attained many years ago if the proper source of power had been available as all the essential elements of the modern aeroplane and dirigible balloon, other than the power plant, were known to early philosophers and scientists. aeronautics is divided into two fundamentally different branches--aviatics and aerostatics. the first comprises all types of aeroplanes and heavier than air flying machines such as the helicopters, kites, etc.; the second includes dirigible balloons, passive balloons and all craft which rise in the air by utilizing the lifting force of gases. aeroplanes are the only practical form of heavier-than-air machines, as the helicopters (machines intended to be lifted directly into the air by propellers, without the sustaining effect of planes), and ornithopters, or flapping wing types, have not been thoroughly developed, and in fact, there are so many serious mechanical problems to be solved before either of these types of air craft will function properly that experts express grave doubts regarding the practicability of either. aeroplanes are divided into two main types--monoplanes or single surface forms, and bi-planes or machines having two sets of lifting surfaces, one suspended over the other. a third type, the triplane, is not very widely used. dirigible balloons are divided into three classes: the rigid, the semi-rigid, and the non-rigid. the rigid has a frame or skeleton of either wood or metal inside of the bag, to stiffen it; the semi-rigid is reinforced by a wire net and metal attachments; while the non-rigid is just a bag filled with gas. the aeroplane, more than the dirigible and balloon, stands as the emblem of the conquest of the air. two reasons for this are that power flight is a real conquest of the air, a real victory over the battling elements; secondly, because the aeroplane, or any flying machine that may follow, brings air travel within the reach of everybody. in practical development, the dirigible may be the steamship of the air, which will render invaluable services of a certain kind, and the aeroplane will be the automobile of the air, to be used by the multitude, perhaps for as many purposes as the automobile is now being used. essential requirements of aerial motors one of the marked features of aircraft development has been the effect it has had upon the refinement and perfection of the internal combustion motor. without question gasoline-motors intended for aircraft are the nearest to perfection of any other type yet evolved. because of the peculiar demands imposed upon the aeronautical motor it must possess all the features of reliability, economy and efficiency now present with automobile or marine engines and then must have distinctive points of its own. owing to the unstable nature of the medium through which it is operated and the fact that heavier-than-air machines can maintain flight only as long as the power plant is functioning properly, an airship motor must be more reliable than any used on either land or water. while a few pounds of metal more or less makes practically no difference in a marine motor and has very little effect upon the speed or hill-climbing ability of an automobile, an airship motor must be as light as it is possible to make it because every pound counts, whether the motor is to be fitted into an aeroplane or in a dirigible balloon. airship motors, as a rule, must operate constantly at high speeds in order to obtain a maximum power delivery with a minimum piston displacement. in automobiles, or motor boats, motors are not required to run constantly at their maximum speed. most aircraft motors must function for extended periods at speed as nearly the maximum as possible. another thing that militates against the aircraft motor is the more or less unsteady foundation to which it is attached. the necessarily light framework of the aeroplane makes it hard for a motor to perform at maximum efficiency on account of the vibration of its foundation while the craft is in flight. marine and motor car engines, while not placed on foundations as firm as those provided for stationary power plants, are installed on bases of much more stability than the light structure of an aeroplane. the aircraft motor, therefore, must be balanced to a nicety and must run steadily under the most unfavorable conditions. aerial motors must be light the capacity of light motors designed for aerial work per unit of mass is surprising to those not fully conversant with the possibilities that a thorough knowledge of proportions of parts and the use of special metals developed by the automobile industry make possible. activity in the development of light motors has been more pronounced in france than in any other country. some of these motors have been complicated types made light by the skillful proportioning of parts, others are of the refined simpler form modified from current automobile practice. there is a tendency to depart from the freakish or unconventional construction and to adhere more closely to standard forms because it is necessary to have the parts of such size that every quality making for reliability, efficiency and endurance are incorporated in the design. aeroplane motors range from two cylinders to forms having fourteen and sixteen cylinders and the arrangement of these members varies from the conventional vertical tandem and opposed placing to the v form or the more unusual radial motors having either fixed or rotary cylinders. the weight has been reduced so it is possible to obtain a complete power plant of the revolving cylinder air-cooled type that will not weigh more than three pounds per actual horse-power and in some cases less than this. if we give brief consideration to the requirements of the aviator it will be evident that one of the most important is securing maximum power with minimum mass, and it is desirable to conserve all of the good qualities existing in standard automobile motors. these are certainty of operation, good mechanical balance and uniform delivery of power--fundamental conditions which must be attained before a power plant can be considered practical. there are in addition, secondary considerations, none the less desirable, if not absolutely essential. these are minimum consumption of fuel and lubricating oil, which is really a factor of import, for upon the economy depends the capacity and flying radius. as the amount of liquid fuel must be limited the most suitable motor will be that which is powerful and at the same time economical. another important feature is to secure accessibility of components in order to make easy repair or adjustment of parts possible. it is possible to obtain sufficiently light-weight motors without radical departure from established practice. water-cooled power plants have been designed that will weigh but four or five pounds per horse-power and in these forms we have a practical power plant capable of extended operation. factors influencing power needed work is performed whenever an object is moved against a resistance, and the amount of work performed depends not only on the amount of resistance overcome but also upon the amount of time utilized in accomplishing a given task. work is measured in horse-power for convenience. it will take one horse-power to move , pounds one foot in one minute or pounds one foot in one second. the same work would be done if pounds were moved feet in one minute. it requires a definite amount of power to move a vehicle over the ground at a certain speed, so it must take power to overcome resistance of an airplane in the air. disregarding the factor of air density, it will take more power as the speed increases if the weight or resistance remains constant, or more power if the speed remains constant and the resistance increases. the airplane is supported by air reaction under the planes or lifting surfaces and the value of this reaction depends upon the shape of the aerofoil, the amount it is tilted and the speed at which it is drawn through the air. the angle of incidence or degree of wing tilt regulates the power required to a certain degree as this affects the speed of horizontal flight as well as the resistance. resistance may be of two kinds, one that is necessary and the other that it is desirable to reduce to the lowest point possible. there is the wing resistance and the sum of the resistances of the rest of the machine such as fuselage, struts, wires, landing gear, etc. if we assume that a certain airplane offered a total resistance of pounds and we wished to drive it through the air at a speed of sixty miles per hour, we can find the horse-power needed by a very simple computation as follows: the product of pounds resistance times speed of feet per second times seconds in a minute ----------------------------------------------------- = h.p. needed. divided by , foot pounds per minute in one horse-power the result is the horse-power needed, or × × --------------- = h.p. , just as it takes more power to climb a hill than it does to run a car on the level, it takes more power to climb in the air with an airplane than it does to fly on the level. the more rapid the climb, the more power it will take. if the resistance remains pounds and it is necessary to drive the plane at miles per hour, we merely substitute proper values in the above formula and we have pounds times feet per second times seconds in a minute ----------------------------------------------- = h.p. , foot pounds per minute in one horse-power the same results can be obtained by dividing the product of the resistance in pounds times speed in feet per second by , which is the foot-pounds of work done in one second to equal one horse-power. naturally, the amount of propeller thrust measured in pounds necessary to drive an airplane must be greater than the resistance by a substantial margin if the plane is to fly and climb as well. the following formulæ were given in "the aeroplane" of london and can be used to advantage by those desiring to make computations to ascertain power requirements: [illustration: fig. .--diagrams illustrating computations for horse-power required for airplane flight.] the thrust of the propeller depends on the power of the motor, and on the diameter and pitch of the propeller. if the required thrust to a certain machine is known, the calculation for the horse-power of the motor should be an easy matter. the required thrust is the sum of three different "resistances." the first is the "drift" (dynamical head resistance of the aerofoils), i.e., tan [alpha] × lift (_l_), lift being equal to the total weight of machine (_w_) for horizontal flight and [alpha] equal to the angle of incidence. certainly we must take the tan [alpha] at the maximum _k_{y}_ value for minimum speed, as then the drift is the greatest (fig. , a). another method for finding the drift is _d_ = _k_ × _av_^{ }, when we take the drift again so as to be greatest. the second "resistance" is the total head resistance of the machine, at its maximum velocity. and the third is the thrust for climbing. the horse-power for climbing can be found out in two different ways. i first propose to deal with the method, where we find out the actual horse-power wanted for a certain climbing speed to our machine, where climbing speed/sec. × _w_ h.p. = --------------------------- in this case we know already the horse-power for climbing, and we can proceed with our calculation. with the other method we shall find out the "thrust" in pounds or kilograms wanted for climbing and add it to drift and total head resistance, and we shall have the total "thrust" of our machine and we shall denote it with _t_, while thrust for climbing shall be _t_{c}_. the following calculation is at our service to find out _v_{c}_ × _w_ this thrust for climbing --------------- = h.p., h.p. × thence _v_{c}_ = ------------ ( ) _w_ _t_{c}_ × _v_ h.p. = --------------, then from _t_{c}_ × _v_ --------------- × _t_{c}_ × _v_ ( ) _v_{c}_ = ----------------------- = ---------------, thence, _w_ _w_ _v_{c}_ × _w_ t_{c} = ---------------. _v_ whether _t_ means drifts, head resistance and thrust for climbing, or drift and head resistance only, the following calculation is the same, only in the latter case, of course, we must add the horse-power required for climbing to the result to obtain the total horse-power. now, when we know the total thrust, we shall find the horse-power in the following manner: _pr_ [pi]_r_ we know that the h.p. = -------------- in kilograms, or in × _pr_ [pi]_r_ english measure, h.p. = -------------- (fig. , b) , where _p_ = pressure in klgs. or lbs. _r_ = radius on which _p_ is acting. _r_ = revolution/min. _m.r._ [pi] when _p_ × _r_ = _m_, then h.p. = -------------, thence, , h.p. × , . h.p. _m_ = -------------- = ------------ in meter kilograms, _r_ [pi] _r_ h.p. , . h.p. or in english system _m_ = ------------- = ------------- in _r_ [pi] _r_ foot pounds. now the power on the circumference of the propeller will be reduced by its radius, so it will be _m_/_r_ = _p_. a part of _p_ will be used for counteracting the air and bearing friction, so that the total power on the circumference of the propeller will be (_m_/_r_) × [eta] = _p_ where [eta] is the mechanical efficiency of the propeller. now [eta] --------------- = _t_, where [alpha] is taken on the tip of the _tan_ [alpha] propeller. i take [alpha] at the tip, but it can be taken, of course, at any point, but then in equation _p_ = _m_/_r_, _r_ must be taken only up to this point, and not the whole radius; but it is more comfortable to take it at the tip, as pitch _tan_ [alpha] = ---------- (fig. , c). _r_ [pi] now we can write up the equation of the thrust: . h.p. [eta] . h.p. [eta] -------------------, or in english measure ------------------- _r r tan [alpha]_ _r r tan [alpha]_ _t_ × _r_ × _r tan_ [alpha] thence h.p. = -----------------------------, or in english measure . [eta] _t_ × _r_ × _r tan_ [alpha] -----------------------------. . [eta] the computations and formulæ given are of most value to the student engineer rather than matters of general interest, but are given so that a general idea may be secured of how airplane design influences power needed to secure sustained flight. it will be apparent that the resistance of an airplane depends upon numerous considerations of design which require considerable research in aerodynamics to determine accurately. it is obvious that the more resistance there is, the more power needed to fly at a given speed. light monoplanes have been flown with as little as horse-power for short distances, but most planes now built use engines of horse-power or more. giant airplanes have been constructed having , horse-power distributed in four power units. the amount of power provided for an airplane of given design varies widely as many conditions govern this, but it will range from approximately one horse-power to each pounds weight in the case of very light, fast machines to one horse-power to or pounds of the total weight in the case of medium speed machines. the development in airplane and power plant design is so rapid, however, that the figures given can be considered only in the light of general averages rather than being typical of current practice. why explosive motors are best internal combustion engines are best for airplanes and all types of aircraft for the same reasons that they are universally used as a source of power for automobiles. the gasoline engine is the lightest known form of prime mover and a more efficient one than a steam engine, especially in the small powers used for airplane propulsion. it has been stated that by very careful designing a steam plant an engine could be made that would be practical for airplane propulsion, but even with the latest development it is doubtful if steam power can be utilized in aircraft to as good advantage as modern gasoline-engines are. while the steam-engine is considered very much simpler than a gas-motor, the latter is much more easily mastered by the non-technical aviator and certainly requires less attention. a weight of pounds per horse-power is possible in a condensing steam plant but this figure is nearly double or triple what is easily secured with a gas-motor which may weigh but pounds per horse-power in the water cooled forms and but or pounds in the air-cooled types. the fuel consumption is twice as great in a steam-power plant (owing to heat losses) as would be the case in a gasoline engine of equal power and much less weight. the internal-combustion engine has come seemingly like an avalanche of a decade; but it has come to stay, to take its well-deserved position among the powers for aiding labor. its ready adaptation to road, aerial and marine service has made it a wonder of the age in the development of speed not before dreamed of as a possibility; yet in so short a time, its power for speed has taken rank on the common road against the locomotive on the rail with its century's progress. it has made aerial navigation possible and practical, it furnishes power for all marine craft from the light canoe to the transatlantic liner. it operates the machine tools of the mechanic, tills the soil for the farmer and provides healthful recreation for thousands by furnishing an economical means of transport by land and sea. it has been a universal mechanical education for the masses, and in its present forms represents the great refinement and development made possible by the concentration of the world's master minds on the problems incidental to internal combustion engineering. historical although the ideal principle of explosive power was conceived some two hundred years ago, at which time experiments were made with gunpowder as the explosive element, it was not until the last years of the eighteenth century that the idea took a patentable shape, and not until about (brown's gas-vacuum engine) that a further progress was made in england by condensing the products of combustion by a jet of water, thus creating a partial vacuum. brown's was probably the first explosive engine that did real work. it was clumsy and unwieldy and was soon relegated to its place among the failures of previous experiments. no approach to active explosive effect in a cylinder was reached in practice, although many ingenious designs were described, until about and the following years. barnett's engine in england was the first attempt to compress the charge before exploding. from this time on to about many patents were issued in europe and a few in the united states for gas-engines, but the progress was slow, and its practical introduction for power came with spasmodic effect and low efficiency. from on, practical improvement seems to have been made, and the lenoir motor was produced in france and brought to the united states. it failed to meet expectations, and was soon followed by further improvements in the hugon motor in france ( ), followed by beau de rocha's four-cycle idea, which has been slowly developed through a long series of experimental trials by different inventors. in the hands of otto and langdon a further progress was made, and numerous patents were issued in england, france, and germany, and followed up by an increasing interest in the united states, with a few patents. from improvements seem to have advanced at a steady rate, and largely in the valve-gear and precision of governing for variable load. the early idea of the necessity of slow combustion was a great drawback in the advancement of efficiency, and the suggestion of de rocha in did not take root as a prophetic truth until many failures and years of experience had taught the fundamental axiom that rapidity of action in both combustion and expansion was the basis of success in explosive motors. with this truth and the demand for small and safe prime movers, the manufacture of gas-engines increased in europe and america at a more rapid rate, and improvements in perfecting the details of this cheap and efficient prime mover have finally raised it to the dignity of a standard motor and a dangerous rival of the steam-engine for small and intermediate powers, with a prospect of largely increasing its individual units to many hundred, if not to the thousand horse-power in a single cylinder. the unit size in a single cylinder has now reached to about horse-power and by combining cylinders in the same machine, powers of from , to , horse-power are now available for large power-plants. main types of internal-combustion engines this form of prime mover has been built in so many different types, all of which have operated with some degree of success that the diversity in form will not be generally appreciated unless some attempt is made to classify the various designs that have received practical application. obviously the same type of engine is not universally applicable, because each class of work has individual peculiarities which can best be met by an engine designed with the peculiar conditions present in view. the following tabular synopsis will enable the reader to judge the extent of the development of what is now the most popular prime mover for all purposes. a. internal combustion (standard type) . single acting (standard type) . double acting (for large power only) . simple (universal form) . compound (rarely used) . reciprocating piston (standard type) . turbine (revolving rotor, not fully developed) a . two-stroke cycle a. two port b. three port c. combined two and three port d. fourth port accelerator e. differential piston type f. distributor valve system a . four-stroke cycle a. automatic inlet valve b. mechanical inlet valve c. poppet or mushroom valve d. slide valve d . sleeve valve d . reciprocating ring valve d . piston valve e. rotary valves e . disc e . cylinder or barrel e . single cone e . double cone f. two piston (balanced explosion) g. rotary cylinder, fixed crank (aerial) h. fixed cylinder, rotary crank (standard type) a . six-stroke cycle b. external combustion (practically obsolete) a. turbine, revolving rotor b. reciprocating piston classification by cylinder arrangement single cylinder a. vertical b. horizontal c. inverted vertical double cylinder a. vertical b. horizontal (side by side) c. horizontal (opposed) d. to degrees v (angularly disposed) e. horizontal tandem (double acting) three cylinder a. vertical b. horizontal c. rotary (cylinders spaced at degrees) d. radially placed (stationary cylinders) e. one vertical, one each side at an angle f. compound (two high pressure, one low pressure) four cylinder a. vertical b. horizontal (side by side) c. horizontal (two pairs opposed) d. to degrees v e. twin tandem (double acting) five cylinder a. vertical (five throw crankshaft) b. radially spaced at degrees (stationary) c. radially placed above crankshaft (stationary) d. placed around rotary crankcase ( degrees spacing) six cylinder a. vertical b. horizontal (three pairs opposed) c. to degrees v seven cylinder a. equally spaced (rotary) eight cylinder a. vertical b. horizontal (four pairs opposed) c. to degrees v nine cylinder a. equally spaced (rotary) twelve cylinder a. vertical b. horizontal (six pairs opposed) c. to degrees v fourteen cylinder a. rotary sixteen cylinder a. to degrees v b. horizontal (eight pairs opposed) eighteen cylinder a. rotary cylinder [illustration: fig. .--plate showing heavy, slow speed internal combustion engines used only for stationary power in large installations giving weight to horse-power ratio.] [illustration: fig. .--various forms of internal combustion engines showing decrease in weight to horse-power ratio with augmenting speed of rotation.] [illustration: fig. .--internal combustion engine types of extremely fine construction and refined design, showing great power outputs for very small weight, a feature very much desired in airplane power plants.] of all the types enumerated above engines having less than eight cylinders are the most popular in everything but aircraft work. the four-cylinder vertical is without doubt the most widely used of all types owing to the large number employed as automobile power plants. stationary engines in small and medium powers are invariably of the single or double form. three-cylinder engines are seldom used at the present time, except in marine work and in some stationary forms. eight- and twelve-cylinder motors have received but limited application and practically always in automobiles, racing motor boats or in aircraft. the only example of a fourteen-cylinder motor to be used to any extent is incorporated in aeroplane construction. this is also true of the sixteen- and eighteen-cylinder forms and of twenty-four-cylinder engines now in process of development. the duty an engine is designed for determines the weight per horse-power. high powered engines intended for steady service are always of the slow speed type and consequently are of very massive construction. various forms of heavy duty type stationary engines are shown at fig. . some of these engines may weigh as much as pounds per horse-power. a further study is possible by consulting data given on figs. and . as the crank-shaft speed increases and cylinders are multiplied the engines become lighter. while the big stationary power plants may run for years without attention, airplane engines require rebuilding after about to hours air service for the fixed cylinder types and hours or less for the rotary cylinder air-cooled forms. there is evidently a decrease in durability and reliability as the weight is lessened. these illustrations also permit of obtaining a good idea of the variety of forms internal combustion engines are made in. chapter ii operating principles of two- and four-stroke engines--four-cycle action--two-cycle action--comparing two- and four-cycle types-- theory of gas and gasoline engine--early gas-engine forms-- isothermal law--adiabatic law--temperature computations--heat and its work--conversion of heat to power--requisites for best power effect. operating principles of two- and four-stroke cycle engines before discussing the construction of the various forms of internal combustion engines it may be well to describe the operating cycle of the types most generally used. the two-cycle engine is the simplest because there are no valves in connection with the cylinder, as the gas is introduced into that member and expelled from it through ports cored into the cylinder walls. these are covered by the piston at a certain portion of its travel and uncovered at other parts of its stroke. in the four-cycle engine the explosive gas is admitted to the cylinder through a port at the head end closed by a valve, while the exhaust gas is expelled through another port controlled in a similar manner. these valves are operated by mechanism distinct from the piston. [illustration: fig. .--outlining first two strokes of piston in four-cycle engine.] the action of the four-cycle type may be easily understood if one refers to illustrations at figs. and . it is called the "four-stroke engine" because the piston must make four strokes in the cylinder for each explosion or power impulse obtained. the principle of the gas-engine of the internal combustion type is similar to that of a gun, i.e., power is obtained by the rapid combustion of some explosive or other quick burning substance. the bullet is driven out of the gun barrel by the pressure of the gas evolved when the charge of powder is ignited. the piston or movable element of the gas-engine is driven from the closed or head end to the crank end of the cylinder by a similar expansion of gases resulting from combustion. the first operation in firing a gun or securing an explosion in the cylinder of the gas-engine is to fill the combustion space with combustible material. this is done by a down stroke of the piston during which time the inlet valve opens to admit the gaseous charge to the cylinder interior. this operation is shown at fig. , a. the second operation is to compress this gas which is done by an upward stroke of the piston as shown at fig. , b. when the top of the compression stroke is reached, the gas is ignited and the piston is driven down toward the open end of the cylinder, as indicated at fig. , c. the fourth operation or exhaust stroke is performed by the return upward movement of the piston as shown at fig. , d during which time the exhaust valve is opened to permit the burnt gases to leave the cylinder. as soon as the piston reaches the top of its exhaust stroke, the energy stored in the fly-wheel rim during the power stroke causes that member to continue revolving and as the piston again travels on its down stroke the inlet valve opens and admits a charge of fresh gas and the cycle of operations is repeated. [illustration: fig. .--outlining second two strokes of piston in four-cycle engine.] [illustration: fig. .--sectional view of l head gasoline engine cylinder showing piston movements during four-stroke cycle.] the illustrations at fig. show how the various cycle functions take place in an l head type water cooled cylinder engine. the sections at a and c are taken through the inlet valve, those at b and d are taken through the exhaust valve. the two-cycle engine works on a different principle, as while only the combustion chamber end of the piston is employed to do useful work in the four-cycle engine, both upper and lower portions are called upon to perform the functions necessary to two-cycle engine operation. instead of the gas being admitted into the cylinder as is the case with the four-stroke engine, it is first drawn into the engine base where it receives a preliminary compression prior to its transfer to the working end of the cylinder. the views at fig. should indicate clearly the operation of the two-port two-cycle engine. at a the piston is seen reaching the top of its stroke and the gas above the piston is being compressed ready for ignition, while the suction in the engine base causes the automatic valve to open and admits mixture from the carburetor to the crank case. when the piston reaches the top of its stroke, the compressed gas is ignited and the piston is driven down on the power stroke, compressing the gas in the engine base. [illustration: fig. .--showing two-port, two-cycle engine operation.] when the top of the piston uncovers the exhaust port the flaming gas escapes because of its pressure. a downward movement of the piston uncovers the inlet port opposite the exhaust and permits the fresh gas to bypass through the transfer passage from the engine base to the cylinder. the conditions with the intake and exhaust port fully opened are clearly shown at fig. , c. the deflector plate on the top of the piston directs the entering fresh gas to the top of the cylinder and prevents the main portion of the gas stream from flowing out through the open exhaust port. on the next upstroke of the piston the gas in the cylinder is compressed and the inlet valve opened, as shown at a to permit a fresh charge to enter the engine base. [illustration: fig. .--defining three-port, two-cycle engine action.] the operating principle of the three-port, two-cycle engine is practically the same as that previously described with the exception that the gas is admitted to the crank-case through a third port in the cylinder wall, which is uncovered by the piston when that member reaches the end of its upstroke. the action of the three-port form can be readily ascertained by studying the diagrams given at fig. . combination two- and three-port engines have been evolved and other modifications made to improve the action. the two-cycle and four-cycle types in the earlier years of explosive-motor progress was evolved the two types of motors in regard to the cycles of their operation. the early attempts to perfect the two-cycle principle were for many years held in abeyance from the pressure of interests in the four-cycle type, until its simplicity and power possibilities were demonstrated by mr. dugald clerk in england, who gave the principles of the two-cycle motor a broad bearing leading to immediate improvements in design, which has made further progress in the united states, until at the present time it has an equal standard value as a motor-power in some applications as its ancient rival the four-cycle or otto type, as demonstrated by beau de rocha in . thermodynamically, the methods of the two types are equal as far as combustion is concerned, and compression may favor in a small degree the four-cycle type as well as the purity of the charge. the cylinder volume of the two-cycle motor is much smaller per unit of power, and the enveloping cylinder surface is therefore greater per unit of volume. hence more heat is carried off by the jacket water during compression, and the higher compression available from this tends to increase the economy during compression which is lost during expansion. from the above considerations it may be safely stated that a _lower_ temperature and higher pressure of charge at the beginning of compression is obtained in the two-cycle motor, greater weight of charge and greater specific power of higher compression resulting in higher thermal efficiency. the smaller cylinder for the same power of the two-cycle motor gives less friction surface per impulse than of the other type; although the crank-chamber pressure may, in a measure, balance the friction of the four-cycle type. probably the strongest points in favor of the two-cycle type are the lighter fly-wheel and the absence of valves and valve gear, making this type the most simple in construction and the lightest in weight for its developed power. yet, for the larger power units, the four-cycle type will no doubt always maintain the standard for efficiency and durability of action. the distribution of the charge and its degree of mixture with the remains of the previous explosion in the clearance space, has been a matter of discussion for both types of explosive motors, with doubtful results. in fig. , a we illustrate what theory suggests as to the distribution of the fresh charge in a two-cycle motor, and in fig. , b what is the probable distribution of the mixture when the piston starts on its compressive stroke. the arrows show the probable direction of flow of the fresh charge and burnt gases at the crucial moment. [illustration: fig. .--diagrams contrasting action of two- and four-cycle cylinders on exhaust and intake stroke.] in fig. , c is shown the complete out-sweep of the products of combustion for the full extent of the piston stroke of a four-cycle motor, leaving only the volume of the clearance to mix with the new charge and at d the manner by which the new charge sweeps by the ignition device, keeping it cool and avoiding possibilities of pre-ignition by undue heating of the terminals of the sparking device. thus, by enveloping the sparking device with the pure mixture, ignition spreads through the charge with its greatest possible velocity, a most desirable condition in high-speed motors with side-valve chambers and igniters within the valve chamber. theory of the gas and gasoline engine the laws controlling the elements that create a power by their expansion by heat due to combustion, when properly understood, become a matter of computation in regard to their value as an agent for generating power in the various kinds of explosive engines. the method of heating the elements of power in explosive engines greatly widens the limits of temperature as available in other types of heat-engines. it disposes of many of the practical troubles of hot-air, and even of steam-engines, in the simplicity and directness of application of the elements of power. in the explosive engine the difficulty of conveying heat for producing expansive effect by convection is displaced by the generation of the required heat within the expansive element and at the instant of its useful work. the low conductivity of heat to and from air has been the great obstacle in the practical development of the hot-air engine; while, on the contrary, it has become the source of economy and practicability in the development of the internal-combustion engine. the action of air, gas, and the vapors of gasoline and petroleum oil, whether singly or mixed, is affected by changes of temperature practically in nearly the same ratio; but when the elements that produce combustion are interchanged in confined spaces, there is a marked difference of effect. the oxygen of the air, the hydrogen and carbon of a gas, or vapor of gasoline or petroleum oil are the elements that by combustion produce heat to expand the nitrogen of the air and the watery vapor produced by the union of the oxygen in the air and the hydrogen in the gas, as well as also the monoxide and carbonic-acid gas that may be formed by the union of the carbon of gas or vapor with part of the oxygen of the air. the various mixtures as between air and gas, or air and vapor, with the proportion of the products of combustion left in the cylinder from a previous combustion, form the elements to be considered in estimating the amount of pressure that may be obtained by their combustion and expansive force. early gas engine forms the working process of the explosive motor may be divided into three principal types: . motors with charges igniting at constant volume without compression, such as the lenoir, hugon, and other similar types now abandoned as wasteful in fuel and effect. . motors with charges igniting at constant pressure with compression, in which a receiver is charged by a pump and the gases burned while being admitted to the motor cylinder, such as types of the simon and brayton engine. . motors with charges igniting at constant volume with variable compression, such as the later two- and four-cycle motors with compression of the indrawn charge; limited in the two-cycle type and variable in the four-cycle type with the ratios of the clearance space in the cylinder. this principle produces the explosive motor of greatest efficiency. the phenomena of the brilliant light and its accompanying heat at the moment of explosion have been witnessed in the experiments of dugald clerk in england, the illumination lasting throughout the stroke; but in regard to time in a four-cycle engine, the incandescent state exists only one-quarter of the running time. thus the time interval, together with the non-conductibility of the gases, makes the phenomena of a high-temperature combustion within the comparatively cool walls of a cylinder a practical possibility. the isothermal law the natural laws, long since promulgated by boyle, gay lussac, and others, on the subject of the expansion and compression of gases by force and by heat, and their variable pressures and temperatures when confined, are conceded to be practically true and applicable to all gases, whether single, mixed, or combined. the law formulated by boyle only relates to the compression and expansion of gases without a change of temperature, and is stated in these words: _if the temperature of a gas be kept constant, its pressure or elastic force will vary inversely as the volume it occupies._ it is expressed in the formula p × v = c, or pressure × volume = constant. hence, c/p = v and c/v = p. thus the curve formed by increments of pressure during the expansion or compression of a given volume of gas without change of temperature is designated as the isothermal curve in which the volume multiplied by the pressure is a constant value in expansion, and inversely the pressure divided by the volume is a constant value in compressing a gas. but as compression and expansion of gases require force for their accomplishment mechanically, or by the application or abstraction of heat chemically, or by convection, a second condition becomes involved, which was formulated into a law of thermodynamics by gay lussac under the following conditions: a given volume of gas under a free piston expands by heat and contracts by the loss of heat, its volume causing a proportional movement of a free piston equal to / part of the cylinder volume for each degree centigrade difference in temperature, or / part of its volume for each degree fahrenheit. with a fixed piston (constant volume), the pressure is increased or decreased by an increase or decrease of heat in the same proportion of / part of its pressure for each degree centigrade, or / part of its pressure for each degree fahrenheit change in temperature. this is the natural sequence of the law of mechanical equivalent, which is a necessary deduction from the principle that nothing in nature can be lost or wasted, for all the heat that is imparted to or abstracted from a gaseous body must be accounted for, either as heat or its equivalent transformed into some other form of energy. in the case of a piston moving in a cylinder by the expansive force of heat in a gaseous body, all the heat expended in expansion of the gas is turned into work; the balance must be accounted for in absorption by the cylinder or radiation. the adiabatic law this theory is equally applicable to the cooling of gases by abstraction of heat or by cooling due to expansion by the motion of a piston. the denominators of these heat fractions of expansion or contraction represent the absolute zero of cold below the freezing-point of water, and read - ° c. or - . ° = - . ° f. below zero; and these are the starting-points of reference in computing the heat expansion in gas-engines. according to boyle's law, called the first law of gases, there are but two characteristics of a gas and their variations to be considered, _viz_., volume and pressure: while by the law of gay lussac, called the second law of gases, a third is added, consisting of the value of the absolute temperature, counting from absolute zero to the temperatures at which the operations take place. this is the _adiabatic_ law. the ratio of the variation of the three conditions--volume, pressure, and heat--from the absolute zero temperature has a certain rate, in which the volume multiplied by the pressure and the product divided by the absolute temperature equals the ratio of expansion for each degree. if a volume of air is contained in a cylinder having a piston and fitted with an indicator, the piston, if moved to and fro slowly, will alternately compress and expand the air, and the indicator pencil will trace a line or lines upon the card, which lines register the change of pressure and volume occurring in the cylinder. if the piston is perfectly free from leakage, and it be supposed that the temperature of the air is kept quite constant, then the line so traced is called an _isothermal line_, and the pressure at any point when multiplied by the volume is a constant, according to boyle's law, _pv_ = a constant. if, however, the piston is moved very rapidly, the air will not remain at constant temperature, but the temperature will increase because work has been done upon the air, and the heat has no time to escape by conduction. if no heat whatever is lost by any cause, the line will be traced over and over again by the indicator pencil, the cooling by expansion doing work precisely equalling the heating by compression. this is the line of no transmission of heat, therefore known as _adiabatic_. [illustration: fig. .--diagram isothermal and adiabatic lines.] the expansion of a gas / of its volume for every degree centigrade, added to its temperature, is equal to the decimal . , the coefficient of expansion for centigrade units. to any given volume of a gas, its expansion may be computed by multiplying the coefficient by the number of degrees, and by reversing the process the degree of acquired heat may be obtained approximately. these methods are not strictly in conformity with the absolute mathematical formula, because there is a small increase in the increment of expansion of a dry gas, and there is also a slight difference in the increment of expansion due to moisture in the atmosphere and to the vapor of water formed by the union of the hydrogen and oxygen in the combustion chamber of explosive engines. temperature computations the ratio of expansion on the fahrenheit scale is derived from the absolute temperature below the freezing-point of water ( °) to correspond with the centigrade scale; therefore / . = . , the ratio of expansion from ° for each degree rise in temperature on the fahrenheit scale. as an example, if the temperature of any volume of air or gas at constant volume is raised, say from ° to ° f., the increase in temperature will be °. the ratio will be / . = . . then by the formula: ratio × acquired temp. × initial pressure = the gauge pressure; and . × ° × . = . lbs. by another formula, a convenient ratio is obtained by (absolute pressure)/(absolute temp.) or . / . = . ; then, using the difference of temperature as before, . × ° = . lbs. pressure. by another formula, leaving out a small increment due to specific heat at high temperatures: atmospheric pressure × absolute temp. + acquired temp. i. -------------------------------------------------------- = absolute temp. + initial temp. absolute pressure due to the acquired temperature, from which the atmospheric pressure is deducted for the gauge pressure. using the foregoing example, we have ( . × . ° + °)/( . + °) = . - . = . , the gauge pressure, . being the absolute temperature for zero fahrenheit. for obtaining the volume of expansion of a gas from a given increment of heat, we have the approximate formula: volume × absolute temp. + acquired temp. ii. ------------------------------------------ = absolute temp. + initial temp. heated volume. in applying this formula to the foregoing example, the figures become: . ° + ° i. × ----------------- = . volumes. . + ° from this last term the gauge pressure may be obtained as follows: iii. . × . = . lbs. absolute - . lbs. atmospheric pressure = . lbs. gauge pressure; which is the theoretical pressure due to heating air in a confined space, or at constant volume from ° to ° f. by inversion of the heat formula for absolute pressure we have the formula for the acquired heat, derived from combustion at constant volume from atmospheric pressure to gauge pressure plus atmospheric pressure as derived from example i., by which the expression absolute pressure × absolute temp. + initial temp. ---------------------------------------------------- initial absolute pressure = absolute temperature + temperature of combustion, from which the acquired temperature is obtained by subtracting the absolute temperature. then, for example, ( . × . + )/ . = . , and . - . = °, the theoretical heat of combustion. the dropping of terminal decimals makes a small decimal difference in the result in the different formulas. heat and its work by joule's law of the mechanical equivalent of heat, whenever heat is imparted to an elastic body, as air or gas, energy is generated and mechanical work produced by the expansion of the air or gas. when the heat is imparted by combustion within a cylinder containing a movable piston, the mechanical work becomes an amount measurable by the observed pressure and movement of the piston. the heat generated by the explosive elements and the expansion of the non-combining elements of nitrogen and water vapor that may have been injected into the cylinder as moisture in the air, and the water vapor formed by the union of the oxygen of the air with the hydrogen of the gas, all add to the energy of the work from their expansion by the heat of internal combustion. as against this, the absorption of heat by the walls of the cylinder, the piston, and cylinder-head or clearance walls, becomes a modifying condition in the force imparted to the moving piston. it is found that when any explosive mixture of air and gas or hydrocarbon vapor is fired, the pressure falls far short of the pressure computed from the theoretical effect of the heat produced, and from gauging the expansion of the contents of a cylinder. it is now well known that in practice the high efficiency which is promised by theoretical calculation is never realized; but it must always be remembered that the heat of combustion is the real agent, and that the gases and vapors are but the medium for the conversion of inert elements of power into the activity of energy by their chemical union. the theory of combustion has been the leading stimulus to large expectations with inventors and constructors of explosive motors; its entanglement with the modifying elements in practice has delayed the best development in construction, and as yet no really positive design of best form or action seems to have been accomplished, although great progress has been made during the past decade in the development of speed, reliability, economy, and power output of the individual units of this comparatively new power. one of the most serious difficulties in the practical development of pressure, due to the theoretical computations of the pressure value of the full heat, is probably caused by imparting the heat of the fresh charge to the balance of the previous charge that has been cooled by expansion from the maximum pressure to near the atmospheric pressure of the exhaust. the retardation in the velocity of combustion of perfectly mixed elements is now well known from experimental trials with measured quantities; but the principal difficulty in applying these conditions to the practical work of an explosive engine where a necessity for a large clearance space cannot be obviated, is in the inability to obtain a maximum effect from the imperfect mixture and the mingling of the products of the last explosion with the new mixture, which produces a clouded condition that makes the ignition of the mass irregular or chattering, as observed in the expansion lines of indicator cards; but this must not be confounded with the reaction of the spring in the indicator. stratification of the mixture has been claimed as taking place in the clearance chamber of the cylinder; but this is not a satisfactory explanation in view of the vortical effect of the violent injection of the air and gas or vapor mixture. it certainly cannot become a perfect mixture in the time of a stroke of a high-speed motor of the two-cycle class. in a four-cycle engine, making , revolutions per minute, the injection and compression in any one cylinder take place in one twenty-fifth of a second--formerly considered far too short a time for a perfect infusion of the elements of combustion but now very easily taken care of despite the extremely high speed of numerous aviation and automobile power-plants. table i.--explosion at constant volume in a closed chamber. =====+================================+======+=======+========+====== dia- | | temp.| time | ob- | com- gram | | of | of | served |puted curve| mixture injected. |injec-|explo- | gauge |temp. fig. | | tion | sion |pressure|fahr. . | | fahr.|second.| pounds | -----+--------------------------------+------+-------+--------+------ _a_ | volume gas to volumes air. | ° | . | . | , ° _b_ | " " " " " | ° | . | . | , ° _c_ | " " " " " | ° | . | . | , ° _d_ | " " " " " | ° | . | . | , ° _e_ | " " " " " | ° | . | . | , ° _f_ | " " " " " | ° | . | . | , ° _g_ | " " " " " | ° | . | . | , ° _h_ | " " " " " | ° | . | . | , ° _i_ | " " " " " | ° | . | . | , ° -----+--------------------------------+------+-------+--------+------ in an examination of the times of explosion and the corresponding pressures in both tables, it will be seen that a mixture of part gas to parts air is the most effective and will give the highest mean pressure in a gas-engine. there is a limit to the relative proportions of illuminating gas and air mixture that is explosive, somewhat variable, depending upon the proportion of hydrogen in the gas. with ordinary coal-gas, of gas to parts of air; and on the lower end of the scale, volume of gas to parts air, are non-explosive. with gasoline vapor the explosive effect ceases at to , and a saturated mixture of equal volumes of vapor and air will not explode, while the most intense explosive effect is from a mixture of part vapor to parts air. in the use of gasoline and air mixtures from a carburetor, the best effect is from part saturated air to parts free air. table ii.--properties and explosive temperature of a mixture of one part of illuminating gas of thermal units per cubic foot with various proportions of air without mixture of charge with the products of a previous explosion. [a] proportion, air to gas by volumes. [b] pounds in one cubic foot of mixture. [c] specific heat. heat units required to raise lb. deg. fahrenheit. constant pressure. [d] specific heat. heat units required to raise lb. deg. fahrenheit. constant volume. [e] heat to raise one cubic foot of mixture deg. fahr. [f] heat units evolved by combustion. [g] ratio col. / [h] usual combustion efficiency. [i] usual rise of temperature due to explosion at constant volume. =======+========+======+======+========+======+=======+=====+===== [a] | [b] | [c] | [d] | [e] | [f] | [g] | [h] | [i] -------+--------+------+------+--------+------+-------+-----+----- to | . | . | . | . | . | . | . | to | . | . | . | . | . | . | . | to | . | . | . | . | . | . | . | to | . | . | . | . | . | . | . | to | . | . | . | . | . | . | . | to | . | . | . | . | . | . | . | to | . | . | . | . | . | . | . | -------+--------+------+------+--------+------+-------+-----+----- the weight of a cubic foot of gas and air mixture as given in col. is found by adding the number of volumes of air multiplied by its weight, . , to one volume of gas of weight . pound per cubic foot and dividing by the total number of volumes; for example, as in the table, × . = . / = . as in the first line, and so on for any mixture or for other gases of different specific weight per cubic foot. the heat units evolved by combustion of the mixture (col. ) are obtained by dividing the total heat units in a cubic foot of gas by the total proportion of the mixture, / = . as in the first line of the table. col. is obtained by multiplying the weight of a cubic foot of the mixture in col. by the specific heat at a constant volume (col. ), col. /col. = col. the total heat ratio, of which col. gives the usual combustion efficiency--col. × col. gives the absolute rise in temperature of a pure mixture, as given in col. . the many recorded experiments made to solve the discrepancy between the theoretical and the actual heat development and resulting pressures in the cylinder of an explosive motor, to which much discussion has been given as to the possibilities of dissociation and the increased specific heat of the elements of combustion and non-combustion, as well, also, of absorption and radiation of heat, have as yet furnished no satisfactory conclusion as to what really takes place within the cylinder walls. there seems to be very little known about dissociation, and somewhat vague theories have been advanced to explain the phenomenon. the fact is, nevertheless, apparent as shown in the production of water and other producer gases by the use of steam in contact with highly incandescent fuel. it is known that a maximum explosive mixture of pure gases, as hydrogen and oxygen or carbonic oxide and oxygen, suffers a contraction of one-third their volume by combustion to their compounds, steam or carbonic acid. in the explosive mixtures in the cylinder of a motor, however, the combining elements form so small a proportion of the contents of the cylinder that the shrinkage of their volume amounts to no more than per cent. of the cylinder volume. this by no means accounts for the great heat and pressure differences between the theoretical and actual effects. conversion of heat to power the utilization of heat in any heat-engine has long been a theme of inquiry and experiment with scientists and engineers, for the purpose of obtaining the best practical conditions and construction of heat-engines that would represent the highest efficiency or the nearest approach to the theoretical value of heat, as measured by empirical laws that have been derived from experimental researches relating to its ultimate volume. it is well known that the steam-engine returns only from to per cent. of the power due to the heat generated by the fuel, about per cent. of the total heat being lost in the chimney, the only use of which is to create a draught for the fire; the balance, some per cent., is lost in the exhaust and by radiation. the problem of utmost utilization of force in steam has nearly reached its limit. the internal-combustion system of creating power is comparatively new in practice, and is but just settling into definite shape by repeated trials and modification of details, so as to give somewhat reliable data as to what may be expected from the rival of the steam-engine as a prime mover. for small powers, the gas, gasoline, and petroleum-oil engines are forging ahead at a rapid rate, filling the thousand wants of manufacture and business for a power that does not require expensive care, that is perfectly safe at all times, that can be used in any place in the wide world to which its concentrated fuel can be conveyed, and that has eliminated the constant handling of crude fuel and water. requisites for best power effect the utilization of heat in a gas-engine is mainly due to the manner in which the products entering into combustion are distributed in relation to the movement of the piston. the investigation of the foremost exponent of the theory of the explosive motor was prophetic in consideration of the later realization of the best conditions under which these motors can be made to meet the requirements of economy and practicability. as early as , beau de rocha announced, in regard to the coming power, that four requisites were the basis of operation for economy and best effect. . the greatest possible cylinder volume with the least possible cooling surface. . the greatest possible rapidity of expansion. hence, _high speed_. . the greatest possible expansion. _long stroke._ . the greatest possible pressure at the commencement of expansion. _high compression._ chapter iii efficiency of internal combustion engines--various measures of efficiency--temperatures and pressures--factors governing economy--losses in wall cooling--value of indicator cards-- compression in explosive motors--factors limiting compression-- causes of heat losses and inefficiency--heat losses to cooling water. efficiency of internal combustion engines efficiencies are worked out through intricate formulas for a variety of theoretical and unknown conditions of combustion in the cylinder: ratios of clearance and cylinder volume, and the uncertain condition of the products of combustion left from the last impulse and the wall temperature. but they are of but little value, except as a mathematical inquiry as to possibilities. the real commercial efficiency of a gas or gasoline-engine depends upon the volume of gas or liquid at some assigned cost, required per actual brake horse-power per hour, in which an indicator card should show that the mechanical action of the valve gear and ignition was as perfect as practicable, and that the ratio of clearance, space, and cylinder volume gave a satisfactory terminal pressure and compression: _i.e._, the difference between the power figured from the indicator card and the brake power being the friction loss of the engine. in four-cycle motors of the compression type, the efficiencies are greatly advanced by compression, producing a more complete infusion of the mixture of gas or vapor and air, quicker firing, and far greater pressure than is possible with the two-cycle type previously described. in the practical operation of the gas-engine during the past twenty years, the gas-consumption efficiencies per indicated horse-power have gradually risen from per cent. to a maximum of per cent. of the theoretical heat, and this has been done chiefly through a decreased combustion chamber and increased compression--the compression having gradually increased in practice from lbs. per square inch to above ; but there seems to be a limit to compression, as the efficiency ratio decreases with greater increase in compression. it has been shown that an ideal efficiency of per cent. for lbs., compression will increase to per cent. for lbs., and per cent. for lbs. compression. on the other hand, greater compression means greater explosive pressure and greater strain on the engine structure, which will probably retain in future practice the compression between the limits of and lbs. except in super-compression engines intended for high altitude work where compression pressures as high as pounds have been used. in experiments made by dugald clerk, in england, with a combustion chamber equal to . of the space swept by the piston, with a compression of lbs., the consumption of gas was cubic feet per indicated horse-power per hour. with . compression space and lbs. compression, the consumption of gas was cubic feet per indicated horse-power per hour; and with . compression space and lbs. compression, the consumption of gas fell to . cubic feet per indicated horse-power per hour--the actual efficiencies being respectively , , and per cent. this was with a crossley four-cycle engine. various measures of efficiency the efficiencies in regard to power in a heat-engine may be divided into four kinds, as follows: i. the first is known as the _maximum theoretical efficiency_ of a perfect engine (represented by the lines in the indicator diagram). it is expressed by the formula (t_{ } - t_{ })/t_{ } and shows the work of a perfect cycle in an engine working between the received temperature + absolute temperature (t_{ }) and the initial atmospheric temperature + absolute temperature (t_{ }). ii. the second is the _actual heat efficiency_, or the ratio of the heat turned into work to the total heat received by the engine. it expresses the _indicated horse-power_. iii. the third is the ratio between the second or _actual heat efficiency_ and the first or _maximum theoretical efficiency_ of a perfect cycle. it represents the greatest possible utilization of the power of heat in an internal-combustion engine. iv. the fourth is the _mechanical efficiency_. this is the ratio between the actual horse-power delivered by the engine through a dynamometer or measured by a brake (brake horse-power), and the indicated horse-power. the difference between the two is the power lost by engine friction. in regard to the general heat efficiency of the materials of power in explosive engines, we find that with good illuminating gas the practical efficiency varies from to per cent.; kerosene-motors, to ; gasoline-motors, to ; acetylene, to ; alcohol, to per cent. of their heat value. the great variation is no doubt due to imperfect mixtures and variable conditions of the old and new charge in the cylinder; uncertainty as to leakage and the perfection of combustion. in the diesel motors operating under high pressure, up to nearly pounds, an efficiency of per cent. is claimed. [illustration: fig. .--graphic diagram showing approximate utilization of fuel burned in internal-combustion engine.] the graphic diagram at fig. is of special value as it shows clearly how the heat produced by charge combustion is expended in an engine of average design. on general principles the greater difference between the heat of combustion and the heat at exhaust is the relative measure of the heat turned into work, which represents the degree of efficiency without loss during expansion. the mathematical formulas appertaining to the computation of the element of heat and its work in an explosive engine are in a large measure dependent upon assumed values, as the conditions of the heat of combustion are made uncertain by the mixing of the fresh charge with the products of a previous combustion, and by absorption, radiation, and leakage. the computation of the temperature from the observed pressure may be made as before explained, but for compression-engines the needed starting-points for computation are very uncertain, and can only be approximated from the exact measure and value of the elements of combustion in a cylinder charge. temperatures and pressures owing to the decrease from atmospheric pressure in the indrawing charge of the cylinder, caused by valve and frictional obstruction, the compression seldom starts above lbs. absolute, especially in high-speed engines. col. in the following table represents the approximate absolute compression pressure for the clearance percentage and ratio in cols. and , while col. indicates the gauge pressure from the atmospheric line. the temperatures in col. are due to the compression in col. from an assumed temperature of ° f. in the mixture of the fresh charge of air to gas with the products of combustion left in the clearance chamber from the exhaust stroke of a medium-speed motor. this temperature is subject to considerable variation from the difference in the heat-unit power of the gases and vapors used for explosive power, as also of the cylinder-cooling effect. in col. is given the approximate temperatures of explosion for a mixture of air to gas of heat units per cubic foot, for the relative values of the clearance ratio in col. at constant volume. table iii.--gas-engine clearance ratios, approximate compression, temperatures of explosion and explosive pressures with a mixture of gas of heat units per cubic foot and mixture of gas to of air. [a] clearance per cent. of piston volume. [b] ratio (_v_/_v_{c}_) = (_p_ + _c_ vol.)/clearance [c] approximate compression from pounds absolute. [d] approximate gauge pressure. [e] absolute temperature of compression from deg. fahrenheit in cylinder. [f] absolute temperature of explosion. gas, part; air, parts. [g] approximate explosion pressure absolute. [h] approximate gauge pressure. [i] approximate temperature of explosion, fahrenheit. =====+======+======+=====+======+======+=====+=====+===== [a] | [b] | [c] | [d] | [e] | [f] | [g] | [h] | [i] -----+------+------+-----+------+------+-----+-----+----- | | | | | | | | -----+------+------+-----+------+------+-----+-----+----- | | lbs. | | deg. | deg. |lbs. |lbs. | deg. . | . | . | . | . | | | | . | . | . | . | . | | | | . | . | . | . | . | | | | . | . | . | . | . | | | | . | . | . | . | . | | | | . | . | . | . | . | | | | . | . | . | . | . | | | | -----+------+------+-----+------+------+-----+-----+----- factors governing economy in view of the experiments in this direction, it clearly shows that in practical work, to obtain the greatest economy per effective brake horse-power, it is necessary: st. to transform the heat into work with the greatest rapidity mechanically allowable. this means high piston speed. d. to have high initial compression. d. to reduce the duration of contact between the hot gases and the cylinder walls to the smallest amount possible; which means short stroke and quick speed, with a spherical cylinder head. th. to adjust the temperature of the jacket water to obtain the most economical output of actual power. this means water-tanks or water-coils, with air-cooling surfaces suitable and adjustable to the most economical requirement of the engine, which by late trials requires the jacket water to be discharged at about ° f. th. to reduce the wall surface of the clearance space or combustion chamber to the smallest possible area, in proportion to its required volume. this lessens the loss of the heat of combustion by exposure to a large surface, and allows of a higher mean wall temperature to facilitate the heat of compression. losses in wall cooling in an experimental investigation of the efficiency of a gas-engine under variable piston speeds made in france, it was found that the useful effect increases with the velocity of the piston--that is, with the rate of expansion of the burning gases with mixtures of uniform volumes: so that the variations of time of complete combustion at constant pressure, and the variations due to speed, in a way compensate in their efficiencies. the dilute mixture, being slow burning, will have its time and pressure quickened by increasing the speed. careful trials give unmistakable evidence that the useful effect increases with the velocity of the piston--that is, with the rate of expansion of the burning gases. the time necessary for the explosion to become complete and to attain its maximum pressure depends not only on the composition of the mixture, but also upon the rate of expansion. this has been verified in experiments with a high-speed motor, at speeds from to , revolutions per minute, or piston speeds of from to feet per second. the increased speed of combustion due to increased piston speed is a matter of great importance to builders of gas-engines, as well as to the users, as indicating the mechanical direction of improvements to lessen the wearing strain due to high speed and to lighten the vibrating parts with increased strength, in order that the balancing of high-speed engines may be accomplished with the least weight. from many experiments made in europe and in the united states, it has been conclusively proved that excessive cylinder cooling by the water-jacket results in a marked loss of efficiency. in a series of experiments with a simplex engine in france, it was found that a saving of per cent. in gas consumption per brake horse-power was made by raising the temperature of the jacket water from ° to ° f. a still greater saving was made in a trial with an otto engine by raising the temperature of the jacket water from ° to ° f.--it being . per cent. less gas per brake horse-power. it has been stated that volumes of similar cylinders increase as the cube of their diameters, while the surface of their cold walls varies as the square of their diameters; so that for large cylinders the ratio of surface to volume is less than for small ones. this points to greater economy in the larger engines. the study of many experiments goes to prove that combustion takes place gradually in the gas-engine cylinder, and that the rate of increase of pressure or rapidity of firing is controlled by dilution and compression of the mixture, as well as by the rate of expansion or piston speed. the rate of combustion also depends on the size and shape of the explosion chamber, and is increased by the mechanical agitation of the mixture during combustion, and still more by the mode of firing. value of indicator cards [illustration: fig. .--otto four-cycle card.] to the uninitiated, indicator cards are considerable of a mystery; to those capable of reading them they form an index relative to the action of any engine. an indicator card, such as shown at fig. , is merely a graphical representation of the various pressures existing in the cylinder for different positions of the piston. the length is to some scale that represents the stroke of the piston. during the intake stroke, the pressure falls below the atmospheric line. during compression, the curve gradually becomes higher owing to increasing pressure as the volume is reduced. after ignition the pressure line moves upward almost straight, then as the piston goes down on the explosion stroke, the pressure falls gradually to the point of exhaust valve, opening when the sudden release of the imprisoned gas causes a reduction in pressure to nearly atmospheric. an indicator card, or a series of them, will always show by its lines the normal or defective condition of the inlet valve and passages; the actual line of compression; the firing moment; the pressure of explosion; the velocity of combustion; the normal or defective line of expansion, as measured by the adiabatic curve, and the normal or defective operation of the exhaust valve, exhaust passages, and exhaust pipe. in fact, all the cycles of an explosive motor may be made a practical study from a close investigation of the lines of an indicator card. [illustration: fig. .--diesel motor card.] a most unique card is that of the diesel motor (fig. ), which involves a distinct principle in the design and operation of internal-combustion motors, in that instead of taking a mixed charge for instantaneous explosion, its charge primarily is of air and its compression to a pressure at which a temperature is attained above the igniting point of the fuel, then injecting the fuel under a still higher pressure by which spontaneous combustion takes place gradually with increasing volume over the compression for part of the stroke or until the fuel charge is consumed. the motor thus operating between the pressures of and lbs. per square inch, with a clearance of about per cent., has given an efficiency of per cent. of the total heat value of kerosene oil. compression in explosive motors that the compression in a gas, gasoline, or oil-engine has a direct relation to the power obtained, has been long known to experienced builders, having been suggested by m. beau de rocha, in , and afterward brought into practical use in the four-cycle or otto type about . the degree of compression has had a growth from zero, in the early engines, to the highest available due to the varying ignition temperatures of the different gases and vapors used for explosive fuel, in order to avoid premature explosion from the heat of compression. much of the increased power for equal-cylinder capacity is due to compression of the charge from the fact that the most powerful explosion of gases, or of any form of explosive material, takes place when the particles are in the closest contact or cohesion with one another, less energy in this form being consumed by the ingredients themselves to bring about their chemical combination, and consequently more energy is given out in useful or available work. this is best shown by the ignition of gunpowder, which, when ignited in the open air, burns rapidly, but without explosion, an explosion only taking place if the powder be confined or compressed into a small space. [illustration: fig. .--diagram of heat in the gas engine cylinder.] in a gas or gasoline-motor with a small clearance or compression space--with high compression--the surface with which the burning gases come into contact is much smaller in comparison with the compression space in a low-compression motor. another advantage of a high-compression motor is that on account of the smaller clearance of combustion space less cooling water is required than with a low-compression motor, as the temperature, and consequently the pressure, falls more rapidly. the loss of heat through the water-jacket is thus less in the case of a high-compression than in that of a low-compression motor. in the non-compression type of motor the best results were obtained with a charge of to parts of gas and parts of air, while in the compression type the best results are obtained with an explosive mixture of to parts of gas and parts of air, thus showing that by the utilization of compression a weaker charge with a greater thermal efficiency is permissible. it has been found that the explosive pressure resulting from the ignition of the charge of gas or gasoline-vapor and air in the gas-engine cylinder is about - / times the pressure prior to ignition. the difficulty about getting high compression is that if the pressure is too high the charge is likely to ignite prematurely, as compression always results in increased temperature. the cylinder may become too hot, a deposit of carbon, a projecting electrode or plug body in the cylinder may become incandescent and ignite the charge which has been excessively heated by the high compression and mixture of the hot gases of the previous explosion. factors limiting compression with gasoline-vapor and air the compression should not be raised above about to pounds to the square inch, many manufacturers not going above or pounds. for natural gas the compression pressure may easily be raised to from to pounds per square inch. for gases of low calorific value, such as blast-furnace or producer-gas, the compression may be increased to from to pounds. in fact the ability to raise the compression to a high point with these gases is one of the principal reasons for their successful adoption for gas-engine use. in kerosene injection engines the compression of pounds per square inch has been used with marked economy. many troubles in regard to loss of power and increase of fuel have occurred and will no doubt continue, owing to the wear of valves, piston, and cylinder, which produces a loss in compression and explosive pressure and a waste of fuel by leakage. faulty adjustment of valve movement is also a cause of loss of power; which may be from tardy closing of the inlet-valve or a too early opening of the exhaust-valve. the explosive pressure varies to a considerable amount in proportion to the compression pressure by the difference in fuel value and the proportions of air mixtures, so that for good illuminating gas the explosive pressure may be from . to times the compression pressure. for natural gas to . , for gasoline to , for producer-gas to , and for kerosene by injection to . the compression temperatures, although well known and easily computed from a known normal temperature of the explosive mixture, are subject to the effect of the uncertain temperature of the gases of the previous explosion remaining in the cylinder, the temperature of its walls, and the relative volume of the charge, whether full or scant; which are terms too variable to make any computations reliable or available. for the theoretical compression temperatures from a known normal temperature, we append a table of the rise in temperature for the compression pressures in the following table: table iv.--compression temperatures from a normal temperature of degrees fahrenheit. ===============================+============================== lbs. gauge ° | lbs. gauge ° lbs. gauge ° | lbs. gauge ° lbs. gauge ° | lbs. gauge ° lbs. gauge ° | lbs. gauge ° -------------------------------+------------------------------ chart for determining compression pressures a very useful chart (fig. ) for determining compression pressures in gasoline-engine cylinders for various ratios of compression space to total cylinder volume is given by p. s. tice, and described in the chilton automobile directory by the originator as follows: [illustration: fig. .--chart showing relation between compression volume and pressure.] it is many times desirable to have at hand a convenient means for at once determining with accuracy what the compression pressure will be in a gasoline-engine cylinder, the relationship between the volume of the compression space and the total cylinder volume or that swept by the piston being known. the curve at fig. is offered as such a means. it is based on empirical data gathered from upward of two dozen modern automobile engines and represents what may be taken to be the results as found in practice. it is usual for the designer to find compression pressure values, knowing the volumes from the equation p_{ } = p_{ } (v_{ }/v_{ })^{ . } which is for adiabatic compression of air. equation ( ) is right enough in general form but gives results which are entirely too high, as almost all designers know from experience. the trouble lies in the interchange of heat between the compressed gases and the cylinder walls, in the diminution of the exponent ( . in the above) due to the lesser ratio of specific heat of gasoline vapor and in the transfer of heat from the gases which are being compressed to whatever fuel may enter the cylinder in an unvaporized condition. also, there is always some piston leakage, and, if the form of the equation ( ) is to be retained, this also tends to lower the value of the exponent. from experience with many engines, it appears that compression reaches its highest value in the cylinder for but a short range of motor speeds, usually during the mid-range. also, it appears that, at those speeds at which compression shows its highest values, the initial pressure at the start of the compression stroke is from . to . lb. below atmospheric. taking this latter loss value, which shows more often than those of lesser value, the compression is seen to start from an initial pressure of . lbs. per sq. in. absolute. also, experiment shows that if the exponent be given the value . , instead of . , the equation will embrace all heat losses in the compressed gas, and compensate for the changed ratio of specific heats for the mixture and also for all piston leakage, in the average engine with rings in good condition and tight. in the light of the foregoing, and in view of results obtained from its use, the above curve is offered--values of p_{ } being found from the equation p_{ } = . (v_{ }/v_{ })^{ . } in using this curve it must be remembered that pressures are absolute. thus: suppose it is desired to know the volumetric relationships of the cylinder for a compression pressure of lbs. gauge. add atmospheric pressure to the desired gauge pressure . + = . lbs. absolute. locate this pressure on the scale of ordinates and follow horizontally across to the curve and then vertically downward to the scale of abscissas, where the ratio of the combustion chamber volume to the total cylinder volume is given, which latter is equal to the sum of the combustion chamber volume and that of the piston sweep. in the above case it is found that the combustion space for a compression pressure of lbs. gauge will be . of the total cylinder volume, or . ÷ . = . of the piston sweep volume. conversely, knowing the volumetric ratios, compression pressure can be read directly by proceeding from the scale of abscissas vertically to the curve and thence horizontally to the scale of ordinates. causes of heat loss and inefficiency in explosive motors the difference realized in the practical operation of an internal combustion heat engine from the computed effect derived from the values of the explosive elements is probably the most serious difficulty that engineers have encountered in their endeavors to arrive at a rational conclusion as to where the losses were located, and the ways and means of design that would eliminate the causes of loss and raise the efficiency step by step to a reasonable percentage of the total efficiency of a perfect cycle. an authority on the relative condition of the chemical elements under combustion in closed cylinders attributes the variation of temperature shown in the fall of the expansion curve, and the suppression or retarded evolution of heat, entirely to the cooling action of the cylinder walls, and to this nearly all the phenomena hitherto obscure in the cylinder of a gas-engine. others attribute the great difference between the theoretical temperature of combustion and the actual temperature realized in the practical operation of the gas-engine, a loss of more than one-half of the total heat energy of the combustibles, partly to the dissociation of the elements of combustion at extremely high temperatures and their reassociation by expansion in the cylinder, to account for the supposed continued combustion and extra adiabatic curve of the expansion line on the indicator card. [illustration: fig. .--the thompson indicator, an instrument for determining compressions and explosion pressure values and recording them on chart.] the loss of heat to the walls of the cylinder, piston, and clearance space, as regards the proportion of wall surface to the volume, has gradually brought this point to its smallest ratio in the concave piston-head and globular cylinder-head, with the smallest possible space in the inlet and exhaust passage. the wall surface of a cylindrical clearance space or combustion chamber of one-half its unit diameter in length is equal to . square units, its volume but . of a cubic unit; while the same wall surface in a spherical form has a volume of . of a cubic unit. it will be readily seen that the volume is increased - / per cent. in a spherical over a cylindrical form for equal wall surfaces at the moment of explosion, when it is desirable that the greatest amount of heat is generated, and carrying with it the greatest possible pressure from which the expansion takes place by the movement of the piston. [illustration: fig. .--spherical combustion chamber.] [illustration: fig. .--enlarged combustion chamber.] the spherical form cannot continue during the stroke for mechanical reasons; therefore some proportion of piston stroke of cylinder volume must be found to correspond with a spherical form of the combustion chamber to produce the least loss of heat through the walls during the combustion and expansion part of the stroke. this idea is illustrated in figs. and , showing how the relative volumes of cylinder stroke and combustion chamber may be varied to suit the requirements due to the quality of the elements of combustion. although the concave piston-head shows economy in regard to the relation of the clearance volume to the wall area at the moment of explosive combustion, it may be clearly seen that its concavity increases its surface area and its capacity for absorbing heat, for which there is no provision for cooling the piston, save its contact with the walls of the cylinder and the slight air cooling of its back by its reciprocal motion. for this reason the concave piston-head has not been generally adopted and the concave cylinder-head, as shown in fig. , with a flat piston-head is the latest and best practice in airplane engine construction. [illustration: fig. .--mercedes aviation engine cylinder section showing approximately spherical combustion chamber and concave piston top.] the practical application of the principle just outlined to one of the most efficient airplane motors ever designed, the mercedes, is clearly outlined at fig. . heat losses to cooling water the mean temperature of the wall surface of the combustion chamber and cylinder, as indicated by the temperatures of the circulating water, has been found to be an important item in the economy of the gas-engine. dugald clerk, in england, a high authority in practical work with the gas-engine, found that per cent. of the gas for a stated amount of power was saved by using water at a temperature in which the ejected water from the cylinder-jacket was near the boiling-point, and ventures the opinion that a still higher temperature for the circulating water may be used as a source of economy. this could be made practical in the case of aviation engines by adjusting the air-cooling surface of the radiator so as to maintain the inlet water at just below the boiling point, and by the rapid circulation induced by the pump pressure, to return the water from the cylinder-jacket a few degrees above the boiling point. the thermal displacement systems of cooling employed in automobiles are working under more favorable temperature conditions than those engines in which cooling is more energetic. for a given amount of heat taken from the cylinder by the largest volume of circulating water, the difference in temperature between inlet and outlet of the water-jacket should be the least possible, and this condition of the water circulation gives a more even temperature to all parts of the cylinder; while, on the contrary, a cold-water supply, say at ° f., so slow as to allow the ejected water to flow off at a temperature near the boiling-point, must make a great difference in temperature between the bottom and top of the cylinder, with a loss in economy in gas and other fuels, as well as in water, if it is obtained by measurement. from the foregoing considerations of losses and inefficiencies, we find that the practice in motor design and construction has not yet reached the desired perfection in its cycular operation. step by step improvements have been made with many changes in design though many have been without merit as an improvement, farther than to gratify the longings of designers for something different from the other thing, and to establish a special construction of their own. these efforts may in time produce a motor of normal or standard design for each kind of fuel that will give the highest possible efficiency for all conditions of service. chapter iv engine parts and functions--why multiple cylinder engines are best--describing sequence of operations--simple engines--four and six cylinder vertical tandem engines--eight and twelve cylinder v engines--radial cylinder arrangement--rotary cylinder forms. engine parts and functions the principal elements of a gas engine are not difficult to understand and their functions are easily defined. in place of the barrel of the gun one has a smoothly machined cylinder in which a small cylindrical or barrel-shaped element fitting the bore closely may be likened to a bullet or cannon ball. it differs in this important respect, however, as while the shot is discharged from the mouth of the cannon the piston member sliding inside of the main cylinder cannot leave it, as its movements back and forth from the open to the closed end and back again are limited by simple mechanical connection or linkage which comprises crank and connection rod. it is by this means that the reciprocating movement of the piston is transformed into a rotary motion of the crank-shaft. the fly-wheel is a heavy member attached to the crank-shaft of an automobile engine which has energy stored in its rim as the member revolves, and the momentum of this revolving mass tends to equalize the intermittent pushes on the piston head produced by the explosion of the gas in the cylinder. in aviation engines, the weight of the propeller or that of rotating cylinders themselves performs the duty of a fly-wheel, so no separate member is needed. if some explosive is placed in the chamber formed by the piston and closed end of the cylinder and exploded, the piston would be the only part that would yield to the pressure which would produce a downward movement. as this is forced down the crank-shaft is turned by the connecting rod, and as this part is hinged at both ends it is free to oscillate as the crank turns, and thus the piston may slide back and forth while the crank-shaft is rotating or describing a curvilinear path. [illustration: fig. .--side sectional view of typical airplane engine, showing parts and their relation to each other. this engine is an aeromarine design and utilizes a distinctive concentric valve construction.] in addition to the simple elements described it is evident that a gasoline engine must have other parts. the most important of these are the valves, of which there are generally two to each cylinder. one closes the passage connecting to the gas supply and opens during one stroke of the piston in order to let the explosive gas into the combustion chamber. the other member, or exhaust valve, serves as a cover for the opening through which the burned gases can leave the cylinder after their work is done. the spark plug is a simple device which may be compared to the fuse or percussion cap of the cannon. it permits one to produce an electric spark in the cylinder when the piston is at the best point to utilize the pressure which obtains when the compressed gas is fired. the valves are open one at a time, the inlet valve being lifted from its seat while the cylinder is filling and the exhaust valve is opened when the cylinder is being cleared. they are normally kept seated by means of compression springs. in the simple motor shown at fig. , the exhaust valve is operated by means of a pivoted bell crank rocked by a cam which turns at half the speed of the crank-shaft. the inlet valve operates automatically, as will be explained in proper sequence. in order to obtain a perfectly tight combustion chamber, both intake and exhaust valves are closed before the gas is ignited, because all of the pressure produced by the exploding gas is to be directed against the top of the movable piston. when the piston reaches the bottom of its power stroke, the exhaust valve is lifted by means of the bell crank which is rocked because of the point or lift on the cam. the cam-shaft is driven by positive gearing and revolves at half the engine speed. the exhaust valve remains open during the whole of the return stroke of the piston, and as this member moves toward the closed end of the cylinder it forces out burned gases ahead of it, through the passage controlled by the exhaust valve. the cam-shaft is revolved at half the engine speed because the exhaust valve is raised from its seat during only one stroke out of four, or only once every two revolutions. obviously, if the cam was turned at the same speed as the crank-shaft it would remain open once every revolution, whereas the burned gases are expelled from the individual cylinders only once in two turns of the crank-shaft. why multiple cylinder forms are best owing to the vibration which obtains from the heavy explosion in the large single-cylinder engines used for stationary power other forms were evolved in which the cylinder was smaller and power obtained by running the engine faster, but these are suitable only for very low powers. when a single-cylinder engine is employed a very heavy fly-wheel is needed to carry the moving parts through idle strokes necessary to obtain a power impulse. for this reason automobile and aircraft designers must use more than one cylinder, and the tendency is to produce power by frequently occurring light impulses rather than by a smaller number of explosions having greater force. when a single-cylinder motor is employed the construction is heavier than is needed with a multiple-cylinder form. using two or more cylinders conduces to steady power generation and a lessening of vibration. most modern motor cars employ four-cylinder engines because a power impulse may be secured twice every revolution of the crank-shaft, or a total of four power strokes during two revolutions. the parts are so arranged that while the charge of gas in one cylinder is exploding, those which come next in firing order are compressing, discharging the inert gases and drawing in a fresh charge respectively. when the power stroke is completed in one cylinder, the piston in that member in which a charge of gas has just been compressed has reached the top of its stroke and when the gas is exploded the piston is reciprocated and keeps the crank-shaft turning. when a multiple-cylinder engine is used the fly-wheel can be made much lighter than that of the simpler form and eliminated altogether in some designs. in fact, many modern multiple-cylinder engines developing horse-power weigh less than the early single- and double-cylinder forms which developed but one-tenth or one-twentieth that amount of energy. describing sequence of operations referring to fig. , a, the sequence of operation in a single-cylinder motor can be easily understood. assuming that the crank-shaft is turning in the direction of the arrow, it will be seen that the intake stroke comes first, then the compression, which is followed by the power impulse, and lastly the exhaust stroke. if two cylinders are used, it is possible to balance the explosions in such a way that one will occur each revolution. this is true with either one of two forms of four-cycle motors. at b, a two-cylinder vertical engine using a crank-shaft in which the crank-pins are on the same plane is shown. the two pistons move up and down simultaneously. referring to the diagram describing the strokes, and assuming that the outer circle represents the cycle of operations in one cylinder while the inner circle represents the sequence of events in the other cylinder, while cylinder no. is taking in a fresh charge of gas, cylinder no. is exploding. when cylinder no. is compressing, cylinder no. is exhausting. during the time that the charge in cylinder no. is exploded, cylinder no. is being filled with fresh gas. while the exhaust gases are being discharged from cylinder no. , cylinder no. is compressing the gas previously taken. [illustration: fig. .--diagrams illustrating sequence of cycles in one- and two-cylinder engines showing more uniform turning effort on crank-shaft with two-cylinder motors.] the same condition obtains when the crank-pins are arranged at one hundred and eighty degrees and the cylinders are opposed, as shown at c. the reason that the two-cylinder opposed motor is more popular than that having two vertical cylinders is that it is difficult to balance the construction shown at b, so that the vibration will not be excessive. the two-cylinder opposed motor has much less vibration than the other form, and as the explosions occur evenly and the motor is a simple one to construct, it has been very popular in the past on light cars and has received limited application on some early, light airplanes. to demonstrate very clearly the advantages of multiple-cylinder engines the diagrams at fig. have been prepared. at a, a three-cylinder motor, having crank-pins at one hundred and twenty degrees, which means that they are spaced at thirds of the circle, we have a form of construction that gives a more even turning than that possible with a two-cylinder engine. instead of one explosion per revolution of the crank-shaft, one will obtain three explosions in two revolutions. the manner in which the explosion strokes occur and the manner they overlap strokes in the other cylinder is shown at a. assuming that the cylinders fire in the following order, first no. , then no. , and last no. , we will see that while cylinder no. , represented by the outer circle, is on the power stroke, cylinder no. has completed the last two-thirds of its exhaust stroke and has started on its intake stroke. cylinder no. , represented by the middle circle, during this same period has completed its intake stroke and two-thirds of its compression stroke. a study of the diagram will show that there is an appreciable lapse of time between each explosion. three-cylinder engines are not used on aircraft at the present time, though bleriot's flight across the british channel was made with a three-cylinder anzani motor. it was not a conventional form, however. the three-cylinder engine is practically obsolete at this time for any purpose except "penguins" or school machines that are incapable of flight and which are used in some french training schools for aviators. [illustration: fig. .--diagrams demonstrating clearly advantages which obtain when multiple-cylinder motors are used as power plants.] four- and six-cylinder engines in the four-cylinder engine operation which is shown at fig. , b, it will be seen that the power strokes follow each other without loss of time, and one cylinder begins to fire and the piston moves down just as soon as the member ahead of it has completed its power stroke. in a four-cylinder motor, the crank-pins are placed at one hundred and eighty degrees, or on the halves of the crank circle. the crank-pins for cylinders no. and no. are on the same plane, while those for cylinders no. and no. also move in unison. the diagram describing sequence of operations in each cylinder is based on a firing order of one, two, four, three. the outer circle, as in previous instances, represents the cycle of operations in cylinder one. the next one toward the center, cylinder no. , the third circle represents the sequence of events in cylinder no. , while the inner circle outlines the strokes in cylinder four. the various cylinders are working as follows: . . . . explosion compression exhaust intake exhaust explosion intake compression intake exhaust compression explosion compression intake explosion exhaust it will be obvious that regardless of the method of construction, or the number of cylinders employed, exactly the same number of parts must be used in each cylinder assembly and one can conveniently compare any multiple-cylinder power plant as a series of single-cylinder engines joined one behind the other and so coupled that one will deliver power and produce useful energy at the crank-shaft where the other leaves off. the same fundamental laws governing the action of a single cylinder obtain when a number are employed, and the sequence of operation is the same in all members, except that the necessary functions take place at different times. if, for instance, all the cylinders of a four-cylinder motor were fired at the same time, one would obtain the same effect as though a one-piston engine was used, which had a piston displacement equal to that of the four smaller members. as is the case with a single-cylinder engine, the motor would be out of correct mechanical balance because all the connecting rods would be placed on crank-pins that lie in the same plane. a very large fly-wheel would be necessary to carry the piston through the idle strokes, and large balance weights would be fitted to the crank-shaft in an effort to compensate for the weight of the four pistons, and thus reduce vibratory stresses which obtain when parts are not in correct balance. there would be no advantage gained by using four cylinders in this manner, and there would be more loss of heat and more power consumed in friction than in a one-piston motor of the same capacity. this is the reason that when four cylinders are used the arrangement of crank-pins is always as shown at fig. , b--i.e., two pistons are up, while the other two are at the bottom of the stroke. with this construction, we have seen that it is possible to string out the explosions so that there will always be one cylinder applying power to the crank-shaft. the explosions are spaced equally. the parts are in correct mechanical balance because two pistons are on the upstroke while the other two are descending. care is taken to have one set of moving members weigh exactly the same as the other. with a four-cylinder engine one has correct balance and continuous application of energy. this insures a smoother running motor which has greater efficiency than the simpler one-, two-, and three-cylinder forms previously described. eliminating the stresses which would obtain if we had an unbalanced mechanism and irregular power application makes for longer life. obviously a large number of relatively light explosions will produce less wear and strain than would a lesser number of powerful ones. as the parts can be built lighter if the explosions are not heavy, the engine can be operated at higher rotative speeds than when large and cumbersome members are utilized. four-cylinder engines intended for aviation work have been built according to the designs shown at fig. , but these forms are unconventional and seldom if ever used. [illustration: fig. .--showing three possible though unconventional arrangements of four-cylinder engines.] the six-cylinder type of motor, the action of which is shown at fig. , c, is superior to the four-cylinder, inasmuch as the power strokes overlap, and instead of having two explosions each revolution we have three explosions. the conventional crank-shaft arrangement in a six-cylinder engine is just the same as though one used two three-cylinder shafts fastened together, so pistons and are on the same plane as are pistons and . pistons and also travel together. with the cranks arranged as outlined at fig. , c, the firing order is one, five, three, six, two, four. the manner in which the power strokes overlap is clearly shown in the diagram. an interesting comparison is also made in the diagrams at fig. and in the upper corner of fig. , c. [illustration: fig. .--diagrams outlining advantages of multiple cylinder motors, and why they deliver power more evenly than single cylinder types.] a rectangle is divided into four columns; each of these corresponds to one hundred and eighty degrees, or half a revolution. thus the first revolution of the crank-shaft is represented by the first two columns, while the second revolution is represented by the last two. taking the portion of the diagram which shows the power impulse in a one-cylinder engine, we see that during the first revolution there has been no power impulse. during the first half of the second revolution, however, an explosion takes place and a power impulse is obtained. the last portion of the second revolution is devoted to exhausting the burned gases, so that there are three idle strokes and but one power stroke. the effect when two cylinders are employed is shown immediately below. [illustration: fig. .--diagrams showing duration of events for a four-stroke cycle, six-cylinder engine.] here we have one explosion during the first half of the first revolution in one cylinder and another during the first half of the second revolution in the other cylinder. with a four-cylinder engine there is an explosion each half revolution, while in a six-cylinder engine there is one and one-half explosions during each half revolution. when six cylinders are used there is no lapse of time between power impulses, as these overlap and a continuous and smooth-turning movement is imparted to the crank shaft. the diagram shown at fig. , prepared by e. p. pulley, can be studied to advantage in securing an idea of the coordination of effort that takes place in an engine of the six-cylinder type. actual duration of different strokes [illustration: fig. .--diagram showing actual duration of different strokes in degrees.] in the diagrams previously presented the writer has assumed, for the sake of simplicity, that each stroke takes place during half of one revolution of the crank-shaft, which corresponds to a crank-pin travel of one hundred and eighty degrees. the actual duration of these strokes is somewhat different. for example, the inlet stroke is usually a trifle more than a half revolution, and the exhaust is always considerably more. the diagram showing the comparative duration of the strokes is shown at fig. . the inlet valve opens ten degrees after the piston starts to go down and remains open thirty degrees after the piston has reached the bottom of its stroke. this means that the suction stroke corresponds to a crank-pin travel of two hundred degrees, while the compression stroke is measured by a movement of but one hundred and fifty degrees. it is common practice to open the exhaust valve before the piston reaches the end of the power stroke so that the actual duration of the power stroke is about one hundred and forty degrees, while the exhaust stroke corresponds to a crank-pin travel of two hundred and twenty-five degrees. in this diagram, which represents proper time for the valves to open and close, the dimensions in inches given are measured on the fly-wheel and apply only to a certain automobile motor. if the fly-wheel were smaller ten degrees would take up less than the dimensions given, while if the fly-wheel was larger a greater space on its circumference would represent the same crank-pin travel. aviation engines are timed by using a timing disc attached to the crank-shaft as they are not provided with fly-wheels. obviously, the distance measured in inches will depend upon the diameter of the disc, though the number of degrees interval would not change. [illustration: fig. .--another diagram to facilitate understanding sequence of functions in six-cylinder engine.] eight- and twelve-cylinder v engines those who have followed the development of the gasoline engine will recall the arguments that were made when the six-cylinder motor was introduced at a time that the four-cylinder type was considered standard. the arrival of the eight-cylinder has created similar futile discussion of its practicability as this is so clearly established as to be accepted without question. it has been a standard power plant for aeroplanes for many years, early exponents having been the antoinette, the woolsley, the renault, the e. n. v. in europe and the curtiss in the united states. [illustration: fig. .--types of eight-cylinder engines showing the advantage of the v method of cylinder placing.] the reason the v type shown at fig. , a is favored is that the "all-in-line form" which is shown at fig. , b is not practical for aircraft because of its length. compared to the standard four-cylinder engine it is nearly twice as long and it required a much stronger and longer crank-shaft. it will be evident that it could not be located to advantage in the airplane fuselage. these undesirable factors are eliminated in the v type eight-cylinder motor, as it consists of two blocks of four cylinders each, so arranged that one set or block is at an angle of forty-five degrees from the vertical center line of the motor, or at an angle of ninety degrees with the other set. this arrangement of cylinders produces a motor that is no longer than a four-cylinder engine of half the power would be. [illustration: fig. .--curves showing torque of various engine types demonstrate graphically marked advantage of the eight-cylinder type.] apparently there is considerable misconception as to the advantage of the two extra cylinders of the eight as compared with the six-cylinder. it should be borne in mind that the multiplication in the number of cylinders noticed since the early days of automobile development has not been for solely increasing the power of the engine, but to secure a more even turning movement, greater flexibility and to eliminate destructive vibration. the ideal internal combustion motor, is the one having the most uniform turning movement with the least mechanical friction loss. study of the torque outlines or plotted graphics shown at figs. and will show how multiplication of cylinders will produce steady power delivery due to overlapping impulses. the most practical form would be that which more nearly conforms to the steady running produced by a steam turbine or electric motor. the advocates of the eight-cylinder engine bring up the item of uniform torque as one of the most important advantages of the eight-cylinder design. a number of torque diagrams are shown at fig. . while these appear to be deeply technical, they may be very easily followed when their purpose is explained. at the top is shown the torque diagram of a single-cylinder motor of the four-cycle type. the high point in the line represents the period of greatest torque or power generation, and it will be evident that this occurs early in the first revolution of the crank-shaft. below this diagram is shown a similar curve except that it is produced by a four-cylinder engine. inspection will show that the turning-moment is much more uniform than in the single cylinder; similarly, the six-cylinder diagram is an improvement over the four, and the eight-cylinder diagram is an improvement over the six-cylinder. [illustration: fig. .--diagrams showing how increasing number of cylinders makes for more uniform power application.] the reason that practically continuous torque is obtained in an eight-cylinder engine is that one cylinder fires every ninety degrees of crank-shaft rotation, and as each impulse lasts nearly seventy-five per cent. of the stroke, one can easily appreciate that an engine that will give four explosions per revolution of the crank-shaft will run more uniformly than one that gives but three explosions per revolution, as the six-cylinder does, and will be twice as smooth running as a four-cylinder, in which but two explosions occur per revolution of the crank-shaft. the comparison is so clearly shown in graphical diagrams and in fig. that further description is unnecessary. any eight-cylinder engine may be considered a "twin-four," twelve-cylinder engines may be considered "twin sixes." [illustration: fig. .--how the angle between the cylinders of an eight- and twelve-cylinder v motor varies.] the only points in which an eight-cylinder motor differs from a four-cylinder is in the arrangement of the connecting rod, as in many designs it is necessary to have two rods working from the same crank-pin. this difficulty is easily overcome in some designs by staggering the cylinders and having the two connecting rod big ends of conventional form side by side on a common crank-pin. in other designs one rod is a forked form and works on the outside of a rod of the regular pattern. still another method is to have a boss just above the main bearing on one connecting rod to which the lower portion of the connecting rod in the opposite cylinder is hinged. as the eight-cylinder engine may actually be made lighter than the six-cylinder of equal power, it is possible to use smaller reciprocating parts, such as pistons, connecting rods and valve gear, and obtain higher engine speed with practically no vibration. the firing order in nearly every case is the same as in a four-cylinder except that the explosions occur alternately in each set of cylinders. the firing order of an eight-cylinder motor is apt to be confusing to the motorist, especially if one considers that there are eight possible sequences. the majority of engineers favor the alternate firing from side to side. firing orders will be considered in proper sequence. [illustration: fig. .--the hall-scott four-cylinder horse-power aviation motor.] [illustration: fig. .--two views of the duesenberg sixteen valve four-cylinder aviation motor.] the demand of aircraft designers for more power has stimulated designers to work out twelve-cylinder motors. these are high-speed motors incorporating all recent features of design in securing light reciprocating parts, large valve openings, etc. the twelve-cylinder motor incorporates the best features of high-speed motor design and there is no need at this time to discuss further the pros and cons of the twelve-cylinder versus the eight or six, because it is conceded by all that there is the same degree of steady power application in the twelve over the eight as there would be in the eight over the six. the question resolves itself into having a motor of high power that will run with minimum vibration and that produces smooth action. this is well shown by diagrams at fig. . it should be remembered that if an eight-cylinder engine will give four explosions per revolution of the fly-wheel, a twelve-cylinder type will give six explosions per revolution, and instead of the impulses coming degrees crank travel apart, as in the case of the eight-cylinder, these will come but degrees of crank travel apart in the case of the twelve-cylinder. for this reason, the cylinders of a twelve are usually separated by degrees while the eight has the blocks spaced degrees apart. the comparison can be easily made by comparing the sectional views of vee engines at fig. . when one realizes that the actual duration of the power stroke is considerably greater than degrees crank travel, it will be apparent that the overlapping of explosions must deliver a very uniform application of power. vee engines have been devised having the cylinders spaced but degrees apart, but the explosions cannot be timed at equal intervals as when degrees separate the cylinder center lines. [illustration: fig. .--the hall-scott six-cylinder aviation engine.] radial cylinder arrangements [illustration: fig. .--the curtiss eight-cylinder, horse-power aviation engine.] while the fixed cylinder forms of engines, having the cylinders in tandem in the four- and six-cylinder models as shown at figs. to inclusive and the eight-cylinder v types as outlined at figs. and have been generally used and are most in favor at the present time, other forms of motors having unconventional cylinder arrangements have been devised, though most of these are practically obsolete. while many methods of decreasing weight and increasing mechanical efficiency of a motor are known to designers, one of the first to be applied to the construction of aeronautical power plants was an endeavor to group the components, which in themselves were not extremely light, into a form that would be considerably lighter than the conventional design. as an example, we may consider those multiple-cylinder forms in which the cylinders are disposed around a short crank-case, either radiating from a common center as at fig. or of the fan shape shown at fig. . this makes it possible to use a crank-case but slightly larger than that needed for one or two cylinders and it also permits of a corresponding decrease in length of the crank-shaft. the weight of the engine is lessened because of the reduction in crank-shaft and crank-case weight and the elimination of a number of intermediate bearings and their supporting webs which would be necessary with the usual tandem construction. while there are six power impulses to every two revolutions of the crank-shaft, in the six-cylinder engine, they are not evenly spaced as is possible with the conventional arrangement. [illustration: fig. .--the sturtevant eight-cylinder, high speed aviation motor.] [illustration: fig. .--anzani - horse-power five-cylinder air cooled engine.] in the anzani form, which is shown at fig. , the crank-case is stationary and a revolving crank-shaft is employed as in conventional construction. the cylinders are five in number and the engine develops to h.p. with a weight of kilograms or . lbs. the cylinders are of the usual air-cooled form having cooling flanges only part of the way down the cylinder. by using five cylinders it is possible to have the power impulses come regularly, they coming ° crank-shaft travel apart, the crank-shaft making two turns to every five explosions. the balance is good and power output regular. the valves are placed directly in the cylinder head and are operated by a common pushrod. attention is directed to the novel method of installing the carburetor which supplies the mixture to the engine base from which inlet pipes radiate to the various cylinders. this engine is used on french school machines. [illustration: fig. .--unconventional six-cylinder aircraft motor of masson design.] in the form shown at fig. six cylinders are used, all being placed above the crank-shaft center line. this engine is also of the air-cooled form and develops h. p. and weighs kilograms, or lbs. the carburetor is connected to a manifold casting attached to the engine base from which the induction pipes radiate to the various cylinders. the propeller design and size relative to the engine is clearly shown in this view. while flights have been made with both of the engines described, this method of construction is not generally followed and has been almost entirely displaced abroad by the revolving motors or by the more conventional eight-cylinder v engines. both of the engines shown were designed about eight years ago and would be entirely too small and weak for use in modern airplanes intended for active duty. rotary engines [illustration: fig. .--the gnome fourteen-cylinder revolving motor.] rotary engines such as shown at fig. are generally associated with the idea of light construction and it is rather an interesting point that is often overlooked in connection with the application of this idea to flight motors, that the reason why rotary engines are popularly supposed to be lighter than the others is because they form their own fly-wheel, yet on aeroplanes, engines are seldom fitted with a fly-wheel at all. as a matter of fact the gnome engine is not so light because it is a rotary motor, and it is a rotary motor because the design that has been adopted as that most conducive to lightness is also most suited to an engine working in this way. the cylinders could be fixed and crank-shaft revolve without increasing the weight to any extent. there are two prime factors governing the lightness of an engine, one being the initial design, and the other the quality of the materials employed. the consideration of reducing weight by cutting away metal is a subsidiary method that ought not to play a part in standard practice, however useful it may be in special cases. in the gnome rotary engine the lightness is entirely due to the initial design and to the materials employed in manufacture. thus, in the first case, the engine is a radial engine, and has its seven or nine cylinders spaced equally around a crank-chamber that is no wider or rather longer than would be required for any one of the cylinders. this shortening of the crank-chamber not only effects a considerable saving of weight on its own account, but there is a corresponding saving in the shafts and other members, the dimensions of which are governed by the size of the crank-chamber. with regard to materials, nothing but steel is used throughout, and most of the metal is forged chrome nickel steel. the beautifully steady running of the engine is largely due to the fact that there are literally no reciprocating parts in the absolute sense, the apparent reciprocation between the pistons and cylinders being solely a relative reciprocation since both travel in circular paths, that of the pistons, however, being electric by one-half of the stroke length to that of the cylinder. while the gnome engine has many advantages, on the other hand the head resistance offered by a motor of this type is considerable; there is a large waste of lubricating oil due to the centrifugal force which tends to throw the oil away from the cylinders; the gyroscopic effect of the rotary motor is detrimental to the best working of the aeroplane, and moreover it requires about seven per cent. of the total power developed by the motor to drive the revolving cylinders around the shaft. of necessity, the compression of this type of motor is rather low, and an additional disadvantage manifests itself in the fact that there is as yet no satisfactory way of muffling the rotary type of motor. the modern gnome engine has been widely copied in various european countries, but its design was originated in america, the early adams-farwell engine being the pioneer form. it has been made in seven- and nine-cylinder types and forms of double these numbers. the engine illustrated at fig. is a fourteen-cylinder form. the simple engines have an odd number of cylinders in order to secure evenly spaced explosions. in the seven-cylinder, the impulses come . ° apart. in the nine-cylinder form, the power strokes are spaced ° apart. the fourteen-cylinder engine is virtually two seven-cylinder types mounted together, the cranks being just the same as in a double cylinder opposed motor, the explosions coming . ° apart; while in the eighteen-cylinder model the power impulses come every ° cylinder travel. other rotary motors have been devised, such as the le rhone and the clerget in france and several german copies of these various types. the mechanical features of these motors will be fully considered later. chapter v properties of liquid fuels--distillates of crude petroleum-- principles of carburetion outlined--air needed to burn gasoline --what a carburetor should do--liquid fuel storage and supply-- vacuum fuel feed--early vaporizer forms--development of float feed carburetor--maybach's early design--concentric float and jet type--schebler carburetor--claudel carburetor--stewart metering pin type--multiple nozzle vaporizers--two-stage carburetor--master multiple jet type--compound nozzle zenith carburetor--utility of gasoline strainers--intake manifold design and construction--compensating for various atmospheric conditions--how high altitude affects power--the diesel system-- notes on carburetor installation--notes on carburetor adjustment. there is no appliance that has more material value upon the efficiency of the internal combustion motor than the carburetor or vaporizer which supplies the explosive gas to the cylinders. it is only in recent years that engineers have realized the importance of using carburetors that are efficient and that are so strongly and simply made that there will be little liability of derangement. as the power obtained from the gas-engine depends upon the combustion of fuel in the cylinders, it is evident that if the gas supplied does not have the proper proportions of elements to insure rapid combustion the efficiency of the engine will be low. when a gas engine is used as a stationary installation it is possible to use ordinary illuminating or natural gas for fuel, but when this prime mover is applied to automobiles or airplanes it is evident that considerable difficulty would be experienced in carrying enough compressed coal gas to supply the engine for even a very short trip. fortunately, the development of the internal-combustion motor was not delayed by the lack of suitable fuel. engineers were familiar with the properties of certain liquids which gave off vapors that could be mixed with air to form an explosive gas which burned very well in the engine cylinders. a very small quantity of such liquids would suffice for a very satisfactory period of operation. the problem to be solved before these liquids could be applied in a practical manner was to evolve suitable apparatus for vaporizing them without waste. among the liquids that can be combined with air and burned, gasoline is the most volatile and is the fuel utilized by internal-combustion engines. the widely increasing scope of usefulness of the internal-combustion motor has made it imperative that other fuels be applied in some instances because the supply of gasoline may in time become inadequate to supply the demand. in fact, abroad this fuel sells for fifty to two hundred per cent. more than it does in america because most of the gasoline used must be imported from this country or russia. because of this foreign engineers have experimented widely with other substances, such as alcohol, benzol, and kerosene, but more to determine if they can be used to advantage in motor cars than in airplane engines. distillates of crude petroleum crude petroleum is found in small quantities in almost all parts of the world, but a large portion of that produced commercially is derived from american wells. the petroleum obtained in this country yields more of the volatile products than those of foreign production, and for that reason the demand for it is greater. the oil fields of this country are found in pennsylvania, indiana, and ohio, and the crude petroleum is usually in association with natural gas. this mineral oil is an agent from which many compounds and products are derived, and the products will vary from heavy sludges, such as asphalt, to the lighter and more volatile components, some of which will evaporate very easily at ordinary temperatures. the compounds derived from crude petroleum are composed principally of hydrogen and carbon and are termed "hydrocarbons." in the crude product one finds many impurities, such as free carbon, sulphur, and various earthy elements. before the oil can be utilized it must be subjected to a process of purifying which is known as refining, and it is during this process, which is one of destructive distillation, that the various liquids are separated. the oil was formerly broken up into three main groups of products as follows: highly volatile, naphtha, benzine, gasoline, eight to ten per cent. light oils, such as kerosene and light lubricating oils seventy to eighty per cent. heavy oils or residuum five to nine per cent. from the foregoing it will be seen that the available supply of gasoline is determined largely by the demand existing for the light oils forming the larger part of the products derived from crude petroleum. new processes have been recently discovered by which the lighter oils, such as kerosene, are reduced in proportion and that of gasoline increased, though the resulting liquid is neither the high grade, volatile gasoline known in the early days of motoring nor the low grade kerosene. principles of carburetion outlined the process of carburetion is combining the volatile vapors which evaporate from the hydrocarbon liquids with certain proportions of air to form an inflammable gas. the quantities of air needed vary with different liquids and some mixtures burn quicker than do other combinations of air and vapor. combustion is simply burning and it may be rapid, moderate or slow. mixtures of gasoline and air burn quickly, in fact the combustion is so rapid that it is almost instantaneous and we obtain what is commonly termed an "explosion." therefore the explosion of gas in the automobile engine cylinder which produces the power is really a combination of chemical elements which produce heat and an increase in the volume of the gas because of the increase in temperature. if the gasoline mixture is not properly proportioned the rate of burning will vary, and if the mixture is either too rich or too weak the power of the explosion is reduced and the amount of power applied to the piston is decreased proportionately. in determining the proper proportions of gasoline and air, one must take the chemical composition of gasoline into account. the ordinary liquid used for fuel is said to contain about eight-four per cent. carbon and sixteen per cent. hydrogen. air is composed of oxygen and nitrogen and the former has a great affinity, or combining power, with the two constituents of hydrocarbon liquids. therefore, what we call an explosion is merely an indication that oxygen in the air has combined with the carbon and hydrogen of the gasoline. air needed to burn gasoline in figuring the proper volume of air to mix with a given quantity of fuel, one takes into account the fact that one pound of hydrogen requires eight pounds of oxygen to burn it, and one pound of carbon needs two and one-third pounds of oxygen to insure its combustion. air is composed of one part of oxygen to three and one-half portions of nitrogen by weight. therefore for each pound of oxygen one needs to burn hydrogen or carbon four and one-half pounds of air must be allowed. to insure combustion of one pound of gasoline which is composed of hydrogen and carbon we must furnish about ten pounds of air to burn the carbon and about six pounds of air to insure combustion of hydrogen, the other component of gasoline. this means that to burn one pound of gasoline one must provide about sixteen pounds of air. while one does not usually consider air as having much weight, at a temperature of sixty-two degrees fahrenheit about fourteen cubic feet of air will weigh a pound, and to burn a pound of gasoline one would require about two hundred cubic feet of air. this amount will provide for combustion theoretically, but it is common practice to allow twice this amount because the element nitrogen, which is the main constituent of air, is an inert gas and instead of aiding combustion it acts as a deterrent of burning. in order to be explosive, gasoline vapor must be combined with definite quantities of air. mixtures that are rich in gasoline ignite quicker than those which have more air, but these are only suitable when starting or when running slowly, as a rich mixture ignites much quicker than a weak mixture. the richer mixture of gasoline and air not only burns quicker but produces the most heat and the most effective pressure in pounds per square inch of piston top area. the amount of compression of the charge before ignition also has material bearing on the force of the explosion. the higher the degree of compression the greater the force exerted by the rapid combustion of the gas. it may be stated that as a general thing the maximum explosive pressure is somewhat more than four times the compression pressure prior to ignition. a charge compressed to sixty pounds will have a maximum of approximately two hundred and forty pounds; compacted to eighty pounds it will produce a pressure of about three hundred pounds on each square inch of piston area at the beginning of the power stroke. mixtures varying from one part of gasoline vapor to four of air to others having one part of gasoline vapor to thirteen of air can be ignited, but the best results are obtained when the proportions are one to five or one to seven, as this mixture is said to be the one that will produce the highest temperature, the quickest explosion, and the most pressure. what a carburetor should do while it is apparent that the chief function of a carbureting device is to mix hydrocarbon vapors with air to secure mixtures that will burn, there are a number of factors which must be considered before describing the principles of vaporizing devices. almost any device which permits a current of air to pass over or through a volatile liquid will produce a gas which will explode when compressed and ignited in the motor cylinder. modern carburetors are not only called upon to supply certain quantities of gas, but these must deliver a mixture to the cylinders that is accurately proportioned and which will be of proper composition at all engine speeds. [illustration: fig. .--how gravity feed fuel tank may be mounted back of engine and secure short fuel line.] flexible control of the engine is sought by varying the engine speed by regulating the supply of gas to the cylinders. the power plant should run from its lowest to its highest speed without any irregularity in torque, i.e., the acceleration should be gradual rather than spasmodic. as the degree of compression will vary in value with the amount of throttle opening, the conditions necessary to obtain maximum power differ with varying engine speeds. when the throttle is barely opened the engine speed is low and the gas must be richer in fuel than when the throttle is wide open and the engine speed high. when an engine is turning over slowly the compression has low value and the conditions are not so favorable to rapid combustion as when the compression is high. at high engine speeds the gas velocity through the intake piping is higher than at low speeds, and regular engine action is not so apt to be disturbed by condensation of liquid fuel in the manifold due to excessively rich mixture or a superabundance of liquid in the stream of carbureted air. liquid fuel storage and supply the problem of gasoline storage and method of supplying the carburetor is one that is determined solely by design of the airplane. while the object of designers should be to supply the fuel to the carburetor by as simple means as possible the fuel supply system of some airplanes is quite complex. the first point to consider is the location of the gasoline tank. this depends upon the amount of fuel needed and the space available in the fuselage. a very simple and compact fuel supply system is shown at fig. . in this instance the fuel container is placed immediately back of the engine cylinder. the carburetor which is carried as indicated is joined to the tank by a short piece of copper or flexible rubber tubing. this is the simplest possible form of fuel supply system and one used on a number of excellent airplanes. as the sizes of engines increase and the power plant fuel consumption augments it is necessary to use more fuel, and to obtain a satisfactory flying radius without frequent landings for filling the fuel tank it is necessary to supply large containers. when a very powerful power plant is fitted, as on battle planes of high capacity, it is necessary to carry large quantities of gasoline. in order to use a tank of sufficiently large capacity it may be necessary to carry it lower than the carburetor. when installed in this manner it is necessary to force fuel out of the tank by air pressure or to pump it with a vacuum tank because the gasoline tank is lower than the carburetor it supplies and the gasoline cannot flow by gravity as in the simpler systems. while the pressure and gravity feed systems are generally used in airplanes, it may be well to describe the vacuum lift system which has been widely applied to motor cars and which may have some use in connection with airplanes as these machines are developed. stewart vacuum fuel feed one of the marked tendencies has been the adoption of a vacuum fuel feed system to draw the gasoline from tanks placed lower than the carburetor instead of using either exhaust gas or air pressure to achieve this end. the device generally fitted is the stewart vacuum feed tank which is clearly shown in section at fig. . in this system the suction of a motor is employed to draw gasoline from the main fuel tank to the auxiliary tank incorporated in the device and from this tank the liquid flows to the carburetor. it is claimed that all the advantages of the pressure system are obtained with very little more complication than is found on the ordinary gravity feed. the mechanism is all contained in the cylindrical tank shown, which may be mounted either on the front of the dash or on the side of the engine as shown. [illustration: fig. .--the stewart vacuum fuel feed tank.] the tank is divided into two chambers, the upper one being the filling chamber and the lower one the emptying chamber. the former, which is at the top of the device, contains the float valve, as well as the pipes running to the main fuel container and to the intake manifold. the lower chamber is used to supply the carburetor with gasoline and is under atmospheric pressure at all times, so the flow of fuel from it is by means of gravity only. since this chamber is located somewhat above the carburetor, there must always be free flow of fuel. atmospheric pressure is maintained by the pipes a and b, the latter opening into the air. in order that the fuel will be sucked from a main tank to the upper chamber, the suction valve must be opened and the atmospheric valve closed. under these conditions the float is at the bottom and the suction at the intake manifold produces a vacuum in the tank which draws the gasoline from the main tank to the upper chamber. when the upper chamber is filled at the proper height the float rises to the top, this closing the suction valve and opening the atmospheric valve. as the suction is now cut off, the lower chamber is filled by gravity owing to there being atmospheric pressure in both upper and lower chambers. a flap valve is provided between the two chambers to prevent the gasoline in the lower one from being sucked back into the upper one. the atmospheric and suction valves are controlled by the levers c and d, both of which are pivoted at e, their outer ends being connected by two coil springs. it is seen that the arrangement of these two springs is such that the float must be held at the extremity of its movement, and that it cannot assume an intermediate position. this intermittent action is required to insure that the upper part of the tank may be under atmospheric pressure part of the time for the gasoline to flow to the lower chamber. when the level of gasoline drops to a certain point, the float falls, thus opening the suction valve and closing the atmospheric valve. the suction of the motor then causes a flow of fuel from the main container. as soon as the level rises to the proper height the float returns to its upper position. it takes about two seconds for the chamber to become full enough to raise the float, as but . gallon is transferred at a time. the pipe running from the bottom of the lower chamber to the carburetor extends up a ways, so that there is but little chance of dirt or water being carried to the float chamber. if the engine is allowed to stand long enough so that the tank becomes empty, it will be replenished after the motor has been cranked over four or five times with the throttle closed. the installation of the stewart vacuum-gravity system is very simple. the suction pipe is tapped into the manifold at a point as near the cylinders as possible, while the fuel pipe is inserted into the gasoline tank and runs to the bottom of that member. there is a screen at the end of the fuel pipe to prevent any trouble due to deposits of sediment in the main container. as the fuel is sucked from the gasoline tank a small vent must be made in the tank filler cap so that the pressure in the main tank will always be that of the atmosphere. early vaporizer forms the early types of carbureting devices were very crude and cumbersome, and the mixture of gasoline vapor and air was accomplished in three ways. the air stream was passed over the surface of the liquid itself, through loosely placed absorbent material saturated with liquid, or directly through the fuel. the first type is known as the surface carburetor and is now practically obsolete. the second form is called the "wick" carburetor because the air stream was passed over or through saturated wicking. the third form was known as a "bubbling" carburetor. while these primitive forms gave fairly good results with the early slow-speed engines and the high grade, or very volatile, gasoline which was first used for fuel, they would be entirely unsuitable for present forms of engines because they would not carburate the lower grades of gasoline which are used to-day, and would not supply the modern high-speed engines with gas of the proper consistency fast enough even if they did not have to use very volatile gasoline. the form of carburetor used at the present time operates on a different principle. these devices are known as "spraying carburetors." the fuel is reduced to a spray by the suction effect of the entering air stream drawing it through a fine opening. the advantage of this construction is that a more thorough amalgamation of the gasoline and air particles is obtained. with the earlier types previously considered the air would combine with only the more volatile elements, leaving the heavier constituents in the tank. as the fuel became stale it was difficult to vaporize it, and it had to be drained off and fresh fuel provided before the proper mixture would be produced. it will be evident that when the fuel is sprayed into the air stream, all the fuel will be used up and the heavier portions of the gasoline will be taken into the cylinder and vaporized just as well as the more volatile vapors. [illustration: fig. .--marine-type mixing valve, by which gasoline is sprayed into air stream through small opening in air-valve seat.] the simplest form of spray carburetor is that shown at fig. . in this the gasoline opening through which the fuel is sprayed into the entering air stream is closed by the spring-controlled mushroom valve which regulates the main air opening as well. when the engine draws in a charge of air it unseats the valve and at the same time the air flowing around it is saturated with gasoline particles through the gasoline opening. the mixture thus formed goes to the engine through the mixture passage. two methods of varying the fuel proportions are provided. one of these consists of a needle valve to regulate the amount of gasoline, the other is a knurled screw which controls the amount of air by limiting the lift of the jump valve. development of float-feed carburetor the modern form of spraying carburetor is provided with two chambers, one a mixing chamber through which the air stream passes and mixes with a gasoline spray, the other a float chamber in which a constant level of fuel is maintained by simple mechanism. a jet or standpipe is used in the mixing chamber to spray the fuel through and the object of the float is to maintain the fuel level to such a point that it will not overflow the jet when the motor is not drawing in a charge of gas. with the simple forms of generator valve in which the gasoline opening is controlled by the air valve, a leak anywhere in either valve or valve seat will allow the gasoline to flow continuously whether the engine is drawing in a charge or not. the liquid fuel collects around the air opening, and when the engine inspires a charge it is saturated with gasoline globules and is excessively rich. with a float-feed construction, which maintains a constant level of gasoline at the right height in the standpipe, liquid fuel will only be supplied when drawn out of the jet by the suction effect of the entering air stream. maybach's early design the first form of spraying carburetor ever applied successfully was evolved by maybach for use on one of the earliest daimler engines. the general principles of operation of this pioneer float-feed carburetor are shown at fig. , a. the mixing chamber and valve chamber were one and the standpipe or jet protruded into the mixing chamber. it was connected to the float compartment by a pipe. the fuel from the tank entered the top of the float compartment and the opening was closed by a needle valve carried on top of a hollow metal float. when the level of gasoline in the float chamber was lowered the float would fall and the needle valve uncover the opening. this would permit the gasoline from the tank to flow into the float chamber, and as the chamber filled the float would rise until the proper level had been reached, under which conditions the float would shut off the gasoline opening. on every suction stroke of the engine the inlet valve, which was an automatic type, would leave its seat and a stream of air would be drawn through the air opening and around the standpipe or jet. this would cause the gasoline to spray out of the tube and mix with the entering air stream. [illustration: fig. .--tracing evolution of modern spray carburetor. a--early form evolved by maybach. b.--phoenix-daimler modification of maybach's principle. c--modern concentric float automatic compensating carburetor.] the form shown at b was a modification of maybach's simple device and was first used on the phoenix-daimler engines. several improvements are noted in this device. first, the carburetor was made one unit by casting the float and mixing chambers together instead of making them separate and joining them by a pipe, as shown at a. the float construction was improved and the gasoline shut-off valve was operated through leverage instead of being directly fastened to the float. the spray nozzle was surrounded by a choke tube which concentrated the air stream around it and made for more rapid air flow at low engine speeds. a conical piece was placed over the jet to break up the entering spray into a mist and insure more intimate admixture of air and gasoline. the air opening was provided with an air cone which had a shutter controlling the opening so that the amount of air entering could be regulated and thus vary the mixture proportions within certain limits. concentric float and jet type the form shown at b has been further improved, and the type shown at c is representative of modern single jet practice. in this the float chamber and mixing chamber are concentric. a balanced float mechanism which insures steadiness of feed is used, the gasoline jet or standpipe is provided with a needle valve to vary the amount of gasoline supplied the mixture and two air openings are provided. the main air port is at the bottom of the vaporizer, while an auxiliary air inlet is provided at the side of the mixing chamber. there are two methods of controlling the mixture proportions in this form of carburetor. one may regulate the gasoline needle or adjust the auxiliary air valve. schebler carburetor a schebler carburetor, which has been used on some airplane engines, is shown in fig. . it will be noticed that a metering pin or needle valve opens the jet when the air valve opens. the long arm of a leverage is connected to the air valve, while the short arm is connected to the needle, the reduction in leverage being such that the needle valve is made to travel much less than the air valve. for setting the amount of fuel passed or the size of the jet orifice when running with the air valve closed, there is a screw which raises or lowers the fulcrum of the lever and there is also a dash control having the same effect by pushing down the fulcrum against a small spring. a long extension is given to the venturi tube which is very narrow around the jet orifices, which are horizontal and shown at a in the drawing. fuel enters the float chamber through the union m, and the spring p holds the metering pin upward against the restraining action of the lever. the air valve may be set by an easily adjustable knurled screw shown in the drawing, and fluttering of the valve is prevented by the piston dash pot carried in a chamber above the valve into which the valve stem projects. the primary air enters beneath the jet passage and there is a small throttle in the intake to increase the speed of air flow for starting purposes. the carburetor is adapted for the use of a hot-air connection to the stove around the exhaust pipe and it is recommended that such a fitting be supplied. the lever which controls the supply of air through the primary air intake is so arranged that if desired it can be connected with a linkage on the dash or control column by means of a flexible wire. [illustration: fig. .--new model of schebler carburetor with metering valve and extended venturi. note mechanical connection between air valve and fuel regulating needle.] the claudel (french) carburetor [illustration: fig. .--the claudel carburetor.] this carburetor is of extremely simple construction, because it has no supplementary or auxiliary air valve and no moving parts except the throttle controlling the gas flow. the construction is already shown in fig. . the spray jet is eccentric with a surrounding sleeve or tube in which there are two series of small orifices, one at the top and the other near the bottom. the former are about level with the spray jet opening. the sleeve surrounding the nozzle is closed at the top. the air, passing the upper holes in the sleeve, produces a vacuum in the sleeve, thereby drawing air in through the bottom holes. it is this moving interior column of air that controls the flow of gasoline from the nozzle. owing to the friction of the small passages, the speed of air flow through the sleeve does not increase as fast as the speed of air flow outside the sleeve, hence there is a tendency for the mixture to remain constant. the throttle of this carburetor is of the barrel type, and the top of the spray nozzle and its surrounding sleeve are located inside the throttle. stewart metering pin carburetor the carburetor shown at fig. is a metering type in which the vacuum at the jet is controlled by the weight of the metering valve surrounding the upright metering pin. the only moving part is the metering valve, which rises and falls with the changes in vacuum. the air chamber surrounds the metering valve, and there is a mixing chamber above. as the valve is drawn up the gasoline passage is enlarged on account of the predetermined taper on the metering pin, and the air passage also is increased proportionately, giving the correct mixture. a dashpot at the bottom of the valve checks flutter. in idling the valve rests on its seat, practically closing the air and giving the necessary idling mixture. a passage through the valve acts as an aspirating tube. when the valve is closed altogether the primary air passes through ducts in the valve itself, giving the proper amount for idling. the one adjustment consists in raising or lowering the tapered metering pin, increasing or decreasing the supply of gasoline. dash control is supplied. this pulls down the metering pin, increasing the gasoline flow. the duplex type for eight- and twelve-cylinder motors is the same in principle as model , but it is a double carburetor synchronized as to throttle movements, adjustments, etc. the duplex for aeronautical motors is made of cast aluminum alloy. [illustration: fig. .--the stewart metering pin carburetor.] multiple nozzle vaporizers to secure properly proportioned mixtures some carburetor designers have evolved forms in which two or more nozzles are used in a common mixing chamber. the usual construction is to use two, one having a small opening and placed in a small air tube and used only for low speeds, the other being placed in a larger air tube and having a slightly augmented bore so that it is employed on intermediate speeds. at high speeds both jets would be used in series. some multiple jet carburetors could be considered as a series of these instruments, each one being designed for certain conditions of engine action. they would vary from small size just sufficient to run the engine at low speed to others having sufficient capacity to furnish gas for the highest possible engine speed when used in conjunction with the smaller members which have been brought into service progressively as the engine speed has been augmented. the multiple nozzle carburetor differs from that in which a single spray tube is used only in the construction of the mixing chamber, as a common float bowl can be used to supply all spray pipes. it is common practice to bring the jets into action progressively by some form of mechanical connection with the throttle or by automatic valves. the object of any multiple nozzle carburetor is to secure greater flexibility and endeavor to supply mixtures of proper proportions at all speeds of the engine. it should be stated, however, that while devices of this nature lend themselves readily to practical application it is more difficult to adjust them than the simpler forms having but one nozzle. when a number of jets are used the liability of clogging up the carburetor is increased, and if one or more of the nozzles is choked by a particle of dirt or water the resulting mixture trouble is difficult to detect. one of the nozzles may supply enough gasoline to permit the engine to run well at certain speeds and yet not be adequate to supply the proper amount of gas under other conditions. in adjusting a multiple jet carburetor in which the jets are provided with gasoline regulating needles, it is customary to consider each nozzle as a distinct carburetor and to regulate it to secure the best motor action at that throttle position which corresponds to the conditions under which the jet is brought into service. for instance, that supplied the primary mixing chamber should be regulated with the throttle partly closed, while the auxiliary jet should be adjusted with the throttle fully opened. ball and ball two-stage carburetor [illustration: fig. .--the ball and ball two-stage carburetor.] this is a two-stage vaporizing device, hot air being used in the primary or initial stage of vaporization and cold air in the supplementary stage. referring to the sectional illustration at fig. , it will be seen that there is a hot-air passage with a choke-valve; the primary venturi appears at b; j is its gasoline jet, and v is a spring-loaded idling valve in a fixed air opening. these parts constitute the primary system. in the secondary system a is a cold-air passage, t a butterfly valve and j a gasoline jet discharging into the cold-air passage. this system is brought into operation by opening the butterfly t. a connection between the butterfly t and the throttle, not shown, throws the butterfly wide open when the throttle is not quite wide open; at all other times the butterfly is held closed by a spring. the cylindrical chamber at the right of the mixing chamber has an extension e of reduced diameter connecting it with the intake manifold through a passage d. a restricted opening connects the float chamber with the cylindrical chamber so that the gasoline level is the same in both. a loosely fitting plunger p in the cylindrical chamber has an upward extension into the small part of the chamber. o is a small air opening and m is a passage from the cylindrical chamber to the mixing chamber. air constantly passes through this when the carburetor is in operation. the carburetor is really two in one. the primary carburetor is made up of a central jet in a venturi passage. the float chamber is eccentric. in the air passage there is a fixed opening, and additional air is taken in by the opening through suction of a spring-opposed air valve. the second stage, which comes into play as soon as the carburetor is called upon for additional mixture above low medium speeds, is made up of an independent air passage containing another air valve. as the valve is opened this jet is uncovered, and air is led past it. for easy starting an extra passage leads from the float bowl passage to a point above the throttle. all the suction falls upon this passage when the throttle is closed. the passage contains a plunger and acts as a pick-up device. when the vacuum increases the plunger rises and shuts off the flow of gasoline from the intake passage. as the throttle is opened the vacuum in the intake passage is broken, and the plunger falls, causing gasoline to gather above it. this is immediately drawn through the pick-up passage and gives the desired mixture for acceleration. master multiple-jet carburetor [illustration: fig. .--the master carburetor.] this carburetor, shown in detail in figs. and , has been very popular in racing cars and aviation engines because of exceptionally good pick-up qualities and its thorough atomization of fuel. its principle of operation is the breaking up of the fuel by a series of jets, which vary in number from fourteen to twenty-one, according to the size of the carburetor. these are uncovered by opening the throttle, which is curved--a patented feature--to secure the correct progression of jets. the carburetor has an eccentric float chamber, from which the gasoline is led to the jet piece from which the jets stand up in a row. the tops of these jets are closed until the throttle is opened far enough to pass them, which it does progressively. the air opening is at the bottom, and the throttle opening is such that a modified venturi is formed. the throttle is carried in a cylindrical barrel with the jets placed below it, and the passage from the barrel to the intake is arranged so that there is no interruption in the flow. for easy starting a dash-controlled shutter closes off the air, throwing the suction on the jets, thus giving a rich mixture. [illustration: fig. .--sectional view of master carburetor showing parts.] the only adjustment is for idling, and once that is fixed it need never be touched. this is in the form of a screw and regulates the position of the throttle when at idling position. the dash control has high-speed, normal and rich-starting positions. in installing the master carburetor the float chamber may be turned either toward the radiator or driver's seat. if the float is turned toward the radiator, however, a forward lug plate should be ordered; otherwise it will be difficult to install the control. the throttle lever must go all the way to the stop lug or maximum power will not be secured. in adjusting the idle screw it is turned in for rich and out for lean. compound nozzle zenith carburetor [illustration: fig. .--sectional view of zenith compound nozzle compensating carburetor.] the zenith carburetor, shown at fig. , has become very popular for airplane engine use because of its simplicity, as mixture compensation is secured by a compensating compound nozzle principle that works very well in practice. to illustrate this principle briefly, let us consider the elementary type of carburetor or mixing valve, as shown in fig. , a. it consists of a single jet or spraying nozzle placed in the path of the incoming air and fed from the usual float chamber. it is a natural inference to suppose that as the speed of the motor increases, both the flow of air and of gasoline will increase in the same proportion. unhappily, such is not the case. there is a law of liquid bodies which states that the flow of gasoline from the jet increases under suction faster than the flow of air, giving a mixture which grows richer and richer--a mixture containing a much higher percentage of gasoline at high suction than at low. the tendency is shown by the accompanying curve (fig. , b), which gives the ratio of gasoline to air at varying speeds from this type of jet. the mixture is practically constant only between narrow limits and at very high speed. the most common method of correcting this defect is by putting various auxiliary air valves which, adding air, tends to dilute this mixture as it gets too rich. it is difficult with makeshift devices to gauge this dilution accurately for every motor speed. [illustration: fig. .--diagrams explaining action of baverey compound nozzle used in zenith carburetor.] now, if we have a jet which grows richer as the suction increases, the opposite type of jet is one which would grow leaner under similar conditions. baverey, the inventor of the zenith, discovered the principle of the constant flow device which is shown in fig. , c. here a certain fixed amount of gasoline determined by the opening i is permitted to flow by gravity into the well j open to the air. the suction at jet h has no effect upon the gravity compensator i because the suction is destroyed by the open well j. the compensator, then, delivers a steady rate of flow per unit of time, and as the motor suction increases more air is drawn up, while the amount of gasoline remains the same and the mixture grows poorer and poorer. fig. , d, shows this curve. by combining these two types of rich and poor mixture carburetors the zenith compound nozzle was evolved. in fig. , e, we have both the direct suction or richer type leading through pipe e and nozzle g and the "constant flow" device of baverey shown at j, i, k and nozzle h. one counteracts the defects of the other, so that from the cranking of the motor to its highest speed there is a constant ratio of air and gasoline to supply efficient combustion. in addition to the compound nozzle the zenith is equipped with a starting and idling well, shown in the cut of model l carburetor at p and j. this terminates in a priming hole at the edge of the butterfly valve, where the suction is greatest when this valve is slightly open. the gasoline is drawn up by the suction at the priming hole and, mixed with the air rushing by the butterfly, gives an ideal slow speed mixture. at higher speeds with the butterfly valve opened further the priming well ceases to operate and the compound nozzle drains the well and compensates correctly for any motor speed. [illustration: fig. .--the zenith duplex carburetor for airplane motors of the v type.] with the coming of the double motor containing eight or twelve cylinders arranged in two v blocks, the question of good carburetion has been a problem requiring much study. the single carburetor has given only indifferent results due to the strong cross suction in the inlet manifold from one set of cylinders to the other. this naturally led to the adoption of two carburetors in which each set of cylinders was independently fed by a separate carburetor. results from this system were very good when the two carburetors were working exactly in unison, but as it was extremely difficult to accomplish this co-operation, especially where the adjustable type was employed, this system never gained in favor. the next logical step was the zenith duplex, shown at fig. . this consists of two separate and distinct carburetors joined together so that a common gasoline float chamber and air inlet could be used by both. it does away with cross suction in the manifold because each set of cylinders has a separate intake of its own. it does away with two carburetors and makes for simplicity. the practical application of the zenith carburetor to the curtiss horse-power ox- motor used on the jn- standard training machine is shown at fig. , which outlines a rear view of the engine in question. the carburetor is carried low to permit of fuel supply from a gravity tank carried back of the motor. [illustration: fig. .--rear view of curtiss ox- horse-power airplane motor showing carburetor location and hot air leads.] utility of gasoline strainers many carburetors include a filtering screen at the point where the liquid enters the float chamber in order to keep dirt or any other foreign matter which may be present in the fuel from entering the float chamber. this is not general practice, however, and the majority of vaporizers do not include a filter in their construction. it is very desirable that the dirt should be kept out of the carburetor because it may get under the float control fuel valve and cause flooding by keeping it raised from its seat. if it finds its way into the spray nozzle it may block the opening so that no gasoline will issue or may so constrict the passage that only very small quantities of fuel will be supplied the mixture. where the carburetor itself is not provided with a filtering screen a simple filter is usually installed in the pipe line between the gasoline tank and the float chamber. some simple forms of filters and separators are shown at fig. . that at a consists of a simple brass casting having a readily detachable gauze screen and a settling chamber of sufficient capacity to allow the foreign matter to settle to the bottom, from which it is drained out by a pet cock. any water or dirt in the gasoline will settle to the bottom of the chamber, and as all fuel delivered to the carburetor must pass through the wire gauze screen it is not likely to contain impurities when it reaches the float chamber. the heavier particles, such as scale from the tank or dirt and even water, all of which have greater weight than the gasoline, will sink to the bottom of the chamber, whereas light particles, such as lint, will be prevented from flowing into the carburetor by the filtering screen. [illustration: fig. .--types of strainers interposed between vaporizer and gasoline tank to prevent water or dirt passing into carbureting device.] the filtering device shown at b is a larger appliance than that shown at a, and should be more efficient as a separator because the gasoline is forced to pass through three filtering screens before it reaches the carburetor. the gasoline enters the device shown at c through a bent pipe which leads directly to the settling chamber and from thence through a wire gauze screen to the upper compartment which leads to the carburetor. the device shown at d is a combination strainer, drain, and sediment cup. the filtering screen is held in place by a spring and both are removed by taking out a plug at the bottom of the device. the shut-off valve at the top of the device is interposed between the sediment cup and the carburetor. this separating device is incorporated with the gasoline tank and forms an integral part of the gasoline supply system. the other types shown are designed to be interposed between the gasoline tank and the carburetor at any point in the pipe line where they may be conveniently placed. intake manifold design and construction on four- and six-cylinder engines and in fact on all multiple-cylinder forms, it is important that the piping leading from the carburetor to the cylinders be made in such a way that the various cylinders will receive their full quota of gas and that each cylinder will receive its charge at about the same point in the cycle of operations. in order to make the passages direct the bends should be as few as possible, and when curves are necessary they should be of large radius because an abrupt corner will not only impede gas flow but will tend to promote condensation of the fuel. every precaution should be taken with four- and six-cylinder engines to insure equitable gas distribution to the valve chambers if regular action of the power plant is desired. if the gas pipe has many turns and angles it will be difficult to charge all cylinders properly. on some six-cylinder aviation engines, two carburetors are used because of trouble experienced with manifolds designed for one carburetor. duplex carburetors are necessary to secure the best results from eight- and twelve-cylinder v engines. the problem of intake piping is simplified to some extent on block motors where the intake passage is cored in the cylinder casting and where but one short pipe is needed to join this passage to the carburetor. if the cylinders are cast in pairs a simple pipe of t or y form can be used with success. when the engine is of a type using individual cylinder castings, especially in the six-cylinder power plants, the proper application and installation of suitable piping is a difficult problem. the reader is referred to the various engine designs outlined to ascertain how the inlet piping has been arranged on representative aviation engines. intake piping is constructed in two ways, the most common method being to cast the manifold of brass or aluminum. the other method, which is more costly, is to use a built-up construction of copper or brass tubing with cast metal elbows and y pieces. one of the disadvantages advanced against the cast manifold is that blowholes may exist which produce imperfect castings and which will cause mixture troubles because the entering gas from the carburetor, which may be of proper proportions, is diluted by the excess air which leaks in through the porous casting. another factor of some moment is that the roughness of the walls has a certain amount of friction which tends to reduce the velocity of the gases, and when projecting pieces are present, such as core wire or other points of metal, these tend to collect the drops of liquid fuel and thus promote condensation. the advantage of the built-up construction is that the walls of the tubing are very smooth, and as the castings are small it is not difficult to clean them out thoroughly before they are incorporated in the manifold. the tubing and castings are joined together by hard soldering, brazing or autogenous welding. compensating for varying atmospheric conditions the low-grade gasoline used at the present time makes it necessary to use vaporizers that are more susceptible to atmospheric variations than when higher grade and more volatile liquids are vaporized. sudden temperature changes, sometimes being as much as forty degrees rise or fall in twelve hours, affect the mixture proportions to some extent, and not only changes in temperature but variations in altitude also have a bearing on mixture proportions by affecting both gasoline and air. as the temperature falls the specific gravity of the gasoline increases and it becomes heavier, this producing difficulty in vaporizing. the tendency of very cold air is to condense gasoline instead of vaporizing it and therefore it is necessary to supply heated air to some carburetors to obtain proper mixtures during cold weather. in order that the gas mixtures will ignite properly the fuel must be vaporized and thoroughly mixed with the entering air either by heat or high velocity of the gases. the application of air stoves to the curtiss ox- motor is clearly shown at fig. . it will be seen that flexible metal pipes are used to convey the heated air to the air intakes of the duplex mixing chamber. [illustration: fig. .--chart showing diminution of air pressure as altitude increases.] how high altitude affects power any internal combustion engine will show less power at high altitudes than it will deliver at sea level, and this has caused a great deal of questioning. "there is a good reason for this," says a writer in "motor age," "and it is a physical impossibility for the engine to do otherwise. the difference is due to the lower atmospheric pressure the higher up we get. that is, at sea level the atmosphere has a pressure of . pounds per square inch; at , feet above sea level the pressure is approximately . pounds per square inch, and at , feet it is pounds per square inch. from this it will be seen that the final pressure attained after the piston has driven the gas into compressed condition ready for firing is lower as the atmospheric pressure drops. this means that there is not so much power in the compressed charge of gas the higher up you get above sea level. "for example, suppose the compression ratio to be - / to ; in other words, suppose the air space above the piston to have - / times the volume when the piston is at the bottom of its stroke that it has when the piston is at the top of the stroke. that is a common compression ratio for an average motor, and is chosen because it is considered to be the best for maximum horse-power and in order that the compression pressure will not be so high as to cause pre-ignition. knowing the compression ratio, we can determine the final pressure immediately before ignition by substituting in the standard formula: p^{ } = p(v/v^{ })^{ . } in which p is the atmospheric pressure; p^{ } is the final pressure, and v/v^{ } is the compression ratio, therefore p^{ } = . ( . )^{ . } = pounds per square inch, absolute. "that is, pounds per square inch is the most efficient final compression pressure to have for this engine at sea level, since it comes directly from the compression ratio. "now supposing we consider that the altitude is , feet above sea level. at this height the atmospheric pressure is . pounds per square inch, approximately. in this case we can again substitute in the formula, using the new atmospheric pressure figure. the equation becomes: p^{ } = . ( . )^{ . }-- . pounds per square inch, absolute. "therefore we now have a final compression pressure of only . pounds per square inch, which is considerably below the pressure we have just found to be the most efficient for the motor. the resulting power drop is evident. "it should be borne in mind that these final compression pressures are absolute pressures--that is, they include the atmospheric pressure. in the first case, to get the pressure above atmospheric you would subtract . and in the latter . would have to be deducted. in other words, where the sea level compression is . pounds per square inch above the atmosphere, the same motor will have only a compression pressure of . pounds per square inch above the atmosphere at , feet elevation. "from the above it is evident that in order to bring the final compression pressure up to the efficient figure we have determined, a different compression ratio would have to be used. that is, the final volume would have to be less, and as it is impossible to vary this to meet the conditions of altitude, the loss of power cannot be helped except by the replacing of the standard pistons with some that are longer above the wrist-pin so as to reduce the space above the pistons when on top center. then if the ratio is thereby raised to some such figures as to , the engine will again have its proper final pressure, but it will still not have as much power as it would have at sea level, since the horse-power varies directly with the atmospheric pressure, final compression being kept constant. that is, at , feet the horse-power of an engine that had horse-power at sea level would be equal to . ------- = . horse-power. . "if the original compression ratio of . were retained, the drop in horse-power would be even greater than this. these computations and remarks will make it clear that the designer who contemplates building an airplane for high altitude use should see to it that it is of sufficient power to compensate for the drop that is inevitable when it is up in the air. this is often illustrated in stationary gas-engine installations. an engine that had a sea-level rating amply sufficient for the work required, might not be powerful enough when brought up several thousand feet." when one considers that airplanes attain heights of over , feet, it will be evident that an ample margin of engine power is necessary. the diesel system a system of fuel supply developed by the late dr. diesel, a german chemist and engineer, is attracting considerable attention at the present time on account of the ability of the diesel engine to burn low-grade fuels, such as crude petroleum. in this system the engines are built so that very high compressions are used, and only pure air is taken into the cylinder on the induction stroke. this is compressed to a pressure of about pounds per square inch, and sufficient heat is produced by this compression to explode a hydrocarbon mixture. as the air which is compressed to this high point cannot burn, the fuel is introduced into the cylinder combustion chamber under still higher compression than that of the compressed air, and as it is injected in a fine stream it is immediately vaporized because of the heat. just as soon as the compressed air becomes thoroughly saturated with the liquid fuel, it will explode on account of the degree of heat present in the combustion chamber. such motors have been used in marine and stationary applications, but are not practical for airplanes or motor cars because of lack of flexibility and great weight in proportion to power developed. the diesel engine is the standard power plant used in submarine boats and motor ships, as its efficiency renders it particularly well adapted for large units. notes on carburetor installation in airplanes a writer in "the aeroplane," an english publication, discourses on some features of carburetor installation that may be of interest to the aviation student, so portions of the dissertation are reproduced herewith. "users of airplanes fitted with ordinary type carburetors will do well to note carefully the way in which these are fitted, for several costly machines have been burnt lately through the sheer carelessness of their users. these particular machines were fitted with a high powered v-type engine, made by a firm which is famous as manufacturers of automobiles _de luxe_. in these engines there are four carburetors, mounted in the v between the cylinders. when the engine is fitted as a tractor, the float chambers are in front of the jet chambers. consequently, when the tail of the machine is resting on the ground, the jets are lower than the level of the gasoline in the float chamber. "quite naturally, the gasoline runs out of the jet, if it is left turned on when the machine is standing in its normal position, and trickles into the v at the top of the crank-case. thence it runs down to the tail of the engine, where the magnetos are fitted, and saturates them. if left long enough, the gasoline manages to soak well into the fuselage before evaporating. and what does evaporate makes an inflammable gas in the forward cockpit. then some one comes along and starts up the engine. the spark-gap of the magneto gives one flash, and the whole front of the machine proceeds to give a fourth of july performance forthwith. naturally, one safeguard is to turn the petrol off directly the machine lands. another is never to turn it on till the engine is actually being started up. "one would be asking too much of the human boy--who is officially regarded as the only person fit to fly an aeroplane--if one depended upon his memory of such a detail to save his machine, though one might perhaps reasonably expect the older pilots to remember not to forget. even so, other means of prevention are preferable, for fire is quite as likely to occur from just the same cause if the engine happens to be a trifle obstinate in starting, and so gives the carburetors several minutes in which to drip--in which operation they would probably be assisted by air-mechanics 'tickling' them. "one way out of the trouble is to fit drip tins under the jet chamber to catch the gasoline as it falls. this is all very well just to prevent fire while the machine is being started up, but it will not save it if it is left standing with the tail on the ground and the petrol turned on, for the drip tins will then fill up and run over. and if it catches then, the contents of the drip tins merely add fuel to the fire. _reversing carburetors_ "yet another way is to turn the carburetors round, so that the float chambers are behind the jets, and so come below them when the tail is on the ground, thus cutting off the gasoline low down in the jets. there seems to be no particular mechanical difficulty about this, though i must confess that i did not note very carefully whether the reversal of the float chambers would make them foul any other fittings on the engine. it has been argued, however, that doing this would starve the engine of gasoline when climbing at a steep angle, as the gasoline would then be lowered in the jets and need more suction to get into the cylinders. this is rather a pretty point of amateur motor mechanics to discuss, for, obviously, when the same engine is used as a 'pusher' instead of a tractor, the jets are in front of the floats, and there seems to be no falling off in power. _starvation of mixture_ "moreover, the higher a machine goes the lower is the atmospheric pressure, and, consequently, the less is the amount of air sucked in at each induction stroke. this means, of course, that with the gasoline supply the mixture at high altitudes is too rich, so that, in order to get precisely the right mixture when very high up, it is necessary to reduce the gasoline supply by screwing down the needle valve between the tank and the carburetor--at least, that has been the experience of various high-flying pilots. no doubt something might be done in the way of forced air feed to compensate for reduced atmospheric pressure, but it remains to be proved whether the extra weight of mechanism involved would pay for the extra power obtained. variable compression might do something, also, to even things up, but here, also, weight of mechanism has to be considered. "in any case, at present, the higher one goes the more the power of the engine is reduced, for less air means a less volume of mixture per cylinder, and as the petrol feed has to be starved to suit the smaller amount of air available, this means further loss of power. i do not know whether anyone has evolved a carburetor which automatically starves the gasoline feed when high up, but it seems possible that when an airplane is sagging about 'up against the ceiling'--as a french pilot described the absolute limit of climb for his particular machine--it might be a good thing to have the jets in front of the float chamber, for then a certain amount of automatic starvation would take place. "when a machine is right up at its limiting height, and the pilot is doing his best to make it go higher still, it is probably flying with its tail as low as the pilot dares to let it go, and the lateral and longitudinal controls are on the verge of vanishing, so that if the carburetor jets are behind the float chambers there is bound to be an over-rich mixture in any case. there is even a possibility of a careless or ignorant pilot carrying on in this tail-down position till one set of cylinders cuts out altogether, in which case the carburetor feeding that set may flood over, just as if the machine were on the ground, and the whole thing may catch fire. whereas, with the jets in front of the floats, though the mixture may starve a trifle, there is, at any rate, no danger of fire through climbing with the tail down. _a diving danger_ "on the other hand, in a 'pusher' with this type of engine, if the jets are in their normal position--which is in front of the floats--there is danger of fire in a dive. that is to say, if the pilot throttles right down, or switches off and relies on air pressure on his propeller to start the engine again, so that the gasoline is flooding over out of the jets instead of being sucked into the engine, there may be flooding over the magnetos if the dive is very steep and prolonged. in any case, a long dive will mean a certain amount of flooding, and, probably, a good deal of choking and spitting by the engine before it gets rid of the over-rich mixture and picks up steady firing again. which may indicate to young pilots that it is not good to come down too low under such circumstances, trusting entirely to their engines to pick up at once and get going before they hit the ground. "on the whole, it seems that it might be better practice to set the carburetors thwartwise of engines, for then jets and floats would always be at approximately the same level, no matter what the longitudinal position of the machine, and it is never long enough in one position at a big lateral angle to raise any serious carburetor troubles. car manufacturers who dive cheerfully into the troubled waters of aero-engine designs are a trifle apt to forget that their engines are put into positions on airplanes which would be positively indecent in a motor car. an angle of in is the exception on a car, but it is common on an airplane, and no one ever heard of a car going down a hill of to --which is not quite a vertical dive. therefore, there is every excuse for a well-designed and properly brought-up carburetor misbehaving itself in an aeroplane. "it seems, then, that it is up to the manufacturers to produce better carburetors--say, with the jet central with the float. but it also behooves the user to show ordinary common sense in handling the material at present available, and not to make a practice of burning up $ , worth or so of airplane just because he is too lazy to turn off his gasoline, or to have the tail of his machine lifted up while he is tinkering with his engines." notes on carburetor adjustment the modern float feed carburetor is a delicate and nicely balanced appliance that requires a certain amount of attention and care in order to obtain the best results. the adjustments can only be made by one possessing an intelligent knowledge of carburetor construction and must never be made unless the reason for changing the old adjustment is understood. before altering the adjustment of the leading forms of carburetors, a few hints regarding the quality to be obtained in the mixture should be given some consideration, as if these are properly understood this knowledge will prove of great assistance in adjusting the vaporizer to give a good working proportion of fuel and air. there is some question regarding the best mixture proportions and it is estimated that gas will be explosive in which the proportions of fuel vapor and air will vary from one part of the former to a wide range included between four and eighteen parts of the latter. a one to four mixture is much too rich, while the one in eighteen is much too lean to provide positive ignition. a rich mixture should be avoided because the excessive fuel used will deposit carbon and will soot the cylinder walls, combustion chamber interior, piston top and valves and also tend to overheat the motor. a rich mixture will also seriously interfere with flexible control of the engine, as it will choke up on low throttle and run well on open throttle when the full amount of gas is needed. a rich mixture may be quickly discovered by black smoke issuing from the muffler, the exhaust gas having a very pungent odor. if the mixture contains a surplus of air there will be popping sounds in the carburetor, which is commonly termed "blowing back." to adjust a carburetor is not a difficult matter when the purpose of the various control members is understood. the first thing to do in adjusting a carburetor is to start the motor and to retard the sparking lever so the motor will run slowly leaving the throttle about half open. in order to ascertain if the mixture is too rich cut down the gasoline flow gradually by screwing down the needle valve until the motor commences to run irregularly or misfire. close the needle valves as far as possible without having the engine come to a stop, and after having found the minimum amount of fuel gradually unscrew the adjusting valve until you arrive at the point where the engine develops its highest speed. when this adjustment is secured the lock nut is screwed in place so the needle valve will keep the adjustment. the next point to look out for is regulation of the auxiliary air supply on those types of carburetors where an adjustable air valve is provided. this is done by advancing the spark lever and opening the throttle. the air valve is first opened or the spring tension reduced to a point where the engine misfires or pops back in the carburetor. when the point of maximum air supply the engine will run on is thus determined, the air valve spring may be tightened by screwing in on the regulating screw until the point is reached where an appreciable speeding up of the engine is noticed. if both fuel and air valves are set right, it will be possible to accelerate the engine speed uniformly without interfering with regularity of engine operation by moving the throttle lever or accelerator pedal from its closed to its wide open position, this being done with the spark lever advanced. all types of carburetors do not have the same means of adjustment; in fact, some adjust only with the gasoline regulating needle; others must have a complete change of spray nozzles; while in others the mixture proportions may be varied only by adjustment of the quantity of entering air. changing the float level is effective in some carburetors, but this should never be done unless it is certain that the level is not correct. full instructions for locating carburetion troubles will be given in proper sequence. it is a fact well known to experienced repairmen and motorists that atmospheric conditions have much to do with carburetor action. it is often observed that a motor seems to develop more power at night than during the day, a circumstance which is attributed to the presence of more moisture in the cooler night air. likewise, taking a motor from sea level to an altitude of , feet involves using rarefied air in the engine cylinders and atmospheric pressures ranging from . pounds at sea level to . pounds per square inch at the high altitude. all carburetors will require some adjustment in the course of any material change from one level to another. great changes of altitude also have a marked effect on the cooling system of an airplane. water boils at degrees f. only at sea level. at an altitude of , feet it will boil at a temperature nineteen degrees lower, or degrees f. in high altitudes the reduced atmospheric pressure, for , feet or higher than sea level, results in not enough air reaching the mixture, so that either the auxiliary air opening has to be increased, or the gasoline in the mixture cut down. if the user is to be continually at high altitudes he should immediately purchase either a larger dome or a smaller strangling tube, mentioning the size carburetor that is at present in use and the type of motor that it is on, including details as to the bore and stroke. the smaller strangling tube makes an increased suction at the spray nozzle; the air will have to be readjusted to meet it and you can use more auxiliary air, which is necessary. the effect on the motor without a smaller strangling tube is a perceptible sluggishness and failure to speed up to its normal crank-shaft revolutions, as well as failure to give power. it means that about one-third of the regular speed is cut out. the reduced atmospheric pressure reduces the power of the explosion, in that there is not the same quantity of oxygen in the combustion chamber as at sea level; to increase the amount taken in, you must also increase the gasoline speed, which is done by an increased suction through the smaller strangling aperture. some forms of carburetors are affected more than others by changes of altitude, which explains why the zenith is so widely employed for airplane engine use. the compensating nozzle construction is not influenced as much by changes of altitude as the simpler nozzle types are. chapter vi early ignition systems--electrical ignition best--fundamentals of magnetism outlined--forms of magneto--zones of magnetic influence--how magnets are made--electricity and magnetism related--basic principles of magneto action--essential parts of magneto and functions--transformer coil systems--true high tension type--the berling magneto--timing and care--the dixie magneto--spark plug design and application--two-spark ignition-- special airplane plug. early ignition systems one of the most important auxiliary groups of the gasoline engine comprising the airplane power plant and one absolutely necessary to insure engine action is the ignition system or the method employed of kindling the compressed gas in the cylinder to produce an explosion and useful power. the ignition system has been fully as well developed as other parts of the engine, and at the present time practically all ignition systems follow principles which have become standard through wide acceptance. during the early stages of development of the gasoline engine various methods of exploding the charge of combustible gas in the cylinder were employed. on some of the earliest engines a flame burned close to the cylinder head, and at the proper time for ignition a slide or valve moved to provide an opening which permitted the flame to ignite the gas back of the piston. this system was practical only on the primitive form of gas engines in which the charge was not compressed before ignition. later, when it was found desirable to compress the gas a certain degree before exploding it, an incandescent platinum tube in the combustion chamber, which was kept in a heated condition by a flame burning in it, exploded the gas. the naked flame was not suitable in this application because when the slide was opened to provide communication between the flame and the gas the compressed charge escaped from the cylinder with enough pressure to blow out the flame at times and thus cause irregular ignition. when the flame was housed in a platinum tube it was protected from the direct action of the gas, and as long as the tube was maintained at the proper point of incandescence regular ignition was obtained. some engineers utilized the property of gases firing themselves if compressed to a sufficient degree, while others depended upon the heat stored in the cylinder-head to fire the highly compressed gas. none of these methods were practical in their application to motor car engines because they did not permit flexible engine action which is so desirable. at the present time, electrical ignition systems in which the compressed gas is exploded by the heating value of the minute electric arc or spark in the cylinder are standard, and the general practice seems to be toward the use of mechanical producers of electricity rather than chemical batteries. electrical ignition best two general forms of electrical ignition systems may be used, the most popular being that in which a current of electricity under high tension is made to leap a gap or air space between the points of the sparking plug screwed into the cylinder. the other form, which has been almost entirely abandoned in automobile and which was never used with airplane engine practice, but which is still used to some extent on marine engines, is called the low-tension system because current of low voltage is used and the spark is produced by moving electrodes in the combustion chamber. the essential elements of any electrical ignition system, either high or low tension, are: first, a simple and practical method of current production; second, suitable timing apparatus to cause the spark to occur at the right point in the cycle of engine action; third, suitable wiring and other apparatus to convey the current produced by the generator to the sparking member in the cylinder. the various appliances necessary to secure prompt ignition of the compressed gases should be described in some detail because of the importance of the ignition system. it is patent that the scope of a work of this character does not permit one to go fully into the theory and principles of operation of all appliances which may be used in connection with gasoline motor ignition, but at the same time it is important that the elementary principles be considered to some extent in order that the reader should have a proper understanding of the very essential ignition apparatus. the first point considered will be the common methods of generating the electricity, then the appliances to utilize it and produce the required spark in the cylinder. inasmuch as magneto ignition is universally used in connection with airplane engine ignition it will not be necessary to consider battery ignition systems. fundamentals of magnetism outlined to properly understand the phenomena and forces involved in the generation of electrical energy by mechanical means it is necessary to become familiar with some of the elementary principles of magnetism and its relation to electricity. the following matter can be read with profit by those who are not familiar with the subject. most persons know that magnetism exists in certain substances, but many are not able to grasp the terms used in describing the operation of various electrical devices because of not possessing a knowledge of the basic facts upon which the action of such apparatus is based. magnetism is a property possessed by certain substances and is manifested by the ability to attract and repel other materials susceptible to its effects. when this phenomenon is manifested by a conductor or wire through which a current of electricity is flowing it is termed "electro-magnetism." magnetism and electricity are closely related, each being capable of producing the other. practically all of the phenomena manifested by materials which possess magnetic qualities naturally can be easily reproduced by passing a current of electricity through a body which, when not under electrical influence, is not a magnetic substance. only certain substances show magnetic properties, these being iron, nickel, cobalt and their alloys. the earliest known substance possessing magnetic properties was a stone first found in asia minor. it was called the lodestone or leading stone, because of its tendency, if arranged so it could be moved freely, of pointing one particular portion toward the north. the compass of the ancient chinese mariners was a piece of this material, now known to be iron ore, suspended by a light thread or floated on a cork in some liquid so one end would point toward the north magnetic pole of the earth. the reason that this stone was magnetic was hard to define for a time, until it was learned that the earth was one huge magnet and that the iron ore, being particularly susceptible, absorbed and retained some of this magnetism. most of us are familiar with some of the properties of the magnet because of the extensive sale and use of small horseshoe magnets as toys. as they only cost a few pennies every one has owned one at some time or other and has experimented with various materials to see if they would be attracted. small pieces of iron or steel were quickly attracted to the magnet and adhered to the pole pieces when brought within the zone of magnetic influence. it was soon learned that brass, copper, tin or zinc were not affected by the magnet. a simple experiment that serves to illustrate magnetic attraction of several substances is shown at a, fig. . in this, several balls are hung from a standard or support, one of these being of iron, another of steel. when a magnet is brought near either of these they will be attracted toward it, while the others will remain indifferent to the magnetic force. experimenters soon learned that of the common metals only iron or steel were magnetic. [illustration: fig. .--some simple experiments to demonstrate various magnetic phenomena and clearly outline effects of magnetism and various forms of magnets.] if the ordinary bar or horseshoe magnet be carefully examined, one end will be found to be marked n. this indicates the north pole, while the other end is not usually marked and is the south pole. if the north pole of one magnet is brought near the south pole of another, a strong attraction will exist between them, this depending upon the size of the magnets used and the air gap separating the poles. if the south pole of one magnet is brought close to the end of the same polarity of the other there will be a pronounced repulsion of like force. these facts are easily proved by the simple experiment outlined at b, fig. . a magnet will only attract or influence a substance having similar qualities. the like poles of magnets will repel each other because of the obvious impossibility of uniting two influences or forces of practically equal strength but flowing in opposite directions. the unlike poles of magnets attract each other because the force is flowing in the same direction. the flow of magnetism is through the magnet from south to north and the circuit is completed by the flow of magnetic influence through the air gap or metal armature bridging it from the north to the south pole. forms of magnets and zone of magnetic influence defined magnets are commonly made in two forms, either in the shape of a bar or horseshoe. these two forms are made in two types, simple or compound. the latter are composed of a number of magnets of the same form united so the ends of like polarity are laced together, and such a construction will be more efficient and have more strength than a simple magnet of the same weight. the two common forms of simple and compound magnets are shown at c, fig. . the zone in which a magnetic influence occurs is called the magnetic field, and this force can be graphically shown by means of imaginary lines, which are termed "lines of force." as will be seen from the diagram at d, fig. , the lines show the direction of action of the magnetic force and also show its strength, as they are closer together and more numerous when the intensity of the magnetic field is at its maximum. a simple method of demonstrating the presence of the force is to lay a piece of thin paper over the pole pieces of either a bar or horseshoe magnet and sprinkle fine iron filings on it. the particles of metal arrange themselves in very much the manner shown in the illustrations and prove that the magnetic field actually exists. the form of magnet used will materially affect the size and area of the magnetic field. it will be noted that the field will be concentrated to a greater extent with the horseshoe form because of the proximity of the poles. it should be understood that these lines have no actual existence, but are imaginary and assumed to exist only to show the way the magnetic field is distributed. the magnetic influence is always greater at the poles than at the center, and that is why a horseshoe or u-form magnet is used in practically all magnetos or dynamos. this greater attraction at the poles can be clearly demonstrated by sprinkling iron filings on bar and u magnets, as outlined at e, fig. . a large mass gathers at the pole pieces, gradually tapering down toward the point where the attraction is least. from the diagrams it will be seen that the flow of magnetism is from one pole to the other by means of curved paths between them. this circuit is completed by the magnetism flowing from one pole to the other through the magnet, and as this flow is continued as long as the body remains magnetic it constitutes a magnetic circuit. if this flow were temporarily interrupted by means of a conductor of electricity moving through the field there would be a current of electricity induced in the conductor every time it cut the lines of force. there are three kinds of magnetic circuits. a non-magnetic circuit is one in which the magnetic influence completes its circuit through some substance not susceptible to the force. a closed magnetic circuit is one in which the influence completes its circuit through some magnetic material which bridges the gap between the poles. a compound circuit is that in which the magnetic influence passes through magnetic substances and non-magnetic substances in order to complete its circuit. how iron and steel bars are made magnetic magnetism may be produced in two ways, by contact or induction. if a piece of steel is rubbed on a magnet it will be found a magnet when removed, having a north and south pole and all of the properties found in the energizing magnet. this is magnetizing by contact. a piece of steel will retain the magnetism imparted to it for a considerable length of time, and the influence that remains is known as residual magnetism. this property may be increased by alloying the steel with tungsten and hardening it before it is magnetized. any material that will retain its magnetic influence after removal from the source of magnetism is known as a permanent magnet. if a piece of iron or steel is brought into the magnetic field of a powerful magnet it becomes a magnet without actual contact with the energizer. this is magnetizing by magnetic induction. if a powerful electric current flows through an insulated conductor wound around a piece of iron or steel it will make a magnet of it. this is magnetizing by electro-magnetic induction. a magnet made in this manner is termed an electro-magnet and usually the metal is of such a nature that it will not retain its magnetism when the current ceases to flow around it. steel is used in all cases where permanent magnets are required, while soft iron is employed in all cases where an intermittent magnetic action is desired. magneto field magnets are always made of tungsten steel alloy, so treated that it will retain its magnetism for lengthy periods. electricity and magnetism closely related there are many points in which magnetism and electricity are alike. for instance, air is a medium that offers considerable resistance to the passage of both magnetic influence and electric energy, although it offers more resistance to the passage of the latter. minerals like iron or steel are very easily influenced by magnetism and easily penetrated by it. when one of these is present in the magnetic circuit the magnetism will flow through the metal. any metal is a good conductor for the passage of the electric current, but few metals are good conductors of magnetic energy. a body of the proper metal will become a magnet due to induction if placed in the magnetic field, having a south pole where the lines of force enter it and a north pole where they pass out. we have seen that a magnet is constantly surrounded by a magnetic field and that an electrical conductor when carrying a current is also surrounded by a field of magnetic influence. now if the conductor carrying a current of electricity will induce magnetism in a bar of iron or steel, by a reversal of this process, a magnetized iron or steel bar will produce a current of electricity in a conductor. it is upon this principle that the modern dynamo or magneto is constructed. if an electro-motive force is induced in a conductor by moving it across a field of magnetic influence, or by passing a magnetic field near a conductor, electricity is said to be generated by magneto-electric induction. all mechanical generators of the electric current using permanent steel magnets to produce a field of magnetic influence are of this type. basic principles of magneto outlined the accompanying diagram, fig. , will show these principles very clearly. as stated on an earlier page, if the lines of force in the magnetic field are cut by a suitable conductor an electrical impulse will be produced in that conductor. in this simple machine the lines of force exist between the poles of a horseshoe magnet. the conductor, which in this case is a loop of copper wire, is mounted upon a spindle in order that it may be rotated in the magnetic field to cut the lines of magnetic influence present between the pole pieces. both of the ends of this loop are connected, one with the insulated drum shown upon the shaft, the other to the shaft. two metal brushes are employed to collect the current and cause it to flow through the external circuit. it can be seen that when the shaft is turned in the direction of the arrow the loop will cut through the lines of magnetic influence and a current will be generated therein. [illustration: fig. .--elementary form of magneto showing principal parts simplified to make method of current generation clear.] the pressure of the current and the amount produced vary in accordance to the rapidity with which the lines of magnetic influence are cut. the armature of a practical magneto, therefore, differs materially from that shown in the diagram. a large number of loops of wire would be mounted upon this shaft in order that the lines of magnetic influence would be cut a greater number of times in a given period and a core of iron used as a backing for the wire. this would give a more rapid alternating current and a higher electro-motive force than would be the case with a smaller number of loops of wire. [illustration: fig. .--showing how strength of magnetic influence and of the currents induced in the windings of armature vary with the rapidity of changes of flow.] the illustrations at fig. show a conventional double winding armature and field magnetic of a practical magneto in part section and will serve to more fully emphasize the points previously made. if the armature or spindle were removed from between the pole pieces there would exist a field of magnetic influence as shown at fig. , but the introduction of this component provides a conductor (the iron core) for the magnetic energy, regardless of its position, though the facility with which the influence will be transmitted depends entirely upon the position of the core. as shown at a, the magnetic flow is through the main body in a straight line, while at b, which position the armature has attained after one-eighth revolution, or degrees travel in the direction of the arrow, the magnetism must pass through in the manner indicated. at c, which position is attained every half revolution, the magnetic energy abandons the longer path through the body of the core for the shorter passage offered by the side pieces, and the field thrown out by the cross bar disappears. on further rotation of the armature, as at d, the body of the core again becomes energized as the magnetic influence resumes its flow through it. these changes in the strength of the magnetic field when distorted by the armature core, as well as the intensity of the energy existing in the field, affect the windings, and the electrical energy induced therein corresponds in strength to the rapidity with which these changes in magnetic flow occur. the most pronounced changes in the strength of the field will occur as the armature passes from position b to d, because the magnetic field existing around the core will be destroyed and again re-established. during the most of the armature rotation the changes in strength will be slight and the currents induced in the wire correspondingly small; but at the instant the core becomes remagnetized, as the armature leaves position c, the current produced will be at its maximum, and it is necessary to so time the rotation of the armature that at this instant one of the cylinders is in condition to be fired. it is imperative that the armature be driven in such relation to the crank-shaft that each production of maximum current coincides with the ignition point, this condition existing twice during each revolution of the armature, or at every degrees travel. each position shown corresponds to degrees travel of the armature, or one-eighth of a turn, and it takes just three-eighths revolution to change the position from a to that shown at d. essential parts of a magneto and their functions the magnets which produce the influence that in turn induces the electrical energy in the winding or loops of wire on the armature, and which may have any even number of opposed poles, are called field magnets. the loops of wire which are mounted upon a suitable drum and rotate in the field of magnetic influence in order to cut the lines of force is called an armature winding, while the core is the metal portion. the entire assembly is called the armature. the exposed ends of the magnets are called pole pieces and the arrangement used to collect the current is either a commutator or a collector. the stationary pieces which bear against the collector or commutator and act as terminals for the outside circuit are called brushes. these brushes are often of copper, or some of its alloys, because copper has a greater electrical conductivity than any other metal. these brushes are nearly always of carbon, which is sometimes electroplated with copper to increase its electrical conductivity, though cylinders of copper wire gauze impregnated with graphite are utilized at times. carbon is used because it is not so liable to cut the metal of the commutator as might be the case if the contact was of the metal to metal type. the reason for this is that carbon has the peculiar property in that it materially assists in the lubrication of the commutator, and being of soft, unctuous composition, will wear and conform to any irregularities on the surface of the metal collector rings. the magneto in common use consists of a number of horseshoe magnets which are compound in form and attached to suitable cast-iron pole pieces used to collect and concentrate the magnetic influence of the various magnets. between these pole pieces an armature rotates. this is usually shaped like a shuttle, around which are wound coils of insulated wire. these are composed of a large number of turns and the current produced depends in great measure upon the size of the wire and the number of turns per coil. an armature winding of large wire will deliver a current of great amperage, but of small voltage. an armature wound with very fine wire will deliver a current of high voltage but of low amperage. in the ordinary form of magneto, such as used for ignition, the current is alternating in character and the break in the circuit should be timed to occur when the armature is at the point of its greatest potential or pressure. where such a generator is designed for direct current production the ends of the winding are attached to the segments of a commutator, but where the instrument is designed to deliver an alternating current one end of the winding is fastened to an insulator ring on one end of the armature shaft and the other end is grounded on the frame of the machine. the quantity of the current depends upon the strength of the magnetic field and the number of lines of magnetic influence acting through the armature. the electro-motive force varies as to the length of the armature winding and the number of revolutions at which the armature is rotated. the transformer system uses low voltage magneto the magneto in the various systems which employ a transformer coil is very similar to a low-tension generator in general construction, and the current delivered at the terminals seldom exceeds volts. as it requires many times that potential or pressure to leap the gap which exists between the points of the conventional spark plug, a separate coil is placed in circuit to intensify the current to one of greater capacity. the essential parts of such a system and their relation to each other are shown in diagrammatic form at fig. and as a complete system at fig. . as is true of other systems the magnetic influence is produced by permanent steel magnets clamped to the cast-iron pole pieces between which the armature rotates. at the point of greatest potential in the armature winding the current is broken by the contact breaker, which is actuated by a cam, and a current of higher value is induced in the secondary winding of the transformer coil when the low voltage current is passed through the primary winding. [illustration: fig. .--diagrams explaining action of low tension transformer coil and true high tension magneto ignition systems.] [illustration: fig. a.--side sectional view of bosch high-tension magneto shows disposition of parts. end elevation depicts arrangement of interruptor and distributor mechanism.] it will be noted that the points of the contact breaker are together except for the brief instant when separated by the action of the point of the cam upon the lever. it is obvious that the armature winding is short-circuited upon itself except when the contact points are separated. while the armature winding is thus short-circuited there will be practically no generation of current. when the points are separated there is a sudden flow of current through the primary winding of the transformer coil, inducing a secondary current in the other winding, which can be varied in strength by certain considerations in the preliminary design of the apparatus. this current of higher potential or voltage is conducted directly to the plug if the device is fitted to a single-cylinder engine, or to the distributor arm if fitted to a multiple-cylinder motor. the distributor consists of an insulator in which is placed a number of segments, one for each cylinder to be fired, and so spaced that the number of degrees between them correspond to the ignition points of the motor. a two-cylinder motor would have two segments, a three-cylinder, three segments, and so on within the capacity of the instrument. in the illustration a four-cylinder distributor is fitted, and the distributing arm is in contact with the segment corresponding to the cylinder about to be fired. [illustration: fig. .--berling two-spark dual ignition system.] true high-tension magnetos are self-contained [illustration: fig. .--berling double-spark independent system.] the true high-tension magneto differs from the preceding inasmuch as the current of high voltage is produced in the armature winding direct, without the use of the separate coil. instead of but one coil, the armature carries two, one of comparatively coarse wire, the other of many turns of finer wire. the arrangement of these windings can be readily ascertained by reference to the diagram b, fig. , which shows the principle of operation very clearly. the simplicity of the ignition system is evident by inspection of fig. . one end of the primary winding (coarse wire) is coupled or grounded to the armature core, and the other passes to the insulated part of the interrupter. while in some forms the interrupter or contact breaker mechanism does not revolve, the desired motion being imparted to the contact lever to separate the points of a revolving cam, in this the cam or tripping mechanism is stationary and the contact breaker revolves. this arrangement makes it possible to conduct the current from the revolving primary coil to the interrupter by a direct connection, eliminating the use of brushes, which would otherwise be necessary. in other forms of this appliance where the winding is stationary, the interrupter may be operated by a revolving cam, though, if desired, the used of a brush at this point will permit this construction with a revolving winding. during the revolution of the armature the grounded lever makes and breaks contact with the insulated point, short-circuiting the primary winding upon itself until the armature reaches the proper position of maximum intensity of current production, at which time the circuit is broken, as in the former instance. one end of the secondary winding (fine wire) is grounded on the live end of the primary, the other end being attached to the revolving arm of the distributor mechanism. so long as a closed circuit is maintained feeble currents will pass through the primary winding, and so long as the contact points are together this condition will exist. when the current reaches its maximum value, because of the armature being in the best position, the cam operates the interrupter and the points are separated, breaking the short circuit which has existed in the primary winding. the secondary circuit has been open while the distributor arm has moved from one contact to another and there has been no flow of energy through this winding. while the electrical pressure will rise in this, even if the distributor arm contacted with one of the segments, there would be no spark at the plug until the contact points separated, because the current in the secondary winding would not be of sufficient strength. when the interrupter operates, however, the maximum primary current will be diverted from its short circuit and can flow to the ground only through the secondary winding and spark-plug circuit. the high pressure now existing in the secondary winding will be greatly increased by the sudden flow of primary current, and energy of high enough potential to successfully bridge the gap at the plug is thereby produced in the winding. the berling magneto [illustration: fig. .--type dd berling high tension magneto.] the berling magneto is a true high tension type delivering two impulses per revolution, but it is made in a variety of forms, both single and double spark. its principle of action does not differ in essentials from the high tension type previously described. this magneto is used on curtiss aviation engines and will deliver sparks in a positive manner sufficient to insure ignition of engines up to horse-power and at rotative speeds of the magneto armature up to , r. p. m. which is sufficient to take care of an eight-cylinder v engine running up to , r. p. m. the magneto is driven at crank-shaft speed on four-cylinder engines, at - / times crank-shaft speed on six-cylinder engines and at twice crank-shaft speed on eight-cylinder v types. the types "d" and "dd" berling magnetos are interchangeable with corresponding magnetos of other standard makes. the dimensions of the four-, six- and eight-cylinder types "d" and "dd" are all the same. the ideal method of driving the magneto is by means of flexible direct connecting coupling to a shaft intended for the purpose of driving the magneto. as the magneto must be driven at a high speed, a coupling of some flexibility is preferable. the employment of such a coupling will facilitate the mounting of the magneto, because a small inaccuracy in the lining up of the magneto with the driving shaft will be taken care of by the flexible coupling, whereas with a perfectly rigid coupling the line-up of the magneto must be absolutely accurate. another advantage of the flexible coupling is that the vibration of the motor will not be as fully transmitted to the armature shaft on the magneto as in case a rigid coupling is used. this means prolonged life for the magneto. the next best method of driving the magneto is by means of a gear keyed to the armature shaft. when this method of driving is employed, great care must be exercised in providing sufficient clearance between the gear on the magneto and the driving gear. if there should be a tight spot between these two gears it will react disadvantageously on the magneto. the third available method is to drive the magneto by means of a chain. this is the least desirable of the three methods and should be resorted to only in case of absolute necessity. it is difficult to provide sufficient clearance when using a chain without rendering the timing less accurate and positive. [illustration: fig. .--wiring diagrams of berling magneto ignition systems.] fig. , a shows diagrammatically the circuit of the "d" type two-spark independent magneto and the switch used with it. in position off the primary winding of the magneto is short-circuited and in this position the switch serves as an ordinary cut-out or grounding switch. in position " " the switch connects the magneto in such a way that it operates as an ordinary single-spark magneto. in this position one end of the secondary winding is grounded to the body of the motor. this is the starting position. in this position of the switch the entire voltage generated in the magneto is concentrated at one spark-plug instead of being divided in half. with the motor turning over very slowly, as is the case in starting, the full voltage generated by the magneto will not in all cases be sufficient to bridge simultaneously two spark gaps, but is amply sufficient to bridge one. also, this position of the switch tends to retard the ignition and should be used in starting to prevent back-firing. with the switch in position " " the magneto applies ignition to both plugs in each cylinder simultaneously. this is the normal running position. fig. , b shows diagrammatically the circuit of the type "dd" berling high-tension two-spark dual magneto. this type is recommended for certain types of heavy-duty airplane motors, which it is impossible to turn over fast enough to give the magneto sufficient speed to generate even a single spark of volume great enough to ignite the gas in the cylinder. the dual feature consists of the addition to the magneto of a battery interrupter. the equipment consists of the magneto, coil and special high-tension switch. the coil is intended to operate on six volts. either a storage battery or dry cells may be used. with the switch in the off position, the magneto is grounded, and the battery circuit is open. with the switch in the second or battery position marked "bat," one end of the secondary winding of the magneto is grounded, and the magneto operates as a single-spark magneto delivering high-tension current to the inside distributor, and the battery circuit being closed the high-tension current from the coil is delivered to the outside distributor. in this position the battery current is supplied to one set of spark plugs, no matter how slowly the motor is turned over, but as soon as the motor starts, the magneto supplies current as a single-spark magneto to the other set of the spark-plugs. after the engine is running, the switch should be thrown to the position marked "mag." the battery and coil are then disconnected, and the magneto furnishes ignition to both plugs in each cylinder. this is the normal running position. either a non-vibrating coil type "n- " is furnished or a combined vibrating and non-vibrating coil type "vn- ." setting berling magneto the magneto may be set according to one of two different methods, the selection of which is, to some extent, governed by the characteristics of the engine, but largely due to the personal preference on the part of the user. in the first method described below, the most advantageous position of the piston for fully advanced ignition is determined in relation to the extreme advanced position of the magneto. in this case, the fully retarded ignition will not be a matter of selection, but the timing range of the magneto is wide enough to bring the fully retarded ignition after top-center position of the piston. the second method for the setting of the magneto fixes the fully retarded position of the magneto in relation to that position of the piston where fully retarded ignition is desired. in this case, the extreme advance position of the magneto will not always correspond with the best position of the piston for fully advanced ignition, and the amount of advance the magneto should have to meet ideal requirements in this respect must be determined by experiment. _first method:_ . designate one cylinder as cylinder no. . . turn the crank-shaft until the piston in cylinder no. is in the position where the fully advanced spark is desired to occur. . remove the cover from the distributor block and turn the armature shaft in the direction of rotation of the magneto until the distributor finger-brush comes into such a position that this brush makes contact with the segment which is connected to the cable terminal marked " ." this is either one of the two bottom segments, depending upon the direction of rotation. . place the cam housing in extreme advance, i.e., turn the cam housing until it stops, in the direction opposite to the direction of rotation of the armature. with the cam housing in this position, open the cover. . with the armature in the approximate position as described in " ," turn the armature slightly in either direction to such a point that the platinum points of the magneto interrupter will just begin to open at the end of the cam, adjacent to the fibre lever on the interrupter. . with this exact position of the armature, fix the magneto to the driving member of the engine. _second method:_ . designate one cylinder as cylinder no. . . turn the crank-shaft until the piston in cylinder no. is in the position at which the fully retarded spark is desired to occur. . same as no. under first method. . place the cam housing in extreme retard, i.e., turn the cam housing until it stops, in the same direction as the direction of rotation of the armature. with the cam housing in this position, open the cover. . same as no. under first method. . same as no. under first method. wiring the magneto the wiring of the magneto is clearly shown by wiring diagram. first determine the sequence of firing for the cylinders and then connect the cables to the spark plug in the cylinders in proper sequence, beginning with cylinder no. marked on the distributor block. the switch used with the independent type must be mounted in such a manner that there will be a metallic connection between the frame of the magneto and the metal portion of the switch. it is advisable to use a separate battery, either storage or dry cells, as a source of current for the dual equipment. connecting to the same battery that is used with the generator and other electrical equipment may cause trouble, as a "ground" in this battery causes the coil to overheat. care and maintenance _lubrication:_ use only the very best of oil for the oil cups. put five drops of oil in the oil cup at the driving end of the magneto for every fifty hours of actual running. put five drops of oil in the oil cup at the interrupter end of the magneto, located at one side of the cam housing, for every hundred hours of actual running. lubricate the embossed cams in the cam housing with a thin film of vaseline every fifty hours of actual running. wipe off all superfluous vaseline. never use oil in the interrupter. do not lubricate any other part of the interrupter. _adjusting the interrupter:_ with the fibre lever in the center of one of the embossed cams, as at fig. , the opening between the platinum contacts should be not less than . " and not more than . ". the gauge riveted to the adjusting wrench should barely be able to pass between the contacts when fully open. the platinum contacts must be smoothed off with a very fine file. when in closed position, the platinum contacts should make contact with each other over their entire surfaces. when inspecting the interrupter, make sure that the ground brush in the back of the interrupter base is making good contact with the surface on which it rubs. _cleaning the distributor:_ the distributor block cover should be removed for inspection every twenty-five hours of actual running and the carbon deposit from the distributor finger-brush wiped off the distributor block by rubbing with a rag or piece of waste dipped in gasoline or kerosene. the high-tension terminal brush on the side of the magneto should also be carefully inspected for proper tension. locating trouble trouble in the ignition system is indicated by the motor "missing," stopping entirely, or by inability to start. it is safe to assume that the trouble is not in the magneto, and the carburetor, gasoline supply and spark-plugs should first be investigated. [illustration: fig. .--the berling magneto breaker box showing contact points separated and interruptor lever on cam.] if the magneto is suspected, the first thing to do is to determine if it will deliver a spark. to determine this, disconnect one of the high-tension leads from the spark-plug in one of the cylinders and place it so that there is approximately / " between the terminal and the cylinder frame. open the pet cocks on the other cylinders to prevent the engine from firing and turn over the engine until the piston is approaching the end of the compression stroke in the cylinder from which the cable has been removed. set the magneto in the advance position and rapidly rock the engine over the top-center position, observing closely if a spark occurs between the end of the high-tension cable and the frame. if the magneto is of the dual type, the trouble may be either in the magneto or in the battery or coil system, therefore disconnect the battery and place the switch in the position marked "mag." the magneto will then operate as an independent magneto and should spark in the proper manner. after this the battery system should be investigated. to test the operation of the battery and coil, examine all connections, making sure that they are clean and tight, and then with the switch, in the "bat," rock the piston slowly back and forth. if a type "vn- " coil is used, a shower of sparks should jump between the high-tension cable terminal and the cylinder frame when the piston is in the correct position for firing. if no spark occurs, remove the cover from the coil and see that the vibrating tongue is free. if a type "n- " coil is used, a single spark will occur. the battery should furnish six volts when connected to the coil, and this should also be verified. if the coil still refuses to give a spark and all connections are correct, the coil should be replaced and the defective coil returned to the manufacturer. if both magneto and coil give a spark when tested as just described, the spark-plugs should be investigated. to do this, disconnect the cables and remove the spark-plugs. then reconnect the cables to the plugs and place them so that the frame portions of the plugs are in metallic connection with the frame of the motor. then turn over the motor, thus revolving the magneto armature, and see if a spark is produced at the spark gaps of the plugs. the most common defects in spark-plugs are breaking down of the insulation, fouling due to carbon, or too large or small a spark gap. to clean the plugs a stiff brush and gasoline should be used. the spark gap should be about / " and never less than / ". too small a gap may have been caused by beads of metal forming due to the heat of the spark. too long a gap may have been caused by the points burning off. if the magneto and spark plugs are in good condition and the engine does not run satisfactorily, the setting should be verified according to instructions previously given, and, if necessary, readjusted. [illustration: fig. .--the dixie model for six-cylinder airplane engine ignition.] be careful to observe that both the type "vn- " and type "n- " coils are so arranged that the spark occurs on the opening of the contacts of the timer. as this is just the reverse of the usual operation, it should be carefully noted when any change in the setting of the timer is made. the timer on the dual type magneto is adjusted so that the battery spark occurs about ° later than the magneto spark. this provides an automatic advance as soon as the switch is thrown to the magneto position "mag." this relative timing can be easily adjusted by removing the interrupter and shifting the cam in the direction desired. the dixie magneto [illustration: fig. .--installation dimensions of dixie model magneto.] the dixie magneto, shown at fig. , operates on a different principle than the rotary armature type. it is used on the hall-scott and other aviation engines. in this magneto the rotating member consists of two pieces of magnetic material separated by a non-magnetic center piece. this member constitutes true rotating poles for the magnet and rotates in a field structure, composed of two laminated field pieces, riveted between two non-magnetic rings. the bearings for the rotating poles are mounted in steel plates, which lie against the poles of the magnets. when the magnet poles rotate, the magnetic lines of force from each magnet pole are carried directly to the field pieces and through the windings, without reversal through the mass of the rotating member and with only a single air gap. there are no losses by flux reversal in the rotating part, such as take place in other machines, and this is said to account for the high efficiency of the instrument. [illustration: fig. .--the rotating elements of the dixie magneto.] and this "mason principle" involved in the operation of the dixie is simplified by a glance at the field structure, consisting of the non-magnetic rings, assembled to which are the field pieces between which the rotating poles revolve (see fig. ). rotating between the limbs of the magnets, these two pieces of magnetic material form true extensions to the poles of the magnets, and are, in consequence, _always_ of the _same_ polarity. it will be seen there is no reversal of the magnetism through them, and consequently no eddy current or hysteresis losses which are present in the usual rotor or inductor types. the simplicity features of construction stand out prominently here, in that there are no revolving windings, a detail entirely differing from the orthodox high-tension instrument. this simplicity becomes instantly apparent when it is found that the circuit breaker, instead of revolving as it does in other types, is stationary and that the whole breaker mechanism is exposed by simply turning the cover spring aside and removing cover. this makes inspection and adjustment particularly simple, and the fact that no special tool is necessary for adjustment of the platinum points--an ordinary small screw-driver is the whole "kit of tools" needed in the work of disassembling or assembling--is a feature of some value. [illustration: fig. .--suggestions for adjusting and dismantling dixie magneto. a--screw driver adjusts contact points. b--distributor block removed. c--taking off magnets. d--showing how easily condenser and high tension windings are removed.] with dust- and water-protecting casing removed, and one of the magnets withdrawn, as in fig. , the winding can be seen with its core resting on the field pole pieces and the primary lead attached to its side. an important feature of the high-tension winding is that the heads are of insulating material, and there is not the tendency for the high-tension current to jump to the side as in the ordinary armature type magneto. the high-tension current is carried to the distributor by means of an insulated block with a spindle, at one end of which is a spring brush bearing directly on the winding, thus shortening the path of the high-tension current and eliminating the use of rubber spools and insulating parts. the moving parts of the magneto need never be disturbed if the high-tension winding is to be removed. this winding constitutes all of the magneto windings, no external spark coil being necessary. the condenser is placed directly above the winding and is easily removable by taking out two screws, instead of being placed in an armature where it is inaccessible except to an expert, and where it cannot be replaced except at the factory whence it emanated. care of the dixie magneto the bearings of the magneto are provided with oil cups and a few drops of light oil every , miles are sufficient. the breaker lever should be lubricated every , miles with a drop of light oil, applied with a tooth-pick. the proper distance between the platinum points when separated should not exceed . or one-fiftieth of an inch. a gauge of the proper size is attached to the screwdriver furnished with the magneto. the platinum contacts should be kept clean and properly adjusted. should the contacts become pitted, a fine file should be used to smooth them in order to permit them to come into perfect contact. the distributor block should be removed occasionally and inspected for an accumulation of carbon dust. the inside of the distributor block should be cleaned with a cloth moistened with gasoline and then wiped dry with a clean cloth. when replacing the block, care must be exercised in pushing the carbon brush into the socket. do not pull out the carbon brushes in the distributor because you think there is not enough tension on the small brass springs. in order to obtain the most efficient results, the normal setting of the spark-plug points should not exceed . of an inch, and it is advisable to have the gap just right before a spark-plug is inserted. the spark-plug electrodes may be easily set by means of the gauge attached to the screwdriver. _the setting of the spark-plug points is an important function which is usually overlooked, with the result that the magneto is blamed when it is not at fault._ timing of the dixie magneto [illustration: fig. a.--sectional views outlining construction of dixie magneto with compound distributor for eight-cylinder engine ignition.] in order to obtain the utmost efficiency from the engine, the magneto must be correctly timed to it. this operation is usually performed when the magneto is fitted to the engine at the factory. the correct setting may vary according to individuality of the engine, and some engines may require an earlier setting in order to obtain the best results. however, should the occasion arise to retime the magneto, the procedure is as follows: rotate the crank-shaft of the engine until one of the pistons, preferably that of cylinder no. , is / of an inch ahead of the end of the compression stroke. with the timing lever in full retard position, the driving shaft of the magneto should be rotated in the direction in which it will be driven. the circuit breaker should be closely observed and when the platinum contact points are about to separate, the drive gear or coupling should be secured to the drive shaft of the magneto. care should be taken not to alter the position of the magneto shaft when tightening the nut to secure the gear or coupling, after which the magneto should be secured to its base. remove the distributor block and determine which terminal of the block is in contact with the carbon brush of the distributor finger and connect with plug wire leading to no. cylinder to this terminal. connect the remaining plug wires in turn according to the proper sequence of firing of the cylinders. (see the wiring diagram for a typical six-cylinder engine at fig. .) a terminal on the end of the cover spring of the magneto is provided for the purpose of connecting the wire leading to a ground switch for stopping the engine. a special model or type of magneto is made for v engines which use a compound distributor construction instead of the simple type on the model illustrated and a different interior arrangement permits the production of four sparks per revolution of the rotors. this makes it possible to run the magneto slower than would be possible with the two-spark form. the application of two compound distributor magnetos of this type to a thomas-morse horse-power motor of the eight-cylinder v pattern is clearly shown at fig. . [illustration: fig. .--wiring diagram of dixie magneto installation on hall-scott six-cylinder horse-power aeronautic motor.] spark-plug design and application [illustration: fig. .--how magneto ignition is installed on thomas-morse horse-power motor.] with the high-tension system of ignition the spark is produced by a current of high voltage jumping between two points which break the complete circuit, which would exist otherwise in the secondary coil and its external connections. the spark-plug is a simple device which consists of two terminal electrodes carried in a suitable shell member, which is screwed into the cylinder. typical spark-plugs are shown in section at fig. and the construction can be easily understood. the secondary wire from the coil is attached to a terminal at the top of a central electrode member, which is supported in a bushing of some form of insulating material. the type shown at a employs a molded porcelain as an insulator, while that depicted at b uses a bushing of mica. the insulating bushing and electrode are housed in a steel body, which is provided with a screw thread at the bottom, by which means it is screwed into the combustion chamber. [illustration: fig. .--spark-plug types showing construction and arrangement of parts.] when porcelain is used as an insulating material it is kept from direct contact with the metal portion by some form of yielding packing, usually asbestos. this is necessary because the steel and porcelain have different coefficients of expansion and some flexibility must be provided at the joints to permit the materials to expand differently when heated. the steel body of the plug which is screwed into the cylinder is in metallic contact with it and carries sparking points which form one of the terminals of the air gap over which the spark occurs. the current entering at the top of the plug cannot reach the ground, which is represented by the metal portion of the engine, until it has traversed the full length of the central electrode and overcome the resistance of the gap between it and the terminal point on the shell. the porcelain bushing is firmly seated against the asbestos packing by means of a brass screw gland which sets against a flange formed on the porcelain, and which screws into a thread at the upper portion of the plug body. the mica plug shown at b is somewhat simpler in construction than that shown at a. the mica core which keeps the central electrode separated from the steel body is composed of several layers of pure sheet mica wound around the steel rod longitudinally, and hundreds of stamped steel washers which are forced over this member and compacted under high pressure with some form of a binding material between them. porcelain insulators are usually molded from high-grade clay and are approximately of the shapes desired by the designers of the plug. the central electrode may be held in place by mechanical means such as nuts, packings, and a shoulder on the rod, as shown at a. another method sometimes used is to cement the electrode in place by means of some form of fire-clay cement. whatever method of fastening is used, it is imperative that the joints be absolutely tight so that no gas can escape at the time of explosion. porcelain is the material most widely used because it can be glazed so that it will not absorb oil, and it is subjected to such high temperature in baking that it is not liable to crack when heated. the spark-plugs may be screwed into any convenient part of the combustion chamber, the general practice being to install them in the caps over the inlet valves, or in the side of the combustion chamber, so the points will be directly in the path of the entering fresh gases from the carburetor. other insulating materials sometimes used are glass, steatite (which is a form of soapstone) and lava. mica and porcelain are the two common materials used because they give the best results. glass is liable to crack, while lava or the soapstone insulating bushings absorb oil. the spark gap of the average plug is equal to about / of an inch for coil ignition and / of an inch when used in magneto circuits. a simple gauge for determining the gap setting is the thickness of an ordinary visiting card for magneto plugs, or a space equal to the thickness of a worn dime for a coil plug. the insulating bushings are made in a number of different ways, and while details of construction vary, spark-plugs do not differ essentially in design. the dimensions of the standardized plug recommended by the s. a. e. are shown at fig. . [illustration: fig. .--standard airplane engine plug suggested by s. a. e. standards committee.] it is often desirable to have a water-tight joint between the high-tension cable and the terminal screw on top of the insulating bushing of the spark-plug, especially in marine applications. the plug shown at c, fig. , is provided with an insulating member or hood of porcelain, which is secured by a clip in such a manner that it makes a water-tight connection. should the porcelain of a conventional form of plug become covered with water or dirty oil, the high-tension current is apt to run down this conducting material on the porcelain and reach the ground without having to complete its circuit by jumping the air gap and producing a spark. it will be evident that wherever a plug is exposed to the elements, which is often the case in airplane service, that it should be protected by an insulating hood which will keep the insulator dry and prevent short circuiting of the spark. the same end can be attained by slipping an ordinary rubber nipple over the porcelain insulator of any conventional plug and bringing up one end over the cable. two-spark ignition on most aviation engines, especially those having large cylinders, it is sometimes difficult to secure complete combustion by using a single-spark plug. if the combustion is not rapid the efficiency of the engine will be reduced proportionately. the compressed charge in the cylinder does not ignite all at once or instantaneously, as many assume, but it is the strata of gas nearest the plug which is ignited first. this in turn sets fire to consecutive layers of the charge until the entire mass is aflame. one may compare the combustion of gas in the gas-engine cylinder to the phenomenon which obtains when a heavy object is thrown into a pool of still water. first a small circle is seen at the point where the object has passed into the water, this circle in turn inducing other and larger circles until the whole surface of the pool has been agitated from the one central point. the method of igniting the gas is very similar, as the spark ignites the circle of gas immediately adjacent to the sparking point, and this circle in turn ignites a little larger one concentric with it. the second circle of flame sets fire to more of the gas, and finally the entire contents of the combustion chamber are burning. while ordinarily combustion is sufficiently rapid with a single plug so that the proper explosion is obtained at moderate engine speeds, if the engine is working fast and the cylinders are of large capacity more power may be obtained by setting fire to the mixture at two different points instead of but one. this may be accomplished by using two sparking-plugs in the cylinder instead of one, and experiments have shown that it is possible to gain from twenty-five to thirty per cent. in motor power at high speed with two-spark plugs, because the combustion of gas is accelerated by igniting the gas simultaneously in two places. the double-plug system on airplane engines is also a safeguard, as in event of failure of one plug in the cylinder the other would continue to fire the gas, and the engine will continue to function properly. in using magneto ignition some precautions are necessary relating to wiring and also the character of the spark-plugs employed. the conductor should be of good quality, have ample insulation, and be well protected from accumulations of oil, which would tend to decompose rubber insulation. it is customary to protect the wiring by running it through the conduits of fiber or metal tubing lined with insulating material. multiple strand cables should be used for both primary and secondary wiring, and the insulation should be of rubber at least / inch thick. the spark-plugs commonly used for battery and coil ignition cannot always be employed when a magneto is fitted. the current produced by the mechanical generator has a greater amperage and more heat value than that obtained from transformer coils excited by battery current. the greater heat may burn or fuse the slender points used on some battery plugs and heavier electrodes are needed to resist the heating effect of the more intense arc. while the current has greater amperage it is not of as high potential or voltage as that commonly produced by the secondary winding of an induction coil, and it cannot overcome as much of a gap. manufacturers of magneto plugs usually set the spark points about / of an inch apart. the most efficient magneto plug has a plurality of points so that when the distance between one set becomes too great the spark will take place between one of the other pairs of electrodes which are not separated by so great an air space. [illustration: fig. .--special mica plug for aviation engines.] special plugs for airplane work airplane work calls for special construction of spark-plugs, owing to the high compression used in the engines and the fact that they are operated on open throttle practically all the time, thus causing a great deal of heat to be developed. the plug shown at fig. was recently described in "the automobile," and has been devised especially for airplane engines and automobile racing power plants. the core c is built up of mica washers, and has square shoulders. as mica washers of different sizes may be used, and accurate machining, such as is necessary with conical clamping surfaces, is not required, the plug can be produced economically. the square shoulders of the core afford two gasket seats, and when the core is clamped in the shell by means of check nut e, it is accurately centered and a tight joint is formed. this construction also makes a shorter plug than where conical fits are used, thus improving the heat radiation through the stem. the lower end of the shell is provided with a baffle plate o, which tends to keep the oil away from the mica. there are perforations l in this baffle plate to prevent burnt gases being pocketed behind the baffle plate and pre-igniting the new charge. this construction also brings the firing point out into the firing chamber of the engine, and has all the other advantages of a closed-end plug. the stem p is made of brass or copper, on account of their superior heat conductivity, and the electrode j is swedged into the bottom of the stem, as shown at k, in a secure manner. the shell is finned, as shown at g, to provide greater heat radiating surface. there is also a fin f at the top of the stem, to increase the radiation of heat from the stem and electrode. the top of this finned portion is slightly countersunk, and the stem is riveted into same, thereby reducing the possibility of leakage past the threads on the stem. this finned portion is necked at a to take a slip terminal. in building up the core a small section of washers, i, is built up before the mica insulating tube d is placed on. this construction gives a better support to section i. baffle plate o is bored out to allow the electrode j to pass through, and the clearance between baffle plate and electrode is made larger than the width of the gap between the firing points, so that there is no danger of the spark jumping from the electrode to the baffle plate. this plug will be furnished either with or without the finned portion, to meet individual requirements. the manufacturers lay special stress upon the simplicity of construction and upon the method of clamping, which is claimed to make the plug absolutely gas-tight. chapter vii why lubrication is necessary--friction defined--theory of lubrication--derivation of lubricants--properties of cylinder oils--factors influencing lubrication system selection--gnome type engines use castor oil--hall-scott lubrication system--oil supply by constant level splash system--dry crank-case system best for airplane engines--why cooling systems are necessary-- cooling systems generally applied--cooling by positive pump circulation--thermo-syphon system--direct air-cooling methods-- air-cooled engine design considerations. why lubrication is necessary the importance of minimizing friction at the various bearing surfaces of machines to secure mechanical efficiency is fully recognized by all mechanics, and proper lubricity of all parts of the mechanism is a very essential factor upon which the durability and successful operation of the motor car power plant depends. all of the moving members of the engine which are in contact with other portions, whether the motion is continuous or intermittent, of high or low velocity, or of rectilinear or continued rotary nature, should be provided with an adequate supply of oil. no other assemblage of mechanism is operated under conditions which are so much to its disadvantage as the motor car, and the tendency is toward a simplification of oiling methods so that the supply will be ample and automatically applied to the points needing it. in all machinery in motion the members which are in contact have a tendency to stick to each other, and the very minute projections which exist on even the smoothest of surfaces would have a tendency to cling or adhere to each other if the surfaces were not kept apart by some elastic and unctuous substance. this will flow or spread out over the surfaces and smooth out the inequalities existing which tend to produce heat and retard motion of the pieces relative to each other. a general impression which obtains is that well machined surfaces are smooth, but while they are apparently free from roughness, and no projections are visible to the naked eye, any smooth bearing surface, even if very carefully ground, will have a rough appearance if examined with a magnifying glass. an exaggerated condition to illustrate this point is shown at fig. . the amount of friction will vary in proportion to the pressure on the surfaces in contact and will augment as the loads increase; the rougher surfaces will have more friction than smoother ones and soft bodies will produce more friction than hard substances. friction defined friction is always present in any mechanism as a resisting force that tends to retard motion and bring all moving parts to a state of rest. the absorption of power by friction may be gauged by the amount of heat which exists at the bearing points. friction of solids may be divided into two classes: sliding friction, such as exists between the piston and cylinder, or the bearings of a gas-engine, and rolling friction, which is that present when the load is supported by ball or roller bearings, or that which exists between the tires or the driving wheels and the road. engineers endeavor to keep friction losses as low as possible, and much care is taken in all modern airplane engines to provide adequate methods of lubrication, or anti-friction bearings at all points where considerable friction exists. theory of lubrication the reason a lubricant is supplied to bearing points will be easily understood if one considers that these elastic substances flow between the close fitting surfaces, and by filling up the minute depressions in the surfaces and covering the high spots act as a cushion which absorbs the heat generated and takes the wear instead of the metallic bearing surface. the closer the parts fit together the more fluid the lubricant must be to pass between their surfaces, and at the same time it must possess sufficient body so that it will not be entirely forced out by the pressure existing between the parts. [illustration: fig. .--showing use of magnifying glass to demonstrate that apparently smooth metal surfaces may have minute irregularities which produce friction.] oils should have good adhesive, as well as cohesive, qualities. the former are necessary so that the oil film will cling well to the surfaces of the bearings; the latter, so the oil particles will cling together and resist the tendency to separation which exists all the time the bearings are in operation. when used for gas-engine lubrication the oil should be capable of withstanding considerable heat in order that it will not be vaporized by the hot portions of the cylinder. it should have sufficient cold test so that it will remain fluid and flow readily at low temperature. lubricants should be free from acid, or alkalies, which tend to produce a chemical action with metals and result in corrosion of the parts to which they are applied. it is imperative that the oil be exactly the proper quality and nature for the purpose intended and that it be applied in a positive manner. the requirements may be briefly summarized as follows: first--it must have sufficient body to prevent seizing of the parts to which it is applied and between which it is depended upon to maintain an elastic film, and yet it must not have too much viscosity, in order to minimize the internal or fluid friction which exists between the particles of the lubricant itself. second--the lubricant must not coagulate or gum; must not injure the parts to which it is applied, either by chemical action or by producing injurious deposits, and it should not evaporate readily. third--the character of the work will demand that the oil should not vaporize when heated or thicken to such a point that it will not flow readily when cold. fourth--the oil must be free from acid, alkalies, animal or vegetable fillers, or other injurious agencies. fifth--it must be carefully selected for the work required and should be a good conductor of heat. derivation of lubricants the first oils which were used for lubricating machinery were obtained from animal and vegetable sources, though at the present time most unguents are of mineral derivation. lubricants may exist as fluids, semifluids, or solids. the viscosity will vary from light spindle or dynamo oils, which have but little more body than kerosene, to the heaviest greases and tallows. the most common solid employed as a lubricant is graphite, sometimes termed "plumbago" or "black lead." this substance is of mineral derivation. the disadvantage of oils of organic origin, such as those obtained from animal fats or vegetable substances, is that they will absorb oxygen from the atmosphere, which causes them to thicken or become rancid. such oils have a very poor cold test, as they solidify at comparatively high temperatures, and their flashing point is so low that they cannot be used at points where much heat exists. in most animal oils various acids are present in greater or less quantities, and for this reason they are not well adapted for lubricating metallic surfaces which may be raised high enough in temperature to cause decomposition of the oils. lubricants derived from the crude petroleum are called "oleonaphthas" and they are a product of the process of refining petroleum through which gasoline and kerosene are obtained. they are of lower cost than vegetable or animal oil, and as they are of non-organic origin, they do not become rancid or gummy by constant exposure to the air, and they will have no corrosive action on metals because they contain no deleterious substances in chemical composition. by the process of fractional distillation mineral oils of all grades can be obtained. they have a lower cold and higher flash test and there is not the liability of spontaneous combustion that exists with animal oils. the organic oils are derived from fatty substances, which are present in the bodies of all animals and in some portions of plants. the general method of extracting oil from animal bodies is by a rendering process, which consists of applying sufficient heat to liquefy the oil and then separating it from the tissue with which it is combined by compression. the only oil which is used to any extent in gas-engine lubrication that is not of mineral derivation is castor oil. this substance has been used on high-speed racing automobile engines and on airplane power plants. it is obtained from the seeds of the castor plant, which contain a large percentage of oil. among the solid substances which may be used for lubricating purposes may be mentioned tallow, which is obtained from the fat of animals, and graphite and soapstone, which are of mineral derivation. tallow is never used at points where it will be exposed to much heat, though it is often employed as a filler for greases used in transmission gearing of autos. graphite is sometimes mixed with oil and applied to cylinder lubrication, though it is most often used in connection with greases in the landing gear parts and for coating wires and cables of the airplane. graphite is not affected by heat, cold, acids, or alkalies, and has a strong attraction for metal surfaces. it mixes readily with oils and greases and increases their efficiency in many applications. it is sometimes used where it would not be possible to use other lubricants because of extremes of temperature. the oils used for cylinder lubrication are obtained almost exclusively from crude petroleum derived from american wells. special care must be taken in the selection of crude material, as every variety will not yield oil of the proper quality to be used as a cylinder lubricant. the crude petroleum is distilled as rapidly as possible with fire heat to vaporize off the naphthas and the burning oils. after these vapors have been given off superheated steam is provided to assist in distilling. when enough of the light elements have been eliminated the residue is drawn off, passed through a strainer to free it from grit and earthy matters, and is afterwards cooled to separate the wax from it. this is the dark cylinder oil and is the grade usually used for steam-engine cylinders. properties of cylinder oils the oil that is to be used in the gasoline engine must be of high quality, and for that reason the best grades are distilled in a vacuum that the light distillates may be separated at much lower temperatures than ordinary conditions of distilling permit. if the degree of heat is not high the product is not so apt to decompose and deposit carbon. if it is desired to remove the color of the oil which is caused by free carbon and other impurities it can be accomplished by filtering the oil through charcoal. the greater the number of times the oil is filtered, the lighter it will become in color. the best cylinder oils have flash points usually in excess of degrees f., and while they have a high degree of viscosity at degrees f. they become more fluid as the temperature increases. the lubricating oils obtained by refining crude petroleum may be divided into three classes: first--the natural oils of great body which are prepared for use by allowing the crude material to settle in tanks at high temperature and from which the impurities are removed by natural filtration. these oils are given the necessary body and are free from the volatile substances they contain by means of superheated steam which provides a source of heat. second--another grade of these natural oils which are filtered again at high temperatures and under pressure through beds of animal charcoal to improve their color. third--pale, limpid oils, obtained by distillation and subsequent chemical treatment from the residuum produced in refining petroleum to obtain the fuel oils. authorities agree that any form of mixed oil in which animal and mineral lubricants are combined should never be used in the cylinder of a gas engine as the admixture of the lubricants does not prevent the decomposition of the organic oil into the glycerides and fatty acids peculiar to the fat used. in a gas-engine cylinder the flame tends to produce more or less charring. the deposits of carbon will be much greater with animal oils than with those derived from the petroleum base because the constituents of a fat or tallow are not of the same volatile character as those which comprise the hydro-carbon oils which will evaporate or volatilize before they char in most instances. factors influencing lubrication system selection the suitability of oil for the proper and efficient lubrication of all internal combustion engines is determined chiefly by the following factors: . type of cooling system (operating temperatures). . type of lubricating system (method of applying oil to the moving parts). . rubbing speeds of contact surfaces. were the operating temperatures, bearing surface speeds and lubrication systems identical, a single oil could be used in all engines with equal satisfaction. the only change then necessary in viscosity would be that due to climatic conditions. as engines are now designed, only three grades of oil are necessary for the lubrication of all types with the exception of knight, air-cooled and some engines which run continuously at full load. in the specification of engine lubricants the feature of load carried by the engine should be carefully considered. _full load engines._ . marine. . racing automobile. . aviation. . farm tractor. . some stationary. _variable load engines._ . pleasure automobile. . commercial vehicle. . motor cycle. . some stationary. of the forms outlined, the only one we have any immediate concern about is the airplane power plant. the platt & washburn refining company, who have made a careful study of the lubrication problem as applied to all types of engines, have found a peculiar set of conditions to apply to oiling high-speed constant-duty or "full-load" engines. modern airplane engines are designed to operate continuously at a fairly uniform high rotative speed and at full load over long periods of time. as a sequence to this heavy duty the operating temperatures are elevated. for the sake of extreme lightness in weight of all parts, very thin alloy steel aluminum or cast iron pistons are fitted and the temperature of the thin piston heads at the center reaches anywhere between ° and , ° fahr., as in automobile racing engines. freely exposed to such intense heat hydro-carbon oils are partially "cracked" into light and heavy products or polymerized into solid hydro-carbons. from these facts it follows that only heavy mineral oils of low carbon residue and of the greatest chemical purity and stability should be used to secure good lubrication. in all cases the oil should be sufficiently heavy to assure the highest horse-power and fuel and oil economy compatible with perfect lubrication, avoiding, at the same time, carbonization and ignition failure. when aluminum pistons are used their superior heat-conducting properties aid materially in reducing the rate of oil destruction. the extraordinary evolutions described by airplanes in flight make it a matter of vital necessity to operate engines inclined at all angles to the vertical as well as in an upside-down position. to meet this situation lubricating systems have been elaborated so as to deliver an abundance of oil where needed and to eliminate possible flooding of cylinders. this is done by applying a full force feed system, distributing oil under considerable pressure to all working parts. discharged through the bearings, the oil drains down to the suction side of a second pump located in the bottom of the base chamber. this pump being of greater capacity than the first prevents the accumulation of oil in the crank-case, and forces it to a separate oil reservoir-cooler, whence it flows back in rapid circulation to the pump feeding the bearings. with this arrangement positive lubrication is entirely independent of engine position. the lubricating system of the thomas-morse aviation engines, which is shown at fig. , is typical of current practice. [illustration: fig. .--pressure feed oiling system of thomas aviation engine includes oil cooling means.] gnome type engines use castor oil the construction and operation of rotative radial cylinder engines introduce additional difficulties of lubrication to those already referred to and merit especial attention. owing to the peculiar alimentation systems of gnome type engines, atomized gasoline mixed with air is drawn through the hollow stationary crank-shaft directly into the crank-case which it fills on the way to the cylinders. therein lies the trouble. hydrocarbon oils are soon dissolved by the gasoline and washed off, leaving the bearing surfaces without adequate protection and exposed to instant wear and destruction. so castor oil is resorted to as an indispensable but unfortunate compromise. of vegetable origin, it leaves a much more bulky carbon deposit in the explosion chambers than does mineral oil and its great affinity for oxygen causes the formation of voluminous gummy deposit in the crank-case. engines employing it need to be dismounted and thoroughly scraped out at frequent intervals. it is advisable to use only unblended chemically pure castor oil in rotative engines, first by virtue of its insolubility in gasoline and second because its extra heavy body can resist the high temperature of air-cooled cylinders. hall-scott lubrication system [illustration: fig. .--diagram of oiling system, hall-scott type a horse-power engine.] the oiling system of the hall-scott type a- horse-power engine is clearly shown at fig. . it is completely described in the instruction book issued by the company from which the following extracts are reproduced by permission. crank-shaft, connecting rods and all other parts within the crank-case and cylinders are lubricated directly or indirectly by a force-feed oiling system. the cylinder walls and wrist pins are lubricated by oil spray thrown from the lower end of connecting rod bearings. this system is used only upon a- engines. upon a- a and a- a engines a small tube supplies oil from connecting rod bearing directly upon the wrist pin. the oil is drawn from the strainer located at the lowest portion of the lower crank-case, forced around the main intake manifold oil jacket. from here it is circulated to the main distributing pipe located along the lower left hand side of upper crank-case. the oil is then forced directly to the lower side of crank-shaft, through holes drilled in each main bearing cup. leakage from these main bearings is caught in scuppers placed upon the cheeks of the crank-shafts furnishing oil under pressure to the connecting rod bearings. a- a and a- a engines have small tubes leading from these bearings which convey the oil under pressure to the wrist pins. a bi-pass located at the front end of the distributing oil pipe can be regulated to lessen or raise the pressure. by screwing the valve in, the pressure will raise and more oil will be forced to the bearings. by unscrewing, pressure is reduced and less oil is fed. a- a and a- a engines have oil relief valves located just off of the main oil pump in the lower crank-case. this regulates the pressure at all times so that in cold weather there will be no danger of bursting oil pipes due to excessive pressure. if it is found the oil pressure is not maintained at a high enough level, inspect this valve. a stronger spring will not allow the oil to bi-pass so freely, and consequently the pressure will be raised; a weaker spring will bi-pass more oil and reduce the oil pressure materially. independent of the above-mentioned system, a small, directly driven rotary oiler feeds oil to the base of each individual cylinder. the supply of oil is furnished by the main oil pump located in the lower crank-case. a small sight-feed regulator is furnished to control the supply of oil from this oiler. this instrument should be placed higher than the auxiliary oil distributor itself to enable the oil to drain by gravity feed to the oiler. if there is no available place with the necessary height in the front seat of plane, connect it directly to the intake l fitting on the oiler in an upright position. it should be regulated with full open throttle to maintain an oil level in the glass, approximately half way. an oil pressure gauge is provided. this should be run to the pilot's instrument board. the gauge registers the oil pressure upon the bearings, also determining its circulation. strict watch should be maintained of this instrument by pilot, and if for any reason its hand should drop to the motor should be immediately stopped and the trouble found before restarting engine. care should be taken that the oil does not work up into the gauge, as it will prevent the correct gauge registering of oil pressure. the oil pressure will vary according to weather conditions and viscosity of oil used. in normal weather, with the engine properly warmed up, the pressure will register on the oil gauge from to pounds when the engine is turning from , to , r. p. m. this does not apply to all aviation engines, however, as the proper pressure advised for the curtiss ox- motor is from to pounds at the gauge. the oil sump plug is located at the lowest point of the lower crank-case. this is a combination dirt, water and sediment trap. it is easily removed by unscrewing. oil is furnished mechanically to the cam-shaft housing under pressure through a small tube leading from the main distributing pipe at the propeller end of engine directly into the end of cam-shaft housing. the opposite end of this housing is amply relieved to allow the oil to rapidly flow down upon cam-shaft, magneto, pinion-shaft, and crank-shaft gears, after which it returns to lower crank-case. an outside overflow pipe is also provided to carry away the surplus oil. draining oil from crank-case the oil strainer is placed at the lowest point of the lower crank-case. this strainer should be removed after every five to eight hours running of the engine and cleaned thoroughly with gasoline. it is also advisable to squirt distillate up into the case through the opening where the strainer has been removed. allow this distillate to drain out thoroughly before replacing the plug with strainer attached. be sure gasket is in place on plug before replacing. pour new oil in through either of the two breather pipes on exhaust side of motor. be sure to replace strainer screens if removed. if, through oversight, the engine does not receive sufficient lubrication and begins to heat or pound, it should be stopped immediately. after allowing engine to cool pour at least three gallons of oil into oil sump. fill radiator with water after engine has cooled. should there be apparent damage, the engine should be thoroughly inspected immediately without further running. if no obvious damage has been done, the engine should be given a careful examination at the earliest opportunity to see that the running without oil has not burned the bearings or caused other trouble. oils best adapted for hall-scott engines have the following properties: a flash test of not less than ° f.; viscosity of not less than to taken at ° f. with saybolt's universal viscosimeter. _zeroline heavy duty oil_, manufactured by the standard oil company of california; also, _gargoyle mobile b oil_, manufactured by the vacuum oil company, both fulfill the above specifications. one or the other of these oils can be obtained all over the world. monogram extra heavy is also recommended. oil supply by constant level splash system the splash system of lubrication that depends on the connecting rod to distribute the lubricant is one of the most successful and simplest forms for simple four- and six-cylinder vertical automobile engines, but is not as well adapted to the oiling of airplane power plants for reasons previously stated. if too much oil is supplied the surplus will work past the piston rings and into the combustion chamber, where it will burn and cause carbon deposits. too much oil will also cause an engine to smoke and an excess of lubricating oil is usually manifested by a bluish-white smoke issuing from the exhaust. a good method of maintaining a constant level of oil for the successful application of the splash system is shown at fig. . the engine base casting includes a separate chamber which serves as an oil container and which is below the level of oil in the crank-case. the lubricant is drawn from the sump or oil container by means of a positive oil pump which discharges directly into the engine case. the level is maintained by an overflow pipe which allows all excess lubricant to flow back into the oil container at the bottom of the cylinder. before passing into the pump again the oil is strained or filtered by a screen of wire gauze and all foreign matter removed. owing to the rapid circulation of the oil it may be used over and over again for quite a period of time. the oil is introduced directly into the crank-case by a breather pipe and the level is indicated by a rod carried by a float which rises when the container is replenished and falls when the available supply diminishes. it will be noted that with such system the only apparatus required besides the oil tank which is cast integral with the bottom of the crank-case is a suitable pump to maintain circulation of oil. this member is always positively driven, either by means of shaft and universal coupling or direct gearing. as the system is entirely automatic in action, it will furnish a positive supply of oil at all desired points, and it cannot be tampered with by the inexpert because no adjustments are provided or needed. dry crank-case system best for airplane engines [illustration: fig. .--sectional view of typical motor showing parts needing lubrication and method of applying oil by constant level splash system. note also water jacket and spaces for water circulation.] in most airplane power plants it is considered desirable to supply the oil directly to the parts needing it by suitable leads instead of depending solely upon the distributing action of scoops on the connecting rod big ends. a system of this nature is shown at fig. . the oil is carried in the crank-case, as is common practice, but the normal oil level is below the point where it will be reached by the connecting rod. it is drawn from the crank-case by a plunger pump which directs it to a manifold leading directly to conductors which supply the main journals. after the oil has been used on these points it drains back into the bottom of the crank-case. an excess is provided which is supplied to the connecting rod ends by passages drilled into the webs of the crank-shaft and part way into the crank-pins as shown by the dotted lines. the oil which is present at the connecting rod crank-pins is thrown off by centrifugal force and lubricates the cylinder walls and other internal parts. regulating screws are provided so that the amount of oil supplied the different points may be regulated at will. a relief check valve is installed to take care of excess lubricant and to allow any oil that does not pass back into the pipe line to overflow or bi-pass into the main container. [illustration: fig. .--pressure feed oil-supply system of airplane power plants has many good features.] a simple system of this nature is shown graphically in a phantom view of the crank-case at fig. , in which the oil passages are made specially prominent. the oil is taken from a reservoir at the bottom of the engine base by the usual form of gear oil pump and is supplied to a main feed manifold which extends the length of the crank-case. individual conductors lead to the five main bearings, which in turn supply the crank-pins by passages drilled through the crank-shaft web. in this power plant the connecting rods are hollow section bronze castings and the passage through the center of the connecting rod serves to convey the lubricant from the crank-pins to the wrist-pins. the cylinder walls are oiled by the spray of lubricant thrown off the revolving crank-shaft by centrifugal force. oil projection by the dippers on the connecting rod ends from constant level troughs is unequal upon the cylinder walls of the two-cylinder blocks of an eight- or twelve-cylinder v engine. this gives rise, on one side of the engine, to under-lubrication, and, on the other side, to over-lubrication, as shown at fig. , a. this applies to all modifications of splash lubricating systems. when a force-feed lubricating system is used, the oil, escaping past the cheeks of both ends of the crank-pin bearings, is thrown off at a tangent to the crank-pin circle in all directions, supplying the cylinders on both sides with an equal quantity of oil, as at fig. , b. why cooling systems are necessary the reader should understand from preceding chapters that the power of an internal-combustion motor is obtained by the rapid combustion and consequent expansion of some inflammable gas. the operation in brief is that when air or any other gas or vapor is heated, it will expand and that if this gas is confined in a space which will not permit expansion, pressure will be exerted against all sides of the containing chamber. the more a gas is heated, the more pressure it will exert upon the walls of the combustion chamber it confines. pressure in a gas may be created by increasing its temperature and inversely heat may be created by pressure. when a gas is compressed its total volume is reduced and the temperature is augmented. [illustration: fig. .--why pressure feed system is best for eight-cylinder vee airplane engines.] the efficiency of any form of heat engine is determined by the power obtained from a certain fuel consumption. a definite amount of energy will be liberated in the form of heat when a pound of any fuel is burned. the efficiency of any heat engine is proportional to the power developed from a definite quantity of fuel with the least loss of thermal units. if the greater proportion of the heat units derived by burning the explosive mixture could be utilized in doing useful work, the efficiency of the gasoline engine would be greater than that of any other form of energizing power. there is a great loss of heat from various causes, among which can be cited the reduction of pressure through cooling the motor and the loss of heat through the exhaust valves when the burned gases are expelled from the cylinder. the loss through the water jacket of the average automobile power plant is over per cent. of the total fuel efficiency. this means that more than half of the heat units available for power are absorbed and dissipated by the cooling water. another per cent. is lost through the exhaust valve, and but - / per cent. of the heat units do useful work. the great loss of heat through the cooling systems cannot be avoided, as some method must be provided to keep the temperature of the engine within proper bounds. it is apparent that the rapid combustion and continued series of explosions would soon heat the metal portions of the engine to a red heat if some means were not taken to conduct much of this heat away. the high temperature of the parts would burn the lubricating oil, even that of the best quality, and the piston and rings would expand to such a degree, especially when deprived of oil, that they would seize in the cylinder. this would score the walls, and the friction which ensued would tend to bind the parts so tightly that the piston would stick, bearings would be burned out, the valves would warp, and the engine would soon become inoperative. [illustration: fig. .--operating temperatures of automobile engine parts useful as a guide to understand airplane power plant heat.] the best temperature to secure efficient operation is one on which considerable difference of opinion exists among engineers. the fact that the efficiency of an engine is dependent upon the ratio of heat converted into useful work compared to that generated by the explosion of the gas is an accepted fact. it is very important that the engine should not get too hot, and on the other hand it is equally vital that the cylinders be not robbed of too much heat. the object of cylinder cooling is to keep the temperature of the cylinder below the danger point, but at the same time to have it as high as possible to secure maximum power from the gas burned. the usual operating temperatures of an automobile engine are shown at fig. , and this can be taken as an approximation of the temperatures apt to exist in an airplane engine of conventional design as well when at ground level or not very high in the air. the newer very high compression airplane engines in which compressions of eight or nine atmospheres are used, or about pounds per square inch, will run considerably hotter than the temperatures indicated. cooling systems generally applied there are two general systems of engine cooling in common use, that in which water is heated by the absorption of heat from the engine and then cooled by air, and the other method in which the air is directed onto the cylinder and absorbs the heat directly instead of through the medium of water. when the liquid is employed in cooling it is circulated through jackets which surround the cylinder casting and the water may be kept in motion by two methods. the one generally favored is to use a positive circulating pump of some form which is driven by the engine to keep the water in motion. the other system is to utilize a natural principle that heated water is lighter than cold liquid and that it will tend to rise to the top of the cylinder when it becomes heated to the proper temperature and cooled water takes its place at the bottom of the water jacket. air-cooling methods may be by radiation or convection. in the former case the effective outer surface of the cylinder is increased by the addition of flanges machined or cast thereon, and the air is depended on to rise from the cylinder as heated and be replaced by cooler air. this, of course, is found only on stationary engines. when a positive air draught is directed against the cylinder by means of the propeller slip stream in an airplane, cooling is by convection and radiation both. sometimes the air draught may be directed against the cylinder walls by some form of jacket which confines it to the heated portions of the cylinder. cooling by positive water circulation [illustration: fig. .--water cooling of salmson seven-cylinder radial airplane engine.] a typical water-cooling system in which a pump is depended upon to promote circulation of the cooling liquid is shown at figs. and . the radiator is carried at the front end of the fuselage in most cases, and serves as a combined water tank and cooler, but in some cases it is carried at the side of the engine, as in fig. , or attached to the central portion of the aerofoil or wing structure. it is composed of an upper and lower portion joined together by a series of pipes which may be round and provided with a series of fins to radiate the heat, or which may be flat in order to have the water pass through in thin sheets and cool it more easily. cellular or honeycomb coolers are composed of a large number of bent tubes which will expose a large area of surface to the cooling influence of the air draught forced through the radiator either by the forward movement of the vehicle or by some type of fan. the cellular and flat tube types have almost entirely displaced the flange tube radiators which were formerly popular because they cool the water more effectively, and may be made lighter than the tubular radiator could be for engines of the same capacity. [illustration: fig. .--how water cooling system of thomas airplane engine is installed in fuselage.] the water is drawn from the lower header of the radiator by the pump and is forced through a manifold to the lower portion of the water jackets of the cylinder. it becomes heated as it passes around the cylinder walls and combustion chambers and the hot water passes out of the top of the water jacket to the upper portion of the radiator. here it is divided in thin streams and directed against comparatively cool metal which abstracts the heat from the water. as it becomes cooler it falls to the bottom of the radiator because its weight increases as the temperature becomes lower. by the time it reaches the lower tank of the radiator it has been cooled sufficiently so that it may be again passed around the cylinders of the motor. the popular form of circulating pump is known as the "centrifugal type" because a rotary impeller of paddle-wheel form throws water which it receives at a central point toward the outside and thus causes it to maintain a definite rate of circulation. the pump is always a separate appliance attached to the engine and driven by positive gearing or direct-shaft connection. the centrifugal pump is not as positive as the gear form, and some manufacturers prefer the latter because of the positive pumping features. they are very simple in form, consisting of a suitable cast body in which a pair of spur pinions having large teeth are carried. one of these gears is driven by suitable means, and as it turns the other member they maintain a flow of water around the pump body. the pump should always be installed in series with the water pipe which conveys the cool liquid from the lower compartment of the radiator to the coolest portion of the water jacket. [illustration: fig. .--finned tube radiators at the side of hall-scott airplane power plant installed in standard fuselage.] water circulation by natural system some automobile engineers contend that the rapid water circulation obtained by using a pump may cool the cylinders too much, and that the temperature of the engine may be reduced so much that the efficiency will be lessened. for this reason there is a growing tendency to use the natural method of water circulation as the cooling liquid is supplied to the cylinder jackets just below the boiling point and the water issues from the jacket at the top of the cylinder after it has absorbed sufficient heat to raise it just about to the boiling point. as the water becomes heated by contact with the hot cylinder and combustion-chamber walls it rises to the top of the water jacket, flows to the cooler, where enough of the heat is absorbed to cause it to become sensibly greater in weight. as the water becomes cooler, it falls to the bottom of the radiator and it is again supplied to the water jacket. the circulation is entirely automatic and continues as long as there is a difference in temperature between the liquid in the water spaces of the engine and that in the cooler. the circulation becomes brisker as the engine becomes hotter and thus the temperature of the cylinders is kept more nearly to a fixed point. with the thermosyphon system the cooling liquid is nearly always at its boiling point, whereas if the circulation is maintained by a pump the engine will become cooler at high speed and will heat up more at low speed. with the thermosyphon, or natural system of cooling, more water must be carried than with the pump-maintained circulation methods. the water spaces around the cylinders should be larger, the inlet and discharge water manifolds should have greater capacity, and be free from sharp corners which might impede the flow. the radiator must also carry more water than the form used in connection with the pump because of the brisker pump circulation which maintains the engine temperature at a lower point. consideration of the above will show why the pump system is almost universally used in connection with airplane power plant cooling. direct air-cooling methods the earliest known method of cooling the cylinder of gas-engines was by means of a current of air passed through a jacket which confined it close to the cylinder walls and was used by daimler on his first gas-engine. the gasoline engine of that time was not as efficient as the later form, and other conditions which materialized made it desirable to cool the engine by water. even as gasoline engines became more and more perfected there has always existed a prejudice against air cooling, though many forms of engines have been used, both in automobile and aircraft applications where the air-cooling method has proven to be very practical. the simplest system of air cooling is that in which the cylinders are provided with a series of flanges which increase the effective radiating surface of the cylinder and directing an air-current from a fan against the flanges to absorb the heat. this increase in the available radiating surface of an air-cooled cylinder is necessary because air does not absorb heat as readily as water and therefore more surface must be provided that the excess heat be absorbed sufficiently fast to prevent distortion of the cylinders. air-cooling systems are based on a law formulated by newton, which is: "the rate for cooling for a body in a uniform current of air is directly proportional to the speed of the air current and the amount of radiating surface exposed to the cooling effect." air-cooled engine design considerations [illustration: fig. .--anzani testing his five-cylinder air cooled aviation motor installed in bleriot monoplane. note exposure of flanged cylinders to propeller slip stream.] there are certain considerations which must be taken into account in designing an air-cooled engine, which are often overlooked in those forms cooled by water. large valves must be provided to insure rapid expulsion of the flaming exhaust gas and also to admit promptly the fresh cool mixture from the carburetor. the valves of air-cooled engines are usually placed in the cylinder-head, in order to eliminate any pockets or sharp passages which would impede the flow of gas or retain some of the products of combustion and their heat. when high power is desired multiple-cylinder engines should be used, as there is a certain limit to the size of a successful air-cooled cylinder. much better results are secured from those having small cubical contents because the heat from small quantities of gas will be more quickly carried off than from greater amounts. all successful engines of the aviation type which have been air-cooled have been of the multiple-cylinder type. an air-cooled engine must be placed in the fuselage, as at fig. , in such a way that there will be a positive circulation of air around it all the time that it is in operation. the air current may be produced by the tractor screw at the front end of the motor, or by a suction or blower fan attached to the crank-shaft as in the renault engine or by rotating the cylinders as in the le rhone and gnome motors. greater care is required in lubrication of the air-cooled cylinders and only the best quality of oil should be used to insure satisfactory oiling. the combustion chambers must be proportioned so that distribution of metal is as uniform as possible in order to prevent uneven expansion during increase in temperature and uneven contraction when the cylinder is cooled. it is essential that the inside walls of the combustion chamber be as smooth as possible because any sharp angle or projection may absorb sufficient heat to remain incandescent and cause trouble by igniting the mixture before the proper time. the best grades of cast iron or steel should be used in the cylinder and piston and the machine work must be done very accurately so the piston will operate with minimum friction in the cylinder. the cylinder bore should not exceed - / or inches and the compression pressure should never exceed pounds absolute, or about five atmospheres, or serious overheating will result. as an example of the care taken in disposing of the exhaust gases in order to obtain practical air-cooling, some cylinders are provided with a series of auxiliary exhaust ports uncovered by the piston when it reaches the end of its power stroke. the auxiliary exhaust ports open just as soon as the full force of the explosion has been spent and a portion of the flaming gases is discharged through the ports in the bottom of the cylinder. less of the exhaust gases remains to be discharged through the regular exhaust member in the cylinder-head and this will not heat the walls of the cylinder nearly as much as the larger quantity of hot gas would. that the auxiliary exhaust port is of considerable value is conceded by many designers of fixed and fan-shaped air-cooled motors for airplanes. among the advantages stated for direct air cooling, the greatest is the elimination of cooling water and its cooling auxiliaries, which is a factor of some moment, as it permits considerable reduction in horse-power-weight ratio of the engine, something very much to be desired. in the temperate zone, where the majority of airplanes are used, the weather conditions change in a very few months from the warm summer to the extreme cold winter, and when water-cooled systems are employed it is necessary to add some chemical substance to the water to prevent it from freezing. the substances commonly employed are glycerine, wood alcohol, or a saturated solution of calcium chloride. alcohol has the disadvantage in that it vaporizes readily and must be often renewed. glycerine affects the rubber hose, while the calcium chloride solution crystallizes and deposits salt in the radiator and water pipes. one of the disadvantages of an air-cooling method, as stated by those who do not favor this system, is that engines cooled by air cannot be operated for extended periods under constant load or at very high speed without heating up to such a point that premature ignition of the charge may result. the water-cooling systems, at the other hand, maintain the temperature of the engine more nearly constant than is possible with an air-cooled motor, and an engine cooled by water can be operated under conditions of inferior lubrication or poor mixture adjustment that would seriously interfere with proper and efficient cooling by air. air-cooled motors, as a rule, use less fuel than water-cooled engines, because the higher temperature of the cylinder does not permit of a full charge of gas being inspired on the intake stroke. as special care is needed in operating an air-cooled engine to obtain satisfactory results and because of the greater difficulty which obtains in providing proper lubrication and fuel mixtures which will not produce undue heating, the air-cooled system has but few adherents at the present time, and practically all airplanes, with but very few exceptions, are provided with water-cooled power plants. those fitted with air-cooled engines are usually short-flight types where maximum lightness is desired in order to obtain high speed and quick climb. the water-cooled engines are best suited for airplanes intended for long flights. the gnome, le rhone and clerget engines are thoroughly practical and have been widely used in france and england. these are rotary radial cylinder types. the anzani is a fixed cylinder engine used on training machines, while the renault is a v-type engine made in eight- and twelve-cylinder v forms that has been used on reconnaissance and bombing airplanes with success. these types will be fully considered in proper sequence. chapter viii methods of cylinder construction--block castings--influence on crank-shaft design--combustion chamber design--bore and stroke ratio--meaning of piston speed--advantage of off-set cylinders-- valve location of vital import--valve installation practice-- valve design and construction--valve operation--methods of driving cam-shaft--valve springs--valve timing--blowing back-- lead given exhaust valve--exhaust closing, inlet opening-- closing the inlet valve--time of ignition--how an engine is timed--gnome "monosoupape" valve timing--springless valves--four valves per cylinder. the improvements noted in the modern internal combustion motors have been due to many conditions. the continual experimenting by leading mechanical minds could have but one ultimate result. the parts of the engines have been lightened and strengthened, and greater power has been obtained without increasing piston displacement. a careful study has been made of the many conditions which make for efficient motor action, and that the main principles are well recognized by all engineers is well shown by the standardization of design noted in modern power plants. there are many different methods of applying the same principle, and it will be the purpose of this chapter to define the ways in which the construction may be changed and still achieve the same results. the various components may exist in many different forms, and all have their advantages and disadvantages. that all methods are practical is best shown by the large number of successful engines which use radically different designs. methods of cylinder construction one of the most important parts of the gasoline engine and one that has material bearing upon its efficiency is the cylinder unit. the cylinders may be cast individually, or in pairs, and it is possible to make all cylinders a unit or block casting. some typical methods of cylinder construction are shown in accompanying illustrations. the appearance of individual cylinder castings may be ascertained by examination of the hall-scott airplane engine. air-cooled engine cylinders are always of the individual pattern. considered from a purely theoretical point of view, the individual cylinder casting has much in its favor. it is advanced that more uniform cooling is possible than where the cylinders are cast either in pairs or three or four in one casting. more uniform cooling insures that the expansion or change of form due to heating will be more equal. this is an important condition because the cylinder bore must remain true under all conditions of operation. if the heating effect is not uniform, which condition is liable to obtain if metal is not evenly distributed, the cylinder may become distorted by heat and the bore be out of truth. when separate cylinders are used it is possible to make a uniform water space and have the cooling liquid evenly distributed around the cylinder. in multiple cylinder castings this is not always the rule, as in many instances, especially in four-cylinder block motors where compactness is the main feature, there is but little space between the cylinders for the passage of water. under such circumstances the cooling effect is not even, and the stresses which obtain because of unequal expansion may distort the cylinder to some extent. when steel cylinders are made from forgings, the water jackets are usually of copper or sheet steel attached to the forging by autogenous welding; in the case of the latter and, in some cases, the former may be electro-deposited on the cylinders. block castings [illustration: fig. .--views of four-cylinder duesenberg airplane engine cylinder block.] the advantage of casting the cylinders in blocks is that a motor may be much shorter than it would be if individual castings were used. it is admitted that when the cylinders are cast together a more compact, rigid, and stronger power plant is obtained than when cast separately. there is a disadvantage, however, in that if one cylinder becomes damaged it will be necessary to replace the entire unit, which means scrapping three good cylinders because one of the four has failed. when the cylinders are cast separately one need only replace the one that has become damaged. the casting of four cylinders in one unit is made possible by improved foundry methods, and when proper provision is made for holding the cores when the metal is poured and the cylinder casts are good, the construction is one of distinct merit. it is sometimes the case that the proportion of sound castings is less when cylinders are cast in block, but if the proper precautions are observed in molding and the proper mixtures of cast iron used, the ratio of defective castings is no more than when cylinders are molded individually. as an example of the courage of engineers in departing from old-established rules, the cylinder casting shown at fig. may be considered typical. this is used on the duesenberg four-cylinder sixteen-valve - / " × " engine which has a piston displacement of cu. in. at a speed of , r.p.m., corresponding to a piston speed of , ft. per min., the engine is guaranteed to develop horse-power. the weight of the model engine without gear reduction is lbs., but a number of refinements have been made in the design whereby it is expected to get the weight down to lbs. the four cylinders are cast from semi-steel in a single block, with integral heads. the cylinder construction is the same as that which has always been used by mr. duesenberg, inlet and exhaust valves being arranged horizontally opposite each other in the head. there are large openings in the water jacket at both sides and at the ends, which are closed by means of aluminum covers, water-tightness being secured by the use of gaskets. this results in a saving in weight because the aluminum covers can be made considerably lighter than it would be possible to cast the jacket walls, and, besides, it permits of obtaining a more nearly uniform thickness of cylinder wall, as the cores can be much better supported. the cooling water passes completely around each cylinder, and there is a very considerable space between the two central cylinders, this being made necessary in order to get the large bearing area desirable for the central bearing. it is common practice to cast the water jackets integral with the cylinders, if cast iron or aluminum is used, and this is also the most economical method of applying it because it gives good results in practice. an important detail is that the water spaces must be proportioned so that they are equal around the cylinders whether these members are cast individually, in pairs, threes or fours. when cylinders are cast in block form it is good practice to leave a large opening in the jacket wall which will assist in supporting the core and make for uniform water space. it will be noticed that the casting shown at fig. has a large opening in the side of the cylinder block. these openings are closed after the interior of the casting is thoroughly cleaned of all sand, core wire, etc., by brass, cast iron or aluminum plates. these also have particular value in that they may be removed after the motor has been in use, thus permitting one to clean out the interior of the water jacket and dispose of the rust, sediment, and incrustation which are always present after the engine has been in active service for a time. among the advantages claimed for the practice of casting cylinders in blocks may be mentioned compactness, lightness, rigidity, simplicity of water piping, as well as permitting the use of simple forms of inlet and exhaust manifolds. the light weight is not only due to the reduction of the cylinder mass but because the block construction permits one to lighten the entire motor. the fact that all cylinders are cast together decreases vibration, and as the construction is very rigid, disalignment of working parts is practically eliminated. when inlet and exhaust manifolds are cored in the block casting, as is sometimes the case, but one joint is needed on each of these instead of the multiplicity of joints which obtain when the cylinders are individual castings. the water piping is also simplified. in the case of a four-cylinder block motor but two pipes are used; one for the water to enter the cylinder jacket, the other for the cooling liquid to discharge through. influence on crank-shaft design [illustration: fig. .--twin-cylinder block of sturtevant airplane engine is cast of aluminum, and has removable cylinder head.] the method of casting the cylinders has a material influence on the design of the crank-shaft as will be shown in proper sequence. when four cylinders are combined in one block it is possible to use a two-bearing crank-shaft. where cylinders are cast in pairs a three-bearing crank-shaft is commonly supplied, and when cylinders are cast as individual units it is thought necessary to supply a five-bearing crank-shaft, though sometimes shafts having but three journals are used successfully. obviously the shafts must be stronger and stiffer to withstand the stresses imposed if two supporting bearings are used than if a larger number are employed. in this connection it may be stated that there is less difficulty in securing alignment with a lesser number of bearings and there is also less friction. on the other hand, the greater the number of points of support a crank-shaft has the lighter the webs can be made and still have requisite strength. combustion chamber design [illustration: fig. .--aluminum cylinder pair casting of thomas horse-power airplane engine is of the l head type.] another point of importance in the design of the cylinder, and one which has considerable influence upon the power developed, is the shape of the combustion chamber. the endeavor of designers is to obtain maximum power from a cylinder of certain proportions, and the greater energy obtained without increasing piston displacement or fuel consumption the higher the efficiency of the motor. to prevent troubles due to pre-ignition it is necessary that the combustion chamber be made so that there will be no roughness, sharp corners, or edges of metal which may remain incandescent when heated or which will serve to collect carbon deposits by providing a point of anchorage. with the object of providing an absolutely clean combustion chamber some makers use a separable head unit to their twin cylinder castings, such as shown at fig. and fig. . these permit one to machine the entire interior of the cylinder and combustion chamber. the relation of valve location and combustion chamber design will be considered in proper sequence. these cylinders are cast of aluminum, instead of cast iron, as is customary, and are provided with steel or cast iron cylinder liners forced in the soft metal casting bores. bore and stroke ratio a question that has been a vexed one and which has been the subject of considerable controversy is the proper proportion of the bore to the stroke. the early gas engines had a certain well-defined bore to stroke ratio, as it was usual at that time to make the stroke twice as long as the bore was wide, but this cannot be done when high speed is desired. with the development of the present-day motor the stroke or piston travel has been gradually shortened so that the relative proportions of bore and stroke have become nearly equal. of late there seems to be a tendency among designers to return to the proportions which formerly obtained, and the stroke is sometimes one and a half or one and three-quarter times the bore. engines designed for high speed should have the stroke not much longer than the diameter of the bore. the disadvantage of short-stroke engines is that they will not pull well at low speeds, though they run with great regularity and smoothness at high velocity. the long-stroke engine is much superior for slow speed work, and it will pull steadily and with increasing power at low speed. it was formerly thought that such engines should never turn more than a moderate number of revolutions, in order not to exceed the safe piston speed of , feet per minute. this old theory or rule of practice has been discarded in designing high efficiency automobile racing and aviation engines, and piston speeds from , to , feet per minute are sometimes used, though the average is around , feet per minute. while both short- and long-stroke motors have their advantages, it would seem desirable to average between the two. that is why a proportion of four to five or six seems to be more general than that of four to seven or eight, which would be a long-stroke ratio. careful analysis of a number of foreign aviation motors shows that the average stroke is about . times the bore dimensions, though some instances were noted where it was as high as . times the bore. meaning of piston speed the factor which limits the stroke and makes the speed of rotation so dependent upon the travel of the piston is piston speed. lubrication is the main factor which determines piston speed, and the higher the rate of piston travel the greater care must be taken to insure proper oiling. let us fully consider what is meant by piston speed. assume that a motor has a piston travel or stroke of six inches, for the sake of illustration. it would take two strokes of the piston to cover one foot, or twelve inches, and as there are two strokes to a revolution it will be seen that this permits of a normal speed of , revolutions per minute for an engine with a six-inch stroke, if one does not exceed , feet per minute. if the stroke was only four inches, a normal speed of , revolutions per minute would be possible without exceeding the prescribed limit. the crank-shaft of a small engine, having three-inch stroke, could turn at a speed of , revolutions per minute without danger of exceeding the safe speed limit. it will be seen that the longer the stroke the slower the speed of the engine, if one desires to keep the piston speed within the bounds as recommended, but modern practice allows of greatly exceeding the speeds formerly thought best. advantages of off-set cylinders [illustration: fig. .--cross section of austro-daimler engine, showing offset cylinder construction. note applied water jacket and peculiar valve action.] another point upon which considerable difference of opinion exists relates to the method of placing the cylinder upon the crank-case--i.e., whether its center line should be placed directly over the center of the crank-shaft, or to one side of center. the motor shown at fig. is an off-set type, in that the center line of the cylinder is a little to one side of the center of the crank-shaft. diagrams are presented at fig. which show the advantages of off-set crank-shaft construction. the view at a is a section through a simple motor with the conventional cylinder placing, the center line of both crank-shaft and cylinder coinciding. the view at b shows the cylinder placed to one side of center so that its center line is distinct from that of the crank-shaft and at some distance from it. the amount of off-set allowed is a point of contention, the usual amount being from fifteen to twenty-five per cent. of the stroke. the advantages of the off-set are shown at fig. , c. if the crank turns in direction of the arrow there is a certain resistance to motion which is proportional to the amount of energy exerted by the engine and the resistance offered by the load. there are two thrusts acting against the cylinder wall to be considered, that due to explosion or expansion of the gas, and that which resists the motion of the piston. these thrusts may be represented by arrows, one which acts directly in a vertical direction on the piston top, the other along a straight line through the center of the connecting rod. between these two thrusts one can draw a line representing a resultant force which serves to bring the piston in forcible contact with one side of the cylinder wall, this being known as side thrust. as shown at c, the crank-shaft is at degrees, or about one-half stroke, and the connecting rod is at degrees angle. the shorter connecting rod would increase the diagonal resultant and side thrusts, while a longer one would reduce the angle of the connecting rod and the side thrust of the piston would be less. with the off-set construction, as shown at d, it will be noticed that with the same connecting-rod length as shown at c and with the crank-shaft at degrees of the circle that the connecting-rod angle is degrees and the side thrust is reduced proportionately. [illustration: fig. .--diagrams demonstrating advantages of offset crank-shaft construction.] another important advantage is that greater efficiency is obtained from the explosion with an off-set crank-shaft, because the crank is already inclined when the piston is at top center, and all the energy imparted to the piston by the burning mixture can be exerted directly into producing a useful turning effort. when a cylinder is placed directly on a line with the crank-shaft, as shown at a, it will be evident that some of the force produced by the expansion of the gas will be exerted in a direct line and until the crank moves the crank throw and connecting rod are practically a solid member. the pressure which might be employed in obtaining useful turning effort is wasted by causing a direct pressure upon the lower half of the main bearing and the upper half of the crank-pin bushing. very good and easily understood illustrations showing advantages of the off-set construction are shown at e and f. this is a bicycle crank-hanger. it is advanced that the effort of the rider is not as well applied when the crank is at position e as when it is at position f. position e corresponds to the position of the parts when the cylinder is placed directly over the crank-shaft center. position f may be compared to the condition which is present when the off-set cylinder construction is used. valve location of vital import it has often been said that a chain is no stronger than its weakest link, and this is as true of the explosive motor as it is of any other piece of mechanism. many motors which appeared to be excellently designed and which were well constructed did not prove satisfactory because some minor detail or part had not been properly considered by the designer. a factor having material bearing upon the efficiency of the internal combustion motor is the location of the valves and the shape of the combustion chamber which is largely influenced by their placing. the fundamental consideration of valve design is that the gases be admitted and discharged from the cylinder as quickly as possible in order that the speed of gas flow will not be impeded and produce back pressure. this is imperative in obtaining satisfactory operation in any form of motor. if the inlet passages are constricted the cylinder will not fill with explosive mixture promptly, whereas if the exhaust gases are not fully expelled the parts of the inert products of combustion retained dilute the fresh charge, making it slow burning and causing lost power and overheating. when an engine employs water as a cooling medium this substance will absorb the surplus heat readily, and the effects of overheating are not noticed as quickly as when air-cooled cylinders are employed. valve sizes have a decided bearing upon the speed of motors and some valve locations permit the use of larger members than do other positions. while piston velocity is an important factor in determinations of power output, it must be considered from the aspect of the wear produced upon the various parts of the motor. it is evident that engines which run very fast, especially of high power, must be under a greater strain than those operating at lower speeds. the valve-operating mechanism is especially susceptible to the influence of rapid movement, and the slower the engine the longer the parts will wear and the more reliable the valve action. [illustration: fig. .--diagram showing forms of cylinder demanded by different valve placings. a--t head type, valves on opposite sides. b--l head cylinder, valves side by side. c--l head cylinder, one valve in head, other in pocket. d--inlet valve over exhaust member, both in side pocket. e--valve-in-the-head type with vertical valves. f--inclined valves placed to open directly into combustion chamber.] as will be seen by reference to the accompanying illustration, fig. , there are many ways in which valves may be placed in the cylinder. each method outlined possesses some point of advantage, because all of the types illustrated are used by reputable automobile manufacturers. the method outlined at fig. , a, is widely used, and because of its shape the cylinder is known as the "t" form. it is approved for automobile use for several reasons, the most important being that large valves can be employed and a well-balanced and symmetrical cylinder casting obtained. two independent cam-shafts are needed, one operating the inlet valves, the other the exhaust members. the valve-operating mechanism can be very simple in form, consisting of a plunger actuated by the cam which transmits the cam motion to the valve-stem, raising the valve as the cam follower rides on the point of the cam. piping may be placed without crowding, and larger manifolds can be fitted than in some other constructions. this has special value, as it permits the use of an adequate discharge pipe on the exhaust side with its obvious advantages. this method of cylinder construction is never found on airplane engines because it does not permit of maximum power output. on the other hand, if considered from a viewpoint of actual heat efficiency, it is theoretically the worst form of combustion chamber. this disadvantage is probably compensated for by uniformity of expansion of the cylinder because of balanced design. the ignition spark-plug may be located directly over the inlet valve in the path of the incoming fresh gases, and both valves may be easily removed and inspected by unscrewing the valve caps without taking off the manifolds. the valve installation shown at c is somewhat unusual, though it provides for the use of valves of large diameter. easy charging is insured because of the large inlet valve directly in the top of the cylinder. conditions may be reversed if necessary, and the gases discharged through this large valve. both methods are used, though it would seem that the free exhaust provided by allowing the gases to escape directly from the combustion chamber through the overhead valve to the exhaust manifold would make for more power. the method outlined at fig. , f and at fig. is one that has been widely employed on large automobile racing motors where extreme power is required, as well as in engines constructed for aviation service. the inclination of the valves permits the use of large valves, and these open directly into the combustion chamber. there are no pockets to retain heat or dead gas, and free intake and outlet of gas is obtained. this form is quite satisfactory from a theoretical point of view because of the almost ideal combustion chamber form. some difficulty is experienced, however, in properly water-jacketing the valve chamber which experience has shown to be necessary if the engine is to have high power. the motor shown at fig. , b and fig. employs cylinders of the "l" type. both valves are placed in a common extension from the combustion chamber, and being located side by side both are actuated from a common cam-shaft. the inlet and exhaust pipes may be placed on the same side of the engine and a very compact assemblage is obtained, though this is optional if passages are cored in the cylinder pairs to lead the gases to opposite sides. the valves may be easily removed if desired, and the construction is fairly good from the viewpoint of both foundry man and machinist. the chief disadvantage is the limited area of the valves and the loss of heat efficiency due to the pocket. this form of combustion chamber, however, is more efficient than the "t" head construction, though with the latter the use of larger valves probably compensates for the greater heat loss. it has been stated as an advantage of this construction that both manifolds can be placed at the same side of the engine and a compact assembly secured. on the other hand, the disadvantage may be cited that in order to put both pipes on the same side they must be of smaller size than can be used when the valves are oppositely placed. the "l" form cylinder is sometimes made more efficient if but one valve is placed in the pocket while the other is placed over it. this construction is well shown at fig. , d and is found on anzani motors. [illustration: fig. .--sectional view of engine cylinder showing valve and cage installation.] the method of valve application shown at fig. is an ingenious method of overcoming some of the disadvantages inherent with valve-in-the-head motors. in the first place it is possible to water-jacket the valves thoroughly, which is difficult to accomplish when they are mounted in cages. the water circulates directly around the walls of the valve chambers, which is superior to a construction where separate cages are used, as there are two thicknesses of metal with the latter, that of the valve-cage proper and the wall of the cylinder. the cooling medium is in contact only with the outer wall, and as there is always a loss of heat conductivity at a joint it is practically impossible to keep the exhaust valves and their seats at a uniform temperature. the valves may be of larger size without the use of pockets when seating directly in the head. in fact, they could be equal in diameter to almost half the bore of the cylinder, which provides an ideal condition of charge placement and exhaust. when valve grinding is necessary the entire head is easily removed by taking off six nuts and loosening inlet manifold connections, which operation would be necessary even if cages were employed, as in the engine shown at fig. . [illustration: fig. .--diagrams showing how gas enters cylinder through overhead valves and other types. a--tee head cylinder. b--l head cylinder. c--overhead valve.] [illustration: fig. .--conventional methods of operating internal combustion motor valves.] at fig. , a and b, a section through a typical "l"-shaped cylinder is depicted. it will be evident that where a pocket construction is employed, in addition to its faculty for absorbing heat, the passage of gas would be impeded. for example, the inlet gas rushing in through the open valve would impinge sharply upon the valve-cap or combustion head directly over the valve and then must turn at a sharp angle to enter the combustion chamber and then at another sharp angle to fill the cylinders. the same conditions apply to the exhaust gases, though they are reversed. when the valve-in-the-head type of cylinder is employed, as at c, the only resistance offered the gas is in the manifold. as far as the passage of the gases in and out of the cylinder is concerned, ideal conditions obtain. it is claimed that valve-in-the-head motors are more flexible and responsive than other forms, but the construction has the disadvantage in that the valves must be opened through a rather complicated system of push rods and rocker arms instead of the simpler and direct plunger which can be used with either the "t" or "l" head cylinders. this is clearly outlined in the illustrations at fig. , where a shows the valve in the head-operating mechanism necessary if the cam-shaft is carried at the cylinder base, while b shows the most direct push-rod action obtained with "t" or "l" head cylinder placing. [illustration: fig. .--examples of direct valve actuation by overhead cam-shaft. a--mercedes. b--hall-scott. c--wisconsin.] [illustration: fig. . censored] [illustration: fig. . censored] the objection can be easily met by carrying the cam-shaft above the cylinders and driving it by means of gearing. the types of engine cylinders using this construction are shown at fig. , and it will be evident that a positive and direct valve action is possible by following the construction originated by the mercedes (german) aviation engine designers and outlined at a. the other forms at b and c are very clearly adaptations of this design. the hall-scott engine at fig. is depicted in part section and no trouble will be experienced in understanding the bevel pinion and gear drive from the crank-shaft to the overhead cam-shaft through a vertical counter-shaft. a very direct valve action is used in the duesenberg engines, one of which is shown in part section at fig. . the valves are parallel with the piston top and are actuated by rocker arms, one end of which bears against the valve stem, and the other rides the cam-shaft. [illustration: fig. .--sectional views showing arrangement of novel concentric valve arrangement devised by panhard for aerial engines.] the form shown at fig. shows an ingenious application of the valve-in-the-head idea which permits one to obtain large valves. it has been used on some of the panhard aviation engines and on the american aeromarine power plants. the inlet passage is controlled by the sliding sleeve which is hollow and slotted so as to permit the inlet gases to enter the cylinder through the regular type poppet valve which seats in the exhaust sleeve. when the exhaust valve is operated by the tappet rod and rocker arm the intake valve is also carried down with it. the intake gas passage is closed, however, and the burned gases are discharged through the large annular passage surrounding the sleeve. when the inlet valve leaves its seat in the sleeve the passage of cool gas around the sleeve keeps the temperature of both valves to a low point and the danger of warping is minimized. a dome-shaped combustion chamber may be used, which is an ideal form in conserving heat efficiency, and as large valves may be installed the flow of both fresh and exhaust gases may be obtained with minimum resistance. the intake valve is opened by a small auxiliary rocker arm which is lifted when the cam follower rides into the depression in the cam by the action of the strong spring around the push rod. when the cam follower rides on the high point the exhaust sleeve is depressed from its seat against the cylinder. by using a cam having both positive and negative profiles, a single rod suffices for both valves because of its push and pull action. valve design and construction valve dimensions are an important detail to be considered and can be determined by several conditions, among which may be cited method of installation, operating mechanism, material employed, engine speed desired, manner of cylinder cooling and degree of lift desired. a review of various methods of valve location has shown that when the valves are placed directly in the head we can obtain the ideal cylinder form, though larger valves may be used if housed in a separate pocket, as afforded by the "t" head construction. the method of operation has much to do with the size of the valves. for example, if an automatic inlet valve is employed it is good practice to limit the lift and obtain the required area of port opening by augmenting the diameter. because of this a valve of the automatic type is usually made twenty per cent. larger than one mechanically operated. when both are actuated by cam mechanism, as is now common practice, they are usually made the same size and are interchangeable, which greatly simplifies manufacture. the relation of valve diameter to cylinder bore is one that has been discussed for some time by engineers. the writer's experience would indicate that they should be at least half the bore, if possible. while the mushroom type or poppet valve has become standard and is the most widely used form at the present time, there is some difference of opinion among designers as to the materials employed and the angle of the seat. most valves have a bevel seat, though some have a flat seating. the flat seat valve has the distinctive advantage of providing a clear opening with lesser lift, this conducing to free gas flow. it also has value because it is silent in operation, but the disadvantage is present that best material and workmanship must be used in their construction to obtain satisfactory results. as it can be made very light it is particularly well adapted for use as an automatic inlet valve. among other disadvantages cited is the claim that it is more susceptible to derangement, owing to the particles of foreign matter getting under the seat. with a bevel seat it is argued that the foreign matter would be more easily dislodged by the gas flow, and that the valve would close tighter because it is drawn positively against the bevel seat. several methods of valve construction are the vogue, the most popular form being the one-piece type; those which are composed of a head of one material and stem of another are seldom used in airplane engines because they are not reliable. in the built-up construction the head is usually of high nickel steel or cast iron, which metals possess good heat-resisting qualities. heads made of these materials are not likely to warp, scale, or pit, as is sometimes the case when ordinary grades of machinery steel are used. the cast-iron head construction is not popular because it is often difficult to keep the head tight on the stem. there is a slight difference in expansion ratio between the head and the stem, and as the stem is either screwed or riveted to the cast-iron head the constant hammering of the valve against its seat may loosen the joint. as soon as the head is loose on the stem the action of the valve becomes erratic. the best practice is to machine the valves from tungsten steel forgings. this material has splendid heat-resisting qualities and will not pit or become scored easily. even the electrically welded head to stem types which are used in automobile engines are not looked upon with favor in the aviation engine. valve stem guides and valve stems must be machined very accurately to insure correct action. the usual practice in automobile engines is shown at fig. . [illustration: fig. .--showing clearance allowed between valve stem and valve stem guide to secure free action.] valve operation the methods of valve operation commonly used vary according to the type of cylinder construction employed. in all cases the valves are lifted from their seats by cam-actuated mechanism. various forms of valve-lifting cams are shown at fig. . as will be seen, a cam consists of a circle to which a raised, approximately triangular member has been added at one point. when the cam follower rides on the circle, as shown at fig. , there is no difference in height between the cam center and its periphery and there is no movement of the plunger. as soon as the raised portion of the cam strikes the plunger it will lift it, and this reciprocating movement is transmitted to the valve stem by suitable mechanical connections. [illustration: fig. .--forms of valve-lifting cams generally employed. a--cam profile for long dwell and quick lift. b--typical inlet cam used with mushroom type follower. c--average form of cam. d--designed to give quick lift and gradual closing.] the cam forms outlined at fig. are those commonly used. that at a is used on engines where it is desired to obtain a quick lift and to keep the valve fully opened as long as possible. it is a noisy form, however, and is not very widely employed. that at b is utilized more often as an inlet cam while the profile shown at c is generally depended on to operate exhaust valves. the cam shown at d is a composite form which has some of the features of the other three types. it will give the quick opening of form a, the gradual closing of form b, and the time of maximum valve opening provided by cam profile c. [illustration: fig. .--showing principal types of cam followers which have received general application.] the various types of valve plungers used are shown at fig. . that shown at a is the simplest form, consisting of a simple cylindrical member having a rounded end which follows the cam profile. these are sometimes made of square stock or kept from rotating by means of a key or pin. a line contact is possible when the plunger is kept from turning, whereas but a single point bearing is obtained when the plunger is cylindrical and free to revolve. the plunger shown at a will follow only cam profiles which have gradual lifts. the plunger shown at b is left free to revolve in the guide bushing and is provided with a flat mushroom head which serves as a cam follower. the type shown at c carries a roller at its lower end and may follow very irregular cam profiles if abrupt lifts are desired. while forms a and b are the simplest, that outlined at c in its various forms is more widely used. compound plungers are used on the curtiss ox- motors, one inside the other. the small or inner one works on a cam of conventional design, the outer plunger follows a profile having a flat spot to permit of a pull rod action instead of a push rod action. all the methods in which levers are used to operate valves are more or less noisy because clearance must be left between the valve stem and the stop of the plunger. the space must be taken up before the valve will leave its seat, and when the engine is operated at high speeds the forcible contact between the plunger and valve stem produces a rattling sound until the valves become heated and expand and the stems lengthen out. clearance must be left between the valve stems and actuating means. this clearance is clearly shown in fig. and should be . " (twenty thousandths) when engine is cold. the amount of clearance allowed depends entirely upon the design of the engine and length of valve stem. on the curtiss ox- engines the clearance is but . " (ten thousandths) because the valve stems are shorter. too little clearance will result in loss of power or misfiring when engine is hot. too much clearance will not allow the valve to open its full amount and will disturb the timing. [illustration: fig. .--diagram showing proper clearance to allow between adjusting screw and valve stems in hall-scott aviation engines.] methods of driving cam-shaft two systems of cam-shaft operation are used. the most common of these is by means of gearing of some form. if the cam-shaft is at right angles to the crank-shaft it may be driven by worm, spiral, or bevel gearing. if the cam-shaft is parallel to the crank-shaft, simple spur gear or chain connection may be used to turn it. a typical cam-shaft for an eight-cylinder v engine is shown at fig. . it will be seen that the sixteen cams are forged integrally with the shaft and that it is spur-gear driven. the cam-shaft drive of the hall-scott motor is shown at fig. . [illustration: fig. .--cam-shaft of thomas airplane motor has cams forged integral. note split cam-shaft bearings and method of gear retention.] while gearing is more commonly used, considerable attention has been directed of late to silent chains for cam-shaft operation. the ordinary forms of block or roller chain have not proven successful in this application, but the silent chain, which is in reality a link belt operating over toothed pulleys, has demonstrated its worth. the tendency to its use is more noted on foreign motors than those of american design. it first came to public notice when employed on the daimler-knight engine for driving the small auxiliary crank-shafts which reciprocated the sleeve valves. the advantages cited for the application of chains are, first, silent operation, which obtains even after the chains have worn considerably; second, in designing it is not necessary to figure on maintaining certain absolute center distances between the crank-shaft and cam-shaft sprockets, as would be the case if conventional forms of gearing were used. on some forms of motor employing gears, three and even four members are needed to turn the cam-shaft. with a chain drive but two sprockets are necessary, the chain forming a flexible connection which permits the driving and driven members to be placed at any distance apart that the exigencies of the design demand. when chains are used it is advised that some means for compensating chain slack be provided, or the valve timing will lag when chains are worn. many combination drives may be worked out with chains that would not be possible with other forms of gearing. direct gear drive is favored at the present time by airplane engine designers because they are the most certain and positive means, even when a number of gears must be used as intermediate drive members. with overhead cam-shafts, bevel gears work out very well in practice, as in the hall-scott motors and others of that type. valve springs [illustration: fig. .--section through cylinder of knight motor, showing important parts of valve motion.] another consideration of importance is the use of proper valve-springs, and particular care should be taken with those, of automatic valves. the spring must be weak enough to allow the valve to open when the suction is light, and must be of sufficient strength to close it in time at high speeds. it should be made as large as possible in diameter and with a large number of convolutions, in order that fatigue of the metal be obviated, and it is imperative that all springs be of the same strength when used on a multiple-cylinder engine. practically all valves used to control the gas flow in airplane engines are mechanically operated. on the exhaust valve the spring must be strong enough so that the valve will not be sucked in on the inlet stroke. it should be borne in mind that if the spring is too strong a strain will be imposed on the valve-operating mechanism, and a hammering action produced which may cause deformation of the valve-seat. only pressure enough to insure that the operating mechanism will follow the cam is required. it is common practice to make the inlet and exhaust valve springs of the same tension when the valves are of the same size and both mechanically operated. this is done merely to simplify manufacture and not because it is necessary for the inlet valve-spring to be as strong as the other. valve springs of the helical coil type are generally used, though torsion or "scissors" springs and laminated or single-leaf springs are also utilized in special applications. two springs are used on each valve in some valve-in-the-head types; a spring of small pitch diameter inside the regular valve-spring and concentric with it. its function is to keep the valve from falling into the cylinder in event of breakage of the main spring in some cases, and to provide a stronger return action in others. [illustration: fig. .--diagrams showing knight sleeve valve action.] knight slide valve motor the sectional view through the cylinder at fig. shows the knight sliding sleeves and their actuating means very clearly. the diagrams at fig. show graphically the sleeve movements and their relation to the crank-shaft and piston travel. the action may be summed up as follows: the inlet port begins to open when the lower edge of the opening of the outside sleeve which is moving down passes the top of the slot in the inner member also moving downwardly. the inlet port is closed when the lower edge of the slot in the inner sleeve which is moving up passes the top edge of the port in the outer sleeve which is also moving toward the top of the cylinder. the inlet opening extends over two hundred degrees of crank motion. the exhaust port is uncovered slightly when the lower edge of the port in the inner sleeve which is moving down passes the lower edge of the portion of the cylinder head which protrudes in the cylinder. when the top of the port in the outer sleeve traveling toward the bottom of the cylinder passes the lower edge of the slot in the cylinder wall the exhaust passage is closed. the exhaust opening extends over a period corresponding to about two hundred and forty degrees of crank motion. the knight motor has not been applied to aircraft to the writer's knowledge, but an eight-cylinder vee design that might be useful in that connection if lightened is shown at fig. . the main object is to show that the knight valve action is the only other besides the mushroom or poppet valve that has been applied successfully to high speed gasoline engines. valve timing it is in valve timing that the greatest difference of opinion prevails among engineers, and it is rare that one will see the same formula in different motors. it is true that the same timing could not be used with motors of different construction, as there are many factors which determine the amount of lead to be given to the valves. the most important of these is the relative size of the valve to the cylinder bore, the speed of rotation it is desired to obtain, the fuel efficiency, the location of the valves, and other factors too numerous to mention. [illustration: fig. .--cross sectional view of knight type eight cylinder v engine.] most of the readers should be familiar with the cycle of operation of the internal combustion motor of the four-stroke type, and it seems unnecessary to go into detail except to present a review. the first stroke of the piston is one in which a charge of gas is taken into the motor; the second stroke, which is in reverse direction to the first, is a compression stroke, at the end of which the spark takes place, exploding the charge and driving the piston down on the third or expansion stroke, which is in the same direction as the intake stroke, and finally, after the piston has nearly reached the end of this stroke, another valve opens to allow the burned gases to escape, and remains open until the piston has reached the end of the fourth stroke and is in a position to begin the series over again. the ends of the strokes are reached when the piston comes to a stop at either top or bottom of the cylinder and reverses its motion. that point is known as a center, and there are two for each cylinder, top and bottom centers, respectively. all circles may be divided into parts, each of which is known as a degree, and, in turn, each of these degrees may be again divided into minutes and seconds, though we need not concern ourselves with anything less than the degree. each stroke of the piston represents degrees travel of the crank, because two strokes represent one complete revolution of three hundred and sixty degrees. the top and bottom centers are therefore separated by degrees. theoretically each phase of a four-cycle engine begins and ends at a center, though in actual practice the inertia or movement of the gases makes it necessary to allow a lead or lag to the valve, as the case may be. if a valve opens before a center, the distance is called "lead"; if it closes after a center, this distance is known as "lag." the profile of the cams ordinarily used to open or close the valves represents a considerable time in relation to the degrees of the crank-shaft travel, and the area of the passages through which the gases are admitted or exhausted is quite small owing to the necessity of having to open or close the valves at stated times; therefore, to open an adequately large passage for the gases it is necessary to open the valves earlier and close them later than at centers. that advancing the opening of the exhaust valve was of value was discovered on the early motors and is explained by the necessity of releasing a large amount of gas, the volume of which has been greatly raised by the heat of combustion. when the inlet valves were mechanically operated it was found that allowing them to lag at closing enabled the inspiration of a greater volume of gas. disregarding the inertia or flow of the gases, opening the exhaust at center would enable one to obtain full value of the expanding gases the entire length of the piston stroke, and it would not be necessary to keep the valve open after the top center, as the reverse stroke would produce a suction effect which might draw some of the inert charge back into the cylinder. on the other hand, giving full consideration to the inertia of the gas, opening the valve before center is reached will provide for quick expulsion of the gases, which have sufficient velocity at the end of the stroke, so that if the valve is allowed to remain open a little longer, the amount of lag varying with the opinions of the designer, the cylinder is cleared in a more thorough manner. blowing back when the factor of retarded opening is considered without reckoning the inertia of the gases, it would appear that if the valve were allowed to remain open after center had passed, say, on the closing of the inlet, the piston, having reversed its motion, would have the effect of expelling part of the fresh charge through the still open valve as it passed inward at its compression stroke. this effect is called blowing back, and is often noted with motors where the valve settings are not absolutely correct, or where the valve-springs or seats are defective and prevent proper closing. this factor is not of as much import as might appear, as on closer consideration it will be seen that the movement of the piston as the crank reaches either end of the stroke is less per degree of angular movement than it is when the angle of the connecting rod is greater. then, again, a certain length of time is required for the reversal of motion of the piston, during which time the crank is in motion but the piston practically at a standstill. if the valves are allowed to remain open during this period, the passage of the gas in or out of the cylinder will be by its own momentum. lead given exhaust valve the faster a motor turns, all other things being equal, the greater the amount of lead or advance it is necessary to give the opening of the exhaust valve. it is self-evident truth that if the speed of a motor is doubled it travels twice as many degrees in the time necessary to lower the pressure. as most designers are cognizant of this fact, the valves are proportioned accordingly. it is well to consider in this respect that the cam profile has much to do with the manner in which the valve is opened; that is, the lift may be abrupt and the gas allowed to escape in a body, or the opening may be gradual, the gas issuing from the cylinder in thin streams. an analogy may be made with the opening of any bottle which contains liquid highly carbonated. if the cork is removed suddenly the gas escapes with a loud pop, but, on the other hand, if the bottle is uncorked gradually, the gas escapes from the receptacle in thin streams around the cork, and passage of the gases to the air is accomplished without noise. while the second plan is not harsh, it is slower than the former, as must be evident. exhaust closing, inlet opening a point which has been much discussed by engineers is the proper relation of the closing of the exhaust valve and the opening of the inlet. theoretically they should succeed each other, the exhaust closing at upper dead center and the inlet opening immediately afterward. the reason why a certain amount of lag is given the exhaust closing in practice is that the piston cannot drive the gases out of the cylinder unless they are compressed to a degree in excess of that existing in the manifold or passages, and while toward the end of the stroke this pressure may be feeble, it is nevertheless indispensable. at the end of the piston's stroke, as marked by the upper dead center, this compression still exists, no matter how little it may be, so that if the exhaust valve is closed and the inlet opened immediately afterward, the pressure which exists in the cylinder may retard the entrance of the fresh gas and a certain portion of the inert gas may penetrate into the manifold. as the piston immediately begins to aspirate, this may not be serious, but as these gases are drawn back into the cylinder the fresh charge will be diluted and weakened in value. if the spark-plug is in a pocket, the points may be surrounded by this weak gas, and the explosion will not be nearly as energetic as when the ignition spark takes place in pure mixture. it is a well-known fact that the exhaust valve should close after dead center and that a certain amount of lag should be given to opening of the inlet. the lag given the closing of the exhaust valve should not be as great as that given the closing of the inlet valve. assuming that the excess pressure of the exhaust will equal the depression during aspiration, the time necessary to complete the emptying of the cylinder will be proportional to the volume of the gas within it. at the end of the suction stroke the volume of gas contained in the cylinder is equal to the cylindrical volume plus the space of the combustion chamber. at the end of the exhaust stroke the volume is but that of the dead space, and from one-third to one-fifth its volume before compression. while it is natural to assume that this excess of burned gas will escape faster than the fresh gas will enter the cylinder, it will be seen that if the inlet valve were allowed to lag twenty degrees, the exhaust valve lag need not be more than five degrees, providing that the capacity of the combustion chamber was such that the gases occupied one-quarter of their former volume. it is evident that no absolute rule can be given, as back pressure will vary with the design of the valve passages, the manifolds, and the construction of the muffler. the more direct the opening, the sooner the valve can be closed and the better the cylinder cleared. ten degrees represent an appreciable angle of the crank, and the time required for the crank to cover this angular motion is not inconsiderable and an important quantity of the exhaust may escape, but the piston is very close to the dead center after the distance has been covered. before the inlet valve opens there should be a certain depression in the cylinder, and considerable lag may be allowed before the depression is appreciable. so far as the volume of fresh gas introduced during the admission stroke is concerned, this is determined by the displacement of the piston between the point where the inlet valve opens and the point of closing, assuming that sufficient gas has been inspired so that an equilibrium of pressure has been established between the interior of the cylinder and the outer air. the point of inlet opening varies with different motors. it would appear that a fair amount of lag would be fifteen degrees past top center for the inlet opening, as a certain depression will exist in the cylinder, assuming that the exhaust valve has closed five or ten degrees after center, and at the same time the piston has not gone down far enough on its stroke to materially decrease the amount of gas which will be taken into the cylinder. closing the inlet valve as in the case with the other points of opening and closing, there is a wide diversity of practice as relates to closing the inlet valve. some of the designers close this exactly at bottom center, but this practice cannot be commended, as there is a considerable portion of time, at least ten or fifteen degrees angular motion of the crank, before the piston will commence to travel to any extent on its compression stroke. the gases rushing into the cylinder have considerable velocity, and unless an equilibrium is obtained between the pressure inside and that of the atmosphere outside, they will continue to rush into the cylinder even after the piston ceases to exert any suction effect. for this reason, if the valve is closed exactly on center, a full charge may not be inspired into the cylinder, though if the time of closing is delayed, this momentum or inertia of the gas will be enough to insure that a maximum charge is taken into the cylinder. the writer considers that nothing will be gained if the valve is allowed to remain open longer than twenty degrees, and an analysis of practice in this respect would seem to confirm this opinion. from that point in the crank movement the piston travel increases and the compressive effect is appreciable, and it would appear that a considerable proportion of the charge might be exhausted into the manifold and carburetor if the valve were allowed to remain open beyond a point corresponding to twenty degrees angular movement of the crank. time of ignition in this country engineers unite in providing a variable time of ignition, though abroad some difference of opinion is noted on this point. the practice of advancing the time of ignition, when affected electrically, was severely condemned by early makers, these maintaining that it was necessary because of insufficient heat and volume of the spark, and it was thought that advancing ignition was injurious. the engineers of to-day appreciate the fact that the heat of the electric spark, especially when from a mechanical generator of electrical energy, is the only means by which we can obtain practically instantaneous explosion, as required by the operation of motors at high speeds, and for the combustion of large volumes of gas. [illustration: fig. .--diagrams explaining valve and ignition timing of hall-scott aviation engine.] it is apparent that a motor with a fixed point of ignition is not as desirable, in every way, as one in which the ignition can be advanced to best meet different requirements, and the writer does not readily perceive any advantage outside of simplicity of control in establishing a fixed point of ignition. in fact, there seems to be some difference of opinion among those designers who favor fixed ignition, and in one case this is located forty-three degrees ahead of center, and in another motor the point is fixed at twenty degrees, so that it may be said that this will vary as much as one hundred per cent. in various forms. this point will vary with different methods of ignition, as well as the location of the spark-plug or igniter. for the sake of simplicity, most airplane engines use set spark; if an advancing and retarding mechanism is fitted, it is only to facilitate starting, as the spark is kept advanced while in flight, and control is by throttle alone. [illustration: fig. .--timing diagram of typical six-cylinder engine.] it is obvious by consideration of the foregoing that there can be no arbitrary rules established for timing, because of the many conditions which determine the best times for opening and closing the valves. it is customary to try various settings when a new motor is designed until the most satisfactory points are determined, and the setting which will be very suitable for one motor is not always right for one of different design. the timing diagram shown at fig. applies to the hall-scott engine, and may be considered typical. it should be easily followed in view of the very complete explanation given in preceding pages. another six-cylinder engine diagram is shown at fig. , and an eight-cylinder timing diagram is shown at fig. . in timing automobile engines no trouble is experienced, because timing marks are always indicated on the engine fly-wheel register with an indicating trammel on the crank-case. to time an airplane engine accurately, as is necessary to test for a suspected cam-shaft defect, a timing disc of aluminum is attached to the crank-shaft which has the timing marks indicated thereon. if the disc is made or inches in diameter, it may be divided into degrees without difficulty. [illustration: fig. .--timing diagram of typical eight-cylinder v engine.] how an engine is timed in timing a motor from the marks on the timing disc rim it is necessary to regulate the valves of but one cylinder at a time. assuming that the disc is revolving in the direction of engine rotation, and that the firing order of the cylinders is - - - , the operation of timing would be carried on as follows: the crank-shaft would be revolved until the line marked "exhaust opens and " registered with the trammel on the motor bed. at this point the exhaust-valve of either cylinder no. or no. should begin to open. this can be easily determined by noting which of these cylinders holds the compressed charge ready for ignition. assuming that the spark has occurred in cylinder no. , then when the fly-wheel is turned from the position to that in which the line marked "exhaust opens and " coincides with the trammel point, the valve-plunger under the exhaust-valve of cylinder no. should be adjusted in such a way that there is no clearance between it and the valve stem. further movement of the wheel in the same direction should produce a lift of the exhaust valve. the disc is turned about two hundred and twenty-five degrees, or a little less than three-quarters of a revolution; then the line marked "exhaust closes and " will register with the trammel point. at this period the valve-plunger and the valve-stem should separate and a certain amount of clearance obtain between them. the next cylinder to time would be no. . the crank-shaft is rotated until mark "exhaust opens and " comes in line with the trammel. at this point the exhaust valve of cylinder no. should be just about opening. the closing is determined by rotating the shaft until the line "exhaust closes and " comes under the trammel. this operation is carried on with all the cylinders, it being well to remember that but one cylinder is working at a time and that a half-revolution of the fly-wheel corresponds to a full working stroke of all the cylinders, and that while one is exhausting the others are respectively taking in a new charge, compressing and exploding. for instance, if cylinder no. has just completed its power-stroke, the piston in cylinder no. has reached the point where the gas may be ignited to advantage. the piston of cylinder no. , which is next to fire, is at the bottom of its stroke and will have inspired a charge, while cylinder no. , which is the last to fire, will have just finished expelling a charge of burned gas, and will be starting the intake stroke. this timing relates to a four-cylinder engine in order to simplify the explanation. the timing instructions given apply only to the conventional motor types. rotary cylinder engines, especially the gnome "monosoupape," have a distinctive valve timing on account of the peculiarities of design. gnome "monosoupape" valve timing in the present design of the gnome motor, a cycle of operations somewhat different from that employed in the ordinary four-cycle engine is made use of, says a writer in "the automobile," in describing the action of this power-plant. this cycle does away with the need for the usual inlet valve and makes the engine operable with only a single valve, hence the name _monosoupape_, or "single-valve." the cycle is as follows: a charge being compressed in the outer end of the cylinder or combustion chamber, it is ignited by a spark produced by the spark-plug located in the side of this chamber, and the burning charge expands as the piston moves down in the cylinder while the latter revolves around the crank-shaft. when the piston is about half-way down on the power stroke, the exhaust valve, which is located in the center of the cylinder-head, is mechanically opened, and during the following upstroke of the piston the burnt gases are expelled from the cylinder through the exhaust valve directly into the atmosphere. instead of closing at the end of the exhaust stroke, or a few degrees thereafter, the exhaust valve is held open for about two-thirds of the following inlet stroke of the piston, with the result that fresh air is drawn through the exhaust valve into the cylinder. when the cylinder is still degrees from the end of the inlet half-revolution, the exhaust valve closes. as no more air can get into the cylinder, and as the piston continues to move inwardly, it is obvious that a partial vacuum is formed. when the cylinder approaches within degrees of the end of the inlet half-revolution a series of small inlet ports all around the circumference of the cylinder wall is uncovered by the top edge of the piston, whereby the combustion chamber is placed in communication with the crank chamber. as the pressure in the crank chamber is substantially atmospheric and that in the combustion chamber is below atmospheric, there results a suction effect which causes the air from the crank chamber to flow into the combustion chamber. the air in the crank chamber is heavily charged with gasoline vapor, which is due to the fact that a spray nozzle connected with the gasoline supply tank is located inside the chamber. the proportion of gasoline vapor in the air in the crank chamber is several times as great as in the ordinary combustible mixture drawn from a carburetor into the cylinder. this extra-rich mixture is diluted in the combustion chamber with the air which entered it through the exhaust valve during the first part of the inlet stroke, thus forming a mixture of the proper proportion for complete combustion. the inlet ports in the cylinder wall remain open until degrees of the compression half-revolution has been completed, and from that moment to near the end of the compression stroke the gases are compressed in the cylinder. near the end of the stroke ignition takes place and this completes the cycle. the exact timing of the different phases of the cycle is shown in the diagram at fig. . it will be seen that ignition occurs substantially degrees ahead of the outer dead center, and expansion of the burning gases continues until degrees past the outer dead center, when the piston is a little past half-stroke. then the exhaust-valve opens and remains open for somewhat more than a complete revolution of the cylinders, or, to be exact, for degrees of cylinder travel, until degrees past the top dead center on the second revolution. then for degrees of travel the charge within the cylinder is expanded, whereupon the inlet ports are uncovered and remain open for degrees of cylinder travel, degrees on each side of the inward dead center position. springless valves springless valves are the latest development on french racing car engines, and it is possible that the positively-operated types will be introduced on aviation engines also. two makes of positively-actuated valves are shown at fig. . the positive-valve motor differs from the conventional form by having no necessity for valve-springs, as a cam not only assures the opening of the valve, but also causes it to return to the valve-seat. in this respect it is much like the sleeve-valve motor, where the uncovering of the ports is absolutely positive. the cars equipped with these valves were a success in long-distance auto races. claims made for this type of valve mechanism include the possibility of a higher number of revolutions and consequently greater engine power. with the spring-controlled, single-cam operated valve a point is reached where the spring is not capable of returning the valve to its seat before the cam has again begun its opening movement. it is possible to extend the limits considerably by using a light valve on a strong spring, but the valve still remains a limiting factor in the speed of the motor. [illustration: fig. .--timing diagram showing peculiar valve timing of gnome "monosoupape" rotary motor.] a part sectional view through a cylinder of an engine designed by g. michaux is shown at fig. , a. there are two valves per cylinder, inclined at about ten degrees from the vertical. the valve-stems are of large diameter, as owing to positive control, there is no necessity of lightening this part in an unusual degree. a single overhead cam-shaft has eight pairs of cams, which are shown in detail at b. for each valve there is a three-armed rocker, one arm of which is connected to the stem of the valve and the two others are in contact respectively with the opening and closing cams. the connection to the end of the valve-stem is made by a short connecting link, which is screwed on to the end of the valve-stem and locked in position. this allows some adjustment to be made between the valves and the actuating rocker. it will be evident that one cam and one rocker arm produce the opening of the valve and that the corresponding rocker arm and cam result in the closing of the valve. if the opening cam has the usual convex profile, the closing cam has a correspondingly concave profile. it will be noticed that a light valve-spring is shown in drawing. this is provided to give a final seating to its valve after it has been closed by the cam. this is not absolutely necessary, as an engine has been run successfully without these springs. the whole mechanism is contained within an overhead aluminum cover. [illustration: fig. .--two methods of operating valves by positive cam mechanism which closes as well as opens them.] the positive-valve system used on the de lage motor is shown at d. in this the valves are actuated as shown in sectional views d and e. the valve system is unique in that four valves are provided per cylinder, two for exhaust and two for intake. the valves are mounted side by side, as shown at e, so the double actuator member may be operated by a single set of cams. the valve-operating member consists of a yoke having guide bars at the top and bottom. the actuating cam works inside of this yoke. the usual form of cam acts on the lower portion of the yoke to open the valve, while the concave cam acts on the upper part to close the valves. in this design provision is made for expansion of the valve-stems due to heat, and these are not positively connected to the actuating member. as shown at e, the valves are held against the seat by short coil springs at the upper end of the stem. these are very stiff and are only intended to provide for expansion. a slight space is left between the top of the valve-stem and the portion of the operating member that bears against them when the regular profile cam exerts its pressure on the bottom of the valve-operating mechanism. another novelty in this motor design is that the cam-shafts and the valve-operating members are carried in casing attached above the motor by housing supports in the form of small steel pillars. the overhead cam-shafts are operated by means of bevel gearing. four valves per cylinder [illustration: fig. .--diagram comparing two large valves and four small ones of practically the same area. note how easily small valves are installed to open directly into the cylinder.] mention has been previously made of the sixteen-valve four-cylinder duesenberg motor and its great power output for the piston displacement. this is made possible by the superior volumetric efficiency of a motor provided with four valves in each cylinder instead of but two. this principle was thoroughly tried out in racing automobile motors, and is especially valuable in permitting of greater speed and power output from simple four- and six-cylinder engines. on eight- and twelve-cylinder types, it is doubtful if the resulting complication due to using a very large number of valves would be worth while. when extremely large valves are used, as shown in diagram at fig. , it is difficult to have them open directly into the cylinder, and pockets are sometimes necessary. a large valve would weigh more than two smaller valves having an area slightly larger in the aggregate; it would require a stiffer valve spring on account of its greater weight. a certain amount of metal in the valve-head is necessary to prevent warping; therefore, the inertia forces will be greater in the large valve than in the two smaller valves. as a greater port area is obtained by the use of two valves, the gases will be drawn into the cylinder or expelled faster than with a lesser area. even if the areas are practically the same as in the diagram at fig. , the smaller valves may have a greater lift without imposing greater stresses on the valve-operating mechanism and quicker gas intake and exhaust obtained. the smaller valves are not affected by heat as much as larger ones are. the quicker gas movements made possible, as well as reduction of inertia forces, permits of higher rotative speed, and, consequently, greater power output for a given piston displacement. the drawings at fig. show a sixteen-valve motor of the four-cylinder type that has been designed for automobile racing purposes, and it is apparent that very slight modifications would make it suitable for aviation purposes. part of the efficiency is due to the reduction of bearing friction by the use of ball bearings, but the multiple-valve feature is primarily responsible for the excellent performance. [illustration: fig. .--sectional views of sixteen-valve four-cylinder automobile racing engine that may have possibilities for aviation service.] [illustration: fig. .--front view of curtiss ox- aviation motor, showing unconventional valve action by concentric push rod and pull tube.] chapter ix constructional details of pistons--aluminum cylinders and pistons--piston ring construction--leak proof piston rings-- keeping oil out of combustion chamber--connecting rod forms-- connecting rods for vee engines--cam-shaft and crank-shaft designs--ball bearing crank-shafts--engine base construction. constructional details of pistons the piston is one of the most important parts of the gasoline motor inasmuch as it is the reciprocating member that receives the impact of the explosion and which transforms the power obtained by the combustion of gas to mechanical motion by means of the connecting rod to which it is attached. the piston is one of the simplest elements of the motor, and it is one component which does not vary much in form in different types of motors. the piston is a cylindrical member provided with a series of grooves in which packing rings are placed on the outside and two bosses which serve to hold the wrist pin in its interior. it is usually made of cast iron or aluminum, though in some motors where extreme lightness is desired, such as those used for aëronautic work, it may be made of steel. the use of the more resisting material enables the engineer to use lighter sections where it is important that the weight of this member be kept as low as possible consistent with strength. [illustration: fig. .--forms of pistons commonly employed in gasoline engines. a--dome head piston and three packing rings. b--flat top form almost universally used. c--concave piston utilized in knight motors and some having overhead valves. d--two-cycle engine member with deflector plate cast integrally. e--differential of two-diameter piston used in some engines operating on two-cycle principle.] a number of piston types are shown at fig. . that at a has a round top and is provided with four split packing rings and two oil grooves. a piston of this type is generally employed in motors where the combustion chamber is large and where it is desired to obtain a higher degree of compression than would be possible with a flat top piston. this construction is also stronger because of the arched piston top. the most common form of piston is that shown at b, and it differs from that previously described only in that it has a flat top. the piston outlined in section at c is a type used on some of the sleeve-valve motors of the knight pattern, and has a concave head instead of the convex form shown at a. the design shown at d in side and plan views is the conventional form employed in two-cycle engines. the deflector plate on the top of the cylinder is cast integral and is utilized to prevent the incoming fresh gases from flowing directly over the piston top and out of the exhaust port, which is usually opposite the inlet opening. on these types of two-cycle engines where a two-diameter cylinder is employed, the piston shown at e is used. this is known as a "differential piston," and has an enlarged portion at its lower end which fits the pumping cylinder. the usual form of deflector plate is provided at the top of the piston and one may consider it as two pistons in one. [illustration: fig. .--typical methods of piston pin retention generally used in engines of american design. a--single set screw and lock nut. b--set screw and check nut fitting groove in wrist pin. c, d--two locking screws passing into interior of hollow wrist pin. e--split ring holds pin in place. f--use of taper expanding plugs outlined. g--spring pressed plunger type. h--piston pin pinned to connecting rod. i--wrist pin clamped in connecting rod small end by bolt.] [illustration: fig. .--typical piston and connecting rod assembly.] [illustration: fig. .--parts of sturtevant aviation engine. a--cylinder head showing valves. b--connecting rod. c--piston and rings.] one of the important conditions in piston design is the method of securing the wrist pin which is used to connect the piston to the upper end of the connecting rod. various methods have been devised to keep the pin in place, the most common of these being shown at fig. . the wrist pin should be retained by some positive means which is not liable to become loose under the vibratory stresses which obtain at this point. if the wrist pin was free to move it would work out of the bosses enough so that the end would bear against the cylinder wall. as it is usually made of steel, which is a harder material than cast iron used in cylinder construction, the rubbing action would tend to cut a groove in the cylinder wall which would make for loss of power because it would permit escape of gas. the wrist pin member is a simple cylindrical element that fits the bosses closely, and it may be either hollow or solid stock. a typical piston and connecting rod assembly which shows a piston in section also is given at fig. . the piston of the sturtevant aëronautical motor is shown at fig. , the aluminum piston of the thomas airplane motor with piston rings in place is shown at fig. . a good view of the wrist pin and connecting rod are also given. the iron piston of the gnome "monosoupape" airplane engine and the unconventional connecting rod assembly are clearly depicted at fig . [illustration: fig. .--aluminum piston and light but strong steel connecting rod and wrist pin of thomas aviation engine.] the method of retention shown at a is the simplest and consists of a set screw having a projecting portion passing into the wrist pin and holding it in place. the screw is kept from turning or loosening by means of a check nut. the method outlined at b is similar to that shown at a, except that the wrist pin is solid and the point of the set screw engages an annular groove turned in the pin for its reception. a very positive method is shown at c. here the retention screws pass into the wrist pin and are then locked by a piece of steel wire which passes through suitable holes in the ends. the method outlined at d is sometimes employed, and it varies from that shown at c only in that the locking wire, which is made of spring steel, is passed through the heads of the locking screws. some designers machine a large groove around the piston at such a point that when the wrist pin is put in place a large packing ring may be sprung in the groove and utilized to hold the wrist pin in place. [illustration: fig. .--cast iron piston of "monosoupape" gnome engine installed on one of the short connecting rods.] the system shown at f is not so widely used as the simpler methods, because it is more costly and does not offer any greater security when the parts are new than the simple lock shown at a. in this a hollow wrist pin is used, having a tapered thread cut at each end. the wrist pin is slotted at three or four points, for a distance equal to the length of the boss, and when taper expansion plugs are screwed in place the ends of the wrist pin are expanded against the bosses. this method has the advantage of providing a certain degree of adjustment if the wrist pin should loosen up after it has been in use for some time. the taper plugs would be screwed in deeper and the ends of the wrist pin expanded proportionately to take up the loss motion. the method shown at g is an ingenious one. one of the piston bosses is provided with a projection which is drilled out to receive a plunger. the wrist pin is provided with a hole of sufficient size to receive the plunger, which is kept in place by means of a spring in back of it. this makes a very positive lock and one that can be easily loosened when it is desired to remove the wrist pin. to unlock, a piece of fine rod is thrust into the hole at the bottom of the boss which pushes the plunger back against the spring until the wrist pin can be pushed out of the piston. some engineers think it advisable to oscillate the wrist pin in the piston bosses, instead of in the connecting rod small end. it is argued that this construction gives more bearing surface at the wrist pin and also provides for more strength because of the longer bosses that can be used. when this system is followed the piston pin is held in place by locking it to the connecting rod by some means. at h the simplest method is outlined. this consisted of driving a taper pin through both rod and wrist pin and then preventing it from backing out by putting a split cotter through the small end of the tapered locking pin. another method, which is depicted at i, consists of clamping the wrist pin by means of a suitable bolt which brings the slit connecting rod end together as shown. aluminum for cylinders and pistons aluminum pistons outlined at fig. , have replaced cast iron members in many airplane engines, as these weigh about one-third as much as the cast iron forms of the same size, while the reduction in the inertia forces has made it possible to increase the engine speed without correspondingly stressing the connecting rods, crank-shaft and engine bearings. [illustration: fig. .--types of aluminum pistons used in aviation engines.] aluminum has not only been used for pistons, but a number of motors will be built for the coming season that will use aluminum cylinder block castings as well. of course, the aluminum alloy is too soft to be used as a bearing for the piston, and it will not withstand the hammering action of the valve. this makes the use of cast iron or steel imperative in all motors. when used in connection with an aluminum cylinder block the cast iron pieces are placed in the mould so that they act as cylinder liners and valve seats, and the molten metal is poured around them when the cylinder is cast. it is said that this construction results in an intimate bond between the cast iron and the surrounding aluminum metal. steel liners may also be pressed into the aluminum cylinders after these are bored out to receive them. aluminum has for a number of years been used in many motor car parts. alloys have been developed that have greater strength than cast iron and that are not so brittle. its use for manifolds and engine crank and gear cases has been general for a number of years. at first thought it would seem as though aluminum would be entirely unsuited for use in those portions of internal combustion engines exposed to the heat of the explosion, on account of the low melting point of that metal and its disadvantageous quality of suddenly "wilting" when a critical point in the temperature is reached. those who hesitated to use aluminum on account of this defect lost sight of the great heat conductivity of that metal, which is considerably more than that of cast iron. it was found in early experiments with aluminum pistons that this quality of quick radiation meant that aluminum pistons remained considerably cooler than cast iron ones in service, which was attested to by the reduced formation of carbon deposit thereon. the use of aluminum makes possible a marked reduction in power plant weight. a small four-cylinder engine which was not particularly heavy even with cast iron cylinders was found to weigh pounds less when the cylinder block, pistons, and upper half of the crank-case had been made of aluminum instead of cast iron. aluminum motors are no longer an experiment, as a considerable number of these have been in use on cars during the past year without the owners of the cars being apprised of the fact. absolutely no complaint was made in any case of the aluminum motor and it was demonstrated, in addition to the saving in weight, that the motors cost no more to assemble and cooled much more efficiently than the cast iron form. one of the drawbacks to the use of aluminum is its growing scarcity, which results in making it a "near precious" metal. piston ring construction as all pistons must be free to move up and down in the cylinder with minimum friction, they must be less in diameter than the bore of the cylinder. the amount of freedom or clearance provided varies with the construction of the engine and the material the piston is made of, as well as its size, but it is usual to provide from . to . of an inch to compensate for the expansion of the piston due to heat and also to leave sufficient clearance for the introduction of lubricant between the working surfaces. obviously, if the piston were not provided with packing rings, this amount of clearance would enable a portion of the gases evolved when the charge is exploded to escape by it into the engine crank-case. the packing members or piston rings, as they are called, are split rings of cast iron, which are sprung into suitable grooves machined on the exterior of the piston, three or four of these being the usual number supplied. these have sufficient elasticity so that they bear tightly against the cylinder wall and thus make a gas-tight joint. owing to the limited amount of surface in contact with the cylinder wall and the elasticity of the split rings the amount of friction resulting from the contact of properly fitted rings and the cylinder is not of enough moment to cause any damage and the piston is free to slide up and down in the cylinder bore. [illustration: fig. .--types of piston rings and ring joints. a--concentric ring. b--eccentrically machined form. c--lap joint ring. d--butt joint, seldom used. e--diagonal cut member, a popular form.] these rings are made in two forms, as outlined at fig. . the design shown at a is termed a "concentric ring," because the inner circle is concentric with the outer one and the ring is of uniform thickness at all points. the ring shown at b is called an "eccentric ring," and it is thicker at one part than at others. it has theoretical advantages in that it will make a tighter joint than the other form, as it is claimed its expansion due to heat is more uniform. the piston rings must be split in order that they may be sprung in place in the grooves, and also to insure that they will have sufficient elasticity to take the form of the cylinder at the different points in their travel. if the cylinder bore varies by small amounts the rings will spring out at the points where the bore is larger than standard, and spring in at those portions where it is smaller than standard. it is important that the joint should be as nearly gas-tight as possible, because if it were not a portion of the gases would escape through the slots in the piston rings. the joint shown at c is termed a "lap joint," because the ends of the ring are cut in such a manner that they overlap. this is the approved joint. the butt joint shown at d is seldom used and is a very poor form, the only advantage being its cheapness. the diagonal cut shown at e is a compromise between the very good form shown at c and the poor joint depicted at d. it is also widely used, though most constructors prefer the lap joint, because it does not permit the leakage of gas as much as the other two types. there seems to be some difference of opinion relative to the best piston ring type--some favoring the eccentric pattern, others the concentric form. the concentric ring has advantages from the lubricating engineer's point of view; as stated by the platt & washburn company in their text-book on engine lubrication, the smaller clearance behind the ring possible with the ring of uniform section is advantageous. fig. , a, shows a concentric piston ring in its groove. since the ring itself is concentric with the groove, very small clearance between the back of the ring and the bottom of its groove may be allowed. small clearance leaves less space for the accumulation of oil and carbon deposits. the gasket effect of this ring is uniform throughout the entire length of its edges, which is its marked advantage over the eccentric ring. this type of piston ring rarely burns fast in its groove. there are a large number of different concentric rings manufactured of different designs and of different efficiency. [illustration: fig. .--diagrams showing advantages of concentric piston rings.] figs. , b and , c show eccentric rings assembled in the ring groove. it will be noted that there is a large space between the thin ends of this ring and the bottom of the groove. this empty space fills up with oil which in the case of the upper ring frequently is carbonized, restricting the action of the ring and nullifying its usefulness. the edges of the thin ends are not sufficiently wide to prevent rapid escape of gases past them. in a practical way this leakage means loss of compression and noticeable drop in power. when new and properly fitted, very little difference can be noted between the tightness of eccentric and concentric rings. nevertheless, after several months' use, a more rapid leakage will always occur past the eccentric than past the concentric. if continuous trouble with the carbonization of cylinders, smoking and sooting of spark-plugs is experienced, it is a sure indication that mechanical defects exist in the engine, assuming of course, that a suitable oil has been used. such trouble can be greatly lessened, if not entirely eliminated, by the application of concentric rings (lap joint), of any good make, properly fitted into the grooves of the piston. too much emphasis cannot be put upon this point. if the oil used in the engine is of the correct viscosity, and serious carbon deposit, smoking, etc., still result, the only certain remedy then is to have the cylinders rebored and fitted with properly designed, oversized pistons and piston rings. leak-proof piston rings in order to reduce the compression loss and leakage of gas by the ordinary simple form of diagonal or lap joint one-piece piston ring a number of compound rings have been devised and are offered by their makers to use in making replacements. the leading forms are shown at fig. . that shown at a is known as the "statite" and consists of three rings, one carried inside while the other two are carried on the outside. the ring shown at b is a double ring and is known as the mccadden. this is composed of two thin concentric lap joint rings so disposed relative to each other that the opening in the inner ring comes opposite to the opening in the outer ring. the form shown at c is known as the "leektite," and is a single ring provided with a peculiar form of lap and dove tail joint. the ring shown at d is known as the "dunham" and is of the double concentric type being composed of two rings with lap joints which are welded together at a point opposite the joint so that there is no passage by which the gas can escape. the burd high compression ring is shown at e. the joints of these rings are sealed by means of an h-shaped coupler of bronze which closes the opening. the ring ends are made with tongues which interlock with the coupling. the ring shown at f is called the "evertite" and is a three-piece ring composed of three members as shown in the sectional view below the ring. the main part or inner ring has a circumferential channel in which the two outer rings lock, the resulting cross-section being rectangular just the same as that of a regular pattern ring. all three rings are diagonally split and the joints are spaced equally and the distances maintained by small pins. this results in each joint being sealed by the solid portion of the other rings. [illustration: fig. .--leak-proof and other compound piston rings.] the use of a number of light steel rings instead of one wide ring in the groove is found on a number of automobile power plants, but as far as known, this construction is not used in airplane power plants. it is contended that where a number of light rings is employed a more flexible packing means is obtained and the possibility of leakage is reduced. rings of this design are made of square section steel wire and are given a spring temper. owing to the limited width the diagonal cut joint is generally employed instead of the lap joint which is so popular on wider rings. keeping oil out of combustion chambers an examination of the engine design that is economical in oil consumption discloses the use of tight piston rings, large centrifugal rings on the crank-shaft where it passes through the case, ample cooling fins in the pistons, vents between the crank-case chamber and the valve enclosures, etc. briefly put, cooling of the oil in this engine has been properly cared for and leakage reduced to a minimum. to be specific regarding details of design: oil surplus can be kept out of the explosion chambers by leaving the lower edge of the piston skirt sharp and by the use of a shallow groove (c), fig. , just below the lower piston ring. small holes are bored through the piston walls at the base of this groove and communicate with the crank-case. the similarity of the sharp edges of piston skirt (d) and piston ring to a carpenter's plane bit, makes their operation plain. [illustration: fig. .--sectional view of engine showing means of preventing oil leakage by piston rings.] the cooling of oil in the sump (a) can be accomplished most effectively by radiating fins on its outer surface. the lower crank-case should be fully exposed to the outer air. a settling basin for sediment (b) should be provided having a cubic content not less than one-tenth of the total oil capacity as outlined at fig. . the depth of this basin should be at least - / inches, and its walls vertical, as shown, to reduce the mixing of sediment with the oil in circulation. the inlet opening to the oil pump should be near the top of the sediment basin in order to prevent the entrance into the pump with the oil of any solid matter or water condensed from the products of combustion. this sediment basin should be drained after every five to seven hours air service of an airplane engine. concerning filtering screens there is little to be said, save that their areas should be ample and the mesh coarse enough (one-sixteenth of an inch) to offer no serious resistance to the free flow of cold or heavy oil through them; otherwise the oil in the crank-case may build up above them to an undesirable level. the necessary frequency of draining and flushing out the oil sump differs greatly with the age (condition) of the engine and the suitability of the oil used. in broad terms, the oil sump of a new engine should be thoroughly drained and flushed with kerosene at the end of the first miles, next at the end of miles and thereafter every , miles. while these instructions apply specifically to automobile motors, it is very good practice to change the oil in airplane engines frequently. in many cases, the best results have been secured when the oil supply is completely replenished every five hours that the engine is in operation. connecting rod forms the connecting rod is the simple member that joins the piston to the crank-shaft and which transmits the power imparted to the piston by the explosion so that it may be usefully applied. it transforms the reciprocating movement of the piston to a rotary motion at the crank-shaft. a typical connecting rod and its wrist pin are shown at fig. . it will be seen that it has two bearings, one at either end. the small end is bored out to receive the wrist pin which joins it to the piston, while the large end has a hole of sufficient size to go on the crank-pin. the airplane and automobile engine connecting rod is invariably a steel forging, though in marine engines it is sometimes made a steel or high tensile strength bronze casting. in all cases it is desirable to have softer metals than the crank-shaft and wrist pin at the bearing point, and for this reason the connecting rod is usually provided with bushings of anti-friction or white metal at the lower end, and bronze at the upper. the upper end of the connecting rod may be one piece, because the wrist pin can be introduced after it is in place between the bosses of the piston. the lower bearing must be made in two parts in most cases, because the crank-shaft cannot be passed through the bearing owing to its irregular form. the rods of the gnome engine are all one piece types, as shown at fig. , owing to the construction of the "mother" rod which receives the crank-pins. the complete connecting rod assembly is shown in fig. , also at a, fig. . the "mother" rod, with one of the other rods in place and one about to be inserted, is shown at fig. , b. the built-up crank-shaft which makes this construction feasible is shown at fig. , c. [illustration: fig. .--connecting rod and crank-shaft construction of gnome "monosoupape" engine.] some of the various designs of connecting rods that have been used are shown at fig. . that at a is a simple form often employed in single-cylinder motors, having built-up crank-shafts. both ends of the connecting rod are bushed with a one-piece bearing, as it can be assembled in place before the crank-shaft assembly is built up. a built-up crank-shaft such as this type of connecting rod would be used with is shown at fig. . the pattern shown at b is one that has been used to some extent on heavy work, and is known as the "marine type." it is made in three pieces, the main portion being a steel forging having a flanged lower end to which the bronze boxes are secured by bolts. the modified marine type depicted at c is the form that has received the widest application in automobile and aviation engine construction. it consists of two pieces, the main member being a steel drop forging having the wrist-pin bearing and the upper crank-pin bearing formed integral, while the lower crank-pin bearing member is a separate forging secured to the connecting rod by bolts. in this construction bushings of anti-friction metal are used at the lower end, and a bronze bushing is forced into the upper- or wrist-pin end. the rod shown at d has also been widely used. it is similar in construction to the form shown at c, except that the upper end is split in order to permit of a degree of adjustment of the wrist-pin bushing, and the lower bearing cap is a hinged member which is retained by one bolt instead of two. when it is desired to assemble it on the crank-shaft the lower cap is swung to one side and brought back into place when the connecting rod has been properly located. sometimes the lower bearing member is split diagonally instead of horizontally, such a construction being outlined at e. [illustration: fig. .--connecting rod types summarized. a--single connecting rod made in one piece, usually fitted in small single-cylinder engines having built-up crank-shafts. b--marine type, a popular form on heavy engines. c--conventional automobile type, a modified marine form. d--type having hinged lower cap and split wrist pin bushing. e--connecting rod having diagonally divided big end. f--ball-bearing rod. g--sections showing structural shapes commonly employed in connecting rod construction.] in a number of instances, instead of plain bushed bearings anti-friction forms using ball or rollers have been used at the lower end. a ball-bearing connecting rod is shown at f. the big end may be made in one piece, because if it is possible to get the ball bearing on the crank-pins it will be easy to put the connecting rod in place. ball bearings are not used very often on connecting rod big ends because of difficulty of installation, though when applied properly they give satisfactory service and reduce friction to a minimum. one of the advantages of the ball bearing is that it requires no adjustment, whereas the plain bushings depicted in the other connecting rods must be taken up from time to time to compensate for wear. this can be done in forms shown at b, c, d, and e by bringing the lower bearing caps closer to the upper one and scraping out the brasses to fit the shaft. a number of liners or shims of thin brass or copper stock, varying from . inch to . inch, are sometimes interposed between the halves of the bearings when it is first fitted to the crank-pin. as the brasses wear the shims may be removed and the portions of the bearings brought close enough together to take up any lost motion that may exist, though in some motors no shims are provided and depreciation can be remedied only by installing new brasses and scraping to fit. [illustration: fig. .--double connecting rod assembly for use on single crank-pin of vee engine.] the various structural shapes in which connecting rods are formed are shown in section at g. of these the i section is most widely used in airplane engines, because it is strong and a very easy shape to form by the drop-forging process or to machine out of the solid bar when extra good steel is used. where extreme lightness is desired, as in small high-speed motors used for cycle propulsion, the section shown at the extreme left is often used. if the rod is a cast member as in some marine engines, the cross, hollow cylinder, or u sections are sometimes used. if the sections shown at the right are employed, advantage is often taken of the opportunity for passing lubricant through the center of the hollow round section on vertical motors or at the bottom of the u section, which would be used on a horizontal cylinder power plant. [illustration: fig. .--another type of double connecting rod for vee engines.] connecting rods of vee engines are made in two distinct styles. the forked or "scissors" joint rod assembly is employed when the cylinders are placed directly opposite each other. the "blade" rod, as shown at fig. , fits between the lower ends of the forked rod, which oscillate on the bearing which encircles the crank-pin. the lower end of the "blade" rod is usually attached to the bearing brasses, the ends of the "forked" rod move on the outer surfaces of the brasses. another form of rod devised for use under these conditions is shown at fig. and installed in an aviation engine at fig. . in this construction the shorter rod is attached to a boss on the master rod by a short pin to form a hinge and to permit the short rod to oscillate as the conditions dictate. this form of rod can be easily adjusted when the bearing depreciates, a procedure that is difficult with the forked type rod. the best practice, in the writer's opinion, is to stagger the cylinders and use side-by-side rods as is done in the curtiss engine. each rod may be fitted independently of the other and perfect compensation for wear of the big ends is possible. [illustration: fig. .--part sectional view of wisconsin aviation engine, showing four-bearing crank-shaft, overhead cam-shaft, and method of combining cylinders in pairs.] [illustration: fig. .--part sectional view of renault twelve-cylinder water-cooled engine, showing connecting rod construction and other important internal parts.] cam-shaft and crank-shaft design before going extensively into the subject of crank-shaft construction it will be well to consider cam-shaft design, which is properly a part of the valve system and which has been considered in connection with the other elements which have to do directly with cylinder construction to some extent. cam-shafts are usually simple members carried at the base of the cylinder in the engine case of vee type motors by suitable bearings and having the cams employed to lift the valves attached at intervals. a typical cam-shaft design is shown at fig. . two main methods of cam-shaft construction are followed--that in which the cams are separate members, keyed and pinned to the shaft, and the other where the cams are formed integral, the latter being the most suitable for airplane engine requirements. [illustration: fig. .--typical cam-shaft, with valve lifting cams and gears to operate auxiliary devices forged integrally.] the cam-shafts shown at figs. and , b, are of the latter type, as the cams are machined integrally. in this case not only the cams but also the gears used in driving the auxiliary shafts are forged integral. this is a more expensive construction, because of the high initial cost of forging dies as well as the greater expense of machining. it has the advantage over the other form in which the cams are keyed in place in that it is stronger, and as the cams are a part of the shaft they can never become loose, as might be possible where they are separately formed and assembled on a simple shaft. [illustration: fig. .--important parts of duesenberg aviation engine. a--three main bearing crank-shaft. b--cam-shaft with integral cams. c--piston and connecting rod assembly. d--valve rocker group. e--piston. f--main bearing brasses.] the importance of the crank-shaft has been previously considered, and some of its forms have been shown in views of the motors presented in earlier portions of this work. the crank-shaft is one of the parts subjected to the greatest strain and extreme care is needed in its construction and design, because practically the entire duty of transmitting the power generated by the motor to the gearset devolves upon it. crank-shafts are usually made of high tensile strength steel of special composition. they may be made in four ways, the most common being from a drop or machine forging which is formed approximately to the shape of the finished shaft and in rare instances (experimental motors only) they may be steel castings. sometimes they are made from machine forgings, where considerably more machine work is necessary than would be the case where the shaft is formed between dies. some engineers favor blocking the shaft out of a solid slab of metal and then machining this rough blank to form. in some radial-cylinder motors of the gnome and le rhone type the crank-shafts are built up of two pieces, held together by taper fastenings or bolts. [illustration: fig. .--showing method of making crank-shaft. a--the rough steel forging before machining. b--the finished six-throw, seven-bearing crank-shaft.] the form of the shaft depends on the number of cylinders and the form has material influence on the method of construction. for instance, a four-cylinder crank-shaft could be made by either of the methods outlined. on the other hand, a three- or six-cylinder shaft is best made by the machine forging process, because if drop forged or cut from the blank it will have to be heated and the crank throws bent around so that the pins will lie in three planes one hundred and twenty degrees apart, while the other types described need no further attention, as the crank-pins lie in planes one hundred and eighty degrees apart. this can be better understood by referring to fig. , which shows a six-cylinder shaft in the rough and finished stages. at a the appearance of the machine forging before any of the material is removed is shown, while at b the appearance of the finished crank-shaft is clearly depicted. the built-up crank-shaft is seldom used on multiple-cylinder motors, except in some cases where the crank-shafts revolve on ball bearings as in some automobile racing engines. [illustration: fig. .--showing form of crank-shaft for twin-cylinder opposed power plant.] [illustration: fig. .--crank-shaft of thomas-morse eight-cylinder vee engine.] crank-shaft form will vary with a number of cylinders and it is possible to use a number of different arrangements of crank-pins and bearings for the same number of cylinders. the simplest form of crank-shaft is that used on simple radial cylinder motors as it would consist of but one crank-pin, two webs, and the crank-shaft. as the number of cylinders increase in vee motors as a general rule more crank-pins are used. the crank-shaft that would be used on a two-cylinder opposed motor is shown at fig. . this has two throws and the crank-pins are spaced degrees apart. the bearings are exceptionally long. four-cylinder crank-shafts may have two, three or five main bearings and three or four crank-pins. in some forms of two-bearing crank-shafts, such as used when four-cylinders are cast in a block, or unit casting, two of the pistons are attached to one common crank-pin, so that in reality the crank-shaft has but three crank-pins. a typical three bearing, four-cylinder crank-shaft is shown at fig. , a. the same type can be used for an eight-cylinder vee engine, except for the greater length of crank-pins to permit of side by side rods as shown at fig. . six cylinder vertical tandem and twelve-cylinder vee engine crank-shafts usually have four or seven main bearings depending upon the disposition of the crank-pins and arrangement of cylinders. at fig. , a, the bottom view of a twelve-cylinder engine with bottom half of crank case removed is given. this illustrates clearly the arrangement of main bearings when the crank-shaft is supported on four journals. the crank-shaft shown at fig. , b, is a twelve-cylinder seven-bearing type. [illustration: fig. .--crank-case and crank-shaft construction for twelve-cylinder motors. a--duesenberg. b--curtiss.] [illustration: fig. .--counterbalanced crank-shafts reduce engine vibration and permit of higher rotative speeds.] in some automobile engines, extremely good results have been secured in obtaining steady running with minimum vibration by counterbalancing the crank-shafts as outlined at fig. . the shaft at a is a type suitable for a high speed four-cylinder vertical or an eight-cylinder vee type. that at b is for a six-cylinder vertical or a twelve-cylinder v with scissors joint rods. if counterbalancing crank-shafts helps in an automobile engine, it should have advantages of some moment in airplane engines, even though the crank-shaft weight is greater. ball-bearing crank-shafts while crank-shafts are usually supported in plain journals there seems to be a growing tendency of late to use anti-friction bearings of the ball type for their support. this is especially noticeable on block motors where but two main bearings are utilized. when ball bearings are selected with proper relation to the load which obtains they will give very satisfactory service. they permit the crank-shaft to turn with minimum friction, and if properly selected will never need adjustment. the front end is supported by a bearing which is clamped in such a manner that it will take a certain amount of load in a direction parallel to the axis of the shaft, while the rear end is so supported that the outer race of the bearing has a certain amount of axial freedom or "float." the inner race or cone of each bearing is firmly clamped against shoulders on the crank-shaft. at the front end of the crank-shaft timing gear and a suitable check nut are used, while at the back end the bearing is clamped by a threaded retention member between the fly-wheel and a shoulder on the crank-shaft. the fly-wheel is held in place by a taper and key retention. the ball bearings are carried in a light housing of bronze or malleable iron, which in turn are held in the crank-case by bolts. the renault engine uses ball bearings at front and rear ends of the crank-shaft, but has plain bearings around intermediate crank-shaft journals. the rotary engines of the gnome, le rhone and clerget forms would not be practical if ball bearings were not used as the bearing friction and consequent depreciation would be very high. engine-base construction one of the important parts of the power plant is the substantial casing or bed member, which is employed to support the cylinders and crank-shaft and which is attached directly to the fuselage engine supporting members. this will vary widely in form, but as a general thing it is an approximately cylindrical member which may be divided either vertically or horizontally in two or more parts. airplane engine crank-cases are usually made of aluminum, a material which has about the same strength as cast iron, but which only weighs a third as much. in rare cases cast iron is employed, but is not favored by most engineers because of its brittle nature, great weight and low resistance to tensile stresses. where exceptional strength is needed alloys of bronze may be used, and in some cases where engines are produced in large quantities a portion of the crank-case may be a sheet steel or aluminum stamping. [illustration: fig. .--view of thomas horse-power aeromotor, model , showing conventional method of crank-case construction.] [illustration: fig. .--views of upper half of thomas aeromotor crank-case.] crank-cases are always large enough to permit the crank-shaft and parts attached to it to turn inside and obviously its length is determined by the number of cylinders and their disposition. the crank-case of the radial cylinder or double-opposed cylinder engine would be substantially the same in length. that of a four-cylinder will vary in length with the method of casting the cylinder. when the four-cylinders are cast in one unit and a two-bearing crank-shaft is used, the crank-case is a very compact and short member. when a three-bearing crank-shaft is utilized and the cylinders are cast in pairs, the engine base is longer than it would be to support a block casting, but is shorter than one designed to sustain individual cylinder castings and a five-bearing crank-shaft. it is now common construction to cast an oil container integral with the bottom of the engine base and to draw the lubricating oil from it by means of a pump, as shown at fig. . the arms by which the motor is supported in the fuselage are substantial-ribbed members cast integrally with the upper half. [illustration: fig. .--method of constructing eight-cylinder vee engine, possible if aluminum cylinder and crank-case castings are used.] [illustration: fig. .--simple and compact crank-case, possible when radial cylinder engine design is followed.] the approved method of crank-case construction favored by the majority of engineers is shown at the top of fig. , bottom side up. the upper half not only forms a bed for the cylinder but is used to hold the crank-shaft as well. in the illustration, the three-bearing boxes form part of the case, while the lower brasses are in the form of separately cast caps retained by suitable bolts. in the construction outlined the bottom part of the case serves merely as an oil container and a protection for the interior mechanism of the motor. the cylinders are held down by means of studs screwed into the crank-case top, as shown at fig. , lower view. if the aluminum cylinder motor has any future, the method of construction outlined at fig. , which has been used in cast iron for an automobile motor, might be used for an eight-cylinder vee engine for airplane use. the simplicity of the crank-case needed for a revolving cylinder motor and its small weight can be well understood by examination of the illustration at fig. , which shows the engine crank-case for the nine-cylinder "monosoupape" gnome engine. this consists of two accurately machined forgings held together by bolts as clearly indicated. chapter x power plant installation--curtiss ox- engine mounting and operating rules--standard s. a. e. engine bed dimensions-- hall-scott engine installation and operation--fuel system rules --ignition system--water system--preparations to start engine-- mounting radial and rotary engines--practical hints to locate engine troubles--all engine troubles summarized--location of engine troubles made easy. the proper installation of the airplane power plant is more important than is generally supposed, as while these engines are usually well balanced and run with little vibration, it is necessary that they be securely anchored and that various connections to the auxiliary parts be carefully made in order to prevent breakage from vibration and that attendant risk of motor stoppage while in the air. the type of motor to be installed determines the method of installation to be followed. as a general rule six-cylinder vertical engine and eight-cylinder vee type are mounted in substantially the same way. the radial, fixed cylinder forms and the radial, rotary cylinder gnome and le rhone rotary types require an entirely different method of mounting. some unconventional mountings have been devised, notably that shown at fig. , which is a six-cylinder german engine that is installed in just the opposite way to that commonly followed. the inverted cylinder construction is not generally followed because even with pressure feed, dry crank-case type lubricating system there is considerable danger of over-lubrication and of oil collecting and carbonizing in the combustion chamber and gumming up the valve action much quicker than would be the case if the engine was operated in the conventional upright position. the reason for mounting an engine in this way is to obtain a lower center of gravity and also to make for more perfect streamlining of the front end of the fuselage in some cases. it is rather doubtful if this slight advantage will compensate for the disadvantages introduced by this unusual construction. it is not used to any extent now but is presented merely to show one of the possible systems of installing an airplane engine. [illustration: fig. .--unconventional mounting of german inverted cylinder motor.] [illustration: fig. .--how curtiss model ox- motor is installed in fuselage of curtiss tractor biplane. note similarity of mounting to automobile power plant.] in a number of airplanes of the tractor-biplane type the power plant installation is not very much different than that which is found in automobile practice. the illustration at fig. is a very clear representation of the method of mounting the curtiss eight-cylinder h. p. or model ox- engine in the fuselage of the curtiss jn- tractor biplane which is so generally used in the united states as a training machine. it will be observed that the fuel tank is mounted under a cowl directly behind the motor and that it feeds the carburetor by means of a flexible fuel pipe. as the tank is mounted higher than the carburetor, it will feed that member by gravity. the radiator is mounted at the front end of the fuselage and connected to the water piping on the motor by the usual rubber hose connections. an oil pan is placed under the engine and the top is covered with a hood just as in motor car practice. the panels of aluminum are attached to the sides of the fuselage and are supplied with doors which open and provide access to the carburetor, oil-gauge and other parts of the motor requiring inspection. the complete installation with the power plant enclosed is given at fig. , and in this it will be observed that the exhaust pipes are connected to discharge members that lead the gases above the top plane. in the engine shown at fig. the exhaust flows directly into the air at the sides of the machine through short pipes bolted to the exhaust gas outlet ports. the installation of the radiator just back of the tractor screw insures that adequate cooling will be obtained because of the rapid air flow due to the propeller slip stream. [illustration: fig. .--latest model of curtiss jn- training machine, showing thorough enclosure of power plant and method of disposing of the exhaust gases.] installation of curtiss ox- engine [illustration: fig. .--front view of l. w. f. tractor biplane fuselage, showing method of installing thomas aeromotor and method of disposing of exhaust gases.] the following instructions are given in the curtiss instruction book for installing the ox- engine and preparing it for flights, and taken in connection with the very clear illustration presented no difficulty should be experienced in understanding the proper installation, and mounting of this power plant. the bearers or beds should be inches wide by inches deep, preferably of laminated hard wood, and placed - / inches apart. they must be well braced. the six arms of the base of the motor are drilled for / -inch bolts, and none but this size should he used. . _anchoring the motor._ put the bolts in from the bottom, with a large washer under the head of each so the head cannot cut into the wood. on every bolt use a castellated nut and a cotter pin, or an ordinary nut and a lock washer, so the bolt will not work loose. always set motor in place and fasten before attaching any auxiliary apparatus, such as carburetor, etc. . _inspecting the ignition-switch wires._ the wires leading from the ignition switch must be properly connected--one end to the motor body for ground, and the other end to the post on the breaker box of the magneto. . _filling the radiator._ be sure that the water from the radiator fills the cylinder jackets. pockets of air may remain in the cylinder jackets even though the radiator may appear full. turn the motor over a few times by hand after filling the radiator, and then add more water if the radiator will take it. the air pockets, if allowed to remain, may cause overheating and develop serious trouble when the motor is running. . _filling the oil reservoir._ oil is admitted into the crank-case through the breather tube at the rear. it is well to strain all oil put into the crank-case. in filling the oil reservoir be sure to turn the handle on the oil sight-gauge till it is at right angles with the gauge. the oil sight-gauge is on the side of the lower half of the crank-case. put in about gallons of the best obtainable oil, mobile b recommended. it is important to remember that the very best oil is none too good. . _oiling exposed moving parts._ oil all rocker-arm bearings before each flight. a little oil should be applied where the push rods pass through the stirrup straps. . _filling the gasoline tanks._ be certain that all connections in the gasoline system are tight. . _turning on the gasoline._ open the cock leading from the gasoline tank to the carburetor. . _charging the cylinders._ with the ignition switch off, prime the motor by squirting a little gasoline in each exhaust port and then turn the propeller backward two revolutions. never open the exhaust valve by operating the rocker-arm by hand, as the push-rod is liable to come out of its socket in the cam follower and bend the rocker-arm when the motor turns over. . _starting the motor by hand._ always retard the spark part way, to prevent back-firing, by pulling forward the wire attached to the breaker box. failure to so retard the spark in starting may result in serious injury to the operator. turn on the ignition switch with throttle partly open; give a quick, strong pull down and outward on the starting crank or propeller. as soon as the motor is started advance the spark by releasing the retard wire. . _oil circulation._ let the motor run at low speed for a few minutes in order to establish oil circulation in all bearings. with all parts functioning properly, the throttle may be opened gradually for warming up before flight. standard s.a.e. engine bed dimensions the society of automotive engineers have made efforts to standardize dimensions of bed timbers for supporting power plant in an aeroplane. owing to the great difference in length no standardization is thought possible in this regard. the dimensions recommended are as follows: distance between timbers in. in. in. width of bed timbers - / in. - / in. in. distance between centers of bolts - / in. - / in. in. it will be evident that if any standard of this nature were adopted by engine builders that the designers of fuselage could easily arrange their bed timbers to conform to these dimensions, whereas it would be difficult to have them adhere to any standard longitudinal dimensions which are much more easily varied in fuselages than the transverse dimensions are. it, however, should be possible to standardize the longitudinal positions of the holding down bolts as the engine designer would still be able to allow himself considerable space fore-and-aft of the bolts. [illustration: fig. .--end elevation of hall-scott a- four-cylinder motor, with installation dimensions.] hall-scott engine installation [illustration: fig. .--plan and side elevation of hall-scott a- four-cylinder airplane engine, with installation dimensions.] the very thorough manner in which installation diagrams are prepared by the leading engine makers leaves nothing to the imagination. the dimensions of the hall-scott four-cylinder airplane engine are given clearly in our inch measurements with the metric equivalents at figs. and , the former showing a vertical elevation while the latter has a plan view and side elevation. the installation of this engine in airplanes is clearly shown at figs. and , the former having the radiator installed at the front of the motor and having all exhaust pipes joined to one common discharge funnel, which deflects the gas over the top plane while the latter has the radiator placed vertically above the motor at the back end and has a direct exhaust gas discharge to the air. [illustration: fig. . censored] [illustration: fig. . censored] the dimensions of the six-cylinder hall-scott motor which is known as the type a- h. p. are given at fig. , which is an end sectional elevation, and at fig. , which is a plan view. the dimensions are given both in inch sizes and the metric equivalents. the appearance of a hall-scott six-cylinder engine installed in a fuselage is given at fig. , while a diagram showing the location of the engine and the various pipes leading to the auxiliary groups is outlined at fig. . the following instructions for installing the hall-scott power plant are reproduced from the instruction book issued by the maker. operating instructions which are given should enable any good mechanic to make a proper installation and to keep the engine in good running condition. [illustration: fig. . censored] fuel system installation [illustration: fig. .--plan view of hall-scott type a- horse-power airplane engine, showing installation dimensions.] gasoline giving the best results with this equipment is as follows: gravity - deg. baume a. initial boiling point--richmond method-- ° fahr. sulphur . . calorimetric bomb test b. t. u. per pound. if the gasoline tank is placed in the fuselage below the level of the carburetor, a hand pump must be used to maintain air pressure in gas tank to force the gasoline to the carburetor. after starting the engine the small auxiliary air pump upon the engine will maintain sufficient pressure. a- a and a- a engines are furnished with a new type auxiliary air pump. this should be frequently oiled and care taken so no grit or sand will enter which might lodge between the valve and its seat, which would make it fail to operate properly. an air relief valve is furnished with each engine. it should be screwed into the gas tank and properly regulated to maintain the pressure required. this is done by screwing the ratchet on top either up or down. if two tanks are used in a plane one should be installed in each tank. all air pump lines should be carefully gone over quite frequently to ascertain if they are tight. check valves have to be placed in these lines. in some cases the gasoline tank is placed above the engine, allowing it to drain by gravity to the carburetor. when using this system there should be a drop of not less than two feet from the lowest portion of the gasoline tank to the upper part of the carburetor float chamber. even this height might not be sufficient to maintain the proper volume of gasoline to the carburetor at high speeds. air pressure is advised upon all tanks to insure the proper supply of gasoline. when using gravity feed without air pressure be sure to vent the tank to allow circulation of air. if gravity tank is used and the engine runs satisfactorily at low speeds but cuts out at high speeds the trouble is undoubtedly due to insufficient height of the tank above the carburetor. the tank should be raised or air pressure system used. [illustration: fig. .--three-quarter view of hall-scott type a- horse-power six-cylinder engine, with one of the side radiators removed to show installation in standard fuselage.] [illustration: fig. .--diagram showing proper installation of hall-scott type a- horse-power engine with pressure feed fuel supply system.] ignition switches two "dixie" switches are furnished with each engine. both of these should be installed in the pilot's seat, one controlling the r. h., and the other the l. h. magneto. by shorting either one or the other it can be quickly determined if both magnetos, with their respective spark-plugs, are working correctly. care should be taken not to use spark-plugs having _special extensions or long protruding points_. plugs giving best results are extremely small with short points. water systems a temperature gauge should be installed in the water pipe, coming directly from the cylinder nearest the propeller (note illustration above). this instrument installed in the radiator cap has not always given satisfactory results. this is especially noticeable when the water in the radiator becomes low, not allowing it to touch the bulb on the moto-meter. for ordinary running, it should not indicate over degrees fahr. in climbing tests, however, a temperature of degrees fahr. can be maintained without any ill effects upon the engine. in case the engine becomes overheated, the indicator will register above degrees fahr., in which case it should be stopped immediately. overheating is most generally caused by retarded spark, excessive carbon in the cylinders, insufficient lubrication, improperly timed valves, lack of water, clogging of water system in any way which would obstruct the free circulation of the water. overheating will cause the engine to knock, with possible damaging results. suction pipes should be made out of thin tubing, and run within a quarter or an eighth of an inch of each other, so that when a hose is placed over the two, it will not be possible to suck together. this is often the case when a long rubber hose is used, which causes overheating. radiators should be flushed out and cleaned thoroughly quite often. a dirty radiator may cause overheating. when filling the radiator it is very important to remove the plug on top of the water pump until water appears. this is to avoid air pockets being formed in the circulating system, which might not only heat up the engine, but cause considerable damage. all water pump hoses and connections should be tightly taped and shellacked after the engine is properly installed in the plane. the greatest care should be taken when making engine installation _not_ to use smaller inside diameter hose connection than water pump suction end casting. one inch and a quarter inside diameter should be used on a- and a- motors, while nothing less than one inch and a half inside diameter hose or tubing on all a- a and a- a engines. it is further important to have light spun tubing, void of any sharp turns, leads from pump to radiator and cylinder water outlet to radiator. in other words, the water circulation through the engine must be as little restricted as possible. be sure no light hose is used, that will often suck together when engine is started. to thoroughly drain the water from the entire system, open the drain cock at the lowest side of the water pump. preparations to start engine always replenish gasoline tanks through a strainer which is clean. this strainer must catch all water and other impurities in the gasoline. pour at least three gallons of fresh oil into the lower crank-case. oil all rocker arms through oilers upon rocker arm housing caps. be sure radiators are filled within one inch of the top. after all the parts are oiled, and the tanks filled, the following must be looked after before starting: see if crank-shaft flange is tight on shaft. see if propeller bolts are tight and evenly drawn up. see if propeller bolts are wired. see if propeller is trued up to within / ". every four days the magnetos should be oiled if the engine is in daily use. every month all cylinder hold-down nuts should be gone over to ascertain if they are tight. (be sure to recotter nuts.) see if magnetos are bolted on tight and wired. see if magneto cables are in good condition. see if rocker arm tappets have a . " clearance from valve stem when valve is seated. see if tappet clamp screws are tight and cottered. see if all gasoline, oil, water pipes and connections are in perfect condition. air on gas line should be tested for leaks. pump at least three pounds air pressure into gasoline tank. after making sure that above rules have been observed, test compression of cylinders by turning propeller. "do not forget to short both magnetos" be sure all compression release and priming cocks do not leak compression. if they do, replace same with a new one immediately, as this might cause premature firing. open priming cocks and squirt some gasoline into each. close cocks. open compression release cocks. open throttle slightly. if using berling magnetos they should be three-quarters advanced. if all the foregoing directions have been carefully followed, the engine is ready for starting. in cranking engine either by starting crank, or propeller, it is essential to throw it over compression quickly. immediately upon starting, close compression release cocks. when engine is running, advance magnetos. after it has warmed up, short one magneto and then the other, to be sure both magnetos and spark-plugs are firing properly. if there is a miss, the fouled plug must be located and cleaned. there is a possibility that the jets in the carburetor are stopped up. if this is the case, do not attempt to clean same with any sharp instrument. if this is done, it might change the opening in the jets, thus spoiling the adjustment. jets and nozzles should be blown out with air or steam. an open intake or exhaust valve, which might have become sluggish or stuck from carbon, might cause trouble. be sure to remedy this at once by using a little coal-oil or kerosene on same, working the valve by hand until it becomes free. we recommend using graphite on valve stems mixed with oil to guard against sticking or undue wear. installing rotary and radial cylinder engines [illustration: fig. .--diagram defining installation of gnome "monosoupape" motor in tractor biplane. note necessary piping for fuel, oil, and air lines.] when rotary engines are installed simple steel stamping or "spiders," are attached to the fuselage to hold the fixed crank-shaft. inasmuch as the motor projects clear of the fuselage proper there is plenty of room back of the front spider plate to install the auxiliary parts such as the oil pump, air pump and ignition magneto and also the fuel and oil containers. the diagram given at fig. shows how a gnome "monosoupape" engine is installed on the anchorage plates and it also outlines clearly the piping necessary to convey the oil and fuel and also the air-piping needed to put pressure on both fuel and oil tanks to insure positive supply of these liquids which may be carried in tanks placed lower than the motor in some installations. the diagram given at figs. and shows other mountings of gnome engines and are self-explanatory. the simple mounting possible when the anzani ten-cylinder radial fixed type engine is used given at fig. . the front end of the fuselage is provided with a substantial pressed steel plate having members projecting from it which may be bolted to the longerons. the bolts that hold the two halves of the crank-case together project through the steel plate and hold the engine securely to the front end of the fuselage. [illustration: fig. .--showing two methods of placing propeller on gnome rotary motor.] practical hints to locate engine troubles [illustration: fig. .--how gnome rotary motor may be attached to airplane fuselage members.] one who is not thoroughly familiar with engine construction will seldom locate troubles by haphazard experimenting and it is only by a systematic search that the cause can be discovered and the defects eliminated. in this chapter the writer proposes to outline some of the most common power-plant troubles and to give sufficient advice to enable those who are not thoroughly informed to locate them by a logical process of elimination. the internal-combustion motor, which is the power plant of all gasoline automobiles as well as airplanes, is composed of a number of distinct groups, which in turn include distinct components. these various appliances are so closely related to each other that defective action of any one may interrupt the operation of the entire power plant. some of the auxiliary groups are more necessary than others and the power plant will continue to operate for a time even after the failure of some important parts of some of the auxiliary groups. the gasoline engine in itself is a complete mechanism, but it is evident that it cannot deliver any power without some means of supplying gas to the cylinders and igniting the compressed gas charge after it has been compressed in the cylinders. from this it is patent that the ignition and carburetion systems are just as essential parts of the power plant as the piston, connecting rod, or cylinder of the motor. the failure of either the carburetor or igniting means to function properly will be immediately apparent by faulty action of the power plant. [illustration: fig. .--how anzani ten-cylinder radial engine is installed to plate securely attached to front end of tractor airplane fuselage.] to insure that the motor will continue to operate it is necessary to keep it from overheating by some form of cooling system and to supply oil to the moving parts to reduce friction. the cooling and lubrication groups are not so important as carburetion and ignition, as the engine would run for a limited period of time even should the cooling system fail or the oil supply cease. it would only be a few moments, however, before the engine would overheat if the cooling system was at fault, and the parts seize if the lubricating system should fail. any derangement in the carburetor or ignition mechanism would manifest itself at once because the engine operation would be affected, but a defect in the cooling or oiling system would not be noticed so readily. the careful aviator will always inspect the motor mechanism before starting on a trip of any consequence, and if inspection is carefully carried out and loose parts tightened it is seldom that irregular operation will be found due to actual breakage of any of the components of the mechanism. deterioration due to natural causes matures slowly, and sufficient warning is always given when parts begin to wear so satisfactory repairs may be promptly made before serious derangement or failure is manifested. a typical engine stoppage analyzed before describing the points that may fail in the various auxiliary systems it will be well to assume a typical case of engine failure and show the process of locating the trouble in a systematic manner by indicating the various steps which are in logical order and which could reasonably be followed. in any case of engine failure the ignition system, motor compression, and carburetor should be tested first. if the ignition system is functioning properly one should determine the amount of compression in all cylinders and if this is satisfactory the carbureting group should be tested. if the ignition system is working properly and there is a decided resistance in the cylinders when the propeller is turned, proving that there is good compression, one may suspect the carburetor. [illustration: fig. .--side elevation of thomas horse-power airplane engine, giving important dimensions.] if the carburetor appears to be in good condition, the trouble may be caused by the ignition being out of time, which condition is possible when the magneto timing gear or coupling is attached to the armature shaft by a taper and nut retention instead of the more positive key or taper-pin fastening. it is possible that the inlet manifold may be broken or perforated, that the exhaust valve is stuck on its seat because of a broken or bent stem, broken or loose cam, or failure of the cam-shaft drive because the teeth are stripped from the engine shaft or cam-shaft gears; or because the key or other fastening on either gear has failed, allowing that member to turn independently of the shaft to which it normally is attached. the gasoline feed pipe may be clogged or broken, the fuel supply may be depleted, or the shut-off cock in the gasoline line may have jarred closed. the gasoline filter may be filled with dirt or water which prevents passage of the fuel. [illustration: fig. .--front elevation of thomas-morse horse-power aeromotor, showing main dimensions.] the defects outlined above, except the failure of the gasoline supply, are very rare, and if the container is found to contain fuel and the pipe line to be clear to the carburetor, it is safe to assume the vaporizing device is at fault. if fuel continually runs out of the mixing chamber the carburetor is said to be flooded. this condition results from failure of the shut-off needle to seat properly or from a punctured hollow metal float or a gasoline-soaked cork float. it is possible that not enough gasoline is present in the float chamber. if the passage controlled by the float-needle valve is clogged or if the float was badly out of adjustment, this contingency would be probable. when the carburetor is examined, if the gasoline level appears to be at the proper height, one may suspect that a particle of lint, or dust, or fine scale, or rust from the gasoline tank has clogged the bore of the jet in the mixing chamber. if the ignition system and carburetor appear to be in good working order, and the hand crank shows that there is no compression in one or more of the cylinders, it means some defect in the valve system. if the engine is a multiple-cylinder type and one finds poor compression in all of the cylinders it may be due to the rare defect of improper valve timing. this may be caused by a gear having altered its position on the cam-shaft or crank-shaft, because of a sheared key or pin having permitted the gear to turn about half of a revolution and then having caught and held the gear in place by a broken or jagged end so that cam-shaft would turn, but the valves open at the wrong time. if but one of the cylinders is at fault and the rest appear to have good compression the trouble may be due to a defective condition either inside or outside of that cylinder. the external parts may be inspected easily, so the following should be looked for: a broken valve, a warped valve-head, broken valve-springs, sticking or bent valve-stems, dirt under valve-seat, leak at valve-chamber cap or spark-plug gasket. defective priming cock, cracked cylinder head (rarely occurs), leak through cracked spark-plug insulation, valve-plunger stuck in the guide, lack of clearance between valve-stem end and top of plunger caused by loose adjusting screw which has worked up and kept the valve from seating. the faulty compression may be due to defects inside the motor. the piston-head may be cracked (rarely occurs), piston rings may be broken, the slots in the piston rings may be in line, the rings may have lost their elasticity or have become gummed in the grooves of the piston, or the piston and cylinder walls may be badly scored by a loose wrist pin or by defective lubrication. if the motor is a type with a separate head it is possible the gasket or packing between the cylinder and combustion chamber may leak, either admitting water to the cylinder or allowing compression to escape. [illustration: fig. .--front and side elevations of sturtevant airplane engine, giving principal dimensions to facilitate installation.] conditions that cause failure of ignition system if the first test of the motor had showed that the compression was as it should be and that there were no serious mechanical defects and there was plenty of gasoline at the carburetor, this would have demonstrated that the ignition system was not functioning properly. if a battery is employed to supply current the first step is to take the spark-plugs out of the cylinders and test the system by turning over the engine by hand. if there is no spark in any of the plugs, this may be considered a positive indication that there is a broken main current lead from the battery, a defective ground connection, a loose battery terminal, or a broken connector. if none of these conditions are present, it is safe to say that the battery is no longer capable of delivering current. while magneto ignition is generally used on airplane engines, there is apt to be some development of battery ignition, especially on engines equipped with electric self-starters which are now being experimented with. the spark-plugs may be short circuited by cracked insulation or carbon and oil deposits around the electrode. the secondary wires may be broken or have defective insulation which permits the current to ground to some metal part of the fuselage or motor. the electrodes of the spark-plug may be too far apart to permit a spark to overcome the resistance of the compressed gas, even if a spark jumps the air space, when the plug is laid on the cylinder. if magnetos are fitted as is usually the case at present and a spark is obtained between the points of the plug and that device or the wire leading to it from the magneto is in proper condition, the trouble is probably caused by the magneto being out of time. this may result if the driving gear is loose on the armature-shaft or crank-shaft, and is a rare occurrence. if no spark is produced at the plugs the secondary wire may be broken, the ground wire may make contact with some metallic portion of the chassis before it reaches the switch, the carbon collecting brushes may be broken or not making contact, the contact points of the make-and-break device may be out of adjustment, the wiring may be attached to wrong terminals, the distributor filled with metallic particles, carbon, dust or oil accumulations, the distributor contacts may not be making proper connection because of wear and there may be a more serious derangement, such as a burned out secondary winding or a punctured condenser. if the motor runs intermittently, _i.e._, starts and runs only a few revolutions, aside from the conditions previously outlined, defective operation may be due to seizing between parts because of insufficient oil or deficient cooling, too much oil in the crank-case which fouls the cylinder after the crank-shaft has revolved a few turns, and derangements in the ignition or carburetion systems that may be easily remedied. there are a number of defective conditions which may exist in the ignition group, that will result in "skipping" or irregular operation and the following points should be considered first: weak source of current due to worn out dry cells or discharged storage batteries; weak magnets in magneto, or defective contacts at magneto; dirt in magneto distributor or poor contact at collecting brushes. dirty or cracked insulator at spark-plug will cause short circuit and can only be detected by careful examination. the following points should also be checked over when the plug is inspected: excessive space between electrodes, points too close together, loose central electrodes, or loose point on plug body, soot or oil particles between electrodes, or on the surface of the insulator, cracked insulator, oil or water on outside of insulator. short circuits in the condenser or internal wiring of induction coils or magnetos, which are fortunately not common, can seldom be remedied except at the factory where these devices were made. if an engine stops suddenly and the defect is in the ignition system the trouble is usually never more serious than a broken or loose wire. this may be easily located by inspecting the wiring at the terminals. irregular operation or misfiring is harder to locate because the trouble can only be found after the many possible defective conditions have been checked over, one by one. common defects in fuel systems defective carburetion often causes misfiring or irregular operation. the common derangement of the components of the fuel system that are common enough to warrant suspicion and the best methods for their location follows: first, disconnect the feed pipe from the carburetor and see if the gasoline flows freely from the tank. if the stream coming out of the pipe is not the full size of the orifice it is an indication that the pipe is clogged with dirt or that there is an accumulation of rust, scale, or lint in the strainer screens of the filter. it is also possible that the fuel shut-off valve may be wholly or partly closed. if the gasoline flows by gravity the liquid may be air bound in the tank, while if a pressure-feed system is utilized the tank may leak so that it does not retain pressure; the check valve retaining the pressure may be defective or the pipe conveying the air or gas under pressure to the tank may be clogged. if the gasoline flows from the pipe in a steady stream the carburetor demands examination. there may be dirt or water in the float chamber, which will constrict the passage between the float chamber and the spray nozzle, or a particle of foreign matter may have entered the nozzle and stopped up the fine holes therein. the float may bind on its guide, the needle valve regulating the gasoline-inlet opening in bowl may stick to its seat. any of the conditions mentioned would cut down the gasoline supply and the engine would not receive sufficient quantities of gas. the air-valve spring may be weak or the air valve broken. the gasoline-adjusting needle may be loose and jar out of adjustment, or the air-valve spring-adjusting nuts may be such a poor fit on the stem that adjustments will not be retained. these instructions apply only to carburetors having air valves and mixture regulating means which are used only in rare instances in airplane work. air may leak in through the manifold, due to a porous casting, or leaky joints in a built up form and dilute the mixture. the air-intake dust screen may be so clogged with dirt and lint that not enough air will pass through the mesh. water or sediment in the gasoline will cause misfiring because the fuel feed varies when the water or dirt constricts the standpipe bore. it is possible that the carburetor may be out of adjustment. if clouds of black smoke are emitted at the exhaust pipe it is positive indication that too much gasoline is being supplied the mixture and the supply should be cut down by screwing in the needle valve on types where this method of regulation is provided, and by making sure that the fuel level is at the proper height, or that the proper nozzle is used in those forms where the spray nozzle has no means of adjustment. if the mixture contains too much air there will be a pronounced popping back in the carburetor. this may be overcome by screwing in the air-valve adjustment so the spring tension is increased or by slightly opening up the gasoline-supply regulation needle. when a carburetor is properly adjusted and the mixture delivered the cylinder burns properly, the exhaust gas will be clean and free from the objectionable odor present when gasoline is burned in excess. the character of combustion may be judged by the color of the flame which issues from it when the engine is running with an open throttle after nightfall. if the flame is red, it indicates too much gasoline. if yellowish, it shows an excess of air, while a properly proportioned mixture will be evidenced by a pronounced blue flame, such as given by a gas-stove burner. the duplex model o. d. zenith carburetor used upon most of the six- and eight-cylinder airplane engines consists of a single float chamber, and a single air intake, joined to two separate and distinct spray nozzles, venturi and idling adjustments. it is to be noted that as the carburetor barrels are arranged side by side, both valves are mounted on the same shaft, and work in unison through a single operating lever. it is not necessary to alter their position. in order to make the engine idle well, it is essential that the ignition, especially the spark-plugs, should be in good condition. the gaskets between carburetor and manifold, and between manifold and cylinders should be absolutely air-tight. the adjustment for low speed on the carburetor is made by turning in or out the two knurled screws, placed one on each side of the float chamber. after starting the engine and allowing it to become thoroughly warmed, one side of the carburetor should be adjusted so that the three cylinders it affects fire properly at low speed. the other side should be adjusted in the same manner until all six cylinders fire perfectly at low speed. as the adjustment is changed on the knurled screw a difference in the idling of the engine should be noticed. if the engine begins to run evenly or speeds up it shows that the mixture becomes right in its proportion. be sure the butterfly throttle is closed as far as possible by screwing out the stop screw which regulates the closed position for idling. care should be taken to have the butterfly held firmly against this stop screw at all times while idling engine. if three cylinders seem to run irregularly after changing the position of the butterfly, still another adjustment may have to be made with the knurled screw. unscrewing this makes the mixture leaner. screwing in closes off some of the air supply to the idling jet, making it richer. after one side has been made to idle satisfactorily repeat the same procedure with the opposite three cylinders. in other words, each side should be idled independently to about the same speed. remember that the main jet and compensating jet have no appreciable effect on the idling of the engine. the idling mixture is drawn directly through the opening determined by the knurled screw and enters the carburetor barrel through the small hole at the edge of each butterfly. this is called the priming hole and is only effective during idling. beyond that point the suction is transferred to the main jet and compensator, which controls the power of the engine beyond the idling position of the throttle. defects in oiling systems while troubles existing in the ignition or carburetion groups are usually denoted by imperfect operation of the motor, such as lost power, and misfiring, derangements of the lubrication or cooling systems are usually evident by overheating, diminution in engine capacity, or noisy operation. overheating may be caused by poor carburetion as much as by deficient cooling or insufficient oiling. when the oiling group is not functioning as it should the friction between the motor parts produces heat. if the cooling system is in proper condition, as will be evidenced by the condition of the water in the radiator, and the carburetion group appears to be in good condition, the overheating is probably caused by some defect in the oiling system. the conditions that most commonly result in poor lubrication are: insufficient oil in the engine crank-case or sump, broken or clogged oil pipes, screen at filter filled with lint or dirt, broken oil pump, or defective oil-pump drive. the supply of oil may be reduced by a defective inlet or discharge-check valve at the mechanical oiler or worn pumps. a clogged oil passage or pipe leading to an important bearing point will cause trouble because the oil cannot get between the working surfaces. it is well to remember that much of the trouble caused by defective oiling may be prevented by using only the best grades of lubricant, and even if all parts of the oil system are working properly, oils of poor quality will cause friction and overheating. defects in cooling systems outlined cooling systems are very simple and are not liable to give trouble as a rule if the radiator is kept full of clean water and the circulation is not impeded. when overheating is due to defective cooling the most common troubles are those that impede water circulation. if the radiator is clogged or the piping of water jackets filled with rust or sediment the speed of water circulation will be slow, which will also be the case if the water pump or its driving means fail. any scale or sediment in the water jackets or in the piping or radiator passages will reduce the heat conductivity of the metal exposed to the air, and the water will not be cooled as quickly as though the scale was not present. the rubber hose often used in making the flexible connections demanded between the radiator and water manifolds of the engine may deteriorate inside and particles of rubber hang down that will reduce the area of the passage. the grease from the grease cups mounted on the pump-shaft bearing to lubricate that member often finds its way into the water system and rots the inner walls of the rubber hose, this resulting in strips of the partly decomposed rubber lining hanging down and restricting the passage. the cooling system is prone to overheat after antifreezing solutions of which calcium chloride forms a part have been used. this is due to the formation of crystals of salt in the radiator passages or water jackets, and these crystals can only be dissolved by suitable chemical means, or removed by scraping when the construction permits. overheating is often caused by some condition in the fuel system that produces too rich or too lean mixture. excess gasoline may be supplied if any of the following conditions are present: bore of spray nozzle or standpipe too large, auxiliary air-valve spring too tight, gasoline level too high, loose regulating valve, fuel-soaked cork float, punctured sheet-metal float, dirt under float control shut-off valve or insufficient air supply because of a clogged air screen. if pressure feed is utilized there may be too much pressure in the tank, or the float controlled mechanism operating the shut-off in the float bowl of the carburetor may not act quickly enough. some causes of noisy operation there are a number of power-plant derangements which give positive indication because of noisy operation. any knocking or rattling sounds are usually produced by wear in connecting rods or main bearings of the engine, though sometimes a sharp metallic knock, which is very much the same as that produced by a loose bearing, is due to carbon deposits in the cylinder heads, or premature ignition due to advanced spark-time lever. squeaking sounds invariably indicate dry bearings, and whenever such a sound is heard it should be immediately located and oil applied to the parts thus denoting their dry condition. whistling or blowing sounds are produced by leaks, either in the engine itself or in the gas manifolds. a sharp whistle denotes the escape of gas under pressure and is usually caused by a defective packing or gasket that seals a portion of the combustion chamber or that is used for a joint as the exhaust manifold. a blowing sound indicates a leaky packing in crank-case. grinding noises in the motor are usually caused by the timing gears and will obtain if these gears are dry or if they have become worn. whenever a loud knocking sound is heard careful inspection should be made to locate the cause of the trouble. much harm may be done in a few minutes if the engine is run with loose connecting rod or bearings that would be prevented by taking up the wear or looseness between the parts by some means of adjustment. brief summary of hints for starting engine first make sure that all cylinders have compression. to ascertain this, open pet cocks of all cylinders except the one to be tested, crank over motor and see that a strong opposition to cranking is met with once in two revolutions. if motor has no pet cocks, crank and notice that oppositions are met at equal distances, two to every revolution of the starting crank in a four-cylinder motor. if compression is lacking, examine the parts of the cylinder or cylinders at fault in the following order, trying to start the motor whenever any one fault is found and remedied. see that the valve push rods or rocker arms do not touch valve stems for more than approximately / revolution in every revolutions, and that there is not more than . to . inch clearance between them depending on the make of the motor. make sure that the exhaust valve seats. to determine this examine the spring and see that it is connected to the valve stem properly. take out valve and see that there is no obstruction, such as carbon, on its seat. see that valve works freely in its guide. examine inlet valve in same manner. listen for hissing sound while cranking motor for leaks at other places. make sure that a spark occurs in each cylinder as follows: if magneto or magneto and battery with non-vibrating coil is used: disconnect wire from spark-plug, hold end about / inch from cylinder or terminal of spark-plug. have motor cranked briskly and see if spark occurs. examine adjustment of interrupter points. see that wires are placed correctly and not short circuited. take out spark-plug and lay it on the cylinder, being careful that base of plug only touches the cylinder and that ignition wire is connected. have motor cranked briskly and see if spark occurs. check timing of magneto and see that all brushes are making contact. see if there is gasoline in the carburetor. see that there is gasoline in the tank. examine valve at tank. prime carburetor and see that spray nozzle passage is clear. be sure throttle is open. prime cylinders by putting about a teaspoonful of gasoline in through pet cock or spark-plug opening. adjust carburetor if necessary. location of engine troubles made easy the following tabulation has been prepared and originated by the writer to outline in a simple manner the various troubles and derangements that interfere with efficient internal-combustion engine action. the parts and their functions are practically the same in all gas or gasoline engines of the four-cycle type, and the general instructions given apply just as well to all hydro-carbon engines, even if the parts differ in form materially. the essential components are clearly indicated in the many part sectional drawings in this book so they may be easily recognized. the various defects that may materialize are tabulated in a manner that makes for ready reference, and the various defective conditions are found opposite the part affected, and under a heading that denotes the main trouble to which the others are contributing causes. the various symptoms denoting the individual troubles outlined are given to facilitate their recognition in a positive manner. brief note is also made of the remedies for the restoration of the defective part or condition. it is apparent that a table of this character is intended merely as a guide, and it is a compilation of practically all the known troubles that may materialize in gas-engine operation. while most of the defects outlined are common enough to warrant suspicion, they will never exist in an engine all at the same time, and it will be necessary to make a systematic search for such of those as exist. to use the list advantageously, it is necessary to know one main trouble easily recognized. for example, if the power plant is noisy, look for the possible troubles under the head of noisy operation; if it lacks capacity, the derangement will undoubtedly be found under the head of lost power. it is assumed in all cases that the trouble exists in the power plant or its components, and not in the auxiliary members of the ignition, carburetion, lubrication, or cooling systems. the novice and student will readily recognize the parts of the average aviation engine by referring to the very complete and clearly lettered illustrations of mechanism given in many parts of this treatise. lost power and overheating ------------------+------------------+------------------+-------------------- part affected |nature of trouble | symptoms and | remedy | | effects | ------------------+------------------+------------------+-------------------- water pipe joint. |loose. |loss of water, |tighten bolts, | |heating. |replace gaskets. | | | spark plug. |leakage in |loss of power. |replace insulation |threads, |hissing caused by |if defective, screw |insulation, |escaping gas. |down tighter. |packing. | | | | | compression |leak in threads. |loss of power. |tighten if loose. release cock. |leak in fitting. |whistling or |grind fitting to | |hissing. |new seating in | | |body. | | | combustion |crack or blowhole.|loss of compres- |fill by welding. chamber. |roughness. carbon |sion. preignition.|smooth out |deposits. sharp | |roughness. scrape |edges. | |out or dissolve | | |carbon. | | | valve chamber cap.|leak in threads. |loss of compres- |remove. apply pipe |defective gasket. |sion. hissing. |compound to threads | | |and replace. use | | |new gasket or | | |packing. | | | valve head. |warped. scored or |loss of compres- |true up in lathe. |pitted. carbon- |sion. |grind to seat. |ized. covered with| |scrape off. smooth |scale. loose on | |with emery cloth. |stem (two-piece | |tighten by |valves only). | |riveting. | | | valve seat. |warped or pitted. |loss of compres- |use reseating |covered with car- |sion. |reamer. clean off |bon. foreign mat- | |and grind valve to |ter between valve | |seat. |and seat. | | | | | valve stem. |covered with |valve does not |clean with emery |scale. bent. bind-|close. loss of |cloth; straighten. |ing in guide. |compression. |true up and smooth |stuck in guide. | |off. free with | | |kerosene. | | | valve stem guide. |burnt or rough. |valve may stick. |clean out hole. |loose in valve |action irregular. |screw in tighter. |chamber. | | | | | valve spring. |weak or broken. |valve does not | | |close. | | | | valve operating |loose in guide. |valve action poor.|replace with new. plunger. |too much clearance|lift insufficient.|adjust screw closer. |between valve | | |stem. | | | | | valve lift ad- |threads stripped. |poor valve action.|replace with new. justing screw. |too near valve. | |adjust with proper |too far from | |reference to valve |valve. | |stem. | | | valve lift cam. |worn cam contour. |not enough valve |replace with new. |loose on shaft. |lift. will not |replace pins or |out of time. |lift valve. valve |keys. set to open | |opens at wrong |properly. | |time. | | | | cam-shaft. |sprung or twisted.|valves out of |straighten. | |time. | | | | cam-shaft bushing.|worn. |not enough valve |replace. | |lift. | | | | cam-shaft drive |loose on shaft. |irregular valve |fasten securely. gear. |out of time. worn |action. |time properly. |or broken teeth. | |replace with new. | | | cam fastenings. |worn or broken. |valves out of |replace with new. | |time. | | | | cylinder wall. |scored, gas leaks.|poor compression. |grind out bore. |poor lubrication |overheating. |repair oiling |causes friction. | |system. | | | piston. |binds in cylinder.|overheating. poor |lap off excess |walls scored. worn|compression. |metal. replace with |out of round. | |new. | | | piston rings. |loss of spring. |loss of compres- |peen ring or |loose in grooves. |sion. gas blows |replace. fit new |scored. worn or |by. |rings. grind smooth. |broken. slots in | |replace. turn slots |line. | |apart. | | | |carbon in grooves.|overheating be- |remove deposits. |insufficient open-|cause of friction.|file slot. grind or |ing. binding on | |lap to fit cylinder |cylinder. | |bore. | | | wristpin. |loose, scores |loss of compres- |fasten securely. |cylinder. |sion. |replace cylinder if | | |groove is deep. | | | crank-shaft. |scored or rough on|overheating be- |smooth up. |journals. sprung. |cause of friction.|straighten. | | | crank bearings. |adjusted too |overheating be- |adjust freely, clean main bearings. |tight. defective |cause of friction.|out oil holes and |oiling. brasses | |enlarge oil grooves. |burned. | | | | | oil sump. |insufficient oil. |overheating. |replenish supply. |poor lubricant. | |use best oil. wash |dirty oil. | |out with kerosene; | | |put in clean oil. | | | water space. water|clogged with sedi-|overheating. |dissolve foreign pipes. |ment or scale. | |matter and remove. | | | piston head. |cracked (rare). |loss of compres- |weld by autogenous |carbon deposits. |sion. preignition.|process. scrape off | | |carbon accumula- | | |tions. ------------------+------------------+------------------+-------------------- noisy operation of power plant ------------------+------------------+------------------+-------------------- part affected |nature of trouble | character of | remedy | | noise | ------------------+------------------+------------------+-------------------- compression re- |leakage. |hissing. |previously given. lease cock. | | | | | | spark plug. |leakage. |hissing. |previously given. | | | valve chamber cap.|leakage. |hiss or whistle. |previously given. | | | combustion |carbon deposits. |knocking. |previously given. chamber. | | | | | | inlet valve seat. |defects previously|popping in carbu- |previously given. |given. |retor. | | | | valve head. |loose on stem. |clicking. |previously given. | | | valve stem. valve |wear or looseness.|rattle or click- |previously given. stem guide. | |ing. | | | | inlet valve. |closes too late. |blowback in carbu-|previously given. |opens too early. |retor. | | | | valve spring. |weak or broken. |blowback in carbu-|previously given. | |retor. | | | | cylinder casting. |retaining bolts |sharp metallic |tighten bolts. round |loose. piston |knock. |edges of piston |strikes at upper | |top. |end. | | | | | cylinder wall. |scored. |hissing. |previously given. | | | valve stem |too much. |clicking. blowback|previously given. clearance. |too little (inlet |in carburetor. | |valve). | | | | | valve operating |looseness. |rattle or click- |previously given. plunger. plunger | |ing. | guide. | | | | | | timing gears. |loose on fasten- |metallic knock. |previously given. |ings. worn teeth. |rattle. grinding. | | | | cylinder or |no oil, or poor |grinding. |repair oil system. piston. |lubricant. | | | | | cam. |loose on shaft. |metallic knock. |previously given. |worn contour. | | | | | cam-shaft bearing.|looseness or wear.|slight knock. |previously given. | | | cam fastening. |looseness. |clicking. |previously given. | | | piston. |binding in cylin- |grinding or dull |previously given. |der. worn oval, |squeak. dull | |causes side slap |hammering. | |in cylinder. | | | | | piston head. |carbon deposits. |knocking. |previously given. | | | piston rings. |defective oiling. |squeaking. hiss- |previously given. |leakage. binding |ing. grinding. | |in cylinder. | | | | | wrist-pin. |loose in piston. |dull metallic |replace with new |worn. |knock. |member. | | | connecting rod. |wear in upper |distinct knock. |adjust or replace. |bushing. wear at | |scrape and fit. use |crank-pin. side | |longer wrist-pin |play in piston. | |bushing. | | | crank bearings. |looseness. exces- |metallic knock. |refit bearings. |sive end play. |intermittent |longer bushings |binding, fitted |knock. squeaking. |needed. insert shims |too tight. | |to allow more play. | | | main bearings. |looseness. defec- |metallic knock. |fit brasses closer |tive lubrication. |squeaking. |to shaft. clean out | | |oil holes and | | |grooves. | | | connecting rod |loose. |sharp knock. |tighten. bolts. main | | | bearing bolts. | | | | | | crank-shaft. |defective oiling. |squeaking. |previously given. | | | engine base. |loose on frame. |sharp pounding. |tighten bolts. | | | lower half crank- |bolts loose. |knocking. |tighten bolts. case. | | | | | | fly-wheel. |loose on crank- |very sharp knock. |tighten retention |shaft. | |bolts or fit new | | |keys. | | | oil sump. |oil level too low.|grinding and |replenish with best |poor lubricant. |squeak in all |cylinder oil. | |bearings. | | | | valve plunger re- |looseness. |clicking. |tighten nuts. tention stirrups. | | | | | | fan. |blade loose. blade|clicking or |tighten. bend back. |strikes cooler. |rattle. | | | | exhaust pipe |leakage. |sharp hissing. |tighten or use new joints. | | |gasket. | | | crank-case |leakage. |blowing sound. |use new packing. packing. | | |tighten bolts. | | | water pipe. |leaks. loss of |pounding because |previously given. |water. clogged |engine heats. | |with sediment. | | | | | water jacket. |clogged with sedi-|knocking because |dissolve scale and |ment. walls |engine heats. |flush out water |covered with | |space with water |scale. | |under pressure. --------------------+------------------+------------------+-------------------- "skipping" or irregular operation ------------------+------------------+------------------+-------------------- part affected |nature of trouble | symptoms and | remedy | | effects | ------------------+------------------+------------------+-------------------- compression relief|leak in threads or|dilutes mixture |screw down tighter. cock. |spigot. |with air, causes |grind spigot to seat | |blowback. |with emery. | | | spark-plug. |leak in threads. |dilutes mixture. |screw down tighter. |defective gasket. |allows short |replace with new. |cracked insulator.|circuit. no spark.|set points / " |points too near. | |apart for magneto, |points covered | | / " for battery |with carbon. too | |spark. |much air gap. | | | | | valve chamber cap.|leak in threads. |dilutes mixture by|previously given. |defective gasket. |allowing air to | | |enter cylinder on | | |suction stroke. | | | | combustion |carbon deposits. |preignition. |scrape out. chamber. | | | | | | valve head. |warped or pitted. |dilutes charge |previously given. |loose on stem. |with poor air or | | |gas. | | | | valve stem. |binding in guide. |irregular valve |previously given. |sticking. |action. | | | | valve seat. |scored or warped. |gas leak, poor |previously given. |cracked. covered |mixture. poor com-| |with scale. dirt |pression. valve | |under valve. |will not close. | | | | induction pipe. |leak at joints. |mixture diluted |stop all leaks. |crack or blowhole.|with excess air. | | | | inlet valve. |closes too late. |blowback in carbu-|time properly. |opens too early. |retor. | | | | exhaust valve. |opens too late. |retention of burnt|time properly. |closes too early. |gas dilutes | | |charge. | | | | valve stem guide. |bent or carbon- |causes valve to |previously given. |ized. |stick. | | | | inlet valve stem |worn, stem loose. |air drawn in on |bush guide or use guide. | |suction thins gas.|new member. | | | valve spring. |weakened or |irregular action. |use new spring. |broken. | | | | | valve stem |too little. too |valve will not |adjust gap . " clearance. |much. |shut. valve opens |inlet, . " | |late, closes |exhaust. | |early. | valve spring |broken. |releases spring. |replace. collar key. | | | | | | cam. |worn cam contour. |valve lift re- |previously given. |loose on shaft. |duced. does not | |out of time. |lift valve. valves| | |operate at wrong | | |time. | | | | cam-shaft bearing.|looseness or wear.|valve timing |replace. | |altered. valve | | |lift decreased. | | | | cam-shaft. |twisted. |valves out of |previously given. | |time. | | | | cam fastening. |worn or broken. |valve action |replace with new. | |irregular. | | | | valve operating |loose in guide. |alters valve |replace with new. plunger. | |timing. | | | | valve plunger |wear in bore. |alters valve |replace or bush. guide. |loose on engine |timing. |fasten securely. |base. | | | | | timing gears. |not properly |valves out of |retime properly. |meshed. loose on |time. valves do |fasten to shaft. |shaft. |not operate. | | | | piston. |walls scored. |leakage of gas. |smooth up if | | |possible. | | | piston head. |carbon deposits. |cause premature |previously given. |crack or blowhole |ignition. | |(rare). | | | | | piston rings. |no spring. loose |leakage weakens |previously given. |in grooves. worn |suction. | |or broken. | | | | | cylinder wall. |scored by wrist- |gas leaks by. poor|previously given. |pin. scored by |suction. | |lack of oil. | | ------------------+------------------+------------------+-------------------- ignition system troubles only _motor will not start or starts hard_ loose battery terminal. magneto ground wire shorted. magneto defective (no spark at plugs). broken spark plug insulation. carbon deposits or oil between plug points. spark-plug points too near together or far apart. wrong cables to plugs. short circuited secondary cable. broken secondary cable. dry battery weak. } storage battery discharged. } battery systems poor contact at timer. } only. timer points dirty. } poor contact at switch. } primary wires broken, or short circuited. } battery and battery grounded in metal container. } coil ignition battery connectors broken or loose. } system only. timer points out of adjustment. } defects in induction coil. } ignition timing wrong, spark too late or too early. defective platinum points in breaker box (magneto). points not separating. broken contact maker spring. no contact at secondary collector brush. platinum contact points burnt or pitted. contact breaker bell crank stuck. fiber bushing in bell crank swollen. short circuiting spring always in contact. dirt or water in magneto casing. oil in contact breaker. oil soaked brush and collector ring. distributor filled with carbon particles. _motor stops without warning_ broken magneto carbon brush. broken lead wire. broken ground wire. battery ignition systems. water on high tension magneto terminal. main secondary cable burnt through by hot exhaust pipe (transformer coil, magneto systems). particle of carbon between spark plug points. magneto short circuited by ground wire. magneto out of time, due to slipping drive. water or oil in safety spark gap (multi-cylinder magneto). magneto contact breaker or timer stuck in retard position. worn fiber block in magneto contact breaker. binding fiber bushing in contact breaker bell crank. spark advance rod or wire broken. contact breaker parts stuck. _motor runs irregularly or misfires_ loose wiring or terminals. broken spark-plug insulator. spark-plug points sooted or oily. wrong spark gap at plug points. leaking secondary cable. prematurely grounded primary wire. batteries running down (battery ignition only). poor adjustment of contact points at timer. wire broken inside of insulation. loose platinum points in magneto. weak contact spring. broken collector brush. dirt in magneto distributor casing or contact breaker. worn fiber block or cam plate in magneto. worn cam or contact roll in timer (battery system only). dirty oil in timer. sticking coil vibrators. coil vibrator points pitted. oil soaked magneto winding. punctured magneto or coil winding. distributor contact segments rough. sulphated storage battery terminals. weak magnets in magneto. poor contact at magneto contact breaker points. defects in electrical system components to further simplify the location of electrical system faults it is thought desirable to outline the defects that can be present in the various parts of the individual devices comprising the ignition system. if an airplane engine is provided with magneto ignition solely, as most engines are at the present time, no attention need be paid to such items as storage or dry batteries, timer or induction coil. there seems to be some development in the direction of battery ignition so it has been considered desirable to include components of these systems as well as the almost universally used magneto group. spark-plugs, wiring and switches are needed with either system. spark-plugs defect trouble caused remedy insulation cracked. plug inoperative. new insulation. insulation oil soaked. cylinder misfires. clean. carbon deposits. short circuited spark. remove. insulator loose. cylinder misfires. tighten. gasket broken. gas leaks by. new gasket. electrode loose on shell. cylinder misfires. tighten. wire loose in insulator. cylinder misfires. tighten. air gap too close. short circuits spark. set correctly. air gap too wide. spark will not jump. set points / " apart. loose terminal. cylinder may misfire. tighten. plug loose in cylinder. gas leaks. tighten. mica insulation oil soaked. short circuits spark. replace. magneto defect trouble caused remedy dirty oil in distributor. engine misfires. clean. metal dust in distributor. engine misfires. clean. brushes not making contact. current cannot pass. strengthen spring. distributor segments worn. engine misfires. secure even bearing. collecting brush broken. engine misfires. new brush. distributing brush broken. engine misfires. new brush. oil soaked winding. engine misfires. clean. magnets loose on pole engine misfires. tighten screws. pieces. armature rubs. engine misfires. repair bearings. bearings worn. noisy. replace. magnets weak. weak spark. recharge. contact breaker points engine misfires. clean. pitted. breaker points out of engine misfires. reset. adjustment. defective winding (rare). no spark. replace. punctured condenser (rare). weak or no spark. replace. driving gear loose. noise. tighten. magneto armature out of spark will not fire retime. time. charge. magneto loose on base. misfiring and noisy. tighten. contact breaker cam worn. misfiring. replace. fibre shoe or rolls worn misfiring. replace. (bosch). fibre bushing binding in misfiring. ream slightly. contact lever (bosch). contact lever return spring no spark. replace. broken. contact lever return spring misfiring. replace. weak. ground wire grounded. no spark. insulate. ground wire broken. engine will not stop. connect up. safety spark gap dirty. no spark. clean. fused metal in spark gap. no spark. remove. safety spark gap points too misfiring. set properly. close. loose distributor terminals. misfiring. tighten. contact breaker sticks. no spark control. remove and clean bearings. magneto switch short- no spark. insulate. circuited. magneto switch open circuit. no engine stop. restore contact. storage battery defect trouble caused remedy electrolyte low. weak current. replenish with distilled water. loose terminals. misfiring. tighten. sulphated terminals. misfiring. clean thoroughly and coat with vaseline. battery discharged. misfiring or no spark. new charge. electrolyte weak. weak current. bring to proper specific gravity. plates sulphated. poor capacity. special slow charge. sediment or mud in bottom. weak current. clean out. active material loose in poor capacity. new plates. grids. moisture or acid on top of shorts terminals. remove. cells. plugged vent cap. buckles cell jars. make vent hole. cracked vent cap. acid spills out. new cap. cracked cell jar. electrolyte runs out. new jar. dry cell battery defect trouble caused remedy broken wires. no current. new wires. loose terminals. misfiring. tighten. weak cell ( amperes or misfiring. new cells. less). cells in contact. short circuit. separate and insulate. water in battery box. short circuit. dry out. timer defect trouble caused remedy contact segments worn or misfiring. grind down pitted. smooth. platinum points pitted. misfiring. smooth with oil stone. dirty oil or metal dust in misfiring. clean out. interior. worn bearing. misfiring. replace. loose terminals. misfiring. tighten. worn revolving contact misfiring. replace. brush. out of time. irregular spark. reset. induction coil defect trouble caused remedy loose terminals. misfiring. tighten. broken connections. no spark. make new joints. vibrators out of adjustment. misfiring. readjust. vibrator points pitted. misfiring. clean. defective condenser } rare. no spark. send to maker defective winding } for repairs. poor contact at switch. misfiring. tighten. broken internal wiring. no spark. replace. poor coil unit. one cylinder affected. replace. wiring defect trouble caused remedy loose terminals anywhere. misfiring. tighten. broken plug wire. one cylinder will not replace. fire. broken timer wire. one coil will not buzz. replace. broken main battery wire. } no spark. replace. broken battery ground wire.} broken magneto ground wire. engine will not stop. replace. chafed insulation anywhere.} misfiring. insulate. short circuit anywhere. } carburetion system faults summarized _motor starts hard or will not start_ no gasoline in tank. no gasoline in carburetor float chamber. tank shut-off closed. clogged filter screen. fuel supply pipe clogged. gasoline level too low. gasoline level too high (flooding). bent or stuck float lever. loose or defective inlet manifold. not enough gasoline at jet. cylinders flooded with gas. fuel soaked cork float (causes flooding). water in carburetor spray nozzle. dirt in float chamber. gas mixture too lean. carburetor frozen (winter only). _motor stops in flight_ gasoline shut-off valve jarred closed. gasoline supply pipe clogged. no gasoline in tank. spray nozzle stopped up. water in spray nozzle. particles of carbon between spark-plug points. magneto short circuited by ground in wire. air lock in gasoline pipe. broken air line or leaky tank (pressure feed system only). fuel supply pipe partially clogged. air vent in tank filler cap stopped up (gravity and vacuum feed system). float needle valve stuck. water or dirt in spray nozzle. mixture adjusting needle jarred loose (rotary motors only). _motor races, will not throttle down_ air leak in inlet piping. air leak through inlet valve guides. control rods broken. defective induction pipe joints. leaky carburetor flange packing. throttle not closing. poor slow speed adjustment (zenith carburetor). _motor misfires_ carburetor float chamber getting dry. water or dirt in gasoline. poor gasoline adjustment (rotary motors). not enough gasoline in float chamber. too much gasoline, carburetor flooding. incorrect jet or choke (zenith carburetor). broken cylinder head packing between cylinders. _noisy operation_ popping or blowing back in carburetor. incorrectly timed inlet valves. inlet valve not seating. defective inlet valve spring. dirt under inlet valve seat. not enough gasoline (open needle valve). muffler or manifold explosions. mixture not exploding regularly. exhaust valve sticking. dirt under exhaust valve seat. chapter xi tools for adjusting and erecting--forms of wrenches--use and care of files--split pin removal and installation--complete chisel set--drilling machines--drills, reamers, taps and dies-- measuring tools--micrometer calipers and their use--typical tool outfits--special hall-scott tools--overhauling airplane engines --taking engine down--defects in cylinders--carbon deposits, cause and prevention--use of carbon scrapers--burning out carbon with oxygen--repairing scored cylinders--valve removal and inspection--reseating and truing valves--valve grinding processes--depreciation in valve operating system--piston troubles--piston ring manipulation--fitting piston rings-- wrist-pin wear--inspection and refitting of engine bearings-- scraping brasses to fit--fitting connecting rods--testing for bearing parallelism--cam-shafts and timing gears--precautions in reassembling parts. tools for adjusting and erecting [illustration: fig. .--practical hand tools useful in dismantling and repairing airplane engines.] a very complete outfit of small tools, some of which are furnished as part of the tool equipment of various engines are shown in group at fig. . this group includes all of the tools necessary to complete a very practical kit and it is not unusual for the mechanic who is continually dismantling and erecting engines to possess even a larger assortment than indicated. the small bench vise provided is a useful auxiliary that can be clamped to any convenient bench or table or even fuselage longeron in an emergency and should have jaws at least three inches wide and capable of opening four or five inches. it is especially useful in that it will save trips to the bench vises, as it has adequate capacity to handle practically any of the small parts that need to be worked on when making repairs. a blow torch, tinner's snips and soldering copper are very useful in sheet metal work and in making any repairs requiring the use of solder. the torch can be used in any operation requiring a source of heat. the large box wrench shown under the vise is used for removing large special nuts and sometimes has one end of the proper size to fit the valve chamber cap. the piston ring removers are easily made from thin strips of sheet metal securely brazed or soldered to a light wire handle. these are used in sets of three for removing and applying piston rings in a manner to be indicated. the uses of the wrenches, screw drivers, and pliers shown are known to all and the variety outlined should be sufficient for all ordinary work of restoration. the wrench equipment is very complete, including a set of open end s-wrenches to fit all standard bolts, a spanner wrench, socket or box wrenches for bolts that are inaccessible with the ordinary type, adjustable end wrenches, a thin monkey wrench of medium size, a bicycle wrench for handling small nuts and bolts, a stillson wrench for pipe and a large adjustable monkey wrench for the stubborn fastenings of large size. four different types of pliers are shown, one being a parallel jaw type with size cutting attachment, while the other illustrated near it is a combination parallel jaw type adapted for use on round work as well as in handling flat stock. the most popular form of pliers is the combination pattern shown beneath the socket wrench set. this is made of substantial drop forgings having a hinged joint that can be set so that a very wide opening at the jaws is possible. these can be used on round work and for wire cutting as well as for handling flat work. round nose pliers are very useful also. a very complete set of files, including square, half round, mill, flat bastard, three-cornered and rat tail are also necessary. a hacksaw frame and a number of saws, some with fine teeth for tubing and others with coarser teeth for bar or solid stock will be found almost indispensable. a complete punch and chisel set should be provided, samples of which are shown in the group while the complete outfit is outlined in another illustration. a number of different forms and sizes of chisels are necessary, as one type is not suitable for all classes of work. the adjustable end wrenches can be used in many places where a monkey wrench cannot be fitted and where it will be difficult to use a wrench having a fixed opening. the stillson pipe wrench is useful in turning studs, round rods, and pipes that cannot be turned by any other means. a complete shop kit must necessarily include various sizes for stillson and monkey wrenches, as no one size can be expected to handle the wide range of work the engine repairman must cope with. three sizes of each form of wrench can be used, one, a inch, is as small as is needed while, a inch tool will handle almost any piece of pipe or nut used in engine construction. three or four sizes of hammers should be provided, according to individual requirement, these being small riveting, medium and heavyweight machinist's hammers. a very practical tool of this nature for the repair shop can be used as a hammer, screw driver or pry iron. it is known as the "spartan" hammer and is a tool steel drop forging in one piece having the working surfaces properly hardened and tempered while the metal is distributed so as to give a good balance to the head and a comfortable grip to the handle. the hammer head provides a positive and comfortable t-handle when the tool is used as a screw driver or "tommy" bar. machinist's hammers are provided with three types of heads, these being of various weights. the form most commonly used is termed the "ball pein" on account of the shape of the portion used for riveting. the straight pein is just the same as the cross pein, except that in the latter the straight portion is at right angles to the hammer handle, while in the former it is parallel to that member. forms of wrenches wrenches have been made in infinite variety and there are a score or more patterns of different types of adjustable socket and off-set wrenches. the various wrench types that differ from the more conventional monkey wrenches or those of the stillson pattern are shown at fig. . the "perfect handle" is a drop forged open end form provided with a wooden handle similar to that used on a monkey wrench in order to provide a better grip for the hand. the "saxon" wrench is a double alligator form, so called because the jaws are in the form of a v-groove having one side of the v plain, while the other is serrated in order to secure a tight grip on round objects. in the form shown, two jaws of varying sizes are provided, one for large work, the other to handle the smaller rods. one of the novel features in connection with this wrench is the provision of a triple die block in the centre of the handle which is provided with three most commonly used of the standard threads including / -inch- , / -inch- , and / -inch- . this is useful in cleaning up burred threads on bolts before they are replaced, as burring is unavoidable if it has been necessary to drive them out with a hammer. the "lakeside" wrench has an adjustable pawl engaging with one of a series of notches by which the opening may be held in any desired position. [illustration: fig. .--wrenches are offered in many forms.] ever since the socket wrench was invented it has been a popular form because it can be used in many places where the ordinary open end or monkey wrench cannot be applied owing to lack of room for the head of the wrench. a typical set which has been made to fit in a very small space is shown at d. it consists of a handle, which is nickel-plated and highly polished, a long extension bar, a universal joint and a number of case hardened cold drawn steel sockets to fit all commonly used standard nuts and bolt heads. two screw-driver bits, one small and the other large to fit the handle, and a long socket to fit spark-plugs are also included in this outfit. the universal joint permits one to remove nuts in a position that would be inaccessible to any other form of wrench, as it enables the socket to be turned even if the handle is at one side of an intervening obstruction. the "pick-up" wrench, shown at e, is used for spark-plugs and the upper end of the socket is provided with a series of grooves into which a suitable blade carried by the handle can be dropped. the handle is pivoted to the top of the socket in such a way that the blades may be picked up out of the grooves by lifting on the end of the handle and dropped in again when the handle is swung around to the proper point to get another hold on the socket. the "miller" wrench shown at f, is a combination socket and open end type, made especially for use with spark-plugs. both the open end and the socket are convenient. the "handy" set shown at g, consists of a number of thin stamped wrenches of steel held together in a group by a simple clamp fitting, which enables either end of any one of the four double wrenches to be brought into play according to the size of the nut to be turned. the "cronk" wrench shown at h, is a simple stamping having an alligator opening at one end and a stepped opening capable of handling four different sizes of standard nuts or bolt heads at the other. such wrenches are very cheap and are worth many times their small cost, especially for fitting nuts where there is not sufficient room to admit the more conventional pattern. the "starrett" wrench set, which is shown at i, consists of a ratchet handle together with an extension bar and universal joint, a spark-plug socket, a drilling attachment which takes standard square shank drills from / -inch to / -inch in diameter, a double ended screw-driver bit and several adjustments to go with the drilling attachment. twenty-eight assorted cold drawn steel sockets similar in design to those shown at d, to fit all standard sizes of square and hexagonal headed nuts are also included. the reversible ratchet handle, which may be slipped over the extension bar or the universal joint and which is also adapted to take the squared end of any one of the sockets is exceptionally useful in permitting, as it does, the instant release of pressure when it is desired to swing the handle back to get another hold on the nut. the socket wrench sets are usually supplied in hard wood cases or in leather bags so that they may be kept together and protected against loss or damage. with a properly selected socket wrench set, either of the ratchet handle or t-handle form, any nut on the engine may be reached and end wrenches will not be necessary. use and care of files mention has been previously made of the importance of providing a complete set of files and suitable handles. these should be in various grades or degrees of fineness and three of each kind should be provided. in the flat and half round files three grades are necessary, one with coarse teeth for roughing, and others with medium and fine teeth for the finishing cuts. the round or rat tail file is necessary in filing out small holes, the half round for finishing the interior of large ones. half round files are also well adapted for finishing surfaces of peculiar contour, such as the inside of bearing boxes, connecting rod and main bearing caps, etc. square files are useful in finishing keyways or cleaning out burred splines, while the triangular section or three-cornered file is of value in cleaning out burred threads and sharp corners. flat files are used on all plane surfaces. [illustration: fig. .--illustrating use and care of files.] the file brush shown at fig. , a, consists of a large number of wire bristles attached to a substantial wood back having a handle of convenient form so that the bristles may be drawn through the interstices between the teeth of the file to remove dirt and grease. if the teeth are filled with pieces of soft metal, such as solder or babbitt, it may be necessary to remove this accumulation with a piece of sheet metal as indicated at fig. , b. the method of holding a file for working on plain surfaces when it is fitted with the regular form of wooden handle is shown at c, while two types of handles enabling the mechanic to use the flat file on plain surfaces of such size that the handle type indicated at c, could not be used on account of interfering with the surface finished are shown at d. the method of using a file when surfaces are finished by draw filing is shown at e. this differs from the usual method of filing and is only used when surfaces are to be polished and very little metal removed. split pin removal and insertion one of the most widely used of the locking means to prevent nuts or bolts from becoming loose is the simple split pin, sometimes called a "cotter pin." these can be handled very easily if the special pliers shown at fig. , a, are used. they have a curved jaw that permits of grasping the pin firmly and inserting it in the hole ready to receive it. it is not easy to insert these split pins by other means because the ends are usually spread out and it is hard to enter the pin in the hole. with the cotter pin pliers the ends may be brought close together and as the plier jaws are small the pin may be easily pushed in place. another use of this plier, also indicated, is to bend over the ends of the split pin in order to prevent it from falling out. to remove these pins a simple curved lever, as shown at fig. , b, is used. this has one end tapering to a point and is intended to be inserted in the eye of the cotter pin, the purchase offered by the handle permitting of ready removal of the pin after the ends have been closed by the cotter pin pliers. complete chisel set [illustration: fig. .--outlining use of cotter pin pliers, spring winder, and showing practical outfit of chisels.] a complete chisel set suitable for repair shop use is also shown at fig. . the type at c is known as a "cape" chisel and has a narrow cutting point and is intended to chip keyways, remove metal out of corners and for all other work where the broad cutting edge chisel, shown at d, cannot be used. the form with the wide cutting edge is used in chipping, cutting sheet metal, etc. at e, a round nose chisel used in making oil ways is outlined, while a similar tool having a pointed cutting edge and often used for the same purpose is shown at f. the centre punch depicted at g, is very useful for marking parts either for identification or for drilling. in addition to the chisels shown, a number of solid punches or drifts resembling very much that shown at e, except that the point is blunt should be provided to drive out taper pins, bolts, rivets, and other fastenings of this nature. these should be provided in the common sizes. a complete set of real value would start at / -inch and increase by increments of / -inch up to / -inch. a simple spring winder is shown at fig. , h, this making it possible for the repairman to wind coil springs, either on the lathe or in the vise. it will handle a number of different sizes of wire and can be set to space the coils as desired. drilling machines [illustration: fig. .--forms of hand operated drilling machines.] drilling machines may be of two kinds, hand or power operated. for drilling small holes in metal it is necessary to run the drill fast, therefore the drill chuck is usually driven by gearing in order to produce high drill speed without turning the handle too fast. a small hand drill is shown at fig. , a. as will be observed, the chuck spindle is driven by a small bevel pinion, which in turn, is operated by a large bevel gear turned by a crank. the gear ratio is such that one turn of the handle will turn the chuck five or six revolutions. a drill of this design is not suited for drills any larger than one-quarter inch. for use with drills ranging from one-eighth to three-eighths, or even half-inch the hand drill presses shown at c and d are used. these have a pad at the upper end by which pressure may be exerted with the chest in order to feed the drill into the work, and for this reason they are termed "breast drills." the form at c has compound gearing, the drill chuck being driven by the usual form of bevel pinion in mesh with a larger bevel gear at one end of a countershaft. a small helical spur pinion at the other end of this countershaft receives its motion from a larger gear turned by the hand crank. this arrangement of gearing permits of high spindle speed without the use of large gears, as would be necessary if but two were used. the form at d gives two speeds, one for use with small drills is obtained by engaging the lower bevel pinion with the chuck spindle and driving it by the large ring gear. the slow speed is obtained by shifting the clutch so that the top bevel pinion drives the drill chuck. as this meshes with a gear but slightly larger in diameter, a slow speed of the drill chuck is possible. breast drills are provided with a handle screwed into the side of the frame, these are used to steady the drill press. for drilling extremely large holes which are beyond the capacity of the usual form of drill press the ratchet form shown at b, may be used or the bit brace outlined at e. the drills used with either of these have square shanks, whereas those used in the drill presses have round shanks. the bit brace is also used widely in wood work and the form shown is provided with a ratchet by which the bit chuck may be turned through only a portion of a revolution in either direction if desired. drills, reamers, taps and dies in addition to the larger machine tools and the simple hand tools previously described, an essential item of equipment of any engine or plane repair shop, even in cases where the ordinary machine tools are not provided, is a complete outfit of drills, reamers, and threading tools. drills are of two general classes, the flat and the twist drills. the flat drill has an angle between cutting edges of about degrees and is usually made from special steel commercially known as drill rod. a flat drill cannot be fed into the work very fast because it removes metal by a scraping, rather than a cutting process. the twist drill in its simplest form is cylindrical throughout the entire length and has spiral flutes which are ground off at the end to form the cutting lip and which also serve to carry the metal chips out of the holes. the simplest form of twist drill used is shown at fig. , c, and is known as a "chuck" drill, because it must be placed in a suitable chuck to turn it. a twist drill removes metal by cutting and it is not necessary to use a heavy feed as the drill will tend to feed itself into the work. [illustration: fig. .--forms of drills used in hand and power drilling machines.] larger drills than / -inch are usually made with a tapered shank as shown at fig. , b. at the end of the taper a tongue is formed which engages with a suitable opening in the collet, as the piece used to support the drill is called. the object of this tongue is to relieve the tapered portion of the drill from the stress of driving by frictional contact alone, as this would not turn the drill positively and the resulting slippage would wear the socket, this depreciation changing the taper and making it unfit for other drills. the tongue is usually proportioned so it is adequate to drive the drill under any condition. a small keyway is provided in the collet into which a tapering key of flat stock may be driven against the end of the tongue to drive the drill from the spindle. a standard taper for drill shanks generally accepted by the machine trade is known as the morse and is a taper of five-eighths of an inch to the foot. the brown and sharp form tapers six-tenths of an inch to the foot. care must be taken, therefore, when purchasing drills and collets, to make sure that the tapers coincide, as no attempt should be made to run a morse taper in a brown and sharp collet, or vice versa. sometimes cylindrical drills have straight flutes, as outlined at fig. , a. such drills are used with soft metals and are of value when the drill is to pass entirely through the work. the trouble with a drill with spiral flutes is that it will tend to draw itself through as the cutting lips break through. this catching of the drill may break it or move the work from its position. with a straight flute drill the cutting action is practically the same as with the flat drill shown at fig. , e and f. if a drill is employed in boring holes through close-grained, tough metals, as wrought or malleable iron and steel, the operation will be facilitated by lubricating the drill with plenty of lard oil or a solution of soda and water. either of these materials will effectually remove the heat caused by the friction of the metal removed against the lips of the drill, and the danger of heating the drill to a temperature that will soften it by drawing the temper is minimized. in drilling large or deep holes it is good practice to apply the lubricating medium directly at the drill point. special drills of the form shown at fig. , b, having a spiral oil tube running in a suitably formed channel, provides communication between the point of the drill and a suitable receiving hole on a drilled shank. the oil is supplied by a pump and its pressure not only promotes positive circulation and removal of heat, but also assists in keeping the hole free of chips. in drilling steel or wrought iron, lard oil applied to the point of the drill will facilitate the drilling, but this material should never be used with either brass or cast iron. the sizes to be provided depend upon the nature of the work and the amount of money that can be invested in drills. it is common practice to provide a set of drills, such as shown at fig. , which are carried in a suitable metal stand, these being known as number drills on account of conforming to the wire gauge standards. number drills do not usually run higher than / inch in diameter. beyond this point drills are usually sold by the diameter. a set of chuck drills, ranging from / to / inch, advancing by / inch, and a set of morse taper shank drills ranging from / to - / inches, by increments of / inch, will be all that is needed for the most pretentious repair shop, as it is cheaper to bore holes larger than - / inches with a boring tool than it is to carry a number of large drills in stock that would be used very seldom, perhaps not enough to justify their cost. [illustration: fig. .--useful set of number drills, showing stand for keeping these in an orderly manner.] in grinding drills, care must be taken to have the lips of the same length, so that they will form the same angle with the axis. if one lip is longer than the other, as shown in the flat drill at fig. , e, the hole will be larger than the drill size, and all the work of cutting will come upon the longest lip. the drill ends should be symmetrical, as shown at fig. , f. [illustration: fig. .--illustrating standard forms of hand and machine reamers.] it is considered very difficult to drill a hole to an exact diameter, but for the most work a variation of a few thousandths of an inch is of no great moment. where accuracy is necessary, holes must be reamed out to the required size. in reaming, a hole is drilled about / inch smaller than is required, and is enlarged with a cutting tool known as the reamer. reamers are usually of the fluted form shown at fig. , a. tools of this nature are not designed to remove considerable amounts of metal, but are intended to augment the diameter of the drill hole by only a small fraction of an inch. reamers are tapered slightly at the point in order that they will enter the hole easily, but the greater portion of the fluted part is straight, all cutting edges being parallel. hand reamers are made in either the straight or taper forms, that at a, fig. , being straight, while b has tapering flutes. they are intended to be turned by a wrench similar to that employed in turning a tap, as shown at fig. , c. the reamer shown at fig. , c, is a hand reamer. the form at d has spiral flutes similar to a twist drill, and as it is provided with a taper shank it is intended to be turned by power through the medium of a suitable collet. as the solid reamers must become reduced in size when sharpened, various forms of inserted blade reamers have been designed. one of these is shown at e, and as the cutting surfaces become reduced in diameter it is possible to replace the worn blades with others of proper size. expanding reamers are of the form shown at f. these have a bolt passing through that fits into a tapering hole in the interior of the split reamer portion of the tool. if the hole is to be enlarged a few thousandths of an inch, it is possible to draw up on the nut just above the squared end of the shank, and by drawing the tapering wedge farther into the reamer body, the cutting portion will be expanded and will cut a larger hole. reamers must be very carefully sharpened or there will be a tendency toward chattering with a consequent production of a rough surface. there are several methods of preventing this chattering, one being to separate the cutting edges by irregular spaces, while the most common method, and that to be preferred on machine reamers, is to use spiral flutes, as shown at fig. , d. special taper reamers are made to conform to the various taper pin sizes which are sometimes used in holding parts together in an engine. a taper of / inch per foot is intended for holes where a pin, once driven in, is to remain in place. when it is desired that the pin be driven out, the taper is made steeper, generally / inch per foot, which is the standard taper used on taper pins. [illustration: fig. .--tools for thread cutting.] when threads are to be cut in a small hole, it will be apparent that it will be difficult to perform this operation economically on a lathe, therefore when internal threading is called for, a simple device known as a "tap" is used. there are many styles of taps, all conforming to different standards. some are for metric or foreign threads, some conform to the american standards, while others are used for pipe and tubing. hand taps are the form most used in repair shops, these being outlined at fig. , a and b. they are usually sold in sets of three, known respectively as taper, plug, and bottoming. the taper tap is the one first put into the hole, and is then followed by the plug tap which cuts the threads deeper. if it is imperative that the thread should be full size clear to the bottom of the hole, the third tap of the set, which is straight-sided, is used. it would be difficult to start a bottoming tap into a hole because it would be larger in diameter at its point than the hole. the taper tap, as shown at a, fig. , has a portion of the cutting lands ground away at the point in order that it will enter the hole. the manipulation of a tap is not hard, as it does not need to be forced into the work, as the thread will draw it into the hole as the tap is turned. the tapering of a tap is done so that no one thread is called upon to remove all of the metal, as for about half way up the length of the tap each succeeding thread is cut a little larger by the cutting edge until the full thread enters the hole. care must be taken to always enter a tap straight in order to have the thread at correct angles to the surface. in cutting external threads on small rods or on small pieces, such as bolts and studs, it is not always economical to do this work in the lathe, especially in repair work. dies are used to cut threads on pieces that are to be placed in tapped holes that have been threaded by the corresponding size of tap. dies for small work are often made solid, as shown at fig. , c, but solid dies are usually limited to sizes below / inch. sometimes the solid die is cylindrical in shape, with a slot through one side which enables one to obtain a slight degree of adjustment by squeezing the slotted portion together. large dies, or the sizes over / inch, are usually made in two pieces in order that the halves may be closed up or brought nearer together. the advantage of this form of die is that either of the two pieces may be easily sharpened, and as it may be adjusted very easily the thread may be cut by easy stages. for example, the die may be adjusted to cut large, which will produce a shallow thread that will act as an accurate guide when the die is closed up and a deeper thread cut. [illustration: fig. .--showing holder designs for one- and two-piece thread cutting dies.] a common form of die holder for an adjustable die is shown at fig. , a. as will be apparent, it consists of a central body portion having guide members to keep the die pieces from falling out and levers at each end in order to permit the operator to exert sufficient force to remove the metal. the method of adjusting the depth of thread with a clamp screw when a two-piece die is employed is also clearly outlined. the diestock shown at b is used for the smaller dies of the one-piece pattern, having a slot in order that they may be closed up slightly by the clamp screw. the reverse side of the diestock shown at b is outlined below it, and the guide pieces, which may be easily moved in or out, according to the size of the piece to be threaded by means of eccentrically disposed semi-circular slots in the adjustment plate, are shown. these movable guide members have small pins let into their surface which engage the slots, and they may be moved in or out, as desired, according to the position of the adjusting plate. the use of the guide pieces makes for accurate positioning or centering of the rod to be threaded. dies are usually sold in sets, and are commonly furnished as a portion of a complete outfit such as outlined at fig. . that shown has two sizes of diestock, a tap wrench, eight assorted dies, eight assorted taps, and a small screw driver for adjusting the die. an automobile repair shop should be provided with three different sets of taps and dies, as three different standards for the bolts and nuts are used in fastening automobile components. these are the american, metric (used on foreign engines), and the s. a. e. standard threads. a set of pipe dies and taps will also be found useful. [illustration: fig. .--useful outfit of taps and dies for the engine repair shop.] measuring tools the tool outfit of the machinist or the mechanic who aspires to do machine work must include a number of measuring tools which are not needed by the floor man or one who merely assembles and takes apart the finished pieces. the machinist who must convert raw material into finished products requires a number of measuring tools, some of which are used for taking only approximate measurements, such as calipers and scales, while others are intended to take very accurate measurements, such as the vernier and the micrometer. a number of common forms of calipers are shown at fig. . these are known as inside or outside calipers, depending upon the measurements they are intended to take. that at a is an inside caliper, consisting of two legs, a and d, and a gauging piece, b, which can be locked to leg a, or released from that member by the screw, c. the object of this construction is to permit of measurements being taken at the bottom of a two diameter hole, where the point to be measured is of larger diameter than the portion of the hole through which the calipers entered. it will be apparent that the legs a and d must be brought close together to pass through the smaller holes. this may be done without losing the setting, as the guide bar b will remain in one position as determined by the size of the hole to be measured, while the leg a may be swung in to clear the obstruction as the calipers are lifted out. when it is desired to ascertain the measurements the leg a is pushed back into place into the slotted portion of the guide b, and locked by the clamp screw c. a tool of this form is known as an internal transfer caliper. [illustration: fig. .--common forms of inside and outside calipers.] the form of caliper shown at b is an outside caliper. those at c and d are special forms for inside and outside work, the former being used, if desired, as a divider, while the latter may be employed for measuring the walls of tubing. the calipers at e are simple forms, having a friction joint to distinguish them from the spring calipers shown at b, c and d. in order to permit of ready adjustment of a spring caliper, a split nut as shown at g is sometimes used. a solid nut caliper can only be adjusted by screwing the nut in or out on the screw, which may be a tedious process if the caliper is to be set from one extreme to the other several times in succession. with a slip nut as shown at g it is possible to slip it from one end of the thread to the other without turning it, and of locking it in place at any desired point by simply allowing the caliper leg to come in contact with it. the method of adjusting a spring caliper is shown at fig. , h. among the most common of the machinist's tools are those used for linear measurements. the usual forms are shown in group, fig. . the most common tool, which is widely known, is the carpenter's folding two-foot rule or the yardstick. while these are very convenient for taking measurements where great accuracy is not required, the machinist must work much more accurately than the carpenter, and the standard steel scale which is shown at d, is a popular tool for the machinist. the steel scale is in reality a graduated straight edge and forms an important part of various measuring tools. these are made of high grade steel and vary from to inches in length. they are carefully hardened in order to preserve the graduations, and all surfaces and edges are accurately ground to insure absolute parallelism. the graduations on the high grade scales are produced with a special device known as a dividing engine, but on cheaper scales, etching suffices to provide a fairly accurate graduation. the steel scales may be very thin and flexible, or may be about an eighth of an inch thick on the twelve-inch size, which is that commonly used with combination squares, protractors and other tools of that nature. the repairman's scale should be graduated both with the english system, in which the inches are divided into eighths, sixteenths, thirty-secondths and sixty-fourths, and also in the metric system, divided into millimeters and centimeters. some machinists use scales graduated in tenths, twentieths, fiftieths and hundredths. this is not as good a system of graduation as the more conventional one first described. [illustration: fig. .--measuring appliances for the machinist and floor man.] some steel scales are provided with a slot or groove cut the entire length on one side and about the center of the scales. this permits the attachment of various fittings such as the protractor head, which enables the machinist to measure angles, or in addition the heads convert the scale into a square or a tool permitting the accurate bisecting of pieces of circular section. two scales are sometimes joined together to form a right angle, such as shown at fig. , c. this is known as a square and is very valuable in ascertaining the truth of vertical pieces that are supposed to form a right angle with a base piece. the vernier is a device for reading finer divisions on a scale than those into which the scale is divided. sixty-fourths of an inch are about the finest division that can be read accurately with the naked eye. when fine work is necessary a vernier is employed. this consists essentially of two rules so graduated that the true scale has each inch divided into ten equal parts, the upper or vernier portion has ten divisions occupying the same space as nine of the divisions of the true scale. it is evident, therefore, that one of the divisions of the vernier is equal to nine-tenths of one of those on the true scale. if the vernier scale is moved to the right so that the graduations marked " " shall coincide, it will have moved one-tenth of a division on the scale or one-hundredth of an inch. when the graduations numbered coincide the vernier will have moved five-hundredths of an inch; when the lines marked and coincide, the vernier will have moved nine-hundredths of an inch, and when on the vernier comes opposite on the scales, the upper rule will have moved ten-hundredths of an inch, or the whole of one division on the scale. by this means the scale, though it may be graduated only to tenths of an inch, may be accurately set at points with positions expressed in hundredths of an inch. when graduated to read in thousandths, the true scale is divided into fifty parts and the vernier into twenty parts. each division of the vernier is therefore equal to nineteen-twentieths of one of the true scale. if the vernier be moved so the lines of the first division coincide, it will have moved one-twentieth of one-fiftieth, or . inch. the vernier principle can be readily grasped by studying the section of the vernier scale and true scale shown at fig. , a. [illustration: fig. .--at left, special form of vernier caliper for measuring gear teeth; at right, micrometer for accurate internal measurements.] the caliper scale which is shown at fig. , a, permits of taking the over-all dimension of any parts that will go between the jaws. this scale can be adjusted very accurately by means of a fine thread screw attached to a movable jaw and the divisions may be divided by eye into two parts if one sixty-fourth is the smallest of the divisions. a line is indicated on the movable jaw and coincides with the graduations on the scale. as will be apparent, if the line does not coincide exactly with one of the graduations it will be at some point between the lines and the true measurement may be approximated without trouble. a group of various other measuring tools of value to the machinist is shown at fig. . the small scale at a is termed a "center gauge," because it can be used to test the truth of the taper of either a male or female lathe center. the two smaller nicks, or v's, indicate the shape of a standard thread, and may be used as a guide for grinding the point of a thread-cutting tool. the cross level which is shown at b is of marked utility in erecting, as it will indicate absolutely if the piece it is used to test is level. it will indicate if the piece is level along its width as well as its length. [illustration: fig. .--measuring appliances of value in airplane repair work.] a very simple attachment for use with a scale that enables the machinist to scribe lines along the length of a cylindrical piece is shown at fig. , c. these are merely small wedge-shaped clamps having an angular face to rest upon the bars. the thread pitch gauge which is shown at fig. , d, is an excellent pocket tool for the mechanic, as it is often necessary to determine without loss of time the pitch of the thread on a bolt or in a nut. this consists of a number of leaves having serrations on one edge corresponding to the standard thread it is to be used in measuring. the tool shown gives all pitches up to threads per inch. the leaves may be folded in out of the way when not in use, and their shape admits of their being used in any position without the remainder of the set interfering with the one in use. the fine pitch gauges have slim, tapering leaves of the correct shape to be used in finding the pitch of small nuts. as the tool is round when the leaves are folded back out of the way, it is an excellent pocket tool, as there are no sharp corners to wear out the pocket. practical application of a vernier having measuring heads of special form for measuring gear teeth is shown at fig. , a. as the action of this tool has been previously explained, it will not be necessary to describe it further. micrometer calipers and their use where great accuracy is necessary in taking measurements the micrometer caliper, which in the simple form will measure easily . inch (one-thousandth part of an inch) and when fitted with a vernier that will measure . inch (one ten-thousandth part of an inch), is used. the micrometer may be of the caliper form for measuring outside diameters or it may be of the form shown at fig. , b, for measuring internal diameters. the operation of both forms is identical except that the internal micrometer is placed inside of the bore to be measured while the external form is used just the same as a caliper. the form outlined will measure from one and one-half to six and a half inches as extension points are provided to increase the range of the instrument. the screw has a movement of one-half inch and a hardened anvil is placed in the end of the thimble in order to prevent undue wear at that point. the extension points or rods are accurately made in standard lengths and are screwed into the body of the instrument instead of being pushed in, this insuring firmness and accuracy. two forms of micrometers for external measurements are shown at fig. . the top one is graduated to read in thousandths of an inch, while the lower one is graduated to indicate hundredths of a millimeter. the mechanical principle involved in the construction of a micrometer is that of a screw free to move in a fixed nut. an opening to receive the work to be measured is provided by the backward movement of the thimble which turns the screw and the size of the opening is indicated by the graduations on the barrel. [illustration: fig. .--standard forms of micrometer caliper for external measurements.] the article to be measured is placed between the anvil and spindle, the frame being held stationary while the thimble is revolved by the thumb and finger. the pitch of the screw thread on the concealed part of the spindle is to an inch. one complete revolution of the spindle, therefore, moves it longitudinally one-fortieth, or twenty-five thousandths of an inch. as will be evident from the development of the scale on the barrel of the inch micrometer, the sleeve is marked with forty lines to the inch, each of these lines indicating twenty-five thousandths. the thimble has a beveled edge which is graduated into twenty-five parts. when the instrument is closed the graduation on the beveled edge of the thimble marked should correspond to the line on the barrel. if the micrometer is rotated one full turn the opening between the spindle and anvil will be . inch. if the thimble is turned only one graduation, or one twenty-fifth of a revolution, the opening between the spindle and anvil will be increased only by . inch (one-thousandth of an inch). as many of the dimensions of the airplane parts, especially of those of foreign manufacture or such parts as ball and roller bearings, are based on the metric system, the competent repairman should possess both inch and metric micrometers in order to avoid continual reference to a table of metric equivalents. with a metric micrometer there are fifty graduations on the barrel, these representing . of a millimeter, or approximately . inch. one full turn of the barrel means an increase of half a millimeter, or . mm. (fifty one-hundredths). as it takes two turns to augment the space between the anvil and the stem by increments of one millimeter, it will be evident that it would not be difficult to divide the spaces on the metric micrometer thimble in halves by the eye, and thus the average workman can measure to . inch plus or minus without difficulty. as set in the illustration, the metric micrometers show a space of . mm., or about one millimeter more than half an inch. the inch micrometer shown is set to five-tenths or five hundred one-thousandths or one-half inch. a little study of the foregoing matter will make it easy to understand the action of either the inch or metric micrometer. both of the micrometers shown have a small knurled knob at the end of the barrel. this controls the ratchet stop, which is a device that permits a ratchet to slip by a pawl when more than a certain amount of pressure is applied, thereby preventing the measuring spindle from turning further and perhaps springing the instrument. a simple rule that can be easily memorized for reading the inch micrometer is to multiply the number of vertical divisions on the sleeve by and add to that the number of divisions on the bevel of the thimble reading from the zero to the line which coincides with the horizontal line on the sleeve. for example: if there are ten divisions visible on the sleeve, multiply this number by , then add the number of divisions shown on the bevel of the thimble, which is . the micrometer is therefore opened × equals plus equals thousandths. micrometers are made in many sizes, ranging from those having a maximum opening of one inch to special large forms that will measure forty or more inches. while it is not to be expected that the repairman will have use for the big sizes, if a caliper having a maximum opening of six inches is provided with a number of extension rods enabling one to measure smaller objects, practically all of the measuring needed in repairing engine parts can be made accurately. two or three smaller micrometers having a maximum range of two or three inches will also be found valuable, as most of the measurements will be made with these tools which will be much easier to handle than the larger sizes. typical tool outfits the equipment of tools necessary for repairing airplane engines depends entirely upon the type of the power plant and while the common hand tools can be used on all forms, the work is always facilitated by having special tools adapted for reaching the nuts and screws that would be hard to reach otherwise. special spanners and socket wrenches are very desirable. then again, the nature of the work to be performed must be taken into consideration. rebuilding or overhauling an engine calls for considerably more tools than are furnished for making field repairs or minor adjustments. a complete set of tools supplied to men working on curtiss ox- engines and jn- training biplanes is shown at fig. . the tools are placed in a special box provided with a hinged cover and are arranged in the systematic manner outlined. the various tools and supplies shown are: a, hacksaw blades; b, special socket wrenches for engine bolts and nuts; c, ball pein hammers, four sizes; d, five assorted sizes of screw drivers ranging from very long for heavy work to short and small for fine work; e, seven pairs of pliers including combination in three sizes, two pairs of cutting pliers and one round nose; f, two split pin extractors and spreaders; g, wrench set including three adjustable monkey wrenches, one stillson or pipe wrench, five sizes adjustable end wrenches and ten double end s wrenches; h, set of files, including flat, three cornered and half round; i, file brush; j, chisel and drift pin; k, three small punches or drifts; l, hacksaw frame; m, soldering copper; n, special spanners for propeller retaining nuts; o, special spanners; p, socket wrenches, long handle; q, long handle, stiff bristle brushes for cleaning motor; r, gasoline blow torch; s, hand drill; t, spools of safety wire; u, flash lamp; v, special puller and castle wrenches; w, oil can; x, large adjustable monkey wrench; y, washer and gasket cutter; z, ball of heavy twine. in addition to the tools, various supplies, such as soldering acid, solder, shellac, valve grinding compound, bolts and nuts, split pins, washers, wood screws, etc., are provided. [illustration: fig. .--special tools for maintaining curtiss ox- motor used in curtiss jn- training biplane.] special hall-scott tools no. tool directions for use engine hoisting hook, -cylinder hook under cam-shaft housing, when hoisting engine. engine hoisting hook, -cylinder hook under cam-shaft housing, when hoisting engine. water plug wrench for use on water plugs on top and end of cylinders. vertical shaft flange puller for pulling lower pinion shaft flange from shaft. (used on a- and a- engines only.) oil gun for general lubrication use. magneto gear puller for pulling magneto gears from magneto shaft. socket wrench, / " a.l.a.m. for use on bolts and nuts on crank cases. socket wrench, / " a.l.a.m for use on crank cases and magneto gear housings. socket wrench, / " a.l.a.m. for use on magneto gear housings. socket wrench, / " standard for bolts and nuts which fasten magnetos to crank-case. socket wrench, / " a.l.a.m. for use on magneto gear housings. vertical shaft gear puller for removing water pump and magneto drive gear. brace and facing cutter for facing lugs on cylinders for cylinder hold down stud washers. handle for brace use with brace. valve grinding brace for grinding in valves. socket wrench base, / " a.l.a.m. for thrust bearing cap screws. brace and facing cutter, / " for facing lugs on rocker arm a.l.a.m. covers. valve grinding screw driver for grinding in valves. valve spring tool for putting on and taking off valve springs. block-valve spring tool for use with valve spring tool. socket wrench, / " a.l.a.m. for main bearing nuts. socket wrench, / " a.l.a.m. for use on cam-shaft housing. socket wrench, / " a.l.a.m. for cam-shaft housing hold down stud nuts. socket wrench, / " a.l.a.m. for cylinder hold down stud nuts. socket wrench, / " a.l.a.m. for carburetor and water pump bolts and nuts. socket wrench, / " a.l.a.m. for carburetor and water pump bolts and nuts. socket wrench for use on carburetor jets. magneto screw driver for general magneto use. brass bar, " diameter × " long for driving piston pins from pistons. hack saw for general use. oil can for cam-shaft housing lubrication. gasoline or distillate can for priming or other use. oil can for magneto gear lubrication. shellac can for rubber hose connections and gaskets. magneto cleaner for use on magnetos. clamps for holding cylinder hold down studs, when fitting main bearings. piston guards for use in pistons, when out of engine, to protect them. screw driver for general use. vertical shaft clamps for clamping vertical shaft flanges, when timing engine. thrust adjusting nut wrench for adjusting propeller thrust bearing. stuffing box spanner wrench for adjusting stuffing box nut on vertical shaft. water pump spanner wrench for adjusting water pump stuffing nut. wrench for use on cylinder relief cocks and cylinder priming cocks. hose clamp wrench for use on hose clamps. scraper for cleaning piston ring grooves on pistons. crank-shaft nut wrench for adjusting crank-shaft nut. spark-plug wrench for putting in and taking out spark-plugs in cylinders. timing disc (single disc) for use on crank-shaft to time engine. specify type motor disc should be made for. if double disc is required, specify the two types of motors the disc is to be made for. double disc. main bearing scraper for scraping in bearings. cylinder carbon scraper for removing carbon from heads of cylinders. valve seating tool for seating valves in cylinder heads. scraper, small for general bearing use. scraper, large for general bearing use. crank-shaft flange puller for pulling crank-shaft flange from crank-shaft. piston and connecting rod racks. main bearing stud nuts and shim rack. main bearing board rack. rocker arm and cover rack. the special tools and fixtures recommended by the hall-scott company for work on their engines are clearly shown at fig. . all tools are numbered and their uses may be clearly understood by reference to the illustration and explanatory list given on pages and . overhauling airplane engines after an airplane engine has been in use for a period ranging from to hours, depending upon the type, it is necessary to give it a thorough overhauling before it is returned to service. to do this properly, the engine is removed from the fuselage and placed on a special supporting stand, such as shown at fig. , so it can be placed in any position and completely dismantled. with a stand of this kind it is as easy to work on the bottom of the engine as on the top and every part can be instantly reached. the crank-case shown in place in illustration is in a very convenient position for scraping in the crank-shaft bearings. [illustration: fig. .--special tools and appliances to facilitate overhauling work on hall-scott airplane engines.] in order to look over the parts of an engine and to restore the worn or defective components it is necessary to take the engine entirely apart, as it is only when the power plant is thoroughly dismantled that the parts can be inspected or measured to determine defects or wear. if one is not familiar with the engine to be inspected, even though the work is done by a repairman of experience, it will be found of value to take certain precautions when dismantling the engine in order to insure that all parts will be replaced in the same position they occupied before removal. there are a number of ways of identifying the parts, one of the simplest and surest being to mark them with steel numbers or letters or with a series of center punch marks in order to retain the proper relation when reassembling. this is of special importance in connection with dismantling multiple cylinder engines as it is vital that pistons, piston rings, connecting rods, valves, and other cylinder parts be always replaced in the same cylinder from which they were removed, because it is uncommon to find equal depreciation in all cylinders. some repairmen use small shipping tags to identify the pieces. this can be criticised because the tags may become detached and lost and the identity of the piece mistaken. if the repairing is being done in a shop where other engines of the same make are being worked on, the repairman should be provided with a large chest fitted with a lock and key in which all of the smaller parts, such as rods, bolts and nuts, valves, gears, valve springs, cam-shafts, etc., may be stored to prevent the possibility of confusion with similar members of other engines. all parts should be thoroughly cleaned with gasoline or in the potash kettle as removed, and wiped clean and dry. this is necessary to show wear which will be evidenced by easily identified indications in cases where the machine has been used for a time, but in others, the deterioration can only be detected by delicate measuring instruments. [illustration: fig. .--special stand to make motor overhauling work easier.] in taking down a motor the smaller parts and fittings such as spark-plugs, manifolds and wiring should be removed first. then the more important members such as cylinders may be removed from the crank-case to give access to the interior and make possible the examination of the pistons, rings and connecting rods. after the cylinders are removed the next operation is to disconnect the connecting rods from the crank-shaft and to remove them and the pistons attached as a unit. then the crank-case is dismembered, in most cases by removing the bottom half or oil sump, thus exposing the main bearings and crank-shaft. the first operation is the removal of the inlet and exhaust manifolds. in some cases the manifolds are cored integral with the cylinder head casting and it is merely necessary to remove a short pipe leading from the carburetor to one inlet opening and the exhaust pipe from the outlet opening common to all cylinders. in order to remove the carburetor it is necessary to shut off the gasoline supply at the tank and to remove the pipe coupling at the float chamber. it is also necessary to disconnect the throttle operating rod. after the cylinders are removed and before taking the crank-case apart it is well to remove the water pump and magneto. the wiring on most engines of modern development is carried in conduits and usually releasing two or three minor fastenings will permit one to take off the plug wiring as a unit. the wire should be disconnected from both spark-plugs and magneto distributor before its removal. when the cylinders are removed, the pistons, piston rings, and connecting rods are clearly exposed and their condition may be readily noticed. before disturbing the arrangement of the timing gears, it is important that these be marked so that they will be replaced in exactly the same relation as intended by the engine designer. if the gears are properly marked the valve timing and magneto setting will be undisturbed when the parts are replaced after overhauling. with the cylinders off, it is possible to ascertain if there is any undue wear present in the connecting rod bearings at either the wrist pin or crank-pin ends and also to form some idea of the amount of carbon deposits on the piston top and back of the piston rings. any wear of the timing gears can also be determined. the removal of the bottom plate of the engine enables the repairman to see if the main bearings are worn unduly. often bearings may be taken up sufficiently to eliminate all looseness. in other cases they may be worn enough so that careful refitting will be necessary. where the crank-case is divided horizontally into two portions, the upper one serving as an engine base to which the cylinders and in fact all important working parts are attached, the lower portion performs the functions of an oil container and cover for the internal mechanism. this is the construction generally followed. defects in cylinders after the cylinders have been removed and stripped of all fittings, they should be thoroughly cleaned and then carefully examined for defects. the interior or bore should be looked at with a view of finding score marks, grooves, cuts or scratches in the interior, because there are many faults that may be ascribed to depreciation at this point. the cylinder bore may be worn out of round, which can only be determined by measuring with an internal caliper or dial indicator even if the cylinder bore shows no sign of wear. the flange at the bottom of the cylinder by which it is held to the engine base may be cracked. the water jacket wall may have opened up due to freezing of the jacket water at some time or other or it may be filled with scale and sediment due to the use of impure cooling water. the valve seat may be scored or pitted, while the threads holding the valve chamber cap may be worn so that the cap will not be a tight fit. the detachable head construction makes it possible to remove that member and obtain ready access to the piston tops for scraping out carbon without taking the main cylinder portion from the crank-case. when the valves need grinding the head may be removed and carried to the bench where the work may be performed with absolute assurance that none of the valve grinding compound will penetrate into the interior of the cylinder as is sometimes unavoidable with the i-head cylinder. if the cylinder should be scored, the water jacket and combustion head may be saved and a new cylinder casting purchased at considerably less cost than that of the complete unit cylinder. the detachable head construction has only recently been applied on airplane engines, though it was one of the earliest forms of automobile engine construction. in the early days it was difficult to procure gaskets or packings that would be both gas and water tight. the sheet asbestos commonly used was too soft and blew out readily. besides a new gasket had to be made every time the cylinder head was removed. woven wire and asbestos packings impregnated with rubber, red lead, graphite and other filling materials were more satisfactory than the soft sheet asbestos, but were prone to burn out if the water supply became low. materials such as sheet copper or brass proved to be too hard to form a sufficiently yielding packing medium that would allow for the inevitable slight inaccuracies in machining the cylinder head and cylinder. the invention of the copper-asbestos gasket, which is composed of two sheets of very thin, soft copper bound together by a thin edging of the same material and having a piece of sheet asbestos interposed solved this problem. copper-asbestos packings form an effective seal against leakage of water and a positive retention means for keeping the explosion pressure in the cylinder. the great advantage of the detachable head is that it permits of very easy inspection of the piston tops and combustion chamber and ready removal of carbon deposits. carbon deposits, their cause and prevention most authorities agree that carbon is the result of imperfect combustion of the fuel and air mixture as well as the use of lubricating oils of improper flash point. lubricating oils that work by the piston rings may become decomposed by the great heat in the combustion chamber, but at the same time one cannot blame the lubricating oil for all of the carbon deposits. there is little reason to suspect that pure petroleum oil of proper body will deposit excessive amounts of carbon, though if the oil is mixed with castor oil, which is of vegetable origin, there would be much carbon left in the interior of the combustion chamber. fuel mixtures that are too rich in gasoline also produce these undesirable accumulations. a very interesting chemical analysis of a sample of carbon scraped from the interior of a motor vehicle engine shows that ordinarily the lubricant is not as much to blame as is commonly supposed. the analysis was as follows: oil . % other combustible matter . sand, clay, etc. . iron oxide . carbonate of lime . other constituents . it is extremely probable that the above could be divided into two general classes, these being approximately . % oil and combustible matter and a much larger proportion, or . % of earthy matter. the presence of such a large percentage of earthy matter is undoubtedly due to the impurities in the air, such as road dust which has been sucked in through the carburetor. the fact that over % of the matter which is combustible was not of an oily nature lends strong support to this view. there would not be the amount of earthy material present in the carbon deposits of an airplane engine as above stated because the air is almost free from dust at the high altitudes planes are usually flown. one could expect to find more combustible and less earthy matter and the carbon would be softer and more easily removed. it is very good practice to provide a screen on the air intake to reduce the amounts of dust sucked in with the air as well as observing the proper precautions relative to supplying the proper quantities of air to the mixture and of not using any more oil than is needed to insure proper lubrication of the internal mechanism. use of carbon scrapers it is not unusual for one to hear an aviator complain that the engine he operates is not as responsive as it was when new after he has run it but relatively few hours. there does not seem to be anything actually wrong with the engine, yet it does not respond readily to the throttle and is apt to overheat. while these symptoms denote a rundown condition of the mechanism, the trouble is often due to nothing more serious than accumulations of carbon. the remedy is the removal of this matter out of place. the surest way of cleaning the inside of the motor thoroughly is to remove the cylinders, if these members are cast integrally with the head or of removing the head member if that is a separate casting, to expose all parts. in certain forms of cylinders, especially those of the l form, it is possible to introduce simple scrapers down through the valve chamber cap holes and through the spark-plug hole if this component is placed in the cylinder in some position that communicates directly to the interior of the cylinder or to the piston top. no claim can be made for originality or novelty of this process as is has been used for many years on large stationary engines. the first step is to dismantle the inlet and exhaust piping and remove the valve caps and valves, although if the deposit is not extremely hard or present in large quantities one can often manipulate the scrapers in the valve cap openings without removing either the piping or the valves. commencing with the first cylinder, the crank-shaft is turned till the piston is at the top of its stroke, then the scraper may be inserted, and the operation of removing the carbon started by drawing the tool toward the opening. as this is similar to a small hoe, the cutting edge will loosen some of the carbon and will draw it toward the opening. a swab is made of a piece of cloth or waste fastened at the end of a wire and well soaked in kerosene to clean out the cylinder. when available, an electric motor with a length of flexible shaft and a small circular cleaning brush having wire bristles can be used in the interior of the engine. the electric motor need not be over one-eighth horse-power running , to , r. p. m., and the wire brush must, of course, be of such size that it can be easily inserted through the valve chamber cap. the flexible shaft permits one to reach nearly all parts of the cylinder interior without difficulty and the spreading out and flattening of the brush insures that considerable surface will be covered by that member. burning out carbon with oxygen a process of recent development that gives very good results in removing carbon without disassembling the motor depends on the process of burning out that material by supplying oxygen to support the combustion and to make it energetic. a number of concerns are already offering apparatus to accomplish this work, and in fact any shop using an autogenous welding outfit may use the oxygen tank and reducing valve in connection with a simple special torch for burning the carbon. results have demonstrated that there is little danger of damaging the motor parts, and that the cost of oxygen and labor is much lower than the old method of removing the cylinders and scraping the carbon out, as well as being very much quicker than the alternative process of using carbon solvent. the only drawback to this system is that there is no absolute insurance that every particle of carbon will be removed, as small protruding particles may be left at points that the flame does not reach and cause pre-ignition and consequent pounding, even after the oxygen treatment. it is generally known that carbon will burn in the presence of oxygen, which supports combustion of all materials, and this process takes advantage of this fact and causes the gas to be injected into the combustion chamber over a flame obtained by a match or wax taper. [illustration: fig. .--showing where carbon deposits collect in engine combustion chamber, and how to burn them out with the aid of oxygen. a--special torch. b--torch coupled to oxygen tank. c--torch in use.] it is suggested by those favoring this process that the night before the oxygen is to be used the engine be given a conventional kerosene treatment. a half tumbler full of this liquid or of denatured alcohol is to be poured into each cylinder and permitted to remain there over night. as a precaution against fire, the gasoline is shut off from the carburetor before the torch is inserted in the cylinder and the motor started so that the gasoline in the pipe and carburetor float chamber will be consumed. work is done on one cylinder at a time. a note of caution was recently sounded by a prominent spark-plug manufacturer recommending that the igniter member be removed from the cylinder in order not to injure it by the heat developed. the outfits on the market consist of a special torch having a trigger controlled valve and a length of flexible tubing such as shown at fig. , a, and a regulating valve and oxygen tank as shown at b. the gauge should be made to register about twelve pounds pressure. the method of operation is very simple and is outlined at c. the burner tube is placed in the cylinder and the trigger valve is opened and the oxygen permitted to circulate in the combustion chamber. a lighted match or wax taper is dropped in the chamber and the injector tube is moved around as much as possible so as to cover a large area. the carbon takes fire and burns briskly in the presence of the oxygen. the combustion of the carbon is accompanied by sparks and sometimes by flame if the deposit is of an oily nature. once the carbon begins to burn the combustion continues without interruption as long as the oxygen flows into the cylinder. full instructions accompany each outfit and the amount of pressure for which the regulator should be set depends upon the design of the torch and the amount of oxygen contained in the storage tank. repairing scored cylinders if the engine has been run at any time without adequate lubrication, one or more of the cylinders may be found to have vertical scratches running up and down the cylinder walls. the depth of these will vary according to the amount of time the cylinder was without lubrication, and if the grooves are very deep the only remedy is to purchase a new member. of course, if sufficient stock is available in the cylinder walls, the cylinders may be rebored and new pistons which are oversize, _i.e._, larger than standard, may be fitted. where the scratches are not deep they may be ground out with a high speed emery wheel or lapped out if that type of machine is not available. wrist pins have been known to come loose, especially when these are retained by set screws that are not properly locked, and as wrist-pins are usually of hardened steel it will be evident that the sharp edge of that member can act as a cutting tool and make a pronounced groove in the cylinder. cylinder grinding is a job that requires skilled mechanics, but may be accomplished on any lathe fitted with an internal grinding attachment. while automobile engine cylinders usually have sufficient wall thickness to stand reboring, those of airplane engines seldom have sufficient metal to permit of enlarging the bore very much by a boring tool. a few thousandths of an inch may be ground out without danger, however. an airplane engine cylinder with deep grooves must be scrapped as a general rule. where the grooves in the cylinder are not deep or where it has warped enough so the rings do not bear equally at all parts of the cylinder bore, it is possible to obtain a fairly accurate degree of finish by a lapping process in which an old piston is coated with a mixture of fine emery and oil and is reciprocated up and down in the cylinder as well as turned at the same time. this may be easily done by using a dummy connecting rod having only a wrist pin end boss, and of such size at the other end so that it can be held in the chuck of a drill press. the cylinder casting is firmly clamped on the drill press table by suitable clamping blocks, and a wooden block is placed in the combustion chamber to provide a stop for the piston at its lower extreme position. the back gears are put in and the drill chuck is revolved slowly. all the while that the piston is turning the drill chuck should be raised up and down by the hand feed lever, as the best results are obtained when the lapping member is given a combination of rotary and reciprocating motion. valve removal and inspection one of the most important parts of the gasoline engine and one that requires frequent inspection and refitting to keep in condition, is the mushroom or poppet valve that controls the inlet and exhaust gas flow. in overhauling it is essential that these valves be removed from their seatings and examined carefully for various defects which will be enumerated at proper time. the problem that concerns us now is the best method of removing the valve. these are held against the seating in the cylinder by a coil spring which exerts its pressure on the cylinder casting at the upper end and against a suitable collar held by a key at the lower end of the valve stem. in order to remove the valve it is necessary to first compress the spring by raising the collar and pulling the retaining key out of the valve stem. many forms of valve spring lifters have been designed to permit ready removal of the valves. when the cylinder is of the valve in-the-head form, the method of valve removal will depend entirely upon the system of cylinder construction followed. in the sturtevant cylinder design it is possible to remove the head from the cylinder castings and the valve springs may be easily compressed by any suitable means when the cylinder head is placed on the work bench where it can be easily worked on. the usual method is to place the head on a soft cloth with the valves bearing against the bench. the valve springs may then be easily pushed down with a simple forked lever and the valve stem key removed to release the valve spring collar. in the curtiss ox- (see fig. - / ) and hall-scott engines it is not possible to remove the valves without taking the cylinder off the crank-case, because the valve seats are machined directly in the cylinder head and the valve domes are cast integrally with the cylinder. this means that if the valves need grinding the cylinder must be removed from the engine base to provide access to the valve heads which are inside of that member, and which cannot be reached from the outside as is true of the l-cylinder construction. in the curtiss vx engines, the valves are carried in detachable cages which may be removed when the valves need attention. [illustration: fig. - / .--part sectional view, showing valve arrangement in cylinder of curtiss ox- aviation engine.] reseating and truing valves much has been said relative to valve grinding, and despite the mass of information given in the trade prints it is rather amusing to watch the average repairman or the engine user who prides himself on maintaining his own motor performing this essential operation. the common mistakes are attempting to seat a badly grooved or pitted valve head on an equally bad seat, which is an almost hopeless job, and of using coarse emery and bearing down with all one's weight on the grinding tool with the hope of quickly wearing away the rough surfaces. the use of improper abrasive material is a fertile cause of failure to obtain a satisfactory seating. valve grinding is not a difficult operation if certain precautions are taken before undertaking the work. the most important of these is to ascertain if the valve head or seat is badly scored or pitted. if such is found to be the case no ordinary amount of grinding will serve to restore the surfaces. in this event the best thing to do is to remove the valve from its seating and to smooth down both the valve head and the seat in the cylinder before attempt is made to fit them together by grinding. another important precaution is to make sure that the valve stem is straight, and that the head is not warped out of shape. [illustration: fig. .--tools for restoring valve head and seats.] a number of simple tools is available at the present time for reseating valves, these being outlined at fig. . that shown at a is a simple fixture for facing off the valve head. the stem is supported by suitable bearings carried by the body or shank of the tool, and the head is turned against an angularly disposed cutter which is set for the proper valve seat angle. the valve head is turned by a screw-driver, the amount of stock removed from the head depending upon the location of the adjusting screw. care must be taken not to remove too much metal, only enough being taken off to remove the most of the roughness. valves are made in two standard tapers, the angle being either or degrees. it is imperative that the cutter blade be set correctly in order that the bevel is not changed. a set of valve truing and valve-seat reaming cutters is shown at fig. , b. this is adaptable to various size valve heads, as the cutter blade d may be moved to correspond to the size of the valve head being trued up. these cutter blades are made of tool steel and have a bevel at each end, one at degrees, the other at degrees. the valve seat reamer shown at g will take any one of the heads shown at f. it will also take any one of the guide bars shown at h. the function of the guide bars is to fit the valve stem bearing in order to locate the reamer accurately and to insure that the valve seat is machined concentrically with its normal center. another form of valve seat reamer and a special wrench used to turn it is shown at c. the valve head truer shown at fig. , d, is intended to be placed in a vise and is adaptable to a variety of valve head sizes. the smaller valves merely fit deeper in the conical depression. the cutter blade is adjustable and the valve stem is supported by a simple self-centering bearing. in operation it is intended that the valve stem, which protrudes through the lower portion of the guide bearing, shall be turned by a drill press or bit stock while the valve head is set against the cutter by pressure of a pad carried at the end of a feed screw which is supported by a hinged bridge member. this can be swung out of place as indicated to permit placing the valve head against the cutter or removing it. as the sizes of valve heads and stems vary considerably a "universal" valve head truing tool must have some simple means of centering the valve stem in order to insure concentric machining of the valve head. a valve head truer which employs an ingenious method of guiding the valve stem is shown at fig. , e. the device consists of a body portion, b, provided with an external thread at the top on which the cutter head, a, is screwed. a number of steel balls, c, are carried in the grooves which may be altered in size by the adjustment nut, f, which screws in the bottom of the body portion, b. as the nut f is screwed in against the spacer member e, the v-grooves are reduced in size and the steel balls, c, are pressed out in contact with the valve stem. as the circle or annulus is filled with balls in both upper and lower portions the stem may be readily turned because it is virtually supported by ball bearing guides. when a larger valve stem is to be supported, the adjusting nut f, is screwed out which increases the size of the grooves and permits the balls, c, to spread out and allow the larger stem to be inserted. valve grinding processes mention has been previously made of the importance of truing both valve head and seat before attempt is made to refit the parts by grinding. after smoothing the valve seat the next step is to find some way of turning the valve. valve heads are usually provided with a screw-driver slot passing through the boss at the top of the valve or with two drilled holes to take a forked grinding tool. a combination grinding tool has been devised which may be used when either the two drilled holes or the slotted head form of valve is to be rotated. this consists of a special form of screw driver having an enlarged boss just above the blade, this boss serving to support a u-shape piece which can be securely held in operative position by the clamp screw or which can be turned out of the way if the screw driver blade is to be used. as it is desirable to turn the valve through a portion of a revolution and back again rather than turning it always in the same direction, a number of special tools has been designed to make this oscillating motion possible without trouble. a simple valve grinding tool is shown at fig. , c. this consists of a screw-driver blade mounted in a handle in such a way that the end may turn freely in the handle. a pinion is securely fastened to the screw-driver blade shank, and is adapted to fit a race provided with a wood handle and guided by a bent bearing member securely fastened to the screw-driver handle. as the rack is pushed back and forth the pinion must be turned first in one direction and then in the other. [illustration: fig. .--tools and processes utilized in valve grinding.] a valve grinding tool patterned largely after a breast drill is shown at fig. , d. this is worked in such a manner that a continuous rotation of the operating crank will result in an oscillating movement of the chuck carrying the screw-driver blade. the bevel pinions which are used to turn the chuck are normally free unless clutched to the chuck stem by the sliding sleeve which must turn with the chuck stem and which carries clutching members at each end to engage similar members on the bevel pinions and lock these to the chuck stem, one at a time. the bevel gear carries a cam-piece which moves the clutch sleeve back and forth as it revolves. this means that the pinion giving forward motion of the chuck is clutched to the chuck spindle for a portion of a revolution of the gear and clutch sleeve is moved back by the cam and clutched to the pinion giving a reverse motion of the chuck during the remainder of the main drive gear revolution. it sometimes happens that the adjusting screw on the valve lift plunger or the valve lift plunger itself when l head cylinders are used does not permit the valve head to rest against the seat. it will be apparent that unless a definite space exists between the end of the valve stem and the valve lift plunger that grinding will be of little avail because the valve head will not bear properly against the abrasive material smeared on the valve seat. the usual methods of valve grinding are clearly outlined at fig. . the view at the left shows the method of turning the valve by an ordinary screw driver and also shows a valve head at a, having both the drilled holes and the screw-driver slot for turning the member and two special forms of fork-end valve grinding tools. in the sectional view shown at the right, the use of the light spring between the valve head and the bottom of the valve chamber to lift the valve head from the seat whenever pressure on the grinding tool is released is clearly indicated. it will be noted also that a ball of waste or cloth is interposed in the passage between the valve chamber and the cylinder interior to prevent the abrasive material from passing into the cylinder from the valve chamber. when a bitstock is used, instead of being given a true rotary motion the chuck is merely oscillated through the greater part of the circle and back again. it is necessary to lift the valve from its seat frequently as the grinding operation continues; this is to provide an even distribution of the abrasive material placed between the valve head and its seat. only sufficient pressure is given to the bitstock to overcome the uplift of the spring and to insure that the valve will be held against the seat. where the spring is not used it is possible to raise the valve from time to time with the hand which is placed under the valve stem to raise it as the grinding is carried on. it is not always possible to lift the valve in this manner when the cylinders are in place on the engine base owing to the space between the valve lift plunger and the end of the valve stem. in this event the use of the spring as shown in sectional view will be desirable. the abrasive generally used is a paste made of medium or fine emery and lard oil or kerosene. this is used until the surfaces are comparatively smooth, after which the final polish or finish is given with a paste of flour emery, grindstone dust, crocus, or ground glass and oil. an erroneous impression prevails in some quarters that the valve head surface and the seating must have a mirror-like polish. while this is not necessary it is essential that the seat in the cylinder and the bevel surface of the head be smooth and free from pits or scratches at the completion of the operation. all traces of the emery and oil should be thoroughly washed out of the valve chamber with gasoline before the valve mechanism is assembled and in fact it is advisable to remove the old grinding compound at regular intervals, wash the seat thoroughly and supply fresh material as the process is in progress. the truth of seatings may be tested by taking some prussian blue pigment and spreading a thin film of it over the valve seat. the valve is dropped in place and is given about one-eighth turn with a little pressure on the tool. if the seating is good both valve head and seat will be covered uniformly with color. if high spots exist, the heavy deposit of color will show these while the low spots will be made evident because of the lack of pigment. the grinding process should be continued until the test shows an even bearing of the valve head at all points of the cylinder seating. when the valves are held in cages it is possible to catch the cage in a vise and to turn the valve in any of the ways indicated. it is much easier to clean off the emery and oil and there is absolutely no danger of getting the abrasive material in the cylinder if the construction is such that the valve cage or cylinder head member carrying the valve can be removed from the cylinder. when valves are held in cages, the tightness of the seat may be tested by partially filling the cage with gasoline and noticing how much liquid oozes out around the valve head. the degree of moisture present indicates the efficacy of the grinding process. the valves of curtiss ox- cylinders are easily ground in by using a simple fixture or tool and working from the top of the cylinder instead of from the inside. a tube having a bore just large enough to go over the valve stem is provided with a wooden handle or taped at one end and a hole of the same size as that drilled through the valve stem is put in at the other. to use, the open end of the tube is pushed over the valve stem and a split pin pushed through the tube and stem. the valve may be easily manipulated and ground in place by oscillating in the customary manner. depreciation in valve operating systems there are a number of points to be watched in the valve operating system because valve timing may be seriously interfered with if there is much lost motion at the various bearing points in the valve lift mechanism. the two conventional methods of opening valves are shown at fig. . that at a is the type employed when the valve cages are mounted directly in the head, while the form at b is the system used when the valves are located in a pocket or extension of the cylinder casting as is the case if an l, or t-head cylinder is used. it will be evident that there are several points where depreciation may take place. the simplest form is that shown at b, and even on this there are five points where lost motion may be noted. the periphery of the valve opening cam or roller may be worn, though this is not likely unless the roller or cam has been inadvertently left soft. the pin which acts as a bearing for the roller may become worn, this occurring quite often. looseness may materialize between the bearing surfaces of the valve lift plunger and the plunger guide casting, and there may also be excessive clearance between the top of the plunger and the valve stem. [illustration: fig. .--outlining points in valve operating mechanism where depreciation is apt to exist.] on the form shown at a, there are several parts added to those indicated at b. a walking beam or rocker lever is necessary to transform the upward motion of the tappet rod to a downward motion of the valve stem. the pin on which this member fulcrums may wear as will also the other pin acting as a hinge or bearing for the yoke end of the tappet rod. it will be apparent that if slight play existed at each of the points mentioned it might result in a serious diminution of valve opening. suppose, for example, that there were . -inch lost motion at each of three bearing points, the total lost motion would be . -inch or sufficient to produce noisy action of the valve mechanism. when valve plungers of the adjustable form, such as shown at b, are used, the hardened bolt head in contact with the end of the valve stem may become hollowed out on account of the hammering action at that point. it is imperative that the top of this member be ground off true and the clearance between the valve stem and plunger properly adjusted. if the plunger is a non-adjustable type it will be necessary to lengthen the valve stem by some means in order to reduce the excessive clearance. the only remedy for wear at the various hinges and bearing pins is to bore the holes out slightly larger and to fit new hardened steel pins of larger diameter. depreciation between the valve plunger guide and the valve plunger is usually remedied by fitting new plunger guides in place of the worn ones. if there is sufficient stock in the plunger guide casting as is sometimes the case when these members are not separable from the cylinder casting, the guide may be bored out and bushed with a light bronze bushing. a common cause of irregular engine operation is due to a sticking valve. this may be owing to a bent valve stem, a weak or broken valve spring or an accumulation of burnt or gummed oil between the valve stem and the valve stem guide. in order to prevent this the valve stem must be smoothed with fine emery cloth and no burrs or shoulders allowed to remain on it, and the stem must also be straight and at right angles to the valve head. if the spring is weak it may be strengthened in some cases by stretching it out after annealing so that a larger space will exist between the coils and re-hardening. obviously if a spring is broken the only remedy is replacement of the defective member. mention has been made of wear in the valve stem guide and its influence on engine action. when these members are an integral part of the cylinder the only method of compensating for this wear is to drill the guide out and fit a bushing, which may be made of steel tube. in some engines, especially those of recent development, the valve stem guide is driven or screwed into the cylinder casting and is a separate member which may be removed when worn and replaced with a new one. when the guides become enlarged to such a point that considerable play exists between them and the valve stems, they may be easily knocked out or unscrewed. piston troubles if an engine has been entirely dismantled it is very easy to examine the pistons for deterioration. while it is important that the piston be a good fit in the cylinder it is mainly upon the piston rings that compression depends. the piston should fit the cylinder with but little looseness, the usual practice being to have the piston about . -inch smaller than the bore for each inch of piston diameter at the point where the least heat is present or at the bottom of the piston. it is necessary to allow more than this at the top of the piston owing to its expansion due to the direct heat of the explosion. the clearance is usually graduated and a piston that would be . -inch smaller than the cylinder bore at the bottom would be about . -inch at the middle and . -inch at the top. if much more play than this is evidenced the piston will "slap" in the cylinder and the piston will be worn at the ends more than in the center. aluminum or alloy pistons require more clearance than cast iron ones do, usually . times as much. pistons sometimes warp out of shape and are not truly cylindrical. this results in the high spots rubbing on the cylinder while the low spots will be blackened where a certain amount of gas has leaked by. mention has been previously made of the necessity of reboring or regrinding a cylinder that has become scored or scratched and which allows the gas to leak by the piston rings. when the cylinder is ground out, it is necessary to use a larger piston to conform to the enlarged cylinder bore. most manufacturers are prepared to furnish over-size pistons, there being four standard over-size dimensions adopted by the s. a. e. for rebored cylinders. these are . -inch, . -inch, . -inch, and . -inch larger than the original bore. the piston rings should be taken out of the piston grooves and all carbon deposits removed from the inside of the ring and the bottom of the groove. it is important to take this deposit out because it prevents the rings from performing their proper functions by reducing the ring elasticity, and if the deposit is allowed to accumulate it may eventually result in sticking and binding of the ring, this producing excessive friction or loss of compression. when the rings are removed they should be tested to see if they retain their elasticity and it is also well to see that the small pins in some pistons which keep the rings from turning around so the joints will not come in line are still in place. if no pins are found there is no cause for alarm because these dowels are not always used. when fitted, they are utilized with rings having a butt joint or diagonal cut as the superior gas retaining qualities of the lap or step joint render the pins unnecessary. if gas has been blowing by the ring or if these members have not been fitting the cylinder properly the points where the gas passed will be evidenced by burnt, brown or roughened portions of the polished surface of the pistons and rings. the point where this discoloration will be noticed more often is at the thin end of an eccentric ring, the discoloration being present for about / -inch or / -inch each side of the slot. it may be possible that the rings were not true when first put in. this made it possible for the gas to leak by in small amounts initially which increased due to continued pressure until quite a large area for gas escape had been created. piston ring manipulation removing piston rings without breaking them is a difficult operation if the proper means are not taken, but is a comparatively simple one when the trick is known. the tools required are very simple, being three strips of thin steel about one-quarter inch wide and four or five inches long and a pair of spreading tongs made up of one-quarter inch diameter keystock tied in the center with a copper wire to form a hinge. the construction is such that when the hand is closed and the handles brought together the other end of the expander spreads out, an action just opposite to that of the conventional pliers. the method of using the tongs and the metal strips is clearly indicated at fig. . at a the ring expander is shown spreading the ends of the rings sufficiently to insert the pieces of sheet metal between one of the rings and the piston. grasp the ring as shown at b, pressing with the thumbs on the top of the piston and the ring will slide off easily, the thin metal strips acting as guide members to prevent the ring from catching in the other piston grooves. usually no difficulty is experienced in removing the top or bottom rings, as these members may be easily expanded and worked off directly without the use of a metal strip. when removing the intermediate rings, however, the metal strips will be found very useful. these are usually made by the repairman by grinding the teeth from old hacksaw blades and rounding the edges and corners in order to reduce the liability of cutting the fingers. by the use of the three metal strips a ring is removed without breaking or distorting it and practically no time is consumed in the operation. fitting piston rings before installing new rings, they should be carefully fitted to the grooves to which they are applied. the tools required are a large piece of fine emery cloth, a thin, flat file, a small vise with copper or leaden jaw clips, and a smooth hard surface such as that afforded by the top of a surface plate or a well planed piece of hard wood. after making sure that all deposits of burnt oil and carbon have been removed from the piston grooves, three rings are selected, one for each groove. the ring is turned all around its circumference into the groove it is to fit, which can be done without springing it over the piston as the outside edge of the ring may be used to test the width of the groove just as well as the inside edge. the ring should be a fair fit and while free to move circumferentially there should be no appreciable up and down motion. if the ring is a tight fit it should be laid edge down upon the piece of emery cloth which is placed on the surface plate and carefully rubbed down until it fits the groove it is to occupy. it is advisable to fit each piston ring individually and to mark them in some way to insure that they will be placed in the groove to which they are fitted. the repairman next turns his attention to fitting the ring in the cylinder itself. the ring should be pushed into the cylinder at least two inches up from the bottom and endeavor should be made to have the lower edge of the ring parallel with the bottom of the cylinder. if the ring is not of correct diameter, but is slightly larger than the cylinder bore, this condition will be evident by the angular slots of the rings being out of line or by difficulty in inserting the ring if it is a lap joint form. if such is the case the ring is removed from the cylinder and placed in the vise between soft metal jaw clips. sufficient metal is removed with a fine file from the edges of the ring at the slot until the edges come into line and a slight space exists between them when the ring is placed into the cylinder. it is important that this space be left between the ends, for if this is not done when the ring becomes heated the expansion of metal may cause the ends to abut and the ring to jam in the cylinder. [illustration: fig. .--method of removing piston rings, and simple clamp to facilitate insertion of rings in cylinder.] it is necessary to use more than ordinary caution in replacing the rings on the piston because they are usually made of cast iron, a metal that is very fragile and liable to break because of its brittleness. special care should be taken in replacing new rings as these members are more apt to break than old ones. this is probably accounted for by the heating action on used rings which tends to anneal the metal as well as making it less springy. the bottom ring should be placed in position first which is easily accomplished by springing the ring open enough to pass on the piston and then sliding it into place in the lower groove which on some types of engines is below the wrist pin, whereas in others all grooves are above that member. the other members are put in by a reversal of the process outlined at fig. , a and b. it is not always necessary to use the guiding strips of metal when replacing rings as it is often possible, by putting the rings on the piston a little askew and maneuvering them to pass the grooves without springing the ring into them. the top ring should be the last one placed in position. before placing pistons in the cylinder one should make sure that the slots in the piston rings are spaced equidistant on the piston, and if pins are used to keep the ring from turning one should be careful to make sure that these pins fit into their holes in the ring and that they are not under the ring at any point. practically all cylinders are chamfered at the lower end to make insertion of piston rings easier. the operation of putting on a cylinder casting over a piston really requires two pairs of hands, one to manipulate the cylinder, the other person to close the rings as they enter the cylinder. this may be done very easily by a simple clamp member made of sheet brass or iron and used to close the ring as indicated at fig. , c. it is apparent that the clamp must be adjusted to each individual ring and that the split portion of the clamp must coincide with the split portion of the ring. the cylinder should be well oiled before any attempt is made to install the pistons. the engine should be run with more than the ordinary amount of lubricant for several hours after new piston rings have been inserted. on first starting the engine, one may be disappointed in that the compression is even less than that obtained with the old rings. this condition will soon be remedied as the rings become polished and adapt themselves to the contour of the cylinder. wrist pin wear while wrist pins are usually made of very tough steel, case hardened with the object of wearing out an easily renewable bronze bushing in the upper end of the connecting rod rather than the wrist pin it sometimes happens that these members will be worn so that even the replacement of a new bushing in the connecting rod will not reduce the lost motion and attendant noise due to a loose wrist pin. the only remedy is to fit new wrist pins to the piston. where the connecting rod is clamped to the wrist pin and that member oscillates in the piston bosses the wear will usually be indicated on bronze bushings which are pressed into the piston bosses. these are easily renewed and after running a reamer through them of the proper size no difficulty should be experienced in replacing either the old or a new wrist pin depending upon the condition of that member. if no bushings are provided, as in alloy pistons, the bosses can sometimes be bored out and thin bushings inserted, though this is not always possible. the alternative is to ream out the bosses and upper end of rod a trifle larger after holes are trued up and fit oversize wrist pins. inspection and refitting of engine bearings while the engine is dismantled one has an excellent opportunity to examine the various bearing points in the engine crank-case to ascertain if any looseness exists due to depreciation of the bearing surfaces. as will be evident, both main crank-shaft bearings and the lower end of the connecting rods may be easily examined for deterioration. with the rods in place, it is not difficult to feel the amount of lost motion by grasping the connecting rod firmly with the hand and moving it up and down. after the connecting rods have been removed and the propeller hub taken off the crank-shaft to permit of ready handling, any looseness in the main bearing may be detected by lifting up on either the front or rear end of the crank-shaft and observing if there is any lost motion between the shaft journal and the main bearing caps. it is not necessary to take an engine entirely apart to examine the main bearings, as in most forms these may be readily reached by removing the sump. the symptoms of worn main bearings are not hard to identify. if an engine knocks regardless of speed or spark-lever position, and the trouble is not due to carbon deposits in the combustion chamber, one may reasonably surmise that the main bearings have become loose or that lost motion may exist at the connecting rod big ends, and possibly at the wrist pins. the main journals of any well resigned engine are usually proportioned with ample surface and will not wear unduly unless lubrication has been neglected. the connecting rod bearings wear quicker than the main bearings owing to being subjected to a greater unit stress, and it may be necessary to take these up. adjusting main bearings [illustration: fig. .--tools and processes used in refitting engine bearings.] when the bearings are not worn enough to require refitting the lost motion can often be eliminated by removing one or more of the thin shims or liners ordinarily used to separate the bearing caps from the seat. these are shown at fig. , a. care must be taken that an even number of shims of the same thickness are removed from each side of the journal. if there is considerable lost motion after one or two shims have been removed, it will be advisable to take out more shims and to scrape the bearing to a fit before the bearing cap is tightened up. it may be necessary to clean up the crank-shaft journals as these may be scored due to not having received clean oil or having had bearings seize upon them. it is not difficult to true up the crank-pins or main journals if the score marks are not deep. a fine file and emery cloth may be used, or a lapping tool such as depicted at fig. , b. the latter is preferable because the file and emery cloth will only tend to smooth the surface while the lap will have the effect of restoring the crank to proper contour. a lapping tool may be easily made, as shown at b, the blocks being of lead or hard wood. as the width of these are about half that of the crank-pin the tool may be worked from side to side as it is rotated. an abrasive paste composed of fine emery powder and oil is placed between the blocks, and the blocks are firmly clamped to the crank-pin. as the lead blocks bed down, the wing nut should be tightened to insure that the abrasive will be held with some degree of pressure against the shaft. a liberal supply of new abrading material is placed between the lapping blocks and crank-shaft from time to time and the old mixture cleaned off with gasoline. it is necessary to maintain a side to side movement of the lapping tool in order to have the process affect the whole width of the crank-pin equally. the lapping is continued until a smooth surface is obtained. if a crank-pin is worn out of true to any extent the only method of restoring it is to have it ground down to proper circular form by a competent mechanic having the necessary machine tools to carry on the work accurately. a crank-pin truing tool that may be worked by hand is shown at fig. , k. after the crank-shaft is trued the next operation is to fit it to the main bearings or rather to scrape these members to fit the shaft journal. in order to bring the brasses closer together, it may be necessary to remove a little metal from the edges of the caps to compensate for the lost motion. a very simple way of doing this is shown at fig. , d. a piece of medium emery cloth is rested on the surface plate and the box or brass is pushed back and forth over that member by hand, the amount of pressure and rapidity of movement being determined by the amount of metal it is necessary to remove. this is better than filing, because the edges will be flat and there will be no tendency for the bearing caps to rock when placed against the bearing seat. it is important to take enough off the edges of the boxes to insure that they will grip the crank tightly. the outer diameter must be checked with a pair of calipers during this operation to make sure that the surfaces remain parallel. otherwise, the bearing brasses will only grip at one end and with such insufficient support they will quickly work loose, both in the bearing seat and bearing cap. scraping brasses to fit to insure that the bearing brasses will be a good fit on the trued-up crank-pins or crank-shaft journals, they must be scraped to fit the various crank-shaft journals. the process of scraping, while a tedious one, is not difficult, requiring only patience and some degree of care to do a good job. the surface of the crank-pin is smeared with prussian blue pigment which is spread evenly over the entire surface. the bearings are then clamped together in the usual manner with the proper bolts, and the crank-shaft revolved several times to indicate the high spots on the bearing cap. at the start of the process of scraping in, the bearing may seat only at a few points as shown at fig. , g. continued scraping will bring the bearing surface as indicated at h, which is a considerable improvement, while the process may be considered complete when the brass indicates a bearing all over as at i. the high spots are indicated by blue, as where the shaft does not bear on the bearing there is no color. the high spots are removed by means of a scraping tool of the form shown at fig. , f, which is easily made from a worn-out file. these are forged to shape and ground hollow as indicated in the section, and are kept properly sharpened by frequent rubbing on an ordinary oil stone. to scrape properly, the edge of the scraper must be very keen. the straight and curved half-round scrapers, shown at m and n, are used for bearings. the three-cornered scraper, outlined at o, is also used on curved surfaces, and is of value in rounding off the sharp corners. the straight or curved half-round type works well on soft-bearing metals, such as babbitt, or white brass, but on yellow brass or bronze it cuts very slowly, and as soon as the edge becomes dull considerable pressure is needed to remove any metal, this calling for frequent sharpening. when correcting errors on flat or curved surfaces by hand-scraping, it is desirable, of course, to obtain an evenly spotted bearing with as little scraping as possible. when the part to be scraped is first applied to the surface-plate, or to a journal in the case of a bearing, three or four "high" spots may be indicated by the marking material. the time required to reduce these high spots and obtain a bearing that is distributed over the entire surface depends largely upon the way the scraping is started. if the first bearing marks indicate a decided rise in the surface, much time can be saved by scraping larger areas than are covered by the bearing marks; this is especially true of large shaft and engine bearings, etc. an experienced workman will not only remove the heavy marks, but also reduce a larger area; then, when the bearing is tested again, the marks will generally be distributed somewhat. if the heavy marks which usually appear at first are simply removed by light scraping, these "point bearings" are gradually enlarged, but a much longer time will be required to distribute them. the number of times the bearing must be applied to the journal for testing is important, especially when the box or bearing is large and not easily handled. the time required to distribute the bearing marks evenly depends largely upon one's judgment in "reading" these marks. in the early stages of the scraping operation, the marks should be used partly as a guide for showing the high areas, and instead of merely scraping the marked spot the surface surrounding it should also be reduced, unless it is evident that the unevenness is local. the idea should be to obtain first a few large but generally distributed marks; then an evenly and finely spotted surface can be produced quite easily. in fitting brasses when these are of the removable type, two methods may be used. the upper half of the engine base may be inverted on a suitable bench or stand and the boxes fitted by placing the crank-shaft in position, clamping down one bearing cap at a time and fitting each bearing in succession until they bed equally. from that time on the bearings should be fitted at the same time so the shaft will be parallel with the bottom of the cylinders. considerable time and handling of the heavy crank-shaft may be saved if a preliminary fitting of the bearing brasses is made by clamping them together with a carpenter's wood clamp as shown at fig. , j, and leaving the crank-shaft attached to the bench as shown at c. the brasses are revolved around the crank-shaft journal and are scraped to fit wherever high spots are indicated until they begin to seat fairly. when the brasses assume a finished appearance the final scraping should be carried on with all bearings in place and revolving the crank-shaft to determine the area of the seating. when the brasses are properly fitted they will not only show a full bearing surface, but the shaft will not turn unduly hard if revolved with a moderate amount of leverage. bearings of white metal or babbitt can be fitted tighter than those of bronze, and care must be observed in supplying lubricant as considerably more than the usual amount is needed until the bearings are run in by several hours of test block work. before the scraping process is started it is well to chisel an oil groove in the bearing as shown at fig. , l. grooves are very helpful in insuring uniform distribution of oil over the entire width of bearing and at the same time act as reservoirs to retain a supply of oil. the tool used is a round-nosed chisel, the effort being made to cut the grooves of uniform depth and having smooth sides. care should be taken not to cut the grooves too deeply, as this will seriously reduce the strength of the bearing bushing. the shape of the groove ordinarily provided is clearly shown at fig. , g, and it will be observed that the grooves do not extend clear to the edge of the bearing, but stop about a quarter of an inch from that point. the hole through which the oil is supplied to the bearing is usually drilled in such a way that it will communicate with the groove. the tool shown at fig. , k, is of recent development, and is known as a "crank-shaft equalizer." this is a hand-operated turning tool, carrying cutters which are intended to smooth down scored crank-pins without using a lathe. the feed may be adjusted by suitable screws and the device may be fitted to crank-pins and shaft-journals of different diameters by other adjusting screws. this device is not hard to operate, being merely clamped around the crank-shaft in the same manner as the lapping tool previously described, and after it has been properly adjusted it is turned around by the levers provided for the purpose, the continuous rotary motion removing the metal just as a lathe tool would. fitting connecting rods in the marine type rod, which is the form generally used in airplane engines, one or two bolts are employed at each side and the cap must be removed entirely before the bearing can be taken off of the crank-pin. the tightness of the brasses around the crank-pin can never be determined solely by the adjustment of the bolts, as while it is important that these should be drawn up as tightly as possible, the bearing should fit the shaft without undue binding, even if the brasses must be scraped to insure a proper fit. as is true of the main bearings, the marine form of connecting rod in some engines has a number of liners or shims interposed between the top and lower portions of the rod end, and these may be reduced in number when necessary to bring the brasses closer together. the general tendency in airplane engines is to eliminate shims in either the main or connecting rod bearings, and when wear is noticed the boxes or liners are removed and new ones supplied. the brasses are held in the connecting rod and cap by brass rivets and are generally attached in the main bearing by small brass machine screws. the form of box generally favored is a brass sand casting rich in copper to secure good heat conductivity which forms a backing for a thin layer of white brass, babbitt or similar anti-friction metal. [illustration: fig. .--showing points to observe when fitting connecting rod brasses.] in fitting new brasses there are two conditions to be avoided, these being outlined at fig. , b and c. in the case shown at c the light edges of the bushings are in contact, but the connecting rod and its cap do not meet. when the retaining nuts are tightened the entire strain is taken on the comparatively small area of the edges of the bushings which are not strong enough to withstand the strains existing and which flatten out quickly, permitting the bearing to run loose. in the example outlined at b the edges of the brasses do not touch when the connecting rod cap is drawn in place. this is not good practice, because the brasses soon become loose in their retaining member. in the case outlined it is necessary to file off the faces of the rod and cap until these meet, and to insure contact of the edges of the brasses as well. in event of the brasses coming together before the cap and rod make contact, as shown at c, the bearing halves should be reduced at the edges until both the caps and brasses meet against each other or the surfaces of the liners as shown at a. sprung cam-shaft if the cam-shaft is sprung or twisted it will alter the valve timing to such an extent that the smoothness of operation of the engine will be materially affected. if this condition is suspected the cam-shaft may be swung on lathe centers and turned to see if it runs out and can be straightened in any of the usual form of shaft-straightening machines. the shaft may be twisted without being sprung. this can only be determined by supporting one end of the shaft in an index head and the other end on a milling machine center. the cams are then checked to see that they are separated by the proper degree of angularity. this process is one that requires a thorough knowledge of the valve timing of the engine in question, and is best done at the factory where the engine was made. the timing gears should also be examined to see if the teeth are worn enough so that considerable back lash or lost motion exists between them. this is especially important where worm or spiral gears are used. a worn timing gear not only produces noise, but it will cause the time of opening and closing of the engine valves to vary materially. precautions in reassembling parts when all of the essential components of a power plant have been carefully looked over and cleaned and all defects eliminated, either by adjustment or replacement of worn portions, the motor should be reassembled, taking care to have the parts occupy just the same relative positions they did before the motor was dismantled. as each part is added to the assemblage care should be taken to insure adequate lubrication of all new points of bearing by squirting liberal quantities of cylinder oil upon them with a hand oil can or syringe provided for the purpose. in adjusting the crank-shaft bearings, tighten them one at a time and revolve the shafts each time one of the bearing caps is set up to insure that the newly adjusted bearing does not have undue friction. all retaining keys and pins must be positively placed and it is good practice to cover such a part with lubricant before replacing it because it will not only drive in easier, but the part may be removed more easily if necessary at some future time. if not oiled, rust collects around it. when a piece is held by more than one bolt or screw, especially if it is a casting of brittle material such as cast iron or aluminum, the fastening bolts should be tightened uniformly. if one bolt is tightened more than the rest it is liable to spring the casting enough to break it. spring washers, check nuts, split pins or other locking means should always be provided, especially on parts which are in motion or subjected to heavy loads. before placing the cylinder over the piston it is imperative that the slots in the piston rings are spaced equidistant and that the piston is copiously oiled before the cylinder is slipped over it. when reassembling the inlet and exhaust manifolds it is well to use only perfect packings or gaskets and to avoid the use of those that seem to have hardened up or flattened out too much in service. if it is necessary to use new gaskets it is imperative to employ these at all joints on a manifold, because if old and new gaskets are used together the new ones are apt to keep the manifold from bedding properly upon the used ones. it is well to coat the threads of all bolts and screws subjected to heat, such as cylinder head and exhaust manifold retaining bolts, with a mixture of graphite and oil. those that enter the water jacket should be covered with white or red lead or pipe thread compound. gaskets will hold better if coated with shellac before the manifold or other parts are placed over them. the shellac fills any irregularities in the joint and assists materially in preventing leakage after the joint is made up and the coating has a chance to set. before assembling on the shaft, it is necessary to fit the bearings by scraping, the same instructions given for restoring the contour of the main bearings applying just as well in this case. it is apparent that if the crank-pins are not round no amount of scraping will insure a true bearing. a point to observe is to make sure that the heads of the bolts are imbedded solidly in their proper position, and that they are not raised by any burrs or particles of dirt under the head which will flatten out after the engine has been run for a time and allow the bolts to slack off. similarly, care should be taken that there is no foreign matter under the brasses and the box in which they seat. to guard against this the bolts should be struck with a hammer several times after they are tightened up, and the connecting rod can be hit sharply several times under the cap with a wooden mallet or lead hammer. it is important to pin the brasses in place to prevent movement, as lubrication may be interfered with if the bushing turns round and breaks the correct register between the oil hole in the cap and brasses. care should be taken in screwing on the retaining nuts to insure that they will remain in place and not slack off. spring washers should not be used on either connecting rod ends or main bearing nuts, because these sometimes snap in two pieces and leave the nut slack. the best method of locking is to use well-fitting split pins and castellated nuts. testing bearing parallelism it is not possible to give other than general directions regarding the proper degree of tightening for a connecting rod bearing, but as a guide to correct adjustment it may be said that if the connecting rod cap is tightened sufficiently so the connecting rod will just about fall over from a vertical position due to the piston weight when the bolts are fully tightened up, the adjustment will be nearly correct. as previously stated, babbitt or white metal bearings can be set up more tightly than bronze, as the metal is softer and any high spots will soon be leveled down with the running of the engine. it is important that care be taken to preserve parallelism of the wrist-pins and crank-shafts while scraping in bearings. this can be determined in two ways. that shown at fig. , a, is used when the parts are not in the engine assembly and when the connecting rod bearing is being fitted to a mandrel or arbor the same size as the crank-pin. the arbor, which is finished very smooth and of uniform diameter, is placed in two v blocks, which in turn are supported by a level surface plate. an adjustable height gauge may be tried, first at one side of the wrist-pin which is placed at the upper end of the connecting rod, then at the other, and any variation will be easily determined by the degree of tilting of the rod. this test may be made with the wrist-pin alone, or if the piston is in place, a straight edge or spirit level may be employed. the spirit level will readily show any inclination while the straight edge is used in connection with the height gauge as indicated. of course, the surface plate must be absolutely level when tests are made. when the connecting rods are being fitted with the crank-shaft in place in crank-case, and that member secured in the frame, a steel square may be used as it is reasonable to assume that the wrist-pin, and consequently the piston it carries, should observe a true relation with the top of the engine base. if the piston side is at right angles with the top of the engine base it is reasonable to assume that the wrist-pin and crank-pin are parallel. if the piston is canted to one side or the other, it will indicate that the brasses have been scraped tapering, which would mean considerable heating and undue friction if the piston is installed in the cylinder on account of the pressure against one portion of the cylinder wall. if the degree of canting is not too great, the connecting rods may be sprung very slightly to straighten up the piston, but this is a makeshift that is not advised. the height gauge method shown above may be used instead of the steel square, if desired, because the top of the crank-case is planed or milled true and should be parallel with the center line of the crank-shaft. [illustration: fig. .--methods of testing to insure parallelism of bearings after fitting.] cam-shafts and timing gears knocking sounds are also evident if the cam-shaft is loose in its bearings, and also if the cams or timing gears are loose on the shaft. the cam-shaft is usually supported by solid bearings of the removable bushing type, having no compensation for depreciation. if these bearings wear the only remedy is replacement with new ones. in the older makes of cars it was general practice to machine the cams separately and to secure these to the cam-shaft by means of taper pins or keys. these members sometimes loosened and caused noise. in the event of the cams being loose, care should be taken to use new keys or taper pins, as the case may be. if the fastening used was a pin, the hole through the cam-shaft will invariably be slightly oval from wear. in order to insure a tight job, the holes in cam and shaft must be reamed with the next larger size of standard taper reamer and a larger pin driven in. another point to watch is the method of retaining the cam-shaft gear in place. on some engines the gear is fastened to a flange on the cam-shaft by retaining screws. these are not apt to become loose, but where reliance is placed on a key the cam-shaft gear may often be loose on its supporting member. the only remedy is to enlarge the key slot in both gear and shaft and to fit a larger retaining key. chapter xii aviation engine types--division in classes--anzani engines-- canton and unné engine--construction of gnome engines-- "monosoupape" gnome--german "gnome" type--le rhone engine-- renault air-cooled engine--simplex model "a" hispano-suiza-- curtiss aviation motors--thomas-morse model engine-- duesenberg engine--aeromarine six-cylinder--wisconsin aviation engines--hall-scott engines--mercedes motor--benz motor-- austro-daimler--sunbeam-coatalen. aviation engine types inasmuch as numerous forms of airplane engines have been devised, it would require a volume of considerable size to describe even the most important developments of recent years. as considerable explanatory matter has been given in preceding chapters and the principles involved in internal combustion engine operation considered in detail, a relatively brief review of the features of some of the most successful airplane motors should suffice to give the reader a complete enough understanding of the art so all types of engines can be readily recognized and the advantages and disadvantages of each type understood, as well as defining the constructional features enough so the methods of locating and repairing the common engine and auxiliary system troubles will be fully grasped. aviation engines can be divided into three main classes. one of the earliest attempts to devise distinctive power plant designs for aircraft involved the construction of engines utilizing a radial arrangement of the cylinders or a star-wise disposition. among the engines of this class may be mentioned the anzani, r. e. p. and the salmson or canton and unné forms. the two former are air-cooled, the latter design is water-cooled. engines of this type have been built in cylinder numbers ranging from three to twenty. while the simple forms were popular in the early days of aviation engine development, they have been succeeded by the more conventional arrangements which now form the largest class. the reason for the adoption of a star-wise arrangement of cylinders has been previously considered. smoothness of running can only be obtained by using a considerable number of cylinders. the fundamental reason for the adoption of the star-wise disposition is that a better distribution of stress is obtained by having all of the pistons acting on the same crank-pin so that the crank-throw and pin are continuously under maximum stress. some difficulty has been experienced in lubricating the lower cylinders in some forms of six cylinder, rotary crank, radial engines but these have been largely overcome so they are not as serious in practice as a theoretical consideration would indicate. another class of engines developed to meet aviation requirements is a complete departure from the preceding class, though when the engines are at rest, it is difficult to differentiate between them. this class includes engines having a star-wise disposition of the cylinders but the cylinders themselves and the crank-case rotate and the crank-shaft remains stationary. the important rotary engines are the gnome, the le rhone and the clerget. by far the most important classification is that including engines which retain the approved design of the types of power plants that have been so widely utilized in automobiles and which have but slight modifications to increase reliability and mechanical strength and produce a reduction in weight. this class includes the vertical engines such as the duesenberg and hall-scott four-cylinder; the wisconsin, aeromarine, mercedes, benz, and hall-scott six-cylinder vertical engines and the numerous eight- and twelve-cylinder vee designs such as the curtiss, renault, thomas-morse, sturtevant, sunbeam, and others. anzani engines the attention of the mechanical world was first directed to the great possibilities of mechanical flight when bleriot crossed the english channel in july, , in a monoplane of his own design and construction, having the power furnished by a small three-cylinder air-cooled engine rated at about horse-power and having cylinders . inches bore and . inches stroke, stated to develop the power at about r.p.m. and weighing pounds. the arrangement of this early anzani engine is shown at fig. , and it will be apparent that in the main, the lines worked out in motorcycle practice were followed to a large extent. the crank-case was of the usual vertically divided pattern, the cylinders and heads being cast in one piece and held to the crank-case by stud bolts passing through substantial flanges at the cylinder base. in order to utilize but a single crank-pin for the three cylinders it was necessary to use two forked rods and one rod of the conventional type. the arrangement shown at fig. , called for the use of counter-balanced flywheels which were built up in connection with shafts and a crank-pin to form what corresponds to the usual crank-shaft assembly. [illustration: fig. .--views outlining construction of three-cylinder anzani aviation motor.] the inlet valves were of the automatic type so that a very simple valve mechanism consisting only of the exhaust valve push rods was provided. one of the difficulties of this arrangement of cylinders was that the impulses are not evenly spaced. for instance, in the forms where the cylinders were placed degrees apart the space between the firing of the first cylinder and that next in order was degrees crank-shaft rotation, after which there was an interval of degrees before the last cylinder to fire delivered its power stroke. in order to increase the power given by the simple three-cylinder air-cooled engine a six-cylinder water-cooled type, as shown at figs. and , was devised. this was practically the same in action as the three-cylinder except that a double throw crank-shaft was used and while the explosions were not evenly spaced the number of explosions obtained resulted in fairly uniform application of power. [illustration: fig. a.--illustrations depicting wrong and right methods of "swinging the stick" to start airplane engine. at top, poor position to get full throw and get out of the way. below, correct position to get quick turn over of crank-shaft and spring away from propeller.] [illustration: fig. .--the anzani six-cylinder water-cooled aviation engine.] [illustration: fig. .--sectional view of anzani six-cylinder water-cooled aviation engine.] the latest design of three-cylinder anzani engine, which is used to some extent for school machines, is shown at fig. . in this, the three-cylinders are symmetrically arranged about the crank-case or degrees apart. the balance is greatly improved by this arrangement and the power strokes occur at equal intervals of degrees of crank-shaft rotation. this method of construction is known as the y design. by grouping two of these engines together, as outlined at fig. , which gives an internal view, and at fig. , which shows the sectional view, and using the ordinary form of double throw crank-shaft with crank-pins separated by degrees, a six-cylinder radial engine is produced which runs very quietly and furnishes a steady output of power. the peculiarity of the construction of this engine is in the method of grouping the connecting rod about the common crank-pin without using forked rods or the "mother rod" system employed in the gnome engines. in the anzani the method followed is to provide each connecting rod big end with a shoe which consists of a portion of a hollow cylinder held against the crank-pin by split clamping rings. the dimensions of these shoes are so proportioned that the two adjacent connecting rods of a group of three will not come into contact even when the connecting rods are at the minimum relative angle. the three shoes of each group rest upon a bronze sleeve which is in halves and which surrounds the crank-pin and rotates relatively to it once in each crank-shaft revolution. the collars, which are of tough bronze, resist the inertia forces while the direct pressure of the explosions is transmitted directly to the crank-pin bushing by the shoes at the big end of the connecting rod. the same method of construction, modified to some extent, is used in the le rhone rotary cylinder engine. [illustration: fig. .--three-cylinder anzani air-cooled y-form engine.] [illustration: fig. .--anzani fixed crank-case engine of the six-cylinder form utilizes air cooling successfully.] both cylinders and pistons of the anzani engines are of cast iron, the cylinders being provided with a liberal number of cooling flanges which are cast integrally. a series of auxiliary exhaust ports is drilled near the base of each cylinder so that a portion of the exhaust gases will flow out of the cylinder when the piston reaches the end of its power stroke. this reduces the temperature of the gases passing around the exhaust valves and prevents warping of these members. another distinctive feature of this engine design is the method of attaching the zenith carburetor to an annular chamber surrounding the rear portion of the crank-case from which the intake pipes leading to the intake valves radiate. the magneto is the usual six-cylinder form having the armature geared to revolve at one and one-half times crank-shaft speed. [illustration: fig. .--sectional view showing internal parts of six-cylinder anzani engine, with starwise disposition of cylinders.] [illustration: fig. .--the anzani ten-cylinder aviation engine at the left, and the twenty-cylinder fixed type at the right.] the anzani aviation engines are also made in ten- and twenty-cylinder forms as shown at fig. . it will be apparent that in the ten-cylinder form explosions will occur every degrees of crank-shaft rotation, while in the twenty-cylinder, horse-power engine at any instant five of the cylinders are always working and explosions are occurring every degrees of crank-shaft rotation. on the twenty-cylinder engine, two carburetors are used and two magnetos, which are driven at two and one-half times crank-shaft speed. the general cylinder and valve construction is practically the same, as in the simpler engines. [illustration: fig. .--application of r. e. p. five-cylinder fan-shape air-cooled motor to early monoplane.] canton and unnÉ engine this engine, which has been devised specially for aviation service, is generally known as the "salmson" and is manufactured in both france and great britain. it is a nine-cylinder water-cooled radial engine, the nine cylinders being symmetrically disposed around the crank-shaft while the nine connecting rods all operate on a common crank-pin in somewhat the same manner as the rods in the gnome motor. the crank-shaft of the salmson engine is not a fixed one and inasmuch as the cylinders do not rotate about the crank-shaft it is necessary for that member to revolve as in the conventional engine. the stout hollow steel crank-shaft is in two pieces and has a single throw. the crank-shaft is built up somewhat the same as that of the gnome engine. ball bearings are used throughout this engine as will be evident by inspecting the sectional view given at fig. . the nine steel connecting rods are machined all over and are fitted at each end with bronze bushings, the distance between the bearing centers being about . times crank length. the method of connecting up the rods to the crank-pin is one of the characteristic features of this design. no "mother" rod as supplied in the gnome engine is used in this type inasmuch as the steel cage or connecting rod carrier is fitted with symmetrically disposed big end retaining pins. inasmuch as the carrier is mounted on ball bearings some means must be provided of regulating the motion of the carrier as if no means were provided the resulting motion of the pistons would be irregular. [illustration: fig. .--the canton and unné nine-cylinder water-cooled radial engine.] the method by which the piston strokes are made to occur at precise intervals involves a somewhat lengthy and detailed technical explanation. it is sufficient to say that an epicyclic train of gears, one of which is rigidly attached to the crank-case so it cannot rotate is used, while other gears make a connection between the fixed gear and with another gear which is exactly the same size as the fixed gear attached to the crank-case and which is formed integrally with the connecting rod carrier. the action of the gearing is such that the cage carrying the big end retaining pins does not rotate independently of the crank-shaft, though, of course, the crank-shaft or rather crank-pin bearings must turn inside of the big end carrier cage. [illustration: fig. .--sectional view showing construction of canton and unné water-cooled radial cylinder engine.] cylinders of this engine are of nickel steel machined all over and carry water-jackets of spun copper which are attached to the cylinders by brazing. the water jackets are corrugated to permit the cylinder to expand freely. the ignition is similar to that of the fixed crank rotating cylinder engine. an ordinary magneto of the two spark type driven at - / times crank-shaft speed is sufficient to ignite the seven-cylinder form, while in the nine-cylinder engines the ignition magneto is of the "shield" type giving four sparks per revolution. the magneto is driven at - / times crank-shaft speed. nickel steel valves are used and are carried in castings or cages which screw into bosses in the cylinder head. each valve is cam operated through a tappet, push rod and rocker arm, seven cams being used on a seven-cylinder engine and nine cams on the nine-cylinder. one cam serves to open both valves as in its rotation it lifts the tappets in succession and so operates the exhaust and inlet valves respectively. this method of operation involves the same period of intake and exhaust. in normal engine practice the inlet valve opens degrees late and closes degrees late. the exhaust opens degrees early and closes degrees late. this means about degrees in the case of inlet valve and degrees crank-shaft travel for exhaust valves. in the salmson engine, the exhaust closes and the inlet opens at the outer dead center and the exhaust opens and the inlet closes at about the inner dead center. this engine is also made in a fourteen-cylinder b. h. p. design which is composed of two groups of seven-cylinders, and it has been made in an eighteen-cylinder design of horse-power. the nine-cylinder horse-power has a cylinder bore of . inches and a stroke of . inches. its normal speed of rotation is r. p. m. owing to the radial arrangement of the cylinders, the weight is but - / pounds per b. h. p. construction of early gnome motor it cannot be denied that for a time one of the most widely used of aeroplane motors was the seven-cylinder revolving air-cooled gnome, made in france. for a total weight of pounds this motor developed to horse-power at , revolutions, being equal to . pounds per horse-power, and has proved its reliability by securing many long-distance and endurance records. the same engineers have produced a nine-cylinder and by combining two single engines a fourteen-cylinder revolving gnome, having a nominal rating of horse-power, with which world's speed records were broken. a still more powerful engine has been made with eighteen-cylinders. the nine-cylinder "monosoupape" delivers horse-power at r. p. m., the engine of double that number of cylinders is rated at about horse-power. [illustration: fig. .--sectional view outlining construction of early type gnome valve-in-piston type motor.] except in the number of cylinders and a few mechanical details the fourteen-cylinder motor is identical with the seven-cylinder one; fully three-quarters of the parts used by the assemblers would do just as well for one motor as for the other. owing to the greater power demands of the modern airplane the smaller sizes of gnome engines are not used as much as they were except for school machines. there is very little in this motor that is common to the standard type of vertical motorcar engine. the cylinders are mounted radially round a circular crank-case; the crank-shaft is fixed, and the entire mass of cylinders and crank-case revolves around it as outlined at fig. . the explosive mixture and the lubricating oil are admitted through the fixed hollow crank-shaft, passed into the explosion chamber through an automatic intake valve in the piston head in the early pattern, and the spent gases exhausted through a mechanically operated valve in the cylinder head. the course of the gases is practically a radial one. a peculiarity of the construction of the motor is that nickel steel is used throughout. aluminum is employed for the two oil pump housings; the single compression ring known as the "obdurator" for each piston is made of brass; there are three or four brass bushes; gun metal is employed for certain pins--the rest is machined out of chrome nickel steel. the crank-case is practically a steel hoop, the depth depending on whether it has to receive seven-or fourteen-cylinders; it has seven or fourteen holes bored as illustrated on its circumference. when fourteen or eighteen cylinders are used the holes are bored in two distinct planes, and offset in relation one to the other. the cylinders of the small engine which have a bore of - / inches and a stroke of - / inches, are machined out of the solid bar of steel until the thickness of the walls is only . millimeters--. inch, or practically / inch. each one has twenty-two fins which gradually taper down as the region of greatest pressure is departed from. in addition to carrying away heat, the fins assist in strengthening the walls of the cylinder. the barrel of the cylinder is slipped into the hole bored for it on the circumference of the crank-case and secured by a locking member in the nature of a stout compression ring, sprung onto a groove on the base of the cylinder within the crank chamber. on each lateral face of the crank chamber are seven holes, drilled right through the chamber parallel with the crank-shaft. each one of these holes receives a stout locking-pin of such a diameter that it presses against the split rings of two adjacent cylinders; in addition each cylinder is fitted with a key-way. this construction is not always followed, some of the early gnome engines using the same system of cylinder retention as used on the latest "monosoupape" pattern. the exhaust valve is mounted in the cylinder head, fig. , its seating being screwed in by means of a special box spanner. on the fourteen-cylinder model the valve is operated directly by an overhead rocker arm with a gun metal rocker at its extremity coming in contact with the extremity of the valve stem. as in standard motor car practice, the valve is opened under the lift of the vertical push rod, actuated by the cam. the distinctive feature is the use of a four-blade leaf spring with a forked end encircling the valve stems and pressing against a collar on its extremity. on the seven-cylinder model the movement is reversed, the valve being opened on the downward pull of the push rod, this lifting the outer extremity of the main rocker arm, which tips a secondary and smaller rocker arm in direct contact with the extremity of the valve stem. the springs are the same in each case. the two types are compared at a and b, fig. . [illustration: fig. .--sectional view of early type gnome cylinder and piston showing construction and application of inlet and exhaust valves.] the pistons, like the cylinders, are machined out of the solid bar of nickel steel, and have a portion of their wall cut away, so that the two adjacent ones will not come together at the extremity of their stroke. the head of the piston is slightly reduced in diameter and is provided with a groove into which is fitted a very light l-section brass split ring; back of this ring and carried within the groove is sprung a light steel compression ring, serving to keep the brass ring in expansion. as already mentioned, the intake valves are automatic, and are mounted in the head of the piston as outlined at fig. , c. the valve seating is in halves, the lower portion being made to receive the wrist-pin and connecting rod, and the upper portion, carrying the valve, being screwed into it. the spring is composed of four flat blades, with the hollowed stem of the automatic valve passing through their center and their two extremities attached to small levers calculated to give balance against centrifugal force. the springs are naturally within the piston, and are lubricated by splash from the crank chamber. they are of a delicate construction, for it is necessary that they shall be accurately balanced so as to have no tendency to fly open under the action of centrifugal force. the intake valve is withdrawn by the use of special tools through the cylinder head, the exhaust valve being first dismounted. [illustration: fig. .--details of old style gnome motor inlet and exhaust valve construction and operation.] the fourteen-cylinder motor shown at fig. , has a two-throw crank-shaft with the throws placed at degrees, each one receiving seven connecting rods. the parts are the same as for the seven-cylinder motor, the larger one consisting of two groups placed side by side. for each group of seven-cylinders there is one main connecting rod, together with six auxiliary rods. the main connecting rod, which, like the others, is of h section, has machined with it two l-section rings bored with six holes-- - / degrees apart to take the six other connecting rods. the cage of the main connecting rod carries two ball races, one on either side, fitting onto the crank-pin and receiving the thrust of the seven connecting rods. the auxiliary connecting rods are secured in position in each case by a hollow steel pin passing through the two rings. it is evident that there is a slightly greater angularity for the six shorter rods, known as auxiliary connecting rods, than for the longer main rods; this does not appear to have any influence on the running of the motor. [illustration: fig. .--the gnome fourteen-cylinder horse-power aviation engine.] coming to the manner in which the earliest design exhaust valves are operated on the old style motor, this at first sight appears to be one of the most complicated parts of the motor, probably because it is one in which standard practice is most widely departed from. within the cylindrical casing bolted to the rear face of the crank-case are seven, thin flat-faced steel rings, forming female cams. across a diameter of each ring is a pair of projecting rods fitting in brass guides and having their extremities terminating in a knuckle eye receiving the adjustable push rods operating the overhead rocker arms of the exhaust valve. the guides are not all in the same plane, the difference being equal to the thickness of the steel rings, the total thickness being practically inches. within the female cams is a group of seven male cams of the same total thickness as the former and rotating within them. as the boss of the male cam comes into contact with the flattened portion of the ring forming the female cam, the arm is pushed outward and the exhaust valve opened through the medium of the push-rod and overhead rocker. this construction was afterwards changed to seven male cams and simple valve operating plunger and roller cam followers as shown at fig. . on the face of the crank-case of the fourteen-cylinder motor opposite to the valve mechanism is a bolted-on end plate, carrying a pinion for driving the two magnetos and the two oil pumps, and having bolted to it the distributor for the high-tension current. each group of seven-cylinders has its own magneto and lubricating pump. the two magnetos and the two pumps are mounted on the fixed platform carrying the stationary crank-shaft, being driven by the pinion on the revolving crank chamber. the magnetos are geared up in the proportion of to . mounted on the end plate back of the driving pinion are the two high-tension distributor plates, each one with seven brass segments let into it and connection made to the plugs by means of plain brass wire. the wire passes through a hole in the plug and is then wrapped round itself, giving a loose connection. [illustration: fig. .--cam and cam-gear case of the gnome seven-cylinder revolving engine.] [illustration: fig. .--diagrams showing why an odd number of cylinders is best for rotary cylinder motors.] a good many people doubtless wonder why rotary engines are usually provided with an odd number of cylinders in preference to an even number. it is a matter of even torque, as can easily be understood from the accompanying diagram. fig. , a, represents a six-cylinder rotary engine, the radial lines indicating the cylinders. it is possible to fire the charges in two ways, firstly, in rotation, , , , , , , thus having six impulses in one revolution and none in the next; or alternately, , , , , , , in which case the engine will have turned through an equal number of degrees between impulses and , and and , but a greater number between and , even again between and , and , and a less number between and , as will be clearly seen on reference to the diagram. turning to fig. , b, which represents a seven-cylinder engine. if the cylinders fire alternately it is obvious that the engine turns through an equal number of degrees between each impulse, thus, , , , , , , , , , etc. thus supposing the engine to be revolving, the explosion takes place as each alternate cylinder passes, for instance, the point on the diagram, and the ignition is actually operated in this way by a single contact. [illustration: fig. .--simple carburetor used on early gnome engines attached to fixed crank-shaft end.] the crank-shaft of the gnome, as already explained, is fixed and hollow. for the seven- and nine-cylinder motors it has a single throw, and for the fourteen- and eighteen-cylinder models has two throws at degrees. it is of the built-up type, this being necessary on account of the distinctive mounting of the connecting rods. the carburetor shown at fig. is mounted at one end of the stationary crank-shaft, and the mixture is drawn in through a valve in the piston as already explained. there is neither float chamber nor jet. in many of the tests made at the factory it is said the motor will run with the extremity of the gasoline pipe pushed into the hollow crank-shaft, speed being regulated entirely by increasing or decreasing the flow through the shut-off valve in the base of the tank. even under these conditions the motor has been throttled down to run at revolutions without misfiring. its normal speed is , to , revolutions a minute. castor oil is used for lubricating the engine, the oil being injected into the hollow crank-shaft through slight-feed fittings by a mechanically operated pump which is clearly shown in sectional diagrams at fig. . [illustration: fig. .--sectional views of the gnome oil pump.] the gnome is a considerable consumer of lubricant, the makers' estimate being pints an hour for the horse-power motor; but in practice this is largely exceeded. the gasoline consumption is given as to grammes per horse-power. the total weight of the fourteen-cylinder motor is pounds without fuel or lubricating oil. its full power is developed at , revolutions, and at this speed about horse-power is lost in overcoming air resistance to cylinder rotation. [illustration: fig. .--simplified diagram showing gnome motor magneto ignition system.] while the gnome engine has many advantages, on the other hand, the head resistance offered by a motor of this type is considerable; there is a large waste of lubricating oil due to the centrifugal force which tends to throw the oil away from the cylinders; the gyroscopic effect of the rotary motor is detrimental to the best working of the aeroplane, and moreover it requires about seven per cent. of the total power developed by the motor to drive the revolving cylinders around the shaft. of necessity, the compression of this type of motor is rather low, and an additional disadvantage manifests itself in the fact that there is as yet no satisfactory way of muffling the rotary type of motor. gnome "monosoupape" type the latest type of gnome engine is known as the "monosoupape" type because but one valve is used in the cylinder head, the inlet valve in the piston being dispensed with on account of the trouble caused by that member on earlier engines. the construction of this latest type follows the lines established in the earlier designs to some extent and it differs only in the method of charging. the very rich mixture of gas and air is forced into the crank-case through the jet inside the crank-shaft, and enters the cylinder when the piston is at its lowest position, through the half-round openings in the guiding flange and the small holes or ports machined in the cylinder and clearly shown at fig. . the returning piston covers the port, and the gas is compressed and fired in the usual way. the exhaust is through a large single valve in the cylinder head, which gives rise to the name "monosoupape," or single-valve motor, and this valve also remains open a portion of the intake stroke to admit air into the cylinder and dilute the rich gas forced in from the crank-case interior. aviators who have used the early form of gnome say that the inlet valve in the piston type was prone to catch on fire if any valve defect materialized, but the "monosoupape" pattern is said to be nearly free of this danger. the bore of the horse-power nine-cylinder engine is mm., the piston stroke mm. extremely careful machine work and fitting is necessary. in many parts, tolerances of less than . " (four ten thousandths of an inch) are all that are allowed. this is about one-sixth the thickness of the average human hair, and in other parts the size must be absolutely standard, no appreciable variation being allowable. the manufacture of this engine establishes new mechanical standards of engine production in this country. much machine work is needed in producing the finished components from the bar and forging. [illustration: fig. .--the g. v. gnome "monosoupape" nine-cylinder rotary engine mounted on testing stand.] [illustration: fig. .--sectional view showing construction of general vehicle co. "monosoupape" gnome engine.] the cylinders, for example, are machined from inch solid steel bars, which are sawed into blanks inches in length and weighing about pounds. the first operation is to drill a - / inch hole through the center of the block. a heavy-duty drilling machine performs this work, then the block goes to the lathe for further operations. fig. shows six stages of the progress of a cylinder, a few of the intermediate steps being omitted. these give, however, a good idea of the work done. the turning of the gills, or cooling flanges, is a difficult proposition, owing to the depth of the cut and the thin metal that forms the gills. this operation requires the utmost care of tools and the use of a good lubricant to prevent the metal from tearing as the tools approach their full depth. these gills are only . mm., or . in., thick at the top, tapering to a thickness of . mm. ( . in.) at the base, and are mm. ( . in.) deep. when the machine work is completed the cylinder weighs but - / pounds. [illustration: fig. .--how a gnome cylinder is reduced from solid chunk of steel weighing pounds to finished cylinder weighing - / pounds.] gnome fuel system, ignition and lubrication the following description of the fuel supply, ignition and oiling of the "monosoupape," or single valve gnome, is taken from "the automobile." gasoline is fed to the engine by means of air pressure at pounds per sq. in., which is produced by the air pump on the engine clearly shown at fig. . a pressure gauge convenient to the operator indicates this pressure, and a valve enables the operator to control it. no carburetor is used. the gasoline flows from the tank through a shut-off valve near the operator and through a tube leading through the hollow crank-shaft to a spray nozzle located in the crank-case. there is no throttle valve, and as each cylinder always receives the same amount of air as long as the atmospheric pressure is the same, the output cannot be varied by reducing the fuel supply, except within narrow limits. a fuel capacity of gallons is provided. the fuel consumption is at the rate of u. s. gallons per hour. the high-tension magnetos, with double cam or two break per revolution interrupter, is located on the thrust plate in an inverted position, and is driven at such a speed as to produce nine sparks for every two revolutions; that is, at - / times engine speed. a splitdorf magneto is fitted. there is no distributor on the magneto. the high-tension collector brush of the magneto is connected to a distributor brush holder carried in the bearer plate of the engine. the brush in this brush holder is pressed against a distributor ring of insulating material molded in position in the web of a gear wheel keyed to the thrust plate, which gear serves also for starting the engine by hand. molded in this ring of insulating material are nine brass contact sectors, connecting with contact screws at the back side of the gear, from which bare wires connect to the spark-plugs. the distributor revolves at engine speed, instead of at half engine speed as on ordinary engines, and the distributor brush is brought into electrical connection with each spark-plug every time the piston in the cylinder in which this spark-plug is located approaches the outer dead center. however, on the exhaust stroke no spark is being generated in the magneto, hence none is produced at the spark-plug. [illustration: fig. .--the gnome engine cam-gear case, a fine example of accurate machine work.] ordinarily the engine is started by turning on the propeller, but for emergency purposes as in seaplanes or for a quick "get away" if landing inadvertently in enemy territory, a hand starting crank is provided. this is supported in bearings secured to the pressed steel carriers of the engine and is provided with a universal joint between the two supports so as to prevent binding of the crank in the bearings due to possible distortion of the supports. the gear on this starting crank and the one on the thrust plate with which it meshes are cut with helical teeth of such hand that the starting pinion is thrown out of mesh as soon as the engine picks up its cycle. a coiled spring surrounds part of the shaft of the starting crank and holds it out of gear when not in use. [illustration: fig. .--g. v. gnome "monosoupape," with cam-case cover removed to show cams and valve-operating plungers with roller cam followers.] lubricating oil is carried in a tank of gallon capacity, and if this tank has to be placed in a low position it is connected with the air-pressure line, so that the suction of the oil pump is not depended upon to get the oil to the pump. from the bottom of the oil tank a pipe leads to the pump inlet. there are two outlets from the pump, each entering the hollow crank-shaft, and there is a branch from each outlet pipe to a circulation indicator convenient to the operator. one of the oil leads feeds to the housing in the thrust plate containing the two rear ball bearings, and the other lead feeds through the crank-pin to the cams, as already explained. owing to the effect of centrifugal force and the fact that the oil is not used over again, the oil consumption of a revolving cylinder engine is considerably higher than that of a stationary cylinder engine. fuel consumption is also somewhat higher, and for this reason the revolving cylinder engine is not so well suited for types of airplanes designed for long trips, as the increased weight of supplies required for such trips, as compared with stationary cylinder type motors, more than offsets the high weight efficiency of the engine itself. but for short trips, and especially where high speed is required, as in single seated scout and battle planes or "avions de chasse," as the french say, the revolving cylinder engine has the advantage. the oil consumption of the gnome engine is as high as . gallon per hour. castor oil is used for lubrication because it is not cut by the gasoline mist present in the engine interior as an oil of mineral derivation would be. german "gnome" type engine [illustration: fig. .--the horse-power rotary bayerischen motoren gesellschaft engine, a german adaptation of the early gnome design.] a german adaptation of the gnome design is shown at fig. . this is known as the bayerischen motoren gesellschaft engine and the type shown is an early design rated at horse-power. the bore is mm., the stroke is mm., and it is designed to run at a speed of , r. p. m. it is somewhat similar in design to the early gnome "valve-in-piston" design except that two valves are carried in the piston top instead of one. the valve operating arrangement is different also, as a single four point cam is used to operate the seven exhaust valves. it is driven by epicyclic gearing, the cam being driven by an internal gear machined integrally with it, the cam being turned at / times the engine speed. another feature is the method of holding the cylinders on the crank-case. the cylinder is provided with a flange that registers with a corresponding member of the same diameter on the crank-case. a u section, split clamping ring is bolted in place as shown, this holding both flanges firmly together and keeping the cylinder firmly seated against the crank-case flange. the "monosoupape" type has also been copied and has received some application in germany, but the most successful german airplanes are powered with six-cylinder vertical engines such as the benz and mercedes. the le rhone motor the le rhone motor is a radial revolving cylinder engine that has many of the principles which are incorporated in the gnome but which are considered to be an improvement by many foreign aviators. instead of having but one valve in the cylinder head, as the latest type "monosoupape" gnome has, the le rhone has two valves, one for intake and one for exhaust in each cylinder. by an ingenious rocker arm and tappet rod arrangement it is possible to operate both valves with a single push rod. inlet pipes communicate with the crank-case at one end and direct the fresh gas to the inlet valve cage at the other. another peculiarity in the design is the method of holding the cylinders in place. instead of having a vertically divided crank-case as the gnome engine has and clamping both halves of the case around the cylinders, the crank-case of the le rhone engine is in the form of a cylinder having nine bosses provided with threaded openings into which the cylinders are screwed. a thread is provided at the base of each cylinder and when the cylinder has been screwed down the proper amount it is prevented from further rotation about its own axis by a substantial lock nut which screws down against the threaded boss on the crank-case. the external appearance of the le rhone type motor is clearly shown at fig. , while the general features of construction are clearly outlined in the sectional views given at figs. and . [illustration: fig. --nine-cylinder revolving le rhone type aviation engine.] [illustration: fig. .--part sectional views of le rhone rotary cylinder engine, showing method of cylinder retention, valve operation and novel crank disc assembly.] [illustration: fig. .--side sectional view of le rhone aviation engine.] [illustration: fig. .--view showing le rhone valve action and connecting rod big end arrangement.] the two main peculiarities of this motor are the method of valve actuation by two large cams and the distinctive crank-shaft and connecting rod big end construction. the connecting rods are provided with "feet" or shoes on the end which fit into grooves lined with bearing metal which are machined into crank discs revolving on ball bearings and which are held together so that the connecting rod big ends are sandwiched between them by clamping screws. this construction is a modification of that used on the anzani six-cylinder radial engine. there are three grooves machined in each crank disc and three connecting rod big ends run in each pair of grooves. the details of this construction can be readily ascertained by reference to explanatory diagrams at figs. and , a. three of the rods which work in the groove nearest the crank-pin are provided with short shoes as shown at fig. , b. the short shoes are used on the rods employed in cylinders number , , and . the set of connecting rods that work in the central grooves are provided with medium-length shoes and actuate the pistons in cylinders numbers , , and . the three rods that work in the outside grooves have still longer shoes and are employed in cylinders numbers , , and . the peculiar profile of the inlet and exhaust cam plates are shown at c, fig. , while the construction of the wrist-pin, wrist-pin bushing and piston are clearly outlined at the sectional view at e. the method of valve actuation is clearly outlined at fig. , which shows an end section through the cam case and also a partial side elevation showing one of the valve operating levers which is fulcrumed at a central point and which has a roller at one end bearing on one cam while the roller or cam follower at the other end bears on the other cam. the valve rocker arm actuating rod is, of course, operated by this simple lever and is attached to it in such a way that it can be pulled down to depress the inlet valve and pushed up to open the exhaust valve. [illustration: fig. .--diagrams showing important components of le rhone motor.] [illustration: fig. .--how the cams of the le rhone motor can operate two valves with a single push rod.] a carburetor of peculiar construction is employed in the le rhone engine, this being a very simple type as outlined at fig. . it is attached to the threaded end of the hollow crank-shaft by a right and left coupling. the fuel is pumped to the spray nozzle, the opening in which is controlled by a fuel regulating needle having a long taper which is lifted out of the jet opening when the air-regulating slide is moved. the amount of fuel supplied the carburetor is controlled by a special needle valve fitting which combines a filter screen and which is shown at b. in regulating the speed of the le rhone engine, there are two possible means of controlling the mixture, one by altering the position of the air-regulating slide, which also works the metering needle in the jet, and the other by controlling the amount of fuel supplied to the spray nozzle through the special fitting provided for that purpose. [illustration: fig. .--the le rhone carburetor at a and fuel supply regulating device at b.] in considering the action of this engine one can refer to fig. . the crank o. m. is fixed, while the cylinders can turn about the crank-shaft center o and the piston turns around the crank-pin m, because of the eccentricity of the centers of rotation the piston will reciprocate in the cylinders. this distance is at its maximum when the cylinder is above o and at a minimum when it is above m, and the difference between these two positions is equal to the stroke, which is twice the distance of the crank-throw o, m. the explosion pressure resolves itself into the force f exerted along the line of the connecting rod a, m, and also into a force n, which tends to make the cylinders rotate around point o in the direction of the arrow. an odd number of cylinders acting on one crank-pin is desirable to secure equally spaced explosions, as the basic action is the same as the gnome engine. [illustration: fig. .--diagrams showing le rhone motor action and firing order.] the magneto is driven by a gear having teeth attached to crank-case which meshes with -tooth pinion on armature. the magneto turns at . times crank-case speed. two cams, one for inlet, one for exhaust, are mounted on a carrying member and act on nine rocker arms which are capable of giving a push-and-pull motion to the valve-actuating rocker-operating rods. a gear driven by the crank-case meshes with a larger member having internal teeth carried by the cam carrier. each cam has five profiles and is mounted in staggered relation to the other. these give the nine fulcrumed levers the proper motion to open the inlet and exhaust valves at the proper time. the cams are driven at / or / of the motor speed. the cylinder dimensions and timing follows; the weight can be approximated by figuring pounds per horse-power. h.p. m/m bore . " bore. m/m stroke . " stroke. h.p. m/m bore . " bore. m/m stroke . " stroke. timing--intake valve opening, lag °} °} intake valve closing, lag °} °} exhaust valve opening, lead °} h.p. °} h.p. exhaust valve closing, lag °} °} ignition time advance °} °} [illustration: fig. .--diagram showing positions of piston in le rhone rotary cylinder motor.] the renault air-cooled vee engine [illustration: fig. .--diagrams showing valve timing of le rhone aviation engine.] [illustration: fig. .--diagrams showing how cylinder cooling is effected in renault vee engines.] air-cooled stationary engines are rarely used in airplanes, but the renault frères of france have for several years manufactured a complete series of such engines of the general design shown at fig. , ranging from a low-powered one developed eight or nine years ago and rated at and horse-power, to later eight-cylinder models rated at horse-power and a twelve-cylinder, or twin six, rated at horse-power. the cylinders are of cast iron and are furnished with numerous cooling ribs which are cast integrally. the cylinder heads are separate castings and are attached to the cylinder as in early motorcycle engine practice, and serve to hold the cylinder in place on the aluminum alloy crank-case by a cruciform yoke and four long hold-down bolts (fig. ). the pistons are of cast steel and utilize piston rings of cast iron. the valves are situated on the inner side of the cylinder head, the arrangement being unconventional in that the exhaust valves are placed above the inlet. the inlet valves seat in an extension of the combustion head and are actuated by direct push rod and cam in the usual manner while an overhead gear in which rockers are operated by push rods is needed to actuate the exhaust valves. the valve action is clearly shown in figs. and . the air stream by which the cylinders are cooled is produced by a centrifugal or blower type fan of relatively large diameter which is mounted on the end of a crank-shaft and the air blast is delivered from this blower into an enclosed space between the cylinder from which it escapes only after passing over the cooling fins. in spite of the fact that considerable prejudice exists against air-cooling fixed cylinder engines, the renault has given very good service in both england and france. [illustration: fig. .--end sectional view of renault air-cooled aviation engine.] [illustration: fig. .--side sectional view of renault twelve-cylinder air-cooled aviation engine crank-case, showing use of plain and ball bearings for crank-shaft support.] as will be seen by the sectional view at fig. , the steel crank-shaft is carried in a combination of plain bearings inside the crank-case and by ball bearings at the ends. owing to air cooling, special precautions are taken with the lubrication system, though the lubrication is not forced or under high pressure. an oil pump of the gear-wheel type delivers oil from the sump at the bottom of the crank-case to a chamber above, from which the oil flows by gravity along suitable channels to the various main bearings. it flows from the bearings into hollow rings fastened to the crank-webs, and the oil thrown from the whirling connecting rod big ends bathes the internal parts in an oil mist. in the eight-cylinder designs ignition is effected by a magneto giving four sparks per revolution and is accordingly driven at engine speed. in the twelve-cylinder machine two magnetos of the ordinary revolving armature or two-spark type, each supplying six cylinders, are fitted as outlined at fig. . the carburetor is a float feed form. warm air is supplied for winter and damp weather by air pipes surrounding the exhaust pipes. the normal speed of the renault engine is , r. p. m., but as the propeller is mounted upon an extension of the cam-shaft the normal propeller speed is but half that of the engine, which makes it possible to use a propeller of large diameter and high efficiency. owing to the air cooling, but low compression may be used, this being about pounds per square inch, which, of course, lowers the mean effective pressure and makes the engine less efficient than water-cooled forms where it is possible to use compression pressure of or more pounds per square inch. the horse-power engine has cylinders with a bore of . inches and a stroke of . inches. its weight is given as pounds, when in running order, which figures . pounds per horse-power. the same cylinder size is used on the twelve-cylinder horse-power and the stroke is the same. this engine in running order weighs pounds, which figures approximately . pounds per b. h. p. [illustration: fig. .--end view of renault twelve-cylinder engine crank-case, showing magneto mounting.] [illustration: fig. .--diagram outlining renault twelve-cylinder engine ignition system.] simplex model "a" hispano-suiza the model a is of the water-cooled four-cycle vee type, with eight cylinders, . inch bore by . inch stroke, piston displacement cubic inches. at sea-level it develops horse-power at , r. p. m. it can be run successfully at much higher speeds, depending on propeller design and gearing, developing proportionately increased power. the weight, including carburetor, two magnetos, propeller hub, starting magneto and crank, but without radiator, water or oil or exhaust pipes, is pounds. average fuel consumption is . pound per horse-power hour and the oil consumption at , r. p. m. is three quarts per hour. the external appearance is shown at fig. . four cylinders are contained in each block, which is of built-up construction; the water jackets and valve ports are cast aluminum and the individual cylinders heat-treated steel forgings threaded into the bored holes of the aluminum castings. each block after assembly is given a number of protective coats of enamel, both inside and out, baked on. coats on the inside are applied under pressure. the pistons are aluminum castings, ribbed. connecting rods are tubular, of the forked type. one rod bears directly on the crank-pin; the other rod has a bearing on the outside of the one first mentioned. the crank-shaft is of the five-bearing type, very short, stiff in design, bored for lightness and for the oiling system. the crank-shaft extension is tapered for the french standard propeller hub, which is keyed and locked to the shaft. this makes possible instant change of propellers. the case is in two halves divided on the center line of the crank-shaft, the bearings being fitted between the upper and lower sections. the lower half is deep, providing a large oil reservoir and stiffening the engine. the upper half is simple and provides magneto supports on extension ledges of the two main faces. the valves are of large diameter with hollow stems, working in cast iron bushings. they are directly operated by a single hollow cam-shaft located over the valves. the cam-shafts are driven from the crank-shaft by vertical shafts and bevel gears. the cam-shafts, cams and heads of the valve stems are all enclosed in oil-tight removable housings of cast aluminum. [illustration: fig. .--the simplex model a hispano-suiza aviation engine, a very successful form.] oiling is by a positive pressure system. the oil is taken through a filter and steel tubes cast in the case to main bearings, through crank-shaft to crank-pins. the fourth main bearing is also provided with an oil lead from the system and through tubes running up the end of each cylinder block, oil is provided for the cam-shafts, cams and bearings. the surplus oil escapes through the end of the cam-shaft where the driving gears are mounted, and with the oil that has gathered in the top casing, descends through the drive shaft and gears to the sump. ignition is by two eight-cylinder magnetos firing two spark-plugs per cylinder. the magnetos are driven from each of the two vertical shafts by small bevel pinions meshing in bevel gears. the carburetor is mounted between the two cylinder blocks and feeds the two blocks through aluminum manifolds which are partly water-jacketed. the engine can be equipped with a geared hand crank-starting device. sturtevant model a horse-power engine these motors are of the eight-cylinder "v" type, four-stroke cycle, water-cooled, having a bore of inches and a stroke of - / inches, equivalent to mm. × mm. the normal operating speed of the crank-shaft is , r. p. m. the propeller shaft is driven through reducing gears which can be furnished in different gear ratios. the standard ratio is : , allowing a propeller speed of , r. p. m. the construction of the motor is such as to permit of the application of a direct drive. the change from the direct drive to gear drive, or vice versa, can be accomplished in approximately one hour. the cylinders are cast in pairs from an aluminum alloy and are provided with steel sleeves, carefully fitted into each cylinder. a perfect contact is secured between cylinder and sleeve; at the same time a sleeve can be replaced without injury to the cylinder proper. no difficulties due to expansion occur on account of the rapid transmission of heat and the fact that the sleeve is always at higher temperature than the cylinder. a moulded copper asbestos gasket is placed between the cylinder and the head, permitting the cooling water to circulate freely and at the same time insuring a tight joint. the cylinder heads are cast in pairs from an aluminum alloy and contain ample water passages for circulation of cooling water over the entire head. trouble due to hot valves is thereby eliminated, a most important consideration in the operation of an aeroplane motor. the water jacket of the head corresponds to the water jacket of the cylinders and large openings in both allow the unobstructed circulation of the cooling water. the cylinder heads and cylinders are both held to the base by six long bolts. the valves are located in the cylinder heads and are mechanically operated. the valves and valve springs are especially accessible and of such size as to permit high volumetric efficiency. the valves are constructed of hardened tungsten steel, the heads and stems being made from one piece. the valve rocker arms located on the top of the cylinder are provided with adjusting screws. a check nut enables the adjusting screw to be securely locked in position, once the correct clearance has been determined. the rocker arm bearings are adequately lubricated by a compression grease cup. cam-rollers are interposed between the cams and the push rods in order to reduce the side thrust on the push rods. a system of double springs is employed which greatly reduces the stress on each spring and insures utmost reliability. a spring of extremely large diameter returns the valve; a second spring located at the cylinder base handles the push rod linkage. these springs, which operate under low stress, are made from the best of steel and are given a special double heat treatment. the pistons are made from a special aluminum alloy; are deeply ribbed in the head for cooling and strength and provided with two piston rings. these pistons are exceedingly light weight in order to minimize vibration and prevent wear on the bearings. the piston pin is made of chrome nickel steel, bored hollow and hardened. it is allowed to turn, both in piston and connecting rod. the piston rings are of special design, developed after years of experimenting in aeronautical engines. the connecting rods are of "h" section, machined all over from forgings of a special air-hardening chrome nickel steel which, after being heat treated has a tensile strength of , pounds per square inch. they are consequently very strong and yet unusually light, and being machined all over are of absolutely uniform section, which gives as nearly perfect balance as can be obtained. the big ends are lined with white metal and the small ends are bushed with phosphor bronze. the connecting rods are all alike and take their bearings side by side on the crank-pin, the cylinders being offset to permit of this arrangement. the crank-shaft is machined from the highest grade chrome nickel steel, heat treated in order to obtain the best properties of this material. it is - / inches in diameter ( mm.) and bored hollow throughout, insuring maximum strength with minimum weight. it is carried in three large, bronze-backed white metal bearings. a new method of producing these bearings insures a perfect bond between the two metals and eliminates breakage. the base is cast from an aluminum alloy. great strength and rigidity is combined with light weight. the sides extend considerably below the center line of the crank-shaft, providing an extremely deep section. at all highly stressed points, deep ribs are provided to distribute the load evenly and eliminate bending. the lower half of the base is of cast aluminum alloy of extreme lightness. this collects the lubricating oil and acts as a small reservoir for same. an oil-filtering screen of large area covers the entire surface of the sump. the propeller shaft is carried on two large annular ball bearings driven from the crank-shaft by hardened chrome nickel steel spur gears. these gears are contained within an oil-tight casing integral with the base on the opposite end from the timing gears. a ball-thrust bearing is provided on the propeller shaft to take the thrust of a propeller or tractor, as the case may be. in case of the direct drive a stub shaft is fastened direct to the crank-shaft and is fitted with a double thrust bearing. the cam-shaft is contained within the upper half of the base between the two groups of cylinders, and is supported in six bronze bearings. it is bored hollow throughout and the cams are formed integral with the shaft and ground to the proper shape and finish. an important development in the shape of cams has resulted in a maintained increase of power at high speeds. the gears operating the cam-shaft, magneto, oil and water pumps are contained within an oil-tight casing and operate in a bath of oil. lubrication is of the complete forced circulating system, the oil being supplied to every bearing under high pressure by a rotary pump of large capacity. this is operated by gears from the crank-shaft. the oil passages from the pump to the main bearings are cast integral with the base, the hollow crank-shaft forming a passage through the connecting rod bearings and the hollow cam-shaft distributing the oil to the cam-shaft bearings. the entire surface of the lower half of the base is covered with a fine mesh screen through which the oil passes before reaching the pump. approximately one gallon of oil is contained within the base and this is continually circulated through an external tank by a secondary pump operated by an eccentric on the cam-shaft. this also draws fresh oil from the external tank which can be made of any desired capacity. specifications--model a type horse-power rating, at , r. p. m. bore, inches = mm. stroke, - / inches = mm. number of cylinders, . arrangement of cylinders, "v." cooling, water. circulation by centrifugal pump. cycle, four stroke. ignition (double), bosch or splitdorf magnetos. carburetor, zenith duplex. water jacket manifold. oiling system, complete forced. circulating gear pump. normal crank-shaft speed, , r. p. m. propeller shaft, / crank-shaft speed at normal, , r. p. m. stated power at " barometer, b. h. p. stated weight with all accessories but without water, gasoline or oil, pounds = kilos. weight per b. h. p., . pounds = . kilos. stated weight with all accessories with water, pounds = kilos. weight per b. h. p. with water, . pounds = . kilos. the curtiss aviation motors the curtiss ox motor has eight cylinders, -inch bore, -inch stroke, delivers horse-power at , turns, and the weight turns out at . pounds per horse-power. this motor has cast iron cylinders with monel metal jackets, overhead inclined valves operated by means of two rocker arms, push-and-pull rods from the central cam-shaft located in the crank-case. the cam and push rod design is extremely ingenious and the whole valve construction turns out very light. this motor is an evolution from the early curtiss type motor which was used by glenn curtiss when he won the gordon bennett cup at rheims. a slightly larger edition of this type motor is the oxx- , as shown at figs. and , which has cylinders - / inches by inches, delivers horse-power at , turns and has the same fuel and oil consumption as the ox type motor, namely, . pound of fuel per brake horse-power hour and . pound of lubricating oil per brake horse-power hour. [illustration: fig. .--the curtiss oxx- aviation engine is an eight-cylinder type largely used on training machines.] the curtiss company have developed in the last two years a larger-sized motor now known as the v- , which was originally rated at horse-power and which has since been refined and improved so that the motor gives horse-power at , turns, with a fuel consumption of / of a pound per brake horse-power hour and an oil consumption of . of a pound per brake horse-power hour. this larger motor has a weight of . pounds per horse-power and is now said to be giving very satisfactory service. the v- motor has drawn steel cylinders, with a bore of inches and a stroke of inches, with a steel water jacket top and a monel metal cylindrical jacket, both of which are brazed on to the cylinder barrel itself. both these motors use side by side connecting rods and fully forced lubrication. the cam-shafts act as a gallery from which the oil is distributed to the cam-shaft bearings, the main crank-shaft bearings, and the gearing. here again we find extremely short rods, which, as before mentioned, enables the height and the consequent weight of construction to be very much reduced. for ordinary flying at altitudes of , to , feet, the motors are sent out with an aluminum liner, bolted between the cylinder and the crank-case in order to give a compression ratio which does not result in pre-ignition at a low altitude. for high flying, however, these aluminum liners are taken out and the compression volume is decreased to about . per cent. of the total volume. [illustration: fig. .--top and bottom views of the curtiss oxx- horse-power aviation engine.] the curtiss aeroplane company announces that it has recently built, and is offering, a twelve-cylinder " × " motor, which was designed for aeronautical uses primarily. this engine is rated at horse-power, but it is claimed to develop at , r. p. m. weights--motor, , pounds; radiator, pounds; cooling water, pounds; propeller, pounds. gasoline consumption per horse-power hour, / pounds. oil consumption per hour at maximum speed-- pints. installation dimensions--overall length, - / inches; overall width, - / inches; overall depth, inches; width at bed, - / inches; height from bed, - / inches; depth from bed, - / inches. thomas-morse model engine the thomas-morse aircraft corporation of ithaca, n. y., has produced a new engine, model , bearing a close resemblance to the earlier model. the main features of that model have been retained; in fact, many parts are interchangeable in the two engines. supported by the great development in the wide use of aluminum, the thomas engineers have adopted this material for cylinder construction, which adoption forms the main departure from previous accepted design. the marked tendency to-day toward a higher speed of rotation has been conclusively justified, in the opinion of the thomas engineers, by the continued reliable performance of engines with crank-shafts operating at speeds near , revolutions per minute, driving the propeller through suitable gearing at the most efficient speed. high speed demands that the closest attention be paid to the design of reciprocating and rotating parts and their adjacent units. steel of the highest obtainable tensile strength must be used for connecting rods and piston pins, that they may be light and yet retain a sufficient factor of safety. piston design is likewise subjected to the same strict scrutiny. at the present day, aluminum alloy pistons operate so satisfactorily that they may be said to have come to stay. the statement often made in the past, that the gearing down of an engine costs more in the weight of reduction gears and propeller shaft than is warranted by the increase in horse-power, is seldom heard to-day. the mean effective pressure remaining the same, the brake horse-power of any engine increases as the speed. that is, an engine delivering brake horse-power at , revolutions per minute will show brake horse-power at , revolutions per minute, an increase of brake horse-power. to utilize this increase in horse-power, a matter of some fifteen pounds must be spent in gearing and another fifteen perhaps on larger valves, bearings, etc. two per cent. may be assumed lost in the gears. in other words, the increase in horse-power due to increasing the speed has been attained at the expense of about one pound per brake horse-power. the advantages of the eight-cylinder engine over the six and twelve, briefly stated, are: lower weight per horse-power, shorter length, simpler and stiffer crank-shaft, cam-shaft and crank-case, and simpler and more direct manifold arrangement. as to torque, the eight is superior to the six, and yet in practice not enough inferior to the twelve to warrant the addition of four more cylinders. it must, however, be recognized that the eight is subject to the action of inherent unbalanced inertia couples, which set up horizontal vibrations, impossible of total elimination. these vibrations are functions of the reciprocating weights, which, as already mentioned, are cut down to the minimum. vibrations due to the elasticity of crank-case, crank-shaft, etc., can be and are reduced in the thomas engine to minor quantities by ample webbing of the crank-case and judicious use of metal elsewhere. all things considered, there is actually so little difference to be discerned between the balance of a properly designed eight-cylinder engine and that of a six or twelve as to make a discussion of the pros and cons more one of theory than of practice. the main criticisms of the l head cylinder engine are that it is less efficient and heavier. this is granted, as it relates to cylinders alone. more thorough investigation, however, based on the main desideratum, weight-power ratio, leads us to other conclusions, particularly with reference to high speed engines. the valve gear must not be forgotten. a cylinder cannot be taken completely away from its component parts and judged, as to its weight value, by itself alone. a part away from the whole becomes an item unimportant in comparison with the whole. the valve gear of a high speed engine is a too often overlooked feature. the stamp of approval has been made by high speed automobile practice upon the overhead cam-shaft drive, with valves in the cylinder head operated direct from the cam-shaft or by means of valve lifters or short rockers. the overhead cam-shaft mechanism applied to an eight-cylinder engine calls for two separate cam-shafts carried above and supported by the cylinders in an oil-tight housing, and driven by a series of spur gears or bevels from the crank-shaft. it is patent that this valve gearing is heavy and complicated in comparison with the simple moving valve units of the l head engine, which are operated from one single cam-shaft, housed rigidly in the crank-case. the inherently lower volumetric efficiency of the l head engine is largely overcome by the use of a properly designed head, large valves and ample gas passages. again, the customary use of a dual ignition system gives to the l head a relatively better opportunity for the advantageous placing of spark-plugs, in order that better flame propagation and complete combustion may be secured. [illustration: fig. .--end view of thomas-morse horse-power aluminum cylinder aviation motor having detachable cylinder heads.] the thomas model engine is - / inch bore and - / inch stroke. the cylinders and cylinder heads are of aluminum, and as steel liners are used in the cylinders the pistons are also made of aluminum. this engine is actually lighter than the earlier model of less power. it weighs but pounds, with self-starter. the general features of design can be readily ascertained by study of the illustrations: fig. , which shows an end view; fig. , which is a side view, and fig. , which outlines the reduction gear-case and the propeller shaft supporting bearings. [illustration: fig. .--side view of thomas-morse high speed horse-power aviation motor with geared down propeller drive.] sixteen-valve duesenberg engine [illustration: fig. .--the reduction gear-case of thomas-morse horse-power aviation motor, showing ball bearing and propeller drive shaft gear.] this engine is a four-cylinder, - / " × ", horse-power at , r. p. m. of the crank-shaft and , r. p. m. of the propeller. motors are sold on above rating; actual power tests prove this motor capable of developing horse-power at , r. p. m. of the motor. the exact weight with magneto, carburetor, gear reduction and propeller hub, as illustrated, pounds; without gear reduction, pounds. this motor has been produced as a power plant weighing . pounds per horse-power, yet nothing has been sacrificed in rigidity and strength. at its normal speed it develops horse-power for every . cubic inches piston displacement. cylinders are semi-steel, with aluminum plates enclosing water jackets. pistons specially ribbed and made of magnalite aluminum compound. piston rings are special duesenberg design, being three-piece rings. valves are tungsten steel, - / " inlets and " exhausts, two of each to each cylinder. arranged horizontally in the head, allowing very thorough water-jacketing. inlet valves in cages. exhaust valves, seating directly in the cylinder head, are removable through the inlet valve holes. valve stems lubricated by splash in the valve action covers. valve rocker arms forged with cap screw and nut at upper end to adjust clearance. entirely enclosed by aluminum housing, as is entire valve mechanism. connecting rods are tubular, chrome nickel steel, light and strong. crank-shaft is one-piece forging, hollow bored, - / -inch diameter at main bearings. connecting rod bearings, - / -inch diameter, inches long. front main bearing, - / inches long; intermediate main bearing, - / inches long; rear main bearing, inches long. crank-case of aluminum, barrel type, oil pan on bottom removable. hand hole plates on both sides. strongly webbed. the oiling system of this sixteen-valve duesenberg motor is one of its vital features. an oil pump located in the base and submerged in oil forces oil through cored passages to the three main bearings, then through tubes under each connecting rod into which the rod dips. the oil is thrown off from these and lubricates every part of the motor. this constitutes the main oiling system; it is supplemented by a splash system, there being a trough under each connecting rod into which the rod slips. the oil is returned to the main supply sump by gravity, where it is strained and re-used. either system is in itself sufficient to operate the motor. a pressure gauge is mounted for observation on a convenient part of the system. a pressure of approximately pounds is maintained by the pressure system, which insures efficient lubrication at all speeds of the motor. the troughs under the connecting rods are so constructed that no matter what the angle of flight may be, oil is retained in each individual trough so that each connecting rod can dip up its supply of oil at each revolution. aeromarine six-cylinder vertical motor [illustration: fig. .--the six-cylinder aeromarine engine.] these motors are four-stroke cycle, six-cylinder vertical type, with cylinder - / " bore by - / " stroke. the general appearance of this motor is shown in illustration at fig. . this engine is rated at - horse-power. all reciprocating and revolving parts of this motor are made of the highest grades of steel obtainable as are the studs, nuts and bolts. the upper and lower parts of crank-case are made of composition aluminum casting. lower crank-case is made of high grade aluminum composition casting and is bolted directly to the upper half. the oil reservoir in this lower half casting provides sufficient oil capacity for five hours' continuous running at full power. increased capacity can be provided if needed to meet greater endurance requirements. oil is forced under pressure to all bearings by means of high-pressured duplex-geared pumps. one side of this pump delivers oil under pressure to all the bearings, while the other side draws the oil from the splash case and delivers it to the main sump. the oil reservoir is entirely separate from the crank-case chamber. under no circumstances will oil flood the cylinder, and the oiling system is not affected in any way by any angle of flight or position of motor. an oil pressure gauge is placed on instrument board of machine, which gives at all times the pressure in oil system, and a sight glass at lower half of case indicates the amount of oil contained. the oil pump is external on magneto end of motor, and is very accessible. an external oil strainer is provided, which is removable in a few minutes' time without the loss of any oil. all oil from reservoir to the motor passes through this strainer. pressure gauge feed is also attached and can be piped to any part of machine desired. the cylinders are made of high-grade castings and are machined and ground accurately to size. cylinders are bolted to crank-case with chrome nickel steel studs and nuts which securely lock cylinder to upper half of crank-case. the main retaining cylinder studs go through crank-case and support crank-shaft bearings so that crank-shaft and cylinders are tied together as one unit. water jackets are of copper, / " thick, electrically deposited. this makes a non-corrosive metal. cooling is furnished by a centrifugal pump, which delivers gallons per minute at , r. p. m. pistons are made cast iron, accurately machined and ground to exact dimensions, which are carefully balanced. piston rings are semi-steel rings of aeromarine special design. connecting rods are of chrome nickel steel, h-section. crank-shaft is made of chrome nickel steel, machined all over, and cut from solid billet, and is accurately balanced through the medium of balance weights being forged integral with crank. it is drilled for lightness and plugged for force feed lubrication. there are seven main bearings to crank-shaft. all bearings are of high-grade babbitt, die cast, and are interchangeable and easily replaced. the main bearings of the crank-shaft are provided with a single groove to take oil under pressure from pressure tube which is cast integral with case. connecting rod bearings are of the same type. the gudgeon pin is hardened, ground and secured in connecting rod, and is allowed to work in piston. cam-shaft is of steel, with cams forged integral, drilled for lightness and forced-feed lubrication, and is case-hardened. the bearings of cam-shaft are of bronze. magneto, two high-tension bosch d. u. . the intake manifold for carburetors are aluminum castings and are so designed that each carburetor feeds three cylinders, thereby insuring easy flow of vapor at all speeds. weight, pounds. [illustration: fig. .--the wisconsin aviation engine, at top, as viewed from carburetor side. below, the exhaust side.] wisconsin aviation engines [illustration: fig. .--dimensioned end elevation of wisconsin six motor.] the new six-cylinder wisconsin aviation engines, one of which is shown at fig. , are of the vertical type, with cylinders in pairs and valves in the head. dimensioned drawings of the six-cylinder vertical type are given at figs. and . the cylinders are made of aluminum alloy castings, are bored and machined and then fitted with hardened steel sleeves about / inch in thickness. after these sleeves have been shrunk into the cylinders, they are finished by grinding in place. gray iron valve seats are cast into the cylinders. the valve seats and cylinders, as well as the valve ports, are entirely surrounded by water jackets. the valves set in the heads at an angle of ° from the vertical, are made of tungsten steel and are provided with double springs, the outer or main spring and the inner or auxiliary spring, which is used as a precautionary measure to prevent a valve falling into the cylinder in remote case of a main spring breaking. the cam-shaft is made of one solid forging, case-hardened. it is carried in an aluminum housing bolted to the top of the cylinders. this housing is split horizontally, the upper half carrying the chrome vanadium steel rocker levers. the lower half has an oil return trough cast integral, into which the excess oil overflows and then drains back to the crank-case. small inspection plates are fitted over the cams and inner ends of the cam rocker levers. the cam-shaft runs in bronze bearings and the drive is through vertical shaft and bevel gears. [illustration: fig. .--dimensioned side elevation of wisconsin six motor.] the crank-case is made of aluminum, the upper half carrying the bearings for the crank-shaft. the lower half carries the oil sump in which all of the oil except that circulating through the system at the time is carried. the crank-shaft is made of chrome vanadium steel of an elastic limit of , pounds. the crank-pins and ends of the shaft are drilled for lightness and the cheeks are also drilled for oil circulation. the crank-shaft runs in bronze-backed, fahrig metal-lined bearings, four in number. a double thrust bearing is also provided, so that the motor may be used either in a tractor or pusher type of machine. outside of the thrust bearing an annular ball bearing is used to take the radial load of the propeller. the propeller is mounted on a taper. at the opposite end of the shaft a bevel gear is fitted which drives the cam-shaft, through a vertical shaft, and also drives the water and oil pumps and magnetos. all gears are made of chrome vanadium steel, heat-treated. the connecting rods are tubular and machined from chrome vanadium steel forgings. oil tubes are fitted to the rods which carry the oil up to the wrist-pins and pistons. the rods complete with bushings weigh - / pounds each. the pistons are made of aluminum alloy and are very light and strong, weighing only pounds ounces each. two leak-proof rings are fitted to each piston. the wrist-pins are hollow, of hardened steel, and are free to turn either in the piston or the rod. a bronze bushing is fitted in the upper end of the rod, but no bushing is fitted in the pistons, the hardened steel wrist-pins making an excellent bearing in the aluminum alloy. [illustration: fig. .--power, torque and efficiency curves of wisconsin aviation motor.] the water circulation is by centrifugal pump, which is mounted at the lower end of the vertical shaft. the water is pumped through brass pipes to the lower end of the cylinder water jackets and leaves the upper end of the jackets just above the exhaust valves. the lubricating system is one of the main features of the engines, being designed to work with the motor at any angle. the oil is carried in the sump, from where it is taken by the oil circulating pump through a strainer and forced through a header, extending the full length of the crank-case, and distributed to the main bearings. from the main bearings it is forced through the hollow crank-shaft to the connecting rod big ends and then through tubes on the rods to wrist-pins and pistons. another lead takes oil from the main header to the cam-shaft bearings. the oil forced out of the ends of the cam-shaft bearings fills pockets under the cams and in the cam rocker levers. the excess flows back through pipes and through the train of gears to the crank-case. a strainer is fitted at each end of the crank-case, through which the oil is drawn by separate pumps and returned to the sump. either one of these pumps is large enough to take care of all of the return oil, so that the operation is perfect whether the motor is inclined up or down. no splash is used in the crank-case, the system being a full force feed. an oil level indicator is provided, showing the amount of oil in the sump at all times. the oil pressure in these motors is carried at ten pounds, a relief valve being fitted to hold the pressure constant. [illustration: fig. .--timing diagram, wisconsin aviation engine.] ignition is by two bosch magnetos, each on a separate set of plugs fired simultaneously on opposite sides of the cylinders. should one magneto fail, the other would still run the engine at only a slight loss in power. the zenith double carburetor is used, three cylinders being supplied by each carburetor. this insures a higher volumetric efficiency, which means more power, as there is no overlapping of inlet valves whatever by this arrangement. all parts of these motors are very accessible. the water and oil pumps, carburetors, magnetos, oil strainer or other parts can be removed without disturbing other parts. the lower crank-case can be removed for inspection or adjustment of bearings, as the crank-shaft and bearing caps are carried by the upper half. the motor supporting lugs are also part of the upper crank-case. the six-cylinder motor, without carburetors or magnetos, weighs pounds. with carburetor and magnetos, the weight is pounds. the weight of cooling water in the motor is pounds. the sump will carry gallons of oil, or about pounds. a radiator can be furnished suitable for the motor, weighing pounds. this radiator will hold gallons of water or about pounds. the motor will drive a two-blade, feet diameter by . feet pitch paragon propeller revolutions per minute, developing horse-power. the weight of this propeller is pounds. this makes a total weight of motor, complete with propeller, radiator filled with water, but without lubricating oil, pounds, or about . pounds per horse-power for complete power plant. the fuel consumption is . pound per horse-power per hour. the lubricating oil consumption is . pound per horse-power per hour, or a total of . pounds per hour at revolutions per minute. this would make the weight of fuel and oil, per hour's run at full power at revolutions per minute, . pounds. principal dimensions following are the principal dimensions of the six-cylinder motor: bore inches. stroke - / inches. crank-shaft diameter throughout inches. length of crank-pin and main bearings - / inches. diameter of valves inches ( - / inches clear). lift of valves / inch. volume of compression space per cent. of total. diameter of wrist-pins - / inches. firing order - - - - - . the horse-power developed at revolutions per minute is , at revolutions per minute , at revolutions per minute . is the maximum speed at which it is recommended to run these motors. twelve-cylinder engine a twelve-cylinder v-type engine illustrated, is also being built by this company, similar in dimensions of cylinders to the six. the principal differences being in the drive to cam-shaft, which is through spur gears instead of bevel. a hinged type of connecting rod is used which does not increase the length of the motor and, at the same time, this construction provides for ample bearings. a double centrifugal water pump is provided for this motor, so as to distribute the water uniformly to both sets of cylinders. four magnetos are used, two for each set of six cylinders. the magnetos are very accessibly located on a bracket on the spur gear cover. the carburetors are located on the outside of the motors, where they are very accessible, while the exhaust is in the center of the valley. the crank-shaft on the twelve is - / inches in diameter and the shaft is bored to reduce weight. dimensioned drawings of the twelve-cylinder engine are given at figs. and and should prove useful for purposes of comparison with other motors. hall-scott aviation engines the following specifications of the hall-scott "big four" engines apply just as well to the six-cylinder vertical types which are practically the same in construction except for the structural changes necessary to accommodate the two extra cylinders. cylinders are cast separately from a special mixture of semi-steel, having cylinder head with valve seats integral. special attention has been given to the design of the water jacket around the valves and head, there being two inches of water space above same. the cylinder is annealed, rough machined, then the inner cylinder wall and valve seats ground to mirror finish. this adds to the durability of the cylinder, and diminishes a great deal of the excess friction. [illustration: fig. .--dimensioned end view of wisconsin twelve-cylinder airplane motor.] great care is taken in the casting and machining of these cylinders, to have the bore and walls concentric with each other. small ribs are cast between outer and inner walls to assist cooling as well as to transfer stresses direct from the explosion to hold-down bolts which run from steel main bearing caps to top of cylinders. the cylinders are machined upon the sides so that when assembled on the crank-case with grooved hold-down washers tightened, they form a solid block, greatly assisting the rigidity of crank-case. [illustration: fig. .--dimensioned side elevation of wisconsin twelve-cylinder airplane motor.] the connecting rods are very light, being of the i beam type, milled from a solid chrome nickel die forging. the caps are held on by two / "- thread chrome nickel through bolts. the rods are first roughed out, then annealed. holes are drilled, after which the rods are hardened and holes ground parallel with each other. the piston end is fitted with a gun metal bushing, while the crank-pin end carries two bronze serrated shells, which are tinned and babbitted hot, being broached to harden the babbitt. between the cap and rod proper are placed laminated shims for adjustment. crank-cases are cast of the best aluminum alloy, hand scraped and sand blasted inside and out. the lower oil case can be removed without breaking any connections, so that the connecting rods and other working parts can readily be inspected. an extremely large strainer and dirt trap is located in the center and lowest point of the case, which is easily removed from the outside without disturbing the oil pump or any working parts. a zenith carburetor is provided. automatic valves and springs are absent, making the adjustment simple and efficient. this carburetor is not affected by altitude to any appreciable extent. a hall-scott device, covered by u. s. patent no. , , , allows the oil to be taken direct from the crank-case and run around the carburetor manifold, which assists carburetion as well as reduces crank-case heat. two waterproof four-cylinder splitdorf "dixie" magnetos are provided. both magneto interruptors are connected to a rock shaft integral with the motor, making outside connections unnecessary. it is worthy of note that with this independent double magneto system, one complete magneto can become inoperative, and still the motor will run and continue to give good power. the pistons as provided in the a- engines are cast from a mixture of steel and gray iron. these are extremely light, yet provided with six deep ribs under the arch head, greatly aiding the cooling of the piston as well as strengthening it. the piston pin bosses are located very low in order to keep the heat from the piston head away from the upper end of the connecting rod, as well as to arrange them at the point where the piston fits the cylinder best. three / " rings are carried. the pistons as provided in the a- a engines are cast from aluminum alloy. four / " rings are carried. in both piston types a large diameter, heat treated, chrome nickel steel wrist-pin is provided, assembled in such a way as to assist the circular rib between the wrist-pin bosses to keep the piston from being distorted from the explosions. the oiling system is known as the high pressure type, oil being forced to the under side of the main bearings with from to points pressure. this system is not affected by extreme angles obtained in flying, or whether the motor is used for push or pull machines. a large gear pump is located in the lowest point of the oil sump, and being submerged at all times with oil, does away with troublesome stuffing boxes and check valves. the oil is first drawn from the strainer in oil sump to the long jacket around the intake manifold, then forced to the main distributor pipe in crank-case, which leads to all main bearings. a bi-pass, located at one end of the distributor pipe, can be regulated to provide any pressure required, the surplus oil being returned to the case. a special feature of this system is the dirt, water and sediment trap, located at the bottom of the oil sump. this can be removed without disturbing or dismantling the oil pump or any oil pipes. a small oil pressure gauge is provided, which can be run to the aviator's instrument board. this registers the oil pressure, and also determines its circulation. the cooling of this motor is accomplished by the oil as well as the water, this being covered by patent no. , , . this is accomplished by circulating the oil around a long intake manifold jacket; the carburetion of gasoline cools this regardless of weather conditions. crank-case heat is therefore kept at a minimum. the uniform temperature of the cylinders is maintained by the use of ingenious internal outlet pipes, running through the head of each of the six-cylinders, rubber hose connections being used so that any one of the cylinders may be removed without disturbing the others. slots are cut in these pipes so that cooler water is drawn directly around the exhaust valves. extra large water jackets are provided upon the cylinders, two inches of water space is left above the valves and cylinder head. the water is circulated by a large centrifugal pump insuring ample circulation at all speeds. the crank-shaft is of the five bearing type, being machined from a special heat treated drop forging of the highest grade nickel steel. the forging is first drilled, then roughed out. after this the shaft is straightened, turned down to a grinding size, then ground accurately to size. the bearing surfaces are of extremely large size, over-size, considering general practice in the building of high speed engines of similar bore and stroke. the crank-shaft bearings are " in diameter by - / " long, excepting the rear main bearing, which is - / " long, and front main bearing, which is - / " long. steel oil scuppers are pinned and sweated onto the webs of the shaft, which allows of properly oiling the connecting rod bearings. two thrust bearings are installed on the propeller end of the shaft, one for pull and the other for push. the propeller is driven by the crank-shaft flange, which is securely held in place upon the shaft by six keys. these drive an outside propeller flange, the propeller being clamped between them by six through bolts. the flange is fitted to a long taper on crank-shaft. this enables the propeller to be removed without disturbing the bolts. timing gears and starting ratchets are bolted to a flange turned integral with shaft. the cam-shaft is of the one piece type, air pump eccentric, and gear flange being integral. it is made from a low carbon specially heat treated nickel forging, is first roughed out and drilled entire length; the cams are then formed, after which it is case hardened and ground to size. the cam-shaft bearings are extra long, made from parson's white brass. a small clutch is milled in gear end of shaft to drive revolution indicator. the cam-shaft is enclosed in an aluminum housing bolted directly on top of all six cylinders, being driven by a vertical shaft in connection with bevel gears. this shaft, in conjunction with rocker arms, rollers and other working parts, are oiled by forcing the oil into end of shaft, using same as a distributor, allowing the surplus supply to flow back into the crank-case through hollow vertical tube. this supply oils the magneto and pump gears. extremely large tungsten valves, being one-half the cylinder diameter, are seated in the cylinder heads. large diameter oil tempered springs held in tool steel cups, locked with a key, are provided. the ports are very large and short, being designed to allow the gases to enter and exhaust with the least possible resistance. these valves are operated by overhead one piece cam-shaft in connection with short chrome nickel rocker arms. these arms have hardened tool steel rollers on cam end with hardened tool steel adjusting screws opposite. this construction allows accurate valve timing at all speeds with least possible weight. censored german airplane motors in a paper on "aviation motors," presented by e. h. sherbondy before the cleveland section of the s. a. e. in june, , the mercedes and benz airplane motor is discussed in some detail and portions of the description follow. [illustration: fig. .--side and end sectional views of four-cylinder argus engine, a german horse-power design having bore and stroke of mm., or . inches, and developing its power at , r.p.m. weight, pounds.] mercedes motor the horse-power six-cylinder mercedes motor is millimeters bore and millimeters stroke. the mercedes company started with smaller-sized cylinders, namely millimeters bore and millimeters stroke, six-cylinders. the principal features of the design are forged steel cylinders with forged steel elbows for gas passages, pressed steel water jackets, which when welded together forms the cylinder assembly, the use of inclined overhead valves operated by means of an overhead cam-shaft through rocker arms which multiply with the motion of the cam. by the use of steel cylinders, not only is the weight greatly reduced, but certain freedom from distortion through unequal sections, leaks and cracks are entirely avoided. the construction is necessarily very expensive. it is certainly a sound job. in the details of this construction there are a number of important things, such as finished gas passages, water-cooled valve guides and a very small mass of metal, which is water-cooled, surrounding the spark-plug. of course, it is necessary to use very high compression in aviation motors in order to secure high power and economy and owing to the fact that aviation motors are worked at nearly their maximum, the heat flow through the cylinder, piston, and valves is many times higher than that encountered in automobile motors. it has been found necessary to develop special types of pistons to carry the heat from the center of the head in order to prevent pre-ignition. in the mercedes motor the pistons have a drop forged steel head which includes the piston boss and this head is screwed into a cast iron skirt which has been machined inside to secure uniform wall thickness. censored [a] piston displacement (cubic inches) [b] weight of engine with carburetor and ignition [c] gas consumption ===========+======+======+======+=======+====+======+====+================= maker's |number|bore |stroke| | | | | name | of |(in- |(in- | | | | | and model | cyl. |ches) |ches) | [a] |h.p.|r.p.m.| [b]| [c] -----------+------+------+------+-------+----+------+----+----------------- aeromarine | | - / | - / | | | | | ... -----------+------+------+------+-------+----+------+----+----------------- aeromarine | | - / | - / | ... | ...| ... | | ... d- | | | | | | | | -----------+------+------+------+-------+----+------+----+----------------- curtiss ox | | | | . | | | | ... -----------+------+------+------+-------+----+------+----+----------------- curtiss | | - / | | . | | | | ... oxx- | | | | | | | | -----------+------+------+------+-------+----+------+----+----------------- curtiss v- | | | | | | | | ... -----------+------+------+------+-------+----+------+----+----------------- censored -----------+------+------+------+-------+----+------+----+----------------- general ve-| | . | . | | | | | gals/hour at hicle gnome mono | | | | | | |rated h.p. -----------+------+------+------+-------+----+------+----+----------------- gyro k | | - / | | ... | | | | gals/hour at rotary, le rhone type | | | | | |rated h.p. -----------+------+------+------+-------+----+------+----+----------------- gyro l | | - / | | | | | | gals/hour at rotary, le rhone type | | | | | |rated h.p. -----------+------+------+------+-------+----+------+----+----------------- hall-scott | | | | | -| | | ... a- | | | | | | | | -----------+------+------+------+-------+----+------+----+----------------- hall-scott | | | | | | | | ... a- | | | | | | | | -----------+------+------+------+-------+----+------+----+----------------- hispano- | | - / | | | | | | ... suiza | | | | | | | | -----------+------+------+------+-------+----+------+----+----------------- knox motors| | - / | | | | | | . gals/hour co. | | | | | | | | -----------+------+------+------+-------+----+------+----+----------------- maximotor | | - / | | | | | | ... a- | | | | | | | | -----------+------+------+------+-------+----+------+----+----------------- maximotor | | | | . | | | | ... b- | | | | | | | | -----------+------+------+------+-------+----+------+----+----------------- maximotor | | - / | | | | | | ... a- | | | | | | | | -----------+------+------+------+-------+----+------+----+----------------- packard | | | | | | | | ... -----------+------+------+------+-------+----+------+----+----------------- sturtevant | | | - / | . | | | | ... | | | | | | | | -----------+------+------+------+-------+----+------+----+----------------- sturtevant | | | - / | ... | | | | . gals/hour -a | | | | | | | | -----------+------+------+------+-------+----+------+----+----------------- thomas | | | - / | . | | | | ... | | | | | | |lbs. with self-starter -----------+------+------+------+-------+----+------+----+----------------- thomas | | - / | - / | . | | | | ... | | | | | | |lbs. with self-starter -----------+------+------+------+-------+----+------+----+----------------- wisconsin | | | - / | . | | | | ... -----------+------+------+------+-------+----+------+----+----------------- wisconsin | | | - / | . | | | ...| ... -----------+------+------+------+-------+----+------+----+----------------- the carburetor used on this horse-power mercedes motor is precisely of the same type used on the twin six motor. it has two venturi throats, in the center of which is placed the gasoline spray nozzle of conventional type, fixed size orifices, immediately above which are placed two panel type throttles with side outlets. an idling or primary nozzle is arranged to discharge above the top of the venturi throat. the carburetor body is of cast aluminum and is water jacketed. it is bolted directly to air passage passing through the top and bottom half of the crank-case which passes down through the oil reservoir. the air before reaching the carburetor proper to some extent has cooled the oil in the crank chamber and has itself been heated to assist in the vaporization. the inlet pipes themselves are copper. all the passages between the venturi throat and the inlet valve have been carefully finished and polished. the only abnormal thing in the design of this motor is the short connecting rod which is considerably less than twice the stroke and would be considered very bad practice in motor car engines. a short connecting rod, however, possesses two very real virtues in that it cuts down height of the motor and the piston passes over the bottom dead center much more slowly than with a long rod. [illustration: fig. .--part sectional view of horse-power mercedes engine, which is typical of the design of larger sizes.] other features of the design are a very stiff crank-case, both halves of which are bolted together by means of long through bolts, the crank-shaft main bearings are seated in the lower half of the case instead of in the usual caps and no provision is made for taking up the main bearings. the mercedes company uses a plunger type of pump having mechanically operated piston valves and it is driven by means of worm gearing. the overhead cam-shaft construction is extremely light. the cam-shaft is mounted in a nearly cylindrical cast bronze case and is driven by means of bevel gears from the crank-shaft. the vertical bevel gear shaft through which the drive is taken from the crank-shaft to the cam-shaft operates at one and one-half times the crank-shaft speeds and the reduction to the half-time cam-shaft is secured through a pair of bevels. on this vertical shaft there is mounted the water pump and a bevel gear for driving two magnetos. the water pump mounted on this shaft tends to steady the drive and avoid vibration in the gearing. the cylinder sizes of six-cylinder aviation motors which have been built by mercedes are bore stroke horse-power mm. mm. mm. mm. mm. mm. mm. mm. the largest of these motors has recently had its horse-power increased to at r. p. m. this general design of motor has been the foundation for a great many other aviation motor designs, some of which have proved very successful but none of which is equal to the original. among the motors which follow more or less closely the scheme of design and arrangement are the hall-scott, the wisconsin motor, the renault water-cooled, the packard, the christofferson and the rolls-royce. each of these motors show considerable variation in detail. the rolls-royce and renault are the only ones who have used the steel cylinder with the steel jacket. the wisconsin motor uses an aluminum cylinder with a hardened steel liner and cast-iron valve seats. the christofferson has somewhat similar design to the wisconsin with the exception that the valve seats are threaded into the aluminum jacket and the cylinder head has a blank end which is secured to the aluminum casting by means of the valve seat pieces. the rolls-royce motors show small differences in details of design in cylinder head and cam-shaft housing from the mercedes on which it has taken out patents, not only abroad but in this country. the benz motor in the kaiser prize contest for aviation motors a four-cylinder benz motor of by mm. won first prize, developing b. h. p. at r. p. m. the fuel consumption was grams per horse-power hour. total weight of the motor was kilograms. the oil consumption was . of a kilogram per horse-power hour. this motor was afterward expanded into a six-cylinder design and three different sizes were built. the accompanying table gives some of the details of weight, horse-power, etc. motor type b fd ff rated horse-power horse-power at r.p.m horse-power at r.p.m bore in millimeters stroke in millimeters offset of the cylinders in millimeters rate of gasoline consumption in grams oil consumption in grams per b.h.p. hour oil capacity in kilograms - / water capacity in litres - / - / - / the weight with water and oil but with two magnetos, fuel feeder and air pump in kilograms the weight of motors, including the water pump, two magnetos, double ignition, etc. the weight of the exhaust pipe, complete in kilograms . - / the weight of the propeller hub in kilograms. - / the benz cylinder is a simple, straightforward design and a very reliable construction and not particularly difficult to manufacture. the cylinder is cast of iron without a water jacket but including degrees angle elbows to the valve ports. the cylinders are machined wherever possible and at other points have been hand filed and scraped, after which a jacket, which is pressed in two halves, is gas welded by means of short pipes welded on to the jacket. the bottom and the top of the cylinders become water galleries, and by this means separate water pipes with their attendant weight and complication are eliminated. rubber rings held in aluminum clamps serve to connect the cylinders together. the whole construction turns out very neat and light. the cylinder walls are mm. or / " thick and the combustion chamber is of cylindrical pancake form and is mm. or . inch in diameter. the valve seats are mm. in diameter and the valve port is mm. in diameter. the passage joining the port is mm. in diameter. in order to insert the valves into the cylinder the valve stem is made with two diameters and the valve has to be cocked to insert it in the guide, which has a bronze bushing at its upper end to compensate for the smaller valve stem diameter. the valve stem is mm. or / " in diameter and is reduced at its upper portion to - / mm. the valves are operated through a push rod and rocker arm construction, which is / " and exceedingly light. rocker arm supports are steel studs with enlarged heads to take a double row ball bearing. a roller is mounted at one end of the rocker arm to impinge on the end of the valve stem, and the rocker arm has an adjustable globe stud at the other end. the push rods are light steel tubes with a wall thickness of . mm. and have a hardened steel cup at their upper end to engage the rocker arm globe stud and a hardened steel globe at their lower end to socket in the roller plunger. the benz cam-shaft has a diameter of mm. and is bored straight through mm. and there is a spiral gear made integrally with the shaft in about the center of its length for driving the oil pump gear. the cam faces are mm. wide. there is also, in addition to the intake and exhaust cams, a set of half compression cams. the shaft is moved longitudinally in its bearings by means of an eccentric to put these cams into action. at the fore end of the shaft is a driving gear flange which is very small in diameter and very thin. the flange is mm. in diameter and mm. thick and is tapped to take mm. bolts. the total length of cam-shaft is mm., and it becomes a regular gun boring job to drill a hole of this length. the cam-shaft gear is mm. or - / inches outside diameter. it has fifty-four teeth and the gear face is mm. or / ". the flange and web have an average thickness of mm. or / " and the web is drilled full of holes interposed between the spur gear mounted on the cam-shaft and the cam-shaft gear. there is a gear which serves to drive the magnetos and tachometer, also the air pump. the shaft is made integrally with this gear and has an eccentric portion against which the air pump roll plunger impinges. the seven-bearing crank-shaft is finished all over in a beautiful manner, and the shaft out of the particular motor we have shows no signs of wear whatever. the crank-pins are mm. in diameter and mm. long. through both the crank-pin and main bearings there is drilled a mm. hole, and the crank cheeks are plugged with solder. the crank cheeks are also built to convey the lubricant to the crank-pins. at the fore end of the crank cheek there is pressed on a spur driving gear. there is screwed on to the front end of the shaft a piece which forms a bevel water pump driving gear and the starting dog. at the rear end of the shaft very close to the propeller hub mounting there is a double thrust bearing to take the propeller thrust. long, shouldered studs are screwed into the top half of the crank-case portion of the case and pass clean through the bottom half of the case. the case is very stiff and well ribbed. the three center bearing diaphragms have double walls. the center one serves as a duct through which water pipe passes, and those on either side of the center form the carburetor intake air passages and are enlarged in section at one side to take the carburetor barrel throttle. the pistons are of cast iron and carry three concentric rings / inch wide on their upper end, which are pinned at the joint. the top of the piston forms the frustum of the cone and the pistons are mm. in length. the lower portion of the skirt is machined inside and has a wall thickness of mm. riveted to the piston head is a conical diaphragm which contacts with the piston pin when in place and serves to carry the heat off the center of the piston. the oil pump assembly comprises a pair of plunger pumps which draw oil from a separate outside pump, and constructed integrally with it is a gear pump which delivers the oil under about pound pressure through a set of copper pipes in the base to the main bearings. the plunger oil pump shows great refinement of detail. a worm wheel and two eccentrics are machined up out of one piece and serve to operate the plungers. [illustration: fig. .--part sectional side view and sectional end view of benz horse-power aviation engine.] some interesting details of the horse-power benz motor, which is shown at fig. , are reproduced from the "aerial age weekly," and show how carefully the design has been considered. maximum horse-power, . b. h. p. speed at maximum horse-power, , r. p. m. piston speed at maximum horse-power, , ft. per minute. normal horse-power, b. h. p. speed at normal horse-power, , r. p. m. piston speed at normal horse-power, , ft. per minute. brake mean pressure at maximum horse-power, . pound per square inch. brake mean pressure at normal horse-power, . pound per square inch. specific power cubic inch swept volume per b. h. p., . cubic inch; b. h. p. weight of piston, complete with gudgeon pin, rings, etc., . pound. weight of connecting rod, complete with bearings, . pound; . pound reciprocating. weight of reciprocating parts per cylinder, . pound. weight of reciprocating parts per square inch of piston area, . pound. outside diameter of inlet valve, mm.; . inches. diameter of inlet valve port (_d_), . mm.; . inches. maximum lift of inlet valve (_h_), mm.; . inch. area of inlet valve opening ([pi] _d_ _h_), . square cm.; . square inches. inlet valve opens, degrees on crank, top dead center. inlet valve closes, degrees on crank, ° late; mm. late. outside diameter of exhaust valve, mm.; . inches. diameter of exhaust valve port (_d_), . mm.; . inches. maximum lift of exhaust valve (_h_) mm.; . inch. area of exhaust valve opening ([pi] _d_ _h_), . square cm.; . square inches. exhaust valve opens, degrees on crank, ° early; mm. early. exhaust valve closes, degrees on crank, - / ° late; mm. late. length of connecting rod between centers, mm.; . inches. ratio connecting rod to crank throw, . : . diameter of crank-shaft, mm. outside, . inches; mm. inside, . inches. diameter of crank-pin, mm. outside, . inches; mm. inside, . inches. diameter of gudgeon pin, mm. outside, . inches; mm. inside, . inch. diameter of cam-shaft, mm. outside, . inches; mm. inside, . inch. number of crank-shaft bearings, . projected area of crank-pin bearings, . square cm.; . square inches. projected area of gudgeon pin bearings, . square cm.; . square inches. firing sequence, , , , , , . type of magnetos, zh bosch. direction of rotation of magneto from driving end, one clock, one anti-clock. magneto timing, full advance, ° early ( mm. early). type of carburetors ( ) benz design. fuel consumption per hour, normal horse-power, . pint. normal speed of propeller, engine speed, , r. p. m. austro-daimler engine one of the first very successful european flying engines which was developed in europe is the austro-daimler, which is shown in end section in a preceding chapter. the first of these motors had four-cylinders, by millimeters, bore and stroke, with cast iron cylinders, overhead valves operated by means of a single rocker arm, controlled by two cams and the valves were closed by a single leaf spring which oscillates with the rocker arm. the cylinders are cast singly and have either copper or steel jackets applied to them. the four-cylinder design was afterwards expanded to the six-cylinder design and still later a six-cylinder motor of by millimeters was developed. this motor uses an offset crank-shaft, as does the benz motor, and the effect of offset has been discussed earlier on in this treatise. the benz motor also uses an offset cam-shaft which improves the valve operation and changes the valve lift diagram. the lubrication also is different than any other aviation motor, since individual high pressure metering pumps are used to deliver fresh oil only to the bearings and cylinders, as was the custom in automobile practice some ten years ago. sunbeam aviation engines these very successful engines have been developed by louis coatalen. at the opening of the war the largest sized coatalen motor was horse-power and was of the l-head type having a single cam-shaft for operating valves and was an evolution from the twelve-cylinder racing car which the sunbeam company had previously built. since the sunbeam company have produced engines of six-, eight-, twelve- and eighteen-cylinders from to horse-power with both iron and aluminum cylinders. for the last two years all the motors have had overhead cam-shafts with a separate shaft for operating the intake and exhaust valves. cam-shafts are connected through to the crank-shaft by means of a train of spur gears, all of which are mounted on two double row ball bearings. in the twin six, horse-power engine, operating at r. p. m., requires about horse-power to operate the cam-shafts. this motor gives horse-power at revolutions and has a fuel consumption of / of a pint per brake horse-power hour. the cylinders are by millimeters. the same design has been expanded into an eighteen-cylinder which gives horse-power at turns. there has also been developed a very successful eight-cylinder motor rated at horse-power which has a bore and stroke of by millimeters, weight pounds. this motor is an aluminum block construction with steel sleeves inserted. three valves are operated, one for the inlet and two for the exhaust. one cam-shaft operates the three valves. [illustration: fig. .--at top, the sunbeam overhead valve horse-power six-cylinder engine. below, side view of sunbeam horse-power twelve-cylinder vee engine.] the modern sunbeam engines operate with a mean effective pressure of pounds with a compression ratio of to sea level. the connecting rods are of the articulated type as in the renault motor and are very short. the weight of these motors turns out at . pounds per brake horse-power, and they are able to go through a hour test without any trouble of any kind. the lubricating system comprises a dry base and oil pump for drawing the oil off from the base, whence it is delivered to the filter and cooling system. it then is pumped by a separate high pressure gear pump through the entire motor. in these larger european motors, castor-oil is used largely for lubrication. it is said that without the use of castor-oil it is impossible to hold full power for five hours. coatalen favors aluminum cylinders rather than cast iron. the series of views in figs. to inclusive, illustrates the vertical, narrow type of engine; the v-form; and the broad arrow type wherein three rows, each of six-cylinders, are set on a common crank-case. in this water-cooled series the gasoline and oil consumption are notably low, as is the weight per horse-power. [illustration: fig. .--side view of eighteen-cylinder sunbeam coatalen aircraft engine rated at b.h.p.] [illustration: fig. .--sunbeam eighteen-cylinder motor, viewed from pump and magneto end.] in the eighteen-cylinder overhead valve sunbeam-coatalen aircraft engine of brake horse-power, there are no fewer than half a dozen magnetos. each magneto is inclosed. two sparks are furnished to each cylinder from independent magnetos. on this engine there are also no fewer than six carburetors. shortness of crank-shaft, and therefore of engine length, and absence of vibration are achieved by the linking of the connecting-rods. those concerned with three-cylinders in the broad arrow formation work on one crank-pin, the outer rods being linked to the central master one. in consequence of this arrangement, the piston travel in the case of the central row of cylinders is mm., while the stroke of the pistons of the cylinders set on either side is in each case mm. inasmuch as each set of six-cylinders is completely balanced in itself, this difference in stroke does not affect the balance of the engine as a whole. the duplicate ignition scheme also applies to the twelve-cylinder brake horse-power sunbeam-coatalen overhead valve aircraft engine type. it is distinguishable, incidentally, by the passage formed through the center of each induction pipe for the sparking plug in the center cylinder of each block of three. in this, as in the eighteen-cylinder and the six-cylinder types, there are two cam-shafts for each set of cylinders. these cam-shafts are lubricated by low pressure and are operated through a train of inclosed spur wheels at the magneto end of the machine. the six-cylinder, brake horse-power vertical type employs the same general principles, including the detail that each carburetor serves gas to a group of three-cylinders only. it will be observed that this engine presents notably little head resistance, being suitable for multi-engined aircraft. [illustration: fig. .--propeller end of sunbeam eighteen-cylinder b.h.p. aviation engine.] indicating meters for auxiliary systems [illustration: fig. .--view of airplane cowl board, showing the various navigating and indicating instruments to aid the aviator in flight.] the proper functioning of the power plant and the various groups comprising it may be readily ascertained at any time by the pilot because various indicating meters and pressure gauges are provided which are located on a dash or cowl board in front of the aviator, as shown at fig. . the speed indicator corresponds to the speedometer of an automobile and gives an indication of the speed the airplane is making, which taken in conjunction with the clock will make it possible to determine the distance covered at a flight. the altimeter, which is an aneroid barometer, outlines with fair accuracy the height above the ground at which a plane is flying. these instruments are furnished to enable the aviator to navigate the airplane when in the air, and if the machine is to be used for cross-country flying, they may be supplemented by a compass and a drift set. it will be evident that these are purely navigating instruments and only indicate the motor condition in an indirect manner. the best way of keeping track of the motor action is to watch the tachometer or revolution counter which is driven from the engine by a flexible shaft. this indicates directly the number of revolutions the engine is making per minute and, of course, any slowing up of the engine in normal flights indicates that something is not functioning as it should. the tachometer operates on the same principle as the speed indicating device or speedometer used in automobiles except that the dial is calibrated to show revolutions per minute instead of miles per hour. at the extreme right of the dash at fig. the spark advance and throttle control levers are placed. these, of course, regulate the motor speed just as they do in an automobile. next to the engine speed regulating levers is placed a push button cut-out switch to cut out the ignition and stop the motor. three pressure gauges are placed in a line. the one at the extreme right indicates the pressure of air on the fuel when a pressure feed system is used. the middle one shows oil pressure, while that nearest the center of the dash board is employed to show the air pressure available in the air starting system. it will be evident that the character of the indicating instruments will vary with the design of the airplane. if it was provided with an electrical starter instead of an air system electrical indicating instruments would have to be provided. compressed air-starting systems two forms of air-starting systems are in general use, one in which the crank-shaft is turned by means of an air motor, the other class where compressed air is admitted to the cylinders proper and the motor turned over because of the air pressure acting on the engine pistons. a system known as the "never-miss" utilizes a small double-cylinder air pump is driven from the engine by means of suitable gearing and supplies air to a substantial container located at some convenient point in the fuselage. the air is piped from the container to a dash-control valve and from this member to a peculiar form of air motor mounted near the crank-shaft. the air motor consists of a piston to which a rack is fastened which engages a gear mounted on the crank shaft provided with some form of ratchet clutch to permit it to revolve only in one direction, and then only when the gear is turning faster than the engine crank-shaft. the method of operation is extremely simple, the dash-control valve admitting air from the supply tank to the top of the pump cylinder. when in the position shown in cut the air pressure will force the piston and rack down and set the engine in motion. a variety of air motors are used and in some the pump and motor may be the same device, means being provided to change the pump to an air motor when the engine is to be turned over. the "christensen" air starting system is shown at figs. and . an air pump is driven by the engine, and this supplies air to an air reservoir or container attached to the fuselage. this container communicates with the top of an air distributor when a suitable control valve is open. an air pressure gauge is provided to enable one to ascertain the air pressure available. the top of each cylinder is provided with a check valve, through which air can flow only in one direction, i.e., from the tank to the interior of the cylinder. under explosive pressure these check valves close. the function of the distributor is practically the same as that of an ignition timer, its purpose being to distribute the air to the cylinders of the engine only in the proper firing order. all the while that the engine is running and the car is in motion the air pump is functioning, unless thrown out of action by an easily manipulated automatic control. when it is desired to start the engine a starting valve is opened which permits the air to flow to the top of the distributor, and then through a pipe to the check valve on top of the cylinder about to explode. as the air is going through under considerable pressure it will move the piston down just as the explosion would, and start the engine rotating. the inside of the distributor rotates and directs a charge of air to the cylinder next to fire. in this way the engine is given a number of revolutions, and finally a charge of gas will be ignited and the engine start off on its cycle of operation. to make starting positive and easier some gasoline is injected in with the air so an inflammable mixture is present in the cylinders instead of air only. this ignites easily and the engine starts off sooner than would otherwise be the case. the air pressure required varies from to pounds per square inch, depending upon the size and type of the engine to be set in motion. [illustration: fig. .--parts of christensen air starting system shown at a, and application of piping and check valves to cylinders of thomas-morse aeromotor outlined at b.] [illustration: fig. .--diagrams showing installation of air starting system on thomas-morse aviation motor.] electric starting systems starters utilizing electric motors to turn over the engine have been recently developed, and when properly made and maintained in an efficient condition they answer all the requirements of an ideal starting device. the capacity is very high, as the motor may draw current from a storage battery and keep the engine turning over for considerable time on a charge. the objection against their use is that it requires considerable complicated and costly apparatus which is difficult to understand and which requires the services of an expert electrician to repair should it get out of order, though if battery ignition is used the generator takes the place of the usual ignition magneto. in the delco system the electric current is generated by a combined motor-generator permanently geared to the engine. when the motor is running it turns the armature and the motor generator is acting as a dynamo, only supplying current to a storage battery. on account of the varying speeds of the generator, which are due to the fluctuation in engine speed, some form of automatic switch which will disconnect the generator from the battery at such times that the motor speed is not sufficiently high to generate a current stronger than that delivered by the battery is needed. these automatic switches are the only delicate part of the entire apparatus, and while they require very delicate adjustment they seem to perform very satisfactorily in practice. when it is desired to start the engine an electrical connection is established between the storage battery and the motor-generator unit, and this acts as a motor and turns the engine over by suitable gearing which engages the gear teeth cut into a special gear or disc attached to the engine crank-shaft. when the motor-generator furnishes current for ignition as well as for starting the motor, the fact that the current can be used for this work as well as starting justifies to a certain extent the rather complicated mechanism which forms a complete starting and ignition system, and which may also be used for lighting if necessary in night flying. an electric generator and motor do not complete a self-starting system, because some reservoir or container for electric current must be provided. the current from the generator is usually stored in a storage battery from which it can be made to return to the motor or to the same armature that produced it. the fundamental units of a self-starting system, therefore, are a generator to produce the electricity, a storage battery to serve as a reservoir, and an electric motor to rotate the motor crank-shaft. generators are usually driven by enclosed gearing, though silent chains are used where the center distance between the motor shaft and generator shaft is too great for the gears. an electric starter may be directly connected to the gasoline engine, as is the case where the combined motor-generator replaces the fly-wheel in an automobile engine. the motor may also drive the engine by means of a silent chain or by direct gear reduction. every electric starter must use a switch of some kind for starting purposes and most systems include an output regulator and a reverse current cut-out. the output regulator is a simple device that regulates the strength of the generator current that is supplied the storage battery. a reverse current cut-out is a form of check valve that prevents the storage battery from discharging through the generator. brief mention is made of electric starting because such systems will undoubtedly be incorporated in some future airplane designs. battery ignition is already being experimented with. battery ignition system parts a battery ignition system in its simplest form consists of a current producer, usually a set of dry cells or a storage battery, an induction coil to transform the low tension current to one having sufficient strength to jump the air gap at the spark-plug, an igniter member placed in the combustion chamber and a timer or mechanical switch operated by the engine so that the circuit will be closed only when it is desired to have a spark take place in the cylinders. battery ignition systems may be of two forms, those in which the battery current is stepped up or intensified to enable it to jump an air gap between the points of the spark plug, these being called "high tension" systems and the low tension form (never used on airplane motors) in which the battery current is not intensified to a great degree and a spark produced in the cylinder by the action of a mechanical circuit breaker in the combustion chamber. the low tension system is the simplest electrically but the more complex mechanically. the high tension system has the fewest moving parts but numerous electrical devices. at the present time all airplane engines use high tension ignition systems, the magneto being the most popular at the present time. the current distribution and timing devices used with modern battery systems are practically the same as similar parts of a magneto. index page a action of four-cycle engine action of le rhone rotary engine action of two-cycle engine action of vacuum feed system actual duration of different functions actual heat efficiency adiabatic diagram adiabatic law adjustment of bearings adjustment of carburetors aerial motors, must be light aerial motors, operating conditions of aerial motors, requirements of aeromarine six-cylinder engine aeronautics, division in branches aerostatics air-cooled engine design air-cooling advantages air-cooling, direct method air-cooling disadvantages air-cooling systems aircraft, heavier than air aircraft, lighter than air aircraft types, brief consideration of air needed to burn gasoline airplane engine, power needed airplane engines, overhauling airplane engine, how to time airplane engine lubrication airplane, how supported airplane motors, german airplane motor types airplane motors, weight of airplane power plant installation airplane types airplanes, horse-power used in air pressure diminution, with altitude altitude, how it affects mixture aluminum, use in pistons american aviation engines, statistics anzani radial engine installation anzani six-cylinder star engine anzani six-cylinder water-cooled engine anzani ten- and twenty-cylinder engines anzani three-cylinder engine anzani three-cylinder y type argus engine construction armature windings atmospheric conditions, compensating for austro-daimler engine aviatics aviation engine, aeromarine aviation engine, anzani six-cylinder star aviation engine, canton and unné aviation engine cooling aviation engine, curtiss aviation engine cylinders aviation engine, early gnome aviation engine, german gnome type aviation engine, gnome monosoupape aviation engine, how to dismantle aviation engine, how to start aviation engine, le rhone rotary aviation engine oiling aviation engine parts, functions of aviation engine, renault air-cooled aviation engine, stand for supporting aviation engine, sturtevant aviation engine, thomas-morse aviation engine types aviation engine, wisconsin aviation engines, anzani six-cylinder water-cooled aviation engines, anzani ten- and twenty-cylinder aviation engines, anzani three-cylinder aviation engines, anzani y type aviation engines, argus aviation engines, austro-daimler aviation engines, benz aviation engines, four- and six-cylinder aviation engines, german aviation engines, hall-scott aviation engines, hispano-suiza aviation engines, mercedes aviation engines, overhauling aviation engines, principal parts of aviation engines, starting systems for aviation engines, sunbeam b balanced crank-shafts ball-bearing crank-shafts battery ignition systems baverey compound nozzle bearings, adjustment of bearing alignment bearing brasses, fitting bearing parallelism, testing bearing scrapers and their use benz aviation engines benz engine statistics berling magneto berling magneto, adjustment of berling magneto care berling magneto circuits berling magneto, setting block castings blowing back bolts, screwing down bore and stroke ratio boyle's law brayton engine breaker box, adjustment of breast and hand drills burning out carbon deposits bushings, cam-shaft, wear in c calipers, inside and outside cam followers, types of cams for valve actuation cam-shaft bushings cam-shaft design cam-shaft drive methods cam-shaft testing cam-shafts and timing gears canton and unné engine carbon, burning out with oxygen carbon deposits, cause of carbon removal carbon scrapers, how used carburetion principles carburetion system troubles carburetor, claudel carburetor, compound nozzle zenith carburetor, concentric float and jet type carburetor, duplex zenith carburetor, duplex zenith, trouble in carburetor installation, in airplanes carburetor, le rhone carburetor, master multiple jet carburetor, schebler carburetor troubles, how to locate carburetor, two stage carburetor, what it should do carburetors, float feed carburetors, multiple nozzle carburetors, notes on adjustment carburetors, reversing position of carburetors, spraying care of dixie magneto castor oil, for cylinder lubrication castor oil, why used in gnome engines center gauge chisels, forms of christensen air starting system circuits, magnetic classification of engines claudel carburetor cleaning distributor clearances between valve stem and actuators combustion chamber design combustion chambers, spherical common tools, outfit of comparing two-cycle and four-cycle types compound cam followers compound piston rings compressed air starting system compression, factors limiting compression, in explosive motors, value of compression pressures, chart for compression temperature computations for horse-power needed computations for temperature concentric piston ring concentric valves connecting rod alignment, testing connecting rod, conventional connecting rod forms connecting rod, gnome engine connecting rods, fitting connecting rods for vee engines connecting rods, le rhone connecting rods, master constant level splash system construction of dixie magneto construction of pistons conversion of heat to power cooling by air cooling by positive water circulation cooling, heat loss in cooling system defects cooling systems used cooling systems, why needed cotter pin pliers crank-case, conventional crank-case forms crank-case, gnome crank-shaft, built up crank-shaft construction crank-shaft design crank-shaft equalizer crank-shaft form crank-shaft, gnome engine crank-shafts, balanced crank-shafts, ball bearing cross level crude petroleum, distillates of curtiss aviation engines curtiss engine installation curtiss engine repairing tools cutting oil grooves cylinder blocks, advantages of cylinder block, duesenberg cylinder castings, individual cylinder construction cylinder faults and correction cylinder form and crank-shaft design cylinder head packings cylinder head, removable cylinder, i head form cylinder, l head form cylinder oils cylinder placing cylinder placing in v motor cylinder retention, gnome cylinder, t head form cylinders, cast in blocks cylinders, odd number in rotary engines cylinders, repairing scored cylinders, valve location in d defects in cylinders defects in dry battery defects in fuel system defects in induction coil defects in magneto defects in storage battery defects in timer defects in wiring and remedies die holder dies for thread cutting diesel motor cards diesel system direct air cooling dirigible balloons dismantling airplane engine distillates of crude petroleum division of circle in degrees dixie ignition magneto dixie magneto, care of draining oil from crank-case drilling machines drills, types and use driving cam-shaft, methods of dry cell battery, defects in duesenberg sixteen valve engine duesenberg valve action duplex zenith carburetor e early gnome motor, construction of early ignition systems early types of gas engine early vaporizer forms eccentric piston ring economy, factors governing efficiency, actual heat efficiency, maximum theoretical efficiency, mechanical efficiency of internal combustion engine efficiency, various measures of eight-cylinder engine eight-cylinder timing diagram electricity and magnetism, relation of electrical ignition best electric starting systems engine, advantages of v type engine base construction engine bearings, adjusting engine bearings, refitting engine bed timbers, standard engine, four-cycle, action of engine, four-cycle, piston movements in engine functions, duration of engine ignition, locating troubles engine installation, gnome engine installation, anzani radial engine installation, hall-scott engine installation, rotary engine operation, sequence of engine parts and functions engine starts hard, ignition troubles causing engine stoppage, causes of engine temperatures engine trouble charts engine troubles, cooling engine troubles, hints for locating engine troubles, ignition engine troubles, noisy operation engine troubles, oiling engine troubles summarized engine, two-cycle, action of engines, classification of engines, cylinder arrangement - engines, eight-cylinder v engines, four-cylinder forms engines, graphic comparison of - - engines, internal combustion, types of engines, multiple cylinder, power delivery in engines, multiple cylinder, why best engines, rotary cylinder engines, six-cylinder forms engines, twelve-cylinder equalizer, crank-shaft exhaust closing exhaust valve design, early gnome exhaust valve opening explosive gases, mixtures of explosive motors, inefficiency in explosive motors, why best f factors governing economy factors limiting compression faults in ignition figuring horse-power needed files, use and care of first law of gases fitting bearings by scraping fitting brasses fitting connecting rods fitting main bearings fitting piston rings float feed carburetor development float feed carburetors force feed oiling system forked connecting rods four-cycle engine, action of four-cycle engine, why best fourteen-cylinder engine four valves per cylinder friction, definition of fuel feed by gravity fuel feed by vacuum tank fuel storage and supply fuel strainers, types of fuel strainers, utility of fuel system faults fuel system installation, hall-scott fuel system, gnome fuel utilization chart g gas engine, beau de rocha's principles gas engine development gas engine, early forms of gas engine, inventors of gas engine, theory of gases, compression of gases, first law of gases, second law of gaskets, how to use gasoline, air needed to burn gas engines, parts of gas vacuum engine, brown's german airplane motors german gnome type engine gnome aviation engine, early form gnome crank-shaft gnome cylinder, machining gnome cylinder retention gnome engine, fuel, lubrication and ignition gnome engine, german type gnome engine installation gnome firing order gnome fourteen-cylinder, engine gnome fourteen-cylinder engine details gnome monosoupape, how to time gnome monosoupape type engine graphic comparison of engine types - - graphic comparison, two- and four-cycle gravity feed system grinding valves h hall-scott aviation engines hall-scott engine installation hall-scott engine, preparations for starting hall-scott engine tools hall-scott lubrication system hall-scott statistic sheet heat and its work heat in gas engine cylinder heat given to cooling water heat loss, causes of heat loss in airplane engine heat loss in wall cooling high altitude, how it affects power high tension magneto hints for locating engine troubles hints for starting engine hispano-suiza model a engine horse-power needed in airplane horse-power needed, how figured how an engine is timed i ignition, electric ignition, elements of ignition of gnome engine ignition system, battery ignition systems, early ignition system faults ignition, time of ignition, two spark i head cylinders improvements in gas engines indicating meters, engine speed indicating meters, oil and air pressure indicator cards, how to read indicator cards, value of individual cylinder castings induction coil, defects in inefficiency, causes of inlet valve closing inlet valve opening installation, airplane engine installation, curtiss ox- engine installation, hall-scott engine installation of rotary engines intake manifold construction intake manifold design internal combustion engine, efficiency of , internal combustion engines, main types of inverted engine placing isothermal diagram isothermal law k keeping oil out of combustion chamber knight sleeve valves l lag and lead, explanation of lapping crank-pins lead given exhaust valve leak proof piston rings lenoir engine action le rhone cams and valve actuation le rhone carburetor le rhone connecting rod assembly, distinctive le rhone engine action le rhone rotary engine l head cylinders liquid fuels, properties of locating carburetor troubles locating engine troubles locating ignition troubles locating oiling troubles location of magneto trouble losses in wall cooling lost power and overheating, summary of troubles causing lubricants, derivation of lubricants, requirements of lubricating system classification lubricating systems, selection of lubrication by constant level splash system lubrication by dry crank-case method lubrication by force feed best lubrication of magneto lubrication system, gnome lubrication system, hall-scott lubrication system, thomas-morse lubrication, theory of lubrication, why necessary m magnetic circuits magnetic influence defined magnetic lines of force magnetic substances magnetism, flow through armature magnetism, fundamentals of magnetism, relation to electricity magneto, action of high tension magneto armature windings magneto, basic principles of magneto, berling magneto, defects in magneto distributor, cleaning magneto ignition systems magneto ignition wiring magneto interrupter, adjustment of magneto, low voltage magneto, lubrication of magneto maintenance magneto, method of driving magneto parts and functions magneto, the dixie magneto timing magneto, timing dixie magneto, transformer system magneto trouble, location of magneto, true high tension magneto, two spark dual magnets, forms of magnets, how produced magnets, properties of main bearings, fitting manifold, intake master multiple jet carburetor master rod construction maximum theoretical efficiency meaning of piston speed measures of efficiency measuring tools mechanical efficiency mercedes aviation engine metering pin carburetor, stewart micrometer caliper, beading micrometer calipers, types and use mixture, effect of altitude on mixture, proportions of mixture, starvation of monosoupape gnome engine mother bod, gnome engine motor misfires, carburetor faults causing motor misfires, ignition troubles causing motor races, carburetor faults causing motor starts hard, carburetor faults causing motor stops in flight, carburetor faults motor stops without warning, ignition troubles multiple cylinder engine, why best multiple nozzle vaporizers multiple valve advantages n noisy engine operation, causes of noisy operation, carburetor faults causing noisy operation, summary of troubles causing o offset cylinders, reason for oil bi-pass, function of oil, draining from crank-case oil grooves, cutting oil pressure in hall-scott system oil pressure relief bi-pass oiling system defects oils for cylinder lubrication oils for hall-scott engine oils for lubrication operating principles of engines oscillating piston pin otto four-cycle cards overhauling aviation engines overhead cam-shaft location overheating, causes of p panhard concentric valves petroleum, distillates of piston, differential piston pin retention piston ring construction piston ring joints piston ring manipulation piston ring troubles piston rings, compound piston rings, concentric piston rings, eccentric piston rings, fitting piston rings, leak proof piston rings, replacing piston speed in airplane engines piston speed, meaning of piston troubles and remedies pistons, aluminum pistons, details of pistons for two-cycle engines positive valve systems power, affected by high altitude power delivery in multiple cylinder engines power, how obtained from heat power needed in airplane engines power used in airplanes precautions in assembling parts pressure relief fitting pressures and temperatures principles of carburetion principles of magneto action properties of cylinder oils properties of liquid fuels pump circulation systems pump forms r radial cylinder arrangement reading indicator cards reamers, types and use reassembling parts, precautions in removable cylinder head renault air cooled engine renault engine details repairing scored cylinders requisites for best power effect reseating and truing valves resistance, influence of rotary cylinder engines rotary engine, le rhone rotary engines, castor oil for rotary engines, installing rotary engines, why odd number of cylinders rotary engines, why odd number of cylinders is used s s. a. e. engine bed dimensions salmson nine-cylinder engine schebler carburetor scissors joint rods scored cylinders, repairing scrapers, types of bearing scraping bearings to fit second law of gases sequence of engine operation six-cylinder timing diagram sixteen valve duesenberg engine skipping or irregular operation, causes of sliding sleeve valves spark plug air gaps, setting spark plug, design of spark plug, mica spark plug, porcelain spark plugs, defects in spark plugs for two spark ignition spark plug, special for airplane engine spark plug, standard s. a. e. spherical combustion chambers splash lubrication split pin remover spraying carburetors springless valves springs, for valves spring winder sprung cam-shaft, testing stand for supporting engine starting engine, hints for starting hall-scott engine starting system, christensen starting systems, compressed air starting systems, electric statistics, american engines , statistic sheet, hall-scott engines statistics of benz engine steam engine, efficiency of steam engine, why not used steel scale, machinists' stewart metering pin carburetor storage battery, defects in stroke and bore ratio sturtevant model a engine summary of engine types sunbeam aviation engines sunbeam eighteen-cylinder engine t tap and die sets taps for thread cutting tee head cylinders temperature computations temperatures and explosive pressures temperatures and pressures temperatures, operating testing bearing parallelism testing connecting rod alignment testing fit of bearings testing sprung cam-shaft theory of gas engine theory of lubrication thermo-syphon cooling system thomas-morse aviation engine thomas-morse lubrication system thread pitch gauge time of ignition timer, defects in times of explosion timing dixie magneto timing gears, effects of wear timing magneto timing valves tool outfits, typical tools for adjusting and erecting tools for bearing work tools for curtiss engines tools for grinding valves tools for hall-scott engines , tools for measuring tools for reseating valves trouble in carburetion system trouble, location of magneto troubles, engine, how to locate troubles, ignition troubles in oiling system true high tension magneto twelve-cylinder engines two-and four-cycle types, comparison of two-cycle engine action two-cycle three-port engine two-cycle two-port engine two-spark ignition two-stage carburetor types of aircraft types of internal combustion engines v vacuum fuel feed, stewart value of compression value of indicator cards valve actuation, le rhone valve design and construction valve-grinding processes valve-lifting cams valve-lifting plungers valve location practice valve operating means valve operating system, depreciation in valve operation valve removal and inspection valve seating, how to test valve springs valve timing, exhaust valve timing, gnome monosoupape valve timing, intake valve timing, lag and lead valve timing procedure valve timing practice valves, electric welded valves, flat and bevel seat valves, four per cylinder valves, how placed in cylinder valves in cages valves in removable heads valves, materials used for valves, reseating vaporizer, simple forms of v engines, cylinder arrangement in vernier, how used w wall cooling, losses in water cooling by natural circulation water cooling system weight of airplane motors wiring, defects in wiring magneto ignition system wisconsin engines wrenches, forms of wrist-pin retention wrist-pin retention locks wrist-pin wear and remedy z zenith carburetor, action of zenith duplex carburetor, troubles in zenith carburetor installation list of illustrations frontispiece. part sectional view of hall-scott airplane motor, showing principal parts. fig. . diagrams illustrating computations for horse-power required for airplane flight. fig. . plate showing heavy, slow speed internal combustion engines used only for stationary power in large installations giving weight to horse-power ratio. fig. . various forms of internal combustion engines showing decrease in weight to horse-power ratio with augmenting speed of rotation. fig. . internal combustion engine types of extremely fine construction and refined design, showing great power outputs for very small weight, a feature very much desired in airplane power plants. fig. . outlining first two strokes of piston in four-cycle engine. fig. . outlining second two strokes of piston in four-cycle engine. fig. . sectional view of l head gasoline engine cylinder showing piston movements during four-stroke cycle. fig. . showing two-port, two-cycle engine operation. fig. . defining three-port, two-cycle engine action. fig. . diagrams contrasting action of two- and four-cycle cylinders on exhaust and intake stroke. fig. . diagram isothermal and adiabatic lines. fig. . graphic diagram showing approximate utilization of fuel burned in internal-combustion engine. fig. . otto four-cycle card. fig. . diesel motor card. fig. . diagram of heat in the gas engine cylinder. fig. . chart showing relation between compression volume and pressure. fig. . the thompson indicator, an instrument for determining compressions and explosion pressure values and recording them on chart. fig. . spherical combustion chamber. fig. . enlarged combustion chamber. fig. . mercedes aviation engine cylinder section showing approximately spherical combustion chamber and concave piston top. fig. . side sectional view of typical airplane engine, showing parts and their relation to each other. this engine is an aeromarine design and utilizes a distinctive concentric valve construction. fig. . diagrams illustrating sequence of cycles in one- and two-cylinder engines showing more uniform turning effort on crank-shaft with two-cylinder motors. fig. . diagrams demonstrating clearly advantages which obtain when multiple-cylinder motors are used as power plants. fig. . showing three possible though unconventional arrangements of four-cylinder engines. fig. . diagrams outlining advantages of multiple cylinder motors, and why they deliver power more evenly than single cylinder types. fig. . diagrams showing duration of events for a four-stroke cycle, six-cylinder engine. fig. . diagram showing actual duration of different strokes in degrees. fig. . another diagram to facilitate understanding sequence of functions in six-cylinder engine. fig. . types of eight-cylinder engines showing the advantage of the v method of cylinder placing. fig. . curves showing torque of various engine types demonstrate graphically marked advantage of the eight-cylinder type. fig. . diagrams showing how increasing number of cylinders makes for more uniform power application. fig. . how the angle between the cylinders of an eight- and twelve-cylinder v motor varies. fig. . the hall-scott four-cylinder horse-power aviation motor. fig. . two views of the duesenberg sixteen valve four-cylinder aviation motor. fig. . the hall-scott six-cylinder aviation engine. fig. . the curtiss eight-cylinder, horse-power aviation engine. fig. . the sturtevant eight-cylinder, high speed aviation motor. fig. . anzani - horse-power five-cylinder air cooled engine. fig. . unconventional six-cylinder aircraft motor of masson design. fig. . the gnome fourteen-cylinder revolving motor. fig. . how gravity feed fuel tank may be mounted back of engine and secure short fuel line. fig. . the stewart vacuum fuel feed tank. fig. . marine-type mixing valve, by which gasoline is sprayed into air stream through small opening in air-valve seat. fig. . tracing evolution of modern spray carburetor. a--early form evolved by maybach. b.--phoenix-daimler modification of maybach's principle. c--modern concentric float automatic compensating carburetor. fig. . new model of schebler carburetor with metering valve and extended venturi. note mechanical connection between air valve and fuel regulating needle. fig. . the claudel carburetor. fig. . the stewart metering pin carburetor. fig. . the ball and ball two-stage carburetor. fig. . the master carburetor. fig. . sectional view of master carburetor showing parts. fig. . sectional view of zenith compound nozzle compensating carburetor. fig. . diagrams explaining action of baverey compound nozzle used in zenith carburetor. fig. . the zenith duplex carburetor for airplane motors of the v type. fig. . rear view of curtiss ox- horse-power airplane motor showing carburetor location and hot air leads. fig. . types of strainers interposed between vaporizer and gasoline tank to prevent water or dirt passing into carbureting device. fig. . chart showing diminution of air pressure as altitude increases. fig. . some simple experiments to demonstrate various magnetic phenomena and clearly outline effects of magnetism and various forms of magnets. fig. . elementary form of magneto showing principal parts simplified to make method of current generation clear. fig. . showing how strength of magnetic influence and of the currents induced in the windings of armature vary with the rapidity of changes of flow. fig. . diagrams explaining action of low tension transformer coil and true high tension magneto ignition systems. fig. a. side sectional view of bosch high-tension magneto shows disposition of parts. end elevation depicts arrangement of interruptor and distributor mechanism. fig. . berling two-spark dual ignition system. fig. . berling double-spark independent system. fig. . type dd berling high tension magneto. fig. . wiring diagrams of berling magneto ignition systems. fig. . the berling magneto breaker box showing contact points separated and interruptor lever on cam. fig. . the dixie model for six-cylinder airplane engine ignition. fig. . installation dimensions of dixie model magneto. fig. . the rotating elements of the dixie magneto. fig. . suggestions for adjusting and dismantling dixie magneto. a--screw driver adjusts contact points. b--distributor block removed. c--taking off magnets. d--showing how easily condenser and high tension windings are removed. fig. a. sectional views outlining construction of dixie magneto with compound distributor for eight-cylinder engine ignition. fig. . wiring diagram of dixie magneto installation on hall-scott six-cylinder horse-power aeronautic motor. fig. . how magneto ignition is installed on thomas-morse horse-power motor. fig. . spark-plug types showing construction and arrangement of parts. fig. . standard airplane engine plug suggested by s. a. e. standards committee. fig. . special mica plug for aviation engines. fig. . showing use of magnifying glass to demonstrate that apparently smooth metal surfaces may have minute irregularities which produce friction. fig. . pressure feed oiling system of thomas aviation engine includes oil cooling means. fig. . diagram of oiling system, hall-scott type a horse-power engine. fig. . sectional view of typical motor showing parts needing lubrication and method of applying oil by constant level splash system. note also water jacket and spaces for water circulation. fig. . pressure feed oil-supply system of airplane power plants has many good features. fig. . why pressure feed system is best for eight-cylinder vee airplane engines. fig. . operating temperatures of automobile engine parts useful as a guide to understand airplane power plant heat. fig. . water cooling of salmson seven-cylinder radial airplane engine. fig. . how water cooling system of thomas airplane engine is installed in fuselage. fig. . finned tube radiators at the side of hall-scott airplane power plant installed in standard fuselage. fig. . anzani testing his five-cylinder air cooled aviation motor installed in bleriot monoplane. note exposure of flanged cylinders to propeller slip stream. fig. . views of four-cylinder duesenberg airplane engine cylinder block. fig. . twin-cylinder block of sturtevant airplane engine is cast of aluminum, and has removable cylinder head. fig. . aluminum cylinder pair casting of thomas horse-power airplane engine is of the l head type. fig. . cross section of austro-daimler engine, showing offset cylinder construction. note applied water jacket and peculiar valve action. fig. . diagrams demonstrating advantages of offset crank-shaft construction. fig. . diagram showing forms of cylinder demanded by different valve placings. a--t head type, valves on opposite sides. b--l head cylinder, valves side by side. c--l head cylinder, one valve in head, other in pocket. d--inlet valve over exhaust member, both in side pocket. e--valve-in-the-head type with vertical valves. f--inclined valves placed to open directly into combustion chamber. fig. . sectional view of engine cylinder showing valve and cage installation. fig. . diagrams showing how gas enters cylinder through overhead valves and other types. a--tee head cylinder. b--l head cylinder. c--overhead valve. fig. . conventional methods of operating internal combustion motor valves. fig. . examples of direct valve actuation by overhead cam-shaft. a--mercedes. b--hall-scott. c--wisconsin. fig. . censored fig. . censored fig. . sectional views showing arrangement of novel concentric valve arrangement devised by panhard for aerial engines. fig. . showing clearance allowed between valve stem and valve stem guide to secure free action. fig. . forms of valve-lifting cams generally employed. a--cam profile for long dwell and quick lift. b--typical inlet cam used with mushroom type follower. c--average form of cam. d--designed to give quick lift and gradual closing. fig. . showing principal types of cam followers which have received general application. fig. . diagram showing proper clearance to allow between adjusting screw and valve stems in hall-scott aviation engines. fig. . cam-shaft of thomas airplane motor has cams forged integral. note split cam-shaft bearings and method of gear retention. fig. . section through cylinder of knight motor, showing important parts of valve motion. fig. . diagrams showing knight sleeve valve action. fig. . cross sectional view of knight type eight cylinder v engine. fig. . diagrams explaining valve and ignition timing of hall-scott aviation engine. fig. . timing diagram of typical six-cylinder engine. fig. . timing diagram of typical eight-cylinder v engine. fig. . timing diagram showing peculiar valve timing of gnome "monosoupape" rotary motor. fig. . two methods of operating valves by positive cam mechanism which closes as well as opens them. fig. . diagram comparing two large valves and four small ones of practically the same area. note how easily small valves are installed to open directly into the cylinder. fig. . sectional views of sixteen-valve four-cylinder automobile racing engine that may have possibilities for aviation service. fig. . front view of curtiss ox- aviation motor, showing unconventional valve action by concentric push rod and pull tube. fig. . forms of pistons commonly employed in gasoline engines. a--dome head piston and three packing rings. b--flat top form almost universally used. c--concave piston utilized in knight motors and some having overhead valves. d--two-cycle engine member with deflector plate cast integrally. e--differential of two-diameter piston used in some engines operating on two-cycle principle. fig. . typical methods of piston pin retention generally used in engines of american design. a--single set screw and lock nut. b--set screw and check nut fitting groove in wrist pin. c, d--two locking screws passing into interior of hollow wrist pin. e--split ring holds pin in place. f--use of taper expanding plugs outlined. g--spring pressed plunger type. h--piston pin pinned to connecting rod. i--wrist pin clamped in connecting rod small end by bolt. fig. . typical piston and connecting rod assembly. fig. . parts of sturtevant aviation engine. a--cylinder head showing valves. b--connecting rod. c--piston and rings. fig. . aluminum piston and light but strong steel connecting rod and wrist pin of thomas aviation engine. fig. . cast iron piston of "monosoupape" gnome engine installed on one of the short connecting rods. fig. . types of aluminum pistons used in aviation engines. fig. . types of piston rings and ring joints. a--concentric ring. b--eccentrically machined form. c--lap joint ring. d--butt joint, seldom used. e--diagonal cut member, a popular form. fig. . diagrams showing advantages of concentric piston rings. fig. . leak-proof and other compound piston rings. fig. . sectional view of engine showing means of preventing oil leakage by piston rings. fig. . connecting rod and crank-shaft construction of gnome "monosoupape" engine. fig. . connecting rod types summarized. a--single connecting rod made in one piece, usually fitted in small single-cylinder engines having built-up crank-shafts. b--marine type, a popular form on heavy engines. c--conventional automobile type, a modified marine form. d--type having hinged lower cap and split wrist pin bushing. e--connecting rod having diagonally divided big end. f--ball-bearing rod. g--sections showing structural shapes commonly employed in connecting rod construction. fig. . double connecting rod assembly for use on single crank-pin of vee engine. fig. . another type of double connecting rod for vee engines. fig. . part sectional view of wisconsin aviation engine, showing four-bearing crank-shaft, overhead cam-shaft, and method of combining cylinders in pairs. fig. . part sectional view of renault twelve-cylinder water-cooled engine, showing connecting rod construction and other important internal parts. fig. . typical cam-shaft, with valve lifting cams and gears to operate auxiliary devices forged integrally. fig. . important parts of duesenberg aviation engine. a--three main bearing crank-shaft. b--cam-shaft with integral cams. c--piston and connecting rod assembly. d--valve rocker group. e--piston. f--main bearing brasses. fig. . showing method of making crank-shaft. a--the rough steel forging before machining. b--the finished six-throw, seven-bearing crank-shaft. fig. . showing form of crank-shaft for twin-cylinder opposed power plant. fig. . crank-shaft of thomas-morse eight-cylinder vee engine. fig. . crank-case and crank-shaft construction for twelve-cylinder motors. a--duesenberg. b--curtiss. fig. . counterbalanced crank-shafts reduce engine vibration and permit of higher rotative speeds. fig. . view of thomas horse-power aeromotor, model , showing conventional method of crank-case construction. fig. . views of upper half of thomas aeromotor crank-case. fig. . method of constructing eight-cylinder vee engine, possible if aluminum cylinder and crank-case castings are used. fig. . simple and compact crank-case, possible when radial cylinder engine design is followed. fig. . unconventional mounting of german inverted cylinder motor. fig. . how curtiss model ox- motor is installed in fuselage of curtiss tractor biplane. note similarity of mounting to automobile power plant. fig. . latest model of curtiss jn- training machine, showing thorough enclosure of power plant and method of disposing of the exhaust gases. fig. . front view of l. w. f. tractor biplane fuselage, showing method of installing thomas aeromotor and method of disposing of exhaust gases. fig. . end elevation of hall-scott a- four-cylinder motor, with installation dimensions. fig. . plan and side elevation of hall-scott a- four-cylinder airplane engine, with installation dimensions. fig. . censored fig. . censored fig. . censored fig. . plan view of hall-scott type a- horse-power airplane engine, showing installation dimensions. fig. . three-quarter view of hall-scott type a- horse-power six-cylinder engine, with one of the side radiators removed to show installation in standard fuselage. fig. . diagram showing proper installation of hall-scott type a- horse-power engine with pressure feed fuel supply system. fig. . diagram defining installation of gnome "monosoupape" motor in tractor biplane. note necessary piping for fuel, oil, and air lines. fig. . showing two methods of placing propeller on gnome rotary motor. fig. . how gnome rotary motor may be attached to airplane fuselage members. fig. . how anzani ten-cylinder radial engine is installed to plate securely attached to front end of tractor airplane fuselage. fig. . side elevation of thomas horse-power airplane engine, giving important dimensions. fig. . front elevation of thomas-morse horse-power aeromotor, showing main dimensions. fig. . front and side elevations of sturtevant airplane engine, giving principal dimensions to facilitate installation. fig. . practical hand tools useful in dismantling and repairing airplane engines. fig. . wrenches are offered in many forms. fig. . illustrating use and care of files. fig. . outlining use of cotter pin pliers, spring winder, and showing practical outfit of chisels. fig. . forms of hand operated drilling machines. fig. . forms of drills used in hand and power drilling machines. fig. . useful set of number drills, showing stand for keeping these in an orderly manner. fig. . illustrating standard forms of hand and machine reamers. fig. . tools for thread cutting. fig. . showing holder designs for one- and two-piece thread cutting dies. fig. . useful outfit of taps and dies for the engine repair shop. fig. . common forms of inside and outside calipers. fig. . measuring appliances for the machinist and floor man. fig. . at left, special form of vernier caliper for measuring gear teeth; at right, micrometer for accurate internal measurements. fig. . measuring appliances of value in airplane repair work. fig. . standard forms of micrometer caliper for external measurements. fig. . special tools for maintaining curtiss ox- motor used in curtiss jn- training biplane. fig. . special tools and appliances to facilitate overhauling work on hall-scott airplane engines. fig. . special stand to make motor overhauling work easier. fig. . showing where carbon deposits collect in engine combustion chamber, and how to burn them out with the aid of oxygen. a--special torch. b--torch coupled to oxygen tank. c--torch in use. fig. / . part sectional view, showing valve arrangement in cylinder of curtiss ox- aviation engine. fig. . tools for restoring valve head and seats. fig. . tools and processes utilized in valve grinding. fig. . outlining points in valve operating mechanism where depreciation is apt to exist. fig. . method of removing piston rings, and simple clamp to facilitate insertion of rings in cylinder. fig. . tools and processes used in refitting engine bearings. fig. . showing points to observe when fitting connecting rod brasses. fig. . methods of testing to insure parallelism of bearings after fitting. fig. . views outlining construction of three-cylinder anzani aviation motor. fig. a. illustrations depicting wrong and right methods of "swinging the stick" to start airplane engine. at top, poor position to get full throw and get out of the way. below, correct position to get quick turn over of crank-shaft and spring away from propeller. fig. . the anzani six-cylinder water-cooled aviation engine. fig. . sectional view of anzani six-cylinder water-cooled aviation engine. fig. . three-cylinder anzani air-cooled y-form engine. fig. . anzani fixed crank-case engine of the six-cylinder form utilizes air cooling successfully. fig. . sectional view showing internal parts of six-cylinder anzani engine, with starwise disposition of cylinders. fig. . the anzani ten-cylinder aviation engine at the left, and the twenty-cylinder fixed type at the right. fig. . application of r. e. p. five-cylinder fan-shape air-cooled motor to early monoplane. fig. . the canton and unné nine-cylinder water-cooled radial engine. fig. . sectional view showing construction of canton and unné water-cooled radial cylinder engine. fig. . sectional view outlining construction of early type gnome valve-in-piston type motor. fig. . sectional view of early type gnome cylinder and piston showing construction and application of inlet and exhaust valves. fig. . details of old style gnome motor inlet and exhaust valve construction and operation. fig. . the gnome fourteen-cylinder horse-power aviation engine. fig. . cam and cam-gear case of the gnome seven-cylinder revolving engine. fig. . diagrams showing why an odd number of cylinders is best for rotary cylinder motors. fig. . simple carburetor used on early gnome engines attached to fixed crank-shaft end. fig. . sectional views of the gnome oil pump. fig. . simplified diagram showing gnome motor magneto ignition system. fig. . the g. v. gnome "monosoupape" nine-cylinder rotary engine mounted on testing stand. fig. . sectional view showing construction of general vehicle co. "monosoupape" gnome engine. fig. . how a gnome cylinder is reduced from solid chunk of steel weighing pounds to finished cylinder weighing / pounds. fig. . the gnome engine cam-gear case, a fine example of accurate machine work. fig. . g. v. gnome "monosoupape," with cam-case cover removed to show cams and valve-operating plungers with roller cam followers. fig. . the horse-power rotary bayerischen motoren gesellschaft engine, a german adaptation of the early gnome design. fig. . nine-cylinder revolving le rhone type aviation engine. fig. . part sectional views of le rhone rotary cylinder engine, showing method of cylinder retention, valve operation and novel crank disc assembly. fig. . side sectional view of le rhone aviation engine. fig. . view showing le rhone valve action and connecting rod big end arrangement. fig. . diagrams showing important components of le rhone motor. fig. . how the cams of the le rhone motor can operate two valves with a single push rod. fig. . the le rhone carburetor at a and fuel supply regulating device at b. fig. . diagrams showing le rhone motor action and firing order. fig. . diagram showing positions of piston in le rhone rotary cylinder motor. fig. . diagrams showing valve timing of le rhone aviation engine. fig. . diagrams showing how cylinder cooling is effected in renault vee engines. fig. . end sectional view of renault air-cooled aviation engine. fig. . side sectional view of renault twelve-cylinder air-cooled aviation engine crank-case, showing use of plain and ball bearings for crank-shaft support. fig. . end view of renault twelve-cylinder engine crank-case, showing magneto mounting. fig. . diagram outlining renault twelve-cylinder engine ignition system. fig. . the simplex model a hispano-suiza aviation engine, a very successful form. fig. . the curtiss oxx- aviation engine is an eight-cylinder type largely used on training machines. fig. . top and bottom views of the curtiss oxx- horse-power aviation engine. fig. . end view of thomas-morse horse-power aluminum cylinder aviation motor having detachable cylinder heads. fig. . side view of thomas-morse high speed horse-power aviation motor with geared down propeller drive. fig. . the reduction gear-case of thomas-morse horse-power aviation motor, showing ball bearing and propeller drive shaft gear. fig. . the six-cylinder aeromarine engine. fig. . the wisconsin aviation engine, at top, as viewed from carburetor side. below, the exhaust side. fig. . dimensioned end elevation of wisconsin six motor. fig. . dimensioned side elevation of wisconsin six motor. fig. . power, torque and efficiency curves of wisconsin aviation motor. fig. . timing diagram, wisconsin aviation engine. fig. . dimensioned end view of wisconsin twelve-cylinder airplane motor. fig. . dimensioned side elevation of wisconsin twelve-cylinder airplane motor. fig. . side and end sectional views of four-cylinder argus engine, a german horse-power design having bore and stroke of mm., or . inches, and developing its power at , r.p.m. weight, pounds. fig. . part sectional view of horse-power mercedes engine, which is typical of the design of larger sizes. fig. . part sectional side view and sectional end view of benz horse-power aviation engine. fig. . at top, the sunbeam overhead valve horse-power six-cylinder engine. below, side view of sunbeam horse-power twelve-cylinder vee engine. fig. . side view of eighteen-cylinder sunbeam coatalen aircraft engine rated at b.h.p. fig. . sunbeam eighteen-cylinder motor, viewed from pump and magneto end. fig. . propeller end of sunbeam eighteen-cylinder b.h.p. aviation engine. fig. . view of airplane cowl board, showing the various navigating and indicating instruments to aid the aviator in flight. fig. . parts of christensen air starting system shown at a, and application of piping and check valves to cylinders of thomas-morse aeromotor outlined at b. fig. . diagrams showing installation of air starting system on thomas-morse 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refrigeration repairing automobiles rope work rubber rubber stamps saw filing saws, management of sheet-metal works , shop construction shop management shop practice shop tools sketching paper soldering splices and rope work steam engineering , steam heating , steel storage batteries submarine chart switchboards , tapers telegraphy, wireless telephone thread cutting tool making toy making train rules tractive power chart tractor, gas turbines vacuum heating valve setting ventilation watch making waterproofing welding with oxy-acetylene flame , wireless telegraphy wiring , wiring diagrams any of these books promptly sent prepaid to any address in the world on receipt of price. =how to remit=--by postal money order, express money order, bank draft or registered letter. ~automobiles and motorcycles~ =the modern gasoline automobile--its design, construction, and operation, edition.= by victor w. pagÉ, m.s.a.e. this is the most complete, practical and up-to-date treatise on gasoline automobiles and their component parts ever published. in the new _revised_ and _enlarged_ _edition_, all phases of automobile construction, operation and maintenance are fully and completely described, and in language anyone can understand. every part of all types of automobiles, from light cycle-cars to heavy motor trucks and tractors, are described in a thorough manner, not only the automobile, but every item of it; equipment, accessories, tools needed, supplies and spare parts necessary for its upkeep, are fully discussed. _it is clearly and concisely written by an expert familiar with every branch of the automobile industry and the originator of the practical system of self-education on technical subjects. it is a liberal education in the automobile art, useful to all who motor for either business or pleasure._ anyone reading the incomparable treatise is in touch with all improvements that have been made in motor-car construction. all latest developments, such as high speed aluminum motors and multiple valve and sleeve-valve engines, are considered in detail. the latest ignition, carburetor and lubrication practice is outlined. new forms of change speed gears, and final power transmission systems, and all latest chassis improvements are shown and described. this book is used in all leading automobile schools and is conceded to be the standard treatise. the chapter on starting and lighting systems has been greatly enlarged, and many automobile engineering features that have long puzzled laymen are explained so clearly that the underlying principles can be understood by anyone. this book was first published six years ago and so much new matter has been added that it is nearly twice, its original size. the only treatise covering various forms of war automobiles and recent developments in motor-truck design as well as pleasure cars. _this book is not too technical for the layman nor too elementary for the more expert. it is an incomparable work of reference, for home or school_. , x pages, nearly , illustrations, folding plates. cloth bound. price =$ . = what is said of this book: "it is the best book on the automobile seen up to date."--j. h. pile, associate editor _automobile trade journal_. "every automobile owner has use for a book of this character."--_the tradesman_. "this book is superior to any treatise heretofore published on the subject."--_the inventive age_. "we know of no other volume that is so complete in all its departments, and in which the wide field of automobile construction with its mechanical intricacies is so plainly handled, both in the text and in the matter of illustrations."--_the motorist_. "the book is very thorough, a careful examination failing to disclose any point in connection with the automobile, its care and repair, to have been overlooked."--_iron age_. "mr. pagé has done a great work, and benefit to the automobile field."--w. c. hasford, mgr. y. m. c. a. automobile school, boston, mass. "it is just the kind of a book a motorist needs if he wants to understand his car."--_american thresherman_. =the model t ford car, its construction, operation and repair.= by victor w. pagÉ, m.s.a.e. this is a complete instruction book. all parts of the ford model t car are described and illustrated; the construction is fully described and operating principles made clear to everyone. every ford owner needs this practical book. you don't have to guess about the construction or where the trouble is, as it shows how to take all parts apart and how to locate and fix all faults. the writer, mr. pagé, has operated a ford car for many years and writes from actual knowledge. among the contents are: . the ford car: its parts and their functions. . the engine and auxiliary groups. how the engine works--the fuel supply system--the carburetor--making the ignition spark--cooling and lubrication. . details of chassis. change speed gear--power transmission--differential gear action--steering gear--front axle--frame and springs--brakes. . how to drive and care for the ford. the control system explained--starting the motor--driving the car--locating roadside troubles--tire repairs--oiling the chassis--winter care of car. . systematic location of troubles and remedies. faults in engine--faults in carburetor--ignition troubles--cooling and lubrication system defects--adjustment of transmission gear--general chassis repairs. illustrations, pages, large folding plates. price =$ . = =how to run an automobile.= by victor w. pagÉ, m.s.a.e. this treatise gives concise instructions for starting and running all makes of gasoline automobiles, how to care for them, and gives distinctive features of control. describes every step for shifting gears, controlling engines, etc. among the chapters contained are: i.--automobile parts and their functions. ii.--general starting and driving instructions. iii.--typical control systems. iv.--care of automobiles. pages. specially made illustrations. price =$ . = =automobile repairing made easy.= by victor w. pagÉ, m.s.a.e. a comprehensive, practical exposition of every phase of modern automobile repairing practice. outlines every process incidental to motor car restoration. gives plans for workshop construction, suggestions for equipment, power needed, machinery and tools necessary to carry on business successfully. tells how to overhaul and repair all parts of all automobiles. everything is explained so simply that motorists and students can acquire a full working knowledge of automobile repairing. this work starts with the engine, then considers carburetion, ignition, cooling and lubrication systems. the clutch, change speed gearing and transmission system are considered in detail. contains instructions for repairing all types of axles, steering gears and other chassis parts. many tables, short cuts in figuring and rules of practice are given for the mechanic. explains fully valve and magneto timing, "tuning" engines, systematic location of trouble, repair of ball and roller bearings, shop kinks, first aid to injured and a multitude of subjects of interest to all in the garage and repair business. _this book contains special instructions on electric starting_, _lighting and ignition systems_, tire _repairing and rebuilding_, _autogenous welding_, _brazing and soldering_, _heat treatment of steel_, _latest timing practice_, _eight and twelve-cylinder motors_, _etc._ - / x . cloth. , pages, , illustrations, folding plates. price =$ . = what is said of this book: "'automobile repairing made easy' is the best book on the subject i have ever seen and the only book i ever saw that is of any value in a garage."--fred jeffrey, martinsburg, neb. "i wish to thank you for sending me a copy of 'automobile repairing made easy.' i do not think it could be excelled."--s. w. gisriel, director of instruction, y. m. c. a., philadelphia, pa. =questions and answers relating to modern automobile construction, driving and repair.= by victor w. pagÉ, m.s.a.e. a practical self-instructor for students, mechanics and motorists, consisting of thirty-seven lessons in the form of questions and answers, written with special reference to the requirements of the non-technical reader desiring easily understood, explanatory matter relating to all branches of automobiling. the subject-matter is absolutely correct and explained in simple language. if you can't answer all of the following questions, you need this work. the answers to these and over , more are to be found in its pages. give the name of all important parts of an automobile and describe their functions. describe action of latest types of kerosene carburetors. what is the difference between a "double" ignition system and a "dual" ignition system? name parts of an induction coil. how are valves timed? what is an electric motor starter and how does it work? what are advantages of worm drive gearing? name all important types of ball and roller bearings. what is a "three-quarter" floating axle? what is a two-speed axle? what is the vulcan electric gear shift? name the causes of lost power in automobiles. describe all noises due to deranged mechanism and give causes? how can you adjust a carburetor by the color of the exhaust gases? what causes "popping" in the carburetor? what tools and supplies are needed to equip a car? how do you drive various makes of cars? what is a differential lock and where is it used? name different systems of wire wheel construction, etc., etc. a popular work at a popular price. - / x - / . cloth. pages, illustrations, folding plates. price =$ . = what is said of this book: "if you own a car--get this book."--_the glassworker_. "mr. page has the faculty of making difficult subjects plain and understandable."--_bristol press_. "we can name no writer better qualified to prepare a book of instruction on automobiles than mr. victor w. pagé."--_scientific american_. "the best automobile catechism that has appeared."--_automobile topics_. "there are few men, even with long experience, who will not find this book useful. great pains have been taken to make it accurate. special recommendation must be given to the illustrations, which have been made specially for the work. such excellent books as this greatly assist in fully understanding your automobile."--_engineering news_. =the automobilist's pocket companion and expense record.= arranged by victor w. pagÉ, m.s.a.e. this book is not only valuable as a convenient cost record but contains much information of value to motorists. includes a condensed digest of auto laws of all states, a lubrication schedule, hints for care of storage battery and care of tires, location of road troubles, anti-freezing solutions, horse-power table, driving hints and many useful tables and recipes of interest to all motorists. not a technical book in any sense of the word, just a collection of practical facts in simple language for the everyday motorist. price =$ . = =modern starting, lighting and ignition systems.= by victor w. pagÉ, m.e. this practical volume has been written with special reference to the requirements of the non-technical reader desiring easily understood, explanatory matter, relating to all types of automobile ignition, starting and lighting systems. it can be understood by anyone, even without electrical knowledge, because elementary electrical principles are considered before any attempt is made to discuss features of the various systems. these basic principles are clearly stated and illustrated with simple diagrams. _all the leading systems of starting, lighting and ignition have been described and illustrated with the co-operation of the experts employed by the manufacturers._ wiring diagrams are shown in both technical and non-technical forms. all symbols are fully explained. it is a comprehensive review of modern starting and ignition system practice, and includes a complete exposition of storage battery construction, care and repair. all types of starting motors, generators, magnetos, and all ignition or lighting system-units are fully explained. _every person in the automobile business needs this volume._ among some of the subjects treated are: i.--elementary electricity; current production; flow; circuits; measurements; definitions; magnetism; battery action; generator action. ii.--battery ignition systems. iii.--magneto ignition systems. iv.--elementary exposition of starting system principles. v.--typical starting and lighting systems; practical application; wiring diagrams; auto-lite, bijur, delco, dyneto-entz, gray and davis, remy, u. s. l., westinghouse, bosch-rushmore, genemotor, north-east, etc. vi.--locating and repairing troubles in starting and lighting systems. vii.--auxiliary. electric systems; gear-shifting by electricity; warning signals; electric brake; entz-transmission, wagner-saxon circuits, wagner-studebaker circuits. - / x - / . cloth. pages, illustrations, folding plates. price =$ . = =automobile welding with the oxy-acetylene flame.= by m. keith dunham. this is the only complete book on the "why" and "how" of welding with the oxy-acetylene flame, and from its pages one can gain information so that he can weld anything that comes along. no one can afford to be without this concise book, as it first explains the apparatus to be used, and then covers in detail the actual welding of all automobile parts. the welding of aluminum, cast iron, steel, copper, brass and malleable iron is clearly explained, as well as the proper way to burn the carbon out of the combustion head of the motor. among the contents are: chapter i.--apparatus knowledge. chapter ii.--shop equipment and initial procedure. chapter iii.--cast iron. chapter iv.--aluminum. chapter v.--steel. chapter vi.--malleable iron, copper, brass, bronze. chapter vii.--carbon burning and other uses of oxygen and acetylene. chapter viii.--how to figure cost of welding. pages, fully illustrated. price =$ . = =storage batteries simplified.= by victor w. pagÉ, m.s.a.e. a comprehensive treatise devoted entirely to secondary batteries and their maintenance, repair and use. this is the most up-to-date book on this subject. describes fully the exide, edison, gould, willard, u. s. l. and other storage battery forms in the types best suited for automobile, stationary and marine work. nothing of importance has been omitted that the reader should know about the practical operation and care of storage batteries. no details have been slighted. the instructions for charging and care have been made as simple as possible. brief synopsis of chapters: chapter i.--storage battery development; types of storage batteries; lead plate types; the edison cell. chapter ii.--storage battery construction; plates and girds; planté plates; fauré plates; non-lead plates; commercial battery designs. chapter iii.--charging methods; rectifiers; converters; rheostats; rules for charging. chapter iv.--battery repairs and maintenance. chapter v.--industrial application of storage batteries; glossary of storage battery terms. pages. very fully illustrated. price =$ . net=. =motorcycles, side cars and cyclecars; their construction, management and repair.= by victor w. pagÉ, m.s.a.e. the only complete work published for the motorcyclist and cyclecarist. describes fully all leading types of machines, their design, construction, maintenance, operation and repair. this treatise outlines fully the operation of two- and four-cycle power plants and all ignition, carburetion and lubrication systems in detail. describes all representative types of free engine clutches, variable speed gears and power transmission systems. gives complete instructions for operating and repairing all types. considers fully electric self-starting and lighting systems, all types of spring frames and spring forks and shows leading control methods. for those desiring technical information a complete series of tables and many formulæ to assist in designing are included. the work tells how to figure power needed to climb grades, overcome air resistance and attain high speeds. it shows how to select gear ratios for various weights and powers, how to figure braking efficiency required, gives sizes of belts and chains to transmit power safely, and shows how to design sprockets, belt pulleys, etc. this work also includes complete formulæ for figuring horse-power, shows how dynamometer tests are made, defines relative efficiency of air and water-cooled engines, plain and anti-friction bearings and many other data of a practical, helpful, engineering nature. remember that you get this information in addition to the practical description and instructions which alone are worth several times the price of the book. pages. specially made illustrations, folding plates. cloth. price =$ . = what is said of this book: "here is a book that should be in the cycle repairer's kit."--_american blacksmith._ "the best way for any rider to thoroughly understand his machine, is to get a copy of this book; it is worth many times its price."--_pacific motorcyclist._ ~automobile and motorcycle charts~ =chart. location of gasoline engine troubles made easy--a chart showing sectional view of gasoline engine.= compiled by victor w. pagÉ, m.s.a.e. it shows clearly all parts of a typical four-cylinder gasoline engine of the four-cycle type. it outlines distinctly all parts liable to give trouble and also details the derangements apt to interfere with smooth engine operation. valuable to students, motorists, mechanics, repairmen, garagemen, automobile salesmen, chauffeurs, motorboat owners, motor-truck and tractor drivers, aviators, motor-cyclists, and all others who have to do with gasoline power plants. it simplifies location of all engine troubles, and while it will prove invaluable to the novice, it can be used to advantage by the more expert. it should be on the walls of every public and private garage, automobile repair shop, club house or school. it can be carried in the automobile or pocket with ease, and will insure against loss of time when engine trouble manifests itself. this sectional view of engine is a complete review of all motor troubles. it is prepared by a practical motorist for all who motor. more information for the money than ever before offered. no details omitted. size x inches. securely mailed on receipt of = cents= =chart. location of ford engine troubles made easy.= compiled by victor w. pagÉ, m.s.a.e. this shows clear sectional views depicting all portions of the ford power plant and auxiliary groups. it outlines clearly all parts of the engine, fuel supply system, ignition group and cooling system, that are apt to give trouble, detailing all derangements that are liable to make an engine lose power, start hard or work irregularly. this chart is valuable to students, owners, and drivers, as it simplifies location of all engine faults. of great advantage as an instructor for the novice, it can be used equally well by the more expert as a work of reference and review. it can be carried in the tool-box or pocket with ease and will save its cost in labor eliminated the first time engine trouble manifests itself. prepared with special reference to the average man's needs and is a practical review of all motor troubles because it is based on the actual experience of an automobile engineer-mechanic with the mechanism the chart describes. it enables the non-technical owner or operator of a ford car to locate engine derangements by systematic search, guided by easily recognized symptoms instead of by guesswork. it makes the average owner independent of the roadside repair shop when touring. must be seen to be appreciated. size x inches. printed on heavy bond paper. price = cents= =chart. lubrication of the motor car chassis.= compiled by victor w. pagÉ, m.s.a.e. this chart presents the plan view of a typical six-cylinder chassis of standard design and all parts are clearly indicated that demand oil, also the frequency with which they must be lubricated and the kind of oil to use. a practical chart for all interested in motor-car maintenance. size x inches. price = cents= =chart. location of carburetion troubles made easy.= compiled by victor w. pagÉ, m.s.a.e. this chart shows all parts of a typical pressure feed fuel supply system and gives causes of trouble, how to locate defects and means of remedying them. size x inches. price = cents= =chart. location of ignition system troubles made easy.= compiled by victor w. pagÉ, m.s.a.e. in this diagram all parts of a typical double ignition system using battery and magneto current are shown, and suggestions are given for readily finding ignition troubles and eliminating them when found. size x inches. price = cents= =chart. location of cooling and lubrication system faults.= compiled by victor w. pagÉ, m.s.a.e. this composite diagram shows a typical automobile power plant using pump circulated water-cooling system and the most popular lubrication method. gives suggestions for curing all overheating and loss of power faults due to faulty action of the oiling or cooling group. size x inches. price = cents= =chart. motorcycle troubles made easy.= compiled by victor w pagÉ, m.s.a.e. a chart showing sectional view of a single-cylinder gasoline engine. this chart simplifies location of all power-plant troubles. a single-cylinder motor is shown for simplicity. it outlines distinctly all parts liable to give trouble and also details the derangements apt to interfere with smooth engine operation. this chart will prove of value to all who have to do with the operation, repair or sale of motorcycles. no details omitted. size x inches price = cents= ~aviation~ =aviation engines, their design, construction, operation and repair.= by lieut. victor w. pagÉ, aviation section, s.c.u.s.r. a practical work containing valuable instructions for aviation students, mechanicians, squadron engineering officers and all interested in the construction and upkeep of airplane power plants. the rapidly increasing interest in the study of aviation, and especially of the highly developed internal combustion engines that make mechanical flight possible, has created a demand for a text-book suitable for schools and home study that will clearly and concisely explain the workings of the various aircraft engines of foreign and domestic manufacture. this treatise, written by a recognized authority on all of the practical aspects of internal combustion engine construction, maintenance and repair fills the need as no other book does. the matter is logically arranged; all descriptive matter is simply expressed and copiously illustrated so that anyone can understand airplane engine operation and repair even if without previous mechanical training. this work is invaluable for anyone desiring to become an aviator or aviation mechanician. the latest rotary types, such as the gnome, monosoupape, and le rhone, are fully explained, as well as the recently developed vee and radial types. the subjects of carburetion, ignition, cooling and lubrication also are covered in a thorough manner. the chapters on repair and maintenance are distinctive and found in no other book on this subject. invaluable to the student, mechanic and soldier wishing to enter the aviation service. not a technical book, but a practical, easily understood work of reference for all interested in aeronautical science. octavo pages. specially made engravings. price =$ . net= ~glossary of aviation terms~ =termes d'aviation, english-french, french-english.= compiled by lieuts. victor w. pagÉ, a.s., s.c.u.s.r., and paul montariol of the french flying corps, on duty on signal corps aviation school, mineola, l. i. a complete, well illustrated volume intended to facilitate conversation between english-speaking and french aviators. a very valuable book for all who are about to leave for duty overseas. approved for publication by major w. g. kilner, s.c., u.s.c.o. signal corps aviation school. hazelhurst field, mineola, l. i. this book should be in every aviator's and mechanic's kit for ready reference. pages. fully illustrated with detailed engravings. price =$ . = =aviation chart. location of airplane power plant troubles made easy.= by lieut. victor w. pagÉ, a.s., s.c.u.s.r. a large chart outlining all parts of a typical airplane power plant, showing the points where trouble is apt to occur and suggesting remedies for the common defects. intended especially for aviators and aviation mechanics on school and field duty. price = cents= ~brazing and soldering~ =brazing and soldering.= by james f. hobart. the only book that shows you just how to handle any job of brazing or soldering that comes along; it tells you what mixture to use, how to make a furnace if you need one. full of valuable kinks. the fifth edition of this book has just been published, and to it much new matter and a large number of tested formulæ for all kinds of solders and fluxes have been added. illustrated. price = cents= ~charts~ =aviation chart. location of airplane power plant troubles made easy.= by lieut. victor w. pagÉ, a.s., s.c.u.s.r. a large chart outlining all parts of a typical airplane power plant, showing the points where trouble is apt to occur and suggesting remedies for the common defects. intended especially for aviators and aviation mechanics on school and field duty. price = cents= =gasoline engine troubles made easy--a chart showing sectional view of gasoline engine.= compiled by lieut. victor w. pagÉ, a.s., s.c.u.s.r. it shows clearly all parts of a typical four-cylinder gasoline engine of the four-cycle type. it outlines distinctly all parts liable to give trouble and also details the derangements apt to interfere with smooth engine operation. valuable to students, motorists, mechanics, repairmen, garagemen, automobile salesmen, chauffeurs, motor-boat owners, motor-truck and tractor drivers, aviators, motor-cyclists, and all others who have to do with gasoline power plants. it simplifies location of all engine troubles, and while it will prove invaluable to the novice, it can be used to advantage by the more expert. it should be on the walls of every public and private garage, automobile repair shop, club house or school. it can be carried in the automobile or pocket with ease and will insure against loss of time when engine trouble manifests itself. this sectional view of engine is a complete review of all motor troubles. it is prepared by a practical motorist for all who motor. no details omitted. size x inches. price = cents= =lubrication of the motor car chassis.= this chart presents the plan view of a typical six-cylinder chassis of standard design and all parts are clearly indicated that demand oil, also the frequency with which they must be lubricated and the kind of oil to use. a practical chart for all interested in motor-car maintenance. size x inches. price = cents= =location of carburetion troubles made easy.= this chart shows all parts of a typical pressure feed fuel supply system and gives causes of trouble, how to locate defects and means of remedying them. size x inches. price = cents= =location of ignition system troubles made easy.= in this chart all parts of a typical double ignition system using battery and magneto current are shown and suggestions are given for readily finding ignition troubles and eliminating them when found. size x inches. price = cents= =location of cooling and lubrication system faults.= this composite chart shows a typical automobile power plant using pump circulated water-cooling system and the most popular lubrication method. gives suggestions for curing all overheating and loss of power faults due to faulty action of the oiling or cooling group. size x inches. price = cents= =motorcycle troubles made easy--a chart showing sectional view of single-cylinder gasoline engine.= compiled by victor w. pagÉ, m.s.a.e. this chart simplifies location of all power-plant troubles, and will prove invaluable to all who have to do with the operation, repair or sale of motorcycles. no details omitted. size x inches. price = cents= =location of ford engine troubles made easy.= compiled by victor w. pagÉ, m.s.a.e. this shows clear sectional views depicting all portions of the ford power plant and auxiliary groups. it outlines clearly all parts of the engine, fuel supply system, ignition group and cooling system, that are apt to give trouble, detailing all derangements that are liable to make an engine lose power, start hard or work irregularly. this chart is valuable to students, owners, and drivers, as it simplifies location of all engine faults. of great advantage as an instructor for the novice, it can be used equally well by the more expert as a work of reference and review. it can be carried in the toolbox or pocket with ease and will save its cost in labor eliminated the first time engine trouble manifests itself. prepared with special reference to the average man's needs and is a practical review of all motor troubles because it is based on the actual experience of an automobile engineer-mechanic with the mechanism the chart describes. it enables the non-technical owner or operator of a ford car to locate engine derangements by systematic search, guided by easily recognized symptoms instead of by guesswork. it makes the average owner independent of the roadside repair shop when touring. must be seen to be appreciated. size x inches. printed on heavy bond paper. price = cents= =modern submarine chart--with two hundred parts numbered and named.= a cross-section view, showing clearly and distinctly all the interior of a submarine of the latest type. you get more information from this chart, about the construction and operation of a submarine, than in any other way. no details omitted--everything is accurate and to scale. it is absolutely correct in every detail, having been approved by naval engineers. all the machinery and devices fitted in a modern submarine boat are shown, and to make the engraving more readily understood all the features are shown in operative form, with officers and men in the act of performing the duties assigned to them in service conditions. this chart is really an encyclopedia of a submarine. it is educational and worth many times its cost. mailed in a tube for = cents= =box car chart.= a chart showing the anatomy of a box car, having every part of the car numbered and its proper name given in a reference list. price = cents= =gondola car chart.= a chart showing the anatomy of a gondola car, having every part of the car numbered and its proper reference name given in a reference list. price = cents= =passenger-car chart.= a chart showing the anatomy of a passenger-car, having every part of the car numbered and its proper name given in a reference list = cents= =steel hopper bottom coal car.= a chart showing the anatomy of a steel hopper bottom coal car, having every part of the car numbered and its proper name given in a reference list. price = cents= =tractive power chart.= a chart whereby you can find the tractive power or drawbar pull of any locomotive without making a figure. shows what cylinders are equal, how driving wheels and steam pressure affect the power. what sized engine you need to exert a given drawbar pull or anything you desire in this line. price = cents= =horse-power chart.= shows the horse-power of any stationary engine without calculation. no matter what the cylinder diameter of stroke, the steam pressure of cut-off, the revolutions, or whether condensing or non-condensing, it's all there. easy to use, accurate, and saves time and calculations. especially useful to engineers and designers. price = cents= =boiler room chart.= by geo. l. fowler. a chart--size x inches--showing in isometric perspective the mechanisms belonging in a modern boiler room. the various parts are shown broken or removed, so that the internal construction is fully illustrated. each part is given a reference number, and these, with the corresponding name, are given in a glossary printed at the sides. this chart is really a dictionary of the boiler room--the names of more than parts being given. price = cents= ~coke~ =modern coking practice, including analysis of materials and products.= by j. e. christopher and t. h. byrom. this, the standard work on the subject, has just been revised. it is a practical work for those engaged in coke manufacture and the recovery of by-products. fully illustrated with folding plates. it has been the aim of the authors, in preparing this book, to produce one which shall be of use and benefit to those who are associated with, or interested in, the modern developments of the industry. among the chapters contained in volume i are: introduction; classification of fuels; impurities of coals; coal washing; sampling and valuation of coals, etc.; power of fuels; history of coke manufacture; developments in the coke oven design; recent types of coke ovens; mechanical appliances at coke ovens; chemical and physical examination of coke. volume ii covers fully the subject of by-products. price, per volume =$ . net= ~compressed air~ =compressed air in all its applications.= by gardner d. hiscox. this is the most complete book on the subject of air that has ever been issued, and its thirty-five chapters include about every phase of the subject one can think of. it may be called an encyclopedia of compressed air. it is written by an expert, who, in its pages, has dealt with the subject in a comprehensive manner, no phase of it being omitted. includes the physical properties of air from a vacuum to its highest pressure, its thermodynamics, compression, transmission and uses as a motive power, in the operation of stationary and portable machinery, in mining, air tools, air lifts, pumping of water, acids, and oils; the air blast for cleaning and painting the sand blast and its work, and the numerous appliances in which compressed air is a most convenient and economical transmitter of power for mechanical work, railway propulsion, refrigeration, and the various uses to which compressed air has been applied. includes forty-four tables of the physical properties of air, its compression, expansion, and volumes required for various kinds of work, and a list of patents on compressed air from to date. over illustrations, th edition, revised and enlarged. cloth bound. price =$ . = half morocco. price =$ . = ~concrete~ =concrete workers' reference books. a series of popular handbooks for concrete users.= prepared by a. a. houghton = cents= _the author, in preparing this series, has not only treated on the usual types of construction, but explains and illustrates molds and systems that are not patented, but which are equal in value and often superior to those restricted by patents. these molds are very easily and cheaply constructed and embody simplicity, rapidity of operation, and the most successful results in the molded concrete. each of these books is fully illustrated, and the subjects are exhaustively treated in plain english._ =concrete wall forms.= by a. a. houghton. a new automatic wall clamp is illustrated with working drawings. other types of wall forms, clamps, separators, etc., are also illustrated and explained. (no. of series) price = cents= =concrete floors and sidewalks.= by a. a. houghton. the molds for molding squares, hexagonal and many other styles of mosaic floor and sidewalk blocks are fully illustrated and explained. (no. of series) price = cents= =practical concrete silo construction.= by a. a. houghton. complete working drawings and specifications are given for several styles of concrete silos, with illustrations of molds for monolithic and block silos. the tables, data, and information presented in this book are of the utmost value in planning and constructing all forms of concrete silos. (no. of series) price = cents= =molding concrete chimneys, slate and hoof tiles.= by a. a. houghton. the manufacture of all types of concrete slate and roof tile is fully treated. valuable data on all forms of reinforced concrete roofs are contained within its pages. the construction of concrete chimneys by block and monolithic systems is fully illustrated and described. a number of ornamental designs of chimney construction with molds are shown in this valuable treatise. (no. of series.) price = cents= =molding and curing ornamental concrete.= by a. a. houghton. the proper proportions of cement and aggregates for various finishes, also the method of thoroughly mixing and placing in the molds, are fully treated. an exhaustive treatise on this subject that every concrete worker will find of daily use and value. (no. of series.) price = cents= =concrete monuments, mausoleums and burial vaults.= by a. a. houghton. the molding of concrete monuments to imitate the most expensive cut stone is explained in this treatise with working drawings of easily built molds. cutting inscriptions and designs are also fully treated. (no. of series.) price = cents= =molding concrete bathtubs, aquariums and natatoriums.= by a. a. houghton. simple molds and instruction are given for molding many styles of concrete bathtubs, swimming-pools, etc. these molds are easily built and permit rapid and successful work. (no. of series.) price = cents= =concrete bridges, culverts and sewers.= by a. a. houghton. a number of ornamental concrete bridges with illustrations of molds are given. a collapsible center or core for bridges, culverts and sewers is fully illustrated with detailed instructions for building. (no. of series.) price = cents= =constructing concrete porches.= by a. a. houghton. a number of designs with working drawings of molds are fully explained so any one can easily construct different styles of ornamental concrete porches without the purchase of expensive molds. (no. of series.) price = cents= =molding concrete flower-pots, boxes, jardinieres, etc.= by a. a. houghton. the molds for producing many original designs of flower-pots, urns, flower-boxes, jardinieres, etc., are fully illustrated and explained, so the worker can easily construct and operate same. (no. of series.) price = cents= =molding concrete fountains and lawn ornaments.= by a. a. houghton. the molding of a number of designs of lawn seats, curbing, hitching posts, pergolas, sun dials and other forms of ornamental concrete for the ornamentation of lawns and gardens, is fully illustrated and described. (no. of series.) price = cents= =concrete from sand molds.= by a. a. houghton. a practical work treating on a process which has heretofore been held as a trade secret by the few who possessed it, and which will successfully mold every and any class of ornamental concrete work. the process of molding concrete with sand molds is of the utmost practical value, possessing the manifold advantages of a low cost of molds, the ease and rapidity of operation, perfect details to all ornamental designs, density and increased strength of the concrete, perfect curing of the work without attention and the easy removal of the molds regardless of any undercutting the design may have. pages. fully illustrated price =$ . = =ornamental concrete without molds.= by a. a. houghton. the process for making ornamental concrete without molds has long been held as a secret, and now, for the first time, this process is given to the public. the book reveals the secret and is the only book published which explains a simple, practical method whereby the concrete worker is enabled, by employing wood and metal templates of different designs, to mold or model in concrete any cornice, archivolt, column, pedestal, base cap, urn or pier in a monolithic form--right upon the job. these may be molded in units or blocks and then built up to suit the specifications demanded. this work is fully illustrated, with detailed engravings. price =$ . = =concrete for the farm and in the shop.= by h. colin campbell, c.e., e.m. "concrete for the farm and in the shop" is a new book from cover to cover, illustrating and describing in plain, simple language many of the numerous applications of concrete within the range of the home worker. among the subjects treated are: principles of reinforcing; methods of protecting concrete so as to insure proper hardening; home-made mixers; mixing by hand and machine; form construction, described and illustrated by drawings and photographs; construction of concrete walls and fences; concrete fence posts; concrete gate posts; corner posts; clothes line posts; grape arbor posts; tanks; troughs; cisterns; hog wallows; feeding floors and barnyard pavements; foundations; well curbs and platforms; indoor floors; sidewalks; steps; concrete hotbeds and cold frames; concrete slab roofs; walls for buildings; repairing leaks in tanks and cisterns; and all topics associated with these subjects as bearing upon securing the best results from concrete are dwelt upon at sufficient length in plain every-day english so that the inexperienced person desiring to undertake a piece of concrete construction can, by following the directions set forth in this book, secure per cent. success every time. a number of convenient and practical tables for estimating quantities, and some practical examples, are also given. ( x .) pages. illustrations. price = cents= =popular handbook for cement and concrete users.= by myron h. lewis. this is a concise treatise of the principles and methods employed in the manufacture and use of cement in all classes of modern works. the author has brought together in this work all the salient matter of interest to the user of concrete and its many diversified products. the matter is presented in logical and systematic order, clearly written, fully illustrated and free from involved mathematics. everything of value to the concrete user is given, including kinds of cement employed in construction, concrete architecture, inspection and testing, waterproofing, coloring and painting, rules, tables, working and cost data. the book comprises thirty-three chapters, as follow: introductory. kinds of cement and how they are made. properties. testing and requirements of hydraulic cement. concrete and its properties. sand, broken stone and gravel for concrete. how to proportion the materials. how to mix and place concrete. forms of concrete construction. the architectural and artistic possibilities of concrete. concrete residences. mortars, plasters and stucco, and how to use them. the artistic treatment of concrete surfaces. concrete building blocks. the making of ornamental concrete. concrete pipes, fences, posts, etc. essential features and advantages of reenforced concrete. how to design reenforced concrete beams, slabs and columns. explanations of the methods and principles in designing reenforced concrete, beams and slabs. systems of reenforcement employed. reenforced concrete in factory and general building construction. concrete in foundation work. concrete retaining walls, abutments and bulkheads. concrete arches and arch bridges. concrete beam and girder bridges. concrete in sewerage and draining works. concrete tanks, dams and reservoirs. concrete sidewalks, curbs and pavements. concrete in railroad construction. the utility of concrete on the farm. the waterproofing of concrete structures. grout of liquid concrete and its use. inspection of concrete work. cost of concrete work. some of the special features of the book are: .--the attention paid to the artistic and architectural side of concrete work. .--the authoritative treatment of the problem of waterproofing concrete. .--an excellent summary of the rules to be followed in concrete construction. .--the valuable cost data and useful tables given. a valuable addition to the library of every cement and concrete user. price =$ . = what is said of this book: "the field of concrete construction is well covered and the matter contained is well within the understanding of any person."--_engineering-contracting._ "should be on the bookshelves of every contractor, engineer, and architect in the land."--_national builder._ =waterproofing concrete.= by myron h. lewis. modern methods of waterproofing concrete and other structures. a condensed statement of the principles, rules, and precautions to be observed in waterproofing and dampproofing structures and structural materials. paper binding. illustrated. price = cents= ~dictionaries~ =aviation terms, termes d'aviation, english-french, french-english.= compiled by lieuts. victor w. pagÉ, a.s., s.c.u.s.r., and paul montariol, of the french flying corps, on duty on signal corps aviation school, mineola, l. i. the lists contained are confined to essentials, and special folding plates are included to show all important airplane parts. the lists are divided in four sections as follows: .--flying field terms. .--the airplane. .--the engine. .--tools and shop terms. a complete, well illustrated volume intended to facilitate conversation between english-speaking and french aviators. a very valuable book for all who are about to leave for duty overseas. approved for publication by major w. g. kilner, s.c., u.s.c.o. signal corps aviation school, hazelhurst field, mineola, l. i. this book should be in every aviator's and mechanic's kit for ready reference. pages, fully illustrated, with detailed engravings. price =$ . = =standard electrical dictionary.= by t. o'conor sloane. an indispensable work to all interested in electrical science. suitable alike for the student and professional. a practical handbook of reference containing definitions of about , distinct words, terms and phrases. the definitions are terse and concise; and include every term used in electrical science. recently issued. an entirely new edition. should be in the possession of all who desire to keep abreast with the progress of this branch of science. complete, concise and convenient. pages, illustrations. price =$ . = ~dies--metal work~ =dies: their construction and use for the modern working of sheet metals.= by j. v. woodworth. a most useful book, and one which should be in the hands of all engaged in the press working of metals; treating on the designing, constructing, and use of tools, fixtures and devices, together with the manner in which they should be used in the power press, for the cheap and rapid production of the great variety of sheet-metal articles now in use. it is designed as a guide to the production of sheet-metal parts at the minimum of cost with the maximum of output. the hardening and tempering of press tools and the classes of work which may be produced to the best advantage by the use of dies in the power press are fully treated. its illustrations show dies, press fixtures and sheet-metal working devices, the descriptions of which are so clear and practical that all metal-working mechanics will be able to understand how to design, construct and use them. many of the dies and press fixtures treated were either constructed by the author or under his supervision. others were built by skilful mechanics and are in use in large sheet-metal establishments and machine shops. th revised and enlarged edition. price =$ . = =punches, dies and tools for manufacturing in presses.= by j. v. woodworth. this work is a companion volume to the author's elementary work entitled "dies: their construction and use." it does not go into the details of die-making to the extent of the author's previous book, but gives a comprehensive review of the field of operations carried on by presses. a large part of the information given has been drawn from the author's personal experience. it might well be termed an encyclopedia of die-making, punch-making, die-sinking, sheet-metal working, and making of special tools, sub-presses, devices and mechanical combinations for punching, cutting, bending, forming, piercing, drawing, compressing and assembling sheet-metal parts, and also articles of other materials in machine tools. d edition. price =$ . = =drop forging, die-sinking and machine-forming of steel.= by j. v. woodworth. this is a practical treatise on modern shop practice, processes, methods, machine tools, and details treating on the hot and cold machine-forming of steel and iron into finished shapes: together with tools, dies, and machinery involved in the manufacture of duplicate forgings and interchangeable hot and cold pressed parts from bar and sheet metal. this book fills a demand of long standing for information regarding drop-forgings, die-sinking and machine-forming of steel and the shop practice involved, as it actually exists in the modern drop-forging shop. the processes of die-sinking and force-making, which are thoroughly described and illustrated in this admirable work, are rarely to be found explained in such a clear and concise manner as is here set forth. the process of die-sinking relates to the engraving or sinking of the female or lower dies, such as are used for drop-forgings, hot and cold machine-forging, swedging, and the press working of metals. the process of force-making relates to the engraving or raising of the male or upper dies used in producing the lower dies for the press-forming and machine-forging of duplicate parts of metal. in addition to the arts above mentioned the book contains explicit information regarding the drop-forging and hardening plants, designs, conditions, equipment, drop hammers, forging machines, etc., machine forging, hydraulic forging, autogenous welding and shop practice. the book contains eleven chapters, and the information contained in these chapters is just what will prove most valuable to the forged-metal worker. all operations described in the work are thoroughly illustrated by means of perspective half-tones and outline sketches of the machinery employed. detailed illustrations. price =$ . = ~drawing--sketching paper~ =practical perspective.= by richards and colvin. shows just how to make all kinds of mechanical drawings in the only practical perspective isometric. makes everything plain, so that any mechanic can understand a sketch or drawing in this way. saves time in the drawing room, and mistakes in the shops. contains practical examples of various classes of work. th edition. price = cents= =linear perspective self-taught.= by herman t. c. kraus. this work gives the theory and practice of linear perspective, as used in architectural, engineering and mechanical drawings. persons taking up the study of the subject by themselves will be able, by the use of the instruction given, to readily grasp the subject, and by reasonable practice become good perspective draftsmen. the arrangement of the book is good; the plate is on the left-hand, while the descriptive text follows on the opposite page, so as to be readily referred to. the drawings are on sufficiently large scale to show the work clearly and are plainly figured. there is included a self-explanatory chart which gives all information necessary for the thorough understanding of perspective. this chart alone is worth many times over the price of the book. d revised and enlarged edition. price =$ . = =self-taught mechanical drawing and elementary machine design.= by f. l. sylvester, m.e., draftsman, with additions by erik oberg, associate editor of "machinery." this is a practical treatise on mechanical drawing and machine design, comprising the first principles of geometric and mechanical drawing, workshop mathematics, mechanics, strength of materials and the calculations and design of machine details. the author's aim has been to adapt this treatise to the requirements of the practical mechanic and young draftsman and to present the matter in as clear and concise a manner as possible. to meet the demands of this class of students, practically all the important elements of machine design have been dealt with, and in addition algebraic formulas have been explained, and the elements of trigonometry treated in the manner best suited to the needs of the practical man. the book is divided into chapters, and in arranging the material, mechanical drawing, pure and simple, has been taken up first, as a thorough understanding of the principles of representing objects facilitates the further study of mechanical subjects. this is followed by the mathematics necessary for the solution of the problems in machine design which are presented later, and a practical introduction to theoretical mechanics and the strength of materials. the various elements entering into machine design, such as cams, gears, sprocket-wheels, cone pulleys, bolts, screws, couplings, clutches, shafting and fly-wheels, have been treated in such a way as to make possible the use of the work as a text-book for a continuous course of study. it is easily comprehended and assimilated even by students of limited previous training. pages, engravings. price =$ . = =a new sketching paper.= a new specially ruled paper to enable you to make sketches or drawings in isometric perspective without any figuring or fussing. it is being used for shop details as well as for assembly drawings, as it makes one sketch do the work of three, and no workman can help seeing just what is wanted. pads of sheets, x inches. price = cents= pads of sheets, x inches. price = cents= sheets, x inches. price =$ . = ~electricity~ =arithmetic of electricity.= by prof. t. o'conor sloane. a practical treatise on electrical calculations of all kinds reduced to a series of rules, all of the simplest forms, and involving only ordinary arithmetic; each rule illustrated by one or more practical problems, with detailed solution of each one. this book is classed among the most useful works published on the science of electricity, covering as it does the mathematics of electricity in a manner that will attract the attention of those who are not familiar with algebraical formulas. th edition. pages. price =$ . = =commutator construction.= by wm. baxter, jr. the business end of any dynamo or motor of the direct current type is the commutator. this book goes into the designing, building, and maintenance of commutators, shows how to locate troubles and how to remedy them; everyone who fusses with dynamos needs this. th edition. price = cents= =dynamo building for amateurs, or how to construct a fifty-watt dynamo.= by arthur j. weed, member of n. y. electrical society. a practical treatise showing in detail the construction of a small dynamo or motor, the entire machine work of which can be done on a small foot lathe. dimensioned working drawings are given for each piece of machine work, and each operation is clearly described. this machine, when used as a dynamo, has an output of fifty watts; when used as a motor it will drive a small drill press or lathe. it can be used to drive a sewing machine on any and all ordinary work. the book is illustrated with more than sixty original engravings, showing the actual construction of the different parts. among the contents are chapters on: . fifty-watt dynamo. . side bearing rods. . field punching. . bearings. . commutator. . pulley. . brush holders. . connection board. . armature shaft. . armature. . armature winding. . field winding. . connecting and starting. paper. price = cents= cloth. price =$ . = =electric bells.= by m. b. sleeper. a complete treatise for the practical worker in installing, operating and testing bell circuits, burglar alarms, thermostats, and other apparatus used with electric bells. both the electrician and the experimenter will find in this book new material which is essential in their work. tools, bells, batteries, unusual circuits, burglar alarms, annunciator systems, thermostats, circuit breakers, time alarms, and other apparatus used in bell circuits are described from the standpoints of their application, construction and repair. the detailed instruction for building the apparatus will appeal to the experimenter particularly. the practical worker will find the chapter on wiring, calculation of wire sizes and magnet winding, upkeep of systems, and the location of faults, of the greatest value in their work. among the chapters are: tools and materials for bell work; how and why bell work; batteries for small installations; making bells and push buttons; wiring bell systems; construction of annunciators and signals; burglary alarms and auxiliary apparatus; more elaborate bell systems; finding faults and remedying them. pages, fully illustrated. price = cents= =electric lighting and heating pocket book.= by sydney f. walker. this book puts in convenient form useful information regarding the apparatus which is likely to be attached to the mains of an electrical company. tables of units and equivalents are included and useful electrical laws and formulas are stated. pages, engravings. bound in leather. pocket book form. price =$ . = =electric wiring, diagrams and switchboards.= by newton harrison, with additions by thomas poppe. a thoroughly practical treatise covering the subject of electric wiring in all its branches, deluding explanations and diagrams which are thoroughly explicit and greatly simplify the subject. practical every-day problems in wiring are presented and the method of obtaining intelligent results clearly shown. only arithmetic is used. ohm's law is given a simple explanation with reference to wiring for direct and alternating currents. the fundamental principle of drop of potential in circuits is shown with its various applications. the simple circuit is developed with the position of mains, feeders and branches; their treatment as a part of a wiring plan and their employment in house wiring clearly illustrated. some simple facts about testing are included in connection with the wiring. molding and conduit work are given careful consideration; and switchboards are systematically treated, built up and illustrated, showing the purpose they serve, for connection with the circuits, and to shunt and compound wound machines. the simple principles of switchboard construction, the development of the switchboard, the connections of the various instruments, including the lightning arrester, are also plainly set forth. alternating current wiring is treated, with explanations of the power factor, conditions calling for various sizes of wire, and a simple way of obtaining the sizes for single-phase, two-phase and three-phase circuits. this is the only complete work issued showing and telling you what you should know about direct and alternating current wiring. it is a ready reference. the work is free from advanced technicalities and mathematics, arithmetic being used throughout. it is in every respect a handy, well-written, instructive, comprehensive volume on wiring for the wireman, foreman, contractor, or electrician. nd revised edition. pages, illustrations. price =$ . = =electric furnaces and their industrial applications.= by j. wright. this is a book which will prove of interest to many classes of people: the manufacturer who desires to know what product can be manufactured successfully in the electric furnace, the chemist who wishes to post himself on the electro-chemistry, and the student of science who merely looks into the subject from curiosity. new, revised and enlarged edition. pages. fully illustrated, cloth. price =$ . = =electric toy making, dynamo building, and electric motor construction.= by prof. t. o'conor sloane. this work treats of the making at home of electrical toys, electrical apparatus, motors, dynamos, and instruments in general, and is designed to bring within the reach of young and old the manufacture of genuine and useful electrical appliances. the work is especially designed for amateurs and young folks. thousands of our young people are daily experimenting, and busily engaged in making electrical toys and apparatus of various kinds. the present work is just what is wanted to give the much needed information in a plain, practical manner, with illustrations to make easy the carrying out of the work. th edition. price =$ . = =practical electricity.= by prof. t. o'conor sloane. this work of pages was previously known as sloane's electricians' hand book, and is intended for the practical electrician who has to make things go. the entire field of electricity is covered within its pages. among some of the subjects treated are: the theory of the electric current and circuit, electro-chemistry, primary batteries, storage batteries, generation and utilization of electric powers, alternating current, armature winding, dynamos and motors, motor generators, operation of the central station switchboards, safety appliances, distribution of electric light and power, street mains, transformers, arc and incandescent lighting, electric measurements, photometry, electric railways, telephony, bell-wiring, electric-plating, electric heating, wireless telegraphy, etc. it contains no useless theory; everything is to the point. it teaches you just what you want to know about electricity. it is the standard work published on the subject. forty-one chapters, engravings. price =$ . = =electricity simplified.= by prof. t. o'conor sloane. the object of "electricity simplified" is to make the subject as plain as possible and to show what the modern conception of electricity is; to show how two plates of different metal, immersed in acid, can send a message around the globe; to explain how a bundle of copper wire rotated by a steam engine can be the agent in lighting our streets; to tell what the volt, ohm and ampere are, and what high and low tension mean; and to answer the questions that perpetually arise in the mind in this age of electricity. th edition. pages. illustrated. price =$ . = =house wiring.= by thomas w. poppe. this work describes and illustrates the actual installation of electric light wiring, the manner in which the work should be done, and the method of doing it. the book can be conveniently carried in the pocket. it is intended for the electrician, helper and apprentice. it solves all wiring problems and contains nothing that conflicts with the rulings of the national board of fire underwriters. it gives just the information essential to the successful wiring of a building. among the subjects treated are: locating the meter. panel-boards. switches. plug receptacles. brackets. ceiling fixtures. the meter connections. the feed wires. the steel armored cable system. the flexible steel conduit system. the ridig conduit system. a digest of the national board of fire underwriters' rules relating to metallic wiring systems. various switching arrangements explained and diagrammed. the easiest method of testing the three- and four-way circuits explained. the grounding of all metallic wiring systems and the reason for doing so shown and explained. the insulation of the metal parts of lamp fixtures and the reason for the same described and illustrated. pages. nd edition, revised and enlarged. fully illustrated. flexible cloth. price = cents= =how to become a successful electrician.= by prof. t. o'conor sloane. every young man who wishes to become a successful electrician should read this book. it tells in simple language the surest and easiest way to become a successful electrician. the studies to be followed, methods of work, field of operation and the requirements of the successful electrician are pointed out and fully explained. every young engineer will find this an excellent stepping stone to more advanced works on electricity which he must master before success can be attained. many young men become discouraged at the very outstart by attempting to read and study books that are far beyond their comprehension. this book serves as the connecting link between the rudiments taught in the public schools and the real study of electricity. it is interesting from cover to cover. th revised edition, just issued. pages. illustrated. price =$ . = =management of dynamos.= by lummis-paterson. a handbook of theory and practice. this work is arranged in three parts. the first part covers the elementary theory of the dynamo. the second part, the construction and action of the different classes of dynamos in common use are described; while the third part relates to such matters as affect the practical management and working of dynamos and motors. th edition. pages, illustrations. price =$ . = =standard electrical dictionary.= by t. o'conor sloane. an indispensable work to all interested in electrical science. suitable alike for the student and professional. a practical handbook of reference containing definitions of about , distinct words, terms and phrases. the definitions are terse and concise and include every term used in electrical science. recently issued. an entirely new edition. should be in the possession of all who desire to keep abreast with the progress of this branch of science. in its arrangement and typography the book is very convenient. the word or term defined is printed in black-faced type, which readily catches the eye, while the body of the page is in smaller but distinct type. the definitions are well worded, and so as to be understood by the non-technical reader. the general plan seems to be to give an exact, concise definition, and then amplify and explain in a more popular way. synonyms are also given, and references to other words and phrases are made. a very complete and accurate index of fifty pages is at the end of the volume; and as this index contains all synonyms, and as all phrases are indexed in every reasonable combination of words, reference to the proper place in the body of the book is readily made. it is difficult to decide how far a book of this character is to keep the dictionary form, and to what extent it may assume the encyclopedia form. for some purposes, concise, exactly worded definitions are needed; for other purposes, more extended descriptions are required. this book seeks to satisfy both demands, and does it with considerable success. pages, illustrations. th edition. price =$ . = =storage batteries simplified.= by victor w. pagÉ, m.e. a complete treatise on storage battery operating principles, repairs and applications. the greatly increasing application of storage batteries in modern engineering and mechanical work has created a demand for a book that will consider this subject completely and exclusively. this is the most thorough and authoritative treatise ever published on this subject. it is written in easily understandable, non-technical language so that any one may grasp the basic principles of storage battery action as well as their practical industrial applications. all electric and gasoline automobiles use storage batteries. every automobile repairman, dealer or salesman should have a good knowledge of maintenance and repair of these important elements of the motor car mechanism. this book not only tells how to charge, care for and rebuild storage batteries but also outlines all the industrial uses. learn how they run street cars, locomotives and factory trucks. get an understanding of the important functions they perform in submarine boats, isolated lighting plants, railway switch and signal systems, marine applications, etc. this book tells how they are used in central station standby service, for starting automobile motors and in ignition systems. every practical use of the modern storage battery is outlined in this treatise. pages, fully illustrated. price =$ . = =switchboards.= by william baxter, jr. this book appeals to every engineer and electrician who wants to know the practical side of things. it takes up all sorts and conditions of dynamos, connections and circuits, and shows by diagram and illustration just how the switchboard should be connected. includes direct and alternating current boards, also those for arc lighting, incandescent and power circuits. special treatment on high voltage boards for power transmission. nd edition. pages, illustrated. price =$ . = =telephone construction, installation, wiring, operation and maintenance.= by w. h. radcliffe and h. c. cushing. this book is intended for the amateur, the wireman, or the engineer who desires to establish a means of telephonic communication between the rooms of his home, office, or shop. it deals only with such things as may be of use to him rather than with theories. gives the principles of construction and operation of both the bell and independent instruments; approved methods of installing and wiring them; the means of protecting them from lightning and abnormal currents; their connection together for operation as series or bridging stations; and rules for their inspection and maintenance. line wiring and the wiring and operation of special telephone systems are also treated. intricate mathematics are avoided, and all apparatus, circuits and systems are thoroughly described. the appendix contains definitions of units and terms used in the text. selected wiring tables, which are very helpful, are also included. among the subjects treated are construction, operation, and installation of telephone instruments; inspection and maintenance of telephone instruments; telephone line wiring; testing telephone line wires and cables; wiring and operation of special telephone systems, etc. nd edition, revised and enlarged. pages, illustrations. price =$ . = =wireless telegraphy and telephony simply explained.= by alfred p. morgan. this is undoubtedly one of the most complete and comprehensible treatises on the subject ever published, and a close study of its pages will enable one to master all the details of the wireless transmission of messages. the author has filled a long-felt want and has succeeded in furnishing a lucid, comprehensible explanation in simple language of the theory and practice of wireless telegraphy and telephony. among the contents are: introductory; wireless transmission and reception--the aerial system, earth connections--the transmitting apparatus, spark coils and transformers, condensers, helixes, spark gaps, anchor gaps, aerial switches--the receiving apparatus, detectors, etc.--tuning and coupling, tuning coils, loose couplers, variable condensers, directive wave systems--miscellaneous apparatus, telephone receivers, range of stations, static interference--wireless telephones, sound and sound waves, the vocal cords and ear--wireless telephone, how sounds are changed into electric waves--wireless telephones, the apparatus--summary. pages, engravings. price =$ . = =wiring a house.= by herbert pratt. shows a house already built; tells just how to start about wiring it; where to begin; what wire to use; how to run it according to insurance rules; in fact, just the information you need. directions apply equally to a shop. th edition. price = cents= ~factory management, etc.~ =modern machine shop construction, equipment and management.= by o. e. perrigo, m.e. the only work published that describes the modern machine shop or manufacturing plant from the time the grass is growing on the site intended for it until the finished product is shipped. by a careful study of its thirty-two chapters the practical man may economically build, efficiently equip, and successfully manage the modern machine shop or manufacturing establishment. just the book needed by those contemplating the erection of modern shop buildings, the rebuilding and reorganization of old ones, or the introduction of modern shop methods, time and cost systems. it is a book written and illustrated by a practical shop man for practical shop men who are too busy to read _theories_ and want _facts_. it is the most complete all-around book of its kind ever published. it is a practical book for practical men, from the apprentice in the shop to the president in the office. it minutely describes and illustrates the most simple and yet the most efficient time and cost system yet devised. nd revised and enlarged edition, just issued. pages, illustrations. price =$ . = ~fuel~ =combustion of coal and the prevention of smoke.= by wm. m. barr. this book has been prepared with special reference to the generation of heat by the combustion of the common fuels found in the united states, and deals particularly with the conditions necessary to the economic and smokeless combustion of bituminous coals in stationary and locomotive steam boilers. the presentation of this important subject is systematic and progressive. the arrangement of the book is in a series of practical questions to which are appended accurate answers, which describe in language, free from technicalities, the several processes involved in the furnace combustion of american fuels; it clearly states the essential requisites for perfect combustion, and points out the best methods for furnace construction for obtaining the greatest quantity of heat from any given quality of coal. nearly pages, fully illustrated. price =$ . = =smoke prevention and fuel economy.= by booth and kershaw. a complete treatise for all interested in smoke prevention and combustion, being based on the german work of ernst schmatolla, but it is more than a mere translation of the german treatise, much being added. the authors show as briefly as possible the principles of fuel combustion, the methods which have been and are at present in use, as well as the proper scientific methods for obtaining all the energy in the coal and burning it without smoke. considerable space is also given to the examination of the waste gases, and several of the representative english and american mechanical stoker and similar appliances are described. the losses carried away in the waste gases are thoroughly analyzed and discussed in the appendix, and abstracts are also here given of various patents on combustion apparatus. the book is complete and contains much of value to all who have charge of large plants. pages. illustrated. price =$ . = ~gas engines and gas~ =gas, gasoline and oil engines.= by gardner d. hiscox. revised by victor w. pagÉ, m.e. just issued new edition, revised and enlarged. every user of a gas engine needs this book. simple, instructive and right up-to-date. the only complete work on the subject. tells all about internal combustion engineering, treating exhaustively on the design, construction and practical application of all forms of gas, gasoline, kerosene and crude petroleum-oil engines. describes minutely all auxiliary systems, such as lubrication, carburetion and ignition. considers the theory and management of all forms of explosive motors for stationary and marine work, automobiles, aeroplanes and motor-cycles. includes also producer gas and its production. invaluable instructions for all students, gas-engine owners, gas-engineers, patent experts, designers, mechanics, draftsmen and all having to do with the modern power. illustrated by over engravings, many specially made from engineering drawings, all in correct proportion. pages, engravings. price =$ . net= =the gasoline engine on the farm: its operation, repair and uses.= by xeno w. putnam. this is a practical treatise on the gasoline and kerosene engine intended for the man who wants to know just how to manage his engine and how to apply it to all kinds of farm work to the best advantage. this book abounds with hints and helps for the farm and suggestions for the home and house-wife. there is so much of value in this book that it is impossible to adequately describe it in such small space. suffice to say that it is the kind of a book every farmer will appreciate and every farm home ought to have. includes selecting the most suitable engine for farm work, its most convenient and efficient installation, with chapters on troubles, their remedies, and how to avoid them. the care and management of the farm tractor in plowing, harrowing, harvesting and road grading are fully covered; also plain directions are given for handling the tractor on the road. special attention is given to relieving farm life of its drudgery by applying power to the disagreeable small tasks which must otherwise be done by hand. many home made contrivances for cutting wood, supplying kitchen, garden, and barn with water, loading, hauling and unloading hay, delivering grain to the bins or the feed trough are included; also full directions for making the engine milk the cows, churn, wash, sweep the house and clean the windows, etc. very fully illustrated with drawings of working parts and cuts showing stationary, portable and tractor engines doing all kinds of farm work. all money-making farms utilize power. learn how to utilize power by reading the pages of this book. it is an aid to the result getter, invaluable to the up-to-date farmer, student, blacksmith, implement dealer and, in fact, all who can apply practical knowledge of stationary gasoline engines or gas tractors to advantage. pages. nearly engravings. price =$ . = what is said of this book: "am much pleased with the book and find it to be very complete and up-to-date. i will heartily recommend it to students and farmers whom i think would stand in need of such a work, as i think it is an exceptionally good one."--_n. s. gardiner_, prof. in charge, clemson agr. college of s. c.; dept. of agri. and agri. exp. station, clemson college, s. c. "i feel that mr. putnam's book covers the main points which a farmer should know."--_r. t. burdick_, instructor in agronomy, university of vermont, burlington, vt. =gasoline engines: their operation, use and care.= by a. hyatt verrill. the simplest, latest and most comprehensive popular work published on gasoline engines, describing what the gasoline engine is; its construction and operation; how to install it; how to select it; how to use it and how to remedy troubles encountered. intended for owners, operators and users of gasoline motors of all kinds. this work fully describes and illustrates the various types of gasoline engines used in motor boats, motor vehicles and stationary work. the parts, accessories and appliances are described with chapters on ignition, fuel, lubrication, operation and engine troubles. special attention is given to the care, operation and repair of motors, with useful hints and suggestions on emergency repairs and makeshifts. a complete glossary of technical terms and an alphabetically arranged table of troubles and their symptoms form most valuable and unique features of this manual. nearly every illustration in the book is original, having been made by the author. every page is full of interest and value. a book which you cannot afford to be without. pages, specially made engravings. price =$ . = =gas engine construction, or how to build a half-horsepower gas engine.= by parsell and weed. a practical treatise of pages describing the theory and principles of the action of gas engines of various types and the design and construction of a half-horsepower gas engine, with illustrations of the work in actual progress, together with the dimensioned working drawings, giving clearly the sizes of the various details; for the student, the scientific investigator, and the amateur mechanic. this book treats of the subject more from the standpoint of practice than that of theory. the principles of operation of gas engines are clearly and simply described, and then the actual construction of a half-horsepower engine is taken up, step by step, showing in detail the making of the gas engine. rd edition. pages. price =$ . = =how to run and install two- and four-cycle marine gasoline engines.= by c. von culin. revised and enlarged edition just issued. the object of this little book is to furnish a pocket instructor for the beginner, the busy man who uses an engine for pleasure or profit, but who does not have the time or inclination for a technical book, but simply to thoroughly understand how to properly operate, install and care for his own engine. the index refers to each trouble, remedy, and subject alphabetically. being a quick reference to find the cause, remedy and prevention for troubles, and to become an expert with his own engine. pocket size. paper binding. price = cents= =modern gas engines and producer gas plants.= by r. e. mathot. a guide for the gas engine designer, user, and engineer in the construction, selection, purchase, installation, operation, and maintenance of gas engines. more than one book on gas engines has been written, but not one has thus far even encroached on the field covered by this book. above all, mr. mathot's work is a practical guide. recognizing the need of a volume that would assist the gas engine user in understanding thoroughly the motor upon which he depends for power, the author has discussed his subject without the help of any mathematics and without elaborate theoretical explanations. every part of the gas engine is described in detail, tersely, clearly, with a thorough understanding of the requirements of the mechanic. helpful suggestions as to the purchase of an engine, its installation, care, and operation, form a most valuable feature of the work. pages, detailed illustrations. price =$ . = =the modern gas tractor.= by victor w. pagÉ, m. e. a complete treatise describing all types and sizes of gasoline, kerosene and oil tractors. considers design and construction exhaustively, gives complete instructions for care, operation and repair, outlines all practical applications on the road and in the field. the best and latest work on farm tractors and tractor power plants. a work needed by farmers, students, blacksmiths, mechanics, salesmen, implement dealers, designers and engineers. nd edition, revised. pages, illustrations, folding plates. price =$ . = ~gearing and cams~ =bevel gear tables.= by d. ag. engstrom. a book that will at once commend itself to mechanics and draftsmen. does away with all the trigonometry and fancy figuring on bevel gears, and makes it easy for anyone to lay them out or make them just right. there are full-page tables that show every necessary dimension for all sizes or combinations you're apt to need. no puzzling, figuring or guessing. gives placing distance, all the angles (including cutting angles), and the correct cutter to use. a copy of this prepares you for anything in the bevel-gear line. rd edition. pages. price =$ . = =change gear devices.= by oscar e. perrigo. a practical book for every designer, draftsman, and mechanic interested in the invention and development of the devices for feed changes on the different machines requiring such mechanism. all the necessary information on this subject is taken up, analyzed, classified, sifted, and concentrated for the use of busy men who have not the time to go through the masses of irrelevant matter with which such a subject is usually encumbered and select such information as will be useful to them. it shows just what has been done, how it has been done, when it was done, and who did it. it saves time in hunting up patent records and re-inventing old ideas. pages. rd edition. price =$ . = =drafting of cams.= by louis rouillion. the laying out of cams is a serious problem unless you know how to go at it right. this puts you on the right road for practically any kind of cam you are likely to run up against. rd edition. price = cents= ~hydraulics~ =hydraulic engineering.= by gardner d. hiscox. a treatise on the properties, power, and resources of water for all purposes. including the measurement of streams, the flow of water in pipes or conduits; the horsepower of falling water, turbine and impact water-wheels, wave motors, centrifugal, reciprocating and air-lift pumps. with figures and diagrams and practical tables. all who are interested in water-works development will find this book a useful one, because it is an entirely practical treatise upon a subject of present importance and cannot fail in having a far-reaching influence, and for this reason should have a place in the working library of every engineer. among the subjects treated are: historical hydraulics; properties of water; measurement of the flow of streams; flow from sub-surface orifices and nozzles; flow of water in pipes; siphons of various kinds; dams and great storage reservoirs; city and town water supply; wells and their reinforcement; air-lift methods of raising water; artesian wells; irrigation of arid districts; water power; water wheels; pumps and pumping machinery; reciprocating pumps; hydraulic power transmission; hydraulic mining; canals; ditches; conduits and pipe lines; marine hydraulics; tidal and sea wave power, etc. pages. price =$ . = ~ice and refrigeration~ =pocketbook of refrigeration and ice making.= by a. j. wallis-taylor. this is one of the latest and most comprehensive reference books published on the subject of refrigeration and cold storage. it explains the properties and refrigerating effect of the different fluids in use, the management of refrigerating machinery and the construction and insulation of cold rooms with their required pipe surface for different degrees of cold; freezing mixtures and non-freezing brines, temperatures of cold rooms for all kinds of provisions, cold storage charges for all classes of goods, ice making and storage of ice, data and memoranda for constant reference by refrigerating engineers, with nearly one hundred tables containing valuable references to every fact and condition required in the installment and operation of a refrigerating plant. new edition just published. price =$ . = ~inventions--patents~ =inventors' manual: how to make a patent pay.= this is a book designed as a guide to inventors in perfecting their inventions, taking out their patents and disposing of them. it is not in any sense a patent solicitor's circular nor a patent broker's advertisement. no advertisements of any description appear in the work. it is a book containing a quarter of a century's experience of a successful inventor, together with notes based upon the experience of many other inventors. among the subjects treated in this work are: how to invent. how to secure a good patent. value of good invention. how to exhibit an invention. how to interest capital. how to estimate the value of a patent. value of design patents. value of foreign patents. value of small inventions. advice on selling patents. advice on the formation of stock companies. advice on the formation of limited liability companies. advice on disposing of old patents. advice as to patent attorneys. advice as to selling agents. forms of assignments. license and contracts. state laws concerning patent rights. census of the united states by counts of over , population. revised edition. pages. price =$ . = ~knots~ =knots, splices and rope work.= by a. hyatt verrill. this is a practical book giving complete and simple directions for making all the most useful and ornamental knots in common use, with chapters on splicing, pointing, seizing, serving, etc. this book is fully illustrated with original engravings, which show how each knot, tie or splice is formed, and its appearance when finished. the book will be found of the greatest value to campers, yachtsmen, travelers, boy scouts, in fact, to anyone having occasion to use or handle rope or knots for any purpose. the book is thoroughly reliable and practical, and is not only a guide, but a teacher. it is the standard work on the subject. among the contents are: . cordage, kinds of rope. construction of rope, parts of rope cable and bolt rope. strength of rope, weight of rope. . simple knots and bends. terms used in handling rope. seizing rope. . ties and hitches. . noose, loops and mooring knots. . shortenings, grommets and salvages. . lashings, seizings and splices. . fancy knots and rope work. pages, original engravings. nd revised edition. price = cents= ~lathe work~ =lathe design, construction, and operation, with practical examples of lathe work.= by oscar e. perrigo. a new, revised edition, and the only complete american work on the subject, written by a man who knows not only how work ought to be done, but who also knows how to do it, and how to convey this knowledge to others. it is strictly up-to-date in its descriptions and illustrations. lathe history and the relations of the lathe to manufacturing are given; also a description of the various devices for feeds and thread-cutting mechanisms from early efforts in this direction to the present time. lathe design is thoroughly discussed, including back gearing, driving cones, thread-cutting gears, and all the essential elements of the modern lathe. the classification of lathes is taken up, giving the essential differences of the several types of lathes including, as is usually understood, engine lathes, bench lathes, speed lathes, forge lathes, gap lathes, pulley lathes, forming lathes, multiple-spindle lathes, rapid-reduction lathes, precision lathes, turret lathes, special lathes, electrically driven lathes, etc. in addition to the complete exposition on construction and design, much practical matter on lathe installation, care and operation has been incorporated in the enlarged new edition. all kinds of lathe attachments for drilling, milling, etc., are described and complete instructions are given to enable the novice machinist to grasp the art of lathe operation as well as the principles involved in design. a number of difficult machining operations are described at length and illustrated. the new edition has nearly pages and illustrations. price =$ . = what is said of this book: "this is a lathe book from beginning to end, and is just the kind of a book which one delights to consult--a masterly treatment of the subject in hand."--_engineering news._ "this work will be of exceptional interest to any one who is interested in lathe practice, as one very seldom sees such a complete treatise on a subject as this is on the lathe."--_canadian machinery._ =practical metal turning.= by joseph g. horner. a work of pages, fully illustrated, covering in a comprehensive manner the modern practice of machining metal parts in the lathe, including the regular engine lathe, its essential design, its uses, its tools, its attachments, and the manner of holding the work and performing the operations. the modernized engine lathe, its methods, tools and great range of accurate work. the turret lathe, its tools, accessories and methods of performing its functions. chapters on special work, grinding, tool holders, speeds, feeds, modern tool steels, etc. second edition =$ . = =turning and boring tapers.= by fred h. colvin. there are two ways to turn tapers; the right way and one other. this treatise has to do with the right way; it tells you how to start the work properly, how to set the lathe, what tools to use and how to use them, and forty and one other little things that you should know. fourth edition = cents= ~liquid air~ =liquid air and the liquefaction of gases.= by t. o'conor sloane. this book gives the history of the theory, discovery and manufacture of liquid air, and contains an illustrated description of all the experiments that have excited the wonder of audiences all over the country. it shows how liquid air, like water, is carried hundreds of miles and is handled in open buckets. it tells what may be expected from it in the near future. a book that renders simple one of the most perplexing chemical problems of the century. startling developments illustrated by actual experiments. it is not only a work of scientific interest and authority, but is intended for the general reader, being written in a popular style--easily understood by every one. second edition. pages. price =$ . = ~locomotive engineering~ =air-brake catechism.= by robert h. blackall. this book is a standard text-book. it covers the westinghouse air-brake equipment, including the no. and the no. e.-t. locomotive brake equipment; the k (quick service) triple valve for freight service; and the cross-compound pump. the operation of all parts of the apparatus is explained in detail, and a practical way of finding their peculiarities and defects, with a proper remedy, is given. it contains , questions with their answers, which will enable any railroad man to pass any examination on the subject of air brakes. endorsed and used by air-brake instructors and examiners on nearly every railroad in the united states. twenty-sixth edition. pages, fully illustrated with colored plates and diagrams. price =$ . = =american compound locomotives.= by fred h. colvin. the only book on compounds for the engineman or shopman that shows in a plain, practical way the various features of compound locomotives in use. shows how they are made, what to do when they break down or balk. contains sections as follows: a bit of history. theory of compounding steam cylinders. baldwin two-cylinder compound. pittsburg two-cylinder compound. rhode island compound. richmond compound. rogers compound. schenectady two-cylinder compound. vauclain compound. tandem compounds. baldwin tandem. the colvin-wightman tandem. schenectady tandem. balanced locomotives. baldwin balanced compound. plans for balancing. locating blows. breakdowns. reducing valves. drifting. valve motion. disconnecting. power of compound locomotives. practical notes. fully illustrated and containing ten special "duotone" inserts on heavy plate paper, showing different types of compounds. pages. price =$ . = =application of highly superheated steam to locomotives.= by robert garbe. a practical book which cannot be recommended too highly to those motive-power men who are anxious to maintain the highest efficiency in their locomotives. contains special chapters on generation of highly superheated steam; superheated steam and the two-cylinder simple engine; compounding and superheating; designs of locomotive superheaters; constructive details of locomotives using highly superheated steam. experimental and working results. illustrated with folding plates and tables. cloth. price =$ . = =combustion of coal and the prevention of smoke.= by wm. m. barr. this book has been prepared with special reference to the generation of heat by the combustion of the common fuels found in the united states and deals particularly with the conditions necessary to the economic and smokeless combustion of bituminous coal in stationary and locomotive steam boilers. presentation of this important subject is systematic and progressive. the arrangement of the book is in a series of practical questions to which are appended accurate answers, which describe in language free from technicalities the several processes involved in the furnace combustion of american fuels; it clearly states the essential requisites for perfect combustion, and points out the best methods of furnace construction for obtaining the greatest quantity of heat from any given quality of coal. nearly pages, fully illustrated. price =$ . = =diary of a round-house foreman.= by t. s. reilly. this is the greatest book of railroad experiences ever published. containing a fund of information and suggestions along the line of handling men, organizing, etc., that one cannot afford to miss. pages. price =$ . = =link motions, valves and valve setting.= by fred h. colvin, associate editor of "american machinist." a handy book for the engineer or machinist that clears up the mysteries of valve setting. shows the different valve gears in use, how they work, and why. piston and slide valves of different types are illustrated and explained. a book that every railroad man in the motive-power department ought to have. contains chapters on locomotive link motion, valve movements, setting slide valves, analysis by diagrams, modern practice, slip of block, slice valves, piston valves, setting piston valves, joy-allen valve gear, walschaert valve gear, gooch valve gear, alfree-hubbell valve gear, etc., etc. fully illustrated. price = cents= =locomotive boiler construction.= by frank a. kleinhans. the construction of boilers in general is treated and, following this, the locomotive boiler is taken up in the order in which its various parts go through the shop. shows all types of boilers used; gives details of construction; practical facts, such as life of riveting, punches and dies; work done per day, allowance for bending and flanging sheets and other data. including the recent locomotive boiler inspection laws and examination questions with their answers for government inspectors. contains chapters on laying-out work; flanging and forging; punching; shearing; plate planing; general tables; finishing parts; bending; machinery parts; riveting; boiler details; smoke-box details; assembling and calking; boiler-shop machinery, etc., etc. there isn't a man who has anything to do with boiler work, either new or repair work, who doesn't need this book. the manufacturer, superintendent, foreman and boiler worker--all need it. no matter what the type of boiler, you'll find a mint of information that you wouldn't be without. over pages, five large folding plates. price =$ . = =locomotive breakdowns and their remedies.= by geo. l. fowler. revised by wm. w. wood, air-brake instructor. just issued. revised pocket edition. it is out of the question to try and tell you about every subject that is covered in this pocket edition of locomotive breakdowns. just imagine all the common troubles that an engineer may expect to happen some time, and then add all of the unexpected ones, troubles that could occur, but that you have never thought about, and you will find that they are all treated with the very best methods of repair. walschaert locomotive valve gear troubles, electric headlight troubles, as well as questions and answers on the air brake are all included. pages. th revised edition. fully illustrated. price =$ . = =locomotive catechism.= by robert grimshaw. the revised edition of "locomotive catechism," by robert grimshaw, is a new book from cover to cover. it contains twice as many pages and double the number of illustrations of previous editions. includes the greatest amount of practical information ever published on the construction and management of modern locomotives. specially prepared chapters on the walschaert locomotive valve gear, the air-brake equipment and the electric headlight are given. it commends itself at once to every engineer and fireman, and to all who are going in for examination or promotion. in plain language, with full, complete answers, not only all the questions asked by the examining engineer are given, but those which the young and less experienced would ask the veteran, and which old hands ask as "stickers." it is a veritable encyclopedia of the locomotive, is entirely free from mathematics, easily understood and thoroughly up to date. contains over , examination questions with their answers. pages, illustrations, and folding plates. th revised edition. price =$ . = =practical instructor and reference book for locomotive firemen and engineers.= by chas. f. lockhart. an entirely new book on the locomotive. it appeals to every railroad man, as it tells him how things are done and the right way to do them. written by a man who has had years of practical experience in locomotive shops and on the road firing and running. the information given in this book cannot be found in any other similar treatise. eight hundred and fifty-one questions with their answers are included, which will prove specially helpful to those preparing for examination. practical information on: the construction and operation of locomotives, breakdowns and their remedies, air brakes and valve gears. rules and signals are handled in a thorough manner. as a book of reference it cannot be excelled. the book is divided into six parts, as follows: . the fireman's duties. . general description of the locomotive. . breakdowns and their remedies. . air brakes. . extracts from standard rules. . questions for examination. the questions have been carefully selected and arranged. these cover the examinations required by the different railroads. pages, illustrations. price =$ . = =prevention of railroad accidents, or safety in railroading.= by george bradshaw. this book is a heart-to-heart talk with railroad employees, dealing with facts, not theories, and showing the men in the ranks, from every-day experience, how accidents occur and how they may be avoided. the book is illustrated with seventy original photographs and drawings showing the safe and unsafe methods of work. no visionary schemes, no ideal pictures. just plain facts and practical suggestions are given. every railroad employee who reads the book is a better and safer man to have in railroad service. it gives just the information which will be the means of preventing many injuries and deaths. all railroad employees should procure a copy, read it, and do their part in preventing accidents. pages. pocket size. fully illustrated. price = cents= =train rule examinations made easy.= by g. e. collingwood. this is the only practical work on train rules in print. every detail is covered, and puzzling points are explained in simple, comprehensive language, making it a practical treatise for the train dispatcher, engineman, trainman, and all others who have to do with the movements of trains. contains complete and reliable information of the standard code of train rules for single track. shows signals in colors, as used on the different roads. explains fully the practical application of train orders, giving a clear and definite understanding of all orders which may be used. the meaning and necessity for certain rules are explained in such a manner that the student may know beyond a doubt the rights conferred under any orders he may receive or the action required by certain rules. as nearly all roads require trainmen to pass regular examinations, a complete set of examination questions, with their answers, are included. these will enable the student to pass the required examinations with credit to himself and the road for which he works. nd edition, revised. pages, fully illustrated, with train signals in colors. price =$ . = =the walschaert and other modern radial valve gears for locomotives.= by wm. w. wood. if you would thoroughly understand the walschaert valve gear you should possess a copy of this book, as the author takes the plainest form of a steam engine--a stationary engine in the rough, that will only turn its crank in one direction--and from it builds up, with the reader's help, a modern locomotive equipped with the walschaert valve gear, complete. the points discussed are clearly illustrated: two large folding plates that show the positions of the valves of both inside or outside admission type, as well as the links and other parts of the gear when the crank is at nine different points in its revolution, are especially valuable in making the movement clear. these employ sliding cardboard models which are contained in a pocket in the cover. the book is divided into five general divisions, as follows: . analysis of the gear. . designing and erecting the gear. . advantages of the gear. . questions and answers relating to the walschaert valve gear. . setting valves with the walschaert valve gear; the three primary types of locomotive valve motion; modern radial valve gears other than the walschaert; the hobart all-free valve and valve gear, with questions and answers on breakdowns; the baker-pilliod valve gear; the improved baker-pilliod valve gear, with questions and answers on breakdowns. the questions with full answers given will be especially valuable to firemen and engineers in preparing for an examination for promotion. pages. rd revised edition. price =$ . = =westinghouse e-t air-brake instruction pocket book.= by wm. w. wood, air-brake instructor. here is a book for the railroad man, and the man who aims to be one. it is without doubt the only complete work published on the westinghouse e-t locomotive brake equipment. written by an air-brake instructor who knows just what is needed. it covers the subject thoroughly. everything about the new westinghouse engine and tender brake equipment, including the standard no. and the perfected no. style of brake, is treated in detail. written in plain english and profusely illustrated with colored plates, which enable one to trace the flow of pressures throughout the entire equipment. the best book ever published on the air brake. equally good for the beginner and the advanced engineer. will pass any one through any examination. it informs and enlightens you on every point. indispensable to every engineman and trainman. contains examination questions and answers on the e-t equipment. covering what the e-t brake is. how it should be operated. what to do when defective. not a question can be asked of the engineman up for promotion, on either the no. or the no. e-t equipment, that is not asked and answered in the book. if you want to thoroughly understand the e-t equipment get a copy of this book. it covers every detail. makes air-brake troubles and examinations easy. price =$ . = ~machine-shop practice~ =american tool making and interchangeable manufacturing.= by j. v. woodworth. a "shoppy" book, containing no theorizing, no problematical or experimental devices. there are no badly proportioned and impossible diagrams, no catalogue cuts, but a valuable collection of drawings and descriptions of devices, the rich fruits of the author's own experience. in its -odd pages the one subject only, tool making, and whatever relates thereto, is dealt with. the work stands without a rival. it is a complete, practical treatise, on the art of american tool making and system of interchangeable manufacturing as carried on to-day in the united states. in it are described and illustrated all of the different types and classes of small tools, fixtures, devices, and special appliances which are in general use in all machine-manufacturing and metal-working establishments where economy, capacity, and interchangeability in the production of machined metal parts are imperative. the science of jig making is exhaustively discussed, and particular attention is paid to drill jigs, boring, profiling and milling fixtures and other devices in which the parts to be machined are located and fastened within the contrivances. all of the tools, fixtures, and devices illustrated and described have been or are used for the actual production of work, such as parts of drill presses, lathes, patented machinery, typewriters, electrical apparatus, mechanical appliances, brass goods, composition parts, mould products, sheet-metal articles, drop-forgings, jewelry, watches, medals, coins, etc. pages. price =$ . = =henley's encyclopedia of practical engineering and allied trades.= edited by joseph g. horner, a.m.i., m.e. this set of five volumes contains about , pages with thousands of illustrations, including diagrammatic and sectional drawings with full explanatory details. this work covers the entire practice of civil and mechanical engineering. the best known experts in all branches of engineering have contributed to these volumes. the cyclopedia is admirably well adapted to the needs of the beginner and the self-taught practical man, as well as the mechanical engineer, designer, draftsman, shop superintendent, foreman, and machinist. the work will be found a means of advancement to any progressive man. it is encyclopedic in scope, thorough and practical in its treatment on technical subjects, simple and clear in its descriptive matter, and without unnecessary technicalities or formulæ. the articles are as brief as may be and yet give a reasonably clear and explicit statement of the subject, and are written by men who have had ample practical experience in the matters of which they write. it tells you all you want to know about engineering and tells it so simply, so clearly, so concisely, that one cannot help but understand. as a work of reference it is without a peer. complete set of five volumes, price =$ . = =the modern machinist.= by john t. usher. this is a book, showing by plain description and by profuse engravings made expressly for the work, all that is best, most advanced, and of the highest efficiency in modern machine-shop practice, tools and implements, showing the way by which and through which, as mr. maxim says "american machinists have become and are the finest mechanics in the world." indicating as it does, in every line, the familiarity of the author with every detail of daily experience in the shop, it cannot fail to be of service to any man practically connected with the shaping or finishing of metals. there is nothing experimental or visionary about the book, all devices being in actual use and giving good results. it might be called a compendium of shop methods, showing a variety of special tools and appliances which will give new ideas to many mechanics, from the superintendent down to the man at the bench. it will be found a valuable addition to any machinist's library, and should be consulted whenever a new or difficult job is to be done, whether it is boring, milling, turning, or planing, as they are all treated m a practical manner. fifth edition. pages. illustrations. price =$ . = =the whole field of mechanical movements covered by mr. hiscox's two books= _we publish two books by gardner d. hiscox that will keep you from "inventing" things that have been done before, and suggest ways of doing things that you have not thought of before. many a man spends time and money pondering over some mechanical problem, only to learn, after he has solved the problem, that the same thing has been accomplished and put in practice by others long before. time and money spent in an effort to accomplish what has already been accomplished are time and money lost. the whole field of mechanics, every known mechanical movement, and practically every device are covered by these two books. if the thing you want has been invented, it is illustrated in them. if it hasn't been invented, then you'll find in them the nearest things to what you want, some movements or devices that will apply in your case, perhaps; or which will give you a key from which to work. no book or set of books ever published is of more real value to the inventor, draftsman, or practical mechanic than the two volumes described below._ =mechanical movements, powers, and devices.= by gardner d. hiscox. this is a collection of , engravings of different mechanical motions and appliances, accompanied by appropriate text, making it a book of great value to the inventor, the draftsman, and to all readers with mechanical tastes. the book is divided into eighteen sections or chapters, in which the subject-matter is classified under the following heads: mechanical powers; transmission of power; measurement of power; steam power; air power appliances; electric power and construction; navigation and roads; gearing; motion and devices; controlling motion; horological; mining; mill and factory appliances; construction and devices; drafting devices; miscellaneous devices, etc. th edition. octavo pages. price =$ . = =mechanical appliances, mechanical movements and novelties of construction.= by gardner d. hiscox. this is a supplementary volume to the one upon mechanical movements. unlike the first volume, which is more elementary in character, this volume contains illustrations and descriptions of many combinations of motions and of mechanical devices and appliances found in different lines of machinery, each device being shown by a line drawing with a description showing its working parts and the method of operation. from the multitude of devices described and illustrated might be mentioned, in passing, such items as conveyors and elevators, pony brakes, thermometers, various types of boilers, solar engines, oil-fuel burners, condensers, evaporators, corliss and other valve gears, governors, gas engines, water motors of various descriptions, air ships, motors and dynamos, automobile and motor bicycles, railway lock signals, car couplers, link and gear motions, ball bearings, breech-block mechanism for heavy guns, and a large accumulation of others of equal importance. one thousand specially made engravings. octavo pages. fourth edition. price =$ . = =machine-shop tools and shop practice.= by w. h. vandervoort. a work of pages and illustrations, describing in every detail the construction, operation and manipulation of both hand and machine tools. includes chapters on filing, fitting and scraping surfaces; on drills, reamers, taps and dies; the lathe and its tools: planers, shapers, and their tools; milling machines and cutters; gear cutters and gear cutting; drilling machines and drill work; grinding machines and their work; hardening and tempering; gearing, belting and transmission machinery; useful data and tables. sixth edition. price =$ . = =machine-shop arithmetic.= by colvin-cheney. this is an arithmetic of the things you have to do with daily. it tells you plainly about: how to find areas in figures; how to find surface or volume of balls or spheres; handy ways for calculating; about compound gearing; cutting screw threads on any lathe; drilling for taps; speeds of drills; taps, emery wheels, grindstones, milling cutters, etc.; all about the metric system with conversion tables; properties of metals; strength of bolts and nuts; decimal equivalent of an inch. all sorts of machine-shop figuring and , other things, any one of which ought to be worth more than the price of this book to you, as it saves you the trouble of bothering the boss. th edition. pages. price = cents= =modern machine-shop construction, equipment and management.= by oscar e. perrigo. the only work published that describes the modern shop or manufacturing plant from the time the grass is growing on the site intended for it until the finished product is shipped. just the book needed by those contemplating the erection of modern shop buildings, the rebuilding and reorganization of old ones, or the introduction of modern shop methods, time and cost systems. it is a book written and illustrated by a practical shop man for practical shop men who are too busy to read theories and want facts. it is the most complete all-round book of its kind ever published. second edition, revised. large quarto pages. original and specially made illustrations. nd revised and enlarged edition. price =$ . = =modern milling machines: their design, construction, and operation.= by joseph g. horner. this book describes and illustrates the milling machine and its work in such a plain, clear and forceful manner, and illustrates the subject so clearly and completely, that the up-to-date machinist, student or mechanical engineer cannot afford to do without the valuable information which it contains. it describes not only the early machines of this class, but notes their gradual development into the splendid machines of the present day, giving the design and construction of the various types, forms, and special features produced by prominent manufacturers, american and foreign. pages, illustrations. cloth. price =$ . = ="shop kinks."= by robert grimshaw. a book of pages and illustrations, being entirely different from any other book on machine-shop practice. departing from conventional style, the author avoids universal or common shop usage and limits his work to showing special ways of doing things better, more cheaply and more rapidly than usual. as a result the advanced methods of representative establishments of the world are placed at the disposal of the reader. this book shows the proprietor where large savings are possible, and how products may be improved. to the employee it holds out suggestions that, properly applied, will hasten his advancement. no shop can afford to be without it. it bristles with valuable wrinkles and helpful suggestions. it will benefit all, from apprentice to proprietor. every machinist, at any age, should study its pages. fifth edition. price =$ . = =threads and thread cutting.= by colvin and stabel. this clears up many of the mysteries of thread-cutting, such as double and triple threads, internal threads, catching threads, use of hobs, etc. contains a lot of useful hints and several tables. third edition. price = cents= ~manual training~ =economics of manual training.= by louis rouillion. the only book published that gives just the information needed by all interested in manual training, regarding buildings, equipment, and supplies. shows exactly what is needed for all grades of the work from the kindergarten to the high and normal school. gives itemized lists of everything used in manual training work and tells just what it ought to cost. also shows where to buy supplies, etc. contains pages, and is fully illustrated. second edition. price =$ . = ~marine engineering~ =the naval architect's and shipbuilder's pocket book of formulæ, rules, and tables and marine engineer's and surveyor's handy book of reference.= by clement mackrow and lloyd woollard. the eleventh revised and enlarged edition of this most comprehensive work has just been issued. it is absolutely indispensable to all engaged in the shipbuilding industry, as it condenses into a compact form all data and formulæ that are ordinarily required. the book is completely up to date, including among other subjects a section on aeronautics. pages, limp leather binding. price =$ . net= =marine engines and boilers: their design and construction.= by dr. g. bauer, leslie s. robertson and s. bryan donkin. in the words of dr. bauer, the present work owes its origin to an oft felt want of a condensed treatise embodying the theoretical and practical rules used in designing marine engines and boilers. the need of such a work has been felt by most engineers engaged in the construction and working of marine engines, not only by the younger men, but also by those of greater experience. the fact that the original german work was written by the chief engineer of the famous vulcan works, stettin, is in itself a guarantee that this book is in all respects thoroughly up-to-date, and that it embodies all the information which is necessary for the design and construction of the highest types of marine engines and boilers. it may be said that the motive power which dr. bauer has placed in the fast german liners that have been turned out of late years from the stettin works represent the very best practice in marine engineering of the present day. the work is clearly written, thoroughly systematic, theoretically sound; while the character of the plans, drawings, tables, and statistics is without reproach. the illustrations are careful reproductions from actual working drawings, with some well-executed photographic views of completed engines and boilers. pages, illustrations and numerous tables. cloth. price =$ . net= ~mining~ =ore deposits, with a chapter on hints to prospectors.= by j. p. johnson. this book gives a condensed account of the ore deposits at present known in south africa. it is also intended as a guide to the prospector. only an elementary knowledge of geology and some mining experience are necessary in order to understand this work. with these qualifications, it will materially assist one in his search for metalliferous mineral occurrences and, so far as simple ores are concerned, should enable one to form some idea of the possibilities of any he may find. illustrated. cloth. price =$ . = =practical coal mining.= by t. h. cockin. an important work, containing pages and illustrations, complete with practical details, which will intuitively impart to the reader not only a general knowledge of the principles of coal mining, but also considerable insight into allied subjects. the treatise is positively up-to-date in every instance, and should be in the hands of every colliery engineer, geologist, mine operator, superintendent, foreman, and all others who are interested in or connected with the industry. d edition. cloth. price =$ . = =physics and chemistry of mining.= by t. h. byrom. a practical work for the use of all preparing for examinations in mining or qualifying for colliery managers' certificates. the aim of the author in this excellent book is to place clearly before the reader useful and authoritative data which will render him valuable assistance in his studies. the only work of its kind published. the information incorporated in it will prove of the greatest practical utility to students, mining engineers, colliery managers, and all others who are specially interested in the present-day treatment of mining problems. pages, illustrated. price =$ . = ~pattern making~ =practical pattern making.= by f. w. barrows. this book, now in its second edition, is a comprehensive and entirely practical treatise on the subject of pattern making, illustrating pattern work in both wood and metal, and with definite instructions on the use of plaster of paris in the trade. it gives specific and detailed descriptions of the materials used by pattern makers, and describes the tools, both those for the bench and the more interesting machine tools, having complete chapters on the lathe, the circular saw, and the band saw. it gives many examples of pattern work, each one fully illustrated and explained with much detail. these examples, in their great variety, offer much that will be found of interest to all pattern makers, and especially to the younger ones, who are seeking information on the more advanced branches of their trade. in this second edition of the work will be found much that is new, even to those who have long practised this exacting trade. in the description of patterns as adapted to the moulding machine many difficulties which have long prevented the rapid and economical production of castings are overcome; and this great, new branch of the trade is given much space. stripping plate and stool plate work and the less expensive vibrator, or rapping plate work, are all explained in detail. plain, every-day rules for lessening the cost of patterns, with a complete system of cost keeping, a detailed method of marking, applicable to all branches of the trade, with complete information showing what the pattern is, its specific title, its cost, date of production, material of which it is made, the number of pieces and core-boxes, and its location in the pattern safe, all condensed into a most complete card record, with cross index. the book closes with an original and practical method for the inventory and valuation of patterns. containing nearly pages and illustrations. price =$ . = ~perfumery~ =perfumes and cosmetics: their preparation and manufacture.= by g. w. askinson, perfumer. a comprehensive treatise, in which there has been nothing omitted that could be of value to the perfumer or manufacturer of toilet preparations. complete directions for making handkerchief perfumes, smelling-salts, sachets, fumigating pastilles; preparations for the care of the skin, the mouth, the hair, cosmetics, hair dyes and other toilet articles are given, also a detailed description of aromatic substances; their nature, tests of purity, and wholesome manufacture, including a chapter on synthetic products, with formulas for their use. a book of general as well as professional interest, meeting the wants not only of the druggist and perfume manufacturer, but also of the general public. among the contents are: . the history of perfumery. . about aromatic substances in general. . odors from the vegetable kingdom. . the aromatic vegetable substances employed in perfumery. . the animal substances used in perfumery. . the chemical products used in perfumery. . the extraction of odors. . the special characteristics of aromatic substances. the adulteration of essential oils and their recognition. . synthetic products. . table of physical properties of aromatic chemicals. . the essences or extracts employed in perfumery. . directions for making the most important essences and extracts. . the division of perfumery. . the manufacture of handkerchief perfumes. . formulas for handkerchief perfumes. . ammoniacal and acid perfumes. . dry perfumes. . formulas for dry perfumes. . the perfumes used for fumigation. . antiseptic and therapeutic value of perfumes. . classification of odors. . some special perfumery products. . hygiene and cosmetic perfumery. . preparations for the care of the skin. . manufacture of casein. . formulas for emulsions. . formulas for cream. . formulas for meals, pastes and vegetable milk. . preparations used for the hair. . formulas for hair tonics and restorers. . pomades and hair oils . formulas for the manufacture of pomades and hair oils. . hair dyes and depilatories. . wax pomades, bandolines and brilliantines. . skin cosmetics and face lotions. . preparations for the nails. . water softeners and bath salts. . preparations for the care of the mouth. . the colors used in perfumery. . the utensils used in the toilet. fourth edition, much enlarged and brought up to date. nearly pages, illustrated. price =$ . = what is said of this book: "the most satisfactory work on the subject of perfumery that we have ever seen." "we feel safe in saying that here is a book on perfumery that will not disappoint you, for it has practical and excellent formulæ that are within your ability to prepare readily." "we recommend the volume as worthy of confidence, and say that no purchaser will be disappointed in securing from its pages good value for its cost, and a large dividend on the same, even if he should use but one per cent. of its working formulæ. there is money in it for every user of its information."--_pharmaceutical record._ ~plumbing~ =mechanical drawing for plumbers.= by r. m. starbuck. a concise, comprehensive and practical treatise on the subject of mechanical drawing in its various modern applications to the work of all who are in any way connected with the plumbing trade. nothing will so help the plumber in estimating and in explaining work to customers and workmen as a knowledge of drawing, and to the workman it is of inestimable value if he is to rise above his position to positions of greater responsibility. among the chapters contained are: . value to plumber of knowledge of drawing; tools required and their use; common views needed in mechanical drawing. . perspective versus mechanical drawing in showing plumbing construction. . correct and incorrect methods in plumbing drawing; plan and elevation explained. . floor and cellar plans and elevation; scale drawings; use of triangles. . use of triangles; drawing of fittings, traps, etc. . drawing plumbing elevations and fittings. . instructions in drawing plumbing elevations. . the drawing of plumbing fixtures; scale drawings. . drawings of fixtures and fittings. . inking of drawings. . shading of drawings. . shading of drawings. . sectional drawings; drawing of threads. . plumbing elevations from architect's plan. . elevations of separate parts of the plumbing system. . elevations from the architect's plans. . drawings of detail plumbing connections. . architect's plans and plumbing elevations of residence. . plumbing elevations of residence (_continued_); plumbing plans for cottage. . plumbing elevations; roof connections. . plans and plumbing elevations for six-flat building. . drawing of various parts of the plumbing system; use of scales. . use of architect's scales. . special features in the illustrations of country plumbing. . drawing of wrought-iron piping, valves, radiators, coils, etc. . drawing of piping to illustrate heating systems. illustrations. price =$ . = =modern plumbing illustrated.= by r. m. starbuck. this book represents the highest standard of plumbing work. it has been adopted and used as a reference book by the united states government in its sanitary work in cuba, porto rico and the philippines, and by the principal boards of health of the united states and canada. it gives connections, sizes and working data for all fixtures and groups of fixtures. it is helpful to the master plumber in demonstrating to his customers and in figuring work. it gives the mechanic and student quick and easy access to the best modern plumbing practice. suggestions for estimating plumbing construction are contained in its pages. this book represents, in a word, the latest and best up-to-date practice and should be in the hands of every architect, sanitary engineer and plumber who wishes to keep himself up to the minute on this important feature of construction. contains following chapters, each illustrated with a full-page plate: kitchen sink, laundry tubs, vegetable wash sink; lavatories, pantry sinks, contents of marble slabs; bath tub, foot and sitz bath, shower bath; water closets, venting of water closets; low-down water closets, water closets operated by flush valves, water closet range; slop sink, urinals, the bidet; hotel and restaurant sink, grease trap; refrigerators, safe wastes, laundry waste, lines of refrigerators, bar sinks, soda fountain sinks; horse stall, frost-proof water closets; connections for s traps, venting; connections for drum traps; soil-pipe connections; supporting of soil pipe; main trap and fresh-air inlet: floor drains and cellar drains, subsoil drainage; water closets and floor connections; local venting; connections for bath rooms; connections for bath rooms, _continued_; examples of poor practice; roughing work ready for test; testing of plumbing systems; method of continuous venting; continuous venting for two-floor work; continuous venting for two lines of fixtures on three or more floors; continuous venting of water closets; plumbing for cottage house; construction for cellar piping; plumbing for residence, use of special fittings; plumbing for two-flat house: plumbing for apartment building, plumbing for double apartment building; plumbing for office building; plumbing for public toilet rooms; plumbing for public toilet rooms, _continued_; plumbing for bath establishment; plumbing for engine house, factory plumbing, automatic flushing for schools, factories, etc.; use of flushing valves; urinals for public toilet rooms; the durham system, the destruction of pipes by electrolysis; construction of work without use of lead; automatic sewage lift; automatic sump tank; country plumbing; construction of cesspools; septic tank and automatic sewage siphon; water supply for country house; thawing of water mains and service by electricity; double boilers; hot water supply of large buildings; automatic control of hot-water tank; suggestions for estimating plumbing construction. octavo pages, fully illustrated by full-page engravings. third, revised and enlarged edition, just issued. price =$ . = =standard practical plumbing.= by r. m. starbuck. a complete practical treatise of pages, covering the subject of modern plumbing in all its branches, a large amount of space being devoted to a very complete and practical treatment of the subject of hot water supply and circulation and range boiler work. its thirty chapters include about every phase of the subject one can think of, making it an indispensable work to the master plumber, the journeyman plumber, and the apprentice plumber, containing chapters on: the plumber's tools; wiping solder; composition and use; joint wiping; lead work; traps; siphonage of traps; venting; continuous venting; house sewer and sewer connections; house drain; soil piping, roughing; main trap and fresh air inlet; floor, yard, cellar drains, rain leaders, etc.; fixture wastes; water closets; ventilation; improved plumbing connections; residence plumbing; plumbing for hotels, schools, factories, stables, etc.; modern country plumbing; filtration of sewage and water supply; hot and cold supply; range boilers; circulation; circulating pipes; range boiler problems; hot water for large buildings; water lift and its use; multiple connections for hot water boilers; heating of radiation by supply system; theory for the plumber; drawing for the plumber. fully illustrated by engravings. price =$ . = ~recipe book~ =henley's twentieth century book of recipes, formulas and processes.= edited by gardner d. hiscox. the most valuable techno-chemical formula book published, including over , selected scientific, chemical, technological, and practical recipes and processes. this is the most complete book of formulas ever published, giving thousands of recipes for the manufacture of valuable articles for everyday use. hints, helps, practical ideas, and secret processes are revealed within its pages. it covers every branch of the useful arts and tells thousands of ways of making money, and is just the book everyone should have at his command. modern in its treatment of every subject that properly falls within its scope, the book may truthfully be said to present the very latest formulas to be found in the arts and industries, and to retain those processes which long experience has proven worthy of a permanent record. to present here even a limited number of the subjects which find a place in this valuable work would be difficult. suffice to say that in its pages will be found matter of intense interest and immeasurably practical value to the scientific amateur and to him who wishes to obtain a knowledge of the many processes used in the arts, trades and manufacture, a knowledge which will render his pursuits more instructive and remunerative. serving as a reference book to the small and large manufacturer and supplying intelligent seekers with the information necessary to conduct a process, the work will be found of inestimable worth to the metallurgist, the photographer, the perfumer, the painter, the manufacturer of glues, pastes, cements, and mucilages, the compounder of alloys, the cook, the physician, the druggist, the electrician, the brewer, the engineer, the foundryman, the machinist, the potter, the tanner, the confectioner, the chiropodist, the manicurist, the manufacturer of chemical novelties and toilet preparations, the dyer, the electroplater, the enameler, the hat maker, the ink manufacturer, the optician, the farmer, the dairyman, the paper maker, the wood and metal worker, the chandler and soap maker, the veterinary surgeon, and the technologist in general. a mine of information, and up-to-date in every respect. a book which will prove of value to everyone, as it covers every branch of the useful arts. every home needs this book; every office, every factory, every store, every public and private enterprise--everywhere--should have a copy. pages. price =$ . = what is said of this book: "your twentieth century book of recipes, formulas, and processes duly received. i am glad to have a copy of it, and if i could not replace it, money couldn't buy it. it is the best thing of the sort i ever saw." (signed) m. e. trux, sparta, wis. "there are few persons who would not be able to find in the book some single formula that would repay several times the cost of the book."--_merchants' record and show window._ "i purchased your book, 'henley's twentieth century book of recipes, formulas and processes,' about a year ago and it is worth its weight in _gold_."--wm. h. murray, bennington, vt. "one of the world's most useful books" "some time ago i got one of your 'twentieth century books of formulas,' and have made my living from it ever since. i am alone since my husband's death with two small children to care for and am trying so hard to support them. i have customers who take from me toilet articles i put up, following directions given in the book, and i have found everyone of them to be fine."--mrs. j. h. mcmaken, west toledo, ohio. ~rubber~ =rubber hand stamps and the manipulation of india rubber.= by t. o'conor sloane. this book gives full details on all points, treating in a concise and simple manner the elements of nearly everything it is necessary to understand for a commencement in any branch of the india rubber manufacture. the making of all kinds of rubber hand stamps, small articles of india rubber, u. s. government composition, dating hand stamps, the manipulation of sheet rubber, toy balloons, india rubber solutions, cements, blackings, renovating, varnish, and treatment for india rubber shoes, etc.; the hektograph stamp inks, and miscellaneous notes, with a short account of the discovery, collection and manufacture of india rubber, are set forth in a manner designed to be readily understood, the explanations being plain and simple. including a chapter on rubber tire making and vulcanizing; also a chapter on the uses of rubber in surgery and dentistry. rd revised and enlarged edition. pages. illustrated =$ . = ~saws~ =saw filing and management of saws.= by robert grimshaw. a practical hand-book on filing, gumming, swaging, hammering, and the brazing of band saws, the speed, work, and power to run circular saws, etc. a handy book for those who have charge of saws, or for those mechanics who do their own filing, as it deals with the proper shape and pitches of saw teeth of all kinds and gives many useful hints and rules for gumming, setting, and filing, and is a practical aid to those who use saws for any purpose. complete tables of proper shape, pitch, and saw teeth as well as sizes and number of teeth of various saws are included. rd edition, revised and enlarged. illustrated. price =$ . = ~steam engineering~ =american stationary engineering.= by w. e. crane. this book begins at the boiler room and takes in the whole power plant. a plain talk on every-day work about engines, boilers, and their accessories. it is not intended to be scientific or mathematical. all formulas are in simple form so that any one understanding plain arithmetic can readily understand any of them. the author has made this the most practical book in print; has given the results of his years of experience, and has included about all that has to do with an engine room or a power plant. you are not left to guess at a single point. you are shown clearly what to expect under the various conditions; how to secure the best results; ways of preventing "shut downs" and repairs; in short, all that goes to make up the requirements of a good engineer, capable of taking charge of a plant. it's plain enough for practical men and yet of value to those high in the profession. a partial list of contents is: the boiler room, cleaning boilers, firing, feeding; pumps, inspection and repair; chimneys, sizes and cost; piping; mason work; foundations; testing cement; pile driving; engines, slow and high speed; valves; valve setting; corliss engines, setting valves, single and double eccentric; air pumps and condensers; different types of condensers; water needed; lining up; pounds; pins not square in crosshead or crank; engineers' tools; pistons and piston rings; bearing metal; hardened copper; drip pipes from cylinder jacket; belts, how made, care of; oils; greases; testing lubricants; rules and tables, including steam tables; areas of segments; squares and square roots; cubes and cube root; areas and circumferences of circles. notes on: brick work; explosions; pumps; pump valves; heaters, economizers; safety valves; lap, lead, and clearance. has a complete examination for a license, etc., etc. rd edition. pages, illustrated. price =$ . = =engine runner's catechism.= by robert grimshaw. a practical treatise for the stationary engineer, telling how to erect, adjust, and run the principal steam engines in use in the united states. describing the principal features of various special and well-known makes of engines: temper cut-off, shipping and receiving foundations, erecting and starting, valve setting, care and use, emergencies, erecting and adjusting special engines. the questions asked throughout the catechism are plain and to the point, and the answers are given in such simple language as to be readily understood by anyone. all the instructions given are complete and up-to-date; and they are written in a popular style, without any technicalities or mathematical formulæ. the work is of a handy size for the pocket, clearly and well printed, nicely bound, and profusely illustrated. to young engineers this catechism will be of great value, especially to those who may be preparing to go forward to be examined for certificates of competency; and to engineers generally it will be of no little service, as they will find in this volume more really practical and useful information than is to be found anywhere else within a like compass. pages. th edition. price =$ . = =modern steam engineering in theory and practice.= by gardner d. hiscox. this is a complete and practical work issued for stationary engineers and firemen, dealing with the care and management of boilers, engines, pumps, superheated steam, refrigerating machinery, dynamos, motors, elevators, air compressors, and all other branches with which the modern engineer must be familiar. nearly questions with their answers on steam and electrical engineering, likely to be asked by the examining board, are included. among the chapters are: historical: steam and its properties; appliances for the generation of steam; types of boilers; chimney and its work; heat economy of the feed water; steam pumps and their work; incrustation and its work; steam above atmospheric pressure; flow of steam from nozzles; superheated steam and its work; adiabatic expansion of steam; indicator and its work; steam engine proportions; slide valve engines and valve motion; corliss engine and its valve gear; compound engine and its theory; triple and multiple expansion engine; steam turbine; refrigeration; elevators and their management; cost of power; steam engine troubles; electric power and electric plants. pages, engravings. rd edition. price =$ . = =steam engine catechism.= by robert grimshaw. this unique volume of pages is not only a catechism on the question and answer principle but it contains formulas and worked-out answers for all the steam problems that appertain to operation and management of the steam engine. illustrations of various valves and valve gear with their principles of operation are given. thirty-four tables that are indispensable to every engineer and fireman that wishes to be progressive and is ambitious to become master of his calling are within its pages. it is a most valuable instructor in the service of steam engineering. leading engineers have recommended it as a valuable educator for the beginner as well as a reference book for the engineer. it is thoroughly indexed for every detail. every essential question on the steam engine with its answer is contained in this valuable work. th edition. price =$ . = =steam engineer's arithmetic.= by colvin-cheney. a practical pocket-book for the steam engineer. shows how to work the problems of the engine room and shows "why." tells how to figure horsepower of engines and boilers; area of boilers; has tables of areas and circumferences; steam tables; has a dictionary of engineering terms. puts you on to all of the little kinks in figuring whatever there is to figure around a power plant. tells you about the heat unit; absolute zero; adiabatic expansion; duty of engines; factor of safety; and a thousand and one other things; and everything is plain and simple--not the hardest way to figure, but the easiest. nd edition. price = cents= =engine tests and boiler efficiencies.= by j. buchetti. this work fully describes and illustrates the method of testing the power of steam engines, turbines and explosive motors. the properties of steam and the evaporative power of fuels. combustion of fuel and chimney draft; with formulas explained or practically computed. pages, illustrations. price =$ . = =horsepower chart.= shows the horsepower of any stationary engine without calculation. no matter what the cylinder diameter of stroke, the steam pressure of cut-off, the revolutions, or whether condensing or non-condensing, it's all there. easy to use. accurate, and saves time and calculations. especially useful to engineers and designers. price = cents= ~steam heating and ventilation~ =practical steam, hot-water heating and ventilation.= by a. g. king. this book is the standard and latest work published on the subject and has been prepared for the use of all engaged in the business of steam, hot-water heating, and ventilation. it is an original and exhaustive work. tells how to get heating contracts, how to install heating and ventilating apparatus, the best business methods to be used, with "tricks of the trade" for shop use. rules and data for estimating radiation and cost and such tables and information as make it an indispensable work for everyone interested in steam, hot-water heating, and ventilation. it describes all the principal systems of steam, hot-water, vacuum, vapor, and vacuum-vapor heating, together with the new accelerated systems of hot-water circulation, including chapters on up-to-date methods of ventilation and the fan or blower system of heating and ventilation. containing chapters on: i. introduction. ii. heat. iii. evolution of artificial heating apparatus. iv. boiler surface and settings. v. the chimney flue. vi. pipe and fittings. vii. valves, various kinds. viii. forms of radiating surfaces. ix. locating of radiating surfaces. x. estimating radiation. xi. steam-heating apparatus xii. exhaust-steam heating. xiii. hot-water heating. xiv. pressure systems of hot-water work. xv. hot-water appliances. xvi. greenhouse heating. xvii. vacuum vapor and vacuum exhaust heating. xviii. miscellaneous heating. xix. radiator and pipe connections. xx. ventilation. xxi. mechanical ventilation and hot-blast heating. xxii. steam appliances. xxiii. district heating. xxiv. pipe and boiler covering. xxv. temperature regulation and heat control. xxvi. business methods. xxvii. miscellaneous. xxviii. rules, tables, and useful information. pages, detailed engravings. nd edition--revised. price =$ . = =five hundred plain answers to direct questions on steam, hot-water, vapor and vacuum heating practice.= by alfred g. king. this work, just off the press, is arranged in question and answer form; it is intended as a guide and text-book for the younger, inexperienced fitter and as a reference book for all fitters. this book tells "how" and also tells "why". no work of its kind has ever been published. it answers all the questions regarding each method or system that would be asked by the steam fitter or heating contractor, and may be used as a text or reference book, and for examination questions by trade schools or steam fitters' associations. rules, data, tables and descriptive methods are given, together with much other detailed information of daily practical use to those engaged in or interested in the various methods of heating. valuable to those preparing for examinations. answers every question asked relating to modern steam, hot-water, vapor and vacuum heating. among the contents are: the theory and laws of heat. methods of heating. chimneys and flues. boilers for heating. boiler trimmings and settings. radiation. steam heating. boiler, radiator and pipe connections for steam heating. hot water heating. the two-pipe gravity system of hot water heating. the circuit system of hot water heating. the overhead system of hot water heating. boiler, radiator and pipe connections for gravity systems of hot water heating. accelerated hot water heating. expansion tank connections. domestic hot water heating. valves and air valves. vacuum vapor and vacuo-vapor heating. mechanical systems of vacuum heating. non-mechanical vacuum systems. vapor systems. atmospheric and modulating systems. heating greenhouses. information, rules and tables. pages, illustrations. octavo. cloth. price =$ . = ~steel~ =steel: its selection, annealing, hardening, and tempering.= by e. r. markham. this work was formerly known as "the american steel worker," but on the publication of the new, revised edition, the publishers deemed it advisable to change its title to a more suitable one. it is the standard work on hardening, tempering, and annealing steel of all kinds. this book tells how to select, and how to work, temper, harden, and anneal steel for everything on earth. it doesn't tell how to temper one class of tools and then leave the treatment of another kind of tool to your imagination and judgment, but it gives careful instructions for every detail of every tool, whether it be a tap, a reamer or just a screw-driver. it tells about the tempering of small watch springs, the hardening of cutlery, and the annealing of dies. in fact, there isn't a thing that a steel worker would want to know that isn't included. it is the standard book on selecting, hardening and tempering all grades of steel. among the chapter headings might be mentioned the following subjects: introduction; the workman; steel; methods of heating; heating tool steel; forging; annealing; hardening baths; baths for hardening; hardening steel; drawing the temper after hardening; examples of hardening; pack hardening; case hardening; spring tempering; making tools of machine steel; special steels; steel for various tools; causes of trouble; high-speed steels, etc. pages. very fully illustrated. fourth edition. price =$ . = =hardening, tempering, annealing, and forging of steel.= by j. v. woodworth. a new work treating in a clear, concise manner all modern processes for the heating, annealing, forging, welding, hardening and tempering of steel, making it a book of great practical value to the metal-working mechanic in general, with special directions for the successful hardening and tempering of all steel tools used in the arts, including milling cutters, taps, thread dies, reamers, both solid and shell, hollow mills, punches and dies, and all kinds of sheet-metal working tools, shear blades, saws, fine cutlery, and metal-cutting tools of all description, as well as for all implements of steel both large and small. in this work the simplest and most satisfactory hardening and tempering processes are given. the uses to which the leading brands of steel may be adapted are concisely presented, and their treatment for working under different conditions explained, also the special methods for the hardening and tempering of special brands. a chapter devoted to the different processes for case-hardening is also included, and special reference made to the adaptation of machinery steel for tools of various kinds, fourth edition. pages. illustrations. price =$ . = ~tractors~ =the modern gas tractor.= by victor w. pagÉ, m.e. a complete treatise describing all types and sizes of gasoline, kerosene and oil tractors. considers design and construction exhaustively, gives complete instructions for care, operation and repair, outlines all practical applications on the road and in the field. the best and latest work on farm tractors and tractor power plants. a work needed by farmers, students, blacksmiths, mechanics, salesmen, implement dealers, designers, and engineers. second edition, revised and enlarged. pages. nearly illustrations and folding plates. price =$ . = ~turbines~ =marine steam turbines.= by dr. g. bauer and o. lasche. assisted by e. ludwig and h. vogel. translated from the german and edited by m. g. s. swallow. the book is essentially practical and discusses turbines in which the full expansion of steam passes through a number of separate turbines arranged for driving two or more shafts, as in the parsons system, and turbines in which the complete expansion of steam from inlet to exhaust pressure occurs in a turbine on one shaft, as in the case of the curtis machines. it will enable a designer to carry out all the ordinary calculation necessary for the construction of steam turbines, hence it fills a want which is hardly met by larger and more theoretical works. numerous tables, curves and diagrams will be found, which explain with remarkable lucidity the reason why turbine blades are designed as they are, the course which steam takes through turbines of various types, the thermodynamics of steam turbine calculation, the influence of vacuum on steam consumption of steam turbines, etc. in a word, the very information which a designer and builder of steam turbines most requires. large octavo, pages. fully illustrated and containing eighteen tables, including an entropy chart. price, net =$ . = ~watch making~ =watchmaker's handbook.= by claudius saunier. no work issued can compare with this book for clearness and completeness. it contains pages and is intended as a workshop companion for those engaged in watch-making and allied mechanical arts. nearly engravings and fourteen plates are included. this is the standard work on watch-making. price =$ . = ~welding~ =automobile welding with the oxy-acetylene flame.= by m. keith dunham. explains in a simple manner apparatus to be used, its care, and how to construct necessary shop equipment. proceeds then to the actual welding of all automobile parts, in a manner understandable by every one. _gives principles never to be forgotten._ aluminum, cast iron, steel, copper, brass, bronze, and malleable iron are fully treated, as well as a clear explanation of the proper manner to burn the carbon out of the combustion head. this book is of utmost value, since the perplexing problems arising when metal is heated to a melting point are fully explained and the proper methods to overcome them shown. pages, fully illustrated. price =$ . = every practical man needs a magazine which will tell him how to make and do things _=have us enter your subscription to the best mechanical magazine on the market. only one dollar a year for twelve numbers. subscribe today to=_ =everyday engineering= a monthly magazine devoted to practical mechanics for everyday men. its aim is to popularize engineering as a science, teaching the elements of applied mechanics and electricity in a straightforward and understandable manner. the magazine maintains its own experimental laboratory where the devices described in articles submitted to the editor are first tried out and tested before they are published. this important innovation places the standard of the published material very high, and it insures accuracy and dependability. the magazine is the only one in this country that specializes in practical model building. articles in past issues have given comprehensive designs for many model boats, including submarines and chasers, model steam and gasoline engines, electric motors and generators, etc., etc. this feature is a permanent one in this magazine. another popular department is that devoted to automobiles and airplanes. care, maintenance, and operation receive full and authoritative treatment. every article is written from the practical, everyday man, standpoint rather than from that of the professional. the magazine entertains while it instructs. it is a journal of practical, dependable information given in such a style that it may be readily assimilated and applied by the man with little or no technical training. the aim is to place before the man who leans toward practical mechanics, a series of concise, crisp, readable talks on what is going on and _how it is done_. these articles are profusely illustrated with clear, snappy photographs, specially posed to illustrate the subject in the magazine's own studio by its own staff of technically-trained illustrators and editors. =the subscription price of the magazine is one dollar per year of twelve numbers. sample copy sent on receipt of ten cents.= enter your subscription to this practical magazine with your bookseller. =the norman w. henley publishing co.,= = west th street, new york= +-----------------------------------------------------------------+ | transcriber's notes | | | | general remarks: | | there are some differences in wording between the table of | | contents, the lists of sections per chapter, and the actual | | section titles. their meaning is clear, and they have been | | left as they were in the original work. | | page , table: fig. in the first column does not refer to | | fig. in this work. | | the original work does not have a figure . | | page , table: it is uncertain what "free with kerosene" | | means, there may be a word omitted. | | page , entirely censored. it is not clear what this page | | originally contained (possibly a table), since text and | | numbering of illustrations are uninterrupted. the text | | "censored" has been moved to after the first paragraph of the | | section on mercedes engines. | | the list of illustrations does not occur in the original work.| | | | changes made: | | the text of the original work (including inconsistencies in | | accents, spelling, hyphenation and lay-out, and differences | | between the main text, illustrations and advertisements) has | | been followed, except when listed below. only some minor | | obvious typographical errors have been corrected silently. | | where the author used x for multiplication, this has been | | replaced by × in the body of the text (not in the | | advertisements or illustrations). | | the illustrations have been moved so as not to disrupt the | | flow of the text. | | engine and aircraft types are not always named consistently in| | the original; curtiss engine o x , ox- and x have all | | been changed to ox- , curtiss aircraft jn and jn- to jn- . | | multi-page tables: repeated headings have been removed, and | | the tables treated as one consecutive table. | | page : "the product of" has been moved into the first | | formula. | | page : "when b × r = m" changed to "when p × r = m". | | page : ". ÷ = . " changed to ". ÷ . = | | . ". | | page (caption): "bavary" changed to "baverey" as | | elsewhere. | | page : "evidently" changed to "evident". | | page : "drop to o" changed to "drop to ". | | page : "actual from a common" changed to "actuated from a | | common". | | page : "values" changed to "valves". | | page : "fig. " changed to "fig. ". | | page : "fig. , b" changed to "fig. , c" ( nd | | reference). | | page : "rhone" changed to "le rhone" as elsewhere. | | page : "check values" changed to "check valves". | | page : "lerhone" changed to "le rhone" as elsewhere. | | page : "fig. , d" changed to "fig. , b". | | page : "stilson" changed to "stillson" as elsewhere. | | page : "both valves" changed to "both halves". | | page : "standard ratio is . " changed to "standard ratio | | is : ". | | page : "gallons per minute , r. p. m." changed to | | "gallons per minute at , r. p. m." | | page : "hispano suiza" changed to "hispano-suiza" as | | elsewhere. | | page : "diameter of crank-shaft, mm." changed to | | "diameter of crank-shaft, mm." | | page (advertisements): "hazlehurst field" changed to | | "hazelhurst field". | | page (advertisements): "rhose island compound" changed to | | "rhode island compound". | | index: "shebler" changed to "schebler", "camshaft" to | | "cam-shaft", "wristpin" to "wrist-pin", etc. (all as in text).| +-----------------------------------------------------------------+ the air mystery of isle la motte by e. j. craine author of cap rock flyers, the sky buddies secrets of cuzko, flying to amy-ran fastness, etc. the world syndicate publishing co. cleveland, ohio new york, n. y. made in u. s. a. copyright by the world syndicate publishing company press of the commercial bookbinding co. cleveland ------------------------------------------------------------------------ this is the first book of the sky buddies, jim austin and bob caldwell and their plane, properly christened "her highness" in which they encounter many thrilling and exciting adventures. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ contents i the step-brothers ii the three mysteries iii thundering waters iv a mysterious find v a discovery vi a capture vii a tail spin viii ablaze ix the mail must go through x danger xi the cry for help xii detectives ------------------------------------------------------------------------ the air mystery of isle la motte i the step-brothers "i say now, why are you fellows landing here?" the canadian mounted policeman reined in his horse as close to the cock-pit as he could get, and eyed the two occupants in the plane, which had just landed in the southern part of the province of quebec. "you want the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?" the blue-eyed youth in the passenger's seat drawled in an accent that could belong to only one part of the world, texas. "if you're telling it today," the mounty replied. "if not, we'll get it later." "very true, but you shall have it pronto. from an elevation of three thousand feet we observed you, so we came down to find out if you are riding a real horse, or merely an imitation--" "it isn't a bad plug," interrupted the pilot, whose eyes were blue and they rested with approval on the animal that had aroused their curiosity. "but, if you ever visit cap bock, we'll fork you on something superior--we have a pinto that can--" "now, look here, i'm not fooling. you hop out of that and give an account of yourselves," the mounty ordered firmly. "yes, sir." the two obeyed willingly enough and the man dismounted. when they took off their helmets he saw they were boys, both had tow heads, and they didn't look at all formidable or like a pair he might have to escort to headquarters. however, duty was duty and he wasn't making any snap judgments or taking needless risks. there was too much smuggling, to say nothing of illegal immigration across the border, and orders were strict. it was not at all outside possibility that a couple of perfectly innocent looking youths might be the tools or employees of some powerful gang. the fact that they dropped out of the skies in an airplane was in itself suspicious. "i'm jim austin, age sixteen years and two months. this is my step-brother, bob caldwell, fifteen years and eleven months," the grey-eyed boy announced gravely. "proud to meet you, sir," bob bowed, then added. "i'm almost as old as he is." "well, go ahead, get along with the story," the mounty put in more pleasantly. his horse had walked close to the boy and was nosing about the pockets of his aviation coat. soberly bob drew forth an apple, broke it in half and fed the big fellow. "we were both born with a complete pair of parents on ranches, adjoining ones, along cap rock in texas, but circumstances, over which we had no control removed my mother and bob's father," jim explained. "when i was twelve i discovered that my father was spending a lot of time on the caldwell ranch and i lay awake nights wondering why a texas gentleman couldn't shoot a lady." "and i planned to set a trap for mr. austin and fill him full of lead," bob offered. "give me your apple, jim." jim handed it over without hesitation and it was fed to the horse. "then, one day, i happened along by the water-hole and found some greasers knocking the stuffing out of bob. we beat them off, and after that, i went to the caldwell's. it was a nice, clean house and mrs. caldwell gave me a square meal, woman cooked." "my mother is the best cook in texas," bob offered softly. "yes. that night i started to follow my father and i ran into bob. we rode about and talked it over. bob's mother wanted him to go to school." "and bob didn't want to," the officer suggested solemnly. "oh yes i did," bob replied quickly. "but a mother, ranch, a string of horses and a pair of blue cranes, is a responsibility," jim offered, "then, we rode to the house--" "and found his father eating a piece of chocolate cake that i didn't know anything about," said bob. "and he'd eaten the last crumbs," jim added. "then, we told them they were a pair of boobs. a week later the knots were tied that united the ranches and made us step-brothers. we were all at our place--" "and bob was to be sent to school?" "sure, but his mother said i had to go too," jim grinned. "not so good." "it was not so bad because his father said that when we finished the course, it was four years, we could have an airplane, he'd see that we were properly instructed in its chauffeuring. we were both hipped about flying," bob answered. "so we went to the school, did the work in two years and a half, learned piloting on the side, then went home and made the old man keep his word. meet her highness," he waved his hand toward the plane which was a beauty. "i'm glad to," the officer grinned broadly. "now, tell me what you are doing here." "you haven't told us anything about yourself," bob reminded him. "later." "bob's mother has a sister, mrs. norman fenton, and she lives on a farm on north hero island. in the summer time she takes tourists and calls the house, stumble inn. we came to see a bit of the world and to pay her a visit. arrived yesterday and this morning took a hop over british soil. we like it even if it isn't texas." "that's generous of you. i'm sergeant bradshaw on border patrol duty, the horse is patrick. he was imported from one of the western states, don't know which one, but he was a bloody beast when he was wished on me--" "somebody had mistreated him," bob announced. "he's got a scar on his leg. looks like a short-hitch hobble that cut him." the boy stooped over, took the hoof in his hand and pat submitted amiably to the inspection. "reckon it was done with raw-hide," jim declared. his fingers gently manipulated the old wound and pat turned his nose about to sniff at the youngster. "pat doesn't usually make friends with strangers. you must have a way with horses," sergeant bradshaw told them. "we came out of the sky to meet him," bob reminded the man. "dad told us before we started north to make our trip as profitable as possible by learning all we can. it's against our principles to ask impudent questions, but we should like to know what you have to do," jim announced and bradshaw laughed heartily. "i have to patrol this territory, watch the roads carefully, and every place where smugglers of any kind might try to break across the border. there has been no end of bootlegging--" "thought canada was all wet," bob grinned. "the provinces have local option and quebec went dry, so we have to enforce it, but the rum runners are the least of our troubles, although they are bad enough. there's a lot of objectionable people sneaking in to both this country and yours, besides drugs and jewelry. this is a pretty wild section and it keeps pat and me on our toes." "noticed from the air it isn't much settled. didn't know there is so much open space outside of texas," bob said. "i should think you'd have a plane and you could see what's going on a lot better. with the glasses we knew all about what you looked like before we came down," jim remarked. "there are some planes on the job, but men and horses are necessary--mighty necessary," the sergeant answered. "the airmen can tell us if anything is moving that is suspicious, but we have to be down here to get it, unless the outlaws are taking the air." "anything special afoot now," jim inquired. "you bet there is." both boys looked at him eagerly. "our men and yours have been working for months trying to get something on a gang that has put it over every time. if we don't make a killing soon, i can see where there will be a general shaking up in both forces and a lot of us will be sent to hoe hay." the officer spoke seriously and the boys listened with keen interest. "tell you what, we didn't think we'd find anything very exciting so far north, but i reckon we'll ooze around here and see what we can pick up. maybe we can help you. you'll recognize her highness if you see her sailing through again, and if we want to communicate with you, we'll circle around and drop you a message if we can't land. how will you let us know if you receive it o.k.?" "that's fine of you, jim, but this is a man-sized job. i appreciate your offer no end, old top, but your aunt and uncle, to say nothing of your mother and father would come down on me hard if i agreed to let you risk your necks--" "the parents are sensible people, we picked them out for that very reason. they both told us to have a good time, and helping you looks to me like a good time--" "besides, what would we risk? all we could do is report to you if we see anything, and like as not what we see won't be much help because we're so green. but, if we did see anything real--because we are such a pair of nuts we might put something over for you. we elect ourselves, you're in the minority, so, if you hear her highness, listen, stop, watch. come on, buddy, your aunt was making cherry pies when we left and if we don't get a move on, some cadaverous tourist is likely to come along and eat every snitch of it. they are a greedy lot." "isn't your aunt the woman who raises such a flock of turkeys?" the sergeant asked. "sure, she used to. she has them on isle la motte, but last year they didn't do so well, and she said last night that she isn't having much luck this spring. it's tough because there is money in turkeys if you can ever make them grow up," bob replied. "i drove down there once and got a couple for my family. they were grand birds. come on, pat." "you haven't told us yet how we will know that you get our message," jim reminded him. "i'll wave my hat, and if i want you to come down, i'll keep it off my head, but you fellows watch your step and don't go doing anything that will get us all into the cooler," he warned. "we'll look out." they both rubbed pat's nose, then climbed into the cock-pit of her highness, this time bob took the pilot's seat. "need any help?" "not a bit, thanks." bob opened her up, the engine bellowed, the propeller spun and her highness raced forward, lifted her nose as if sniffing the air, then climbed into it. jim waved at the man, who wondered if he had not better telephone the fentons and tell them to keep the boys out of any trouble. on second thought, he decided against it. after all, their own air men were watching from above, and as they were every one of them experts at the game, they would report things long before the boys could possibly have their suspicions aroused. it would be too bad to spoil their fun, and if they would enjoy keeping an eye on the world, let them do it. they appeared to be a pretty decent pair of kids. "you almost flew off with them, old top," he remarked, giving the horse an affectionate pat, "and only yesterday you bared your teeth and scared the wits, what little he has, out of that canuck. you _are_ a discriminating old cuss." he leaped into the saddle, but he waited to make a note of the meeting of the boys and their account of themselves. "even at that they may be stringing me," he remarked a bit uneasily as he glanced toward the fast disappearing speck in the sky, but he dismissed the thought immediately for he felt confident the step-brothers were entirely trustworthy. in the meantime her highness climbed in swift spirals for three thousand feet, then bob leveled her off, set his course and started toward north hero, which is one of many delightful bits of land in lake champlain. presently the boys could see a tiny shack with the british flag floating on one side, the stars and stripes on the other. "they look like good pals," jim said into the speaking tube, and bob glanced over the side. "great pair," he responded. "not like the border at texas." he took a good look at the huge lake that stretched out restlessly between new york state and vermont. "we could use that down our way." "let's send some of it to dad. remember how long it is?" "one hundred and twenty-eight miles." "bigger than the two ranches together." they flew on until they were flying over the water, and jim took the glasses to get a better view of the historic lake. he picked out rouse's point, then on to the picturesque sections of land whose rocky coasts had defied the pounding waves. there was isle la motte, with it's farms at one end and long wooded stretch at the other where the fenton's kept their turkeys. beyond, united by a long bridge was north hero island, cut up into small homesteads. there were acres of uncultivated land which was now blue and yellow with flowers, groves of cedar, elm and ash, to say nothing of delicate green spots that the boys knew were gardens or meadows. further on was grand isle, also connected by a bridge, but they were not going that far. "let's hop down on the turkey end of la motte," jim suggested, and bob nodded. he shut the engine off, let her highness glide, and circled for a landing place. "get on the water." young caldwell kicked forward a lever which shifted landing wheels to water floats, selected a smooth cove, and in a moment they lighted, splashed and stopped. "hey you, get the heck out of here. get out!" the voice came from back of a fallen tree, and in a moment a huge man whose face was ugly with anger, walked along the dead bole and shook his fist at them. "get out. you ain't no business around here." "we just dropped in to have a look at the turkeys," bob told him. "we're--" but jim stepped on his foot. "what's the matter?" he broke in quickly. "we're not going to hurt anything. we've never seen a turkey farm and we heard that you have a fine one here." "you're right you're not going to hurt anything, and you're not going to see this turkey farm. hear! now, get out! you're on private property and i'll have the law on you! don't you see them signs, 'no trespassing', right there!" he pointed to a large sign hung between two trees and it plainly warned off inquisitive, or interested spectators. "go on, now, get out." bob glanced questioningly at his step-brother. he had started to tell the caretaker who they were, feeling sure that the information would naturally assure them a very different reception, but for some reason or other, the older boy wanted to withhold the fact. just then the man broke off a dry branch, raised it over his head, and prepared to throw it. "move out of his range," jim said tensely. "he might land that in our propeller or tail." bob sent her highness scurrying over the water and the stick fell harmlessly behind the plane. "the ornery old cuss," bob growled at the indignity. he whirled the plane about, held her nose low, and set the propeller racing. instantly it kicked up a spray of water that shot out on all sides, and before the man could move, he was drenched to the skin. "confound your hides," he bellowed, but her highness was circling away, then she lifted, climbed swiftly and started homeward. bob taxied her low across the two miles of water, and brought her down close to the boat pier, where she "rode at anchor." "boys, dinner's ready." mrs. fenton, a typical, tall, slender vermont woman, came out onto the back veranda of the old house. "so are we," bob shouted. the plane made secure, they raced around the curve, across the wide, sloping lawn, up the high stairs, and into the living-room. "there's basins outside to wash up," mrs. fenton told them, and soon they were splashing the cold water over their faces, and lathering their hands with the cake of home-made soap. "well, you lads get a good look at vermont?" mr. fenton joined them at his own basin. he too was tall and slender, with kindly grey eyes, and a broad smile. although they had never seen him before until their arrival twenty-four hours earlier, they both liked him enormously. "corking. she's some state, uncle norman!" bob answered from behind the roller towel. "she's got a lot of her under water," jim added. "expect you'd like some of that in texas." "surely could use it. cracky, some of those hot spots would seep it up like a sponge." "we could spare a good deal of it," mr. fenton told them. "especially when it's high." "does it get much higher than it is now?" jim asked. "it has swelled up fifteen feet more, then it does some flooding, but that doesn't happen often, not so far north, but we get plenty. well, come on in. hope you didn't leave your appetites in the sky." "we did not." "i will take the milk now, sir." the boys turned quickly at the voice, which was deep and musical, and saw a tall, powerfully built man, whose skin and eyes were dark. he wore the usual overalls, a tan shirt open at the throat, and carried himself more like a person of importance than a working man or a farmer. "all right, corso. here it is waiting for you." mr. fenton handed down a covered pail. "i thank you, sir," corso replied with dignity. "your nephew is doing an interesting job on that mud hole. the boy is a good worker." "he is learning. we thank you." the man accepted the pail of milk and walked away swiftly. the boys noted that he was amazingly light on his feet for a man of his size. "is he a vermonter, uncle norman?" bob asked as they made they way to the dining room where the table would have groaned if it had not been accustomed to such a bounteous load. "no, he isn't. i really don't know where he comes from, bob, and my guess is spain, although i'm probably miles off on that. he and his young nephew, a boy about thirteen, or perhaps a little older, rented a shack a mile or so up the shore; they paid several months in advance. seem to spend their time walking, or on the lake, and i believe i'm about the only person, on north hero island corso talks with, and he doesn't say very much to me. i've seen the boy, of course, but i don't know if he can speak english or not, i've never heard him." "he's a nice looking boy," mrs. fenton put in. "ever since they came your aunt has longed to get her motherly hands on him," mr. fenton laughed. "he needs a woman to look after him, see that he gets proper food and plenty of it. he's as thin as a stick, and i know he was sick this spring. i did make corso take some puddings and jellies to him," she announced. "they sound like an interesting pair," jim remarked. "well, they are, but they mind their own business, and we vermonters mind ours. how about it, light meat or dark, jim?" "dark, please." "what is the boy doing with the mud hole?" bob wanted to know, for a mud hole didn't sound very promising. "i don't know what it will be like when he gets finished but i'm keen to see. it's a strip about two and a half acres wide, and five long, that has always been a dead loss for cultivation. it comes between my alfalfa meadow and the garden; dips down low and toward the middle is quite a hole. the place catches all the rain and hangs on to it all through the hottest months. i had an expert here to drain it several years ago, he sunk some pipes, and although he did get the water off, more came back inside of a few weeks, and it was full after the first rain storm. the land is very fertile, and if i could use it, i would raise bumper crops." "shame you can't." "yes, it is. corso came to me early this spring, some weeks ago, and asked if i would rent it to him, and permit him to dig and do anything he wanted to with it. he assured me he would do it no harm, nor the surrounding patches. i told him it wasn't good for anything, but he seemed to want it, so i let him have it. he and the boy spend a great deal of time there, and they have hauled a lot of rocks from the shore. you probably noticed the edge of the lake, except around the cliffs, is all small flat stones, not very brittle, but not so soft as soap-stone." "sure, we were looking at them last night. some have pink and white streaks, like marble, and are pretty. i'd like to send a box to mom for the garden walks. she'd be pleased to pieces to have them." "they have taken several loads of them and some very large stones. after dinner you might walk over and see what you make out of the work so far. i can't make head or tail of it. a few days ago they planted corn, right in the mud, and in each hole they put a minnow they scooped out of the lake." "why put fish in, do they expect to raise sardines?" jim laughed. "can't say," mr. fenton answered. "it's some heathen notion i know." mrs. fenton announced positively. "are you getting enough to eat, bob?" ii the three mysteries "i say, uncle norman, you surely have a crab of a man to look after your turkeys," bob remarked when the noonday meal was nearly finished, and the boy suddenly recalled their very unwelcome reception on isle la motte. "a crab?" "i'll tell the herd he is the prize long horn for meanness," jim added emphatically. "my goodness, boys, what on earth did he do?" mrs. fenton asked soberly, as if she could hardly believe her ears. "he wouldn't let us near the place," bob explained, then went on with an account of their effort to see the turkey farm. "hezzy's all right, boys. you didn't tell him who you were." "no, we didn't, but great snakes, about everybody on the three islands seemed to know we were coming. didn't seem reasonable that this fellow did not have an idea who we were," jim declared. "of course, airplane visitors are not common and the news of your arriving from texas did spread, but it's possible hezzy didn't hear of it," mrs. fenton told them. "you see, boys, he's been having quite a peck of trouble. last year they hatched a big flock of birds, but before they were half grown, a lot of them were stolen. we know they didn't die--only a few of them--and there is no way for them to have wandered off. their wings are clipped as soon as they are big enough to get any height, and turkeys do not fly very high or far, anyway. some one, or some band of thieves must have made away with them. hezzy is hired to raise them, i haven't time to and look after the farm, and he takes real pride in having a big flock. some of the young ones have disappeared already and i expect he's keeping a mighty close watch to save as many as he can. they bring a good price and last year was the first season we didn't realize a profit on them." "any idea where they go?" "no, we haven't, but it must be outsiders. probably some tourists discovered the old farm tucked away there in the woods, and let it be known, or came back themselves. we have three watchmen, and now one of them sits up all night, but it hasn't done much good," mr. fenton answered. "sure hezzy isn't putting his own brand on them?" jim suggested. "my goodness sakes alive, child, don't say anything like that. i wouldn't have anyone hear you for the world," aunt belle said anxiously. "hezzy is too honest for his own good, really. he wouldn't take a bent pin that didn't belong to him. i've known him since i was a boy. he's a fine poultry man and absolutely reliable. keeps his records as accurate as can be. there isn't a cent's worth he doesn't give a detailed account of every week," mr. fenton supplemented. "i didn't mean to cast reflections on his honesty, but he was such a bear, it just occurred to me he might be feathering his own nest with your turkeys," jim said. "oh, dear me, don't say it again. why, i should be so distressed to have it get out--" "we won't breath it, aunt belle," bob promised. "i'll take you over sometime and you can see the place. i ordered a pair of good watchdogs to help guard it. they should be here in a day or so," mr. fenton said, then added. "well, if you want to go out and inspect what's being done on the mud hole, come along." "perhaps they could eat another piece of pie, norman." "no, we couldn't, not a sliver," bob insisted. "much to our regret," jim grinned. "very well," aunt belle agreed. the two boys followed mr. fenton out of the front door, down the flower lined path under a grove of huge maples, across the road onto the farm proper, past the barns, around the vegetable garden and then he stopped and made a gesture. "here it is." they saw the land, much as he had described it, the alfalfa meadow rising gently on the further side, and between them was a long pond of still water which was very dirty. "some hole," jim nodded. they walked on, picking their way until they saw a boy at work, and they stood quietly watching him. he did not realize they were there and went on with his task quite as if he was alone on the island. "what the heck is he doing?" bob whispered. the boy had some odd sort of implement, the handles of which he grasped in both hands, stood it upright, then jumped, his feet landing in the middle; driving the queer tool deep into the ground. then he stepped off, bent the handles as far as they would go, and raised the earth. "i think it is some sort of shovel, or plow," mr. fenton told them, "but i never saw anything like it. listen and you'll hear him sing, it's a kind of a chant." the step-brothers listened and in a moment they could hear, but the words and melody were unfamiliar. as the youngster straightened up, they could see that he was lithe, his skin was dark like his uncle's, and his heavy hair, which was quite long for a boy's, waved in the breeze. "gosh, he looks a little like an indian, a good one," jim remarked. "will he mind if we go closer?" "no, but i wouldn't pay too much attention to him," mr. fenton advised. "i'll go about my job and you amuse yourselves." he left them, and the boys proceeded to where the young farmer, or whatever he was, was engaged. they marveled at the speed with which he turned over the earth and before they were very close they saw that he was making some kind of trench. at the nearest end the work seemed to be finished, and then they could tell that he was making a terrace along the edge of the alfalfa plot. about half way down he had taken some very large rocks, fitted them with great nicety, filled in the crevices with smaller stones, filled in the space toward the hill with earth, and above the dark soil poked two rows of tiny green shoots of young corn. "gosh, he's planting as he gets the land ready. great job, isn't it?" bob whispered and his step-brother nodded. presently they came up to the boy. when their shadows fell across his plow, he glanced up quickly and sprang back. they grinned cheerfully to let him know they were friendly, and jim pointed to the new terrace. "fine," he declared. the boy smiled, his eyes lost some of the terror which had leaped into them, and his body relaxed. he eyed them for a moment, then motioning with one hand, he led them back to the other side where he showed them a narrow trench. with one scoop of his shovel he removed the earth that still held the water as a dam, and it started to tumble through and race off toward the road, where it would be carried away into the lake. for several minutes they watched, and then they glanced at the useless bog. "cracky," bob shouted with admiration. "some irrigator. look, it's draining off." sure enough, the long strip was getting dry around the edges, and promised to be emptied inside of an hour. "if it stays dry, uncle norman will be tickled pink. say, jim, what do you suppose he is?" "search me," jim responded. "seems as if i've got a kind of hazy idea of reading something about some old race or other using plows like that," bob remarked. "me too. maybe it was the egyptians." "maybe, but holy hoofs, what's this kid doing it for?" "as i said before, my esteemed step-brother, you are at liberty to search me thoroughly, but if you find anything, you have to let me in on it," jim laughed. the boy watched them a few minutes longer, then picking up his tool, he hurried back to his work. "you know, jim, we thought this neck of the woods was going to be dull as ditch-water, but i've got a hunch that if we stick around we may be able to crowd some real excitement into our visit. i'm dying to know who this kid is and where he came from, mystery number one; i'd like to do some flying about isle la motte and perhaps we can see something that will solve mystery number two--what's happening to uncle norman's turkeys--" "i'd like to do some observing and see if we can't get a line on that gang that is giving friend bradshaw such deep furrows between his handsome eyes," jim laughed. "me too, but gosh all hemlock, wouldn't dad kid the life out of us if he knew we are out to help the little old world!" "not only dad, but the whole shooting match on the ranch. tell you what, aunt belle and uncle fent said we could stay as long as we like, and they meant it, even if we are boys. let's organize a secret--s-e-c-r-e-t--mind you, detecting bureau, or what ever it is, and stay until we solve the three mysteries!" bob proposed. "i'm on. this end of the world doesn't look so bad to me. we'll let the folks know we're taking root for a while, the three of us, that includes her highness. we'll keep on the job until we win, or we have to admit we're licked." bob held out his hand and the agreement was made, without further discussion. "we'll have to explain to her highness," the younger boy declared. "sure thing. she'll be disappointed unless there's a lot of air work to it, and i have a hunch there will be." "oh, boys--" "yes aunt belle," bob shouted. "do you know where your uncle is working?" mrs. fenton called from the roadway. "there's a telephone message for him." "we'll find him for you," jim promised. they hurried off in the direction mr. fenton had taken when he left them and soon the sound of a hammer ringing in the distance informed them they were on the right trail. a moment later they could see the man repairing a place in the rail fence that bounded the pasture. "uncle norman, you're wanted on the telephone," bob roared. "all right, coming," the man waved, and dropping his work, came as fast as his long legs could carry him. "guess you're party's holding the line," jim volunteered. "they don't mind that around here," mr. fenton replied. he went ahead and the boys followed more leisurely. "this certainly is a good looking spot. no wonder the early pioneers settled in rock-bound vermont, but, gosh, what a fight they had to put up to get a living out of those rocks," bob remarked as his eyes roamed admiringly over the green hills, across the blue water, on to the distant mountains. "it isn't a rich state yet, but it has produced some fine men. real rip-snorters, rearin' to go," jim added. by that time they had reached the "hole" and could see the strange boy working industriously at his terrace. "you know, bob, we want to be kind of careful because we don't want to do any butting-in on that kid. maybe, far as he's concerned, we had better mind our own business." "reckon you're right, but let's try to make friends with him," bob suggested, and that was passed without a dissenting vote. "oh boys." "here," bob shouted to his uncle. "how long would it take you to get me to burlington?" the man asked as he came up to them. "less than an hour," bob answered. "would it be too much trouble for you to take me?" "not one bit," jim assured him. "ever been up in a plane, sir?" "no, i haven't," the man admitted. "do you get dizzy easily, that is, does it make you sick to your stomach when you get on a high place and look over?" "oh no. i never get dizzy." "that's all right then." "we can strap you in," bob offered. "will the plane carry three of us?" the man asked. "sure. there's an emergency seat in the back, and she'll carry some freight besides," jim explained. "our dad didn't leave anything undone when he bought that plane, and besides, we helped in the selection. she'll do anything except herd sheep," bob said proudly. "we have parachutes and everything. maybe you'd like to try one of them out," jim offered. "not this time unless i have to," mr. fenton laughed. "a chap called me up on important business, and if i can get it attended to today, it will be a big help." "well then, get a heavy coat on. we have an extra helmet--" "shall i need rubbers?" "if you intend to come down with the parachute over the lake," bob answered. "it's mighty nice of you--" "we'll get her highness in ship shape." "i'll be with you in five minutes," mr. fenton promised, and he was. he joined his young guests at the pier, bob was already in the back, while jim was fussing about the pilot's seat. mr. fenton was given the extra helmet and a pair of goggles, both of which he adjusted when he took his place after he had submitted to having the parachute and safety strap buckled properly. "all o.k.?" jim shouted finally. mrs. fenton had come down to see her husband start on his first flight, and she watched a bit nervously. "i don't know about those contraptions, norman," she said anxiously. "they're great inventions, belle. when we get rich, we'll have one," he promised her. "i'd rather have a good horse and buggy," she retorted. "a horse is all right, aunt belle. he never loses an engine or gets his wings ripped off," bob shouted, then added. "all set in the rumble seat, jim!" "right-you-are." jim glanced at their passenger, assured himself that he was secure, then, opened her up, and they sped forward over the water, which was smooth as a sheet of glass. mr. fenton's lips moved, but whatever he said was lost in the roar of the motor. he grabbed the edge of the seat as her highness lifted her nose eagerly, and he hung on grimly as she spiraled in wide curves over the lake. at a thousand feet the young pilot leveled her off and they roared swiftly south toward the state's largest city. after about ten minutes, mr. fenton sat less rigidly. jim picked up the speaking tube and handed the end to him, making motions how to use it. "how do you like flying, uncle norman?" mr. fenton nodded and smiled. he didn't feel quite equal to carrying on a conversation yet. jim followed the lake, and as they were approaching their destination, he spoke again to his passenger. "if we land on the water will that be all right for you, can you get to your place easily?" "yes, the office isn't far from the east shore." mr. fenton felt like an old timer now. he was thoroughly enjoying himself. "ten minutes more," jim told him, and he nodded. presently the pilot shut off the engine, and the man looked startled at the sudden silence. he glanced at jim, who grinned reassuringly as he kicked the rudder about and brought her highness into a long glide toward the spot he had selected for the landing. the plane touched the water lightly, sped along a few yards and stopped beside a long pier. "are we here?" mr. fenton asked. "yes sir. how do you like air traveling?" "it's wonderful, but i did almost get heart failure when the motor stopped," he admitted. "begun to wish you had brought your rubbers?" "my rubbers and a boat." "is this place near enough?" "plenty." jim helped him out of the straps, and by that time bob stepped over the fuselage to give a hand. "glad you didn't try to jump over, uncle norman. how are your air-legs, wobbly?" "a bit cramped." he stretched them both, found they would work, and in a moment he mounted the boat pier. "i don't expect to be more than half an hour." "we'll wait here," jim promised. "oh, look at the hydroplane," shouted a small boy on the shore. "they are calling her highness names," bob scowled. "she's a hydroplane for the minute," jim replied. "let's taxi around the water." "it's getting kind of rough. up at north hero it was as smooth as a sheet," bob answered. "wish i knew more about water and its tricks." "i think we're going to have a blow," jim speculated as her highness went rocking over the waves. "there are some black clouds over south and west and they sure do look as if they are in a hurry. we'll have them on our tail as we go back. got plenty of gas? i read that in some places lake champlain is three hundred feet deep, and it's wet clear to the bottom," said bob. "there's an extra tank besides what is in the bus. guess i'll feed her up. somehow, i think a nice texas desert is pleasanter to land on than water." jim busied himself with the task and bob helped look things over. "why don't you go back above the shore?" he suggested. "we have to land on the cove when we get home, so why switch gears. if there's time this evening, we might locate a place to land on the farm, but we'll have to ask your uncle about that or we'll be coming down on some field he's planted." "o.k. with me." "whoooo boys," mr. fenton shouted from the pier where he was standing with a group of men and an army of small boys who had come to see the take off. "an audience. do your prettiest, your highness," bob urged the plane as his step-brother brought it around in fancy style. "it isn't every farmer who has a couple of pilots to bring him to town in a private plane, free of charge," one of the men joked. "certainly looks like the farmers are getting some relief," another added. "they are going up in the air about it." "it's time we did something," mr. fenton responded. "shall i get in now, jim?" "sure." bob gave him a hand, the straps were re-adjusted, and the younger boy crawled back to his seat, attached his own parachute, and was finally ready. by that time the shore was lined with spectators. "all ready. contact," caldwell shouted. jim opened the throttle, and they were off in a jiffy. they could see the people waving and cheering as they came about a few feet above the lake. then her highness zoomed, high and handsome and the town was left behind. because of the rising wind the return trip was not so smooth. they ran into bumps and pockets, and the force of the approaching storm drove hard behind them, pushing them forward swiftly. jim zoomed to ten thousand feet in an effort to get above the troubled air, but even at that altitude there was no improvement. occasionally he took a second to glance at his passenger, but mr. fenton was facing it bravely, although his eyes showed that he was a bit anxious. the young pilot took the speaking tube, signaled to the boy in the back, and almost instantly there was a red flash on the dial board, which meant bob was paying attention. "better put your cover over, old man." "got her up," came the answer. "i'm snug as a bug in a rug. want to know the readings back here?" "yes." bob read them off while jim compared them with the records on his own control board, and when it was finished, he called. "all correct." "you covered up?" bob demanded. "going to fix it now. so long. meet you on the ice." "you needn't. i'm not a skate," came the chuckling response. then jim drew the storm cover over the cock-pit, switched on extra lights, and the plane raced forward, guided entirely by compass, and the sensitive instruments which kept him fully informed as to how high they were and how fast they were going. the coming of the storm suddenly hit them with a bang and the young fellow fought with the controls to keep her highness balanced. glancing through the tiny window he was startled to see that it was pitch dark, and he had to look at his watch to be sure that night was still several hours away. "some storm," he remarked to mr. fenton, who answered courageously. "lake champlain is noted for them. they are pretty tempestuous at times and this looks like a rip-snorter." iii thundering waters as the sturdy little plane tore along through the thick blackness a deluge of water hit her suddenly with such force it might have been a cloud burst and she staggered under the fury of the impact. she wobbled, side-slipped, twisted and dipped with the strength of the storm beating her mercilessly every inch of the way, and the gale at her tail spun her forward like a leaf torn from a branch. above the roar of the engine and the shriek of the wind through the wires, came the threatening boom of the lake as its mighty waves smashed against the rock-bound shore. tensely jim sat, his eyes watching the dials in front of him, his hands and feet ready for instant action. it was a struggle to keep her righted and the boy zoomed her to fifteen thousand feet in an effort to get above the ceiling of the tempest. but he only climbed into greater trouble, and after a resounding crash of thunder, the sky was split in a thousand ways by flashes of forked lightning. quickly he nosed her down, eyes on the directional compass, but keeping their course was out of the question. they were being blown miles out of the way and he hoped they would not go far enough east to land them somewhere in the mountains. he had not an instant to glance at his passenger, but once or twice his hand came in contact with mr. fenton, and the man was sitting braced for all he was worth. another flash of lightning showed their faces, grim and white. the rain continued to pelt them, and finally jim calculated that they had traveled in a northerly direction. allowing for the wind that had driven them steadily, he turned her highness' nose about in an effort to reach their destination, and the frail little air-craft was almost rolled over. in jim's mind was a vision of champlain and he debated the advisability of shifting the landing gears from the floats to the wheels, but he decided to keep the former in place. he knew so little about the country, and where it was safe to land. in the blackness which enveloped them he could not hope to come down without a very serious smash-up. with bob in the back and mr. fenton beside him, it was too great a risk to take. then he saw the man pick up the speaking-tube, so he prepared to listen. "anything i can do to help?" was the question. jim shook his head. "we ought to be near your place but i don't know where to go down. is the water very rough?" he asked. "yes. the waves will be high and now they are driving from the southeast and will be hitting our side of the island. during a storm like this, boats have to be put under cover or they get beaten to splinters," mr. fenton answered. "thanks," said jim. the prospect wasn't any too cheerful. although it was still raining, he shoved back the protecting cover and tried to peer through the darkness. he could hardly see his hand before his face, but he waited, until suddenly, an almost blinding flash of lightning revealed the world. just ahead of them were farms and patches of thickly wooded sections. the boy saw small houses, their windows lighted as if it were late at night. low growing things, vines and shrubs were bent to the ground. the trees bowed and groaned in the throes of the storm. some of the branches, unable to withstand the strain, were being ripped off and hurled through space. beneath the racing plane the black waters of champlain were whipped into giant rollers, and along their edges white-caps foamed ghastly yellow in the weird light. it was all shut out in a fraction of a minute, and jim zoomed higher to get out of harm's way. "we're about five miles north of our place," mr. fenton told him, and the young fellow grinned with relief. it was some comfort to know where they were. grimly he fought to bring her highness to face the storm. feeding the engine all she could carry he battled to get south, but it was a hard struggle, like shoving against an immovable, impenetrable wall. it seemed as if the plane barely moved forward, but her propeller screwed valiantly, and slowly they gained against the wind, but it drove them east. "any rocks or islands near?" jim asked. "gull rock, two miles directly east, and fisher's island. that's a couple of miles long. if you can head into the southern point of our cove, that is protected somewhat from this wind and the water will not be so bad," the man explained. "we'll try it. do these storms last very long?" "one never can tell. sometimes they come and go in less than an hour, and very often they last much longer." "then there is no sense in trying to stay up until it beats itself out," jim remarked. he couldn't say anything more. another flash of light gave them a brief glimpse of the world but they seemed to be far over the water. mr. fenton leaned out to make observations, but was promptly forced back to his seat. "wow," he whistled. "better keep low," jim advised. then came a series of flashes, and mr. fenton managed to get their location straightened out. "we're still a mile north and about half way across the lake," he volunteered. "i see fisher's point, the north end." "thanks." jim brought the plane about hard, raced her across, then shut off the engine just as a flash revealed the cove at the south end. the boy could see branches being tossed on the waves and hoped hard that none of them would cripple her highness when she dropped down. another prayer he sent up fervently was that the space was wide enough for them to stop short of the rocks. they hit the water, rocked forward and up and down choppily, then stopped, just as someone came racing along the shore waving a lantern. "is that you, norman?" it was mrs. fenton and she was so frightened that she could hardly speak. her face showed white in the darkness and she gripped the light as if she would crush it. "we're all present and accounted for, belle," her husband answered quickly as he hastened to get loose from the straps. "hello everybody!" that was bob who bobbed up in the back seat like a jack in the box. "so, this is london, and here _we_ are!" "oh, i've been so terrified. i telephoned to burlington when i saw the storm coming and they said that you had started. it--it's been just awful, awful." mr. fenton splashed through the water to reach her side. "we're a bit damp, belle, but otherwise perfectly fine." "i knew you would all be killed--" she insisted. "but we aren't," he assured her again. "need any assistance, boys?" "no. we can manage all right," jim answered. the rain was coming down with less force and here and there through the darkness showed streaks of yellow light. the boys got her highness secured to the pier, and hurried to the house, where they found that mrs. fenton was getting out dry garments for them, and a cheery blaze crackled in the wide fireplace, while from the kitchen came the welcome fragrance of the evening meal. they grinned appreciatively at each other and climbed to their own room under the rafters where they changed their wet clothes. when they came down mrs. fenton was just putting out the lights because the darkness had lifted, as if by magic, and through the western windows they could see the glow of the evening sunshine. "well, what do you know about that!" bob exclaimed, hardly able to believe the evidence of his own eyes. "have we been dreaming, or _did_ we come back from burlington in the teeth of a rip-snorting gale?" jim demanded. "it was no dream," mrs. fenton said fervently. "it was more like a nightmare. i was afraid to switch off the telephone because i expected every minute to get a call telling me that you had been wrecked on the lake and were all drowned. and, i was afraid to leave the switch connected because i was sure the house would be struck by lightning. my, it wasn't a dream--not here anyway. goodness, such a storm. i thought the house would be ripped from its foundations and come tumbling over my head. a tree was struck nearby for--oh, it did crash two different times--something awful. land sakes alive, you boys must not go up again in such weather--goodness--" the good lady stopped for breath and to pour glasses of milk out of a huge pitcher, while her husband served the rest of the meal. mr. fenton did not seem to have suffered any from his experience, and both boys considered the whole affair a most worth-while adventure. "we've got some bus, aunt belle. her highness is the best in two countries. have to say that because the shift landing gear was invented by an englishman, but the rest is pure american," bob smiled, then took such a long drink that when he looked up from his glass, there was a perfect white half-moon on his upper lip. "you better shave," jim suggested. "go on, shave yourself! how do you like air-traveling, uncle norman?" "i think it's perfectly marvelous. had no idea, really, how wonderful it is. when especially i think that i never, in all my life, went so far and back in so short a time. we always take a full day to make the trip to burlington, and today we made it in an afternoon." "were you frightened during the storm?" jim asked. "have to admit that i was quite a bit nervous but when i saw you so cool and managing so easily, and how the plane responded to every move you made with those controls, why, i just naturally couldn't go on being a coward. it does not seem to me that bob is over-stating the facts when he says the little plane is the best in two countries. i should say that she is the best in the world to come through such a grilling." "like to go up again?" "i should indeed. just think how automobiles and other modern inventions have placed us far ahead of my father's time. he had to use horses and oxen, and my grandfather did all his traveling, that is, any distance, on the lake-steamers. sometimes it took weeks, and a storm such as we had this afternoon would have driven the boat into the nearest harbor to wait for fair weather." "gee," bob said soberly. "how did those old boys ever get anywhere or have time to do anything?" "when i was a boy i saw some of their primitive methods, bob, but they did manage to accomplish a great deal." "some real nice day we'll give you a joy ride, aunt belle," bob promised with a twinkle in his eyes. he fully expected that mrs. fenton would promptly decline such an invitation, but she looked at the men folk very thoughtfully, then a little pucker came between her eyes. "land sakes alive, bob, you'll probably have to tie me fast and sit on me to keep me from jumping over-board, but i guess if you all think it's so fine, i can live through it. after i have the--er--joyous--i mean joyride, i'll write and tell your mother about it. she said that you took her up several times and now she wants her husband to get a plane." "right you are," jim laughed heartily. "mom's a good sport and so are you. we'll bind you hand and foot, and put weights on you, but i'll bet you will like it as much as mom did." "no doubt i shall," and mrs. fenton didn't smile over the prospect. "well, don't come down and ask me to buy you an air-plane, that is, unless the turkeys take a jump and we have a grand flock of them this fall, but it doesn't look now as if there is much chance," mr. fenton said. the last part of his statement was made soberly. "wonder how the boy's draining plan is working after that rain," jim remarked as he recalled the work of the strange boy on the bog. "when we finish supper, we'll go and have a look, but i expect the place is flooded way above the foot of the alfalfa bed," mr. fenton said. "now, how do you expect to eat your meal if you talk so much? norman, you are not paying a bit of attention to those boys' plates and they are both empty." "my plate may be empty, aunt belle, but my tummy is beginning to feel mighty content. i could purr," bob told them. "well don't. it isn't polite at the table. you may roll over on the floor and kick your feet up if you like," jim suggested. "don't you do anything of the kind," aunt belle said hastily. "the very idea. is that what you do when you have a good meal at home?" "no, mom wouldn't stand that," bob answered. "we tried it once at school and it didn't go so well there either," jim added gravely, and mr. fenton laughed heartily. "how many demerits did they give you?" he asked. "ten apiece," jim answered. "and we had to average ninety-five on four subjects to shake them off," bob added. "it's a cruel world." "the world is a great little old place. it's only the people in it, i mean some of them, who make it unpleasant," jim declared. "i can't eat another mouthful." "this is my last," bob announced regretfully as he swallowed the bite of cherry pie. "that is, i mean the last for the time being." "all right, it's a good thing you added that because you are not at home now and you don't know where the pantry is located--" "don't kid yourself. i ascertained the location yesterday afternoon, before i'd been here twenty minutes." "you would! where was i?" "luxuriating in champlain. i watched your fair form in the red bathing suit while i ate gingerbread and milk--" "humph, that's nothing, i had some when i came in--four pieces and two glasses--cream on top. come along--that is--is there anything we can do to help you, sir?" "no, thank you, jim. i have a couple of chore boys and if you helped they might think i do not want them any more. we want you to enjoy your stay in vermont--" "great guns, we are. it's a grand state even if we could put it into a comer of texas," bob replied sincerely. "you ought to like it, your mother was brought up here, but goodness sakes, she went off when she wasn't much more than a girl. she was married right here in the parlor. i can remember it just as if it was yesterday, then the pair of them drove away in the two seater with old shoes tied to the end. they did look handsome. your pa was all spruced up--and the next year they were in texas--" "you boys coming?" "yes sir." as they went out onto the front piazza, the sun was setting and the sky was streaked with brilliant red and gold which shone magnificently through the trees. there was no doubting that the storm had been an actuality, for a deep stream was racing down the run-off toward the lake, and everywhere the place was strewn with leaves and branches that had been broken. the rural free delivery box was leaning wearily against a maple, as if the struggle to keep upright had been altogether too much. the three picked their way across the road with water dripping from trees and shrubs, and the ground soggy underfoot. they were soon past the garden, and at the further side they could see the foreign boy busy working, but this time his uncle was with him. "whoo-oo," bob called cheerfully. the boy straightened up and smiled, then he came toward them and they went to the ditch he had showed them earlier in the day. it was full to the top with water which was running off as hard as it could go, and in spite of the storm there was little more water on the bog than had been there at noon time. "huh!" mr. fenton gave a little grunt of astonishment. "looks as if it's working all right, doesn't it?" jim remarked. "it certainly does. it'll be a great thing for me if he gets the place drained for that land is a piece of the best. don't see how he's doing it. i had an expert engineer here to dry up that section and he couldn't accomplish a thing. said the only way was to ditch it to the lake, then fill in the hole, use a lot of lime, like a concrete mixer and bring the hill forward. a mighty expensive job it would have been and then part of the land wouldn't be very good," mr. fenton explained. "reckon this boy is some sort of wizard. he's bewitching it," jim suggested. "wish we knew something about him," bob added. "don't blame you for being interested, bob, but we like to mind our own business around here. they seem to be honest and capable and don't interfere with what doesn't concern them--" "oh, we're not going to make blooming pests of ourselves, but we thought it would be fun to get acquainted with him. wish he could speak english," jim explained. "i don't believe that he's spoken to anyone since they came. his uncle speaks fairly well. he seems upstanding. there isn't any harm in trying to make friends with the boy, but i wouldn't--" "butt-in? we won't unless he's willing to have us. know what he reminds me of, bob?" "what?" "some of those indians, the chiefs, you know the fellows that are so straight, clear-eyed, and sort of fine. he seems like that, only maybe an even better sort. the indians we see now aren't so much like that." "he is a little like that, but i don't believe he's an indian. maybe he's like they used to be a long time ago before the white men took all the pep out of them," bob agreed. "i don't know any indians, but i never heard that they were very hard workers, not farmers i mean. it would be queer for one to be interested in that sort of thing. they like hunting--" "yes, that's right. dad said a few of them made good cow punchers, but they never got much chance to show what they might do." just then corso came toward them. his face was grave but his eyes wore a pleased expression. "it is good?" he said as he motioned toward the receding water. "very fine," mr. fenton answered heartily, then he added, "you must not let the boy work too hard. he does not look very strong. why not have one of the men help him in what he is doing? i can get a chap who will do as he's directed, and this piece of work will be a great improvement to the property." corso smiled. "that would be so excellent," he agreed. "all right. i'll have him here in the morning." "he can the english speak?" "sure. you can talk to him, and i'll tell him i want him to follow any instructions you give him." mr. fenton was glad that corso agreed to the plan for as the work promised to be a success he was anxious to get it finished as quickly as possible. "we better look after her highness before it gets too late," jim proposed to his step-brother. "all right," bob agreed, then turning to the boy, he grinned. "so long, old top!" the youngster frowned-- "old top," he repeated, "so long, old top." iv a mysterious find the next morning broke clear and beautiful as only a late spring day can start. the step-brothers found aunt belle busy canning rhubarb, and she eyed the two dozen jars with keen satisfaction. "there, that's finished," she announced. "did you do all that this morning?" jim asked for the sun was hardly well out of the lake and was sending a golden path dancing across the water. "land o' goodness, yes. tomorrow i'm going to make some dandelion wine, and before sun-up is the best time of day to get work done, to my way of thinking," she replied as she bustled about getting the meal ready. "then suppose we give you that joy-ride right after breakfast," jim proposed, and he looked at her to see if she had changed her mind. "land o' goodness, you boys don't believe in giving a body a minute to worry over doing a thing like that. i don't know--" "there's no time like the present," bob teased her, and she smiled. "i might's well get it over with and it will be a real experience. i can think of it all winter. all right." they both had a hunch that she was eager for the adventure, but she was mighty nervous about it, just the same. "it's kind of like going to have an operation or a tooth pulled," she told them and they laughed. "you won't feel that way about it when you come back." "coming back will be a relief, like when the tooth or the appendix has been taken out. i suppose i'll be kind of shaky and queer, but the agony will be over. now, you sit right down and help yourselves. norman told me to be sure to wrap up warm." she hurried away and the boys grinned, then obeyed orders. by the time they had finished, mrs. fenton appeared, wrapped from head to foot almost like an eskimo. her lips were set grimly and her fists were clenched for the ordeal. "now, don't you be afraid, aunt belle. it isn't any worse than sitting in a rocking chair, and it's much more exciting." "i expect you're right. it was exciting watching you drop out of the sky on a streak of lightning yesterday," she gave a nervous giggle. "we won't stay up very long, and if we see the tiniest cloud, we'll bring you right back," jim promised. fifteen minutes later they were ready for the start. aunt belle had been given advice and instructions, strapped fast and parachuted in case of an emergency, her head encased in one of her nephew's helmets and goggles adjusted so she could pull them down. the speaking tube and field glasses were close at hand. this trip jim was in the back seat while his step-brother was beside the passenger. not a word did the lady utter during the preliminaries, but when young austin called that all was as it should be in the rear, she braced herself stiffly, her frightened eyes searching the velvety-blue heavens for a sign of a cloud which might possibly spell danger. "all set!" bob shouted as he opened her for an easy take-off. her highness seemed to realize the importance of behaving like a member of the royal family and did her part like a charm. she skimmed over the lake, circled widely, nosed up speculatively, lifted slowly on a long gradual climb, the motion of which was truly as pleasant as being rocked comfortably in a grandmother's big chair. up they went five hundred feet and by that time they were beyond the south end of fisher's island and sailing gaily toward the narrows below the point. bob leveled off, they soared ahead, came partly around and climbed again at easy stages until the altimeter registered twelve hundred feet. the boy was glad that his aunt had asked no questions about the control board. her highness roared across north hero island, turned south again toward grand isle, then curved to come back. by that time mrs. fenton was wearing a very surprised look, and a moment later, she gave a relieved sigh, relaxed, and even sat up a little. her lips moved and the boy knew that she was saying: "my land o' goodness." "look," he pointed ahead and she followed the direction with interest, and after five minutes more, she was gazing over the side with fine unconcern. then bob pressed the glasses upon her, and she raised them to her eyes, and smiled at the wonders she beheld. as mrs. fenton had never been "joy riding" before, the boys had agreed not to keep her up too long this first trip, so bob brought her highness about, roared over the country his aunt knew; crossed the island above the bridge which connects north hero with isle la motte, and curved over the latter stretch of land until they were sailing on a line with the turkey farm. jim in the back seat had time for observation, so he took a good look at the place. he had no difficulty in making out the ancient homestead, the old house where he guessed that hezzy burley, the poultry man, lived with his helpers. close by were a number of hatcheries, and further along high wire-covered pens where turkeys, young and old, strutted timidly. the boy didn't have time to get a bird's-eye view of the whole farm, but he did notice that it came down to the lake on one side, and stretched back over a belt of timber and beyond a hill which looked as if it might be a very delightful place to ramble, but no good for landing a plane. as he glanced with interest at the fenton property, he thought he saw some men in a ravine and decided they were hikers, or merely out for a stroll. then, suddenly it occurred to him that they had no business on the property and it might be a good idea to tell mr. fenton and have hezzy keep on the lookout for them. the boy wondered if the watch dogs had arrived, but his mental query was answered immediately, for he saw two dogs racing down to the water, and both of them plunged in for a swim. they looked like a very capable pair and he hoped they would be able to save bob's uncle from having to mark off another bad year in his turkey business. her highness was now soaring as gracefully as the white gulls they passed on the water, and bob shut off the engine. the plane began a beautiful descent, and in a minute more she was floating toward the pier. "well, how's the tooth, aunt belle?" bob teased. "my land sakes alive, if it isn't the beatinest. there, i never slept a wink all night thinking about it, wishin' i'd been a better christian in case i never got down to earth again, and all that worry--" "was a dead loss," jim laughed. "yes it was," she admitted honestly. "it was just marvelous. now, i've got to hurry. my fruit man comes through in a few minutes and i want some lemons. tourists say this fruit wagon is kind of interesting and curious, maybe you boys would like to look at it," she invited. "it comes from montreal, through the customs, and we can buy things cheaper than we can get them from our own stores. it seems queer, but it's so." they had unstrapped her and she smiled. "i'd like to see him. we have some queer covered wagons that are driven through texas. how did you like the ride?" "a lot, and i'm ever so much obliged to you both. my land o'goodness--i mustn't forget to write to your mother and tell her i've been up with you. her highness is real pretty, isn't she!" "we think she is," bob answered with pride. "you got a right to think that." aunt belle stood a moment to admire the plane, which did look particularly lovely as the sun shone on her broad wings, and the water beneath her, splashed gently about the floats. "she's a beauty." "i saw some men, hikers i guess, back of your turkey farm," jim volunteered as they went toward the house. "there's a lot of people living at the north end of the isle, and they are likely to go roaming all over the place. sometimes the school teachers take nature classes to study the trees, and the boy scouts asked permission to camp there. hezzy knows them all and he lets them go parts where they won't do any damage or scare the birds." "probably it's all right then." jim dismissed the idea that he might have spotted something important, and followed the others into the house. "i got some bananas, mees fenton." it was a soft pleasant voice that spoke, and the lips were parted in a wide smile. "little greaser?" bob said in an undertone. "more likely little canuck," jim reminded him. "and he's not so little at that." the man was certainly picturesque in his baggy trousers, tied at the knees with pieces of new hemp, a red flannel shirt, and velvet jacket. he stood over six feet in his moccasins, which were of thick deer skin, and he might have been taller, but the weight of his hat must have kept him down. "i'll be right out, pedro," mrs. fenton called and she hurried away to rid herself of the extra clothing she had donned for the air ride. the two boys strolled out on the veranda to wait for her, and they could see the huge covered truck standing under the shade of two of the maples that edged the winding main road. being sure of a customer, pedro proceeded to his wagon, opened the end doors, leaped lightly over the tail board, and disappeared. "cracky, it doesn't look like any wagon i ever saw before," said bob. "no." they studied it with interest. it was heavily built, evidently constructed for long hauls and to carry heavy loads. the "cover" was of wood and metal, and the whole thing was painted a brilliant red and deep blue. "anyone would recognize that as far as he could see it," laughed bob. "oh, here you are." mrs. fenton came out with a basket on her arm and the three made their way to the caravan. "do all these peddlers have wagons like that?" jim wanted to know. "good land, no, only pedro. he had it made specially. fills it up in canada. he has to carry a great deal of truck to make it pay because some of the customs are high," she explained. "does he pick up american goods to take back?" "yes, and sometimes he does a little freighting when he can't buy our farm products." they had reached the end of the wagon, and the boys were amazed at its capacity. it seemed to hold a store full of goods. besides the early vegetables, lemons, bananas, oranges, and pineapples, there were moccasins, indian bows and arrows for youthful purchasers, bright blankets, and some skins hanging from the top. mrs. fenton looked over the wares, made her selection, and finally the transaction was completed. pedro got a pail of water from the lake and gave his engine a drink, then climbed into the seat, waved cheerfully, and thundered colorfully off toward the next farm. in a minute he disappeared over the hill, but it took longer for the noise of his machine to diminish in the distance. "golly, he could take half the state over the border in that bus," bob declared, then added as he saw the foreign boy coming from the garden, "here's our friend. hello," he called. the boy stopped, eyed them keenly, then smiled and showed a set of teeth so perfect that any dentist would have given half his kingdom to use his picture in an advertisement. "old top, so long." "guess that will hold you for a while," jim roared. "you are dismissed, my brother, old top." "aw i say, that's wrong. hello!" "aw," the boy repeated--"aw, hello." "that's more like it." he pointed to his step-brother. "jim." the boy looked at jim, who flushed under the scrutiny. "jim," bob said again. "jimmm?" "you got it. jim." "aw, old top; jim, so long; hello." "will you listen to the vocabulary. ain't that marvelous!" "it ain't," jim scowled, then he pointed to bob. "bob," he explained. the boy seemed to understand that it was some sort of introduction. "it ain't bob?" "yes it is," bob insisted, pointing to himself. "bob." "bob? jim?" "great," they both nodded gleefully. "you're a regular chatterbox." the boy repeated the words he had learned and seemed to enjoy the sound of them. then he stood a moment, straight as a young sapling, the expression on his face changed to a sober one, and into his deep, fine eyes, came a thoughtful look, which seemed to be habitual to them. as they met his gaze, any desire they might have had to have fun with him, disappeared, and the step-brothers felt a strong urge inside them to befriend this young foreigner. "bet my share of her highness against a plugged dime that he'd make a great pal," jim remarked. "i'm not taking you up. let's see if we can't teach him more english. that won't be butting in," bob proposed. "maybe we can do a little," jim agreed. but just then a soft whistle came from further up the road and the boy turned quickly, leaped over the low fence and started toward the sound. the boys watched him until a moment later he joined his uncle, who had evidently called. they both hurried in the direction of the lake, and a few minutes later, the young americans heard the dip of oars as a boat was shoved off onto the water. aimlessly jim and bob followed more slowly until they were standing on the shore, and they could see the boat skimming swiftly north. "they parked it here. guess they're going home to lunch, and it's easier than walking up the road," jim suggested. he glanced at the marks on the rocks and sand where the boat had been left. bob stared at the spot as if he expected to learn something of the two mysterious persons who had just left it. "here's a can, or something." bob stooped and picked up a small covered box. it was somewhat the shape of a tobacco box such as men carry in their pockets, and was no more than an inch thick. "that isn't tin. maybe they dropped it," jim said as he turned it over in his hand. "say, know what that looks like?" "a box--" "sure, but the metal looks like my silver watch did--you remember it got almost coal-black--sort of brownish." "so it does. guess this is silver. we better keep it, and if it belongs to the kid, return it to him." "sure. if it doesn't belong to him, aunt belle may know who owns it. mom said that in a little place like this everybody knows all about what everybody else owns." jim turned the thing over in his hand again, gave it a little shake, and as he did so, the cover sprang back, as if he had pressed a concealed spring. "well, look here," he exclaimed. the two looked inside but all they could see was some bits of colored string. carefully jim took hold of one and gave a little pull. "you'd better not do that. the string may be around something real small and you'll lose it," bob suggested, but before the words were out of his mouth, the entire contents was in jim's hand. "what do you make of that?" "maybe the kid has been trying to be a boy scout. it's nothing but colored strings full of knots, but it's a queer sort of string at that. i never saw anything like it--" "you'd better put it back," bob urged. "it isn't any good, but if the kid was having fun with it, we don't want to be goops--" both boys turned quickly as they heard the sound of oars being plied swiftly as if someone were rowing in a great hurry. "he's coming back." hastily jim stuffed the odd looking string back into its container and snapped the lid shut. "wish i hadn't been such an inquisitive boob," he muttered. by that time the boy and his uncle had almost reached the spot, and both of them seemed to be anxious about something. "did you drop a little box here?" bob called as the boy leaned on the oars to let the boat come ashore. corso's face lighted with relief, as if the thing they had lost were of great value. "yes, sir," he answered. "well, that's good. we just picked it up." jim stepped hastily forward and restored the find to its owners, but to his surprise, they both leaped out. "much sirs, we thank you." the man took jim's hand, and to that pure young american's utter embarrassment, stooped and kissed it. hastily he drew it back. "aw, that's all right," he said in confusion. "glad we saw it before the waves carried it off," bob declared. he was congratulating himself that it was his step-brother who received the homage, but his delight was short-lived, for the boy took his hand and performed as did his uncle. "much thanks, bob--jim," he said chokily. "aw, it isn't anything to make a fuss over," bob answered quickly, and his face flushed to the roots of his hair. in his heart he was glad that none of the cowpunchers from cap rock were there to witness such a display of gratitude. "much thanks," the uncle said again, and the two backed away. "don't mention it," jim said hastily. "we have to go, or we'll be late for lunch. we would have given it to you this afternoon if you hadn't come for it." they both bowed low, then sprang into the boat and rowed off, but now their faces were wreathed in smiles and as the distance grew between them and the shore, they began a sort of chant which sounded like the wind sighing through the cedars. "come along, let's get a move on. i don't want to be kissed any more. gosh, they must be french," bob exclaimed, and the two started to run as if the old harry were after them. when they came in sight of the house, they stopped. "i'm not going to tell anyone about that box." "mum's the word. if we tell about finding it, we'll have to tell about giving it back. perhaps it's some sort of heirloom, but it sure is a queer sort of thing to make such a fuss over." "i'll say, maybe now that we gave it back, corso and the boy will be friendly and we can ask them where they came from--" "maybe we can, but we're not going to be little interrogation points unless they give us the information without our asking for it. dad says a gentleman recognizes another gentleman and they treat each other accordingly--" "well, that's o. k. with me," bob nodded. "but i thought we might get an answer to one of the mysteries." v a discovery "i have some errands at isle la motte station, boys, and i'm running up there in the car. if you'll condescend to ride in anything so slow and primitive, i'm driving down to the turkey farm and you can see what it looks like," mr. fenton invited that afternoon as the boys came up from a swim. "well, of course, sir, we wouldn't be so impolite as to say that we scorn to use your only mode of conveyance," jim grinned broadly. "but we'll accept with pleasure. i'm looking forward to meeting hezzy and seeing his face when he learns we are members of the family," bob added with relish. "how soon are you starting?" "as soon as you are ready," mr. fenton told them, so they raced into the house and made a wild scramble to get into their clothes. in record time they were out, their faces were flushed from the stampede and the cold dip. "you surely have a grand lake in your back yard. i never enjoyed a swim so much in my life," jim volunteered as they climbed into the seat of the waiting car. "suppose that you have water-holes in texas and you boys fight over the swimming privileges just as the cattle men used to fight over keeping them for their stock," mr. fenton remarked. "we don't kill each other." "we're not so fond of a bath as all that, uncle norman. there are four creeks on the ranches, and one corner of mom's takes in a slice of pearl river." "in the spring we have it to burn. sometimes it fills the gullies and part way up the canyons, but that's only in the cap rock section. almost at the edge of the cliff the land stretches away for about three hundred miles and that's pretty dry. some of the ranchers drove wells, but they had to do it a dozen times before they had any luck, and most of them are driven more than a hundred feet to reach water. they force it to the surface and make pools," jim explained. "is that for the cattle?" mr. fenton was greatly interested. "yes, and to irrigate the grain." as he listened to the bits of description of the boys' home in texas, mr. fenton was driving along the road which ran in a wavy line all the way around the island and in ten minutes they came to the log bridge which led to isle la motte. here and there they passed vermonters who exchanged greetings with the farmer, and occasionally they passed touring cars. some of them were carrying full loads, while others were less crowded. a good percentage were trying to take in all the beauty of the "islands" they were crossing, but the rest looked bored and some of them read. the cars carried plates from almost every state in the union and were everything from shiny and new, to rattly and very old. "great snakes," jim remarked. "looks as if the world and his wife have taken to their automobiles." "glad we have her highness. she can't be crowded off the road," bob added and he glanced a bit disdainfully at the travelers. they drove across the bridge, hurried on north and at last came to the little depot, where mr. fenton took on a piece of freight, chattered a moment with the agent, then took his place again. "now, you'll see the farm. the place is one that mrs. fenton inherited from an uncle of hers. that end of isle la motte used to be rather thickly settled for these parts, but the old people died off and the younger ones went to other places to make their homes. it's quite a farm, nearly three hundred acres, but most of it is timber land, and it's too far from the main road to cultivate. if we didn't have the other place, we should have moved over, but it seemed ideal for a poultry farm. vermont turkeys bring a big price, so we started in a small way and soon it was quite a success. the last couple of years haven't been so good. the birds are not easy to raise, and we expect many of them to die and don't mind if a few are stolen, but wholesale loss--a couple of hundred went two nights before you boys arrived." "cracky, that was a wollop," bob whistled. "have many raids like that?" asked jim. it sounded like the losses on a big stock ranch. "there have been quite a few. well, here we are." they drove up to the old house which had been built over a hundred years ago, but in spite of its great age, it was sturdy looking. its architecture, doors, mullioned windows, and wide floorings in the "porch" would have gladdened the heart of a "colonial" collector. the boys did not know this, of course, but they could appreciate that it was a great old place. mr. fenton honked, and in a moment the door was opened and hezzy emerged. "how are you, burley? dropped around to show the nephews from texas what a turkey farm looks like." hezzy came down the steps and the boys eyed him gravely. "want you to meet the boys. jim austin and bob caldwell. they are going to spend a part of the summer with us." "pleased to--" hezzy was beside the car now, his glasses resting low on his nose as he could look over them. "reckon mr. burley has met us before," bob grinned. "oh yes, i forgot. they told me they landed with their plane on the cove and you drove them away. i explained the troubles you have been having." "they didn't one of them say they come from your place, just landed on the lake and said they wanted to see the farm. that was two days, or less, since we lost that big batch--i wasn't taking no chances," hezzy said quickly. he wasn't a very prepossessing man to look at, but now he smiled at his employer and was most affable. "sure, we understand," bob assured him, but jim said never a word. "want to look around now?" hezzy invited cordially. "we will. i haven't much time but they can get an idea and come back later if they want to see more," mr. fenton said as they climbed out of the car. "oh, they can see it in a few minutes," hezzy answered. "it's pretty much all alike." he led the way toward the shore, and presently the three were going through the houses, past the wired run-ways, and to the larger enclosure where the bigger birds were confined. "the thieves must have done some damage if they went over those wires," jim remarked as he noted the fine mesh, and that smaller yards were enclosed like a box. "they got in through the houses," hezzy answered promptly. "at night." "got good locks?" bob asked. "best we can buy," his uncle replied. "wish we could help you find the thieves," said jim, "but we're kind of dubs. i lost my watch at school and tried detecting. began to suspect the president, then i found it in my other suit pocket, so i swore off sleuthing." "you bet, it's a dangerous business, but i suppose you have someone on the job, uncle norman!" "well, no, we haven't. we just try our best to catch them when they come for more, but we haven't been able to discover the thieves yet. i see that you have the watch dogs. are they good?" "they seem to be fine dogs, but one of them is sick this morning. i gave him a physic. it's the only thing i know to do for him, but i guess he'll come around," hezzy told them. "you'd better call up the veterinary. i paid a good price for those beasts and should not like to have to buy another pair," mr. fenton ordered. "i called up the vet. he told me what to give him," hezzy answered. "well, guess that's all you can do. someone might try to poison them, so keep an eye on what they eat." "i'm not taking any chances," hezzy said hastily. "want to have a look at him?" "not this afternoon, i want to get back. you boys seen enough to satisfy you for the time being?" "sure," jim answered. "there isn't much to see. sometime when you are coming again, we'll tag along if you'll let us, sir." "be glad to have you." "sure, bring them along any time," hezzy spoke up. "i'm sorry you didn't say you belonged to the fentons when you were here yesterday, but i didn't know, and turkeys are the scariest birds that grow wings." "that's all right, but we thought you might have heard about the plane and recognize us from that," jim told him. "fent told me you were coming from texas in an airplane, but when a man's worried he don't stop to think. only thing came into my head was you were some marauders and my men were both away for an hour." "all right, come along." they made their way to the car and were soon on the way home. "it's a great place, uncle norman. maybe when we're flying around we can locate something which will solve the mystery for you, but you'd better not say anything to anyone because it might put the thieves wise and they'd work another way." "very well, i'll keep it under my hat, but don't either of you go taking any chances. i want to send you home with whole bones and not in sections. that would be a poor ending for your trip." "we'll be careful. we were over the island with aunt belle this morning and i noticed the other end hasn't much good landing space. too many trees and shrubs, except one hill that's kind of bare, but it isn't very big and it looks steep," bob explained. "your aunt certainly did enjoy her ride," the man smiled. "don't we know it! we knew she would, but she was scared blue when we started--said it was like going to have a tooth drawn." by that time they were at home and after supper they took a stroll along the rocky beach. "got something on your mind besides your cap?" bob asked his buddy. "yes, hair." "the rest is vacant space--" bob dodged a stone that his step-brother threw at him. "no it isn't, you nut. keep away from those trees or a squirrel will mistake you for a part of his supper," jim retorted. they walked on a way in silence, then they came to a huge boulder, where the older boy sat down. "i say, what are you thinking about? i never saw you still so long except when you're in her highness and her voice keeps you quiet." "how did you like hezzy?" jim asked. "oh, he wasn't so bad when we were properly introduced. guess if we had just lost two hundred turkeys we'd have been out with shot guns too. we'd have fired them first and sent apologies to the family afterwards. what do _you_ think of him?" "i don't know. it's giving me a brainstorm to find out. can't blame a man for being on the war path under those conditions. he's probably the salt of the earth, as your aunt says, and honest as the day is long, but i can't get over the idea that if we met him on the range in texas, we'd turn the bull loose on him," jim laughed. "maybe we would," bob admitted, then he grinned, "but you don't want to forget that you thought the president had your watch." "go on!" "what's eating you besides the man's looks and his reception of us the other day?" "not much. it seemed to me that he wasn't overly anxious to have us come back--" "why yes he was--said to come--" "any time _with your uncle_. but when mr. fenton said we could come by ourselves and take a look, he said 'we could see it all in a few minutes.' like as not, i'm barking up the wrong tree. let's go up early in the morning and see what we can see around the border. i'd kind of like to talk with bradshaw again. he was real decent and i'd like to know if he located any of that gang yet," jim proposed. "suits me right down to the ground." "we've been kind of grounded since we came. suppose your aunt would mind letting us take a lunch to eat in the air, or some nice place we pick out?" "of course she won't mind. what sort of crab do you think she is?" "no sort of crab, unless there is a very generous, likable variety, but we don't want to make extra trouble for her. your mother said that the farm takes a lot of work and she has no end of things to do. tomorrow she's going to can some more--" "and she'll be glad to have us out of the way for a while." bob was quite positive, and although his aunt showed no desire to be rid of her two guests, she was perfectly willing to fix them up a picnic lunch and by the weight of the basket she handed her nephew the next morning, it promised to be a bountiful meal. "you boys be careful and if it gets stormy you'd better come right home. i'd be real worried--" "you must not do that. didn't we slide down on the lightning the other day?" bob demanded. "yes, i know you did--" "and didn't you enjoy air traveling?" "yes, yes indeed i did, i wrote to your mother last night--" "then don't waste any good worries about us," bob grinned. "we'll be fine and come home to roost, like chickens." "hurry up, her highness is raring to go," jim shouted. he was already in the cock-pit, and his pal raced to join him. "all o.k.?" "sure mike." bob took his place beside his step-brother, adjusted himself, and in a minute jim opened the throttle, the engine bellowed a challenge to the world, or a joyous roar that it was about to do something worth watching. up they climbed a thousand feet, circled above north hero, and as bob glanced over the side, he caught glimpses of children and farmer folk staring at them. he waved gaily, then her highness leveled off and shot northwest. "going to have a look about isle la motte?" bob asked through the speaking tube. "no. if the thief is there i want him to think that we are not interested in looking for him," jim answered, then added. "i'm more interested in seeing if we can find bradshaw." "any special reason?" "not one." jim answered emphatically. they sped toward the boundary and both boys were filled with delight at being in the air. bob kept the glasses to his eyes and every once in a while would point out something attractive so his step-brother would miss none of the delights of the trip. jim did not wish to go straight north, so he bore westward, following the american side of the border and after an hour, circled about and returned pretty much along the same course. once they saw a passenger plane soaring majestically south, and then they spied the mail-pilot racing toward them, so they went to meet him. the young fellow in the cock-pit eyed them for a moment but when they grinned and waved, he waggled his wings as a return salute. he seemed such a jolly sort that jim came about and taxied along beside him for a while, then with a farewell wave, he spiraled high and circled away, the u. s. plane thundering toward montreal. "we ought to locate bradshaw soon," bob remarked as they were nearing the territory which their mounty friend patrolled, and jim nodded. the younger boy searched the rolling globe beneath them. through the glasses he could see tiny homesteads, miles of unsettled stretches broken only by a rough road, and an occasional traveler scooting along in a car or seeming to crawl behind a team of horses. "the place we picked up bradshaw is about a mile ahead," jim remarked, and this time bob nodded assent. he paid even greater attention to his observations, and once he picked up something that puzzled him. it was a wooded ravine, the sides of which rose steeply and were bristling with overhanging rock. the boy guessed that it was the bed of a stream, but the water had either dried up or been diverted through another outlet. he followed its winding course, and calculated that it must be several miles long and extended well across the borders into the two countries. twice he thought he saw something moving about, then he looked more sharply for he thought it might be a bear. in a moment more he discovered that it was a man, two of them in fact and they were making their way warily as if anxious to escape detection. "slow up a bit buddy and zig-zag. i want to see this place." jim nodded, reduced the speed, zoomed high and spiraled as if he were reaching for the ceiling, then dropped, and all the while bob kept his eyes on that deep ravine. "spot anything, buddy?" "i don't know. you have a look, but be careful. wouldn't that ravine down there be a corker place for bootleggers or smugglers to go sneaking from one side to the other? i see some men there now. what do you think?" jim was already scrutinizing the place. "yes it would, but it's too big for the patrol men to have overlooked," jim answered. "that old road runs pretty close to it. law-breakers would keep out of a place like that." "they might not just because it looks so inviting. they might figure they could get away with it because it's so easy, and they'd have it fixed up. see those fellows?" jim nodded, and by that time he was keenly interested. he not only saw the two men, but further along he picked up two more who seemed to be hiding in the underbrush, and not far away he espied a two-wheel cart, which was painted green. "great guns, we've got to find bradshaw and tell him. he may give us the ha-ha, but just the same, that's no ordinary bunch down there, and the men are not even smoking cigarettes. here." he handed the glasses back to the younger boy. "be careful no one notices that you are watching them," he warned tensely. he kicked the rudder, shot her highness' nose into the air, zoomed higher, and five minutes later, bob caught his arm and nodded toward the land. "bradshaw is down there on the road! he's about five miles, i guess, from where i first saw that ravine, and it ends just a little way below him. two fellows crawled up after he had passed, got on horses and separated, and jim, they are following the mounty, one on each side, as if they are watching him. they are just jogging along as if they are on old plugs, and jim--there, oh gosh, there are two more coming out a mile ahead on the road." bob was so excited that he could hardly speak steadily. "are they laying for him?" jim asked tensely. "i think they are. come on, do something, and do it quick, for they are all trotting in close. i think he hears the ones behind, because he's turning around--jim--" jim looked over the side, and just ahead he could see the drama being enacted two-thousand feet beneath him. "hang on to your teeth," he roared. with a swift flop he turned her highness' nose toward the earth, and with the engine bellowing he came tearing out of the sky. after the first second he shut off the motor, made it cough and sputter, and the plane began to spin and twist, tail first, then nose first. both boys tried to watch what was taking place beneath them, and jim's heart almost stopped beating as he saw that the mounty was concentrating his whole attention on them. even pat had his eyes upward at the startling spectacle of a gyrating airplane that promised to be kindling wood in a few seconds. on they raced, and as they came, austin saw that two of the outlaws were galloping swiftly, rifles on their arms, toward their prey. they seemed to have thrown caution to the winds and were taking advantage of the commotion above them to complete their wicked crime. bob clutched his step-brother's arm as he too took in the scene, but jim was not unmindful of their own danger and one eye was on the altitude meter. at five hundred feet he took the controls, started the engine and lifted her highness' nose, then went on into a glide that brought them, a moment later, to a scant two feet of the snorting patrick and the indignant mounty. but before the man could utter a protest, jim bellowed defiantly. "aw yes, suppose you think you own the air, and you're going to give us a blowing up. well, come on and do it." "i surely will," bradshaw responded. he was surprised at the whole performance, leaped from his horse, and strode close to them. "well, go on and search me if you want to, you half-baked nut--" "i say, how do you get that way?" jim was out of the cock-pit, his arms raised above his head as if he were being held up. "go on and search," he shouted. "i'm not afraid of the whole canadian army," then he added in a lower tone. "search me and make out you're mad as blazes. rip us both up loud and handsome. we saw some guys out to do you, and they are not far away. savvy?" "yes, i'll search you, you rough necks." swiftly his hands went over the boy from head to foot, while jim alternated between bitter abuse, punctuated with bits of their story told in a lower tone. in the middle of the performance, bob hopped out beside his step-brother. "what do you think you're doing?" he yelled, and added, "get out your gun, they're just back in some brush." the business-like automatic was instantly in bradshaw's hand and he whirled on caldwell. "you quit shooting off your mouth," he ordered in fine style. "how did you chaps discover this bunch?" in a lower tone of voice. he began the search of caldwell, and as the three stood they could see on all sides of them in case the outlaws decided to take a hand. "we were looking for you," bob answered while the man went through his breast pockets. "saw a ravine back there with a lot of men in it. looked queer so we came to give you the message, then as soon as we spotted you, we saw the bunch, four of them, closing in, so we did our little stuff with her highness. now don't go taking anything that doesn't belong to you," he ended with a savage roar as bradshaw drew a notebook out of his pocket. vi a capture they stood in rather close formation, bob and the mounty facing each other, jim so that he could observe anything approaching by either of two other points of the compass, and bradshaw scowling fiercely and thumbing young caldwell's book. "you've got to explain this," he thundered. "it's nothing but school reports, tests and names of classmates. you needn't go cribbing it," bob growled angrily. "what you american kids doing here anyway? got a permit a fly into canada?" bradshaw demanded, but his eyes were narrowed as he focused them on the surrounding brush, his gun in hand. suddenly he whipped it up almost to bob's ear, and snapped: "come out of that you fellow." then followed a snarling curse, a smashing through underbrush, and the sharp crack of the automatic. like a panther bradshaw leaped forward and in an instant he dragged forth one of the pair who had come to head him off, but galloping hoofs and wild oaths proclaimed the departure of the other three. a moment later there wasn't a sound of them. the mounty snapped handcuffs on his captive, trussed his feet, and shoved him along out of earshot. "pat," he called and the big horse trotted to his side. "don't let him move." pat promptly stepped over the man, who howled in terror, and lightly planted one hoof on his coat, pinning him securely. "some horse," bob whispered with admiration. "now, you fellows give an account of yourselves. how did you happen to come down right here just as those lads were getting funny?" he spoke so sharply that the younger boy was sure the man believed they were a party to the hold-up, but jim merely scowled back. "aw you ground hog. our motor stalled up there and i couldn't get it going until we almost smashed. can you understand that?" "it's clear enough. what are you smuggling in that car?" he gave a little nod and strode with a determined tread to her highness. "not a blamed thing that doesn't belong to us," jim shouted as he followed close. "no?" bradshaw leaned over as if to make a thorough inspection. "what's in the basket. a book of bed-time stories?" "grub," jim answered sharply, then added. "and some apples for pat." "thanks," the mounty grinned. "now, tell me, is that ravine the one that comes along like a letter s, deep and steep on both sides almost all the way. it ends in a rock cliff about a half mile below here?" "that's it," bob whispered and he sighed with relief as he realized that the officer had been playing the game. "great guns, we've had that under inspection, but we'll take another look into it. do you know that out-post right on the line?" "sure. has the two flags." "that's it. my head chief is there now. i wish you'd fly over it and drop him a message--" "we can give it to him," jim offered. "don't want you to come down. we've been bluffing that i don't know you and it may help. anyway it won't get you into trouble if any of the gang should see you again. i'll have to get this fellow locked up and make a report. i'm no end obliged to you. if you hadn't been on the look-out i might have had a nasty fight all by my lonesome. wish you'd get away as soon as you can and drop this to my chief. you did me a mighty good turn and the department will appreciate your further service. weight it down with these rocks, if you haven't anything better. i picked them up when i was cuffing our friend over there." "glad to. we'll keep a look-out from the air and you watch us. if we see any more surprise parties coming your way, we'll do a tail spin," jim said softly. "thanks, but i fancy those fellows are willing to call it a day. don't know why i've been picked out to bump off, but they may be planning to pull something in my territory during this beat. i'll be moving." he raised his voice and handed the note to jim, then began in a louder tone. "sure, i suppose your father is the president of the united states, but you beat it back over your own line and if you don't you'll wish he had the power of triplets." "aw," growled jim. "smoke bomb," bob added with relish as the throttle was opened and her highness got under way. further pleasantries were cut off by the thundering of the motors but the younger boy leaned over ostensibly to make faces at the officer, while his eyes searched the vicinity. he saw pat still penning the captive to the earth, but not a glimpse did he get of another human being in the neighborhood. the plane zoomed a thousand feet, leveled off and headed for the post the boys had seen a few days before. jim had the stones, which he wrapped with the paper in his handkerchief, and then he knotted the note inside. "all quiet on the front?" he asked his step-brother. "as a mid-summer night's dream," bob replied, then added. "i see the post, buddy." jim nodded for he too had picked it out and already her highness was gliding to a lower level. down she rode swiftly, until she was only five hundred feet in the air, then they noticed the man-on-post come out, and level his glasses upon them. jim raised his arm, and at the right moment he dropped the message over the side, and brought the plane about in a half circle, while they both watched the thing, the corners of the handkerchief standing out like a pair of rabbit's ears as it tumbled to the earth. "he's got it," bob shouted gleefully. a second man had come out of the hut and the boys saw them inspecting the present they had received so unexpectedly. the first man waved his hand and ducked into the house, and the boys, quite satisfied with the morning's work, grinned at each other. "i'm empty, buddy," jim announced as they sailed off. the boys took a route almost straight west, and in half an hour they were above a rugged region which the map informed them was in the state of new york. they selected a plateau with little timber and some kind of stream. they glided to the landing place, and presently her highness was standing like a great wild bird, poised on the hill. the boys hopped out of the cockpit, looked about to make sure that there were no warnings posted to keep off the premises, then out came the basket. "want to build a fire and toast some of these marshmallows?" bob proposed as he glanced at the food. "sure thing," jim agreed readily. he got busy and cleared a rock while bob gathered some bits of wood. in a few minutes they had the blaze crackling cheerily, and then they prepared to enjoy themselves thoroughly. mrs. fenton had put in almost a loaf of home made bread and butter sandwiches, a glass of plum jelly, six deviled eggs, slices of roast ham, olives, pickles, ginger cookies, milk, chocolate cake and candy. "if we eat all this her highness will never be able to take us up," bob grinned broadly as the things were set forth on the huge napkin. "intend to eat sparingly?" jim inquired. "not so that you could notice it," bob assured him. "when i come to think of it, i don't know where you're going to get any. i am hollow in both legs." "i know what i'm going to do," jim retorted promptly. "pitch right in and if you get more than a toe full, you'll be lucky." with that threat, they fell to and ate with keen appetites, and when bob finally stretched himself out on the rock with a huge sigh of contentment, the food was almost all gone. "gosh, i feel great." "i'm right with you, buddy," jim answered. he lay on his tummy and for a few minutes they watched the tiny coil of smoke that rose in a wavering line from the fire, which was burning low. austin did manage to throw on a few more sticks, that caught quickly, and crackled at a lively rate. "wonder what bradshaw and his gang have been doing while we tanked up," bob remarked. "wish we could have been in on the scrap." "wish we could, but we might have been in the way. if we had hung around that ravine waiting for the fireworks, the chaps who were parked there might have been warned and that would have spoiled the show," jim replied. "oh sure. by the noise they made, those chaps getting away may not have heard our little play. reckon, they beat it to their headquarters to tell the other fellows. seeing us again would have queered the party for the mounties," bob agreed. "yes, a plane is sort of conspicuous. bet that message told the chief, whoever he is, to surround the ravine and get the outlaws while the getting promised to be good." "i saw one of those fellows pull out his gun. gosh, they would have got bradshaw if he had come riding right into their arms." "it would have been some scrap, you bet. bradshaw's no slouch." "not a bit. wish he could come and see us at cap rock. say, with pat to help him, he's better off than if he were twins, or two policemen," bob laughed as he thought of the efficient pony. "some horse. glad he's got a good master." "you bet." they rested comfortably, and at last jim broke the silence again. "gosh, buddy, remember that story of the brothers who watched the smoke go up the chimney?" "surely. i was just thinking about them. the montgolfier boys. they were watching the fire and the smoke go up the chimney, and that set their brains to working and they wondered why the smoke went up. queer isn't it when you think that a little thing like that happening around one hundred and thirty years ago, should develop into air travel!" bob glanced toward her highness affectionately. "she doesn't look much like the paper bags they made their first experiments with, does she?" "i'll say she doesn't, nor the balloons that came a few years later. gosh, i'm glad we don't live at a time when people were so ignorant that they thought everything new was a devil of some kind," bob replied. "we'd be in a nice fix if we got shot at or stabbed with pitch forks every time we came down. but, even at that, jim, there are places in the world where the people are mighty savage. dad says in some of the south american provinces they've never been able to conquer all the tribes, or civilize them. they are almost the same as they were when columbus landed, and will fill a chauffeur full of poison arrows if they see a car driving through their land." "great horns. i'd like to go sailing over some of those places some time. lindbergh must have seen some mighty interesting places when he went cutting air-paths over mexico." "he sure did. and isn't he the grand lad for keeping his eyes open and his wits about him?" keen admiration for the lone eagle silenced them for a while, then bob reached out and took a triangle of chocolate cake. "i'll divvy up." "you needn't." jim made himself another sandwich. "don't know where my lunch is disappearing, but i find i have a little vacant space which needs fueling." at that they both sat up, made a second attack on the food, but finally were compelled to stop. "we may as well be soaring along," jim proposed. "let's go over canada and see if we can see any of the smoke from the ravine," bob suggested eagerly. "all right. you want to drive?" "you bet, and you watch for the scrap." they packed the remains of the food in the basket, stored it into the cock-pit, poured water over the embers of their fire and cleaned the spot with a piece of dry pine brush, then gave her highness an inspection. "great old bird," bob chuckled when they were sure that all was well. "she did a good job this morning." he took his place and jim occupied the passenger seat prepared to be the observer. a moment later her highness ran along the plateau, lifted her nose into the air, then climbed for all she was worth while jim examined the earth beneath them. there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the roar of the engine was a startling contrast to the calm forest they had just left. caldwell watched his controls as they raced at three thousand foot height. jim thoroughly enjoyed the inspection and occasionally made a note of something especially interesting, and often called his buddy's attention to the rolling globe. in less than an hour they were over the post where they had dropped the message, but if anyone was inside the shack, they did not come out to examine them. then bob turned sharply north, and soon they were about ten miles beyond the edge of the ravine and the place where they had stopped the mounty. "slack up a bit and go south," jim suggested through the speaking tube. "all right," bob agreed. he kicked the rudder, her highness circled, proceeded at a slower speed, and presently the spot in which they were so keenly interested, jumped into the lenses. at first glance it was as deserted as before, then jim saw a coil of smoke rolling up into the wind. concentrating with all his attention, he saw that some sort of shack was on fire, and just below the burning building, was a blackened spot that had been swept bare by the blaze. a couple of puffs snapped out from down the ravine, and a volley of answering shots spat viciously from the other end. "the fight's still on, buddy," jim bellowed, and bob looked over the side. they were getting close enough now so that they could see the battle fairly clearly, and they watched with tense interest. at one end they made out the canadian policemen closing in on the desperadoes, who seemed to be sliding back behind a screen of brush they had dug up, and just a few feet from them the wall of the ravine rose sharply cutting off their escape. "they'll have them in a minute," bob exclaimed excitedly. "suppose they can climb up that wall?" "it looks pretty jagged to me, like tiers of boulders, but, zowee--if they do get up, there's a line of blue-coats waiting for them," jim announced, and he would have danced up and down with joy, if he hadn't been strapped securely to the seat. bob paid strict attention to his business, then, as the attack was started, he decided it would be no harm to circle about and see the finish of the fight. he knew that his brother would be in accord with the plan, so he proceeded to carry it out. he zoomed higher, kicked the rudder, raced the engine and was soon pounding at three thousand feet, where he leveled off for the ring, and started to fly so they had a grand view of the drama below. jim kept his glasses fixed on the gully, and as the position of her highness was changed, he had a superior view of both sides of the maneuvers. suddenly the wall that cut off the criminals was directly in front of his gaze and he began to wonder about it. it seemed strange that men who were probably accustomed to protecting themselves and taking every precaution, should select a place where they could be so easily trapped. "the mounties must have given them a special surprise," he remarked to himself, but just the same, that did not seem entirely possible. it seemed to the boy that there must be a gang who used the ravine as a hangout, a means of slipping into the united states or canada whenever they wanted to, and they would need quite a force of men in order to keep themselves well posted on the habits of the men who patrolled the location. then it occurred to jim that the outlaws might not have used the place long and had not had time to prepare hasty exits. but that idea as it flashed through his brain did not seem at all plausible. the boy remembered that bradshaw had said the "gang" had been particularly successful in putting over every one of their schemes. that meant they were taking no chances, and surely they would none of them let themselves be backed against a high cliff where they were sure to be picked off with the rifles of the mounties if they tried to scale it, and run into the arms of other officers if they did manage to reach the top. he studied the group of men firing furiously from behind the brush pile and rocks, then he wondered why the men on top did not fire down at them. that was soon answered, for he saw that the edge was steep and soft, and even as he watched, he saw a man slip. his companion grabbed him by the arm and saved him from going over into the ravine. the slip dislodged a quantity of gravel and brush which slid down behind the desperadoes. two of them instantly whirled about ready to fire in case they were attacked from the rear. there still remained a few rods to be traversed before they would reach the cliff, and another man glanced up at the plane and shook his fist. "shouldn't like to kill any of them, but i wish we had a few tear bombs, or some little thing like that to put them out of business," jim lamented. he couldn't help feeling that although it looked as if the officers would soon get their men, they must have some cards still up their sleeves. "say, buddy," bob bellowed, "there comes pedro's covered wagon." he pointed, and although jim could not catch the words, he followed the direction and had no difficulty in picking out the highly colored truck which was moving forward slowly along a road that looked as if it was used very little. it was about a mile from the ravine in an especially isolated section and jim's eyes swept the vicinity as he thought that the huckster must be nearing his own home, but there wasn't a house for miles, and as near as the boy could make out, the road meandered along and finally slowed down near a dilapidated old rail fence which might mark an ancient boundary, or surround a pasture. rocks and brush were piled above it, and as the boy looked, he saw that the truck stopped. "perhaps the old guy has heard the shooting," he thought, but if pedro did, he gave no sign of either assisting or investigating. instead he dismounted with agility, with some sort of huge bundle in his arms, and in a moment he was standing on the rim of the wagon bed. it took but a moment for jim to realize that the man was throwing a canvas of dark green material over the brilliant truck. "bob, look," he bellowed. his step-brother, who had been giving his attention to the plane, glanced over and ahead, and his lips pursed up in a long drawn out whistle. by this time, which was really only a few minutes, her highness had passed over the end of the ravine, so bob zoomed again, banked, and came about. he didn't propose to miss anything. in that brief interval, the red and blue truck had been turned into a green one so like the forest surrounding it that it could hardly be picked out. jim saw pedro take his seat again, then move forward a way until he reached a wide spot where he turned around. "that old boy isn't all he pretends to be," the boy muttered. he would have liked to watch the "old boy" but he wanted to know what was going on in the ravine. he saw that the bandits were stretched in rows, only two men in the one nearest the blazing shack, while the mounties were making their way forward cautiously. as jim watched, he saw the rear row of outlaws slide swiftly back, then one of them disappeared under a rock. another followed quickly, while the men in front continued to fire rapidly, as if to cover the fact that there were fewer men at the guns. "great caesar's ghost. they've got an outlet there and are going to get away under the ground," jim shouted, but he couldn't make bob hear and he didn't want to take his eyes off the event even for an instant. quickly he swept the country-side for a cave entrance, and then, in a moment, he picked it up. a man emerged stealthily, raced through the woods, and came out close to pedro and his camouflaged truck. "by gum and thunder," jim exploded. vii a tail spin "buddy," jim screamed as he clutched bob by the collar. "they're going to get away." bob looked over the side to see what it was all about, and in a moment he gave a grunt. "huh!" caldwell took in the scene, then for a second he stared at his step-brother, mechanically bringing her highness around in a half circle. then jim had an idea. he pulled his note book from his pocket, fished out a pencil, and began to scribble hastily. when he had finished, bob read the message. 'they are crawling away under the hill and there's a truck, pedro's, but it's got a green cover, and is on an old road to the west, picking them up. the flying buddies.' caldwell grinned at the signature, and he was already guiding the plane toward the mounties, who were still peppering the cliff with their rifles. a few of them on both sides were edging up through the brush, but they were not firing, and the boys guessed that they expected to close in on the bandits, feeling sure the men could not escape. jim glanced about for a weight, but the only thing was the lunch basket, so he caught it up, saw that the cover was secure, then tied the note on the handle with his handkerchief so that it could be easily seen. "shoot," bob shouted when he was just enough below the canadians to allow the thing to fall close by them and not force a man to expose himself to the guns at the further end. the basket went over swiftly, spun around, tipped and tossed, and they saw it land. a man secured it without difficulty and waved an acknowledgment, while two others read the message. the boys couldn't see what action they took, nor did they hear the shrill blast of a whistle signaling to men stationed above the ravine. bob brought her highness about, and sent her over so they could get a good look at the scene in the woods. while they watched, two men slipped across the road and jumped into the back of the huge fruit truck, which was moving slowly. caldwell clenched his fists as he realized that the fellows would surely slip through the officers' fingers and he looked at jim, hoping that his step-brother would have another idea, but austin shrugged his shoulders. with anxious eyes bob scanned the road. he noticed that the truck was nearing a point which was high and narrow. on either side rain and winter storms had dug deep gullies, leaving barely room for one vehicle of any kind to traverse it in safety. glancing at the altimeter, bob read that the plane was less than a thousand feet up, so he banked, tipped her highness' nose, and zoomed in a swift, steep climb. the needle pointed to twelve hundred, fifteen, eighteen, but caldwell held her throttle wide open, going full blast and climbing at top speed. the wind shrieked through the wires and threatened to rip the wings from the fuselage, but the pilot did not stop until he was thirty-five hundred feet and some distance behind the truck. then he leveled off and the drama beneath them looked as if it were being performed by moving dots and dashes. the plane was brought about with a protesting howl, as caldwell looked at the globe with its tiny specks, the narrow, treacherous road and wee puffs of smoke. he made a swift calculation, came to a decision, and shut off the motor. the sudden silence was punctuated by faint booms of the guns cracking far below, and jim looked inquiringly at his step-brother, who was sitting calmly, but flushed as her highness' tail dropped; nose tipped foremost, then began to spin slowly, held up by the force of the wind from underneath, carried forward like a leaf caught in the breeze, and irresistibly drawn down by the laws of gravitation. jim hadn't the faintest idea what his step-brother hoped to gain by the reckless maneuver, but he saw that bob had some sort of plan, and that every fibre of his tense young body was on the alert, hands and mind ready to carry out his scheme. once they struck an air-pocket that bounced her highness in a most undignified manner, rolling her over on her back as if she were a kitten, but she finally tumbled out of it, and spun on and on. once the brother's eyes met and they grinned at each other reassuringly. "don't know what you're up to, buddy, but i'm right with you," said jim. "thanks. you might get your parachute in case i make a fluke. it's more likely to be that, than it is to do any good," answered bob, for they could speak to each other quite easily now. "how about your own umbrella?" jim demanded. "it's o. k.," answered bob, then added, "see that road?" "i can't help see it." "think there is room--i mean think it's wide enough so we can get into it without smashing the wings?" "ask me another. it's pretty narrow." jim studied the situation. "that truck is wide and there's quite a space on each side, but it will take some fancy landing to get the wheels on the road and miss those trees at the side. they grow like a wall, and as they are coming up to meet us, they look like the bottom of a nice torture chamber bristling with sharpened spikes." "nothing wrong with the picture. keep your eyes on that truck of pedro's. i'm going to try to drop in front of it. they can't get by, or turn back, and all i hope to do is delay them, but that may help, if i do it. keep a sharp lookout and tell me if i'm going too far either side. i don't want to get far ahead of them, not more than a few feet," bob explained. "bully idea, old man. if we smash up, i'll meet you at the gate. if you need any help, i'll tell st. peter you're a good kid and to let you in," jim promised gravely. "go on. _i'll_ have to do some tall lying to get him even to look at you," bob retorted. "here goes." he started to manipulate the controls, slowly bringing her highness as he wanted her, and jim scanned the scene ahead. he could see movement in the brush, men crawling or running on hands and knees, but not a uniform was in sight. he noted one thing in particular for which he was thankful. no one seemed to have noticed the falling plane, and that might be in their favor. also, he thought ruefully, it might not. if the mounties heard them dropping out of the sky, it would direct them more quickly to the road, but he thought of those men, armed to the teeth, desperate to get away, and he didn't try to imagine what they would do to the plane and the boys who threatened to frustrate their plans. austin had read of terrific battles with rum-runners who fought to the last ditch for their lives and stopped at nothing, and now he knew that if her highness was not hung in those spear-like pines, or wrecked on the treacherous road, the men behind them would instantly open fire and riddle them with bullets before they could move in the cock-pit. he glanced about for a sign of the canadian officers, but not one did he see, and by now they were so close to the ground that his range of vision was very limited. then bob brought her highness out of the spin, glided forward, her float ends scraping the edge of the truck as it slipped over, then, in another breathless second they were over the road, the wheels touched the ground, raced forward a few rods, slowed down, and at last came to a dead stop. "hey, what the blazes do you think you're doing?" it was the belligerent voice of the driver and did not sound at all like the musical tones of pedro. jim looked back while bob loosened the safety strap, but did not get out of it. "hop over and tinker about," bob directed, and jim obeyed. "you get out of the way," bellowed pedro. "oh, hello, old man," jim called good naturedly. "our engine stalled. guess we got something in it. maybe you can give me a hand." "i got no time. get out of the way, fast. i'm in a hurry." "sorry, we won't be a minute." bob was also struggling in the cock-pit as if something was out of order, and after a minute, during which pedro made the air blue with curses, he got back in his seat. "guess we got it," he shouted. "beastly sorry to keep you." bob tried out the motor. it thundered smooth as silk, the plane moved a few inches, coughed apologetically, then stopped. "come on, now, old girl," bob coaxed, and again he set the motor humming, but the propeller hung idle. caldwell did not dare to move forward until he was ready to fly, for there wasn't a foot to spare on the road ahead, which curved sharply. frantically the step-brothers tried out this and that, including the compass, but it didn't seem to help them a bit, and they were afraid to look over their shoulders at the fuming truck-man. "what's the matter with her?" pedro hadn't been able to sit still a moment longer, so he climbed from his seat and strode along the gully to the cock-pit. "hanged if i know. she never acted this way before," jim answered innocently, and the man scowled savagely. "what you doing here anyway?" pedro persisted. "great guns," bob looked up into the man's face. "didn't you see us stall up there, and come down tail spinning! you are darned lucky we didn't smash up in front of you, that would have been something to cuss about. it takes hours to clear up a busted plane and she digs a hole in the ground ten feet deep. that would have held you up good and proper. now, get back to your bus, we'll fix this thing as fast as we can and be out of your way." "you kids look here." pedro shook his fist in bob's face. "you be out of here by the time i get my engine started, or i send you both to hell, fast, more fast than your plane," he promised. "thanks a lot, old timer. every little favor is greatly appreciated," bob answered, and he scowled quite as fiercely as the canuck. "and if you send us to hell this afternoon, maybe we won't be lonesome," jim added. "can you run a plane?" "no," pedro snapped savagely. "well, we can, but not if we're ghosts. put that in your peace pipe and get on your own wave length. you don't own this end of canada. what are you doing here? if you can answer that, i've got another to ask you and it's right on the tip of my tongue--" "stick your tongue out at him," bob suggested. "i'd rather punch his jaw, i don't like his face. give me that wrench and i'll tap him for sap, he's full of it. run along, old boy--don't you know your onions, or haven't you got any this load?" jim demanded. "you get out of the way." "you go back to your bus, you make us nervous so we can't tell whether the tail ensemble is in front or back--" "you get out--" pedro insisted, and then as the boys merely stared at him, he started toward the truck, and through a slit in the big car, jim caught a glimpse of a man's face, and heard a soft signaling whistle as some one called the driver to his seat. quickly the big fellow climbed up, and jim, realizing that trouble was close by, buckled his safety strap, while bob too made ready for a quick get-away. "if i keep the engine going, it will locate us for those mounties, but they're afoot, or horseback, and can't come so fast," bob whispered. "start the noise and i'll watch behind. if i give you a kick in the ribs, lift us up," jim replied under his breath. in a moment more the engine was racing again, then it really did stop, but this time it was by accident and looked as if it was too surprised to go, for at that instant, bob caught sight of uniforms, and a sharp command was issued. "climb down out of that, pedro." the boys looked back and saw the truck-driver's face turn green with terror. "lively now, no funny business." pedro literally tumbled to the ground, his legs shaking as if he had the ague, and his teeth chattering. "i--i wasn't touching 'em," he stammered. "sure, i know you didn't, but you were impolite to american citizens and you ought to know better. stand on your feet." then the boys saw more than a dozen silent figures surrounding the truck. "i didn't lay a hand on 'em," pedro declared. "it's well for you that you didn't send them to hell as you promised. what are you doing here and what have you got a green cover on your bus for? you went down the line this morning and you aren't reported back yet. come, explain yourself." the man was on horseback and evidently the chief of the outfit. jim guessed that he was playing for a few minutes to give his men time to close in, then he snapped again, "cuff him. you boys let fly." immediately the truck wagon was literally alive with men swarming over it. the doors at both ends were jerked open, and in another second, crouching outlaws were being tumbled over each other. some of them opened fire, but their guns were knocked out of their hands, and in less time than it takes to tell about it, the fight was over. fifteen prisoners were lined up on the road, while the officer looked at them calmly. "put them back in and take them along." the crowd was bundled back, this time each was securely handcuffed, then a familiar voice called from the woods. "we got the last of them out of the hole, chief. what shall we do with them?" "pile them in here," the chief answered, then, as the group came stumbling forward, the man went on, but his voice was stern, "these your texas friends, bradshaw?" "yes sir," bradshaw replied quickly. "you'd better bring them to headquarters for obstructing traffic." "all right, sir," bradshaw agreed. "what'll we do with her highness? put her under arrest?" "who is her highness?" "the bus. i was introduced a few days ago." "thought united states didn't like nobility." there was a tiny smile on the chief's lips and a twinkle in his eyes. "how do you explain the title, bradshaw?" "i don't know, sir, unless they are of irish descent--" "we are not," jim declared positively. "you've done devilment enough today to be pure-bloods," bradshaw informed them. the chief dismounted and came close to the fuselage and held out his hand. "i want to thank you for your devilment, boys," he smiled and they both thought he was a grand looking man, the sort one reads about. "we didn't do much of anything," jim stammered. "we like canada," bob added for he was less fussed and shook the officer's hand vigorously. "if we've helped, we're mighty glad," jim drawled, then went on, "but we'd have been wash-outs if it hadn't been for her highness. i think being among nobility made her do her job extra well." "no doubt. is she all right, or has something gone wrong with her?" "her highness is fine as silk," bob declared emphatically. "nothing is the matter with her, sir." "glad to hear it. now, can you get her out of this trap?" "surely. it'll be a close shave, but she'll do it." "all right. wish you would and let the truck by. and, next time you are in canada, look me up, there's something important i want to show you," the chief told them. "we'll be mighty glad to see you--" "but we're not coming if it's one of those parties with all the world looking on," jim added quickly. the chief laughed. "we'll spare your feelings, but if you'll come, we'd be glad to have you dine with us some evening, only just our own crowd--all these fellows you know, and the cook." "that'll be fun," jim agreed. "we'll let you know some night when we're not having corned-beef and cabbage. so long." "so long." bob opened her up, the engine thundered, the propeller whirled madly. her highness slid forward, lifted, cleared the curve gracefully, zoomed and climbed. both boys waved at the men, and a moment later jim saw the truck load of outlaws being driven to some unknown point. that is, the point was not known to the boys, but they knew it was a good strong jail. "it's been quite a day. anything left in that basket?" jim asked through the tube. "left in the basket! well, if there is the squirrels are eating it back there in that ravine. you nut, you threw it overboard with your note," bob answered. "great guns, so i did, and it's your aunt's basket. say, hop down in some town and let's buy another for her," jim urged. "oh she won't mind, there's no hurry. we can get her one when we drive to north hero," bob objected. "i know she won't mind, but just the same, let's get another to take back with us, and something because we lost the napkins and dishes," jim insisted. "say, what's your rush?" bob demanded impatiently. "we want a basket again, don't we? don't we want to go up tomorrow? well, we can't lose all your aunt's baskets and expect her to pack grub stakes for us, can we?" jim answered. "that's so. we better get her a couple," bob agreed quickly. he consulted the map. "st. john's is the nearest," he announced, so gravely he turned her highness' nose in the direction of the town, because, when the matter was put to him that way, he could see the need of keeping mrs. fenton supplied with baskets. viii ablaze for the next three days after the boys' exploit in canada, it rained. not gentle showers, but a good stiff down-pour that drenched the land, swelled the lake, and ruined young crops. her highness was kept in the carriage shed under the tool house, because besides raining as if it were never going to stop, there was thunder and lightning, and hours of pitch blackness. both jim and bob would have liked nothing better than to go soaring up and battle with the elements but they knew that such an adventure would cause mrs. fenton terrific worry every moment they were out of her sight, so they contented themselves with the radio, phonograph, some jolly old books they found in the attic, and swims between storms. several times they caught glimpses of the strange boy as he went splashing by to and from the garden, and they watched his run-off with considerable interest. "if he keeps the water down on that hole land it will save the alfalfa meadow," mr. fenton remarked thoughtfully. "does he seem to be doing it, uncle norman?" "so far the water isn't any higher." "jinks, that's great," jim exclaimed with enthusiasm. he rather envied corso's young nephew who disregarded weather and waded barefoot along the road, his overalls rolled above his knees, and not even a splattering automobile racing past him, sending sheets of water from all four wheels, seemed to disturb him. the morning of the fourth day broke clear and fine, the sky velvet blue, and not a cloud in sight. the step-brothers came down stairs with joyous whoops, and young caldwell danced his aunt about the kitchen. "well, my land, if you want me to dance with you bob, you will have to make it a reel or a jig--" "let it be a jig," bob answered promptly and taking her hand he began the clattery dance while jim played an accompaniment on the mouth organ. but in a few minutes mrs. fenton had to stop for breath. "where did you learn to do that?" she demanded. "i never supposed that any young one could do it these days." "in school," bob answered. "you ought to see jim highland fling." "what's all the shouting about?" mr. fenton asked. he had just come in with the brimming milk pails. "look at the weather," jim laughed. "it's enough to make an airplane do a tail spin," bob added. "no doubt, but i hope her highness doesn't do any more--" "more?" the boys chorused. "canadian chap telephoned me yesterday to inquire if you live here, and he said that you two had made the country safe for the mounted police--" "aw, go on," bob exclaimed in disgust. "what did they do that for?" demanded jim. "in the course of his duty," mr. fenton smiled. "we'll be very much obliged if you will give us the details of the war while we breakfast. we want to know all about it. it isn't every day that exciting things happen around us and we feel that we have been slighted--" "that's all right, mr. fenton. bob did most of it. i'll tell you the whole story--" "i did not do most of it," bob denied emphatically. "if you leave out anything you did, i'll tell them." "fair enough," mr. fenton laughed. "now sit down, satisfy the first pangs of hunger, then begin," he ordered, and the boys took their places. between the two of them, the fentons were able to get a fairly interesting account of what happened, and when the story was finished, mrs. fenton looked at them soberly. "my, my, you might both have been killed. that was why you got me those new baskets. i thought there was something queer about your losing it," mrs. fenton exclaimed. "if you had lost it, or forgotten it, i should not have minded one bit; but if you had told me how you happened to throw it overboard, i should have been glad." "we wanted to be sure that we had a basket for next time," bob grinned cheerfully. "we expect there will be other next times." "my land of goodness, there's the mail man. he looks like a drowned rat. come right in, harvey." the r.f.d. man wore boots that came to his thigh, and even at that he was splashed with mud. "got a registered letter, and another one that looks important, so i didn't put them in the box," the man explained. "some rain we've had. did you know, fenton, that the carrying point is covered? the water is going over it like a mill race, and i had all i could do to keep the wheels under me. loaded the car up with rocks or i'd have been swimming around after the letters." "my land sakes alive, is it as bad as that! here jim, this letter seems to be for you." mrs. fenton gave austin a long envelope, which he accepted with surprise. in the corner was a canadian stamp. "looks like it's from your friends across the border," mr. fenton said. jim opened it promptly, and scanned the contents, then he smiled with relief that it wasn't more formidable. the salutation was as he had signed the note he dropped to the mounties in the ravine. 'flying buddies. gentlemen: it would give us great pleasure if you will join us in an informal dinner tomorrow evening at seven p.m. in going over the off duty hours, we find that most of the men who participated in the affair at the ravine can be present. you have our solemn word that the dinner is merely a friendly one, and you will not be embarrassed by speeches. as a matter of fact you may be aroused to the fighting point by the uncomplimentary remarks of your hosts. telephone me if the time is not convenient to you, and believe me, very sincerely yours, allen ruhel.' "great guns and little fish-hooks, that will be fun," bob shouted. "it means tonight," jim reminded his step-brother. "it says tomorrow." "but it's dated yesterday." "that's so. we'll get her highness diked out, and be ready. suppose we better wear real clothes under our flying suits--" "dinner coats," jim agreed. "if it's informal we don't have to do more than that--" "brush our teeth," bob suggested. they showed the letter to the fentons and the man looked grave. "i hope they are careful what they say," he remarked seriously. "what do you mean?" bob demanded. "these international affairs are ticklish things. if you get riled and throw a soup plate, or some little thing like that, it might bring on a war. it doesn't take much to bring on a war--" "there isn't a soup plate handy, uncle norman, but i know where aunt belle keeps her potato masher. you want to be very careful that you do not start any internal wars; they are the worst sort." "guess i better get outside if that's the case," he chuckled, and went for his own high boots. "let's have a look at the world," jim proposed, then added, "old champlain looks kind of high to me. is it usually so?" "suppose it would be after so much rain," bob put in. "no it isn't," mrs. fenton answered, and she looked very serious. "it's higher now than it's been in years, and with the rain stopped, it will fill more. there are so many streams, some big ones, that empty into it all around." she went with the boys to the back veranda and glanced across anxiously. "i can't see gull rock at all, and fisher's island looks as if half of it is under water." "if it comes flooding too high, we'll take you and uncle norman up in her highness out of danger," bob promised. "we can get in the boats if necessary, bob, and we've got a lot of high land for the stock, so that will be all right, but there are many of the people here who have small farms. my land sakes alive, i expect that some of them are in a bad way right this minute. i'll go telephone." she hurried into the house, and in a moment the boys heard her talking with some neighbors. "let's have a walk around," bob suggested. "we won't need to wheel her highness out. look at the carriage shed," jim exclaimed as he happened to glance in that direction and saw the water lapping up under the wide doors. "cracky. let's see if she's all right." "we'll have to take our shoes off--or get boots." "i'll see if aunt belle has any extra pairs around." he went inside, while jim surveyed the turbulent waters which had risen several feet and were thrashing up to the edge of mrs. fenton's flower garden, and was more than half way across the lawn when the two boys first saw it. "come on," bob called, and jim went inside to the shed. "here are some boots. aunt belle says they are water-proof, but not very handsome. they have been patched." "they will be just the thing." presently the pair had their feet in boots several sizes too large for them, but they grinned, and went down into the yard. their first care was her highness. the water had run up a little way under her, but she hadn't suffered any damage. jim got into the cock-pit and shifted the wheels to the floats, and that done the boys continued the tour of inspection. "if it rains any more, by george, there will be the deuce to pay." they went to the edge of the lake, but could not follow its rim because the inundations were deep and many of them ended in treacherous swampy stretches. where the cedar-rimmed cliff came close to the lake's edge, the water pounded high above all previous marks, and some of the lower ones were being undermined by the strength of the waves. "looks like a regular ocean," jim remarked thoughtfully as they stood on a promontory which jutted out in defiance of old champlain's fury. "say, where's that carrying point?" "further down. about half way to the village. remember the day we were coming up and you noticed a neck of land, lake on both sides, that connected the two larger sections of north hero?" "oh sure. little stretch with a beach and roadway." "that's it. mom told me it got its name from revolutionary days. pirates and smugglers coming down from canada with loads of goods in small boats, carried their boats across this piece and would get away from the officers, or whoever happened to be chasing them. it's quite historic. a bigger craft coming along would have to go all the way around and by that time the smugglers could lose them plenty. they'd hide among some of the lower islands, or even go on straight." "great old place. obliging of champlain to arrange itself so conveniently. smashing guns, look at that water. it's hammering in all directions. too bad if it spoils crops, but it sure looks as if it is going to. did you hear your aunt say whether the turkeys are dying off because of the dampness?" "hezzy reported a hundred have turned up their toes." "rotten. why don't they have a good warm place to keep them when the weather is had?" jim exclaimed wrathfully. "that's the funny part of it, buddy, they have got a real up-to-the-minute house, brooders and everything," bob replied soberly, then added, "gosh, i do wish we could do something about it." "well, we can't keep them from dying off, that's a cinch," jim answered. "let's take her highness and have a look over the place." "right-o, old man." they turned about away from the destructive waters and hurried as fast as the clumsy boots would permit, to the carriage house, where they floated the plane out, closed the door after them, and piled into the cock-pit. "got enough gas?" "plenty." presently her highness was thundering above the lake and after a few circles over the land, which gave the boys an idea of the havoc being wrought among the islands, jim headed her toward the end of isle la motte and in a few minutes they were cruising at low speed above the turkey farm. it too had suffered from the rain, but its buildings were located on high ground which was well drained so that even now it was drying rapidly. the boys could see the turkeys in the run-ways and they knew that until the vicinity was no longer drenched, the delicate birds could not be allowed to roam in the larger pens. as there seemed to be nothing special they could learn, they proceeded to fly across the property, and soon they were above the section where they had seen the men hiking the first day they had attempted to visit hezzy. just beyond the strip of forest, which was quite dense, they saw a long, comparatively bare slope toward the opposite side of the isle and they easily discerned several men moving about as if they were working. "there's more turkeys," jim remarked through the tube and bob nodded that he could see them. "probably they are fixing a place on this side because it's more sheltered," the younger boy suggested. "i see hezzy down there." sure enough the farm's foreman was striding along the edge of the meadow. he paused suddenly, glanced up at them, then disappeared quickly among the trees. "i suspect that he doesn't like us," jim grinned, and bob laughed heartily. "sometime we'll come over and tell him we want to help catch the thieves," the younger boy suggested. "let's hop down now. we can land on that field." "we'd better not. we might land on some small birds," bob replied, and jim agreed that probably it would be safer to wait and have their talk with hezzy at the house. as there didn't seem to be much more to see the boys rode on, across to the new york side of champlain, and before they decided to return they were overtaken by the mail plane. bob, who was at the controls, waggled his wings, and instantly the other pilot responded. he grinned as he flew by, and they waved as if he were an old friend. "it's the guy we saw the other day," jim declared, and bob nodded. the mail plane went racing north, and the boys started for home. it felt good being in the air again, but they were going to the dinner and they wanted to give her highness her weekly inspection, besides replenish the gas supply. that evening, with their best suits under flying togs, they hopped off again, this time making straight north toward the border. they soared grandly beneath a brilliant dome of colors reflected by the setting sun, roared above canada, and in half an hour came down on the flying field where they found allen ruhel and sergeant bradshaw, their uniforms swank, and their faces wearing wide grins of welcome. "glad you could come," ruhel greeted them. "we surely owe you a swell spread--" bradshaw began, but the chief interrupted him. "perhaps we do, but they are not going to get much more than the usual mess. i had to promise that or they would not have come." "how's pat?" bob inquired as they were led toward the long mess hall. "he's so set up over my promotion there's no doing anything with him," bradshaw answered soberly. "i may have to trade him off for a yellow cat." "any time you want to trade him, let us know," jim put in quickly. "i know you boys. you'd spoil him more than i have." they were ushered into a barracks-like building and were soon in the mess hall where already two dozen of canada's finest men were waiting. the boys recognized a few of their faces, though not many, but introductions were gotten over with little ceremony, and the dinner started. because of the young american guests of honor there was no wine served, but that did not detract from anyone's good humor, and the party was an enormous success. bradshaw told the boys that the outlaw gang they had been trying to capture for such a long time, were at last almost all rounded up. "thanks to your good help," he added. "jinks, wish we could have been down in the battle," bob lamented. "i say, didn't you have enough of it?" the chief laughed. "it seems to me you were rather in the thick of things, you know. i expected any moment the blighters would turn their guns on your wings. they would have made their get-away if you had not let us know about the hole they were crawling through. did bradshaw tell you that it was fitted up like a war-time trench, with living quarters, periscopes and what-not?" "great guns--oh, what happened to pedro?" "he's a perfectly good canuck gone wrong. he'll pay for his sins with the rest. a couple of them got away, and a few of the ones we caught are americans." "do you have to send them back?" jim asked. he rather felt the fellows should take their punishment with their gang. "neither your government nor their families have shown any disposition to intervene in their behalf," the chief smiled, then went on, "as a matter of fact, from their records in the states, i think your department of justice is likely to send us a vote of thanks for apprehending them." "i hope they do," jim responded. after that the courses went on merrily. there were jokes, jolly stories, no end of kidding back and forth, and finally the dessert was served. a few minutes later the chief rose. "i promised our american friends that there would be no speeches tonight, so i've kept my word, but some of the boys will have a presentation. stand up, you men of texas, and take your medicine." the boys obeyed, and flushed crimson around their collars as the chief made his way to their places. he opened a small box which seemed to have some ribbons on the royal purple velvet surface. the man held them up and solemnly pinned one to each boy's coat. each medal was of two ribbons, the american flag and the british, arranged on a bar side by side, and suspended from them was the mounty insignia in the middle, a pair of wings, and from the wings hung a tiny basket. "to the flying buddies" was engraved on the back. "you can thank your lucky stars that this isn't the french section of canada and you don't have to be kissed," bradshaw informed them. "we're grateful for that," jim laughed in confusion. "this has been a swell party, but what we did, if it was any good, was as much for our own country as for yours, but let me tell you this, if we ever catch you in texas, we'll get back at you--we'll pin horse-shoes on every one of you," bob declared. "is that a threat or a promise?" "both," bob laughed. "my dad has a sizy sort of ranch. it will hold the whole bunch, so if any of you come to our state we'll be mortally offended if you don't show up at our house," jim supplemented. he was recovering his poise, and then the mounties cheered them until the rafters rang. an hour later they were allowed to depart, and every man promised to call for the horseshoe. "that was a dandy party," jim chuckled later as they circled above the field again. "they are a grand bunch," bob declared enthusiastically. he leveled off her highness, and started in a southerly course that would take them down over new york state a way, but the wind was from the west and would drive them toward their own goal. the night was starless, although there seemed to be few clouds, and the air was heavy with moisture as if it would be raining before morning. the step-brothers did no more talking. they were both busy with their own thoughts. their minds were occupied with the evening's fun, but in a few minutes bob began to think of his aunt and uncle and wished very hard that he could do something to help them. the rain had ruined a large part of the crops, and although there was time to plant other things, the year promised to be another bad one for the fentons. the boy resolved to write and tell his mother. mom somehow always had a suggestion that was worth while. if we could only find out what happens to the turkeys, he sighed and he resolved to pay hezzy a visit the next day if possible. suddenly, in the distance they caught a glimpse of a flash of light across the sky. it disappeared almost at once, then they picked it up again. "bet it's the mail plane," jim shouted. "guess it is," bob agreed. he watched the plane getting closer, and presently there was no mistaking the huge machine that came droning toward them. their altitude was five thousand feet, and the other pilot would pass almost over them. it was mighty chummy to meet a pal of the air, so bob zoomed up, and soon her highness was racing beside the bigger machine. the pilots waved greetings, waggled their wings, then, as the boys had to turn eastward, they waved a good-night, turned abruptly and shot across the other's course. the man in the cock-pit nodded, and in a minute they were a mile apart, but jim was watching the diminishing lights with interest. suddenly he caught his brother's arm and twisted him around. "something's gone wrong," he bellowed; he didn't need to, for bob could see. at that moment there was a blaze, a leaping tongue of flame and the plane started to totter crazily toward the ground. "thundering mars--he's on fire!" ix the mail must go through "bellowing bulls," bob yelled at the top of his lungs as he realized that something catastrophic was taking place in the air and that the good-natured young pilot was in danger of his life. "blistering blazes," jim exclaimed. neither boy could hear the other's ejaculation, but they were tense and rigid as they sat for a paralyzed instant staring through the darkness toward that flaming plane which was beginning to drop like some kind of lost star out of the blackness of the sky. mechanically young caldwell kicked the rudder, his fingers adjusted the controls, and her highness came around with a screech of the wind through the struts and a shrill whine of the wires. he opened her up wide, zoomed, then leveling off, raced toward that flaming, careening plane. with lightning rapidity the boy calculated to a nicety the speed of the doomed mail-plane, and into both their brains flashed the ghastly question as to the sort of spot on to which she was making her plunge. was it smooth open country, or was it thick forests where the fire would spread and become a violent furnace before it could be subdued, or was it into some little sleeping village, whose residents would be seriously jeopardized? as she made her way downward the plane cast a bright glow about herself, like a funeral bier, but the light only accentuated the night beyond the rim. at racing speed her highness cut through the heavens like a thin streak of brightness, and in a minute she was above her falling fellow. the altimeter read three thousand feet, so bob climbed higher, circled when he was sure he would have the grade he wanted, then, tipping the nose almost vertical, he raced downward, the engine roaring. it was breath-taking, but both boys were keenly alert. in a moment they were beside the burning plane and following it, at a safe distance, toward the ground. they could see the mail pilot struggling with the controls, then he noticed them, grinned, and with a wave of his hand, he stopped the battle, loosened his safety strap, and stepped over the rim of the cock-pit. he seemed as cool as if he were doing a stunt at a fair-ground. a moment later he waved again, then jumped into space, making as wide a leap as possible. the two machines plunged on and the man's body seemed to roll, then drop swiftly, then the parachute blossomed out wide and white as it spread open to save him. "whew," bob whistled softly. he could not watch the escaping pilot a moment longer, but he switched on all the light he had in an effort to pick out a landing place. one thing they were positive of, they were not over a village, for there wasn't even a fueling signal visible. on they went, and at last jim caught his step-brother's shoulder. "woods," he said, making his lips form the word so the boy would get it, and bob nodded that he understood. by this time they were so close to the ground that the descending furnace cast a brighter glow, and they could see the tree tops standing out like sentinels. at five hundred feet bob pulled her highness out of the mad drop, leveled off and circled in swift short turns. he maintained the height, and the two looked over the side. presently they saw the pilot dropping toward them for his speed had been checked by the parachute. at the same instant there was a dull thud and the mail plane smashed into the ground. the flames leaped furiously, and while they ate hungrily at their prey, they lighted the vicinity brilliantly. "over there," jim pointed, and bob looked. he saw a clear place, and shutting off the motor, glided to a landing. before her highness came to a full stop, jim was out of the cock-pit. he glanced anxiously at the work of destruction, then looked up to the pilot, but he gasped with dismay as he discovered that the fellow was over trees and seemed unable to spill enough air to guide himself out of their reach. in a second a huge branch caught the silk and held it firmly, while the man dangled like a pendulum thirty feet above the hard ground. a fall would mean broken bones. as the step-brothers were texans first and foremost, ranchers' sons, they never went anywhere without a rope. in fact they would have felt as if they were not fully dressed, so now long lariats were coiled under their seats. it took only a second to secure them, then the two raced toward the tree. "hey you lads, get the mail out of the plane," the pilot shouted when he saw them approaching. "you go back and do that while i get him down," jim said quickly to his brother. "the three of us can probably save it all." "take my rope." bob handed it over, then started to save the mail or as much of it as he could, while austin ran on to the tree. "be careful. i'm trying to figure out a way to get onto the branch, but if i swing. i'll come down," the pilot called. "i'll look out. hold yourself steady." jim had the rope in his hands, but a flying suit is a cumbersome garment and hampering. he stood away on a slight knoll, gave the lariat a few expert turns, then sent it forth. it shot under the pilot's feet, opened wide, rose quickly and was jerked securely. "good work, buddy," the pilot called. "fix it so it won't cut you and i'll get in that nearest tree," jim answered. he was already beside the tree, and looping the end of the rope about his wrist as he started to climb. it was no easy task to prevent the lariat from tangling with the branches, but luckily the tree was a yellow pine, and one side of its trunk had only a few short stubs. the boy went like a monkey and was soon a few feet higher than the pilot. he fastened the end of the rope to a stout branch, took an instant to decide what his next move would be, then he made up his mind, and began to crawl out closer to the man he was trying to save. "careful that doesn't smash," the chap warned. "all right. get loose from your parachute. i'll make a hitch here, so you'll come just under me--" "sure that will hold us both?" "it's a good green branch." "you make your hitch, then get back to the trunk," the pilot proposed. "it will be safer." jim obeyed. hanging on with one hand, he leaned forward to watch. the pilot released himself from the straps, then eased himself by hanging on with one hand. finally he let go, and swung beneath by the lariat. vigorously he sent his body forward, grasped the branch, hauled himself upright, then made his way to his rescuer. "all o. k." "i'll tell the world. come along and we'll help the kid." scrambling to the ground was much simpler than making the ascent, and presently they joined young bob, who was courageously hauling out bags of mail. "gosh," he whistled. "here, take hold." the pilot directed the work and in a few minutes the mail bags were all out of the compartment, and none too soon, for the flames had gained great headway, and were swiftly devouring the plane. they dragged the bags to a safe distance. "i say, we have some pyrene," bob announced; "i was a boob not to think of it before." he ran for the tank, they helped him with the tiny hose, and in a few minutes the blaze was extinguished. the darkness seemed to settle about them more thickly than ever, but the light from her highness showed clearly so they could see their way to the plane. quickly the mail pilot glanced over it and he smiled with admiration. "some grand little bus," he told them. "you bet. where can we take you?" "to albany. we got to get the mail there too," the pilot informed them and the brothers glanced at each other. her highness would certainly carry the three of them and some freight, but whether she was capable of such a load was another matter. "the mail must get through," the pilot repeated. "we'll try it," jim responded. "one of you fellows might stay here," the pilot suggested. "that won't be necessary," jim said quickly. taking the mail to albany would be a task, but coming back to find the one left behind would be an all night's job. anyway, her highness had never been pressed into service for such an emergency and he was determined to leave nothing behind if that could be avoided. the mail man was already dragging bags from the pile. luckily none of them were very bulky and the three set to work to fit them into the freight compartment. that full, what was left was stored in the extra passenger seat. "i'll sit back there," bob offered. "i'm smallest." "all right," jim agreed. he was rather glad the younger boy had made the suggestion. caldwell had piloted her highness through her latest hazard and must be fagged. "pile in." he took a moment to inspect the strip he would follow in the take-off, then leaped to his own seat. the third air-man was beside him. "i'm much obliged to you lads for what you did for me tonight," he said. "you don't know what a relief it was to see you tearing to help me. had an idea that your backs were turned in my direction and didn't hope that you had seen me." "i was watching you as we went along. we were about a mile over, so of course we came back," jim replied casually. "glad we were able to get to you in time." further conversation was impossible, for the boy opened the throttle and her highness roared. the engine ran smoothly, the machine started, but it seemed to jim as if she would never lift. he could see the pines leaping toward them, then up went her nose and she was off the ground, soared laboriously and dangerously close to the trees, then began to climb. that part accomplished, austin was relieved, and he concentrated on the long grill ahead of him. he wished that he had discussed the course with this man who must know every inch of air along his route, but the whole affair had taken but a short time. the excitement had driven a great many things from his mind, so now he began to calculate his course, tracing it on the map. in coming up from texas the boys had stopped off to see the capital city and its twin across the river. he could depend upon the pilot to direct him to the proper field, so coming down would be all right. the unaccustomed load made her highness' management quite different from ordinary occasions when she had carried only an extra passenger, but the mail had to go through, regardless of men and machines, and the youthful part-owner of the plane was proud of her performance now, but he hoped hard that they would meet nothing on the way which would add to their difficulties. he thought of the fentons. they were early birds and probably in bed long ago, but bob's aunt was a nervous woman and she might not sleep soundly because of their absence. they could let her know from albany what was delaying them, but that might only add to her anxiety. well, they had to make the best of it and it was rather an honor to be entrusted with u. s. mail. he tried to imagine what the bags contained. probably a great many of the letters were highly important. people would not be sending their communications by the swiftest way if the matters were not urgent. on, on, and on they soared through the night. the clock on the dial said twelve thirty. it seemed much longer than that since they had left their jolly hosts in canada. once the mail pilot touched his arm, then raising his hand as if he were an orchestra leader, he motioned to go higher, jim nodded that he understood, so began to climb. they were fifteen thousand feet when he got the signal to level off. then he pointed to the speaking tube, and the pilot nodded that he would use it if he had anything to say. one o'clock came, and one-thirty. they had been going over an hour. probably the mail was late, for jim was sure the regular plane was a fast bus. her highness could do high speed too, but not with such a load. it was nearly two o'clock when the pilot picked up the tube and gave directions. later he pointed. "there's the field." it was brilliantly lighted and the boy could see figures moving about the drome. as he glided down he noticed men looking at him curiously. he decided that they expected the mail plane and were surprised at his arrival. when he came to a stop a chap ran to the fuselage. "seen anything of mason--the--" "right here, old timer," mason said quickly. "thank the lord. we got word that a blazing plane was sighted, and we've been on pins and needles ever since. a couple of canadians are out trying to locate you." "i'm o. k., and so is the mail, thanks to these youngsters." mason prepared to hop out, and he turned to jim. "you didn't tell me your name. i'm phil mason." "mine's jim austin, and my step-brother is bob caldwell. we've been visiting relatives in vermont," jim explained. by that time bob was out of his seat and a couple of men were removing the bags. "glad to know you lads. you want to bunk here the rest of the night--" "thanks, no, but i should appreciate a supply of gas. i'm not sure i have enough to make the trip back," jim answered. "gas, of course, you can have all you want. here you--" he shouted directions, and a mechanic came on the run. the task of re-fueling was accomplished with efficiency, but the boys had to shake hands with a lot of relieved pilots who were grateful that one of their number was not lying wrecked and helpless miles away. finally they permitted the buddies to go, and this time bob was beside his brother. "want me to pilot, old man?" he offered. "did you get any sleep back there?" jim demanded. "no, i watched the duplicate controls. thought you might need help." "then you sit beside me and take a nap now. if i get so my eyes won't stay open. i'll wake you up and let you do the work," jim promised. "so long, buddies," mason shouted, just as the throttle was opened. bob waved his hand, and jim nodded. taking off on the drome was simple, and in a moment her highness, no longer loaded to the hilt, leaped into the air. "great old girl," jim exclaimed proudly, and the plane responded eagerly. the course was set, and while they went, roaring back toward the northern part of vermont, bob's head nodded and finally dropped forward as sleep overtook him. jim grinned affectionately at the young fellow and made up his mind that he wouldn't disturb that rest if he could possibly help it. the trip home was uneventful but jim did have to blink hard several times to keep his eyes open. however, he managed it, but the first streaks of dawn were softening the sky before the fenton cove met his tired vision. with a whistle of relief that at last it was over, he glided down toward the carriage house, and as the plane shot forward, he heard the house door open quickly. "is that you, boys?" mrs. fenton's tone was distressed. then bob woke up, blinked, and stared. "thunder and mars, why didn't you let me do part of it?" he demanded. "we're all right," jim shouted to aunt belle, and added to his step-brother, "i'll let you have the honor of putting her ladyship up if you like." "you'd better," bob growled. "next time i won't go to sleep. you go in and hop to bed. i'll explain to aunt belle." that arrangement was entirely satisfactory to jim, and in five minutes he was in their room, in ten minutes he was stretched out in his pajamas and sound asleep. it was noon when he opened his eyes. bob was on the second cot and was just turning over. "hello, old timer." "hello yourself. what day is it?" "same one. say, jim did you notice the lake when we got home?" "didn't notice a blooming thing. is the house afloat?" "not yet. it rained some more. woke me up about nine o'clock. i'd thought of going over today and have a talk with hezzy, but i changed my mind," bob announced. "wise lad." "you never did cotton up to hezzy did you?" "not so you could notice it." "well, i've been doing some thinking. seems kind of queer to me that he should have sneaked under those trees yesterday when we were going over. i've been wondering what he was doing on that side of the property. if it was all right, what the heck did he dodge us for?" "ask me another," jim yawned. "did your aunt think we had flown to the bottom of the lake?" "she sure did, but luckily she didn't miss us until she got up. our door was open and she saw the beds--then she got scared for fair and came flying down stairs. about that time we came rolling in. i am glad she didn't have any more time to fret." "same here." just then they heard mrs. fenton come tip-toeing up the stairs and they both closed their eyes tight, then began to snore melodiously. anyone could tell that it was a pretense. "i was just coming to see if you boys aren't ready to have something to eat. you must be starved," she exclaimed. "we are," they wailed. "well, dinner's all ready. you get into your bath-robes and come right down. no one will mind and i guess you deserve some privileges. someone called up this morning to know if you got home all right, and i guess you did more than bob told me." she looked reproachfully at her nephew and shook her finger. "now, hustle up--i've got huckleberry pie--" they were out of bed before the words were fairly uttered, so she hurried back to her duties and the two boys were close at her heels, donning bath robes as they came. they did take time to have a good cold splash, and glance at the lake, which had risen two feet higher. mr. and mrs. fenton tried to look cheerful and to joke during the meal, but it was not a success, for the menacing water creeping steadily toward them had already seeped into the cellar, and on the road in front of the house the boys could see automobiles, trucks, hay wagons, and even a team of oxen hitched to a great cart, plugging slowly forward. the vehicles were every one of them piled high with household effects and the people of the island whose homes were already below the danger line, were looking for a safe place to settle until champlain should recede within bounds. the meal over, the two boys went to the veranda at the back. there was something terrible about the whole situation, and they wondered dully what could be done about it. just waiting was nerve racking. for a minute they watched the water, which was muddy as it thrashed in the rising wind, and beyond the cove they could see branches, whole trees, rails of fences, boxes, and all sorts of wreckage tossed on the waves. "let's get out of sight of it," bob proposed, so they went to the front of the house, but the view there was no less depressing. an old man trudged through the water driving his cow, and right behind him, seated on a queer old carriage was his wife driving a horse that lifted his hoofs wearily and wheezed with every step. at that moment an automobile drove to the door, and a huge man, with a booming voice, stuck his head out of the window. "can i get something to eat here?" "come right in," mrs. fenton answered. the man climbed out clumsily, and right behind him came a smaller man who had been completely concealed by his companion. "this is a blasted neck of the woods," the big fellow bellowed. "let's sit over here," bob suggested. he didn't think the newcomer added anything attractive to the prevailing discomfort. the fellow talked and cussed the weather, but the small man didn't utter a word. it wasn't until they were eating that he ventured to speak. "i told you, burnam, this was a fool's errand," he declared. the big man brought his fist down on the table so hard that the china jumped. "don't i know you did. well, i'm telling you that they are hiding somewhere around here, understand, and i'm going to find them. you can get on the train and go to blazes if you like, see!" the words and the tone made the boys jump, then jim gripped bob's arm. "shhhhsss." he pointed to the end of the veranda. bob looked and was surprised to see corso standing like a statue close to the step. he looked as if something had struck him paralyzed, but he recovered himself in a second, leaped nimbly to the veranda, stepped with amazing swiftness to the window and cautiously peeped in. it was just one brief glance he got of the room and the tourists, but it seemed to be enough. he jumped lightly as a cat to the ground, crouched, then disappeared around the corner of the house. "what do you know about that," bob exclaimed, then added quickly, "don't tell me to ask you another. let's go up and get our clothes on." x danger!! "i say, jim, that was a queer thing for corso to do!" the two were putting the finishing touches on their toilet. from the dining room came the voice of the man called burnam, who seemed to do considerable talking while he ate, but if his companion spoke again, his words were inaudible. "yes. listen, buddy, i think corso knows that lad down there." "maybe he does," bob agreed, but that hadn't occurred to him. "maybe we can help those two. come on down, and if the bounders show a disposition to pump us, let's give them an earful." "great guns, we don't want to tell him they are here--" "of course not, you nut. we'll see what they lead up to. you follow my lead. come along." they raced down stairs quietly and into the dining room. mrs. fenton had finished serving the travelers and had gone to the cellar where she was rescuing preserves. "good car you have," jim remarked, and burnam glanced at him. "pretty good," he admitted. "know anything about cars?" "enough to run a flivver," jim answered modestly. burnam sized them up as a pair of country hicks and smiled broadly. "interesting neighborhood around here," he ventured. "oh, fair," jim drawled. "not many strangers," burnam went on. "a sprinklin', but nobody wants them," jim volunteered. "exclusive community. what do you do with strangers?" "leave 'em alone. there's a colony further up. summer people, most from cities, come every year." "same ones all the time?" "sure. fellow who owns the land won't let 'em bring outsiders," the boy explained taking a chair. "enjoy your dinner?" "fine. ever have any southern people--" "few," jim admitted. "chap i know and his nephew came around here for the fishing. he liked the place. perhaps you know him." "how long has he been coming?" jim asked. "i understand last fall was the first time, come to think of it." "nobody was here last fall," jim declared positively. "what sort of chap is he, about your size?" "no, very slender fellow, dark skin and eyes, rather good looking." jim looked at bob. "maybe it's those ginks," he said scornfully. "sounds like them," bob admitted. "where they stopping?" burnam asked, eagerly. "they ain't," jim grinned, then added, "they tried this neighborhood for a week, then went on into canada. the station agent said their luggage was shipped to toronto." "you don't say." the big man seemed disappointed and the little one smiled behind his napkin. "chap like that wouldn't stay in so small a place," he remarked. "no, i suppose not. well, can i pay you--" "pay my brother," jim answered, and strolled out of the house. in the soft earth he had no difficulty in trailing corso's foot prints and a few minutes later saw the man and the boy crouched in the garden where they were completely hidden from the road. "hello," he said softly. "i told those fellows that you two went to toronto. know where that is?" "i do," corso answered. "i let them ask me questions, then told them you stayed here a week. they are so disgusted with the place i don't think they'll hang around, but you better keep out of sight. i'm going to escort them off the island, but they don't know that." "much in your debt we are, sir," corso said quietly. "we shall not forget, sir." his eyes turned toward the road. "bad men, sir. very, very bad men." "they don't look any too good," jim admitted. "you stay here until one of us comes and tells you they are gone." jim strode quickly back toward the house and as he crossed the road he saw burnam getting into the limousine. "get a move on, dyke," he growled, and the smaller chap hastily took his place. motioning to his step-brother to keep quiet, jim stepped behind the huge maple, and when the car hacked into the road, he hopped onto the spare tires, caught the strap and threw his legs over, ducking his head so that if the men should either of them glance through the window, he would not be seem. the car raced off carrying the stow-a-way. "i told you those lads were in this part of the country," burnam said shrilly when they had gone some distance from stumble inn. "i know just how to handle natives, and i got exactly the information we want." "yes, but how the blazes do you expect to pick up the trail in canada?" dyke demanded in a lower tone. "it'll be easier than in the united states," the big fellow replied, and after that he seemed to concentrate his whole attention on driving, for the road was rough from the rains and the boy in the back was soon splashed thickly with mud. presently they came to the bridge which connected north hero with isle la motte. jim could see that the water had risen until it was splashing through the planking, and dozens of men were working hard to keep it from being washed away. they were bringing the biggest rocks they could haul and were distributing them in piles from one end to the other. young austin hoped anxiously that none of the workmen would call burnam's attention to the extra passenger he was carrying, but they passed over quickly, and if anyone noticed the boy, nothing was done about it. they probably thought him a hiker tired of walking and unable to get a lift on his way. the car sped on to the station, but it was deserted, and jim was mighty thankful that no agent was there to answer inquiries regarding the travelers who were supposed to have gone on to toronto. half a mile ahead the machine had to slow up for a sharp curve, so feeling confident that the pair were really headed for canada, the boy dropped off and started to trudge home. a good-natured farmer gave him a lift, and at last he saw bob anxiously scanning the road. "gosh all hemlock, i was going into the air to look for you. say, come on, quick." he led the way to the water's edge, and far across the thrashing lake jim saw a tiny boat, with an outboard motor on the stern, chugging valiantly against the waves and making for fisher's island. "who is it?" jim demanded. "corso and the boy. i saw them a few minutes after they left the shore. they have a load of stuff aboard as if they intend to hide over there," bob explained. "gee, i wonder if it's safe!" jim said anxiously. "i asked uncle norman and he said the greater part of the land is under water now, but there are high spots that may serve them. let's keep an eye on the place, jim. i think that pair is all right, and gosh, i'd hate like fury to have them carried away in this. just look at it." jim didn't need to look any more than he had for as far as he could see, the wreckage, large and small, was being tossed and dashed to splinters. "so should i. we'll keep watch, then if it looks bad we'll go after them in her highness. i say, did you happen to notice the number of that limousine? i, like a dub, forgot to look at it." "i wrote it down," bob answered proudly, and he produced the figures. "good work. i'm going to call up ruhel and tell him to be on the look-out for that pair. they're no good and the mounties will keep them under observation." he hurried into the house, called long distance, and in five minutes was telling the story to the chief, who listened with interest. "thanks no end, old man. i take it you'd like us to let them roam around here for a while and give your friends a chance." "that's the idea." "we'll keep them hunting. it will do them good. oh, by the way, i say, what time did you lads breeze in to your house this morning--" "don't ask personal questions," jim retorted. "i don't have to, i know. mason came in this afternoon and told the story. you knights had some night. i hope they pin something on you--" "probably they will. we ought to have a lemon. well, thanks for listening." "same to you." the connection was cut off, and jim joined his step-brother on the veranda. "listen, buddy, that watch dog uncle norman bought, died this morning, and now the other one is sick. what do you know about that?" "rotten. wonder if there was anything the matter with them when they arrived, or if some one over there didn't want watch dogs?" "hezzy?" "that's the lad i'm going to keep an eye on. gosh." he jumped to his feet and started to walk toward the garden. "for a quiet little place, we surely have found no end of excitement since we landed." "it hasn't been exactly dull," bob admitted. they went on in silence and at last they reached the edge of the alfalfa meadow. the stones the strange boy had been working with a few days before were neatly arranged in a low wall, and the land above was terraced as if by someone skilled in the art. the whole section which the fenton's had called the bog had been plowed, smoothed on a slight incline toward the lake, which left the garden side lower than that land, and this also was built up with a cleverly set curb of stones. there were three small outlets which acted as drains, and in spite of the heavy rains the land was comparatively dry. "well, anyway, your uncle has got this work to be thankful for. it sure looks like a grand piece of land. perhaps he can plant it with something that he can harvest this season. must be odd to be in a place where the summers are as short as they are here. i'd like to see it in the fall. it must be quite a sight." "i'd like to see it in the winter. mom says the lake freezes over, and the people who live near cut ice, and they can cross to new york, or any place they want to go. they drive, have races and skate," bob volunteered. "we can't stay to see all that," jim said regretfully. "the parents wouldn't stand for it." "no, i know it." "supper," mr. fenton called, and the boys made their way back to the house. they were very thoughtful as they took their places, and the food was eaten in silence. "any more turkey's stolen, uncle norman?" "some were taken last night," the man answered. just then the telephone rang and aunt belle answered. "the norman's are going to stay here all night," she said quietly. "their house is flooded above the kitchen." that evening stumble inn was filled to the brim with neighbors. belated supper was served to refugees who straggled in, and the two boys turned to and helped. they carried down cots, made beds, washed dishes, turned horses into the pasture, and drove cattle into the meadow. it was late at night when they were repairing a place in the fence to be sure that the nervous stock did not break through and get away. when the job was finished, they made their way back to the house, and all along the road they could see tents pitched, or families gathered about their cars or wagons prepared to sleep out of doors. the protection they had was frail and if another storm should come up suddenly half their worldly goods would be swept into champlain. in spite of their dilemma the vermonters were facing their troubles quietly and without a whimper. although there were as many as fifty people within earshot, hardly a sound could be heard. then a child, whose sleeping quarters was under the big maple, cried in fright. the mother tried to hush it, but the little fellow's terror did not diminish. without an instant's hesitation, bob leaned over the wagon. "don't be afraid, little fellow. you come on in and sleep--" "there isn't any room in your aunt's house, bob," the woman answered. "she would have taken us if she could." "come along anyway," bob insisted. he picked the boy up in his arms, while jim offered to help the woman. "i'll be all right here," she answered, "if you can find a place for the children." a little girl raised her head. "come on, old man," bob urged. the boy came to him willingly, and the girl reached her arms out to jim. together the two went to the house. the living-room door was wide open, and there were beds spread out on the chairs as well as the floor. "i put some more beds in your room, boys," aunt belle said softly. "anyone in our cots?" bob asked. "no," she answered. "we'll put the babies on them, aunt belle. you don't mind, do you?" "of course not, bob, but where will you sleep?" "oh, in one of the hammocks--" "you can't, my dear, they are all full." "we'll find a place. aunt belle, maybe you'd better come along. we don't know much about little fellows." they started to climb the stairs and his aunt followed. it did not take long for the little codgers to be tucked in comfortably, and in a moment they were both asleep. it seemed to the boys as if the very air was charged with impending danger as they went down stairs again. some of the vermont men and women were sitting around on newspapers on the lawn. they spoke softly, partly because of their friends trying to rest, and partly because they were making a brave effort to face the disaster courageously. "heard that no more trains can get through," one man remarked. "ed allen's prize sheep ran into the lake and were carried away," said another. "something frightened them." "the lower end of canada is in a bad way. the border men asked for all the milk they could get, even if it's sour." "expect we better do some sort of organizing and see what we have," another proposed. "let's talk it over with fenton." the boys moved on and sat down against the shed. "say jim, know what this makes me think of, these people i mean?" "makes me think of so much, i'm getting brain-storm," jim answered, but his tone was sober. "the history we read--these vermonters. those allen boys. did you know the two towns, north hero and south hero are given those names because of the brothers, and a lot of their original tract of land is still in the families' possession?" "i heard your mother say so. they were a great gang." "sure were. well, i was thinking how these people, some of them members of those old families, still stand shoulder to shoulder. of course most folks are pretty decent when neighbors are in trouble, but here they are also quiet and sure of each other. no wonder they are considered a fine lot. a couple of hundred years ago just a handful of them bucked against the hardships and won out. now, uncle norman and aunt belle are facing ruin maybe, but they are right with their neighbors, ready to share everything they have as long as they have it--you see what i mean--it's a great spirit, i think." "so do i. i say, let's see if we can find a couple of blankets and sleep out here," jim proposed. "suits me," bob agreed. they had no trouble finding bedding and soon they were ready to turn in. before they did, they stood staring off across the black water of lake champlain. "i say, isn't that a light over there on fisher's?" "was just watching it. perhaps it's corso's fire. gosh, that means they're all right and i'm glad of that." they watched the tiny streak of red that burned cheerily in the darkness, but finally they stretched out and were soon asleep. xi the cry for help neither of the boys slept soundly that night. their dreams were troubled by a conglomeration of their experiences since their arrival at north hero, the weird boom of the waves as champlain rose steadily, and a confusion of people going by in search of places of safety. several times men stopped to inquire for lodgings or routes, and it seemed as if a dozen dogs howled gloomily. but above it all, toward morning, there was one sound that came to their subconscious minds and they stirred fitfully as if trying to shake off a nightmare. then suddenly they awoke and sat up. it was still dark, that pitch darkness that is so thick just before the first streaks of dawn brush the sky. "i say, buddy, did you hear anyone call?" jim whispered. "i was just going to ask you the same question," bob answered. "i thought i heard a cry for help." they sat listening tensely, straining their ears to distinguish the call that had broken into their sleep, but could make out nothing more than the sighing of the wind through the bowing trees and the noises they had been hearing before. jim started to slip into his shoes and bob followed his example. "let's get some clothes on, i can't sleep any more, can you?" "no. gosh, jim, this is spooky." they slipped their trousers and sweaters on over their pajamas, without stopping to don shirts. in two minutes they were dressed and made their way carefully to the rim of the water. "we'd better have a flashlight or we'll be stepping into it." "i've got the little one in my pocket." jim took it out and pressed the button. its faint tray cast a round glow, not very bright, but sufficient to show them where to step. austin led the way while bob followed close at his heels and finally they stopped on the edge of a cliff and stood listening tensely. for what seemed like an hour, although it was less than a minute, the world was oddly hushed, as if it too were listening, then, clear and unmistakable from north of them, somewhere on the lake, came a terrified cry and a shout for help. "let's get her highness. somebody's out there," bob whispered, and as fast as they could they ran to the carriage shed, where the plane was bumping the top of her wings on the high roof of the ceiling. in order to get inside the boys climbed through the window on the opposite end, and even then had to wade ankle deep in water. they lost no time in getting ready, just enough to be sure that all was well and there was plenty of gas in the tanks. "all o. k.," jim announced taking the pilot's seat. "right with you. i say, old man, we never can hear anything with the engine going, and we can't see much through this pitch." "i know it, and we don't dare stay on the water or we are likely to get a tree in the works, but we've got to take a chance. that voice sounded as if it's a little north, didn't you think so?" "yes, and sort of far away--muffled." they floated out into the cove, all lights on, and jim gasped as he saw that the wind had changed during the night and the water on that side was dangerously full of wreckage. he set his lips grimly, opened the throttle, raced out over great rollers that teetered them even more than the day they returned from burlington in the storm. her highness lost no time in lifting herself above the danger and soared up two hundred feet as her nose was brought about and her course was set north by north west. anxiously bob leaned over as far as his safety-strap would permit and scanned the blackness beneath them hoping to catch sight of something which would account for what they were seeking. jim sent the plane in wide circles in order to give bob a chance to see as far as possible, and although their lights helped some, they seemed to make the rest of the night even darker. for ten minutes they rode in a fruitless search, each time coming around a little further north. "jim, things i can make out are being carried fast toward the south. perhaps we're too far up," bob said through the tube, and jim nodded. he changed the procedure, while the younger boy watched. five minutes more they circled, then jim decided to climb. he tipped her highness' nose at a sharp angle and zoomed two thousand feet just as fast as she could scramble through the air, then he shut off the motor and let her glide. the lake beneath them seemed a regular bedlam of sound, and as they drifted forward at as gradual a descent as possible, they finally picked up a frantic call. "it's over there," jim exclaimed and his buddy agreed. the plane was so low now that they dared glide no longer, so jim set the engine going full blast as they made for the place. "there's a light." bob clutched his arm and pointed. whoever had cried out evidently had some dry matches or a cigarette lighter and was trying to help them locate him. in a moment they were riding in close circles, and then they made out what looked like the roof of a portable summer house. they couldn't tell what was on top of it, but by that time the morning light began to break slowly. "what the heck can we do?" "tie the lariats together," jim directed. that was but the work of a moment, then bob put a weight on one end of it and threw it over. "if he can grab it, we can give him a tow." jim nodded, so bob leaned over again. "come a little lower." her highness obeyed, and with the help of the speaking tube, they at last managed to get the plane in proper position, and almost instantly there was a tug as the rope was caught. it was evident that since they had come to him the stranded man had been using his head, for he managed to keep from being dragged off the roof, and even made the end of the lariat fast to a rod that stuck out near the metal chimney. "she's coming," bob shouted--"go easy or she'll be banged to bits." sturdily her highness taxied forward just as low as she could. bob kept his eyes on the house they were towing, and several times he caught his breath sharply as a particularly heavy plank, a broken tree, or a drowned animal came thumping into it. as it got lighter, the boy was amazed to see that the roof held more than just the man, who had flung himself on his face, his body sprawled out flat as he kept a woman and a tiny baby from being jarred off. "oh, great guns," bob whistled. "throw off the line," jim directed. they were in the cove now, and already mr. fenton and several men were on the shore, while two strong young fellows were in the row boats, prepared to shove out and help. the waves battered them all angrily, but her highness had to soar up out of the way, and after a few minutes in the air where she waggled her wings gaily over her victory, she was brought down again, and the flying buddies hurried to learn about the man and his family. "are they all right, aunt belle?" bob called as they went into the kitchen. "yes. here, you hold the little fellow a minute, while i stir this." she promptly dumped the baby into her nephew's arms, and jim grinned at his brother's discomfort. "will it break, mrs. fenton?" "break--" she looked at bob and laughed, "no, certainly not, if it can come alive through such a night. they were driven to the roof hours ago because the floors of those cottages are fastened to the ground and can't get away--" "i don't know how i can ever thank you fellows--" said the rescued man as he came into the kitchen. "aw, please don't try. we thought we heard you call, so we went to see what it was all about," jim said quickly, but he had to take the hand that was extended to him. "if i had been alone i wouldn't have howled, but with my wife and baby i had to do anything i could. we were asleep, and it seemed as if an earth-quake gave us a broadside and we were full of water. we just managed to get some blankets to keep the baby warm, and climb through the window. we were on the veranda roof first, but that wasn't very secure, so we got on the main part. it was good we moved, for the other sections were battered off--" "my land sakes alive--how awful. here now, you take this in to your wife and tell her to drink every bit of it like a good girl, and just as soon as i get some more dry things on the baby, she can have him back. he is a cunning little fellow--" bob was no end relieved that his services as a nurse were no longer required. "buster," he chuckled as he handed the baby to his aunt. "my land sakes alive. how did you boys happen to get that man and his folks? i never saw the like--never. i thought you were asleep by the barn, and then, all of a sudden, some one said you were out down the lake and you were coming in slow like. fent got the glasses and saw those folks--my land sakes alive, i never saw the like of it. how did you happen to be out there?" "we couldn't sleep, and we thought we heard someone call, so we went out. reckon we better get dressed, we haven't got much on," he added, because several people were trooping into the kitchen and he didn't want to be the center of an admiration meeting. "come down as soon as you're ready and have breakfast. you must be most starved both of you." there is nothing like an early morning rescue party to sharpen the appetite, so the boys did not take long to get ready. jim went down first and just as he came into the living room, the telephone, which was a party line, gave a long persistent ring. "that's forever ringing," mrs. fenton called to him. "will you answer it? i can't put down the baby for a minute." "glad to." jim took down the receiver and heard the operator. "please do not try to use your telephone until further notice, unless the call is _very_ important. the lines are congested. the selectmen have given orders that no one is to try to cross the bridges--either at the north or south end of north hero island. please tell people on the road they cannot go any further." the girl repeated the same thing three times to be sure that everybody got it, then there came a click as she closed the connection. austin gave the message to mrs. fenton, who sighed heavily. "my land sakes alive--there, there, you are almost ready, little fellow. this is a nice baby! now you can go to your mother." she hustled the infant to his parents and then hustled back to serve her hungry household. during the meal two serious-faced men came to the house. "we heard that your nephews dragged in a family that might have been drowned, fent," one of them started. "yes they did," mr. fenton admitted and introduced the boys to the men, who shook hands gravely. "i've heard that there are some families stranded on the islands, and it may be that some of the summer colonies have suffered just as that family you brought in. we were wondering if you will help us get any others, if there are any. we have several good strong power boats, but we would waste a great deal of time trying to locate people and might not find them all." "if you will fly around and watch for signal fires or flags, then we could send the boats directly and take them off," the other added. "of course we'll be mighty glad to help," bob declared promptly. "thank you. another thing, there may be some who haven't had much to eat for a couple of days, not being able to use their boats. could you drop food to them?" "sure thing," jim replied. "we'll take some weights along because we don't usually carry anything like that. we just happened to have one this morning or we might not have been able to give that fellow a tow." "thank you. we'll arrange to have boats and rafts at four points of the island. if you find anyone, give the word to the nearest party. i'll show you about where they are." he took a map from his pocket and pointed to four places that would be used for stations. "you can come down on the water to speak to the men we'll have there?" "yes, we'll manage." "that will be good. we appreciate your help." then he turned to mrs. fenton. "my wife and some of the neighbors in the village are packing boxes of food, sandwiches, coffee and milk. we'll send a truck--it ought to be here in a quarter of an hour--and the boys can take it with them and use their own judgment about dropping it." "i can fix them some--" "judging by the number of people you have taken in i think that you are doing your share, mrs. fenton. we won't ask you to do any more," the man replied. "now, i'll telephone to the boatmen--" "they just told us not to use the phone," jim explained. "they will give me a connection," the man smiled. in a minute he was giving information, directions and instructions, and finally the rescue work was well organized. by the time the boys were ready to take off, the truck appeared with boxes of food, and the chauffeur helped them store it in the plane. "we're lucky to have you fellows here," the man said, when finally the task was accomplished. "we're in luck to be here," bob grinned. "my mother always said that i'd like this place, and i do." "come along." jim waved to the men, opened the throttle and her highness tore across the cove, rose and started on her errand of mercy. she seemed to appreciate the importance of the work before her, and never did an airplane behave more beautifully. they went circling north on the lake and were about to turn when bob shouted through the tube. "there's a raft load, look at it!" jim glanced in the direction his step-brother pointed and saw the crude raft being whirled like a top and it was a marvel that the thing held together. the boys saw two boys, young fellows, some household effects, and a little girl. austin glanced at the map, picked out the nearest station, and they raced to it, coming down where the water happened to be fairly smooth. "there's a raft out there," bob shouted. instantly the engine of the power boat gave a bellow almost as furious as the plane's, and off the party scooted, cutting through the waves and sending a rolling sheet of foam on either side of them. her highness raced back to be sure the rescuers did not miss their goal, and in a few minutes the first job was being done well. "not a bad stunt," bob grinned and then the flying buddies started to work again. they discovered families huddled on tiny bits of land that had been cut off by the water, others on great rocks and a number on floating buildings that threatened to fall to pieces any minute. each time they led the way for the power-boats and had the satisfaction of knowing that all were saved. about noon the four power-boats were out, besides several smaller motor-boats and the boys spied two more families stranded helplessly, so they decided to drop food. "i'll tell them the men will come for them," bob announced. he proceeded to write the message in the box and dropped it over. in that particular group they counted ten people, so they dropped more boxes. then on they circled. the men of the party waved their thanks and an hour later, her highness returned, escorting the boats. the work went on for hours until finally one of the men at a station shouted, "mrs. fenton says that you fellows must come and eat." "we'll stay a while longer--" "no, you mustn't. you show us this bunch, then go home and tank up. it's the selectmen's orders and you have to obey." "all right," jim agreed, then he looked at the dial. it was half past one and he could hardly believe his eyes. so the orders were obeyed, and her highness too had to be tanked up for her gas supply was dangerously low. in the afternoon the boys went up again, and although they circled miles they discovered only two more people who needed rescuing, then bob, who was piloting, had an idea. "i say, buddy, i'm going to hop down on fisher's island and find corso." "we saw them earlier and they were all right," answered jim. "i know, but they might not be by morning. let's just make sure." "suits me," jim acquiesced. her highness was brought about and was soon circling over fisher's island, which was more than half submerged, but it did not look as if anyone on it would be in any immediate danger. soon bob picked out a landing spot on an open space where the ground was high and fairly smooth. presently the plane was on the ground, and the boys began to look about. it did not take them long to locate the foreign man, who came to meet them. "burnam left?" he questioned anxiously. "he surely did. went on to canada, and he can't get back because both bridges are closed until the flood goes down," jim explained. "it is good that he is gone, but we cannot get away," corso said, and he scowled thoughtfully. "it may not be many days before he discovers that you tricked him, then he will come back. he is very determined." "i guess it must be pretty bad with you if you feel that way," bob put in quickly. he couldn't help wondering why the man was afraid. "it is much bad, sirs." "tell you what, we'll take you across to new york. will that help?" jim offered cordially. "it would be much help. come." he led the way through a strip of woods and around a boulder, where the man stopped, gave a low whistle, waited for a response, then they went on and in a minute they came to a well sheltered spot where the trees grew high and thick and the cliff formed a semi-circle protection with an overhanging top. "whew," whistled bob in astonishment. back from the opening stood the mysterious boy, straight as a die, but instead of overalls and brown shirt, he wore a long white garment of some very fine material, and over that was a richly embroidered coat, brilliant with peacock-feather trimming. on his head was a deep fringe arrangement and at his feet a strong box. the lid was open and its contents made the brothers think of some arabian night treasure. "you signaled, my uncle!" he spoke in perfect english, and the man answered, briefly in their own tongue, whatever that was. "it is well," the boy nodded. then he turned toward jim and about his lips was a faint smile. "it was considered best that i do not permit it to be known that i understand your language." "holy hoofs, and we were being little helpfuls trying to teach you," jim exploded. "you have been most generous to us, also the fentons." "well, we're glad to have been," bob replied a bit weakly. "my uncle knows men and i too recognize those who are trustworthy, even though i am only twelve years old--" "only twelve. why, you are as tall as i am." "today i am twelve. because of your great kindness i shall impart to you a little about the reason i am here, if you are interested--" "i say, we've been busting to know ever since we first saw you, but you needn't tell us a thing unless you want to," jim assured him. "you need bust no longer." across the boy's face a smile flashed. "let us be seated. we shall be free from interruption." he spoke as if he were some great personage giving an audience, but there was something about his whole bearing that made the step-brothers have perfect faith in him. they seated themselves on the ground close to him, while his uncle stood on guard. "maybe you better close this," bob suggested. "we didn't see anyone else on the island, but you never can tell. is that what burnam's after?" "burnam is after much more than this," replied the boy, and he dropped the lid, shutting the contents from sight. "i was born in a far land. its name i shall keep. five hundred years ago my people were great rulers of a happy nation. it was ruthlessly invaded, conquered, and great works wantonly destroyed. a few of my fathers escaped destruction, they tried to get back their land but their efforts were fruitless. later, they united secretly and hid their vast treasure which the conqueror could never find. they kept together generation after generation, although few outsiders are aware that any of the pure blood are alive." the boy paused, but his audience made no comment. "in my conquered land there is a beautiful statue to one of my blood who fought successfully and helped free the nation from the devastator's yoke." a gleam of pride shone in the boy's eyes. "did they get it back?" bob whispered. "no, but they got rid of the--the yoke. in the generations the number of men of my race has grown. it is now like a vast army, secretly governed by wise men. many are scattered in different countries, learning the best of the white men's way of living, keeping the best of their own knowledge of life. there are still parts of my country that are unsettled, and one day we shall unite there. we shall be versed in the greatest sciences, and never again can we be conquered or put to rout by ignorance or brute force--we shall be the conquerors, and we shall rid ourselves of the waste races as your uncle rids the garden of rank worthless weeds that would choke and smother the good about them." there was no malice in the boy's tone, no bravado in his manner, he spoke impersonally and without bitterness. his eyes shone with a fine intelligence, he made his statements quietly, and once his eyes wandered to the horizon as if they beheld that future. "accurate records are being kept by every generation and brought together. i have been taught the ancient arts of my fathers, i have worked with the soil as my fathers did, and now that i am twelve years old, i am ready to study the sciences, the languages, higher mathematics--the classics." he broke off a moment, then went on. "i may not live to see the establishment of my race, it may not come for hundreds of years, but it will come when we are fully prepared to take the reins and hold them firmly." his eyes rested first on bob, then jim. "whether it is years hence, or centuries, because of what you have done for one of our princes, the men of your tribe, james austin, and of yours, bob caldwell, will be spared, even though they be inferior, they will be given a chance. i have spoken, and my uncle has written it into the records." "gosh," bob gasped. "if they aren't any good, don't bother with them." his face flushed suddenly, he didn't know why, but he felt that weeds of all kinds should be destroyed. "now, before you take us to new york, i will give you each a token. give it to your son, and your son's son, and on, for one day it will find its way back to my land." he opened the box, drew out two large green stones. they were oblong in shape, some marks had been worked into them, and into a groove in one side was a tiny many-colored tube of exquisite enameling. the boy pressed an invisible spring and the tube opened revealing a slip of parchment covered closely with fine writing. "i say--" jim started to protest, but the boy paid no attention to him. "keep these always, they are fine emeralds. here are smaller pieces." he picked up two rings. "wear these and wherever you are seen by any of my people you will be helped and protected." he handed the jewels to his amazed companions, then went on, "mr. fenton has been losing his turkeys. watch the man who is taking care of them, watch him closely." "thundering rattlers, is he the thief?" "he is a naturally dishonest man. watch him closely and you will learn what happened to the turkeys." "thanks a lot, old man--gee, uncle norman will be no end obliged to you, and gosh, he is already, for that bog you drained is still dry--" "it will remain dry--" the boy assured him. "maybe we'd better be starting," jim suggested, "that is, if you are in a hurry to get to new york." "we shall be glad to hurry." "i say," jim put in, "you know, maybe i'm a nut, but if you people, i mean you and your uncle, would kind of act like ordinary people, not wear anything that looks a bit different, or act as if you are trying to keep out of sight, you wouldn't attract attention--nobody would pay any attention to you at all, except maybe in a little place like north hero, where everybody knows everybody else," he finished hurriedly. the boy sat thoughtfully for a moment, then he smiled and held out his hand. "thank you, it is excellent advice." "when you are by yourselves you can act naturally, i mean as you do anyway, but you look as if you are different, you seem to know more--" "thank you, we will do that, and i hope we meet again, jim austin and bob caldwell." "if you come to texas, look us up. this is where we live." he gave the boy a card, with the address scrawled on the back. "we will get ready," corso interrupted. "well, i say, where does this burnam come in?" jim asked. "he was employed to do some task for one of our people and he suspected that somewhere great wealth must be stored. he saw me once in my father's house. when his work was done, he was paid and dismissed, and taken away, so that he could not find the place again, but he came upon my uncle and myself on your western coast. he believes that i know the secret and tried twice to kidnap me, but he has failed each time, and he will fail again, for it is written in the forecasts that i shall live to a great age and that my enemies shall perish. one day you found a box, it held knotted strings. long before writing, or signs, tribes made their records by that method, i know the language of the knots in the colored strings." "why, i've read of that, learned it in school, old language," bob exclaimed with enthusiasm. xii detectives "i say, what a pair of nuts we are. we don't know that boy's name." jim, who was in the passenger seat beside his step-brother, made the announcement with disgust. bob made a grimace. "we do take first prize. do you think that pair are batty?" "not as batty as some of the rest of us," jim declared emphatically. "that's what i think. i say, let's not do any talking about them. you know, sometimes a little thing starts things and evidently this burnam bird isn't letting any grass grow under his feet." "that's a first-rate idea." they had just left corso and his nephew in one of the small towns in the northern part of new york state, and the couple had taken a train south. now the boys were about ready to return to north hero. "i'm telling the cock-eyed world that we are landing on the turkey farm and somebody's going to talk turkey. it won't be us," bob declared. "atta boy. you know, buddy, we agreed with what that boy said just because we've been suspicious of hezzy all along, but we couldn't convince your uncle nor any of the selectmen on anything as thin as that. we've got to get something on the fellow; something no one will be able to think isn't real proof." "that's right," bob acknowledged. "it's getting kind of late. suppose we drop down there. if hezzy's around we can get the lay of things, and maybe find evidence enough so uncle norman can act on it. we'll have to be mighty careful, or burley will be suspicious." "we might say we need a little gas, that our tanks are empty," jim suggested. "and ask about the dog, if he's getting over that sickness." "yes, that's the idea. i've been wondering--if hezzy is getting away with the turkeys, he wouldn't want a good watch dog around. i've got a kind of hunch we'd better be ready to act with a snap." "suits me. let her go." bob opened the throttle and presently they were in the air, each thinking soberly of what might be before them. as jim recalled the weird experiences of the afternoon and the interview with the foreign boy, it all seemed mighty unreal, but he had to admit that the emerald ring on his middle finger was not a dream, and the jewel in his shirt pocket pressed against his chest was substantial enough. the air was heavy with clouds that hung low, and the boy knew that another storm was brewing. he hoped it wouldn't be a bad one, for the vermonters had already suffered terrific loss because of the late rains and the flooding lake which was sweeping everything before it. looking down he could see the thrashing waves, and the whimsical idea came to him that the lake was determined to go somewhere. "a river has more fun," he grinned to himself. bob's mind was fully occupied with his job of piloting, but it did not take long to cross champlain. it was dark enough now so that homes were being lighted up. the bright window squares began to look like jewels suspended on a rapidly darkening background. in a little while night would be upon them. as they approached isle la motte they were riding five thousand feet up, and suddenly jim noticed two other planes flash through the clouds from the north. he wondered if it was their friend the mail pilot, but the hour was not right, and besides there would not be two. he touched bob on the arm, and pointed. "there's a couple of planes." bob picked them out a moment later, then both boys sat tense and astonished as they noticed that the flying machines were circling above the eastern side of the turkey farm. through breaks in the mist the boys saw that the machines were both large ones, big enough to carry considerable freight or several passengers. why they should be maneuvering through the clouds above isle la motte was puzzling, so bob, as he watched them, guided her highness in a wide circle a thousand feet higher. he was confident their presence would not be observed or heard as long as the other engines were racing. keeping the planes within their range of vision was difficult, and several times they lost sight of them, but succeeded in picking them up again. jim had his eyes fast to the glasses, and suddenly he made out a man standing upright on one of the wings. a second man jumped out of the cock-pit and joined the first, then a third and a fourth got on to the other side of the fuselage. it took an instant for the boy to guess what they were going to do, then he shouted. "they are going to jump!" "over the lake." "the farm. i'm going after them." as soon as the words were out of his mouth he was busy with the safety straps, and as he unbuckled himself he noticed their lariats coiled about the hooks. instinctively, but with no idea for what he might use them, the young ranch boy reached for the long plaited leather ropes. it was natural to have them in his hands, and he hopped out of the cock-pit. "i'll land over there and join you as fast as i can," bob bellowed, and although jim could understand only one or two of the words, he guessed the rest and nodded. he glanced down again and by that time counted five figures dropping through the clouds, but instead of white silk parachutes blossoming out above them, the huge umbrellas were some dark color which was soon lost in the haze. without waiting any longer, jim hopped over, while bob maneuvered to keep out of his way, then the pilot turned about and started for the nearest shore of the lake. while dropping through the air toward the fenton turkey farm, jim's brain was working like a trip hammer. his parachute was white and therefore conspicuous. he did not want to land before the other jumpers nor did he want to be too near them. as soon as he was clear of her highness, he pulled the cord, and calling to his mind a detailed picture of the property, he guided himself far enough to the north so that he would be over the forest. he hoped that the others would be too occupied in their own arrival to do much looking around. the parachute floated him gently, and by spilling air carefully, he managed to keep from, being carried from the course he wanted to follow. sometimes the mist was so thick that he couldn't see a thing in any direction, and then he would be drifting through breaks light enough so that he could keep his bearings. his drop was a thousand feet more than the men he was interested in, and each one of them, he noticed, let himself go more than half of the distance before pulling the cords which opened the "chutes." "wow, there are more," the boy exclaimed and he counted ten tumblers. "what in heck are they up to?" he couldn't answer the question and he didn't try, but concentrated all his attention in observing as much as possible. the first man landed on the smooth space which was familiar to jim, and he saw someone coming to meet the new arrival. the chap looked amazingly like hezzy, and the boy whistled. he saw the fellow free himself from his trappings, then the pair scooted out of sight. by the time jim was nearly ready to land, he had seen the ten drop out of the fog, and each one scooted away as quickly as possible. the boy glanced beneath and saw he was coming to what looked like a grove of young maples or willows, and he smiled with satisfaction. they were not very tall and promised him a safe landing. in a moment more it was made, then he too ducked out of the straps as fast as his fingers could unbuckle them. expertly he folded the "umbrella" and hung it where he could find it again, then made his way stealthily toward the clearing. the fog was rolling from the east but did not seem inclined to settle, and that helped him a lot. at the edge of the woods, his lariat in hand, he stood trying to pick out the spot on which the men had landed. at last he discovered it, and he made another discovery. just a few feet below where he was standing was the edge of a long, narrow fine-wire enclosed pen, such as were made for young turkeys on the other side of the farm. "the mystery begins to clear," he muttered softly. stepping carefully so he would start not the slightest commotion he made the way toward the pen, and then he saw there was a shelter over a large section. the place was built of old boards and seemed to have been made to appear as inconspicuous as possible. listening tensely, jim was sure that he could hear the queer noise young turkeys make, but he didn't dare to scrutinize more closely. he was determined to find where hezzy and the ten men were located. it occurred to him that they might be already making their way to the old farm house, which was certainly big enough to accommodate them all without crowding, but at the same time he had a hunch that an investigation of his immediate surroundings would be more to the point for the present. before going any further jim listened for the planes, but not an engine roared in the skies. he thought that the two had proceeded away from the place as soon as their passengers discharged themselves and the boy wondered if these men landing on isle la motte had anything to do with the gang which allen ruhel and bradshaw had raided. the officers had said that a few got away, but of course they could not know how many. these might be left-overs who had been compelled to keep in hiding until they arranged for a safe get-away from canada. the more he thought, the more suppositions flashed through his brain. suddenly he heard a muffled step, as if made by a man walking cautiously in rubber boots and the boy dodged quickly behind the biggest tree, then dropped to his stomach and made a tiny opening in the underbrush so he could look through. for a breathless minute he waited, then into his range of vision came two men, one wearing an all-over aviation suit. "one of the ten," jim grinned to himself, "and friend hezzy." they were coming toward the pen, and the poultry man's face was black with scowls. "i got them here all right," he muttered, "but how can i get them away? where in blazes is pedro?" "now, keep your shirt on, can't you? you've got the birds, nobody knows a thing about them, and we'll get them away as fast as we can. i don't know where pedro is, i told you, but i think he's in the states here somewhere. one of the boys discovered that the mounties, blast them, are hanging around the ravine. we can't go in it, but we do know that some of the gang went off with the canuck. he's probably helping to keep them under cover. you look after your end here--" "well, i've been looking after my end, but blast it all, how can i keep the gang--ten new ones, under cover? the islands are half of them under water. know what that means?" "sure, they won't be bothering you," the air-man answered promptly. "that's where you ain't got a grain of sense. there's probably a hundred people got their homes washed from under them. everybody will be making room for them--and there isn't a house in isle la motte will take care of so many. the fenton's will offer it--if they haven't already fixed to fill it up," hezzy growled furiously. "whew, that's so, but they ain't likely to bring 'em across tonight, that's sure. they can't use the bridges even to walk on, and no north hero man will bring a boat across until the lake isn't so rough, that's a cinch. you sit tight and keep a watch so you can slip 'em out if anyone shows up. this'll be a grand place to stay tonight, and in the morning some of the planes will be back, then we can make a get-away, part of us, before daylight. what do you want to do over here?" "see that the water pans are filled," hezzy replied sullenly. "all right, go to it, i'll cross to the house and catch up with the other fellows. don't hang around too long--" "i gotta see they're all right for the night or they'll be dying on me," hezzy insisted. the pair separated, and jim watched the strange man strike off through the dusk, while the poultry man made his way further along the turkey pen. "now," whispered jim. he jumped to his feet as nimbly and quietly as a cat, and tip-toed after the air-man. half a dozen plans bobbed into the boy's mind, but none seemed feasible. if he could only capture the pair while they were separated he might accomplish something, but how, was the question. he hesitated a moment as he thought of going back and fastening hezzy in the temporary turkey house, but that didn't seem good because he was sure the man could break his way out. by that time the stranger was almost across the clearing, and then the boy made a decision. swiftly he ran, being careful to make no noise, and as he drew closer the lariats in his hand were being looped into shape. it was only the work of a moment to coil one, then taking a quick jump forward, the boy cast the loop. it swished low along the ground straight to its goal, rose over the fellow's foot as he made a step, then jumping behind a small tree, the boy jerked it taut and the chap went down on his face with a hard thump. "hope he landed on a rock," jim muttered as he hauled it expertly. it was evident that the fellow had knocked the wind out of himself in his fall, for he did not struggle, and in a second jim was standing over him, trussing him tightly like a chicken. "he--grr--" austin's handkerchief was stuffed into his mouth just in time to prevent further explosives. "grr, yourself," jim grinned pleasantly. at last assured that the fellow was helpless, the boy rolled him to a tree, and fastened him to that so he could not get away. "now, ta-ta," he said softly, and taking a last glance at the knots, he hurried back toward the pen where he hoped to capture the unsuspecting hezzy. he wished he had another rope, but he hadn't, so he picked up a good stout stick and a couple of rocks. thus armed, he ran at top speed, then he stopped suddenly and gasped. he saw hezzy was not alone. there was another chap with him, and the other chap was putting up a rattling good fight, although burley was bound to be the victor. down the pair went and jim recognized that pair of arms and legs. it was bob. in a moment he would be out. "howling pole cats," jim yelled. hezzy glanced over his shoulder toward the new attacker, but the stick came down on his head with a sickening thud and he stretched out beside his would be victim. "little jimmy, my brother. let me kiss you--" "i'll knock your block off. how did you happen to get into the scrap?" "was coming valiantly to save you from destruction when i stumbled on this pen." the boy got to his feet, then sat down on his enemy. "started to do a bit of rubbering when our esteemed friend arrived. he was very rude, in fact be promised to send me to hell, i believe he called the place." "thoughtful of him. well, i've got the big boss, i think, tied up back there with our ropes. better let me have your belt so we can arrange hezzy as safely." belts and neckties were used to secure the man's hands and feet, and into his mouth was stuffed a gag to keep him from getting boisterous, then the step-brothers took a minute to discuss the situation. "tell you what," jim proposed finally. "you go back for her highness, and land her down here. i'll strike a match so that you can drop close, then we'll give these boys a ride to north hero. the selectmen can lodge them in jail away from all danger, and somebody else can come later and collect the gang in the house." "guess that's the brightest plan, buddy," bob agreed, and he set off to get the plane. half an hour later they dropped down in the cove, and as one of the selectmen was at the fenton's, he heard the charge, and arrested the pair without further ceremony. "my land sakes alive, bob, why, it just don't seem possible hezzy--" "well, we have the goods on him, aunt belle, and let me tell you something. there are hundreds of turkeys in that pen over there, guess your loss won't be so bad after all. gosh, i'm glad--" "well--er--gosh, bob, i am too--now then, there goes the telephone. you answer it, i'm so excited i can't talk straight." bob went, and after listening a moment he repeated. "yes, now, is this right? you have a telegram from texas, that five thousand dollars has been deposited in the burlington bank for mrs. fenton because my mother, that is, mrs. austin, read of the flood and thought her sister could use it. right?" a pause, "thanks!" the boys hung up and turned to his aunt who was leaning helplessly against the door frame. "get that, aunt belle!" she gave a little choking sob, and big tears ran down her cheeks. "yes, bob--i did--that's just like your mother--she wouldn't even take the--time to find out if we needed it--b-but just sent it so we could have it--" "of course," jim laughed. "that's just like her, i know. she's bully." "my land--why my land, you haven't had a bite of supper, you must be starved." then she flew about to get it ready and bob turned on the radio. "weather report. fair and warm, tonight and tomorrow," he announced. "good news," mr. fenton remarked as he came into the room. "we've got so much good news," his wife beamed. but before the boys got a chance to eat the meal, the selectmen came, three of them, and asked to be taken across to isle la motte. they wanted to round up the men in the old house before they could get away, so jim took them over. there wasn't even a fight, and it didn't take the officers long to learn that the ten were men who had come across the border without authority, and they were hand-cuffed, placed under guard, and held for deportation. "we're much obliged, young man," one of the selectmen smiled at the boy and held out his hand. "you've done a lot for all of us and we hope that you will stay with us as long as you can." "oh, thank you. if you don't need me any more, i'll fly back or bob won't leave me a smell of supper." "fly away. i think by morning the bridges will be safe so we can use them, but if they are not, and you'll pay us a visit here, i'll be further in your debt--yours and the plane's." it didn't take long for jim to get home, and he found that there was still plenty to eat. when he had "tanked up" comfortably, he glanced at the green emerald ring on his finger, then at his brother. "say, buddy, suppose we'll ever be lucky enough to meet that kid again?" "i have a big hunch we will," bob declared with satisfaction. serial publications of the smithsonian institution the emphasis upon publications as a means of diffusing knowledge was expressed by the first secretary of the smithsonian institution. in his formal plan for the institution, joseph henry articulated a program that included the following statement: "it is proposed to publish a series of reports, giving an account of the new discoveries in science, and of the changes made from year to year in all branches of knowledge not strictly professional." this keynote of basic research has been adhered to over the years in the issuance of thousands of titles in serial publications under the smithsonian imprint, commencing with _smithsonian contributions to knowledge_ in and continuing with the following active series: _smithsonian annals of flight_ _smithsonian contributions to anthropology_ _smithsonian contributions to astrophysics_ _smithsonian contributions to botany_ _smithsonian contributions to the earth sciences_ _smithsonian contributions to paleobiology_ _smithsonian contributions to zoology_ _smithsonian studies in history and technology_ in these series, the institution publishes original articles and monographs dealing with the research and collections of its several museums and offices and of professional colleagues at other institutions of learning. these papers report newly acquired facts, synoptic interpretations of data, or original theory in specialized fields. each publication is distributed by mailing lists to libraries, laboratories, institutes, and interested specialists throughout the world. individual copies may be obtained from the smithsonian institution press as long as stocks are available. s. dillon ripley _secretary_ smithsonian institution the wright brothers' engines and their design [illustration: kitty hawk flyer with original wright engine poised on launching rail at kill devil hill, near kitty hawk, north carolina, november , the month before the wrights achieved man's first powered and controlled flight in a heavier-than-air craft.] [illustration: reproduction of the first engine, built by pratt & whitney, as displayed in wright brothers national memorial at kitty hawk. engine is mounted in a reproduction of the wrights' flyer built by the national capital section of the institute of the aeronautical sciences (now the american institute of aeronautics and astronautics). engine and plane were donated in to the national park service cape hatteras national seashore.] smithsonian annals of flight * number smithsonian institution * national air and space museum the wright brothers' engines and their design _leonard s. hobbs_ smithsonian institution press city of washington _smithsonian annals of flight_ numbers - constitute volume one of _smithsonian annals of flight_. subsequent numbers will bear no volume designation, which has been dropped. the following earlier numbers of _smithsonian annals of flight_ are available from the superintendent of documents as indicated below: . the first nonstop coast-to-coast flight and the historic t- airplane, by louis s. casey. . pages, figures, appendix, bibliography. out of print. . the first airplane diesel engine: packard model dr- of , by robert b. meyer. . pages, figures, appendix, bibliography. price ¢. . the liberty engine - , by philip s. dickey. . pages, figures, appendix, bibliography. price ¢. . aircraft propulsion: a review of the evolution of aircraft piston engines, by c. fayette taylor. viii + pages, figures, appendix, bibliography of items. price $ . . for sale by superintendent of documents, government printing office washington, d.c. --price cents foreword in this fifth number of _smithsonian annals of flight_ leonard s. hobbs analyzes the original wright _kitty hawk flyer_ engine from the point of view of an aeronautical engineer whose long experience in the development of aircraft engines gives him unique insight into the problems confronting these remarkable brothers and the ingenious solutions they achieved. his review of these achievements also includes their later vertical -and -cylinder models designed and produced between and . the career of leonard s. (luke) hobbs spans the years that saw the maturing of the aircraft piston engine and then the transition from reciprocating power to the gas turbine engine. in he became a test engineer in the power plant laboratory of the army air service at mccook field in dayton, ohio. there, and later as an engineer with the stromberg motor devices corporation, he specialized in aircraft engine carburetors and developed the basic float-type to the stage of utility where for the first time it provided normal operation during airplane evolutions, including inverted flight. joining pratt & whitney aircraft in as research engineer, hobbs advanced to engineering manager in and in took over complete direction of its engineering. he was named vice president for engineering for all of united aircraft in , and was elected vice chairman of united aircraft in , serving in that capacity until his retirement in . he remained a member of the board of directors until . those years saw the final development of pratt & whitney's extensive line of aircraft piston engines which were utilized by the united states and foreign air forces in large quantities and were prominent in the establishment of worldwide air transportation. in hobbs was awarded the collier trophy for having directed the design and development of the j turbojet, the country's first such engine widely used in both military service and air transportation. he was an early fellow of the institute of aeronautical sciences (later the american institute of aeronautics and astronautics), served for many years on the powerplant committee of the national advisory committee for aeronautics, and was the recipient of the presidential certificate of merit. frank a. taylor, _acting director_ _national air and space museum_ _march _ contents foreword v acknowledgments ix the beginnings the engine of the first flight, the engines with which they mastered the art of flying the four-cylinder vertical demonstration engine and the first production engine the eight-cylinder racing engine the six-cylinder vertical engine minor design details and performance of the wright engines appendix characteristics of the wright flight engines the wright shop engine bibliography index acknowledgments as is probably usual with most notes such as this, however short, before completion the author becomes indebted to so many people that it is not practical to record all the acknowledgments that should be made. this i regret extremely, for i am most appreciative of the assistance of the many who responded to my every request. the mere mention of the wright name automatically opened almost every door and brought forth complete cooperation. i do not believe that in the history of the country there has been another scientist or engineer as admired and revered as they are. i must, however, name a few who gave substantially of their time and effort and without whose help this work would not be as complete as it is. gilmoure n. cole, a. l. rockwell, and the late l. morgan porter were major contributors, the latter having made the calculations of the shaking forces, the volumetric efficiency, and the connecting rod characteristics of the engine. louis p. christman, who was responsible for the smithsonian drawings of this engine and also supervised the reconstruction of the wright airplane, supplied much information, including a great deal of the history of the early engines. opie chenoweth, one of the early students of the subject, was of much assistance; and i am indebted to r. v. kerley for the major part of the data on the wrights' shop engine. also, i must express my great appreciation to the many organizations that cooperated so fully, and to all the people of these organizations and institutions who gave their assistance so freely. these include the following: air force museum, wright-patterson air force base, ohio carillon park museum, dayton, ohio connecticut aeronautical historical association, hebron, connecticut fredrick c. crawford museum, cleveland, ohio historical department, daimler benz a. g., stuttgart-untertürkheim, west germany engineers club, dayton, ohio deutsches museum, munich, west germany educational and musical arts, inc., dayton, ohio henry ford museum, dearborn, michigan franklin institute, philadelphia, pennsylvania howell cheney technical school, manchester, connecticut library of congress, washington, d.c. naval air systems command, u.s. navy, washington, d.c. science museum, london, england victoria and albert museum, london, england in particular, very extensive contributions were made by the smithsonian institution and by the united aircraft corporation through its library, through the pratt & whitney aircraft division's entire engineering department and its marketing and product support departments, and through united aircraft international. the beginnings the general history of the flight engines used by the wright brothers is quite fascinating and fortunately rather well recorded.[ ] the individual interested in obtaining a reasonably complete general story quickly is referred to three of the items listed in the short bibliography on page . the first, _the papers of wilbur and orville wright_, is a primary source edited by the authority on the wright brothers, marvin w. mcfarland of the library of congress; a compact appendix to volume of the _papers_ contains most of the essential facts. this source is supplemented by the paper of baker[ ] and the accompanying comments by chenoweth, presented at the national aeronautics meeting of the society of automotive engineers on april . aside from their excellence as history, these publications are outstanding for the manner in which those responsible demonstrate their competence and complete mastery of the sometimes complex technical part of the wright story. [footnote : an extensive bibliography, essentially as complete at this time as when it was compiled in the early s, is given on pages - of volume of _the papers of wilbur and orville wright_, .] [footnote : max p. baker was a technical adviser to the wright estate and as such had complete access to all of the material it contained.] the consuming interest of the wrights, of course, was in flight as such, and in their thinking the required power unit was of only secondary importance. however, regardless of their feeling about it, the unit was an integral part of their objective and, due to the prevailing circumstances, they very early found themselves in the aircraft engine business despite their inexperience. this business was carried on very successfully, against increasingly severe competition, until orville wright withdrew from commercial activity and dissolved the wright company. the time span covered approximately the twelve years from to , during the first five years of which they designed and built for their own use several engines of three different experimental and demonstration designs. in the latter part of the period, they manufactured and sold engines commercially, and during this time they marketed three models, one of which was basically their last demonstration design. a special racing engine was also built and flown during this period. accurate records are not available but altogether, they produced a total of something probably close to engines of which they themselves took a small number for their various activities, including their school and flying exhibition work which at one time accounted for a very substantial part of their business. a similar lack of information concerning their competition, which expanded rapidly after the wright's demonstrations, makes any comparisons a difficult task. the wrights were meticulous about checking the actual performance of their engines but at that time ratings generally were seldom authenticated and even when different engines were tried in the same airplane the results usually were not measured with any accuracy or recorded with any permanency. there is evidence that the competition became effective enough to compel the complete redesign of their engine so that it was essentially a new model. for their initial experimentation the wrights regarded gravity as not only their most reliable power source but also the one most economical and readily available, hence their concentration on gliding. they had correctly diagnosed the basic problem of flight to be that of control, the matter of the best wing shapes being inherently a simpler one which they would master by experiment, utilizing at first gravity and later a wind tunnel. consequently, the acquisition of a powerplant intended for actual flight was considerably deferred. nevertheless, they were continuously considering the power requirement and its problems. in his september lecture to the western society of engineers, wilbur wright made two statements: "men also know how to build engines and screws of sufficient lightness and power to drive these planes at sustaining speed"; and in conjunction with some figures he quoted of the required power and weight: "such an engine is entirely practicable. indeed, working motors of one-half this weight per horsepower [ pounds per horsepower] have been constructed by several different builders." it is quite obvious that with their general knowledge and the experience they had acquired in designing and building a successful shop engine for their own use, they had no cause to doubt their ability to supply a suitable powerplant when the need arose. after the characteristics of the airframe had been settled, and the engine requirements delineated in rather detailed form, they had reached the point of decision on what they termed the motor problem. only one major element had changed greatly since their previous consideration of the matter; they had arrived at the point where they not only needed a flight engine, they wanted it quickly. nothing has been found that would indicate how much consideration they had given to forms of power for propulsion other than the choice they had apparently made quite early--the internal-combustion, four-stroke-cycle piston engine. undoubtedly, steam was dismissed without being given much, if any, thought. on the face of it, the system was quite impractical for the size and kind of machine they planned; but it had been chosen by maxim for his experiments,[ ] and some thirty-five or forty years later a serious effort to produce an aviation engine utilizing steam was initiated by lockheed. on the other hand internal-combustion two-stroke-cycle piston engines had been built and used successfully in a limited way. and since, at that time, it was probably not recognized that the maximum quantity of heat it is possible to dissipate imposed an inherent limitation on the power output of the internal-combustion engine, the two-stroke-cycle may have appeared to offer a higher output from a given engine size than the four-stroke-cycle could produce. certainly, it would have seemed to promise much less torque variation for the same output, something that was of great importance to the wrights. against this, the poor scavenging efficiency of the two-stroke operation, and most probably its concurrent poor fuel economy, were always evident; and, moreover, at that time the majority of operating engines were four-stroke-cycle. whatever their reasoning, they selected for their first powered flight the exact form of prime mover that continued to power the airplane until the advent of the aircraft gas turbine more than forty years later. [footnote : in the s the wealthy inventor sir hiram stevens maxim conducted an experiment of considerable magnitude with a flying machine that utilized a twin-cylinder compound steam powerplant. it was developed to the flight-test stage.] the indicated solution to their problem of obtaining the engine--and the engine that would seem by all odds most reliable--would have been to have a unit produced to their specifications by one of the best of the experienced engine builders, and to accomplish this, the most effective method would be to use the equivalent of a bid procedure. this they attempted, and sent out a letter of inquiry to a fairly large number of manufacturers. although no copy of the letter is available, it is rather well established that it requested the price of an engine of certain limited specifications which would satisfy their flight requirements, but beyond this there is little in the record. a more thorough examination of the underlying fundamentals, however, discloses many weaknesses in the simple assumptions that made the choice of an experienced builder seem automatic. a maximum requirement limited to only one or two units offered little incentive to a manufacturer already successfully producing in his field, and the disadvantage of the limited quantity was only accentuated by the basic requirement for a technical performance in excess of any standard of the time. certainly there was no promise of any future quantity business or any other substantial reward. orville wright many times stated that they had no desire to produce their own engine, but it is doubtful that they had any real faith in the buying procedure, for they made no attempt to follow up their first inquiries or to expand the original list. whatever the reasoning, their judgment of the situation is obvious; they spent no time awaiting results from the letter but almost immediately started on the task of designing and building the engine themselves. perhaps the generalities were not as governing as the two specific factors whose immediate importance were determining: cost and time. the wrights no doubt realized that a specially designed, relatively high performance engine in very limited hand-built quantities would not only be an expensive purchased article but would also take considerable time to build, even under the most favorable circumstances. so the lack of response to their first approach did not have too much to do with their ultimate decision to undertake this task themselves. the question of the cost of the wrights' powerplants is most intriguing, as is that of their entire accomplishment. no detailed figures of actual engine costs are in the record, and it is somewhat difficult to imagine just how they managed to conduct an operation requiring so much effort and such material resources, given the income available from their fairly small bicycle business. the only evidence bearing on this is a statement that the maximum income from this business averaged $ , a year,[ ] which of course had to cover not only the airplane and engine but all personal and other expenses. yet they always had spare engines and spare parts available; they seemingly had no trouble acquiring needed materials and supplies, both simple and complex; and they apparently never were hindered at any time by lack of cash or credit. the only mention of any concern about money is a statement by wilbur wright in a letter of may when, about to sail for france for the first public demonstrations, he wrote: "this plan would put it to the touch quickly and also help ward off an approaching financial stringency which has worried me very much for several months." it is a remarkable record in the economical use of money, considering all they had done up to that time. the myth that they had been aided by the earnings of their sister katherine as a school teacher was demolished long ago. [footnote : fred c. kelly, _miracle at kitty hawk_, .] the decision to build the engine themselves added one more requirement, and possibly to some extent a restriction, to the design. they undoubtedly desired to machine as much of the engine as possible in their own shop, and the very limited equipment they had would affect the variety of features and constructions that could be utilized, although experienced machine shops with sophisticated equipment were available in dayton and it is obvious that the wrights intended to, and did, utilize these when necessary. the use of their own equipment, of course, guaranteed that the parts they could handle themselves would be more expeditiously produced. they commenced work on the design and construction shortly before christmas in . the subject of drawings of the engine is interesting, not only as history but also because it presents several mysteries. taylor[ ] stated, "we didn't make any drawings. one of us would sketch out the part we were talking about on a piece of scrap paper ..." obviously somewhere in the operation some dimensions were added, for the design in many places required quite accurate machining. orville wright's diary of has the entry, "took old engine apart to get measurements for making new engine." finally, no wright drawings of the original engine have been seen by anyone connected with the history or with the wright estate. in the estate were two drawings (now at the franklin institute), on heavy brown wrapping paper, relating to one of the two very similar later engines built in ; one is of a cylinder and connecting rod, the other is an end view of the engine. thus even if the very ingenious drafting board now in the wright museum at carillon park was available at the time there is no indication that it was used to produce what could properly be called drawings of the first engine. [footnote : charles e. taylor (charley taylor to the many who knew him) was in effect the superintendent of and also the only employee to work in the original small machine shop. a most versatile and efficient mechanic and machine operator, he made many parts for all of the early engines, and in the manner of the experimental machinist, worked mainly from sketches. he also had charge of the bicycle shop and its business in the absence of the wrights.] there are in existence, however, two complete sets of drawings, both of which purport to represent the flight engine. one set was made in england for the science museum in the two years and . the drawings were made on receipt of the engine, which was not disassembled, but in the engine was removed from the airplane, disassembled, the original drawings were corrected and added to, and the whole was made into one very complete and usable set. the other set was prepared in dayton, ohio, for educational and musical arts, inc.,[ ] and was donated to the smithsonian institution. this latter set was started under the direction of orville wright, who died shortly after the work had been commenced. [footnote : this is a charitable agency set up by the late colonel and mrs. e. a. deeds primarily for the purpose of building and supporting the deeds carillon and the carillon park museum in dayton, ohio.] the two sets of drawings, that is, the one of the science museum and that made in dayton for the smithsonian institution, cannot be reconciled in the matter of details. hardly any single dimension is exactly the same and essentially every part differs in some respect. many of the forms of construction differ and even the firing order of the two engines is not the same, so that in effect the drawings show two different engines. [illustration: figure .--first flight engine, , valve side. (photo courtesy science museum, london.)] the primary trouble is, of course, that the exact engine which flew in is no longer in existence, and since no original drawings of it exist, there is considerable doubt about its details. the engine had its crankcase broken in an accident to the airframe (this was caused by a strong wind gust immediately following the last of the first series of flights at kitty hawk), and when it was brought back to dayton it was for some inexplicable reason completely laid aside, even though it presumably contained many usable parts. when the engine was disassembled to obtain measurements for constructing the engines, again apparently no drawings were made. in february orville wright wrote that all the parts of the engine were still in existence except the crankcase; but shortly after this the crankshaft and flywheel were loaned for exhibition purposes and were never recovered. in the engine was reassembled for an exhibition and in it was again reassembled for shipment to england. the only parts of this particular engine whose complete history is definitely known are the crankshaft and flywheel, which were taken from the - flight engine. this latter engine, now in the restored airplane in the carillon park museum in dayton, does not contain a crankshaft, and in its place incorporates a length of round bar stock. [illustration: figure .--first flight engine, , underside and flywheel end. (photo courtesy science museum, london.)] in late work on the educational and musical arts drawings was initiated under the direction of louis p. christman and carried through to completion by him. christman has stated that orville wright was critical of the science museum drawings but just what he thought incorrect is not known. whatever his reasons, he did encourage christman to undertake the major task of duplication. christman worked directly with orville wright for a period of six weeks and had access to all the records and parts the wrights had preserved. the resultant drawings are also very complete and, regardless of the differences between these two primary sets, both give a sufficiently accurate picture of the first engine for all purposes except that of exact reproduction in every detail. there exists a still unsolved puzzle in connection with what seems to be yet another set of drawings of the first engine. in december , in writing to the science museum telling of his decision to have the airplane and engine brought back to the united states, orville wright stated, "i have complete and accurate drawings of the engine. i shall be glad to furnish them if you decide to make a replica."[ ] no trace of these particular drawings can be found in any of the museums, institutions, or other repositories that normally should have acquired them and the executors of orville wright's estate have no record or knowledge of them. the date of his letter is four years before the dayton drawings were commenced; and when christman was working on these with orville wright they had copies of the science museum drawings, with complete knowledge of their origin, yet christman has no knowledge of the drawings referred to in orville's letter to the museum. finally, the evidence is quite conclusive that there were no reproducible or permanent drawings made at the time the first engine was constructed, and, of course, the reconstructed engine itself was sent to england in and not returned to this country until .[ ] [footnote : the science museum expressed a desire to have these but never received them. there is a reference to them in a letter to the museum from the executors of his estate dated february , but is seems rather obvious from the text that by this time the drawings mentioned by orville wright in his letter had become confused with those being prepared by christman for the smithsonian institution. the science museum did have constructed from its own drawings a very fine replica which is completely operable at this time.] [footnote : there is a third set of drawings prepared by the ford motor company also marked as being of the engine and these are rather well distributed in various museums and institutions. what this set is based on has been impossible to determine but it is indicated from the existence of actual engines and parts and the probable date of their preparation (no date is given on the drawings themselves) that they were copied from drawings previously made, and therefore add nothing to them. the orville wright-henry ford friendship originated rather late, considering ford's avid interest in history and mechanical things. this tardiness could possibly have been the result of wright coolness--a coolness caused by a report, at the time the validity of the wright patents was being so strongly contested, that ford had advised some of those opposing the wrights to persevere and to obtain the services of his patent counsel who had been successful in overturning the selden automobile patent. if this barrier ever existed it was surmounted, and ford spent much effort and went to considerable expense to collect the wright home and machine shop for his dearborn museum. the shop equipment apparently had been widely scattered and its retrieval was a major task. it is most likely that the drawings resulted from someone's effort to follow out an order to produce a set of ford drawings of the original engine. a small scale model of the flight engine, constructed under the supervision of charles taylor, is contained in the dearborn museum.] the engine of the first flight, in commencing the design of the first engine, the first important decision arrived at was that of the number and size of the cylinders to be employed and the form in which they would be combined, although it is unlikely that this presented any serious problem. in a similar situation manly, when he was working on the engine for the langley aerodrome,[ ] was somewhat perturbed because he did not have access to the most advanced technical knowledge, since the automobile people who were at that time the leaders in the development of the internal combustion engine, tended for competitive reasons to be rather secretive about their latest advancements and designs. but although the standard textbooks may not have been very helpful to him, there were available such volumes as w. worby beaumont's _motor vehicles and motors_ which contained in considerable detail descriptions and illustrations of the best of the current automobile engines. the situations of manly and the wrights differed, however, in that whereas the wrights' objective was certainly a technical performance considerably above the existing average, manly's goal was that of something so far beyond this average as to have been considered by many impossible. importantly, the wrights had their own experience with their shop engine and a good basic general knowledge of the size of engine that would be necessary to meet their requirements. [footnote : charles l. manly was engaged in the development of the engine for the langley aerodrome. see also footnote to table on page .] engine roughness was of primary concern to them. in the description of the engine they sent to various manufacturers, they had stated: "... and the engine would be free from vibration." even though their requirement for a smooth engine was much more urgent than merely to avoid the effect of roughness on the airplane frame, they were faced, before they made their first powered flight, with the basic problem with which the airplane has had to contend for over three-quarters of its present life span: that is, it was necessary to utilize an explosion engine in a structure which, because of weight limitations, had to be made the lightest and hence frailest that could possibly be devised and yet serve its primary purpose. however great the difficulty may have appeared, in the long view, the fault was certainly a relatively minor one in the overall development of the internal combustion engine--that wonderful invention without which their life work would probably never have been so completely successful while they lived, and which, even aside from its partnership with the airplane, has so profoundly affected the nature of the world in which we live. it seems quite obvious that to the wrights vibration, or roughness, was predominantly if not entirely caused by the explosion forces, and they were either not completely aware of the effects of the other vibratory forces or they chose to neglect them. although crankshaft counterweights had been in use as far back as the middle s, the wrights never incorporated them in any of their engines; and despite the inherent shaking force in the -inline arrangement, they continued to use it for many years. the choice of four cylinders was obviously made in order to get, for smoothness, what in that day was "a lot of small cylinders"; and this was sound judgment. furthermore, although the majority of automobiles at that time had engines with fewer than four cylinders, for those that did the inline form was standard and well proven, and, in fact, daimler was then operating engines of this general design at powers several times the minimum the wrights had determined necessary for their purpose. what fixed the exact cylinder size, that is, the "square" × -in. form, is not recorded, nor is it obvious by supposition. baker says it was for high displacement and low weight, but these qualities are also greatly affected by many other factors. the total displacement of just over cu in. was on the generous side, given the horsepower they had determined was necessary, but here again the wrights were undoubtedly making the conservative allowances afterwards proven habitual, to be justified later by greatly increased power requirements and corresponding outputs. the mean effective pressure (mep), based on their indicated goal of hp, would be a very modest psi at the speed of rpm at which they first tested the engine, and only psi at the reasonably conservative speed of rpm. the × -in. dimension would provide a cylinder large enough so that the engine was not penalized in the matter of weight and yet small enough to essentially guarantee its successful operation, as cylinders of considerably larger bore were being utilized in automobiles. that their original choice was an excellent one is rather well supported by the fact that in all the different models and sizes of engines they eventually designed and built, they never found it necessary to go to cylinders very much larger than this. [illustration: _figure ._--first flight engine, , installed in the kitty hawk airplane, as exhibited in the science museum. (photo courtesy the science museum, london.)] a second basic determination which was made either concurrently or even possibly in advance of that of the general form and size was in the matter of the type of cylinder cooling to adopt. based on current practice that had proven practical, there were three possibilities, all of which were in use in automobiles: air, water, or a combination of the two. it is an interesting commentary that fernand forest's[ ] proposed -cylinder aircraft engine of was to be air-cooled, that santos-dumont utilized an air-cooled clement engine in his dirigible flights of , and that the wrights had chosen air cooling for their shop engine. with the promise of simplicity and elimination of the radiator, water and piping, it would seem, offhand, that this would be the wrights' choice for their airplane; but they were probably governed by the fact that not only was the water-cooled type predominant in automobile practice, but that the units giving the best and highest performance in general service were all water cooled. in their subsequent practice they never departed from this original decision, although wilbur wright's notebook of - contains an undated weight estimate by detailed parts for an -cylinder air-cooled engine. unfortunately, the proposed power output is not recorded, so their conception of the relative weight of the air-cooled form is not disclosed. [footnote : fernand forest, _les bateaux automobiles_, .] one of the most important decisions relating to the powerplant--one which was probably made long before they became committed to the design itself--was a determination of the method of transmission of power to the propeller, or propellers. a lingering impression exists that the utilization of a chain drive for this purpose was a natural inheritance from their bicycle background. no doubt this experience greatly simplified the task of adaptation but a merely cursory examination shows that even if they had never had any connection with bicycles, the chain drive was a logical solution, considering every important element of the problem. the vast majority of automobiles of the time were chain driven, and chains and sprockets capable of handling a wide range of power were completely developed and available. further, at that time they had no accurate knowledge of desirable or limiting propeller and engine speeds. the chain drive offered a very simple and inexpensive method of providing for a completely flexible range of speed ratios. the other two possibilities were both undesirable: the first, a simple direct-driven single propeller connected to the crankshaft, provided essentially no flexibility whatsoever in experimentally varying engine or propeller speed ratios, it added an out-of-balance engine torque force to the problem of airplane control, and, finally, it dictated that the pilot would be in the propeller slipstream or the airflow to it; the second, drive shafts and gearing for dual propellers, would have been very heavy and expensive, and most probably would have required a long-time development, with every experimental change in speed ratios requiring a complete change in gears. again, their original choice was so correct that it lasted them through essentially all their active flying years. the very substantial advantages of the chain drive were not, however, obtained at no cost. torque variations in the engine would tend to cause a whipping action in the chain, so that it was vulnerable to rough running caused by misfiring cylinders and, with the right timing and magnitude of normal regular variations, the action could result in destructive forces in the transmission system. this was the basic reason for the wrights' great fear of "engine vibration," which confined them to the use of small cylinders and made a fairly heavy flywheel necessary on all their engines. when they were requested to install an austro-daimler engine in one of their airplanes, they designed a flexible coupling which was interposed between the engine and the propeller drive and this was considered so successful that it was applied to the flywheel of some engines of their last model, the - , "which had been giving trouble in this regard."[ ] [footnote : grover loening, letter of april , to the smithsonian institution.] although flat, angled, and vertical engines had all been operated successfully, the best and most modern automotive engines of the time were vertical, so their choice of a horizontal position was probably dictated either by considerations of drag or their desire to provide a sizable mounting base for the engine, or both. there is no record of their ever having investigated the matter of the drag of the engine, either alone or in combination with the wing. the merit of a vertical versus a horizontal position of the engine was not analogous to that of the pilot, which they had studied, and where the prone position undoubtedly reduced the resistance. having decided on the general makeup of their engine, the next major decision was that of just what form the principal parts should take, the most important of these being the cylinders and crankcase. even at this fairly early date in the history of the internal combustion engine various successful arrangements and combinations were in existence. individual cylinder construction was by far the most used, quite probably due to its case of manufacture and adaptability to change. since -cylinder engines were just coming into general use (a few production engines of this type had been utilized as early as ), there were few examples of en-bloc or one-piece construction. the original german daimler company undoubtedly was at this time the leader in the development of high-output internal-combustion engines, and in , as an example of what was possible, had placed in service one that possibly approximated hp, which was an mep of psi. (almost without exception, quoted power figures of this period were not demonstrated quantities but were based on a formula, of which the only two factors were displacement and rpm.) the cylinders of this daimler engine were cast iron, the cylinder barrel, head, and water jacket being cast in one piece. the upper part of the barrel and the cylinder head were jacketed, but, surprisingly, the bottom percent of the barrel had no cooling. the cylinders were cast in pairs and bolted to a two-piece aluminum case split at the line of the crankshaft. ignition was make-and-break and the inlet valves were mechanically actuated. displacement was cu in. and the rpm was . although a few examples of integral crankcase and water jacket combinations were in use, the wrights were being somewhat radical when they decided to incorporate all four cylinders in the one-piece construction, particularly since they also proposed to include the entire crankcase and not just one part of it. it was undoubtedly the most important decision that they were required to make on all the various construction details, and probably the one given the most study and investigation. many factors were involved, but fundamentally everything went back to their three basic requirements: suitability, time, and cost. there was no obvious reason why the construction would not work, and it eliminated a very large number of individual parts and the required time for procuring, machining, and joining them. probably one very strong argument was the advanced state of the casting art, one of the oldest of the mechanical arts in existence and one the wrights used in many places, even though other processes were available. what no doubt weighed heavily was that dayton had some first-class foundries. the casting, though intricate and not machinable in their own shop, could be easily handled in one that was well outfitted. the pattern was fairly complex but apparently not enough to delay the project or cause excessive cost. [illustration: _figure ._--first flight engine, , left side and rear views, with dimensions. (drawing courtesy howell cheney technical school.) left side view.] [illustration: rear view] the selection of aluminum for the material was an integral part of the basic design decision. despite the excellence and accuracy of the castings that could be obtained, there was nevertheless a minimum dimension beyond which wall thickness could not be reduced; and the use of either one of the two other proven materials, cast iron or bronze, would have made the body, as they called it, prohibitively heavy. the use of aluminum was not entirely novel at this time, as it had been utilized in many automobile engine parts, particularly crankcases; but its incorporation in this rather uncommon combination represented a bold step. there was no choice in the matter of the alloy to be used, the only proven one available was an percent copper percent aluminum combination. by means of the proper webs, brackets and bosses, the crankcase would also carry the crankshaft, the rocker arms and bearings, and the intake manifold. the open section of the case at the top was covered with a screw-fastened thin sheet of cold-rolled steel. the main bearing bosses were split at a ° angle for ease of assembly. the engine support and fastening were provided by four feet, or lugs, cast integral on the bottom corners of the case, and by accompanying bolts (figure ). although the crankcase continued to be pretty much the "body" of the internal combustion aircraft engine throughout its life, the wrights managed to incorporate in this original part a major portion of the overall engine, and certainly far more than had ever previously been included. the design of the cylinder barrel presented fairly simple problems involving not much more than those of keeping the sections as thin as possible and devising means of fastening it and of keeping the water jacket tight. they saved considerable weight by making the barrel quite short, so that in operation a large part of the piston extended below the bottom of it; but this could be accepted, as there were no rings below the piston pin (figure ). the barrel material, a good grade of cast iron, was an almost automatic choice. in connection with these seemingly predetermined decisions, however, it should be remembered that their goal was an engine which would work without long-time development, and that, with no previous experience in lightweight construction to guide them they were nevertheless compelled to meet a weight limit, so that the thickness of every wall and flange and the length of every thread was important. with the separate cylinder barrel they were now almost committed to a three-piece cylinder. it would have been possible to combine the barrel and head in a one-piece casting and then devise a method of attachment, but this would have been more complex and certainly heavier. for housing the valves, what was in effect a separate cylindrical, or tubular, box was decided upon. this would lie across the top of the cylinder proper at right angles to the cylinder axis, and the two valves would be carried in the two ends of this box. the cylinder barrel would be brought in at its head end to form a portion of the cylinder head and then extended along its axis in the form of a fairly large boss, a mating boss being provided on one side of the valve box. the cylinder barrel would then be threaded into the valve box and the whole tightened or fastened to the crankcase by means of two sets of threads, one at each end of the barrel proper. this meant that three joints had to be made tight with only two sets of threads. this was accomplished by accurate machining and possibly even hand fitting in combination with a rather thick gasket at the head end, one flat of which bore against two different surfaces. this can be seen in figure , where the circular flange on the valve box contacts both the crankcase and the cylinder barrel. altogether it was a simple, light, and ingenious solution to a rather complex problem. at this point the question arises: why was the engine layout such that the exhaust took place close to the operator's ears? it would have been possible, starting with the original design, to turn the engine around so that the exhaust was on the other side. this would have little effect on the location of the center of gravity, and the two main drive chains would then have been of more equal length. however, of the many factors involved, probably one of the principal considerations in arriving at their final decision was the location of the spark-advance control, which was in effect the only control they had of engine output, except for complete shutoff. in their design this was immediately adjacent to the operator; with a turned-around engine, an extension control mechanism of some sort would have been required. the noise of the exhaust apparently became of some concern to them, as orville's diary in early contains an entry with a sketch labeled "design for muffler for engine," but there is no further comment. the problem of keeping joints tight, and for that matter the entire construction itself, were both greatly simplified by their decision to water-jacket only a part of the cylinder head proper, and the valve box not at all. this was undoubtedly the correct decision for their immediate purpose, as again they were effecting savings in time, cost, complexity, and weight. there is nothing in the record, however, to show why they continued this practice long after they had advanced to much greater power outputs and longer flight times. their own statements show that they were well aware of the effect of the very hot cylinder head on power output and they must also have realized its influence on exhaust-valve temperature. the cylinder assembly was made somewhat more complicated by their desire to oil the piston and cylinder by means of holes near the crankshaft end in what was, with the engine in the horizontal position, the upper side of the cylinder barrel. this complication was no doubt taken care of by not drilling the holes until a tight assembly had been made by screwing the barrel into place, and by marking the desired location on the barrel. since this position was determined by a metal-to-metal jam fit of the crankcase and cylinder barrel flange, the barrel would reassemble with the holes in very nearly the same relative position after disassembly. with the valve box, or housing, cylindrical, the task of locking and fastening the intake and exhaust valve guides and seats in place was easy. the guide was made integral with and in the center of one end of a circular cage, the other end of which contained the valve seat (see figure ). four sections were cut out of the circular wall of the cage so that in effect the seat and guide were joined by four narrow legs, the spaces between which provided passages for the flow of the cylinder gases. these cages were then dropped into the ends of the valve boxes until they came up against machined shoulders and were held in place by internal ring nuts screwed into the valve box. the intake manifold or passage was placed over the intake valves so that the intake charge flowed directly into and through the valve cage around the open valve and into the cylinder. the exhaust gas, after flowing through the passages in the valve cage, was discharged directly to the atmosphere through a series of holes machined in one side of the valve box. [illustration: _figure ._--first flight engine, , assembly. (phantom cutaway by j. h. clark, with key, courtesy _aeroplane_.) key and . bearing caps in one piece with plate . . plated screwed over hole in crankcase end. . key-shaped hole as hole in intermediate ribs. . inter-bearings cap (white-metal lined) and screwed to inter-rib halves . . splash-drip feed to bearings. . return to pump from each compartment of crankcase base ("sump") via gallery and pipe to pump underneath jacket. . oil feed from pump via rubber tube . . drip feeds to cylinders and pistons. . gear drive to pump. . big-end nuts, lock-strip, and shims. . gudgeon-pin lock. . piston-ring retainer pegs. . cylinder liner screwing into jacket. . open-ended "can" admits air. . fuel supply. . (hot) side of water jacket makes surface carburetter. . sparking plug (comprising positive electrode and spark-producing make-and-break ). . lever attached to lever via bearing screwed into chamber neck . . levers with mainspring and inter-spring , and rocked by "cam" . . cam with another alongside (for adjacent cylinder). . positive busbar feed to all four cylinders. . assembly retaining-rings. . sealing disc. . exhaust outlet ports. . camshaft right along on underside of jacket and also driving oil pump via . . spring-loaded sliding pinion drives make-and-break shaft through peg in inclined slot . . cam to push pinion along and so alter its angular relation with shaft (to vary timing). . exhaust-valve cams bear on rollers mounted in end of rocker-arms . . generator floating coils. . friction-drive off flywheel. . sight-feed lubricator (on stationary sleeve). . hardwood chain tensioner.] the intake and exhaust valves were identical and of two-piece construction, with the stems screwed tightly into and through the heads and the protruding ends then peened over. this construction was not novel, having had much usage behind it, and it continued for a long time in both automobile and aircraft practice. one-piece cast and forged valves were available but here again it was a choice of the quick, cheap, and proven answer. the entire valve system, including guides and seats, was of cast iron, a favorite material of the wrights, except for the valve stems, which were, at different times, of various carbon steels. ordinary cold-rolled apparently was used in those of the original engine, but in later engines this was changed to a high-carbon steel. the piston design presented no difficulty. in some measure this was due to the remarkable similarity that seems to have existed among all the different engines of the time in the construction of this particular part, for, although there were some major variations, it was, in fact, almost as if some standard had been adopted. pistons all were of cast iron and comparatively quite long (it was a number of years before they evolved into the short ones of modern practice); they were almost invariably equipped with three wide piston rings between the piston pin and the head; and, although there were in existence a few pistons with four rings, no oil wiper or other ring seems to have been placed below the piston pin. the wrights' piston was typical of the time, with the rings pinned in the grooves to prevent turning and the piston pin locked in the piston with a setscrew. in designing this first engine they were, however, apparently somewhat unsure about this latter feature, as they provided the rod with a split little end and a clamping bolt (see figure ), so that the pin could be held in the rod if desired; but no examples of this use have been encountered. the wrights' selection of an "automatic" or suction-operated inlet valve was entirely logical. mechanically operated inlet valves were in use and their history went back many years, but the great majority of the engines of that time still had the automatic type, and with this construction one complete set of valve-operating mechanisms was eliminated. they were well aware of the loss of volumetric efficiency inherent in this valve, and apparently went to some pains to obtain from it the best performance possible. speaking of the first engine, orville wright wrote, "since putting in heavier springs to actuate the valves on our engine we have increased its power to nearly hp and at the same time reduced the amount of gasoline consumed per hour to about one-half of what it was."[ ] [footnote : assuming a rich mixture, consumption of all the air, and an airbrake thermal efficiency of . % for the original engine, the approximate volumetric efficiency of the cylinder is calculated to have been just under %.] why they continued with this form on their later engines is a question a little more difficult to answer, as they were then seeking more and more power and were building larger engines. the advantages of simplicity and a reduced number of parts still existed, but there also was a sizable power increase to be had which possibly would have more than balanced off the increased cost and weight. they did not utilize mechanical operation until after a major redesign of their last engine model. very possibly the answer lies in the phenomenon of fuel detonation. this was only beginning to be understood in the late s, and it is quite evident from their writings that they had little knowledge of what made a good fuel in this respect. it is fairly certain, however, that they did know of the existence of cylinder "knock," or detonation, and particularly that the compression ratio had a major effect on it. the ratios they utilized on their different engines varied considerably, ranging from what, for that time, was medium to what was relatively high. the original flight engine had a compression ratio of . : . the last of their service engines had a compression ratio about twenty percent under that of the previous series--a clear indication that they considered that they had previously gone too high. quite possibly they concluded that increasing the amount of the cylinder charge seemed to bring on detonation, and that the complication of the mechanical inlet valve was therefore not warranted. [illustration: _figure ._--first flight engine, , cross section. (drawing courtesy science museum, london.)] the camshaft for the exhaust valves ( , figure ), was chain driven from the crankshaft and was carried along the bottom of the crankcase in three babbit-lined bearings in bearing boxes or lugs cast integral with the case. both the driving chain and the sprockets were standard bicycle parts, and a number of bicycle thread standards and other items of bicycle practice were incorporated in several places in the engine, easing their construction task. the shaft itself, of mild carbon steel, was hollow and on each side of an end bearing sweated-on washers provided shoulders to locate it longitudinally. its location adjacent to the valves, with the cam operating directly on the rocker arm, eliminated push rods and attendant parts, a major economy. the cams were machined as separate parts and then sweated onto the shaft. their shape shows the principal concern in the design to have been obtaining maximum valve capacity--that is, a quite rapid opening with a long dwell. this apparent desire to get rid of the exhaust gas quickly is manifested again in the alacrity with which they adopted a piston-controlled exhaust port immediately they had really mastered flight and were contemplating more powerful and more durable engines. this maximum-capacity theory of valve operation, with its neglect of acceleration forces and seating velocities, may well have been at least partially if not largely the cause of their exhaust-valve troubles and the seemingly disproportionate amount of development they devoted to this part, as reported by chenoweth, although it is also true that the exhaust valve continued to present a problem in the aircraft piston engine for a great many years after, even with the most scientific of cam designs. the rocker arm ( , figure ) is probably the best example of a small part which met all of their many specific requirements with an extreme of simplicity. it consisted of two identical side pieces, or walls, of sheet steel shaped to the desired side contour of the assembly, in which were drilled three holes, one in each end, to carry the roller axles, and the third in the approximate middle for the rocker axle shaft proper. this consisted of a piece of solid rod positioned by cotter pins in each end outside the side walls (see figure ). the assembly was made by riveting over the ends of the roller axles so that the walls were held tightly against the shoulders on the axles, thus providing the correct clearance for the rollers. the construction was so light and serviceable that it was essentially carried over to the last engine the wrights ever built. the basic intake manifold (see figure ) consisted of a very low flat box of sheet steel which ran across the tops of the valve boxes and was directly connected to the top of each of them so that the cages, and thus the valves, were open to the interior of the manifold. through an opening in the side toward the engine the manifold was connected to a flat induction chamber ( , figure ) which served to vaporize the fuel and mix it with the incoming air. this chamber was formed by screw-fastening a piece of sheet steel to vertical ribs cast integral with the crankcase, the crankcase wall itself thus forming the bottom of the chamber. a beaded sheet-steel cylinder resembling a can ( , figure ) but open at both ends was fastened upright to the top of this chamber. in the absence of anything else, this can could be called the carburetor, as a fuel supply line entered the cylinder near the top and discharged the fuel into the incoming air stream, both the fuel and air then going directly into the mixing chamber. the can was attached near one corner of the chamber, and vertical baffles, also cast integral with the case, were so located that the incoming mixture was forced to circulate over the entire area of exposed crankcase inside the chamber before it reached the outlet to the manifold proper, the hot surface vaporizing that part of the fuel still liquid. [illustration: _figure ._--first flight engine, : cylinder, valve box, and gear mechanism; below, miscellaneous parts. (photos courtesy science museum, london, and louis p. christman.)] fuel was gravity fed to the can through copper and rubber tubing from a tank fastened to a strut, several feet above the engine. of the two valves placed in the fuel line, one was a simple on-off shutoff cock and the other a type whose opening could be regulated. the latter was adjusted to supply the correct amount of fuel under the desired flight operating condition; the shutoff cock was used for starting and stopping. the rate of fuel supply to the engine would decrease as the level in the fuel tank dropped, but as the head being utilized was a matter of several feet and the height of the supply tank a matter of inches, the fuel-air ratio was still maintained well within the range that would ignite and burn properly in the contemplated one-power condition of their flight operation. this arrangement is one of the best of the many illustrations of how by the use of foresight and ingenuity the wrights met the challenge of a complex requirement with a simple device, for while carburetors were not in the perfected stage later attained, quite good ones that would both control power output and supply a fairly constant fuel-air mixture over a range of operating conditions were available, but they were complex, heavy, and expensive. the arrangement, moreover, secured at no cost a good vaporizer, or modern "hot spot." in their subsequent engines they took the control of the fuel metering away from the regulating valve and gravity tank combination and substituted an engine-driven fuel pump which provided a fuel supply bearing a fairly close relationship to engine speed. the reasons behind selection of the type of ignition used, and the considerations entering into the decision, are open to speculation, as are those concerning many other elements that eventually made up the engine. both the high-tension spark plug and low-tension make-and-break systems had been in wide use for many years, with the latter constituting the majority in . both were serviceable and therefore acceptable, and both required a "magneto". the art of the spark plug was in a sense esoteric (to a certain extent it so remains to this day), but the spark-plug system did involve a much simpler combination of parts: in addition to the plug and magneto there would be needed only a timer, or distributor, together with coils and points, or some substitute arrangement. the make-and-break system, on the other hand, required for each cylinder what was physically the equivalent of a spark plug, that is, a moving arm and contact point inside the cylinder, a spring-loaded snap mechanism to break the contact outside the cylinder, and a camshaft and cams to actuate the breaker mechanism at the proper time. furthermore, as the wrights applied it, the system required dry cells and a coil for starting, although these did not accompany the engine in flight. and finally there was the problem of keeping tight the joint where the oscillating shaft required to operate the moving point in the spark plug entered the cylinder. this is one of the few occasions, if not the only one, when the wrights chose the more complex solution in connection with a major part--in this particular case, one with far more bits and pieces. however, it did carry with it some quite major advantages. the common spark plug, always subject to fouling or failure to function because of a decreased gap, was not very reliable over a lengthy period, and was undoubtedly much more so in those days when control of the amount of oil inside the cylinder was not at all exact. make-and-break points, on the other hand, were unaffected by excess oil in the cylinder. because of this resistance to fouling, the system was particularly suitable for use with the compression-release method of power control which they later utilized, although they probably could not have been looking that far ahead at the time they chose it. high-tension current has always, and rightfully so, been thought of as a troublemaker in service; in beaumont's edition of _motor vehicles and motors_, which seems to have been technically the best volume of its time, the editor predicted that low-tension make-and-break ignition would ultimately supersede all other methods. and finally, the large number of small parts required for the make-and-break system could all be made in the wright brothers' shop or easily procured, and in the end this was probably the factor, plus reliability, that determined the decision which, all things considered, was the correct one. there was nothing exceptional about the exact form the wrights devised. it displayed the usual refined simplicity (the cams were made of a single small piece of strip steel bent to shape and clamped to the ignition camshaft with a simple self-locking screw), and lightness. the ignition camshaft ( , figure ), a piece of small-diameter bar stock, was located on the same side as the exhaust valve camshaft, approximately midway between it and the valve boxes, and was operated by the exhaust camshaft through spur gearing. that the wrights were thinking of something beyond mere hops or short flights is shown by the fact that the ignition points were platinum-faced, whereas even soft iron would have been satisfactory for the duration of all their flying for many years. the control of the spark timing was effected by advancing or retarding the ignition camshaft in relation to the exhaust valve camshaft. the spur gear ( , figure ) driving the ignition camshaft had its hub on one side extended out to provide what was in effect a sleeve around the camshaft integral with the gear. the gear and integral sleeve were slidable on the shaft and the sleeve at one place ( , figure ) was completely slotted through to the shaft at an angle of ° to the longitudinal axis of the shaft. the shaft was driven by a pin tightly fitted in it and extending into the slot. the fore-and-aft position of the sleeve on the shaft was determined by a lever-operated cam ( , figure ) on one side and a spring on the other. the movement of the sleeve along the shaft would cause the shaft to rotate in relation to it because of the angle of the slot, thus providing the desired variation in timing of the spark. the "magneto" was a purchased item driven by means of a friction wheel contacting the flywheel, and several different makes were used later, but the original is indicated to have been a miller-knoblock (see figure ). the connecting rod is another example of how, seemingly without trouble, they were able to meet the basic requirements they had set for themselves. it consisted of a piece of seamless steel tubing with each end fastened into a phosphor-bronze casting, these castings comprising the big and little ends, drilled through to make the bearings (see figures and ). it was strong, stiff and light.[ ] forged rods were in rather wide use at the time and at least one existing engine even had a forged i-beam section design that was tapered down from big to little end. the wrights' rod was obtained in little more time than it took to make the simple patterns for the two ends. the weight was easily controlled, no bearing liners were necessary, and a very minimum of machining was required. concerning the big-end material, there exists a contradiction in the records: baker, whose data are generally most accurate, states that these were babbited, but this must be in error, as the existing engine has straight bronze castings without babbiting, and there is no record, or drawing, or other indication of the bearings having been otherwise. [footnote : a rather thorough stress analysis of the rod shows it to compare very favorably with modern practice. in the absence of an indicator card for the engine, if a maximum gas pressure of five times the mep is assumed, the yield-tension factor of safety is measurably higher than that of two designs of piston engines still in wide service, and the column factor of safety only slightly less. the shear stresses in the brazed and threaded joints are so low as to be negligible.] different methods of assembling the rod were used. at one time the tube ends were screwed into the bronze castings and pinned, and at another the ends were pinned and soldered. there is an indication that at one time soldering and threads were used in combination. one of the many conflicts between the two primary sets of drawings exists at this point. the smithsonian drawings show the use at each end of adapters between the rod and end castings, the adapters being first screwed into the castings and pinned and then brazed to the inside of the tube. the science museum drawings show the tube section threaded and screwed into the castings. the direct screw assembly method called for accurate machining and hand fitting in order to make the ends of the tubing jam against the bottom of the threaded holes in the castings, and at the same time have the end bearings properly lined up. the weakness of the basic design patently lies in the joints. it is an attempt to utilize what was probably in the beginning a combination five-piece assembly and later three, in a very highly stressed part where the load was reversing. it gave them considerable trouble from time to time, particularly in the -cylinder vertical engines, and was abandoned for a forged i-beam section type in their last engine model; but it was nevertheless the ideal solution for their first engine. the crankshaft was made from a solid block of relatively high carbon steel which, aside from its bulk and the major amount of machining required, presented no special problems. it was heat-treated to a machinable hardness before being worked on, but was not further tempered. the design was an orthodox straight pin and cheek combination and, as previously noted, there were no counterweights to complicate the machining or assembly. a sizable bearing was provided on each side of each crank of the shaft, which helped reduce the stiffness requirement. their only serious design consideration was to maintain the desired strength and still keep within weight limitations. a fundamental that every professional designer knows is that it is with this particular sort of part that weight gets out of control; even an additional / in., if added in a few places, can balloon the weight. with their usual foresight and planning, the wrights carefully checked and recorded the weight of each part as it was finished, but even this does not quite explain how these two individuals, inexperienced in multicylinder engines--much less in extra-light construction--could, in two months, bring through an engine which was both operable and somewhat lighter than their specification. in one matter it would seem that they were quite fortunate. the records are not complete, but with one exception there is no indication of any chronic or even occasional crankshaft failure. this would seem to show that it apparently never happened that any of their designs came out such that the frequency of a vibrating force of any magnitude occurred at the natural frequency of the shaft. much later, when this type of vibration became understood, it was found virtually impossible, with power outputs of any magnitude, to design an undampened shaft, within the space and weight limitations existing in an ordinary engine, strong enough to withstand the stress generated when the frequency of the imposed vibration approximated the natural frequency of the shaft. the vibratory forces were mostly relatively small in their engines, so that forced vibration probably was not encountered, and the operating speed range of the engines was so limited that the natural frequency always fell outside this range. the flywheel was about the least complex of any of their engine parts and required little studied consideration, although they did have to balance its weight against the magnitude of the explosion forces which would reach the power transmission chains, with their complete lack of rigidity, a problem about which they were particularly concerned. the flywheel was made of cast iron and was both keyed to and shrunk on the shaft. some doubt still exists about the exact method of lubricating the first engine. the unit presently in the airplane has a gear-type oil pump driven by the crankshaft through a worm gear and cross shaft, and the appendix to the _papers_ states that it was lubricated by a small pump; nevertheless baker says, after careful research, that despite this evidence, it was not. also, the drawings prepared by christman (they were commenced under the supervision of orville wright) do not show the oil pump. in march wilbur wright wrote to chanute, "however we have added oiling and feeding devices to the engine ..."; but this could possibly have referred to something other than an oil pump. but even if a pump was not included originally, its presence in the present engine is easily explained. breakage of the crankcase casting caused the retirement of this engine, which was not rebuilt until much later, and the pattern for this part had no doubt long since been altered to incorporate a pump. it was therefore easier in rebuilding to include than to omit the pump, even though this required the addition of a cross shaft and worm gear combination. on later engines, when the pump was used, oil was carried to a small pipe, running along the inside of the case, which had four small drill holes so located as to throw the oil in a jet on the higher, thrust-loaded side of each cylinder. the rods had a sharp scupper on the outside of the big end so placed as also to throw the oil on this same thrust face. some scuppers were drilled through to carry oil to the rod bearing and some were not. the first engine was finished and assembled in february and given its first operating test on february. the wrights were quite pleased with its operation, and particularly with its smoothness. their father, bishop wright, was the recorder of their satisfaction over its initial performance, but what he noted was probably the afterglow of the ineffable feeling of deep satisfaction that is the reward that comes to every maker of a new engine when it first comes to life and then throbs. they obtained hp originally: later figures went as high as almost , but as different engine speeds were utilized it is rather difficult to settle on any single power figure. the most realistic is probably that given in the _papers_ as having been attained later, after an accurate check had been made of the power required to turn a set of propellers at a given rpm. this came out at approximately hp, the design goal having been . following exactly the procedure that exists to this day, the engine went through an extended development period, and it was the end of september before it was taken, with the airplane, to kitty hawk where the historic flights, which have had such a profound effect on the lives of all men, were made on december . the engines with which they mastered the art of flying two more engines of this first general design were built but they differed somewhat from each other as well as from the original. together with a third -cylinder engine these were begun right after the first of the year in , shortly after the wrights' return from kitty hawk. in planning the -cylinder engine they were again only being forehanded, but considerably so, in providing more power for increased airplane performance beyond that which might possibly be obtained from the -cylinder units. progress with the -cylinder engines was such that they fairly quickly concluded that the -cylinder size would not be necessary, and it was abandoned before completion. exactly how far it was carried is not known. the record contains only a single note covering the final scrapping of the parts that had been completed; and apparently there were no drawings, so that even its intended appearance is not known with any exactness. it was probably a ° v-type using their original basic cylinder construction. the changes carried through in the two -cylinder engines were not major. the water-cooled area of the cylinder barrel was increased by nearly ten percent but the head remained only partially cooled. in hindsight, this consistent avoidance of complete cylinder-head cooling presents the one most inexplicable of the more important design decisions they made, as it does not appear logical. in the original engine, where the factors of time and simplicity were of paramount importance, this made sense, but now they were contemplating considerably increased power requirements, knowing the effect of temperature on both the cylinder and the weight of cylinder charge, and knowing that valve failure was one of their most troublesome service problems. nor does it seem that they could have been avoiding complete cylinder cooling through fear of the slightly increased complexity or the difficulty of keeping the water connections and joints tight, for they had faced a much more severe problem in their first engine, where their basic design required that three joints be kept tight with only two sets of threads, and had rather easily mastered it; so there must have been some much more major but not easily discernible factor which governed, for they still continued to use the poorly cooled head, even carrying it over to their next engine series. very probably they did not know the effect on detonation of a high-temperature fuel-charge. one of the new engines was intended for use in their future experimental flying and has become known as _no. ._ it had a bore of - / in., incorporated an oil pump, and at some time shortly after its construction a fuel pump was added. the fuel pump was undoubtedly intended to provide a metering system responsive to engine speed and possibly also to eliminate the small inherent variation in flow of the original gravity system. this engine incorporated a cylinder compression release device not on the original. the exact reason or reasons for the application of the compression release have not been determined, although the record shows it to have been utilized for several different purposes under different operating conditions. whatever the motivation for its initial application, it was apparently useful, as it was retained in one form or another in subsequent engine models up to the last -cylinder design. essentially it was a manually controlled mechanism whereby all the exhaust valves could be held open as long as desired, thus preventing any normal charge intake or compression in the cylinder. its one certain and common use was to facilitate starting, the open exhaust valves easing the task of turning the engine over by hand and making priming easy. in flight, its operation had the effect of completely shutting off the power. the propellers would then "windmill" and keep the engine revolving. one advantage stated for this method of operation was that when power was required and the control released, the engine would be at fairly high speed, so that full power was delivered immediately fuel reached the engine. it is also reported to have been used both in making normal landings and in emergencies, when an instant power shutdown was desired. although it is not clear whether the fuel shutoff cock was intended to be manipulated when the compression release was used for any of these reasons, over the many years of its availability, undoubtedly at one time or another every conceivable combination of operating conditions of the various elements was tried. because of the pumping power required with at least one valve open during every stroke, the windmilling speed of the engine was probably less than with any other method of completely stopping power output, but whether this difference was large enough to be noticeable, or was even considered, is doubtful. since a simple ignition switch was all that was required to stop the power output, regardless of whether a fuel-control valve or a spark-advance control was used, it must be concluded that the primary function of the compression release was to facilitate starting, and any other useful result was something obtained at no cost. the compression release was later generally abandoned, and until the advent of the mechanical starter during the s, starting an engine by "pulling the propeller through" could be a difficult task. with the wrights' demonstrated belief that frugality was a first principle of design, it is hardly conceivable that they would have accepted for any other reason the complication of the compression-release mechanism if a simple ignition switch would have sufficed. the compression-release mechanism was kept relatively simple, considering what it was required to accomplish. a small non-revolving shaft was located directly under the rocker arm rollers that actuated the exhaust valves. four slidable stops were placed on this shaft, each in the proper location, so that at one extreme of their travel they would be directly underneath the rocker roller and at the other extreme completely in the clear. they were positioned along the shaft by a spring forcing them in one direction against a shoulder integral with the shaft, and the shaft was slidable in its bearings, its position being determined by a manually controlled lever. when the lever was moved in one direction the spring pressure then imposed on the stops would cause each of them to move under the corresponding rocker roller as the exhaust valve opened, thus holding the exhaust valve in the open position. when the shaft was moved in the other direction the collar on the shaft would mechanically move the stop from underneath the roller, allowing the valve to return to normal operation. [illustration: _figure ._--development engine no. , - , showing auxiliary exhaust port, separate one-piece water-jacket block. (photo by author.)] if the engine is the most significant of all that the wrights built and flew, then certainly the _no. _ unit was the most useful, for it was their sole power source during all their flying of and and, as they affirmed, it was during this period that they perfected the art, progressing from a short straightaway flight of seconds to a flight controllable in all directions with the duration limited only by the fuel supply. it is to be greatly regretted that no complete log or record was kept of this engine. the wrights again exhibited their engineering mastery of a novel basic situation when, starting out to make flight a practical thing, they provided engine _no. _ to be used for experimental purposes. in so doing they initiated a system which continues to be fundamental in the art of providing serviceable aircraft engines to this day--one that is expensive and time consuming, but for which no substitute has yet been found. their two objectives were: improvement in performance and improvement in reliability, and the engine was operated rather continuously from early until well into . unfortunately, again, no complete record exists of the many changes made and the ideas tested, although occasional notes are scattered through the diaries and notebooks. in its present form--it is on exhibition at the engineers club in dayton, ohio--the _no. _ engine embodies one feature which became standard construction on all the wright -cylinder models. this was the addition of a number of holes in a line part way around the circumference of the cylinder barrel so that they were uncovered by the piston at the end of its stroke toward the shaft, thus becoming exhaust ports (see figure ). this arrangement, although not entirely novel, was just beginning to come into use, and in its original form the ports exhausted into a separate chamber, which in turn was evacuated by means of a mechanically operated valve, so that two exhaust valves were needed per cylinder. elimination of this chamber and the valve arrangement is typical of the wrights' simplifying procedure, and it would seem that they were among the very first to use this form.[ ] [footnote : rankin kennedy, _flying machines--practice and design_, .] the primary purpose of the scheme was to reduce, by this early release and consequent pressure and temperature drop, the temperature of the exhaust gases passing the exhaust valve, this valve being one of their main sources of mechanical trouble. it is probable that with the automatic intake valves being used there was also a slight effect in the direction of increasing the inlet charge, although with the small area of the ports and the short time of opening, the amount of this was certainly minor. with the original one-piece crankcase and cylinder jacket construction, the incorporation of this auxiliary porting was not easy, but this difficulty was overcome in the development engine by making different castings for the crankcase itself and for the cylinder jacket and separating them by several inches, so that room was provided between the two for the ports. this engine demonstrated the most power of any of the flat s, eventually reaching an output of approximately hp, which was even somewhat more than that developed by the slightly larger - / -in.-bore flight engine, with which hp was not exceeded. indicative of the development that had taken place, the performance of the _no. _ engine was twice the utilized output of the original engine of the same size, an increase that was accomplished in a period of less than three years. the wrights were only twice charged with having plagiarized others' work, a somewhat unusual record in view of their successes, and both times apparently entirely without foundation. a statement was published that the flight engine was a reworked pope toledo automobile unit, and it was repeated in an english lecture on the wright brothers. this was adequately refuted by mcfarland but additionally, it must be noted, there was no pope toledo company or car when the wright engine was built. this company, an outgrowth of another which had previously manufactured one-and two-cylinder automobiles, was formed, or reformed, and a pope license arrangement entered into during the year . the other incident was connected with whitehead's activities and designs. whitehead was an early experimenter in flying, about the time of the wrights, whose rather extraordinary claims of successful flight were published in the - period but received little attention until very much later. his first engines were designed by a clever engineer, anton pruckner, who left at the end of , after which whitehead himself became solely responsible for them. it was stated that the wrights visited the whitehead plant in bridgeport, connecticut, and that wilbur remained for several days, spending his time in their machine shop. this was not only categorically denied by orville wright when he heard of it but it is quite obvious that the or any other of the wright engine designs bears little resemblance to pruckner's work. in fact, its principal design features are just the opposite of pruckner's, who utilized vertical cylinders, the -stroke cycle, and air-cooling, which whitehead at some point changed to water-cooling.[ ] [footnote : considerable doubt surrounds whitehead's actual flight accomplishments, but pruckner's engines were certainly used, as several were sold to early pioneers, including charles wittemann. it is probable that the specific power output was not very great, for the air-cooled art of this time was not very advanced and pruckner had a rather poor fin design. but the change to water cooling eliminated this trouble, and the engines were most simple, should have been relatively quite light, and with enough development could probably have been made into sufficiently satisfactory flying units for that period.] the four-cylinder vertical demonstration engine and the first production engine in , while still doing general development work on the flat experimental engine, the wrights started two new engines, and for the first time the brothers engaged in separate efforts. one was "a modification of the old ones" by wilbur and the other, "an entirely new pattern" by orville. there is no record of any of the features of wilbur's project or what was done in connection with it. two months after the experimental operation of the two designs began, an entry in wilbur's diary gives some weight and performance figures for the " " x " rebuilt horizontal," and since orville's design was vertical the data clearly refer to wilbur's; but since the output is given only in test-fan rpm it does not serve to indicate what had been accomplished and there is no further mention of it. orville's design became the most used of any model they produced. it saw them through the years from to or , which included the crucial european and united states army demonstrations, and more engines of this model were manufactured than any of their others including their later -cylinder. although its ancestry is traceable to the original engine, the design form, particularly the external configuration, was considerably altered. along with many individual parts it retained the basic conception of four medium-size cylinders positioned in line and driving the propellers through two sprocket wheels. from the general tenor of the record it would seem, despite there being no specific indication, that from this time on orville served as the leader in engine design, although this occurred with no effect whatsoever on their finely balanced, exactly equal partnership which endured until wilbur's death in . the first major change from the design, putting the engine in an upright instead of flat position, was probably done primarily to provide for a minimum variation in the location of the center of gravity with and without a passenger. whether or not it had any influence, the vertical cylinder arrangement was becoming predominant in automobile powerplants by this time, and the wright engines now began to resemble this prevailing form of the internal combustion engine--a basic form that, in a wide variety of uses, was to endure for a long time. over the years, the wrights seem to have made many changes in the engine: the bore was varied at different times, rod assembly methods were altered, and rod ends were changed from bronze to steel. chenoweth states that on later engines an oil-control ring was added on the bottom of the piston, necessitating a considerable increase in the length of the cylinder barrel. this arrangement could not have been considered successful, as it apparently was applied to only a limited number of units and was not carried over to the later -cylinder engine model. there was much experimentation with cam shapes and most probably variations of these got into production. with the crankcase, they did not go all the way to the modern two-piece form but instead retained the one-piece construction. assembly was effected through the ends and a detachable plate was provided on one side for access to the interior. it is clear that they regarded this ability to get at the interior of the case without major disassembly as a valuable characteristic, and later featured it in their sales literature. they were apparently willing to accept the resultant weakening of the case and continued the construction through their last engine model. the integrally cast cylinder water jackets were abandoned and the top of the crankcase was machined flat to provide a mounting deck for individual cylinders. the use of aluminum alloy was continued, and the interior of the case was provided with strengthening webs of considerable thickness, together with supporting ribs. the cam shaft was supported directly in the case. the individual cylinder design was of extreme simplicity, a single iron casting embodying everything except the water jacket. the valves seated directly on the cast-iron cylinder head and the guides and ports were all contained in an integral boss on top of the head. the exhaust valve location on the side of the engine opposite the pilot was a decided advantage over that of the design, where the exhaust was toward the pilot. a four-cornered flange near the bottom of the cylinder provided for fastening it to the crankcase, and a threaded hole in the top of the head received a vertical eyebolt which served as the rocker-arm support. the cylinder was machined all over; two flanges, one at the bottom and the other about two-thirds of the way down provided the surfaces against which the water jacket was shrunk. the jacket was an aluminum casting incorporating the necessary bosses and double shrunk on the barrel; that is, the jacket itself was shrunk on the cylinder-barrel flanges and then steel rings were shrunk on the ends of the jacket over the flanges. the jacket thickness was reduced by machining at the ends, making a semigroove into which the steel shrink rings fitted. these rings insured the maintenance of a tight joint despite the tendency of the aluminum jacket to expand away from the cast-iron barrel. [illustration: _figure ._-- -cylinder vertical engine: a, magneto side; b, valve port side with intake manifold removed; c, flywheel end of engine at carillon park museum, dayton, ohio; d, magneto side with crankcase cover removed. (photos: a, smithsonian a- ; b, d, pratt & whitney d- , ; c, by a. l. rockwell.)] why the one-piece crankcase and cylinder jacket combination of the engine was abandoned for the individual cylinder construction can only be surmised. the difference in weight was probably slight, as the inherent weight advantage of the original crankcase casting was largely offset by the relatively heavy valve boxes, and the difference in the total amount of machining required, because of the separate valve boxes, cages, and attaching parts, also was probably slight. although the crankcase had shown itself to be structurally weak, this could have been cared for by proper strengthening. the design did have some fundamental disadvantages: it required a fairly complex pattern and expensive casting, plus some difficult machining, part of which had to be very accurate in order to maintain both gas and water joints tight; and the failure of any one cylinder that affected the jacket meant a complete crankcase replacement. it seems probable that a change was initially made mandatory by their intention to utilize the ported exhaust feature, the value of which they had proved in the experimental engine. the separate one-piece water jacket construction they had arrived at in this engine was available, but once the decision to change was made, the individual cylinder with its shrunk-on jacket had much to commend it--simplicity, cost, ease of manufacture and assembly and attachment, and serviceability. the advantages of the auxiliary, or ported, exhaust were not obtained without cost, however, as the water jacket around the barrel could not very easily be extended below the ports. thus, even though the water was carried as high as possible on the upper end, a large portion of the barrel was left uncooled, and the lack of cooling at the lower end, in conjunction with the uncooled portion of the head, meant that only approximately half the entire cylinder surface was cooled directly. the piston was generally the same as in the engine, except that six radial ribs were added on the under side of the head, tapering from maximum thickness at the center to nothing near the wall. they were probably incorporated as an added path for heat to flow from the center of the piston toward the outside, as their shape was not the best use of material for strength. the piston pin was locked in the piston by the usual set screw, but here no provision was made for the alternate practice of clamping the rod on the pin. this piston-pin setscrew construction had become a standard arrangement in automobile practice. the piston rings were the normal wide design of that time, with what would now be considered a low unit pressure. quite early in the life of this engine model the practice was initiated of incorporating shallow grooves in the surface of the more highly loaded thrust face of the piston below the piston pin to provide additional lubrication. this development apparently proceeded haphazardly. figure c shows three of the pistons from an engine of low serial number--the first of this model to be delivered to the u.s. navy--and it will be noted that one has no grooves, another has one, and the other has three. the eventual standardized arrangement provided three of these grooves, approximately / in. wide, extending halfway around the piston, and, although the depth was only a few thousandths of an inch, the amount of oil carried in them was apparently sufficient to assist in the lubrication of the face, as they were used in both the -and -cylinder engines. each cylinder was fastened to the crankcase by four nuts on studs driven into the aluminum case. valves and rocker arms were similar to those of the early engines, the automatic inlet valve being retained. the continued use of the two-piece valve is not notable, even though one-piece forgings were available and in use at this time; the automobile continued for many years to use this construction. the camshaft was placed at the bottom of the engine, inside the crankcase, and the rocker arms were actuated by pushrods which were operated by hinged cam followers. the pushrod was fastened in the rocker by a pin, about which it operated, through its upper end and was positioned near the bottom by a guide in the crankcase deck. the lower end of the rod bore directly on the flat upper surface of the cam follower, and valve clearance adjustment was obtained by grinding this end. the camshaft and magneto were driven by the crankshaft through a three-member train of spur gears (see figures , and ). the built-up construction of the connecting rod was carried over from the first engine, and in the beginning apparently the same materials were used, except that the big end was babbited. later the rod ends were changed from bronze to steel. the big end incorporated a small pointed scupper on one side for lubrication, as with the original, and this was sometimes drilled to feed a groove which carried oil to the rod bearing, but where the drilling was omitted, the only function the scupper then could perform was, as in the original engine, to throw a small amount of oil on the cylinder wall. the crankshaft and flywheel were similar in design to those on the engine, except that the sharp corners at the top and bottom of the crank cheeks were machined off to save weight (see figure f). an oil pump and a fuel pump were mounted side by side in bosses cast on the valve side of the crankcase; they were driven from the camshaft by worm gears and small shafts crossing the case. [illustration: _figure ._-- -cylinder vertical engine: a, cylinder assembly with valve mechanism parts; b, cylinder disassembled, and parts; c, pistons and connecting rods; d, bottom side of piston; e, crankshaft, flywheel and crankcase end closure; f, crankcase, with compression release parts. (pratt & whitney photos d- , , , , , , respectively.)] the camshaft construction was considerably altered from the design. although the reason is not entirely clear, one indication suggests that breakage or distortion of the shaft may have been encountered: whereas in the engine there had been no relationship between the location of the cams and the camshaft bearings, in this engine the exhaust valves were carefully positioned so that all cams were located very close to the supporting bearings in the crankcase. also, the camshaft was solid, although it would seem that the original hollow shaft construction could have provided equal stiffness with less weight. the final decision was possibly determined by the practicality that there existed no standard tubing even approximating the size and wall thickness desired. there still was no carburetor, a gear pump metering the fuel in the same manner as on the - engine. basically, the intake charge was fed to the cylinders by a round gallery manifold running alongside the engine. this was split internally by a baffle extending almost from end to end, so that the fuel mixture entering the manifold on one side of the baffle was compelled to travel to the two ends before it could return to the inside cylinder, this feature being a copy of their general intake arrangement. apparently various shapes and positions of entrance pipes with which to spray the fuel into the manifold were used; and the injection arrangement seems also to have been varied at different times. the fuel pump was not necessarily always used, as the engine in some of the illustrations did not incorporate one, the fuel apparently being fed by gravity, as on the original engine. chenoweth describes an arrangement in which exhaust heat was applied to the inlet manifold to assist the fuel vaporization process, but it is believed that this was one of the many changes made in the engine during its lifetime and not necessarily a standard feature. a water circulation pump was provided, driven directly by the crankshaft through a two-arm universal joint intended to care for any misalignment between the shaft and the pump. the water was piped to a horizontal manifold running along the cylinders just below the intake manifold, and a similar manifold on the other side of the engine collected it for delivery to the radiator. it is a little difficult to understand why it was not introduced at the bottom of the water jackets. the crankcase was a relatively strong and well proportioned structure with three heavy strengthening ribs running from side to side, its only weakness being the one open side. a sheet-iron sump was fastened to the bottom by screws and it would appear from its design, method of attachment, and location of the engine mounting pads that this was added some time after the crankcase had been designed; but if so it was apparently retrofitted, as engines with quite low serial numbers have this part. the ignition was by high-tension magneto and spark plug and this decision to change from the make-and-break system was undoubtedly the correct one, just as adoption of the other form originally was logical under the circumstances that existed then. the high-tension system was simpler and had now collected more service experience. the magneto was driven through the camshaft gear, and a shelf, or bracket, cast as an integral part of the case, was provided for mounting it. the spark advance control was in the magneto and, since spark timing was the only means of regulating the engine power and speed, a wide range of adjustment was provided. the engine had the controllable compression release which had been added to the _no. _ and _no. _ flat engines, although mechanically it was considerably altered from the original design. instead of the movable stop operating directly on the rocker roller to hold the exhaust valve open, it was located underneath a collar on the pushrod. this stop was hinged to the crankcase and actuated by a small rod running along and supported by the crankcase deck. longitudinal movement of this rod in one direction would, by spring pressure on each stop, push them underneath the collars as the exhaust valves were successively opened. a reverse movement of the rod would release them (see figure f). why they retained the method of manually operating the compression release, which was the same as had been used in the - engine, is not quite clear. that is, the mechanism was put into operation by pulling a wire running from the pilot to a lever actuating the cam which moved the control rod. when normal valve operation was subsequently desired, the pilot was compelled to reach with his hand and operate the lever manually, whereas a second wire or push-pull mechanism would have obviated the necessity for both the awkward manual operation of the lever and the gear guard which was added to protect the pilot's hand, the lever being located close to the camshaft gear. the -cylinder vertical engine was a considerable improvement over the previous designs. they had obtained a power increase of about percent, with a weight decrease of percent, and now had an engine whose design was almost standard form for good internal combustion engines for years to come. in fact, had they split the crankcase at the crankshaft center line and operated the inlet valves mechanically, they would have had what could be termed a truly modern design. they needed more cylinder cooling, both barrel and head, particularly the latter, and an opened-up induction system for maximum power output, but this was not what they were yet striving for. they had directly stated that they were much more interested in reliability than light weight. this engine model was the only one of the wright designs to be licensed and produced abroad, being manufactured in germany by the neue automobil-gesellschaft and by bariquand et marré in france. the latter was much more prominent and their engines were used in several early european airplanes. [illustration: _figure ._-- -cylinder vertical engine assembly, bariquand et marré version. (drawing courtesy bristol siddeley engines, ltd.)] [illustration: the wright brothers aero engine] the french manufacturer, without altering the basic design, made a number of changes of detail which seem to have greatly annoyed wilbur wright, although some of them could probably be listed as improvements, based on several features of later standard design. one consisted of an alteration in the position of the fuel and oil pumps, the latter being lowered to the level of the sump. the crankcase was drilled to provide forced-feed lubrication to the connecting rod big end and crankshaft main bearings. strengthening ribs were added to the pistons running from the upper side of the pin bosses to the piston wall, and the crankcase studs holding down the cylinders were replaced with bolts having their heads inside the case. the hinged cam follower was omitted and the pushrod bore directly on the cam through a roller in its end. the magneto was moved toward the rear of the engine a considerable distance and an ignition timing control device was introduced between it and its driving gear. instead of the magneto being mounted directly on the special bracket integral with the crankcase, a wooden board running from front to rear of the engine was used and this was fastened to the two engine support pads, the magneto bracket being omitted entirely. despite his criticism of the french motor and the quality of its manufacture, wilbur was compelled to install one in his own exhibition airplane during his early french demonstrations at le mans after rod failure had broken his spare crankcase, and much of his subsequent demonstration flying was made with the french product. the eight-cylinder racing engine by regular and special air meets and races were being held and various competitions for trophies conducted. among these the gordon bennett cup race for many years was considered a major event. for the competition it was decided to enter a wright machine and, since this was a race with speed the sole objective, the available -cylinder engine, even in a version pushed to its maximum output, was deemed too small. they built for it a special -cylinder unit in a °v form. they were thus resorting to one of their concepts--modifying and enlarging a version known and proved in use--as the proper method of most quickly increasing output. unfortunately again, there are essentially no detailed drawings available, so that the design cannot be studied.[ ] [footnote : a drawing of the camshaft is held by the franklin institute.] only one engine is historically recorded as having been built, although in view of the wrights' record of foresight and preparation it is almost certain that at least one spare unit, assembled or in parts, was provided. in any case, the airplane--it was called the _baby grand racer_--and engine were wrecked just before the race, and no physical parts were retained, so that the sole descriptions come from external photographs, memory, and hearsay. mcfarland thinks that possibly orville wright, particularly, was somewhat discomfited over the accident that eliminated the machine, as he had previously flown it quite successfully at a speed substantially higher than that of the ultimate winner, and he wanted to get it out of sight and mind as quickly as possible. the air force museum at wright field, dayton, ohio, has an incomplete set of drawings of a °v, -cylinder wright engine, but it is quite obvious from the basic design and individual features, as well as from at least one date on the drawings, that this conception is of a considerably later vintage than that of the _baby grand racer_. the racing engine was in essence a combination of two of the standard s on a redesigned crankcase utilizing as many of the -cylinder engine parts as possible. the rods were reported to have been placed side by side, and the regular -cylinder crankshaft, with alterations to accommodate the rods, was utilized. a single cam operated all the exhaust valves. it was compact and light, its only fundamental disadvantage being the inherent unbalance of the °v- . the arrangement provided a much higher powered unit in the cheapest and quickest manner, and one that could be expected to operate satisfactorily with the least development. the six-cylinder vertical engines shortly after the construction of the -cylinder engine the wrights were again faced with the ever-recurrent problem of providing a higher powered standard production engine for their airplanes, which were now being produced in some numbers. by this time, , there had been a relatively tremendous growth in both flying and automotive use of the internal combustion engine and as a result many kinds and sizes had been produced and utilized, so that numerous choices were presented to them. but if they were both to make use of their past experience and retain the simplicity they had always striven for, the more practical possibilities narrowed down to three: they could increase the cylinder size in the -cylinder combination, or they could go either to or cylinders in the approximate size they had previously used. [illustration: _figure ._--original -cylinder engine: a, push-rod side; b, valve-port side; c, crankcase with sump removed. (photos: smithsonian a- a, ; pratt & whitney d- , respectively.)] the -in. cylinder in combination with a -in. stroke would provide in four cylinders about the displacement they wanted. strokes of in. were not uncommon and cylinders of -in. bore had been very successfully utilized in high-output automobile racing engines many years before this, so there was seemingly no reason to doubt that the -in. cylinder could be made to operate satisfactorily, but it is not difficult to imagine the wrights' thoughts concerning the roughness of an engine with cylinders of this diameter. the question of the grade of available fuel may possibly have entered into their decision to some extent, but it seems far more likely that roughness, their perennial concern, was the predominant reason for not staying with the more simple -cylinder form (as we have seen, roughness to them meant the effect of the cylinder explosion forces). actually, of course, they never went larger than a - / -in. cylinder bore, and later aircraft engine experience would seem generally to confirm their judgment, for with the piston engine it has always been much more difficult to make the larger bores operate satisfactorily at any given specific output. while the °v, -cylinder arrangement would have enabled them to utilize a great number of the -cylinder-engine parts, it would have given them a somewhat larger engine than was their apparent desire, unless they reduced the cylinder size. and while they had had some limited experience in building and operating this kind of engine, and twice had chosen it when seeking more power, both of these choices were greatly influenced by the desire to obtain quickly an engine of higher power. it is also possible that something in their experience with the v- moved them away from it; the unbalanced shaking force inherent in the arrangement may well have become evident to them. what probably also helped them to their final conclusion was the fundamental consideration that the v- provided two extra cylinders which were not really needed. the eventual selection of the -cylinder was a slight compromise. in order to get the desired output the cylinder displacement was increased, but this was done by lengthening the stroke--the first time this had been altered since the original design. the increase (from to - / in.) was only / in., and the bore, the more important influence on fuel performance, was kept the same. overall, the choice was quite logical. they were utilizing the in-line construction upon which almost all of their now considerable experience had been based, and the sizes of and requirements for parts also conformed to this experience. they could, in fact, use many of the same parts. the natural balance of the -cylinder arrangement gave them a very smooth engine, and had they stiffened the shaft and counter-weighted the cranks, they would have produced the smoothest engine that could have been built at that time. in the literature are two references to a wright -cylinder engine constructed around the cylinders of the vertical . one of these is in angle's _airplane engine encyclopedia_, published in , and the other is in _aerosphere _, published in . the wording of the latter is essentially identical with that of the former; it seems a reasonable conclusion that it is a copy. although it is possible that such an engine was built at some time, just as the -cylinder racing engine was cobbled up out of parts from the -cylinder vertical, no other record, no engines, and no illustrations have been found. it is thus quite certain that no significant quantity was ever manufactured or utilized. the crankcase was considerably changed from that of the vertical , and was now in two pieces, with the split on the crankshaft center line. however, the shaft was not supported by the lower half of the case, as eventually became standard practice, but by bearing caps bolted to the ends of the upper case and, in between, to heavy ribs running across the upper case between the cylinders. the lower half of the case thus received none of the dynamic or explosion loads, and, serving only to support the engine and to provide for its mounting, was lightly ribbed. in it were incorporated integral-boss standpipe oil drains which discharged into a bolted-on sump. the upper half of the case was again left open on one side, giving the desired access to the interior, and, additionally, the design was altered to provide a method of camshaft assembly that was much simpler than that of the vertical (see p. ). the cylinder was also greatly altered from that of the vertical . it was made in three parts, a piece of seamless steel tubing being shrunk on a cast-iron barrel to form the water jacket, with a cast-iron cylinder head shrunk on the upper end of the barrel. this construction compelled the use of long studs running from the cylinder head to the case for fastening down the cylinder (see figures a-c). for the first time the cylinder heads were water-cooled, cored passages being provided, and more barrel surface was jacketed than previously, although a considerable area at the bottom was still left uncooled, obviously by direct intent, as the ported exhaust arrangement was no longer employed. also for the first time one-piece forged valves were used, but just when these were incorporated is not certain and, surprisingly, they were applied to the inlet only, the exhaust valve being continued in the previous two-piece screwed and riveted construction. the reasoning behind this is not evident. if a satisfactory two-piece exhaust valve had finally been developed it would be logical to carry it over to the new design; but exhaust valves normally being much more troublesome, it would seem that a good exhaust valve would make an even better inlet valve and, in the quantities utilized, the two-piece design should have been much cheaper. in the original -cylinder engine the inlet valves operated automatically as in all previous models, but at the time of a later extensive redesign ( ) this was changed to mechanical actuation, and the succeeding engines incorporated this feature. all the valve-actuating mechanism was similar to that of the vertical , and the engine had the usual compression-release mechanism, the detail design being carried over directly from the -cylinder. design of the piston followed their previous practice, with wide rings above the pin and shallow grooves below the pin on the thrust face, and with the pin fastened in the piston by a set screw. the piston had four ribs underneath the head (see figure b) radiating from the center and with the two over the pin bosses incorporating strengthening webs running down and joining the bosses. the piston length was reduced by in., thus giving a much less clumsy appearance and, with other minor alterations, a weight saving of percent (see figures b and c). the rods were for the first time made of i-section forgings, a major departure, machined on the sides and hand finished at the ends, with a babbit lining in the big end, the piston pin bearing remaining steel on steel. [illustration: _figure ._--original -cylinder engine: a, cylinder assembly and valve parts; b, bottom side of piston; c, piston, piston pin and connecting rod; d, valve mechanism; e, crankshaft and flywheel. (pratt & whitney photos d- , , , , respectively.)] at least two different general carburetion and induction systems were utilized, possibly three. one, and most probably the original, consisted of a duplicate of the injection pump of the -cylinder fitted to a manifold which ran the length of the engine, with three takeoffs, each of which then split into two, one for each cylinder. of this arrangement they tried at least two variations involving changes in the location and method of injecting the fuel into the manifold; and there seems to have been an intermediate manifold arrangement, using fuel-pump injection at the middle of the straight side, or gallery, manifold, which was fed additional air at both ends through short auxiliary inlet pipes. this would indicate that with the original arrangement, the end cylinders were receiving too rich a mixture, when the fuel in the manifold was not properly vaporized. although the exhaust was on the same side of the engine as the inlet system, no attempt was made to heat the incoming charge at any point in its travel. an entirely different system adopted at the time of the complete redesign in consisted of two float-feed zenith carburetors each feeding a conventional three-outlet manifold. this carburetor was one of the first of the plain-tube type, that is, with the airflow through a straight venturi without any spring-loaded or auxiliary air valves, and was the simplest that could be devised. when properly fitted to the engine, it gave a quite good approximation of the correct fuel and air mixture ratio over the speed-load running range, although it is considerably more than doubtful that this was maintained at altitude, as is stated in one of the best descriptions of the engine published at the time the carburetors were applied. the compression ratio of this engine was lowered by almost percent from that of the vertical . this, in combination with the low bore-to-stroke ratio, the unheated charge, and the later mechanically operated inlet valve, indicates that the wrights were now attempting for the first time to secure from an engine something approaching the maximum output of which it was capable. as the engine originally came out, it continued to utilize only one spark plug in each cylinder. the high-tension magneto had a wide range of spark advance adjustment, which again provided the only control of the engine when equipped with the original fuel pump injection. the location of the valves and pushrods was similar to that in the , so that the cams were immediately adjacent to the camshaft bearings, which were carried in the crankcase ends and in the heavy webs. the camshaft was gear-driven and the cam shape was similar to that of the last s, with a quite rapid opening and closing and a long dwell, leaving the valve opening accelerations and seating velocities still quite high. the crankshaft was a continuation of their basic design of rather light construction, particularly in the webs. the cheeks were even thinner (by / in.) than those of the although the width was increased by / in. (see figure e). for the first time they went to a forging, the rough contour type of the time, and utilized a chrome-nickel alloy steel. lubrication was by means of the usual gear pump, and the piston and rod bearings continued to be splash-fed. the rod big-end bearing carried a small sharp undrilled boss at the point where, on the other engines, had been located scuppers whose purpose was apparently still to throw lubricating oil on the cylinder wall carrying the more highly loaded side of the piston. the rod big-end bearing was lubricated by a hole on the top of the big-end boss catching some of the crankcase splash, which was then carried to the bearing by a groove. when the -cylinder engine was completely redesigned in this led to the introduction in late fall of that year of a new model called the - , the designating the rating in horsepower. there is little in the wright records to show why such a radical revision was thought necessary, but the general history of the period gives a rather clear indication. the competition had caught up to the wrights in powerplants. other engines were being installed in wright airplanes, and navy log books show these other engines being used interchangeably with those of the wrights. most of the descriptions of the new model published at the time it was introduced concentrate on the addition of the two carburetors and the mechanical operation of the inlet valves, but these were only two of many major changes. the cylinder was completely revised, the intake being moved to the camshaft side of the engine from its position adjacent to the exhaust, so that the two ports were now on opposite sides of the cylinder. by proper positioning of the rocker-arm supports and choice of their length and angles, all valves were made operable from a single camshaft. the shrunk-on steel water jacket cylinder was retained, but the water connections were repositioned so that the water entered at the bottom and came out at the top of the cylinder. over the life of the -cylinder engine several different valve types were used but the published specifications for the model - called for "cast iron heads"--the old two-piece construction. the piston pins were case hardened and ground and the crankshaft pins and journals were heat treated and ground. the fuel and oil pumps were removed from the side of the crankcase and a different ignition system was applied, although still of the high-tension spark-plug type which by this time had become general practice on all so-called high-speed internal-combustion engines. a second threaded spark-plug hole was provided in the cylinder head and despite its more common use for other purposes, it is evident that the intention was to provide two-plug ignition. it is doubtful that at the specific output of this engine any power difference would be found between one-and two-plug operation, so that the objective was clearly to provide a reserve unit in case of plug failure. however, it was also used for the installation of a priming cock for starting and because of the prevalence of single-wire ignition systems on existing and illustrated engines, it seems to have been used mostly in this manner, even though dual-ignition systems later became an unvarying standard for aircraft engines. viewed externally, the only part of the engine that appears the same as the original is the small lower portion of the crankcase; but what is more visually striking is the beauty of the new lines and extreme cleanness of the exterior design (see figures and ). many of their individual parts had shown the beauty of the sparse design of pure utility but it was now in evidence in the whole. despite the proven practical value of their other models, this is the only one that can be called a good-looking engine, instantly appealing to the aesthetic sense, even though the vertical is not an ugly engine. the appearance of their final effort, in a field they were originally reluctant to enter and concerning which they always deprecated the results of their own work, was a thing of which a technically trained professional engine designer could be proud. the - was continued in production and development until it became the - , and indications are that it eventually approached an output of horsepower. [illustration: _figure ._-- -cylinder - and - engine, right rear intake side. (pratt & whitney photo.)] [illustration: _figure ._-- -cylinder - engine, incorporating flexible flywheel drive, exhaust side. (smithsonian photo a- .)] minor design details and performance of the wright engines in the wright brothers' various models were many minor design items which altogether required a great deal of consideration, but which did not materially affect overall engine performance. the results generally could all be classed as good practice; however, one of these utilized in the -cylinder vertical engine was rather unorthodox and consisted of offsetting the cylinders with relation to the crankshaft. this arrangement, which can be seen in the drawing (figure ) was apparently an attempt to reduce the maximum side load on the piston during the power stroke, but since the peak gas loading usually occurs at about to percent of the power stroke, this probably did not have much effect, and it was not carried over to the -cylinder design. all engine bearings were of the plain sleeve type and, except for the bronze and steel bearings in the connecting rod, were of babbit. the advantages of babbit for bearings were discovered very early in the development of the mechanical arts, and apparently the wrights never encountered a bearing loading sufficiently high to cause a structural breakdown in this relatively weak material. valve openings show no variation through the successive production engines, although the wrights most probably experimented with different amounts. the engine and the vertical -and -cylinder all had lifts of / in., but the valve-seat angles varied somewhat; the records show included angles of ° to °--not a large difference. the valve-operating mechanism was the same from the first vertical onward. the high side thrust caused by the cam shape required for the very rapid valve opening they chose was, no doubt, the reason for the use of the hinged cam follower, and since the same general cam design was used in their last engine, the -cylinder, the same method of operation which had apparently proved very serviceable was continued. how satisfactory was the considerably simpler substitute used in the bariquand et marré version of the -cylinder engine is not known. possibly it was one of the alterations in the wrights' design that wilbur wright objected to, although in principle it more closely conforms to the later fairly standard combination valve tappet and roller construction: the available drawings do indicate, however, that the cam of the bariquand et marré engine was also altered to give a considerably less abrupt valve opening than the wright design, so that there was less side thrust. for the wright -cylinder engine their -cylinder cam was slightly altered to provide a rounding off near the top of the lobe, thus providing some reduction in the velocity before maximum opening was reached. all their cam designs indicate a somewhat greater fear of the effect of seating velocities than of opening accelerations. since the range of cylinder diameters utilized did not vary greatly, the valve sizes were correspondingly fairly uniform. the diameter of the valves for the original -in.-bore cylinder was in., while that for the - / -in. bore used in the -cylinder engine was actually slightly smaller, - / in. possibly the wrights clung too long to the automatic inlet valve, although it did serve them well; but possibly, as has been previously noted, there were valid reasons for continuing its use despite the inherently low volumetric efficiency this entailed. the inherent weakness in the joints of the three-piece connecting rod has been pointed out, but aside from this, the design was excellent, for all the materials and manufacturing methods required were readily available, and structurally it was very sound. tubular rods were still in use in aircraft engines in the s. the wrights had a surprisingly thorough grasp of the metallurgy of the time, and their choice of materials could hardly have been improved upon. generally they relied upon the more simple and commonly used metals even though more sophisticated and technically better alloys and combinations were available.[ ] case hardening was in widespread use in this period but their only utilization of it was in some parts of the drive chains purchased completely assembled and in the piston pins of their last engine. the treatment of the crankshafts of all their engines except the final -cylinder was typical of their uncomplicated procedure: the particular material was chosen on the basis of many years of experience with it, hardening was a very simple process, and the expedient of carrying this to a point just below the non-machinable range gave them bearing surfaces that were sufficiently hard, yet at the same time it eliminated the possibility--present in a heat-treating operation--of warping the finished piece. [footnote : baker states that the first crankshaft was made from a slab of armor plate and if this is correct the alloy was a rather complex one of approximately . -. carbon, . -. manganese, . silicon, . phosphorus, . sulphur, . - . nickel, . - . chromium; however, all the rest of the evidence, including orville wright's statement to dr. gough, would seem to show that it was made of what was called tool steel (approximately . carbon).] in the entire engine only five basic materials--excepting those in the purchased "magneto" and the platinum facing on the ignition-system firing points--were used: steel, cast iron, aluminum, phosphor bronze, and babbit. the steels were all plain carbon types with the exception of the sheet manifold, which contained manganese, and no doubt this was used because the sheet available came in a standard alloy of the time. overall, the wright engines performed well, and in every case met or exceeded the existing requirements. even though aircraft engines then were simpler than they became later and the design-development time much shorter, their performance stands as remarkable. as a result, the wrights never lacked for a suitable powerplant despite the rapid growth in airplane size and performance, and the continual demand for increased power and endurance. few service records dating from before , when the military services started keeping log books, have been found. some of those for the period toward the end of their active era have been preserved, but for that momentous period spanning the first few years when the wrights had the only engines in actual continuous flight operation, there seems to be essentially nothing--perhaps because there were no standard development methods or routines to follow, no requirements to be met with respect to pre-flight demonstrations or the keeping of service records. beginning in , however, and continuing as long as they were actively in business, they apparently had in progress work on one or more developmental or experimental engines. this policy, in combination with the basic simplicity of design of these engines, accounted in large measure for their ability to conduct both demonstrations and routine flying essentially whenever they chose. time between engine overhauls obviously varied. in mid an engine was "rebuilt after running about hours." this is comparatively quite a good performance, particularly when it is remembered that essentially all the "running" was at full power output. it was considerably after before the liberty engine was redesigned and developed to the stage where it was capable of operating hours between overhauls, even though it was being used at cruising, or less than full, power for most of this time. the wrights of course met with troubles and failures, but it is difficult, from the limited information available, to evaluate these and judge their relative severity. lubrication seems to have been a rather constant problem, particularly in the early years. although some bearing lubrication troubles were encountered from time to time, this was not of major proportions, and they never had to resort to force-feed lubrication of the main or rod big-end bearings. the piston and cylinder-barrel bearing surfaces seem to have given them the most trouble by far, and examination of almost any used early wright engine will usually show one or more pistons with evidence of scuffing in varying degrees, and this is also apparent in the photographs in the record. this is a little difficult to understand inasmuch as most of the time they had the very favorable operating condition of cast iron on cast iron. many references to piston seizure or incipient seizure, indicated by a loss of power, occur, and this trouble may have been aggravated by the very small piston clearances utilized. why these small clearances were continued is also not readily explainable, except that with no combination of true oil-scraper rings, which was the basic reason why the final form of aviation piston engine was able to reach its unbelievably low oil consumptions, their large and rather weak compression rings were probably not doing an adequate job of oil control, and they were attempting to overcome this with a quite tight piston fit.[ ] in any event, they did encounter scuffing or seizing pistons and cylinder over-oiling at the same time. as late as may in the wright _papers_ there appears the notation: "the only important change has been in the oiling. the engine now feeds entirely by splash...." [footnote : their intended piston ring tension is not known. measurements of samples from the -and -cylinder vertical engines vary greatly, ranging from less than / lb per sq in. to almost - / lb. the validity of these data is very questionable as they apply to parts with unknown length of service and amount of wear. it seems quite certain, however, that even when new the unit tension figure with their wide rings was only a small fraction of that of the modern aircraft piston engine.] their troubles tended to concentrate in the cylinder-piston combination, as has been true of almost all piston engines. references to broken cylinders are frequent. these were quite obviously cylinder barrels, as replacement was common, and this again is not readily explainable. the material itself, according to orville wright, had a very high tensile strength, and in the engine more than ample material was provided, as the barrel all the way down to well below the attachment to the case was / in. thick. the exact location of the point of failure was never recorded, but in its design are many square corners serving as points of stress concentration. also, of course, no method was then available for determining a faulty casting, except by visual observation of imperfections on the surface, and this was probably the more common cause. it is interesting, however, that the engine finally assembled in for installation in the airplane sent to england has a cracked cylinder barrel, the crack originating at a sharp corner in the slot provided at the bottom of the barrel for screwing it in place. valve failures were also a continuing problem, and chenoweth reports that a large proportion of the operating time of the - development engine was concentrated on attempts to remedy this trouble. none of their cams, including those of the -cylinder engine, evidence any attempt to effect a major reduction in seating velocities. united states navy log books of and record many instances of inlet valves "broken at the weld," indicating that some of the earlier -cylinder engines were fitted with valves of welded construction. for the engineer particularly, the fascination of the wrights' engine story lies in its delineation of the essentially perfect engineering achievement by the classic definition of engineering--to utilize the available art and science to accomplish the desired end with a minimum expenditure of time, energy, and material. light weight and operability were the guiding considerations; these could be obtained only through constant striving for the utmost simplicity. always modest, the wrights seem to have been even more so in connection with their engine accomplishments. although the analogy is somewhat inexact, the situation is reminiscent of the truism often heard in the aircraft propulsion business--few people know the name of paul revere's horse. yet, as mcfarland has pointed out, "the engine was in fact far from their meanest achievement." with hardly any experience in this field and only a meagerly equipped machine shop, they designed and assembled an internal combustion engine that exceeded the specifications they had laid down as necessary for flight and had it operating in a period of about two months elapsed time. the basic form they evolved during this unequalled performance carried them through two years of such successful evolutionary flight development that their flying progressed from a hop to mastery of the art. and the overall record of their powerplants shows them to have been remarkably reliable in view of the state of the internal combustion engine at that time. appendix characteristics of the wright flight engines ------------------------------------------------------------------------- _ _ - _ - _ - first flight experimental demonstrations service_ engine[a]_ flights_ and service_ ------------------------------------------------------------------------- cyl./form /flat /flat /vertical /vertical bore and stroke (in.) × - / × - / × - / × - / displacement (cu. in.) horsepower . - - - - rpm - - - - mep - - - - weight (lb) - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- [footnote a: concurrently with the wrights' first engine work, manly was developing the engine for the langley aerodrome, and a comparison of the wrights' engine development with that of manly is immediately suggested, but no meaningful comparison of the two efforts can be drawn. beyond the objective of producing a power unit to accomplish human flight and the fact that all three individuals were superb mechanics, the two efforts had nothing in common. the wrights' goal was an operable and reasonably lightweight unit to be obtained quickly and cheaply. manly's task was to obtain what was for the time an inordinately light engine and, although the originally specified power was considerably greater than that of the wrights, it was still reasonable even though manly himself apparently increased it on the assumption that langley would need more power than he thought. the cost and time required were very much greater than the wrights expended. he ended up with an engine of extraordinary performance for its time, containing many features utilized in much later important service engines. his weight per horsepower was not improved upon for many years. the wrights' engine proved its practicability in actual service. the manly engine never had this opportunity but its successful ground tests indicated an equal potential in this respect. a description of the langley-manly engine and the history of its development is contained in _smithsonian annals of flight_ number , "langley's aero engine of ," by robert b. meyer (xi+ pages, figures; smithsonian institution press, )] it is not possible to state the exact quantities of each engine that the wrights produced up to the time that their factory ceased operation in . chenoweth gives an estimate, based on the recollection of their test foreman, of vertical s and s. my estimate (see page ) places the total of all engines at close to . original wright-built engines of all four of these basic designs are in existence, although they are rather widely scattered. the smithsonian's national air and space museum has examples of them all, including, of course, the unique first-flight engine. their condition varies, but many are operable, or could easily be made so. among the best are the first-flight engine and the last vertical , at the smithsonian, the first vertical , at the united states air force museum, and the vertical , at the carillon park museum. the wrights were constantly experimenting and altering, and this in connection with the lack of complete records makes it almost impossible to state with any certainty specific performances of individual engines at given times. weights sometimes included accessories and at others did not. often they were of the complete powerplant unit, including radiator and water and fuel, with no clarification. in the table, performance is given in ranges which are thought to be the most representative of those actually utilized. occasionally performances were attained even beyond the ranges given. for example, the × -in. flat development engine eventually demonstrated hp at an mep of approximately psi. one important figure--the horsepower actually utilized during the first flight--is quite accurately known. in the - flight engine, after having been calibrated by their prony-brake test-fan method, was used to turn the flight propellers, and orville wright calculated this power to be . bhp by comparing the calibrated engine results with those obtained with the flight engine at kitty hawk when tested under similar conditions. however, since the tests were conducted in still air with the engine stationary, this did not exactly represent the flight condition. no doubt the rotational speed of the engine and propellers increased somewhat with the forward velocity of the airplane so that unless the power-rpm curve of the engine was flat, the actual horsepower utilized was probably a small amount greater than orville's figures. the lowest power figure shown for this engine is that of its first operation. no fuel consumption figures are given, primarily because no comprehensive data have been found. this is most probably because in the early flight years, when the wrights were so meticulously measuring and recording technical information on the important factors affecting their work, the flights were of such short duration that fuel economy was of very minor importance. after success had been achieved, they ceased to keep detailed records on very much except their first interest--the flying machine itself--and when the time of longer flights arrived, the fuel consumption that resulted from their best engine design efforts was simply accepted. the range obtained became mostly a matter of aerodynamic design and weight carried. orville wright quotes an early figure of brake thermal efficiency for the engine that gives a specific fuel consumption of . lb of fuel per bhp/hr based on an estimate of the heating value of the fuel they had. this seems low, considering the compression ratio and probable leakage past their rather weak piston rings, but it is possible. in an undated entry, presumably in , orville wright's notebook covered fuel consumption in terms of miles of flight; one of the stated assumptions in the entry is, "one horsepower consumes . pounds per horsepower hour"--still quite good for the existing conditions. published figures for the - engine centered around . lb/hp hr for combined fuel and oil consumption. the wright shop engine despite the fact that the wright shop engine was not a flight unit, it is interesting both because it was a well designed stationary powerplant with several exceedingly ingenious features, and because its complete success was doubtless a major factor in the wrights' decision to design and build their own first flight engine. put in service in their small shop in the fall of , it was utilized in the construction of engine and airframe parts during the vital years from through and, in addition, it provided the sole means of determining the power output of all of their early flight engines. by means of a prony brake, its power output was carefully measured and from this the amount of power required for it to turn certain fans or test clubs was determined. these were then fitted to the flight engines and the power developed calculated from the speed at which the engines under test would turn the calibrated clubs. although a somewhat complex method of using power per explosion of the shop engine was made necessary by the basic governor control of the engine, the final figures calculated by means of the propeller cube law seem to have been surprisingly accurate.[ ] restored under the personal direction of charles taylor, it is in the henry ford museum in dearborn, michigan, together with the shop machinery it operated. [footnote : _the papers of wilbur and orville wright_, volume , appendix.] the engine was a single cylinder, -stroke-cycle "hot-tube" ignition type. the cylinder, of cast iron quite finely and completely finned for its day, was air-cooled, or rather, air-radiated, as there was no forced circulation of air over it, the atmosphere surrounding the engine simply soaking up the dissipated heat. although this was possibly a desirable adjunct in winter, inside the small shop in dayton, the temperature there in summer must have been quite high at times. the operating fuel was city illuminating gas, which was also utilized to heat, by means of a burner, the ignition tube. this part was of copper, with one completely closed end positioned directly in the burner flame; the other end was open and connected the interior of the tube to the combustion chamber. the inlet valve was of the usual automatic type while the exhaust valve was mechanically operated. the fuel gas flow was controlled by a separate valve mechanically connected to the inlet valve so that the opening of the inlet valve also opened the gas valve, and gas and air were carried into the cylinder together. [illustration: _figure ._--shop engine, , showing governor and exhaust valve cam. (photo courtesy r. v. kerley.)] the engine was of normal stationary powerplant design, having a heavy base and two heavy flywheels, one on each side of the crank. these were necessary to ensure reasonably uniform rotational speed, as, in addition to having only one cylinder, the governing was of the hit-and-miss type. it had a × -in. bore and stroke and would develop slightly over hp at what was apparently its normal operating speed of rpm, which gives an mep of psi. the engine is noteworthy not only for its very successful operation but also because it incorporated two quite ingenious features. one was the speed-governing mechanism. as in the usual hit-and-miss operation, the engine speed was maintained at a constant value, the output then being determined by the number of power strokes necessary to accomplish this. the governor proper was a cylindrical weight free to slide along its axis on a shaft fastened longitudinally to a spoke of one of the flywheels. a spring forced it toward the center of the wheel, while centrifugal force pulled it toward the rim against the spring pressure. after each opening of the valve the exhaust-valve actuating lever was automatically locked in the valve-open position by a spring-loaded pawl, or catch. the lever had attached to it a small side extension, or bar, which, when properly forced, would release the catch and free the actuating lever. this bar was so positioned as to be contacted by the governor weight when the engine speed was of the desired value or lower, thus maintaining regular valve operation; but an excessive speed would move the governor weight toward the rim and the exhaust valve would then be held in the open position during the inlet stroke, so no cylinder charge would be ingested. since the ignition was not mechanically timed, the firing of the charge was dependent only on the compression of the inlet charge in the cylinder, so it made no difference whether the governor caused the engine to cease firing for an odd or even number of revolutions, even though the engine was operating on a -stroke cycle at all times. [illustration: _figure ._--shop engine, , showing operation of exhaust valve cam. (pratt & whitney drawing.)] the exhaust valve operating cam was even more ingenious. to obtain operation on a -stroke cycle and still avoid the addition of a half-speed camshaft, a cam traveling at crankshaft speed was made to operate the exhaust valve every other revolution (see figure ). it consisted of a very slim quarter-moon outline fastened to a disc on the crankshaft by a single bearing bolt through its middle which served as the pivot about which it moved. just enough clearance was provided between the inside of the quarter-moon and the crankshaft to allow the passage of the cam-follower roller. the quarter-moon, statically balanced and free to move about its pivot, basically had two positions. in one the leading edge was touching the shaft (figure b), so that when the cam came to the cam follower, the follower was forced to go over the top of the cam, thus opening the exhaust valve. when the cam pivot point had passed the roller, the pressure of the exhaust valve spring forced the following edge of the cam into contact with the shaft and this movement, which separated the leading edge of the cam from the shaft, provided sufficient space between it and the shaft for the roller to enter (figure c). thus, when the leading edge of the cam next reached the roller, the roller, being held against the crankshaft by the valve spring pressure (figure d), entered the space between the cam and the shaft and there was no actuation of the valve. in exiting from the space, it raised the trailing edge of the cam, forcing the leading edge against the shaft (figure a) so that at the next meeting a normal valve opening would take place. the cam was maintained by friction alone in the position in which it was set by the roller, but since the amount of this could be adjusted to any value, it could be easily maintained sufficient to offset the small centrifugal force tending to put the cam in a neutral position.[ ] [footnote : the wrights apparently never applied for an engine patent of any kind. this no doubt grew out of their attitude of regarding the engine as an accessory and deprecating their work in this field. a reasonably complete patent search indicates that this particular cam device has never been patented, although a much more complex arrangement accomplishing the same purpose was patented in , and a patent application on a cam-actuating mechanism substantially identical to that of the wrights and intended for use in a golf practice apparatus is pending at the present time.] bibliography angle, glenn d. wright. pages - in _airplane engine encyclopedia, an alphabetically arranged compilation of all available data on the world's airplane engines_. dayton, ohio: the otterbein press, . baker, max p. the wright brothers as aeronautical engineers. _annual report of ... the smithsonian institution ... for the year ended june , _, pages - , figures, plates. beaumount, william worby. _motor vehicles and motors: their design, construction, and working by steam, oil, and electricity._ volumes. philadelphia: j. b. lippincott, - . chenoweth, opie. power plants built by the wright brothers. _s.a.e. quarterly transactions_ (january ), : - . forest, fernand. _les bateaux automobiles._ paris: h. dunod et e. pinat, Éditeurs, . gough, dr. h. j. materials of aircraft construction. _journal of the royal aeronautical society_ (november ), : - . illustrated. kelly, fred c. _miracle at kitty hawk; the letters of wilbur and orville wright._ new york: farrar, straus and young, . ---------- _the wright brothers, a biography authorized by orville wright._ new york: harcourt, brace & co., . kennedy, rankin. _flying machines: practice and design. their principles, construction and working._ pages. london: technical publishing co., ltd., . lawrance, charles l. _the development of the aeroplane engine in the united states._ pages - in international civil aeronautics conference, washington, d.c., - december , papers submitted by the delegates for consideration by the conference. washington: government printing office, . mcfarland, marvin w. _the papers of wilbur and orville wright._ volumes. new york: mcgraw hill book co., . renstrom, arthur g. wilbur and orville wright: a bibliography commemorating the hundredth anniversary of the birth of wilbur wright, april , . washington, d.c.: the library of congress [government printing office], . contains entries. the -cylinder -horsepower wright motor. _aeronautics_ (november ), ( ): - . wright brothers. pages - in _aerosphere , including world's aircraft engines, with aircraft directory_, glenn d. angle, editor. new york: aircraft publishers, . index angle, glenn d., _baby grand racer_, baker, max p. , , , bariquand et marré, , - , - beaumount, william worby, , bristol siddeley engines, ltd., - carillon park museum, dayton, ohio, ix, n, , chanute, octave, chenoweth, opie, ix, , , , christman, louis p., ix, , , cole, gilmoure n., ix clarke, j. h., daimler-benz a. g., ix, , engineers club, dayton, ohio, ix, ford, henry, ford, henry, museum, dearborn, michigan, , forest, fernand, franklin institute, philadelphia, pennsylvania, ix, gough, dr. h. j., n howell cheney technical school, manchester, connecticut, x, , kelly, fred c, n kerley, r. v., ix, _kitty hawk flyer_, ii, langley [samuel p.] aerodrome, , loening, grover c, n manly, charles l., , maxim, sir hiram stevens, mcfarland, marvin w., , , , miller-knoblock manufacturing co., south bend, indiana, national park service, cape hatteras national seashore, ii, ix neue automobil-gesellschaft, porter, l. morgan, ix pratt & whitney aircraft corp., v, x, , - , , , , pruckner, anton, rockwell, a. l., ix, santos-dumont, alberto, science museum, london, x, , , , , , , , taylor, charles e., , united aircraft corp., v, x western society of engineers, whitehead, gustave, wittemann, charles, n wright, bishop milton (father), wright, katherine (sister), zenith carburetor, *u.s. government printing office: -- - publication in smithsonian annals of flight _manuscript_ for serial publications are accepted by the smithsonian institution press, subject to substantive review, only through departments of the various smithsonian museums. non-smithsonian authors should address inquiries to the appropriate department. if submission is invited, the following format requirements of the press will govern the preparation of copy. _copy_ must be typewritten, double-spaced, on one side of standard white bond paper, with - / " top and left margins, submitted in ribbon copy with a carbon or duplicate, and accompanied by the original artwork. duplicate copies of all material, including illustrations, should be retained by the author. there may be several paragraphs to a page, but each page should begin with a new paragraph. number all pages consecutively, including title page, abstract, text, literature cited, legends, and tables. a manuscript should consist of at least thirty pages, including typescript and illustrations. the _title_ should be complete and clear for easy indexing by abstracting services. include an _abstract_ as an introductory part of the text, followed by an identification of the _author_ that includes his professional mailing address. a _table of contents_ is optional. an _index_, if required, may be supplied by the author when he returns page proof. _headings_ are to be used discriminately and must be typed with extra space above and below. for matters of general style (including bibliography and footnotes or notes) follow _a manual of style_, th edition, university of chicago press, . for more detailed treatment on footnotes and bibliography see citation style manual prepared for mht publications (october ). use the modern order of citing dates: february . simple _tabulations_ in the text (e.g., columns of data) may carry headings or not, but they should not contain rules. formal tables must be submitted as pages separate from the text, and each table, no matter how large, should be pasted up as a single sheet of copy. use the _metric system_ instead of (or in addition to) the english system. _illustrations_ (line drawings, maps, photographs, shaded drawings) can be intermixed throughout the printed text. they must be clearly numbered in sequence, as they are to appear in the text. they will be termed _figures_ and should be numbered consecutively; 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"not a bit!" garry duncan, just behind the pilot who had asked the question, answered it in his usual, cool manner. behind him in the three-place open cockpit biplane, his thirteen-year-old chum displayed none of his calm. "i'm scared!" chick cried as the pilot cut down his throttle. chick raised his voice to a tremulous shout, "scott--turn back." the man at the controls laughed. "don't be a baby!" he counseled. "just because you see a cloud begin to look shimmery--the first sign of the ghost, according to all the pilots who have seen it--don't lose your nerve." "but--this ghost hunt might be dangerous," chick began to plead. "c-can't you--scott, can't you t-turn and go out on the bay?" "no. i cut the gun too much and the engine died. we have to glide in, dead-stick, to the best landing we can." there was no regret in the pilot's voice. he proposed to carry through his purposes. "but--" chick was hopeful as he offered an argument, "in the dark here, the swamp is dangerous--you might miss water and you'd get the wings torn in the grass." he added quickly, "or you may get our pontoons bogged--" as the airport searchlight made a cloud glow he cried, "yes--bogged down in the ooze." he expected to see the ship bank, indicating that his hint was being acted on. instead the ship's nose went down. scott, with a little laugh of amusement at chickering brown's fears, found additional terrors for the youngest of the pair with them. "yes," he agreed, "and then the spectre that always appears in the clouds might fly down on us and say 'boo!'" he turned, as they glided, high above the swamp. "how about it, garry? wouldn't that be awful?" garfield duncan, fifteen-year-old student-pilot and assistant to an airport manager's nephew, answered seriously. "terrible!" he agreed, "but it would be chick's own fault. he was so interested in the mystery that he vowed he wouldn't be scared." "well!" chick hoped for one means of allaying his fears--light. "why don't you throw over a landing flare, scott! it's pitchy-black down in the marsh." "scott will get us down, even without power." garry voiced his confidence in the test pilot who knew the channels and open water spaces like a book. "great scott," as they had nicknamed him, made many test flights for the american branch of a foreign seaplane manufacturer; of late, since an airport had been inaugurated in connection with the seaplane "base," scott had flown over the marsh at night, conducting tests of new lighting equipment, spotlight, searchlight and beacon. "if you're afraid," he added, "try whistling, chick, my boy! i've heard that ghosts won't come around if you whistle." usually garry did not tease his younger chum; but chick had been so confident of his own bravery, had so insistently begged to be one of the "spook trappers," that chick's terror in the face of darkness--and of nothing worse, so far--prompted him to be a little sarcastic. "it's all very well to sneer," said chick. "i wasn't scared, back in the design room--but here--" he stopped. they had been filing blue-prints in the plant of an italian aircraft building company when scott, its test pilot, had come quietly into the blue-print room where garry made the multitudes of blue-prints from pen drawings for the many detailed parts of the company's product. the secrecy of his entrance had fascinated garry's more youthful companion, who filed the blue-prints and sketches. chick had caught a hint of something secretive about scott; it had fired his ready imagination and he had been so eager to hover close that scott, after a moment of hesitation, had included him in the proposal he had made. "you both realize how serious that sky spook scare has come to be," he had whispered. "i wasn't going to say anything to chick, because he's pretty young--" at once chick had denied the insinuation, "--all right, chick," scott had continued. "just the same, i wasn't going to include you--but it may help, at that--if you are 'game' and not scarey." assured of chick's absolute bravery and perfect gameness the test pilot had suggested that he wanted to "get to the bottom--or top--of the spook business." "ever since the first pilot cracked up," he had said, "and explained that he thought he saw a spooky-looking crate flying straight at him out of a cloud, i've thought he was trying to 'cover up' his own carelessness with that story. the next one to see 'it' must have caught the scare and had an overdose of imaginittis. but it has gotten into the newspapers and they call the new airport 'mystery airport.' it's ruining business for don mcleod's uncle, and i'd like to help him out by proving that there isn't any ghost ship flying in and out of the clouds to make a pass at every pilot whose firm gives the new airport its business." garry had agreed with scott's theory that some hidden enemy was trying to ruin the airport's business, and hamper its growth. readily he had consented to help scott with his simple plan, which required that with scott the two youths would fly, that night, inviting the appearance of the ghostly, or human apparition, at which time scott felt confident that he could run down the culprit and end the scare before it further harmed the morale of the flying force or resulted in the loss of contracts for air line hangar space and landing and take-off fees. the eagerness with which chick had seconded the plan, his pleading to be included in the airplane's passengers as an observer and signalman, his stout declarations of his complete fearlessness, had suddenly become empty boasts when the three-place ship had reached the vicinity of the swamps adjacent to the airport but not yet drained and prepared for filling in. eventually the greater part of the swamps would be changed into good ground. engineers were already preparing to drain away the salt tides flowing in from long island sound and little neck bay. unless the unexplained mystery of the spectral sky denizen could be settled, it seemed unlikely that the swamp land need ever be reclaimed for airport expansion. scott, for years the hangar supervisor and chief test pilot for the airplane construction plant and seaplane base which had existed before the airport project in combination with them had been started, was very anxious, it seemed, to end the ghost scare. with his two youthful aides, confident garry and shivering chick, he made a good descent to the surface of a wide sheet of enclosed, shallow water, let the amphibian craft, which could make either earth or water landings, run out of momentum, and then sat back, loosening his helmet chin straps. "here's the full plan," he turned around in the cockpit in the dark, salty-smelling marsh, silent except for the plash of a leaping fish or the cry of a gull seeking a belated dinner, "i didn't want to be seen talking too long at the plant. you never know who 'might be'--you know!" "i understand," admitted garry. "let's hear it all." "i went to don as soon as i left you--and he's managed to get mr. mcleod to let him go aloft in the dart." he referred to a light, fast two-seater, the personal property of the airport manager, which his seventeen-year-old nephew had secured for the evening. "now, don is as good an amateur pilot as you'll find; but he lacks stunting experience. he will come here, set down, and then i'll take the dart and keep it warmed up and ready, while don, with you two for observers, will go up and cruise around--and invite mr. ghost to come at you!" chick shivered and muttered under his breath. "if mr. spectre shows up, you signal to me----" "i know." garry recalled arrangements used in other night communications, during night tests. "if the spook appears in the clouds, we set off a red flare. if 'it' takes off from the ground, we give you a green verey signal and you'll be able to catch anything slower than greased lightning in that dart--and drive down the ghost and prove it's only some human person, after all." "well, that's what i hope to do." "sup--supposing it isn't a h-human being?" "that would tickle me to pieces, chick, old top," laughed the pilot. "i'd sort of like to have it turn out that way. why? because i never shook hands with a ghost, and it ought to be a right nice experience." "he--it would scare you out of your togs!" scoffed chick. "oh, no!" scott assured him. "spectres, if they really do exist, can't hurt you. it's only your fear that can do you any harm. now, i like spooks!---" "yes?" garry pointed up toward the july night sky. "well, there's one! go up and get acquainted. we'll wait here!" he had meant to joke, to terrify chick; but he became silent and a trifle awed. there was--something!--black against a luminous summer cloud! chapter ii the airplane guard shuddering, terrified, chick clung to garry's steady arm as he gazed upward. one of the clustered clouds seemed to be picked out from the others by a phosphorescent glow: it was luminous but not fiery; whitish in tint rather than ruddy. out of it came a silent, gliding, dark shape--an airplane! for a brief interval garry felt his own blood chilling. that spectral shape was very much like the mental pictures he had visualized after he had listened to the story of the pilot who had cracked up because of a similar apparition. then the real explanation flashed into his mind. he gave a relieved laugh. "hooray!" he cried in the still, dark cockpit seat, "the ghost of the skies is explained." "so it is!" agreed scott, the pilot. "don't--" began chick; but his own words died as he saw that they were not facing any supernatural appearance. the light died out of the cloud as the airplane, a lightly-built and fast-moving craft, came steadily lower, closer. it was real! "it's don!" said garry, reassuringly. "yes, it is don, all right," agreed chick, his own fears gone. garry watched the light ship make its approach, silent but genuine and then gave chick a brief lecture. "i'm glad you came, after all--aren't you?" he remarked. "now you can see for yourself that every scare that seems to be started by spooks is all in the way you judge what you see." "it's that way just this time," admitted chick grudgingly. "the darkness, and the swamp, and all the talk made me think i saw a ghost ship coming out of a lighted cloud." "certainly," agreed garry, "and you thought that, because you heard somebody else say that was how the ghost appeared. but it turns out to be don in the dart, coming down out of the sky just when the control man at the airport had his searchlight switched on and turned it past the clouds." "for my part," scott informed the two chums, "i don't think the first crack-up happened because the pilot saw a real 'bus." "i do," argued garry. the talk ceased as the light ship came swiftly down, across the marsh, dropping lower, leveling off, setting its pontoon body lightly into the water. if not as experienced, in point of years, as scott, the seventeen-year-old junior flyer at the dart's controls was as expert. landings in daylight, night conditions, or in darkness, were easy for don: because of a season of timidity concerning "getting down," at the start of his flying practice, the youth had determined to break himself of his timidity before it interfered with his rapid progress. alone in his uncle's dart, he had made practice take-offs and landings in every sort of weather and under all imaginable conditions, until he was so sure of his ship that he had no uneasiness about setting down. he realized that the modern airplane is so well stabilized, so well designed, that it does just what its pilot wants it to do--that in every case where some part has not failed, the pilot's mental condition and its resulting reaction on the handling of the ship is what makes the difference between safe flying and accidents that result in injury or worse. the small, wide-winged craft sent out a split crest of foam, coming swiftly closer to the dragonfly; but it lost speed and don maneuvered it to a point close alongside the larger craft and with his own wings just a little behind those of the biplane. gliding up to its stop, the dart rested quietly in the still, rather murky water. "hello!" its pilot greeted the others. "did i give you a solution of the mystery of mystery airport!" "you certainly did!" garry admitted. "chick thought you were the flying phantom----" "just as the first pilot to crash thought some chance ship, lighted up by a flash of some beacon, was the ghost," don interrupted. "i'm not so sure of that," scott spoke, taking up the thread of a statement he had been about to make before the dart came down. "i've been interested in the mystery--i like spooks, you know----" "more than i do!" broke in chick, gloomily. scott, laughing, agreed. "every fellow to his taste," he quoted. "anyhow, i've been reading up on ghosts, and talking to some of the 'old inhabitants' around the marsh. want to know what i dug up?" all three eagerly chorused agreement. "away back in the days when airplanes were tricky to handle and the pilots knew less about aerodynamics than they do today," he stated, "a flyer was over this swamp, on just about this sort of night," he indicated the clustered, slow-moving, fleecy groups of clouds, some assuming the pyramid shape of thunderheads, "one of the clam-diggers at the edge of the swamp recalls it very plainly. he was out at low tide after clams when--it happened!" "what!" asked chick, forgetting his uneasiness and the gloomy, spooky environment in his suspense. the aviator had appeared suddenly, coming down, through a cloud, as scott repeated the tale told him by an old man who earned his meagre living with a clam-hoe and bucket; at the same instant another ship, diving swiftly in apparent oblivion of the first, came into view. "it must have happened in the flick of an eyelid," scott went on. "as old ike tells it, he heard the engines, looked up, saw one ship for a split second, saw the other, and then--saw them come together!" "oh!" exclaimed garry, "collided, did they!" scott completed his story quickly, after admitting that garry had diagnosed the accidental smash correctly. "right-o! and they never found one of the ships. it must have gone down in devil's sink." he referred to a portion of the marsh either of the quicksand bottom sort or very similar in the softness of its muddy shallows. "and---" "that's--why they found--a skeleton, there!" chick shivered as he spoke in a hushed voice. "maybe." "but--" don objected, "what connection is there between an accident years ago and the excitement that has gotten into some of the newspapers and made a reporter call our new development 'mystery airport?'" "ever read the 'proceedings' and other books of the society for psychical research?" scott questioned in turn. "i saw some of them in a bookstore," garry admitted. "they were too dull and prosy for me. just old stories collected by scientific men who were trying to find out whether ghosts existed or not." "what did they decide?" chick spoke eagerly. "nothing very definite," scott informed him. "but i've gone over a lot of the dry 'case-histories' and i firmly believe that if somebody has done something wrong, he has to haunt and stay around the place." "like a criminal 'haunting' the scene of his crime," chuckled don. "i'm surprised at you, scott. i believe, in every case, if you could get to the bottom of it you'd find that the ghost is either produced by fraud, or else some perfectly natural things are misjudged----" "chick thought you were the sky spook," broke in garry. "i believe that's so in most of the cases," scott agreed. "but this time i think the ghost is restless, because he was careless in coming along through the clouds where he couldn't see ahead far enough to be able to avoid other ships--and he may have caused the other ship to go down into the sink. that makes his spirit hang around, and of course whenever it appears, it lives over all the terrible scenes of the smash!" "but i just proved--" began don. "yes, you proved that people can be mistaken," scott was serious. "you didn't prove that any ship was near at the other times that pilots have claimed they saw the ghost." "one caught the fever from another," argued garry. "the first one saw something--or he tried to get out of culpability for carelessness in making his crack-up, by saying a spook put him out of control. the rest were all superstitious and the story got headway. the next pilot to see a flicker of summer lightning and a bird flying or anything at all, was quick to twist it into a spectre, and come down to tell his story and give everybody chills and shivers." "i think we'll soon find out," scott spoke quietly. surprised, the others clamored for his reason. "this is just the sort of night that the three other pilots had, when they claimed to see the ghost of an airplane coming out of luminous clouds," scott stated. "it's close, humid--storm-breeding july weather. "well, then, for another thing, if you check up you'll find that the spook has appeared every seven days--and this is the seventh night since this last time!" "let's go home, don," whispered chick, across the narrow span of water. don laughed. "no, sirree!" he retorted. "in the first place, if it is pure chance, nothing will happen, because it isn't reasonable that a beam of light from the control room search-lamp would strike a cloud every seventh night and four successive weeks. besides, it isn't possible that an airplane would be flying around just at the same time that light came, and that no other ship would be noticed." "no," declared garry. "my opinion is that it's some real person who flies out of the clouds, after seeing a ship coming. then he goes up into another cloud and is lost, and because of the first fib the pilot told to protect himself from censure by the board of inquiry sitting about the crack-up, all the rest believe they see a spook." "i think he is trying to use the ghost scare to drive business away from uncle," don asserted. "uncle has several people he can name who are none too fond of him. any one of them might be doing the 'spooking.'" "in that case," garry was practical, "if we go up, scouting, that person will know it, and won't 'appear' tonight." "that's why i liked scott's plan when he suggested guarding the sky," don agreed. "it's important, too--because uncle bruce is expecting to get a big airline to contract for space for its ships, servicing and all that, take-off and landing, and fuel and oil. it will mean a lot to him not to lose that contract. if we prevent any 'spooking' tonight, there won't be any newspaper scarehead stories tomorrow to make the men hesitate about signing up." "then let's get up out of this stagnant water!" urged chick, fired by the realistic explanation of the spectre. "we'll be a sort of sky watchman." "an airlane guard!" suggested garry. "that's it--an airlane guard!" scott agreed. "well, come in here, don, take this dragonfly aloft and cruise around. if you see signs of any other ship than the mail 'plane--it's due soon--let garry send over a green flare if it's in the air, or have chick fire a red verey if it goes up off the earth or water--and you go around on wingtip to point to it and start after it, and i'll come up on a slanting course, and we can corner the fellow, and end the mystery of the spectre in the clouds." "why not come up in the dragonfly, and let don fly the dart, too?" garry suggested. "the dragonfly isn't fast. the dart is. if the 'spook' pilot sees you young lads cruising around, he'll think it's just a joy-hop. if he happened to see you start out--with me--he'll suppose we are testing the visibility of the new airport lighting system--and he might try to scare up a little excitement for us, as he'd suppose. then, if don flew the dart, taking off first, to surprise him, the 'spook' might do stunts and i'd rather be the one to handle the dart in the night time if stunting is in order. as far as both ships flying around is concerned, what self-respecting ghost, or sensible enemy of mr. mcleod's, would give us a chance to drive him down and capture him if he saw two ships in the airlane waiting for him?" they saw the logic in his reasoning and agreed to abide by scott's original plan. the dragonfly was warmed up. don, in its pilot's seat, waved a hand to scott who had shifted to the other craft, opened his throttle carefully to avoid unnecessary air disturbance as he drove away from the dart, and then got his pontoons "on the step," so that take-off would be easy, and lifted the three-place dragonfly into the night. garry felt a thrill of expectancy. he loved the mysterious, but of the practical, worldly brand; he had no belief in supernatural things. this would be a chase against a human enemy of bruce mcleod, airport designer and airways development specialist. don, steady but hopeful, felt much the same. chick, for his part, snapped his safety belt with a little tremble of his fingers. he anticipated something fearful. his premonition was fulfilled. chapter iii the spectre in the cloud "there it is!----" chick's voice, shrill with terror, died away, and don, startled for an instant, almost let the glide become a dive; but he caught his stick and gunned ahead, giving up the glide they had been in. the radial engine, though of as silent a type as any, drowned any reply from garry or don until the youthful pilot, climbing, had gained a good thousand feet more of altitude. then he cut the gun and let the glide begin, so that the dart was quietly nose-low in a gentle glide. "don't go off at half-cock that way," he remonstrated. "no!" garry was a trifle annoyed by chick's impetuous screeches. "if you insist on yelling 'wolf!' every time the sheet lightning flickers on the clouds, you'd better be put down--and stop trying to be an airlane guard." "was it sheet lightning?" chick asked lamely. "yes. there's a storm brewing." "then we'd better go home!" "don't be so anxious." garry spoke sharply. "the storm isn't here and won't be for an hour. we're going to stay aloft at least till the mail 'plane comes in. they 're inaugurating the new ship-to-shore service and you wouldn't want to be making a pass at the field just when that crate comes over, and make him lose ten minutes waiting for us to shoot the field and land and get the ship off the runway." "no." don climbed again. that cruise, however, began to be tedious. already they had been for a good half hour aloft, cruising to and fro, mostly over the dismal, dark reaches of the salt marsh. don chose to stick quite closely over the area which had been the scene of one real mishap and several other narrowly averted crashes. the spectre had always appeared over the swamp. "i wish they'd start draining it," don mused, thinking of the gloomy marsh below his trucks. "those engineers spend so much time surveying! if they'd get their men out there, and start work, there'd soon be no dark place close to the airport, and the ghost would go away. or--if anybody should be trying to ruin uncle bruce's new real estate development and the airport business, they'd see it was no use and quit!" having nothing to occupy his mind, as he kept the dart almost automatically at flying speed and in level flight or climbing for a subsequent glide, the youth, depending on garry and chick for their first inkling of anything unusual, reviewed the strange mysteries which had upset the morale not only of the airport personnel and of the pilots, but of the residents of port washington and the vicinity, as well. four weeks before, to the day, just before the dedication of the new airport which had been opened in conjunction with the already established seaplane base and aircraft plant, an airplane had cracked up in the swamp. it had approached, down wind, over the morass that lay where the draining project would later bring airport expansion and a cottage community. since the full night-landing light equipment had not been completed, at the newly dedicated field, no provision had been made at that time for night landings and so no one had been on watch for the free-lance airplane which had gone down. its pilot had not been badly hurt and had managed to attract rescuers by use of flares. his story, told that night, and later persisted in at the inquiry board investigation of the smash, had been a weird one. it had fired the superstitious air folks to hear him affirm that he had been making his approach to try out the new field, quietly, when a sudden glow of light in a cloud almost dead ahead of his nose, only a scant few feet higher, had startled him. almost at the same instant, as he maintained in his assertion, from within the glowing cloud he had seen the swift approach of a shape. "it was an airplane, but it wasn't an airplane!" he had maintained, declaring that its shape was blurred, its outlines ghostly, its position seemingly also to shake up and down, as though either the ship was vibrating dreadfully or its very shape of terror made the moist cloud stuff shudder. "it seemed to be coming down and straight at me!" the pilot had declared. "i got just the glimpse--then i dived, and of course my engine was full gun and i power-dived and only came out of it just above the marsh." then he had added the finishing, terrifying word. "i looked up, to see what had become of that other 'bus, and--the sky was silent, deserted, dark!" on each of the succeeding seventh days, as don recalled, a pilot had set down, shaken and horrified, to report seeing a similar apparition of the skies, a very phantom coming out of clouds! "it's all imagination!" don murmured, reflectively. "one caught the scare from the other!----" "don!----" "there!--side-slip! quick!" don, catching the fright if not the sense of chick's scream, and the surprise of garry's order, kicked rudder to give the banked dart, making a gentle circuit of the swamp, a chance to shift downward and sideways. then he glanced to his left: common sense told him that the bank with left wingtip elevated, causing the slip to the right, and garry's consequent order meant that whatever gave rise to the order was to his left and slightly higher. he looked that way. just before a brightening shimmer of summer lightning blotted out the spectacle, don saw what made his flesh crawl. apparently lighting up a large, fluffy, steamy-white cloud with its own spectral glow, some phantom ship came fleetly forth through that misty, white screen. dark, almost black, yet not distinct and sharp, because of the mist he supposed, that mystical, phantasmic craft grew large--and was blotted from view by the bright flash of the distant storm. gone! absolutely vanished! once seen, for a bare instant, the strange and ghostly mirage had disappeared when the blaze of the lightning faded. immediately garry, cool and self-contained, sent over the side a parachute-flare, self-igniting with the jerk as the 'chute opened to sustain the vivid, unearthly light in mid-sky, slowly dropping. chick cowered. garry remained erect, calm, poised, staring swiftly above, to either side, and below. he saw nothing. slightly blinded by the recent flash of summer electricity, and still being a little dazzled by the green of the flare that had ignited almost in front of him, he could not make out any distinct object in any direction. don, who had been looking down at his inclinometer to gauge his bank as he glided, just when the cries first came, was not dazzled: he sent a swift, questing look in every direction. the sky was blank, except for the after-flare of the dying electrical discharge and the growing glare of the green light. "but--was that still the shadow of the spook 'plane, that i just saw?" he muttered, inquiring of his straining eyes. if so, the barely discerned shadow was gone. "i don't see scott!" he shouted back to chick. "do you?" chick, speechless, shook his head. "he's probably up above the clouds by this time!" called garry; he knew how fast was the dart. probably, as he reasoned it, the watching pilot had seen the light in the clouds before the green flare had gone over the side. its blaze had prevented their dimmed light from discerning the dart, that was all. "there comes the mail 'plane!" cried don, waving an arm toward the north. down the sound, bringing the mail from a vessel still a hundred miles from land, the swift 'plane was seeking to prove the commercial advisability of lopping off delays in getting trans-oceanic mail to its destination. they watched the fleet approach of the small ship that had been catapulted from a huge liner's cabin deck. "look!" chick's voice was shrill. garry even, caught his breath. unexpectedly, like the vision of a fantastic nightmare, don also saw the catastrophe. sharply, parallel with their own course, the mail 'plane tipped down its nose. before it, a luminous cloud seemed to glow with a weird, unearthly light. down went the mail craft--into darkness--into the bay. sharply don slapped his stick sidewise, kicking rudder. on wingtip he banked around, straightened, gave his engine full gun, elevating the nose, darting straight for that cloud. still it seemed to glow! on a full-gun climb don made his ship climb at that cloud. the glow disappeared. straight through the cloud he drove--and came out! except for their ship, immersed in that humid, wet mist for an instant, the cloud had been devoid of any tangible object. no other ship, hiding by some miracle of skilful piloting, had been there to dodge, to reveal itself in escaping don's intrepid charge. out of the cloud they sped. don cast his eyes backward. the fluff, hardly disturbed except for a swirl of fleecy smoke where their propeller had moiled up the edge of the filmy drapery, lay at the tail. "oh-h-h!" again, almost inarticulate, chick screamed. "dive!" as he cried out, garry realized that his call was useless--late! straight ahead of the dragonfly's speeding, climbing nose, in one more of those horrible, mistily glowing banks of summer moisture, lit as if with a phantom's phosphorescent fire, their horrified eyes saw a vision, dreadful, inescapable! two misty, shadowy airplanes, appearing as though silhouetted in shuddering brown against the gleaming of some infernal light, came at one another. don knew that his ship could not avoid adding its own crash to that cataclysmic impact. there was not time to dive. already the propeller was within a hundred feet of the others! don closed his eyes, braced. mechanically he had depressed the nose by throwing forward the stick. but there was no rip and rend of wings stripped off as they went under the trucks of those other airplanes. there was nothing--neither impact nor blow, crash nor other sound. don looked swiftly upward. the cloud was around them--dim--silent--ghostly! and dark! and the other ships--had they dived, fallen? or, were they but the phantoms of over-stimulated imagination? they had come together--but don realized that he had heard no crash. hastily he pulled out of the dive. soberly he turned the nose toward mystery airport--baffled--not knowing what to think, what to believe! chapter iv tempest and treachery seeing the direction taken by don, garry, using the light of the ever increasing flashes in the north, scribbled rapidly and sent a bit of paper forward. "going back?" he asked don in that fashion. as a vivid blaze of forked lightning leaped across the sky, don nodded. for answer garry extended his arm, outward and downward. the green flare, floating slowly downward, lit up the swamp beneath the dragonfly. looking down, don saw what garry meant. the mail 'plane lay in a tangled heap of marsh grass at the edge of the lighted space. a flash of lightning picked it out more sharply. in that more accented glimpse don made out the twisted wings and warped outlines. for a moment the more sinister apparition which had menaced the three chums had driven the pilot of the mail ship out of don's mind. he felt ashamed of his lack of consideration for a man whose airplane had gone down so swiftly. he swung back and began to drop the nose. the floating flare died out. chick, still searching the skies for that dreadful phantom whose advent had robbed him of all self-control and whose unexplainable disappearance had added to, rather than diminished his terror, cried out in dismay. he wanted very much to get among people, to feel the security of human companionship among older people. almost at once, however, chick's sense of decency came to his rescue. he was glad that his remonstrating call had not been heard because of the noise made by the engine. at heart chick had, like most impulsive youths, one of the kindest, most chivalrous, natures. resolutely he drove out his own selfish timidity, braced himself to ignore the shaking of his nerves and muscles. in the glare of a bright stream of heavenly fire, don turned a face that showed great concern. garry guessed the reason. the summer tempest, that had been prophesied by heat, humidity and the gathering thunder heads, was bearing down swiftly from the north, racing along the shore of the sound. its rapid approach gave don much uneasiness. wind, rain and turbulent wrench of storm could be avoided by going at once to the airport. they could set down, get the dragonfly in the hangar, and get help to proceed by safer ways to the rescue of the pilot. if they tried to set down in the water of the marsh, the storm might break upon them before they could rescue the fallen pilot, always supposing that they could get him out of his ship. garry, scribbling another note, passed it up. don read it in the next flicker of the intermittent lightning. "it is dangerous to try to go down. but his life may hang on quick aid." don, reading what garry had written, nodded, kept the nose down, added a spurt of the gun to be sure of clear cylinders, and then side-slipped to lose altitude as quickly as he could. he brought the ship to a level once more, and, while chick sent over white landing flares to help him chose his landing without risk, made contact with the water. while the dragonfly sped with diminishing momentum across the wide stretch of water they had formerly used, chick and garry were busy. from a conveniently located small locker chick drew out and uncoiled rope with which to secure the dragonfly if they were not able to go aloft and escape the storm. if they had to "ride it out" he wished to be able to stake down the wings and tail, to prepare the ship as well as possible against the tear and stress of high winds. he hoped that the airplane would run close to the edge of the open water. there, he knew, was a small dock, on the widened end of which stood a small, two-room shack used by a boatman who rented his small dories for crabbing excursions into the channels of the swamp. garry, with quick hands, drew out a first aid kit from a pocket in his cockpit, glancing into its box to assure himself that it contained the liniments, bandages and adhesives he might need. garry had taken a number of lessons in first aid and instinctively thought of the work of mercy he might be called upon to do. don, maneuvering the dragonfly up to as close proximity to the old dock as the safety of wings and propeller would allow, signaled to chick and called for one more white flare. dropping the floating light into the water, to augment for them the illumination provided by the almost incessant flickers of lightning, chick sprang up, and began to climb out on a brace and the wing-step at one side while don balanced him on the other. expertly don caught the rope end. it was plainly to be seen that the storm would be down upon them before they could take off safely and get high enough to avoid the moiling currents of the stormy area. bringing the ship as close to the dock as he could, by flinging a bight of the rope over a dock piling, don let the wind drift its tail outward. chick, on his side, clambered carefully forward across the lower wing until he could fling his part of the rope over another wooden upright. quickly, but carefully, they worked the ship around so that it was sheltered somewhat by the dock planking and to the leeward of the old house. by climbing out to the wingtip, gingerly so as not to injure the fabric and with each movement setting his weight on the supporting framework, chick, his terrors forgotten in action, held a flying wire with one hand, bent far outward, and managed to get his fingers over the gunwale of a dory tied under the wharf. he drew against the pull of the wind until he could get the dory and the low wingtip close enough together to enable him to step across. swiftly he untied the painter of the boat while garry aided don to use every available inch of their rope in securing the dragonfly against the pull and thrust of wind, the tossing waves that must soon fling the ship to and fro. their tasks completed, don and garry, one on the wharf planks, the other balancing the light flying craft, waited until chick could scull the dory close alongside the fuselage. there he stepped back onto the wing bracing, steadying the dory as garry and don entered it. "hang on!" he urged, as don caught a bracing wire to keep the two craft together, using his hand to fend off the rub of wood against the dragonfly's fabric body. "i'll break into the shack and get oars." agile, supple, quick, chick clambered to the planks. he ran around the small building, old, dilapidated, weather-worn. the door, he recalled from earlier visits, was toward the more solid shore a hundred yards beyond, from which a narrow runway enabled visitors to cross deep, mud-bottomed channels. to chick's surprise, the door stood ajar! he dashed in, waited until a flash of the swiftly coming electrical storm gave him light, located the racks of oars at one side, secured a pair and hurried out. "take flares!" he urged. "you might need to signal. i'll stay here!" he was anxious to make amends for his earlier weakness by braving the storm, guarding the dragonfly as best he could, in spite of the spooky look of that open door of the deserted interior of the shack. agreeing, as soon as they had secured the signal lights, don and garry sculled for all they were worth, got the dory away from the airplane, and then took their places, rowing hard for the stricken shape of the mail 'plane half way down the southern shore. chick hastily went from post to post, making certain that their knotted ropes were secure. then he turned back to the old hovel. hoarse and angry, the thunder rumbled, ever louder. across the water, in the dying light of the last flare they had ignited, he could see don and garry, their bodies rising and bending in rapid rhythms as they put all their strength behind the oars on their rescue errand. the door of the shack, when chick came to it again, stood as before. he hurried in. the wind began to blow in short, sharp puffs. a vivid fork of light thrust its fire from cloud to earth. a crash and rumble followed. chick shivered; but it was not from fear of the storm. somewhere within that small boathouse came a low moan! hollow, hard to locate, it chilled chick's very marrow. he braced his shaken nerves, standing just inside the doorway, his presence hidden from peering eyes by some old oilskins behind which he had hurriedly dodged. a glare of burning air, a blue-white bolt of fire, threw the inside of the place into brightness akin to day. in that flash chick's eyes caught the huddle of a body in a corner. at first terrified, then made calm by the thought that it must be the mail 'plane pilot who had managed to crawl along the swamp edge to shelter in the old place and needed instant attention, chick crossed the room. as he did so a glare of light more vivid than the others showed him for a fleeting instant the face of the man lying in a heap. "doc morgan!" chick cried out in amazement. "doc"---- the man was a sort of general helper around the airport, not very keen of wit, nor deft of hand; he aided when ships had to be trundled out of the hangar, and swept up the yards, and did other odd jobs. "doc" had earned his nickname because he was always gathering herbs which he maintained were of great medicinal value. curiously enough, the concoctions he administered to the amused airport personnel often proved to be very helpful. therefore "doc" was forgiven his dull wit and liked for his good nature. but what was he doing there, in the supposably untenanted boat shack? morgan stirred, groaned. chick bent down, "'doc'--are you hurt?" the man stirred again, and then chick, with a stare, moved back a step. the man was muttering. an empty bottle, reeking as did his breath with the odor of cheap alcohol, gave the clue to his condition. a fierce gust of wind swept through the place before it banged the door against its frame with a crash that made chick jump. before the slam of the door shut out the fire of a bolt that came close, chick saw a bit of paper caught up by the draft and sent through the air. he ran to the door, threw it wide, turned, and, waiting for the next gust, and its accompanying flash, he located the paper--secured it--caught sight of its marked surface, thin, inked lines on light tracing paper--and cried out, in disgust. "you traitor! you've taken some of the plans for the new all-metal ship! this is one! where are the others?" chapter v storm-tossed wings puffs of cool wind began to bend the tall grass while don and garry bent and pulled back at the dory's oars. rapidly the intensity of fitful flashes in the north increased, and the storm drew closer. "think we can make it?" gasped garry. "hope so!" don responded over his shoulder. ahead of them, but fully exposed to the blast of the coming tempest, lightning flashes revealed the torn, broken shape of the mail 'plane. if they could get there before the storm broke in its full fury they might rescue its pilot from the added menace of turbulent waters. already, while they were a quarter of a mile away, they saw that the time was all too short. "don!" called garry, "i thought i saw a sort of path on the shore, along the water, when the lightning came that last time." "i thought this was all marshy, soft ground," commented don, "but it might be that we could get around to the mail crate quicker if there was solid earth to run on. let's try!" they let the increasing wind drift them, aiding their efforts. bright and fierce, a flare of electric blue came across the sky. in its light they made out what looked like fairly firm earth, running in a swiftly narrowing strip from the mainland, a promontory jutting in a curving line into the grass-covered waters. if only that jut of land extended far enough they thought it possible to reach the smashed airplane by a safer route than the dory could afford. already it dipped and rolled, as they drove its nose on the wash of foam into the soft bank between the grasses. holding tightly to a handful of the sturdy vegetation, don began to progress into the bow. from the windward side garry dug his oar into soft bottom, steadying their craft as well as he could. the wind swept the stern around into the grass, but don managed to get a leg over the bow, to test the firmness of the bank. "i think it's solid enough to hold us," he cried, and got out of the dory, being careful to cling to the rope at the prow, lest his chum be drifted beyond the patch of solid ground, separating them and leaving garry to battle alone against the surge of wind and water. "it's safe!" don added. "i'll hold the painter, garry. come on. be careful to leave the oars in the bottom or the grass might pull them out of the boat." "i will!" garry picked up his first aid kit, stowed the oars, crawled forward and tumbled to a yielding sod which, nevertheless, did not break through. guiding themselves by the steadily increasing succession of lightning gleams, their voices drowned in the quickly following growls of thunder, wondering about the dragonfly, about scott, probably aloft in the dart, don and garry went from the dory, tied to a root, along a perilous and unknown path. don, in the van, had to part clumps of tossing, cumbering grass to test the solidity of footing before he went ahead; garry, clutching his kit and steadying his partner when a foot would miss the sometimes narrow band of safe path, followed. as a glare of vivid fire, followed almost instantly by a peal of angry thunder, revealed the upthrust wing of the smashed craft within a few feet, to one side, don stopped. it had been apparent to them for several yards, as they parted the clumps of grass, that the way went no further. "can you lift me up, make a 'back' for me, do you think?" garry asked as he carefully put down the first aid kit on the path they had just traversed. don, choosing his stand on what seemed to be the firmest spot--an old spar or block of driftwood embedded in the mud--bent forward, his hands braced on his knees. lithely, with his gymnasium training to give him confidence, garry put his weight on the elevated perch of don's back and leaped, forward, upward and outward, over the mud and water, as a chain of fiery light split the clouds to the roar of thunder. don, in that vivid flare, saw the lithe figure seemingly poised between sky and water, its outflung hands seeking for a grip on the leading edge of the wing that was closest to them. leaping up as soon as the weight left his supporting back, don saw those hands strike their target--but the light died as it seemed to him that garry slipped. peals of celestial cannon drowned a cry if there was any. with eyes still blinded by the fierceness of the last flash, don could not make out whether garry had been able to hold his grip or if he struggled in ooze and quagmire, sinking, helpless. "garry!" he shouted. from the north came another blaze of blue-white light. don gave a relieved cry. garry, one foot braced against the junction of fuselage and flying wire, one hand clinging to the wire, was safe! the moiled waters, reflecting the furious discharges of fire from above, were foaming across under the wind's whip, and don saw that if garry did not find the object of his search quickly, it would be too late. already the salty spume lashed his face, the fabric of the airplane quivered and shook to the beat of waves, and sunk in the soft mud, while wind under the wing failed to topple the whole craft onto the end of the promontory only because its trucks lay in clinging mud and steadied the ship. from across the end of the grassy bank don saw the distant glow of two red flares, smoking and guttering in the wind. chick was signaling. two red flares!--did that mean the air signal, for an airplane to land, the storm call "proceed no further!" or, don wondered, was chick himself in danger? "i can't go!" he muttered. "oh, garry--hurry!" garry, revealed by a fresh, and even more vivid stream of heavenly fire, was lifting something. don saw him wave, as if urging him to go away. then something heavy seemed to come against him, almost taking him off his feet. instinctively he clutched it, recovering his footing. "the mail sack!" he gasped. in the next vivid flash garry came, hand over hand, along the edge of the wing as the whole ship toppled forward, and the change of angle, freeing its trucks from the mud, enabled the wind to get under the wings with telling effect. as don steadied garry after his drop to the ground, the lightning showed the menace of the toppling airplane. backward they leaped, don with the heavy sack of precious mail. just missing them, the wing came down, the fuselage rested for a moment on the supporting earth and then earth, craft and all tumbled and torn by the wind, slipped on into deeper mud beyond the solid earth left just a foot beyond garry's toes. "let's get back!" gasped garry, shaken. "but the pilot?----" began don. "he wasn't there!" don realized, as they turned to retrace the way, that the pilot could have had time, scant but sufficient, to leap clear in a back-pack 'chute and that it would be impossible for them to comb the marsh for him in the rapidly coming blackness, wind and rain. as rapidly as they could, finally breaking into a run when they got clear of the most dangerous and slippery end of the promontory, don and garry raced toward the beckoning flares. carrying the mail pouch, impeded by it as it caught on the restraining grasses, don followed garry. garry, his eyes straining, tried to detect the figure of chick by their guiding light, but he saw no figure! as they came into the clear space near the boathouse, with wind whipping the first flecks of rain into their faces to add its cold warning to the sting of salt spray torn from the growing crests of waves, don and garry paused, almost stunned. the last ruddy glow of the flares, and the white fires almost constantly leaping across the zenith, showed them two forms emerging from the door of the hovel, toward the planks that led across the marsh to solid ground. they were struggling. they were locked together. one was large, the other small and slight. "chick!" yelled don, putting speed to his flying feet. the flares died. in a glare of light the larger figure broke free from the smaller as they came to the boarding. the lightning died out, leaving the sky a black, thunder-echoing void. the earth beneath was cloaked in the pall. with blinded eyes don stopped, fearing to crash into garry just ahead of him. they were too far away to see, in that masking blackness, what had happened. the last light had shown the smaller figure reeling backward, on the edge of the planks, it seemed. there was nothing to do! to run forward might mean being precipitated into the marshy channels. they waited for the next flash. with the perversity of storms, the lightning seemed exhausted for a long, mind-torturing moment. when next it flared up, two anxious hearts seemed to drop like leaden weights from two tight throats where they had striven to constrict the breath. bare and silent lay the narrow footway across the marsh. dark and sinister the water moiled in the channels beneath it. thick and brooding, the heavy grass bent and seemed to whisper mockingly in the wind. "garry!--where did chick go?" "don--i don't know! i can't see!" they ran forward while the light lasted. the next flashes gave them light to get to the edge of the footway over the marsh. they stared toward the grass, the water, the bare and unrevealing planks. chick was not visible. neither was his adversary. beyond the end of the planks the grass began again. don dropped the mail pouch: garry, his kit forgotten, deserted far behind them in the eel grass at the promontory end, ran across the planks. into the hovel don turned. on the narrow, twisting path beyond the planks garry searched, unable to see far because the grass stood so high. in the hut, with wind roaring around it, don strained his eyes to gain some truth from the upset table, the overturned lantern, the evidences of strife and of struggle that the lightning showed as its fire came leaping again through the doorway. quickly garry retraced his steps to be met on the planking by don. "there has been a fight!" cried don. "did you find anybody--see anything?" "no!" answered don, "but--listen!" as the thunder reverberated and echoed, followed by a deep silence, pounding feet came along the path they had recently used, from the promontory. they turned, staring into the south, the light coming at their backs from the sky fires. a man in a pilot's helmet and jacket, corduroy trousers and high boots, running in a staggering, uneven course, with an arm swinging limp at his side, hailed them. "help!----" the figure stopped, wavering, and crumpled on the earth. swiftly don and garry ran to the man who lay prone on the sod. "oh!" he moaned, and then, recovering slightly, he gasped, "can you get me to--doctor?--hurt--inside!" "it's the mail 'plane pilot!" cried don. he saw his duty, and there was scant time in which to do it. the first winged cohorts of the storm clouds had broken to shreds overhead. its first fury was expended. from the north came the gathering furies of its second, and more terrible onslaught. if don could get that dragonfly into the air and climb out of the turbulent area, he could get the pilot to some medical man; at the same time he might carry on that mail!--and send searchers to find chick. much depended on the safe delivery of the pouch garry had recovered. it was the first of what might be a successful series of ship-to-shore mail flights, from vast ocean greyhounds, in swift airplanes. its successful delivery meant a great future for don's uncle who had started the idea with the inception of his new airport. "yes!" don cried, bidding garry help him to lift the pilot to his feet. to get that tethered airplane, the dragonfly, started, warmed up and aloft, carrying pilot and mail, was his immediate concern. ably garry aided him. before the fury of the storm broke again, their storm-tossed wings cut the air, climbing swiftly through the darkness that seemed breathlessly waiting, still ominous, waiting--while don flew his best. then, from the north, the storm furies leaped. chapter vi "the thing that never was" stunned by the realization that the man who worked around the airport seemed to have betrayed those who trusted him, clinging to the roll of tracing paper that was his evidence of that betrayal, chick faced doc morgan in the dark hovel until the next flash of celestial fire showed him a lantern standing on the small, rickety table at one side. hastening over to the table chick fumbled on it, and in the drawer which remained partially open. he found a card of paper matches. quickly lifting the lantern slide and turning up the wick, chick ignited a match, applied it to the burner and adjusted his light. "listen here--" doe morgan, in his corner, struggled up to a sitting posture, groaned again and then took up his own refutation of chick's accusation. "listen, chick! i ain't a traitor, no such thing i ain't!" turning, in the feeble glow of the lantern as its wick burned with a queer, fitful light, chick's face showed his antagonism and unbelief. "no, sir," the man contended, "doc morgan, he may be 'queer' but he ain't no such a thing as a traitor, not him!" "look at this!" chick waved the rolled tracing. "----and this!" he indicated the overturned bottle that reeked of alcohol of the cheapest kind, lying on its side at the edge of the table. "you thought you'd celebrate getting away with the plans of the new all-metal ship, and nobody would know about it, off here in the marsh!" chick accused morgan fiercely. treachery was hateful to chick. the man had been allowed to stay around the aircraft building plant and the new airport because he was a harmless sort of scatter-brain, able to do simple chores, willing enough, and always "doctoring" people with his herb remedies, coming to the swamps for the peculiar forms of sea grasses and weed that he contended had medicinal value. he had been trusted. "how can you say you aren't a traitor?" chick challenged, motioning with the paper he clutched, keeping the table between himself and the man he no longer trusted, watchful, alert, angry. "what's that, you got there?" asked doc, making an effort to get to his feet. he fell back, groaning, and chick, in some surprise, noted that there was a handkerchief made into a rude bandage about his head. "you know, well enough!" chick spoke through the rumble and thud of thunder whose echoes reminded him of heavy cannon balls rolling along on cleats fastened to an inclined trough, as thunder was simulated in the local motion picture house for one of its "sound effects." "i never saw that, what you got, no i never!" declared doc. "here i come in the swamp, i do, for salt water weed to mix my herbs, and i see a storm coming fast, i do, and shelter here." "that's good!" scoffed chick. "it's truth, it is so! i come here, i do, and--" his face, in the spectral yellow gleams from the lantern, and the contrasting glare of intermittent lightning showing through the door, looked pale and weird, "--and i see--something i never thought i'd see outside of a nightmare, so i do----" chick's attention was arrested. "what do you mean," he demanded. "'see what you wouldn't see outside of a nightmare!' what is that!" "i can't tell you, that i can't! it was--too awful!" quickly chick recovered from his momentary dismay. the man was trying to divert him from his accusation, he decided. he made a gesture toward the emptied bottle. "that's what made you see whatever you think you saw!" he declared. "no!" doc got slowly and unsteadily to his feet. chick watched. "no," doc reiterated, "i never touched that till after i saw--it! i come in here, i did, i declare--to shelter. then i saw--it. it was in the corner, and i saw it, i did so! terrible, it was! green in the hair, and green in the face! and greenish hands! and all slimy and terrible, like it had come up out of the ooze, it was so!" chick crushed back his tendency to believe, and to be startled. "after--you'd emptied that!" he insisted, gesturing toward the old bottle. "no! no such thing. i knocked that over. it set there, it did, and i hit it, i jumped so. i hit the table, and i must either of got upset stumbling over my own feet or--it--hit me! that's when i took that--what was left in the bottle, to steady me, i did so!" chick, disgusted, unwilling to be hoodwinked, realizing that he had more important things to consider, refused to listen any longer. the dragonfly lay tied to the wharf piling: the wind was rising. his chums were off in the dark waters of the swamp on a rescue errand. "i can't bother with you," he snapped. "tell it to don's uncle, when we get out of this." doc remained silent, steadying himself by resting a hand on the wall, holding his seemingly aching head with the other. keeping the table between them, and braced against the ruse of a push against it to upset him, chick opened an end of the tracing and verified his earlier guess. the tracing certainly looked like the rough sketch for an airplane, with most of the bracing and internal structure of the fuselage inked in heavily, with the wide-spanning, thin, speedy "slotted" wings sketched in more lightly, with the tail assembly marked on, and with innumerable sets of figures, in ink, underneath the drawing. swiftly he rolled it up and put it back into his upper coat pocket, being sure that it could neither shake nor be dropped out by folding it over, jamming it down as far as he could, and snapping a safety pin he saw in the drawer across the pocket top. doe watched him with a woebegone look, as chick judged it to be. "i don't know what you're hiding, i don't that! nor why you say i'm what i declare i ain't no such a thing--a traitor. but i'm going on home, and doctor me up myself some." "go on!" chick braced for a rush, a surprise. none came. moodily, with head bent, doc walked to the doorway and out. following him, chick saw him, picked out by the flashes, cross the planks and disappear in the winding path. "who was that?" scott, coming around the side of the hovel from the wharf, made his presence known, asking the question sharply. "doc morgan," chick responded. "i found him here. he had finished off a bottle, and he had some tracings. i guess i forgot and left them out on the designing room table when we were talking about our plan for tonight." "tracings! you don't say? let's see them!" "in the morning!" said chick, eagerly. "you ought to go and help don and garry. where's the dart?" "over in the shelter of the grass, across the water, there. what are the other two doing?" quickly chick told him where don and garry had started for in the dory. they scanned the water. the dory, invisible, hidden and held by the wind among the weeds, told them no story of its abandonment. "i guess they're at the crack-up," surmised scott. "light two red flare signals, chick. get those two back here. if i don't get back to the dart she'll never get above the storm in time. the same for the dragonfly. get those boys back here! if don hurries he can get up aloft in time." moving away he added, "after the storm we'll search." chick climbed to the struts over a rocking, tossing wing of the tethered dragonfly, secured signals from the fuselage, and as he saw them set and ignited scott hurried off to get his own lighter ship out of the danger area. chick refused to go along, preferring to risk don's less experienced piloting. he would not desert his chums. "by gracious!" he exclaimed to himself, "i wonder if there are any more of those plans in the drawer of that table? doc might have tried to hide them, stopped to celebrate, got too 'tight' to know what he was doing, and struck his head when he staggered and fell. that would account for the drawer being open so the paper could blow out--i'll go and have another look!" he hastened back into the hovel, investigating by the flicker of the lantern, wind-blown, but staunchly holding its own. "funny!" commented the youthful searcher. "why did he have only the least important plan--the sketch? maybe he has the others on his person! i ought not to have let him go. but i was so----" he paused, his words choked back into his throat by a strange sound. had something struck the hovel? a blown limb, crashing against the side, could have made that heavy, but dull thud, hard to locate. to his horror, before he could locate the source of the crash, a low, sepulchral voice spoke! "go!--go!--i am the thing that never was--the man who never lived! go--or i take you with me--down--down--down-n-n-n!" chick whirled to face about. in a corner, behind him, half out of the floor, as it seemed, was the shape of the thing--terrifying, and yet surprising. green, dull and glistening, as if of plastered seaweed or wet rubber was its head. heavy, glistening, ooze-covered was the covering upon its partially disclosed torso. green, glistening, but dripping with slimy weed were its waving, beckoning hands. transfixed, rooted to his tracks, chick gasping, stared. seen in the unearthly, fitful flashes of lightning, the yellow lantern flicker and the dull refracted red from the burning flares outside, the apparition was horrifying enough. but chick felt his muscles unchained as the figure grew in height and advanced toward him, its long, glistening, weed-spattered arms outstretched. like a streak of fleeing terror chick raced out of the door. there he paused, uncertain. it was safer in the open than in the room: the signals and the brighter light outside the cabin would enable him to see better that thing of fear if it came forth. out it came, speaking no word. terrified, chick ran. but for all its flapping encumbrance of weird draperies, it was swift. it caught the youth. terror chilled his blood but he struggled. then his courage came welling to him. if those hands could grip they must be human, and if shins kicked in desperation could evoke human growls of dismay, he faced no spectre, but a flesh-and-blood creature. the man, in his horrid garments, was searching with exploring fingers while he tried to hold the squirming, kicking chick who strove to be free, to escape. there were shouts from the other side of the hovel; suddenly chick felt his inner pocket ripped open, and the thing--or man--was away over the planking, running fleetly and with sure steps. he knew that way! after him went chick, into the twisting, swamp-bound paths. nor did he return until long after that! chapter vii above the storms while he fought the blasts of wind that tried to twist the dragonfly out of control, climbing to get beyond their influence, don tried to decide on the best course. his ship was not equipped for navigation. no compass or radio was provided to aid him in such a difficult situation: otherwise it would have been easy to rise beyond the storm levels, to set his propeller toward some predetermined objective where he could land safely and be within reach of a hospital to care for the injured mail 'plane pilot. "but i don't know wind direction at different levels," he reflected, catching the ship as a gust of fierce wind caught the tail and swung the ship around, broadside to the wind. "i don't dare to run before the wind, because it has grown so black and we've drifted so far off by now that i might not get near the base," he added to himself. garry, in the second seat, realized how difficult the situation was for the youthful pilot. a run before the wind, he understood, might take them out over the ocean before they knew their danger: there it would be a question of time only before the gas would be exhausted. long island, with the atlantic to its east and south-east, with the broad sound along its western side and new york's bays in the south, was not the best place over which to fly "blind." the safest course, garry thought, was to go on climbing. don, without being able to exchange ideas, felt the same way. as the gusty wind got under the wings he operated his controls to right the ship; when the tail lifted, he compensated with the elevators, always climbing when he dared. rain swept in stinging sheets across the wings and into their faces, cold and stinging, making the wings heavy, but don gained slowly but surely in his fight for altitude. finally they emerged from the clouds, and soon were able to rise beyond the worst of the turbulent air. "i'll go higher," don determined. "i want to be safe from the upsweep of warm currents; they upset the ship too much." as he gained altitude, going close to the "service ceiling" or safest and highest altitude at which engine power was not dragged down too much by the lightness of air, don saw, with dismay, that a worse complication confronted him. the storms they had overcome were not the only ones existing. after the humid, torrid day, storms were visible to the north, to the east and to the west, as far as his eyes could probe the lower strata of air. theirs would be a poor chance if he flew toward the south: although only the beginnings of turmoil lay in that direction, the sea was waiting, and don's only choice seemed to be to stay aloft as long as he could, hoping for a lull between the periods of stress, through which he could drop to a lower point, get his location and perhaps make a landing. with unexpected fury an eddying uprush of air took the dragonfly in its fierce grip, twisting and turning it, flinging the right wing high. swiftly, and with more than his usual force, don threw the stick to a position that should correct and right the ship. his heart turned cold, a sickish feeling came into his stomach. somewhere in the heart of the control cords something parted. on wingtip, the nose began to fall. instinctively, knowing that in that position the rudder functioned as an elevator, don changed the position of the stick, using the rudder bar to elevate the rudder, gunning on full power to pull up the nose. in that position, however, while the nose came up momentarily, saving them from a dive, don understood that they would very soon slip, on wingtip, sidewise, down into the turbulence below them. garry, thanking his good fortune that he had studied airplane design with don, during their work in the design and blue-print departments, acted. he knew each rib, brace, strut and cable of that ship, could picture their positions from the multitude of drawings and of blue-prints he had handled. with swift accuracy he kicked through the flooring, light and very easy to demolish. plunging his hands through the openings, bent low, he probed with hurrying fingers for the loose cables of the elevators. he found them. the tug he gave informed him that the break of the cord lay between him and don's stick. he could operate the elevators, but don could not. with the cords tautened he waggled them, shaking the ship. don turned his head. he discerned garry's bent position, realized what it meant. garry, though not a trained pilot, knew the operation of the controls and could co-operate with don. with a swift movement of the stick don began to right the ship as it started its sidewise slip. immediately garry, knowing that the elevators would then function in their proper capacity and that the rudder no longer could lift and depress the nose, worked his cables. before the ship could fall off again, garry drew the "flippers" upward. the engine, full gun, helped their effort, the ship began to surge forward, gaining flying speed in the proper horizontal course. watching the nose, his head lifted, his position cramped, the broken end of the cable in one hand and the slack of the other side held in his other fist, garry watched the ship's fore and-aft spirit level because his mission was to hold the nose on a level. don, with the customary signal of his arm, pointed straight ahead. garry agreed with his decision to maintain a level course, flying into the wind. the gas gauge showed that they had fuel to last several hours. from the other instruments it was evident that oil feed and pressure, and other necessary functions, were operating correctly. if they could fly beyond the worst of the storm area, in the time their fuel reserve gave them, they might, by dint of careful cooperation, get down without serious disaster. don looked back, pointed ahead. garry nodded. thus they flew on. don knew that garry, bent almost double, stretching his neck upward, was in a straining, difficult posture. it would be a question of his muscular ability to hold himself against the torture that must come with the unnatural pose: aching muscles could in time compel him to relax, perhaps to let go of the cable. "good old garry!" whispered don to himself. "if it's in human power to last, he will be the one to stick it out!" it was torture, as garry came to know before they ended that flight. ignorant of the drift of the wind, unaware of the real course, only able to guess at the flight direction by the position of the rising moon, don surmised that they were flying in a somewhat northerly course. ahead he saw, with thankful eyes, an edge of a cloud dispersing its fury in rain. there the flashes of celestial fire diminished in intensity. finally, with hearts that thanked a power greater than storm force, by dint of careful manipulation of signals and of controls, they made a landing in a field, amid quiet, storm-washed hills! chapter viii the haunted swamp drenched by rain, almost blinded by the incessant lightning, chick drew up on the narrow footway among the grasses that the wind swept against his face. "i'm lost!" he muttered. all around him, as far as his sight could reach in the flashes, tall, waving, unbroken marsh grass showed. "somewhere i took a wrong path," chick told himself. shivering, he stood, fumbling at the buttons of his coat. "that man who tried to make me think he was a spook, calling himself 'the thing that never was, and the man who never lived,'" he said bitterly, "tore my coat pocket." he put a hand inside his garment to estimate the damage. a great feeling of elation crowded out his momentary shudder of fear on realizing his dreadful situation. "he didn't get--the tracing!" cried chick to the storm-swept grass. he laughed in exultant delight. "that doc!" he exclaimed. "he was in such a hurry that instead of getting the tracing i had folded down on itself, he grabbed out the envelope of stamps i had in that pocket!" crowded into a long manila envelope chick always kept a loose lot of assorted postage stamps, ready to "trade" for new varieties to add to a collection he was making. in his haste the unknown--but easily guessed--adversary had caught hold of the fat envelope, crushed down as chick had pinned in the other paper. released, it had popped up. that had been his trophy. chick danced and shouted triumphantly. "he's welcome to all those bavarian and venezuelan duplicate stamps!" cried chick, making sure that the precious tracing was secure from any chance rip of the pocket allowing it to drop out, "and if he can make anything by selling a hundred cancelled american two-cent stamps, he will do better than i ever did!" he felt elated; but the distressing situation he was in came back to him and his face sobered in the glaring light of the tempest. "i see the boathouse," he told himself. "i guess i'd better go back there, and not try to get out of here in this storm." by guiding himself in the revealing light from the skies, he managed to get back to the right path, pushing through clutching clumps of the soggy, clinging grass that had hidden the way out but did not wholly conceal the way back. he had heard the dragonfly, knew it had gone up. once more sheltered he shivered in his wet clothing, but made the best of a bad condition by righting an old, rickety chair and turning up the lantern wick till it gave a better light. "now," he remarked to himself, "let's see--doc was here, and for all his denials i am sure he had taken the tracing--maybe others! i remember that i was sorting out the drawings of the new, all-metal ship, to make blue-prints in the morning. scott came in and i guess i was so excited at the prospect of guarding the airlanes that i left those drawings on the big table." there it would be easy for doc, sweeping up, to find them, to abstract any--or many. "but he might have told the truth about not 'celebrating,'" he said, thoughtfully. "he never has any money to buy big bottles of alcohol. if he had been paid by anybody for the new designs, he wouldn't have had the one i discovered. he must have been waiting for somebody else to come." he recalled the course of events that had transpired. had the "other man" come? was it he who had played ghost? chick wondered, clutching his torn, soggy coat as tightly about him as possible. not that it warmed him much; but the act was involuntary as his mind focused on the weird apparition he had seen. instinctively his eyes went to that dark, gloom-crowded corner of the hovel. in a lull of the storm he seemed to hear something gurgling, slapping, like water against pilings. it was too clear to come from the channels beyond the closed door. "i wonder--if there was a trap door--" he meditated. summoning his courage he walked over to the corner. to his surprise he discovered, in the gloom that had concealed it, an unclosed flap of the flooring, leaning back against the wall. in the dull light from the lantern it had not been noticed, against the similarly dark wall boards. "it's a trap door to steps so the boatman can get down to the dories he keeps tied under the place," chick decided. he did not care to explore the mysterious depths below, however. closing the square of flooring on the fury of the water beneath, he returned to his chair. "i know about the man who never lived, now," he told himself. "it was doc morgan. he saw i had the tracing. he told me all that made-up stuff, and then went out. he came back, over the dories, maybe, under the place, and came up the ladder, in oilskins and rubber cap and gloves. pouff! i guess that's all there was to the ghost." that made him wonder if, in some way, they might find an equally sensible explanation for the spectre that had appeared and vanished so mysteriously in the clouds. "but don flew right into that cloud!" chick objected to his own hopeful theory. "there wasn't a thing there." he sat, shivering with the chill of his wet garb, wondering how long the successively approaching storms would continue. long hours seemed to pass. chick got up, exercised, flailed his arms and did gymnastic exercises to promote circulation. nevertheless, time dragged slowly. the intensity of the storm lessened: lightning came more fitfully, rain ceased, thunder grumbled and ceased to crash, dying away in the south. chick went to the door, looking out. "there are stars," he observed the bright sparks showing through the drifting, scattering shreds of the tempest, "maybe i ought to try to get home. they'll be worried about me. i wonder where don and garry landed and if they got down all right." they had, but far up the hudson. swamp life began to make itself heard--and felt. fish leaped, hungry for insects. frogs began to sing their uncanny songs. mosquitos, made ferocious by the cooling air, attacked chick in swarms. he retired to the house, closing the door, killing as many of the pests as he could. the bites decided him against a foray into the marsh paths. he had read of several cases of people, lost in marshy country, who had been dangerously bitten and infected by the swarms of nocturnal pests, swamp mosquitos. he sat down again, drawing out and spreading the map before him on his table. damp, softened, the paper was very hard to handle. he wondered, as he studied it, why doc had chosen that special one, if it was all he had taken. "it doesn't show much of the real construction detail," he mused. "if i'd wanted to sell plans, i'd have taken the detail drawings--the new pontoon design, the special tail construction plans, the details of the way the plates would fit together for strength and lightness. oh, well, maybe doc took what first came to hand and was looking it over--with his bottle to help him think it was valuable!" he looked up, startled. "was that a step?" he asked himself, straining his ears. with instinctive caution he slipped the curled paper back into his coat, buttoning its loose buttons across his chest. a low, hollow thumping came to his tense ears. "what's that?" he wondered. "where is it coming from?" he kept mouse-still, listening. "it's--at the door!" his heart was in his throat. "has doc come back?" he watched the door. something--or someone--was fumbling at the latch, striking knuckles against the wood. in spite of his earlier assurance that the supposed spook had been only a man made horrible by light and queer clothing, chick felt a chill strike to his marrow. the latch clicked. slowly the door began to open. with wide--staring eyes--chick fixed his gaze on the widening crack. he jumped. with a slam the door came inward, banging against the inner boards. in the dark square--there was nothing visible. he summoned his wit and by sheer force of will made himself run to the door. he looked out. the path, the planking, the platform on which the house stood, were devoid of sign of human life. he ran back, closing the door. he dragged the table against it, bracing it against another strange attack. he stood over the trap door to prevent its uncanny opening without warning. then the lantern flame flared up, guttered--went out! a sound, half squeal, half groan, assailed chick's ears as he cowered in the dark hovel. he realized at once what it was. pushing the table across the floor, the door was being opened. chapter ix one mystery--or two? slowly the table grated back across the floor of the hut. then, to chick's intense relief, a cheerful voice hailed him. "ahoy, the boathouse! who's in there?" "it's--chick--chickering----" "gosh-a-mighty!" chick sensed a familiar ring in the exclamation. "in the name of all-possessed! what are you doing in my boathouse?" the door thrust the table back, a dark form showed in the rays of the moon that peered from the edge of scattering clouds, and chick, with a great sense of relief, recognized that his newest companion was toby tew, who operated a small motion picture "palace" in winter and eked out a meager living by renting dories to crabbing parties in the summer. "show a light!" he ordered chick. "what made you blow out the lantern?" "i didn't. it went out." chick clutched the arm of the big man in his heavy oilskins as he thrilled to the touch of human contact. "mr. tew, did you see anything--hear anything?" the other laughed. "sort of spooky, hey? no. i guess i was part of the ghost, and your excitement furnished the balance. i saw a light when i started down channel to see to my dories after the blow. 'a light!' thinks i, 'that's a how-dy-do!' so i pushed the door open, and got out of range, case it was some bootlegger run in out o' the blow. i heard you coming out so i dodged across and got behind a spile. thinks i, 'i don't want any bootlegger to bore me. if he wants to shelter in my boathouse, let him,' thinks i, 'but i won't try collecting rent--not in the kind of lead the bootleggers uses to pay their taxes!'" "i'm glad it was you," chick said, and on toby's earnest question as to his reason for being there, chick spoke in fullest confidence. he knew toby tew, as did all the youths of port washington and its vicinity, knew him for a kindly, good-humored, open-handed man. no parent was ever visited because prankish youths "borrowed" dories and returned them with am oar missing. no party of boys lacking funds had to forego crabbing expeditions as long as toby had spare dories not in demand for pay. any winter evening there were plenty of spare seats at the picture theatre for young men who wanted amusement but were out of pocket money--and they always paid when they could! "um! gosh-a-mighty!" exclaimed the boatman-picture exhibitor, when chick had related the suggestions of scott, the ensuing flight, the coming of the mail 'plane, the spectre visitation and its vanishment, and the events that had followed, "in the name of all--possessed! you don't say! doc!--why, doc never stole in his life!" "somebody had to bring those designs here," chick maintained. "doc was here when i came," he gestured toward the bottle and the upset condition of the hut, revealed by the refilled lantern; toby, who had made a foray on his reserve can of kerosine for the lantern, set the utensil in its place. "doc never done that! gosh-a-mighty! i've known that fellow for a lifetime, almost! in the name of all-possessed, though, who would of come up through my trap door with oilskins and green rubber gloves and a bathing cap on? and what for? and doc did say he saw the same----" "it's easy to say you 'saw' something if you mean to 'be it,'" chick explained. but toby shook his head. "he wouldn't go that far to try to throw a scare into you," he remonstrated. "and doe seldom uses alcohol. more'n that, there's some mighty funny goings-on around this marsh, of late--mighty funny." "i know it!" chick agreed. "that spooky airplane and then the two ghosts crashing together--scott said some old-timer around the marsh had seen it and remembered about a crack-up years ago and thinks it's the ghost of the pilot who caused the smash, unable to rest, haunting the place; and--from what we saw--i begin to wonder." "not me. gosh-a-mighty, son, there's a whole heap of easier ways to account for it than that. supposing the airport beacon was lit, say--flashing around. supposing your airplane was to fly across that ray just when it came onto a cloud. how about the shadow?" "don showed how that could be, when he came in," chick agreed, "but that won't account for the crash of two airplanes." "but if scott had took up the dart--in the name of all-possessed!" sitting in the chair the boatman slapped his knee. "that's what it was. the dart flew one way. you was going another." he paused to emphasize his next words. "the two shadows showed, coming together!----" "that won't explain it," chick interrupted. "the airplanes were of the old style--like the war jennies, or old-style biplanes." "in that queer light, and with your minds keyed up to expect something----" "but how would it help if that did explain the spook tonight? we weren't flying around the other times!" chick was unconvinced. "that's so!" toby rubbed his chin. "besides, how does that work in with this about the mysterious airplane design being found here. let's have a look, what do you say?" chick uncurled the soggy paper, carefully, on the table. "in the name of all-possessed! nobody'd steal that! it don't mean a thing, does it?" "well--only the general body design and strut placement. and i don't see why they sketched in wings and control surfaces, on a structural skeleton." chick was puzzled. "hum! you know more about that than i would. son, it's a mystery!" "is it one mystery--or two?" very soberly chick looked up. "do you see how taking this tracing fits in with the spectre in the sky?" as toby shook his head and bent again over the tracery, chick went on, in the yellow lantern light. "we thought the haunting might be by some enemy of don's uncle, to ruin the airport business," he argued. "if that is so, then this about the tracing is a different mystery." "gosh-a-mighty! you're smart for your age!" toby looked up admiringly. "now, then, what reason would you say made anybody want to take this--" he put a stubby finger on the tracing, looking up with a curious intensity in his gaze that surprised and startled chick a little. "i--i guess i give that up." "i guess you'll have to! son--look at this thing. hold it up to the light!" astonished, chick did so. "notice anything odd about it?" "some of the ink has run----" "that's part of it, son. the part that has run is----" "wait!" cried chick, thrilling with a discovery. "the wings and the struts, and some of the 'empennage'--the tail assembly--is done in india waterproof ink!----" "not alone that." toby became very serious. "that's no design of an airplane, my lad. that's--but, here! gosh-a-mighty! i'm forgetting that you're sopping wet and cold, and the folks at home will be having a search party out after you. let's get my dory and i'll row you down to the 'base.'" he caught up the lantern as chick picked up the tracing. "wait!" begged chick. "if it isn't an airplane--what is it?" lantern in hand, toby turned to him. "it's the hull of an old-time sailing brig!" he declared. and with that he added a third mystery--or didn't he? chapter x a charm to clip ghost wings landing flares dropped by garry were still burning as don cut the ignition of the dragonfly. from a house adjoining the field they were in, a farmer came running to the airplane. "where are we?" don called eagerly. "is there a place near where they can take care of this pilot?" cried garry. "he's hurt--we don't know how badly." the farmer came closer. "hurt, eh!" he attended to the more important question first. "i don't know of any place for miles where you could take him. but i can telephone old ti-o-ga. he's an indian. lives a few miles back from the hudson. everybody knows him. he's a kind of 'medicine man' and he's a wonder with broken bones." he turned, informing don, over his shoulder, that the field was a few miles beyond catskill, a town in the hudson river valley. the pilot, his senses recovered, but suffering, spoke up. "old ti-o-ga? why, yes. get him. i've heard of him."[ ] "go with the gentleman, garry," don suggested. "when he has done his telephoning he may let you get the airport and tell uncle bruce what has happened to us." garry went away while don remained with the pilot, keeping his flares going for light and on the chance that a passing automobile on the adjacent road might stop and go for a physician. don was not deeply impressed by the offer of indian aid. garry returned very quickly. "i got the airport," he told his chum. "they were worried about us, and of course your uncle feels badly because we still have the mail." "i'm going to signal a passing car," don said. "if i can get the driver to take me to some place where i can get fuel, i'll fly back." "i'll stay with the pilot," garry volunteered. don had no trouble in inducing a motorist to give him a "lift" to a garage at some distance. ti-o-ga came in a car while don was gone. old, but straight and sturdy, the indian surprised garry: he arrived in a ford, wore american clothes and, if reticent, spoke to the point. "drink!" he ordered the pilot, offering a small cup of liquid taken from the car. the pilot, putting the liquid down his throat, sat in his cockpit quietly for a moment. "say!" he exclaimed, "that's great stuff, big chief!" "you feel like walk?" helped out, with some muttered exclamations as his limp arm was put to a strain, the man admitted that he felt much stronger. "i take you to house. strip! find what is wrong." the pilot, assisted by the farmer and by garry, made slow but steady progress to the farmhouse. there, while he waited, the indian gave garry a steady, and very curious observation. the youth began to feel uncomfortable. he had a feeling as though those bleak, steady eyes were boring through him. he shifted uneasily. "i be done soon," ti-o-ga remarked, rising at the call of "ready" and moving toward the next room where the pilot had been prepared for an examination, "then you tell me all troubles." "how did you know i had troubles?" garry was amazed. "i have--but how did you know that?" "i be back." garry sat quietly in the small, cozy living room, waiting. in a surprisingly short time the indian returned with the farmer. "chief ti," the farm owner remarked to garry, "chief ti is a wonder. he's got the man's arm set--not a bad fracture, he says. no internal injuries, and what he gave that chap to take will put him on his feet in short order. ti's a wizard at doctoring." "he said i had troubles," garry exclaimed. "how did he know?" "don't ask me," the farmer retorted, smiling. "old ti is a queer one and he can read people the way you'd read a book. can't explain how he does it; but i can see he's taken a liking to you--and just take my advice, buddy, and let him do what he wants, answer all his questions, and don't argue about his ways. he's indian--but they say he is the closest thing to a real magician this side of the world. he showed me some things, once, like the hindu fakirs do--creepy, but interesting." the indian beckoned to garry. "you come," he said, "i give you charm." "a charm!" garry repeated. "what for?--" then, recalling the advice just given him, he rose and followed the tall, dark figure. "i thank you, i mean to say--but i don't see how you know----" "i know." that was the end of the conversation. garry, at the other's sign, climbed into the old ford beside the driving seat which ti occupied. rapidly, skilfully, he was driven into the back country. the ride was very short, it seamed. good speed and clever handling of the wheel on a road free from traffic helped. "well," garry mused, "this is a queer business. first we try to guard the airlanes and see a spook crash in the sky; then we get lost and have to set down at the very best place--from the way that pilot was handled. now i'm bound for some indian tepee, i guess--to get a charm. for what? how does he know anything, and what does old ti know?" he soon discovered. "this is my house." the car stopped in front of a small, but neat frame building, a cottage whose windows gave out cheerful light. garry, accustomed to stories of frontier indians, gazed in astonishment as he was ushered into a neat, well-furnished living room with a telephone in one corner. at a wave of the slim, gnarled hand he sat down, quiet and mystified. from a rear room a woman, not altogether indian, and very pretty in a bold, strong-featured way, brought in cold meat, bread and cocoa which she put on a handy table. invited to eat, garry realized how ravenous he was and attacked the food with good will. "you like rest?" the indian asked when the girl, probably a daughter, removed the dishes and cups. "i'd rather go back and help my chum." "he not back yet. rest! you sleep, huh?" garry shook his head; but a drowsiness seemed to be creeping over him; his muscles felt heavy and inert; he struggled with the increasing desire to sleep, feeling some uneasiness as the steady eyes held without blinking, watching him intently. he relaxed, and began to dream an uneasy, garbled mass of disconnected flashes. he felt as though he drifted above a dark, dismal swamp and he saw again that spectral ship flying toward him. the dream altered. he seemed to be watching chick, in some dim light, examining a scroll or roll of paper-thin, almost transparent. soon he awoke. "i didn't mean to drop off--excuse me," he mumbled. then his faculties asserted themselves. he sat up, alertly. the indian!--had he put something in the cocoa? had he used the same methods garry had seen in stage demonstrations, to get a person into a helpless state in which they did as they were told and answered questions in a dreamy, far-away fashion? he looked around. through an open door he saw the tall, red-skinned man putting some objects into a small, dark-looking little pouch. the strings of its mouth he drew together as he returned to nod pleasantly at garry. "feel all good?" he asked. garry nodded. "i----" the man did not allow him to go on. "you troubled by ghost in the sky," he said. "you not think right answer about why! you take this." he held out the small pouch, several inches long, a little more in depth, apparently filled with some unrevealed contents, its string of rawhide tightly knotted to hold the mouth puckered, and a small, very odd wax seal in red, showing a swastika-cross, covering the top. "take," he repeated. garry held out his hand, hesitatingly, lost in wonder that the man knew about the spectral visitations that mystified the airlane guard. "hear, now. put over head." he gestured. garry, widening the strings, slipped the pouch over his head. "keep inside coat. go home. put in box for seven day! not touch! then--open!" "why?" demanded garry, surprised but suspicious. "why! that is good charm, boy! you worry about ghost wings." he made a clutching motion of fingers and thumb, as though wielding a pair of scissors. "you see ghost wings! i make charm to clip ghost wing!" garry, puzzled, stared; but the man tapped on the table, a slim, dark youth entered. ti-o-ga said "goodbye" and before he could muster any comment, garry was ushered to the car, the young indian took the wheel and, fingering his pouch, tucked inside his clothes, garry rode away. "a charm," he muttered, "a charm--to clip ghost wings! hope it works!" ----- footnote : while the name is necessarily changed, there lives, in the hudson river valley an aged indian "medicine man" whose herbal remedies and other curative methods are famous over a wide area: his "magic" is less widely known, but is in line with the possession of certain secrets of nature and of mental ability of a high order and amazed the youth by his businesslike and plainly successful methods. chapter xi the charm seems to work when don and garry, leaving the pilot to mend his bones and recuperate in the farmhouse, brought the mail down, they found chick fairly bursting with his adventures. his story had other interested listeners besides the youthful pilot and garry. doc morgan sat beside don, toby tew occupied a chair by the designing room table, and the airport owner, bruce mcleod, shared a wall bench with the control room operator, a close-mouthed, black-eyed man who was none too well-liked by the personnel of the new venture. everyone gave close attention while chick related his adventures. "in the name of all-possessed!" exclaimed toby, "if that was put in a movie, i'd be able to pack the palace when i showed it. i didn't hear all that, last night, chick-o!" "i was too excited to remember all the details," chick responded. he turned to garry. "you and don got lost, didn't you?" don nodded, smiling. "garry had all the adventures," he said. pressed for his story, garry told about the indian, his strange insight into the youth's mind, what he did, and what he gave. "i claim you ought to put that in your movie, i do," doc told toby. "i know old ti well. he learned me, he did, all i know about herb doctoring." "i went up there, not long since," toby stated. "wanted to hire him to make a 'personal appearance' on the stage of the palace with a film that was made up catskill way, with him in it. couldn't make any deal with him, though. but--gosh-a-mighty! think of him mesmerizing garry! in the name of all-thunderation! that's queer!" "it isn't any more queer than the chart--the tracing you say is a drawing of an old-time brigantine," declared don. "let's see that, now." chick went to the filing cabinets devoted to storage of accepted design tracings, hunted through a folder, kept under lock and key, and put the tracing on the table. an exclamation caused them all to turn. the control room operator was staring, astonished and pleased: he leaped to his feet. "so that's what you found!" he exclaimed, moving quickly forward. "brigantine-nothing! that's a sketch i--er--mislaid. i guess it got mixed up with the regular stuff and was brought in here--but how did it get to the swamps?" chick watched him with narrowed eyes. "a sketch," chick thought. "oh, yes! part of it in faded ink and part of it in india waterproof ink, the sort they use here!" he did not voice his suspicion. it came to his mind that the control room man would bear watching. through him, chick decided, they might get some clue to the mysteries they had encountered. "before i touch it," the man continued, "mr. mcleod, just take a look at the lower, left-hand corner and see if my initials are put in the angle of what is meant to be the bow of a new-shaped fuselage." "yes," admitted the airport manager, with a glance at the sketch. "j. v.--john vance. take it, and let's get out of here so the boys can go to work. they'll be paid by the aircraft company, and it's a good thing. they'll be paid! if any more trouble comes to our airport, i guess doc, and scott, won't draw any pay checks." scott, coming in from the adjoining office, laughed. "i'll 'haunt you' if i don't!" he chuckled. "i wish we could solve the mysteries!" garry spoke earnestly: he felt sorry for the harassed man who had put all his available capital into the new airport, who had enlisted his friends' savings in the swamp draining and expansion project. the engineers, garry knew, had been "called off" and their activity in the marsh had been stopped. it was of no use to add further expense, increase available runways or hangars. "solve the mystery of how i am going to meet unpaid bills," growled bruce mcleod. "you'll please me enough if you do that!" "uncle," don jumped from his seat on the table edge, "it was partly my fault that the mail was held back all night---" "oh--no!" the older man shook his head. "it was, in a way!" don insisted. "i should have flown straight here and tried to beat the storm, but i prevented the mail from coming in by going above the storm and getting lost. won't the steamship company give us another trial?" "i don't know. haven't bothered them." "why not try again?" garry suggested. "all pioneer work has to fail before it succeeds. they ought to let you have another chance." "i suppose they would." "see!" urged don, "scott could meet the ship. he'd never dive for any ghost," with a grin. "he likes spooks!" "i'd like to bring in the ocean mail, too," scott agreed. "well----" "you're elected!" chick exulted. "it's as good as done. and with, the chart tracing identified and claimed, it doesn't make any difference how it got into the old boathouse. maybe i ought to apologize to doc for accusing him. i do! i jumped to the notion he had taken it but he is proved innocent because he wasn't anywhere near the control room--and we don't know but what the paper blew out a window and was picked up by some visitor to the airport who went on a crabbing trip and put the paper down there by chance." chick felt that his explanation was rather lame, but he made it in an attempt to show doc morgan that he was no longer suspected of being a traitor to his employers. for some strange reason it began to seem as though the indian's mysterious pouch had some virtue. at any rate, everything became quiet around the airport. the seventh day arrived, and on its night the chums watched the dark skies without reward. no apparition of an airplane appeared: no pair of phantom ships materialized to enact their collision and disappear. with the spectre of the skies inactive, the rest of the mysteries also dropped into the background of attention. don was busy with his work on the tracings for the all-metal airplane which he was helping scott to create. garry studied airplane design while he prepared and photographed the multitudes of blue-prints that had to be made for each new model the aircraft corporation planned to try out. chick was kept fully occupied: tabulating, filing and procuring for the builders such blue-prints as they required, engaged his whole time. his amateurish effort to watch the control room man had brought no fruit: after a day or two chick had given up that activity. "well," remarked don, as the trio stood on the control tower balcony, about to leave after a futile vigil, with no developments to report, "the seventh night has come, friday, the thirteenth is almost past--and we can----" "your uncle wants to see you--right away!" doc morgan interrupted. "what's the matter?" "scott was to fly out to meet the _caledonia_--to pick up the mail and fly it in! scott's been hurt by a prop that flew off its hub----" three excited faces turned to the stairway. "he might want you to fly the mail!" cried chick. "i hope he does!" garry told don. "what a chance!" don kept his hope unvoiced. but he did hope! unaware that their excitement made them join don to answer a summons not meant for them, chick and garry were at don's heels when he entered his uncle's private office. "what a break!" the harassed airport executive grumbled. "i took your suggestion, as you know, don. the _caledonia_ is bringing special mail pouches from liverpool. scott was warming up the dart. just when we need the ship and the pilot most--the propeller hub loosened, the casting broke or it wanted oil and burned out. whatever happened, scott's out of the running, and so is the dart. i sent for you----" "mr. mcleod!" chick broke in, forgetting manners in his excitement, "we went over the dragonfly today! she's in apple pie order. can't don take her aloft? can't he fly the mail?" "can you?" the man turned to his nephew. "i can--but how does scott pick up the mail?" the maneuver was explained to him. "can't garry and chick go along?" begged don, generously including his comrades. "they could help a lot, and maybe make up by helping me for the slower speed of the dragonfly." it was arranged. eager, excited, with a possible contract for mail flying at stake, three earnest airlane enthusiasts got their flying togs and necessary articles from the disabled dart, signal lights to identity the new ship, warmed up the dragonfly, and were ready to take off. "i'll radio the _caledonia_ about the change," mr. mcleod said. "now--boys--do your best--and be--careful!" "oh, we will!" chick waved a hand from the cockpit. "anyhow--we've got to come through. we carry a charm to clip ghost wings, you know!" chick always boasted a trifle too early! chapter xii don flies the mail taking off into the july south-wind, don waited only long enough to observe the regulation compelling an airplane to be well beyond the airport limits before turning. then he began a turning climb to nose into the east, crossing long island. although their course did not take them near the swamps which had been so closely connected with their mystery--or mysteries!--don glanced in that direction. garry, behind him, busy adjusting the tube of the student's communication helmet by which he could talk to don, did not see what the pilot noted. don shook the ship gently. garry looked up. chick, behind them, getting a life belt inflated from an air bottle, because this would be a part of the mail flight requiring him to run a slight risk of immersion in the sea, looked up at the same time. don's hand, waved toward the swamps at the left wingtip, as they came around, saw a curious object over the swamps. they were too far away to note it with much certainty; but garry was sure that the queer, ungainly thing rising steadily into the air was one of the aircraft whose horizontal blades, above the fuselage, enabled it to take off and rise without first attaining the flying speed required by an ordinary airplane. its huge propeller blades acted both as power and support surfaces. "an auto-gyro," garry said into the helmet communication tube. don shook his head. "what did you tell him?" chick bent far forward to shout to garry. "said it was an auto-gyro!" "no!" chick had sharp eyes. "it isn't the modern kind, anyhow. it's what they call a 'helicopter,' garry." garry looked a second time, carefully. "chick's right," he murmured to don. "he says it's a helicopter--it has the lifting blades that let it rise straight upward and then it has a 'tractor' propeller forward that sends it through the air horizontally. it can go higher by giving the horizontal blades more speed, stay almost stationary by adjusting speed, or settle lower by slowing the blades. the tractor prop gives it forward speed. chick's right." don nodded. that had been the reason he shook his head, to correct garry's terminology, because all the more modern auto-gyros he had seen employed an adjustable-angle horizontal set of blades for both upward and forward speed, and had refined the tractor propeller at the nose. "but what is a helicopter doing over the swamp?" he wondered, "and where did it come from?" with a meeting arranged between the amphibian dragonfly and the big trans-atlantic liner, there was no time to investigate. "does that helicopter have anything to do with the mystery?" garry spoke through the gossport tube. don could not give an answer. "it might," garry continued. "only i don't see just how. the spook ships we saw come together in the sky were old-fashioned biplanes. they weren't real, either, because you flew right into the cloud, don." the pilot nodded. their speed rapidly took them eastward, and away from the swamp; but as he set his course, bearing slightly north, crossing one of the island's flying fields at a good altitude and with barren island's new bennett field back of the right wing's trailing edge, he puzzled his brain a great deal about that strange ship rising from the swamps. why was it there at all? had it been forced to settle there? or--did someone keep it there? if so, he thought, for what purpose? "with the airport so handy, nobody would store a helicopter anywhere in a mucky swamp," he decided. "it must have been a compulsory landing." with the lights of coney island, far to the right, and of long beach, and the rockaways showing their summer activities more nearly under the trucks, don nosed out over the sea. there he opened the throttle almost full-gun. they must meet the liner as far out as possible. the fuel supply had been calculated to take them a hundred and thirty miles out and back with the essential safety reserve; don had a notion to stretch that distance a trifle, because every mile the airplane saved the ship before the return would mean that much more rapidity in bringing in the mail. many ships came up over the horizon, were passed, and receded behind the tail. chick's sharp eyes first discerned the special signal carried for the occasion by the liner they sought to meet. "good work," garry commended as chick poked him three times and indicated the tiny trio of white lights set above a blue one on the masthead of the approaching boat, just coming up, it seemed, over the horizon line. he gave don the position. the youthful pilot shifted rudder and altered the course somewhat, gunning up to full speed. "we will meet her ten miles further out then we expected to," he murmured, pleased. that would mean faster time back for ten miles more of the distance from shore, and ten miles at their speed as contrasted to ten miles at the liner's best, compensated for the difference in rapidity of flight between the dragonfly and the faster dart that could not make the flight. they bade fair to establish a mail ship-to-shore record. chick sent over the flash-rocket that signalized their approach. the vessel's searchlight leaped to life, probed for and touched their wings, darting swiftly aside to avoid blinding the pilot. the liner came on at full speed. don dropped the nose, cut the gun and approached at an angle calculated to bring down the amphibian to the water at a point near, to one side of, and just ahead of the course the liner pursued. the vessel's lights looked beautiful, seen from the air. chick and garry thrilled to the wonderful spectacle. don's elation came more from the precision movements with which the mail pouches, buoyed with a self-igniting water flare on the buoy, went over side in the glare of the liner's searchlight. calculated with skill, favored by good control, don's line of descent set the amphibian's pontoons on the fairly smooth sea in a line that sent the liner sweeping by his wingtip with not a dozen yards to spare. tossing by in her wake, the buoyed pouches, accentuated by their marking light, were in a direct line with the airplane's course. garry motioned to chick. his part was to clamber to the strut, cling to a bracing wire, catch up the light buoy. garry's office was that of observer, to align don's maneuvers with chick's activity. don had done well, so far: garry would give him all the aid he could to complete the maneuver. seeing them safely past, though shaken by the ship's turbulent wake, the man at the searchlight swung it onto their tail, to give chick all the light possible. chick saw the buoy bobbing closer. "a point to the right, don!" garry called into his tube. "he can't quite reach--that's better!" an instant later he spoke again. "cut the gun, don!" the dragonfly, skittering along on the top of the moiling wake began to settle into it, more shaken than before by the immersion into a swirl of cross-currents; but the instant of delayed speed was all that chick required. his outreaching hand stretched on straining muscles. fingers alert and agile gripped the rope bound around the buoy. "full-gun, don!" up, and out of the danger of an upset, with engine roaring, they rose. chick, clinging to the mail pouches, held on. garry, stretching out his arm, as chick swung inboard, caught the buoy and gave chick the use of both hands to cling in the increasing blast of air caused by the climb. almost, for an instant, chick's heart fell into his flying boots: spray-wet, a wire slipped in his grasp! "cut!" garry called to don. leveled, with power reduced, the ship, for an instant, lost its climb and barely held safe margins of forward momentum. in that instant chick mended his grip, catching a strut. with the mail pouches drawn to the cockpit floor, with garry, his hands free, aiding, chick got quickly and safely back to his place. "oh-kay!" he shrilled, delightedly, as he snapped on his safety belt. gunning up at garry's relayed signal, don made his climbing turn. they were pointing straight for the airport when he revved up to his full power. the mail flight would be a success. all they had to do was to fly straight, top speed, set down and be applauded. they need not cross the swamps of so much mystery and fear. they could come in from the east, landing sidewise to the wind. don flew the distance to the point where they sighted the airport with his heart singing to the tune of singing wires, laughing with the purr of the motor. the successful termination of the mail flight was in sight. then the mystery helicopter struck! chapter xiii war maneuvers intent on getting their mail pouch to the airport in record time, the eyes of don, garry and chick, in the dragonfly, were peering forward and downward to locate the wind-cone, get wind direction and save every precious second even during the approach to the runway. unexpected, startling, disconcerting, there came, not a hundred feet in front of the nose, the roaring hiss of a rocket rising to burst, in a brilliant, eye-stunning flash of vivid white just ahead. don instinctively side-slipped. the flash, coming without warning, upset his self-control, made him think that he might be plunging his chums into some unseen danger. to speed into that area of still blazing fire was unthinkable. don's side-slip got the ship away fifty feet: then he caught the wings, brought the ship to its forward, level flight. roaring upward, a second messenger of terror, with its blazing tail, seemed to be coming straight under the right wing. garry, seeing it, screamed a warning into the helmet communication tube. "don--one's coming--bank left!" don kicked rudder, moving the stick to tip the wings. he gunned up, in the bank. the ship swung, almost on wingtip. again almost ahead of the new swing, came that terror from below. don saw it. he skidded out of the turn by giving excess rudder, caught the skid, and swiftly adjusted stick and bar to get on a level keel. his quick wit told him that they were almost exactly at the altitude where those deadly fireworks were bursting. in their excited, upset state all three youths supposed the rockets were the result of some sort of celebration. the real meaning did not occur to them. one thing they all realized was that they were over an area of the utmost danger: no mind could foresee the track of bomb or rocket. "they don't see us, don't know we're up here!" chick muttered as don planned his next moves with quick and cool precision. don had regained his self-control. "i'll dive, to get away with the greatest speed!" don had decided. nose down, engine full speed, he dived. the needle of the altimeter began to hasten its backward swing. a brilliant shaft of white struck upward, picking them out, throwing up around them a sea of vivid illumination. instantly don changed his tactics. to level off, as he intended, to come out of the dive with still a fair margin of altitude to give him ease of handling well above earth was impossible. the searchlight might prevent him from seeing the ground, might blind him. he was plunging straight down toward it. full-gun, he drew back on the stick. up tipped the nose. wires sang with the fierce wind. the ship trembled. at nearly two hundred miles an hour the ship began to climb in the huge arc of a "loop." don had purpose behind his shift of plan. while he had never executed it in darkness, he recalled the maneuver known as an immelmann turn, said to have been devised by a german war ace, by which altitude above an adversary was gained swiftly, with a change of flying direction. as the ship soared on its vast curve, it came, soon, to the top of the loop. it was precisely "on its back," upside down. the controls were heavy, inert in response. had he maintained control elements in the same position the engine should have carried the ship, with its speed almost nil, just to the point where the nose would have dropped by engine weight, acted on by gravity. then, going down on the descending side of the wide arc, it could be caught, at the bottom of the loop, leveled, and sent onward. don did not delay for that to happen. instead he shifted the stick far to the side, holding it there. before the nose dropped, the slight forward speed enabled the ailerons to act: the wing dropped, the other came up, and since don held the slick steady, the ship, from being on its back, executed half of a "barrel roll," so that it was right side up, and, naturally, at the top of a big circle, pointing its nose exactly backward from its original direction. quickly don caught the ship's wings as it turned on its fore-an-aft axis. thus he had climbed to the top of a big loop, had turned the ship from being upside down to the correct flying position, facing back on the course. he kept the throttle full open, flying level for an instant. they were looking away from the search-lamp. its beams no longer menaced don's clear vision. besides, being so much higher, the rays were spread, diffused. but they were going back, and for all that don knew, the force of rockets might still enable the missiles to reach them. he knew, with sureness, that no chance celebration accounted for the rockets, by that beam of light coming up at them from a spot where no searchlight should have been! he wanted to be doubly safe, to return to the proper course. he began, almost immediately, a banked turn, at the same time going upward. in that climbing turn they both gained altitude and returned gradually to the proper course. chick clamped his gauntleted hands. "good work!" he screamed in shrill elation. garry, too, commended, his voice more subdued as he realized that his tones went through a tube directly into ear outlets clamped close to the young pilot's head. "fine, don!" he complimented the flyer. don nodded his appreciation. his face, though, was still creased with lines of concern. "that's somebody with a deadly purpose!" he murmured. "no fireworks were being sent up for fun. they were meant to upset us. who could be so mean? where did that searchlight beam come from? the airport? i was too excited to be able to trace it--right in my eyes, the way it was." he peered over the side: the rays were gone. the nose was coming toward its proper point. don adjusted his controls. they had first made a great circle, outward from its center, and upward in its arc. then they had continued to climb, but in an arc that was on a different plane. it took them far out over the swamp. garry, sighting the airport, saw that don brought the nose to its proper line with the revolving beacon as the beam flicked past in its blinking circuit of the skies. chick, staring, with neck craned, over the side, saw something far more deadly. "garry!" he yelled at the top of his capacity, "tell don--helicopter coming--up----" garry caught the call, but not its import. he followed the line of chick's pointing arm. precious seconds were thus expended. the strange, menacing craft gained an advantage in the delay of locating it and of discovering its purpose. don had to be told. then he was in such a position that the left wing hid the object of garry's excited explanation. garry, over the edge of the wing, saw that the helicopter, its horizontal blades bringing it higher, the tractor propeller drawing it forward, rose toward them on a slanting line that seemed meant to bring the odd craft up under their own ship. chick, as don altered the course to get the wing out of his line of vision, sent over a parachute flare, lighting up the scene with its white, revealing gleam. don saw their adversary. from that had come the rockets: he felt sure of it. flung out, or discharged from some outboard contrivance, their ignition powder had sent them in calculated proximity to the dragonfly--for some deadly purpose!--to put the ship out of control, no doubt! "there's a man in that cockpit!" garry told don, better able to see past the swiftly revolving horizontal blades as chick's flare turned night into day beneath them. chick, looking, saw more. "it's--it's--" he could hardly make his lips form the words. "it's the--thing that never--was--the man who never--lived!" he saw the green of the head covering, the slick, glistening, formless body in its slippery oilskins, the flicker of light reflected from shiny rubber gloves. up at them came the helicopter, its course calculated to fall on an angle that would drive them upward, or turn them away from the airport, or--if don sought to side-slip--bring them on a level with that dreadful thing at its controls. what then? in any maneuver they could execute, don wondered, what would that thing do? chapter xiv the swamp demon slow and methodical in his mental processes, garry was rather stunned by the situation the chums were confronting. don, climbing, listened for information. none came through the gossport tube. chick, alert, with an impulsive quick flash, got an inspiration. to dive meant going in line with the flight of bomb or rocket, or--if that strange thing in the helicopter really was deadly in its intent--bullets. a side-slip would be no better for them. their climb did not get them away quickly enough. perhaps the dragonfly had superior climbing ability, better maneuvering capacity; but no ship could outfly those messengers of fire--the rockets! "garry!" chick prodded his chum. the older youth turned. "tell don--a lot of barrel rolls!" garry saw the utility of the maneuver. they had already executed a half-roll, turning from upside down to level. one after another, in succession, a series of barrel rolls would get them, sidewise, away. they would lose very little altitude. best of all, the stunt would send them off in an evolution that would make it almost impossible to catch them, by angular direction of the missiles, because chick knew a variation--and gave it. "tell don--barrel rolls, and reverse rolls!" garry realized the value of chick's wit, relayed the idea. down went a wing. up went the other. over and over, the dragonfly revolved on its tail-and-nose line. three rolls followed one another. at the end of the third, don checked the ship. down went the nose. short was the dive, to gain speed. up came the nose. with the wing that had swung upward before now down, he went into a triple reverse roll. on the descent of their dive the dying flare had shown them the helicopter still climbing. its surprised occupant evidently had the large tube they saw at one side trained at a certain angle. to change it took time. don's reverse maneuver sent them almost directly underneath the ship. but there their wings were in danger. checking the ship, don began the disconcerting, but very useful stunt termed a "falling leaf," in which by alternately dropping one and then the opposite wing, the ship descended in a sort of zig-zag drop, much like the erratic course of a leaf falling from a tree. twelve hundred feet above the swamp, don leveled, and with full-gun on sent the dragonfly unerringly down-wind and straight at the runway approach lights a mile ahead. they must get the mail in, he knew. swift, at its best, the craft sped toward its goal. don cut the gun, began the approach glide. far behind, unable to keep up, or, perhaps, giving up the chase, the demon in the helicopter--human or otherwise--stayed aloft. down to the runway in a well-calculated glide don swung his ship. "hooray!" exulted chick. "don--garry--we win!" the trucks leveled with the tail. the ship lost speed. its wheels set their tires on the concrete and the ship, rumbling, ran forward. instantly don cut the gun. mr. mcleod, the control room chief, and doc morgan ran up. garry tossed out the mail pouches. "the ship-to-shore record is just tied!" cried mcleod. "don--i owe you a lot for this--and your friends, too!" "all right, uncle!" don swung about in his cockpit. "doc--mr. vance--has anything been done about the dart?" "why--ah--" doc rubbed his chin as the older executive, with the control room chief at his side, raced for the waiting car in which the mail, still in its sacks, would be rushed to the new york post office, "yes, don. they got a new prop set!" "good enough." "why?" asked garry. don had not loosened the chin strap of his helmet. he clambered hastily out of his cockpit, onto a wing, to the earth. "who'll go with me?" he cried, as garry and chick came tumbling out of their places. "garry--chick! which one?" "where? for what?" asked garry. "back to the swamp--to find that thing and make sure that it never molests any more pilots." "i will!" cried chick. "i will!" garry's words were shouted in the same instant. "no! only one can go in the two-place dart!" said don. "she's all fueled up for the flight, you know, but there aren't three places." "but--" began chick. "i need one of you for ground work," don cried. "i have a plan! two of us go aloft, fly back to the swamp. maybe we can get there before the thing has a chance to set down. maybe we can fly around until we locate it. but somebody has to stay here in the control tower!" "why?" asked garry. don spoke earnestly. "because--the control room chief took back a tracing, claiming he owned it--and because there was the beam of that searchlight on us tonight--and there isn't another searchlight that i know of near!" "oh!" garry saw light as don spoke in his clipped, alert way. "yes!" chick cried, "you think the control chief is working with the one in the helicopter--they are the ones who are trying to ruin your uncle." "yes!" don was already hurrying into the wide open hangar, where he saw several mechanicians adjusting the hub bolts on the small, swift dart. "but the chief of control has gone with your uncle!" garry objected. they were inside the hangar as don answered, putting his words in low, swift earnest sentences. "only to the car. he'll slip back here. we mustn't leave him free to signal----" "i'll stay!" chick declared. "i'll stick to him as tight as his skin, don. i'll be a part of the airlane guard--and if he signals, i'll be there--and we can get doc----" "no! trust nobody!" garry whispered. "not even doc! don't forget he was the one in the boathouse when you found the tracing." on swift feet don raced away to the men completing adjustments on the propeller assembly. "i'm taking the dart aloft," he said quickly. "come on, garry--run her out!" in ten minutes, while chick watched, and kept an eye on doc and on the control chief, who stood watching in the hangar doorway, don revved up the newly warmed engine, lifted the tailskid from the concrete, the chocks were dragged from under the wheels, and up from the runway leaped the dart, with garry, adjusting the gossport, transferred from the other craft. they would scotch the demon of the swamps--or do their best to end his unexplained but menacing career. stars twinkled in the night sky as they roared straight for the haunt of mysteries. and the demon was ready for them! chapter xv the demon's lair straight and true don sent the swift, light dart to its mark. over the swamp they had last seen the helicopter. in the half hour that had elapsed it could, of course, be far away. "but i don't believe it is," garry murmured into his gossport tube. don, listening, agreed with garry's surmise. "did you notice how that thing looked while chick's flare burned?" garry continued his conversation. "under the big, bulky body, the helicopter had two things jutting out--i think they were pontoons. they have some sort of special bracing, and shock absorbers, so it can set down on land; but i am sure that the two projections were pontoons--and that, don, tells us that the helicopter can get down on the water just as easily as a regulation amphibian." don agreed as he watched the horizon line ahead. "that thing is human," garry added. "ghosts don't set off rockets." once more don was in full agreement. they scanned the dark, silent sky around them and ahead of the nose as they approached, on swift wings, the scene of their recent struggle to escape annihilation and to get the mail in on time. "not a thing in sight!" garry checked don's decision. where had the mystery ship gone? as he asked the question, garry removed the speaking tube from his lips and bent his eyes downward, over the cockpit cowling. he searched the unrevealing water, grass and ooze of the swamp. "don!" his lips were again at the tube, "forward of the right wing, just where the fifth brace connects to the leading edge covering, i see a little light flickering. there--the wing is over it. look! in a second it will be just at the trailing edge--there it is!" don saw the flicker. as he started downward in a tight spiral, to keep close over the area and get lower, garry spoke quickly. "no, don!" he objected. "stay high, and go on away. then we will climb higher and come back." don took the ship out of the tight spiral, but turned his head inquiringly. "it might be a lure!" garry explained. don saw the logic of his chum's reasoning: if the demon, as he thought of that strange occupant of the helicopter, wished to draw them down into a trap, it--or he--would chose such a ruse. don, lifting the nose, soared away, climbing. a mile away he banked around, and returned. "there it is, again!" garry, observing, indicated the flicker. it was more vivid than the intermittent glow of marsh gas which they saw in spots where rotted vegetation gave off its luminous aura. "he is trying to lure us down, i'm sure," garry declared. adjusting the controls so that the ship, well-balanced, flew itself for a moment, don scribbled a note, passing it to garry. "i don't know," garry responded, reading and considering the communication. "it might be safe and it might not to go down. i know we can't get anywhere flying around up here; but anybody as deadly as that demon is dangerous to get close to." don hesitated. he wished to beard the deadly one in his lair, to come to close grips; he did not desire to risk garry's safety without his chum's consent. nevertheless that was what he had asked for a volunteer to help him with. garry, he knew, was cautious, not cowardly. therefore don hesitated. once more garry's steady voice came to his ears. "how about doing this?" garry asked, "let's fly away as though we hadn't seen the lure, get over the airport, and signal by blinking the flying lights. the demon can't read them that far off, and we won't be dropping flares to warn him. we can tell chick we have located our 'bad man' and he can get your uncle, with the police, to surround the marsh. then we can start sending over flares, go down, and guide the officers. they will catch the demon if he runs, and, by closing in on all the paths, he can't get away." don agreed by switching the nose quickly in the proper direction. over the control tower they made a glide. with the flying lights snapping on and off, don spelt out a signal to chick as he held the dart in a tight, banked circle. no response came, the control tower remained unresponsive. its pilot signal beam, a small spot, did not flicker on and off to spell the "o. k." don expected from his watching chum. chick, as a matter of fact, was otherwise occupied. "let's set down," garry suggested. "the demon will probably wait, hoping we will go over again and see his lure. he must have meant us harm or he wouldn't have set those rockets to strike the dragonfly." don, flashing the "must land" signal of distress with his blinking flying lights, got no response: he decided to risk approach without the signal, and finally tumbled out of the dart with garry already on the ground. leaving the dart idling, slipping chocks under the wheels, don and garry hastened into the big main hangar. it was empty, echoing, deserted. so, too, they found the upper offices. "there has been an awful 'shindy' in the designing department," garry whispered, training his finger, at the door, after flashing on the office lights. "somebody has tried to break into the locked cabinets, and there is a wastebasket turned over and a chair upset. there must have been a fight in there." don, looking, agreed. "come on!" he muttered, "something has happened here. uncle is in new york, of course. he hasn't had time to get back from delivering the mail we flew in. but where is the control room crew, and the hangar man, and doc, and--chick?" up the stairway, not replying, garry followed him. "nobody in here!" don turned a dismayed, and frightened, look on his chum, who responded with equal concern in his face. "something has happened," whispered garry. at once he became practical. "don, we can't stay here to find out what's wrong. you want to capture the demon. run down and check your fuel, while i telephone the police station and report this--and ask for help on our 'round-up.'" don raced back down the stairways. garry, rejoining him, a scant ten minutes later, was very sober. "chief wasn't at the station," he reported. "man at desk seemed to be half asleep. said the chief had been called away on a special errand. wouldn't say how soon he could get help out here. there's a mystery about all this, don. what shall we do?" "run up and leave a note for uncle," don counseled. "i'm filling the tank. if we can't get help, we'll handle this ourselves!" "how?" "i'll go aloft, fly over the swamp, locate that area, and act as if i have discovered the lure for the first time, if it is still there. "and i think the demon is waiting, sure we'll take his bait!" he added. garry scribbled an informing message for the airport owner, detailing their purpose, and what they had experienced and the condition of the airport. then he rejoined don, the chocks were removed, and as he stepped away, with a wave, don, alone, sent the dart aloft. hardly waiting to see the fleet raft begin its trip toward the scene of their many mysteries, garry hurried down to the wharf and water runway, down which the land-and-water types of craft were sent from the hangar: to one side was a landing stage for passengers from seaplanes, and at the end of that lay tied the "crash boat," a swift, electrically propelled cruising launch kept always ready in case of any mishaps to seaplanes or other craft over the bay. to clamber in, unleash the swift craft, and swing it out from the wharf with its speedy, quiet motor humming a low, soft drone, was the work of a moment for garry, whose assignment in an emergency was at the speed control of the "crash boat." the prow of the speedy vessel turned north, angling across the inlet to skirt the point of land he must turn to get to the swampy channels beyond. garry knew the channels quite well, and, in the darkness, with only a dim gleam showing from his small forward light, a double, red-and-green cruising lantern, he was able to scan the starry sky and, as he coursed along the shore, passing the mouths of inviting channels, to discern, quite low, and inland, the flying lights of don's ship. their plan was simple. don, cruising, in the air, would discover if that lure called him, tempted him to set down--perhaps to some dreadful fate. garry, in the silent-motored, and fast little "crash" launch, would follow the shore to a channel known as crab channel. down its somewhat deep and broad course he could turn inland, coming closest to the scene of their mission. then, hidden from inland eyes by tall grass, he could use a strong flashlamp to signal to don, who would be circling wide. if don saw the signal, and thus knew that garry was ready, he would put out his flying lights. then, dropping low, he would circle over the area garry must reach. with his own motive power so quiet, garry could locate easily the sharp, intermittent periods of noise as don alternately fed full-gun and gunned down. the noise, they knew, and don's low altitude, would fully occupy the attention of their quarry. don would hold his tight circle, climbing a trifle, gliding, keeping his motor alternately full-gun and still. garry, creeping in through the most available channel offshoot, could locate the object of the ruse and then, surprising him, set off a self-igniting flare, attack, and at least hold the demon, victim of the surprise, until don could set down and help make his capture certain. everything went smoothly. garry gave his signal. don's low flying lights winked to blackness. over the swamp, two hundred feet up, he cruised back toward some hidden adversary, menacing, terrible, watchful. swiftly, silently, garry's light motor impelled the "crash" launch up a channel which, with his alert ears guiding him, brought him closer and closer to the dark spot wherein, from the water level, he saw a weird sight. floating on a still, shallow pool, supported by its queerly designed pontoons, the helicopter was hardly visible in the shadowy eel grass: its horizontal blades, tilted by some device to a vertical line, made only a thin, invisible angle to the sky, although garry, from his lower point of vantage, saw the outline against a starry background. intermittently, from the cockpit, and thus concealed and throwing its beam upward only, came the periodic flickers of a handkerchief-wrapped flash torch. its intermittent, dim glow illuminated the almost shapeless form and backward-thrown head of the thing that never was, the man who never lived. tide-drifted, flare in hand, garry floated toward the demon's lair. chapter xvi chick traces the tracing seemingly unaware that chick dogged his steps, the control room chief, whose initials, j. v., had proved the baffling tracing to be his property, went from the runways to his tower quarters. doc morgan, following chick, appeared at the door to the control room a minute after the youth had seated himself unobtrusively, in a chair in a dark corner. "you might as well go home," the control room chief dismissed his assistant who turned from an observation window where he had stood scanning the sky, and taking his hat, said "goodnight." his chief, paying no attention to doc as the latter lounged in the doorway, walked to the windows and glanced in several directions towards the heavens. chick sat quite still. doc knew he was there, he saw; but doc was evidently interested in his own thoughts, and, beyond giving chick a pleasant wink, ignored his presence. vance, the control chief, assured himself that there was no immediate need for his services for landing ships. he adjusted several switches to leave the essential lighting of approaches going against don's return, and then walked over to the radio table in one corner. chick, watching, saw that the man's thoughts were far away from duty. watching unobtrusively, he saw vance lean his head on the hand supported by an elbow on the table. doc, still lounging, seemed forgotten, and appeared to be satisfied. "they are both thinking about the same thing. that's my guess," chick told himself. "doc had something to do with that tracing that turned up in a boathouse in the marsh, and mr. vance knows it. and doc knows he knows it, too! i'll sit tight and see what happens." he had no long vigil. apparently so deep in his thoughts that he forgot the others, vance sat in a brown study for a moment: chick, quick of eye, observed that the control chief was not so oblivious as he pretended. "he's watching doc," he decided. the silence was broken by doc's amused voice. "well, j. v., go ahead and unlock the drawer. you want to, you do, and you know it, you do that! well, go on. do it! i'd like to know what that sketch means, i would. let's see it again, eh?" with a start of surprise that chick sensed as "acting," the other looked around quickly. "oh! hello! what's that, doc?" "you heard me." "about the tracing, it was." "yep." "rats!" the man leaned back, arms behind his head, carelessly locking his fingers as he pretended to laugh. "doc, you're pretty interested in that, aren't you? considering where it was found----" "yes, considering where it was found--" doc repeated the words with a meaning that differed from the other man's phrase. "considering that it was supposed to be a sketch of a new design for an airplane, and i saw our young friend, chick, discover it when the wind yanked it out of a drawer--" he forgot his mannerism and spoke directly, crisply, "i wonder if you go over there to work on it in secret--eh?" the man swung around in his chair. "as likely as that you go there to hunt sea-marsh stuff for medicine," he snapped. "it was stolen from me, as a matter of fact!" he turned his eyes on doc, accusingly. "not by me, brother not by me, not it! no, sir! you got it back, anyhow, so what's the odds how it went? what is it--besides a sketch of a new aircraft?" chick became more alert, more intent: he had to hold in check his impulse to hitch forward in his chair. the answer might be interesting. the control chief laughed. "besides a drawing of an airplane--what could it be, i wonder?" "look here!" doc left the doorsill that had supported him, and took a few steps closer to the other man. "see here," he repeated, "do you recollect when the engineers were draining the swamp, and found a skeleton of some poor old codger who was supposed to be one of the old pirate band that used to hang around new york, a good many dozen years ago?" chick started. a pirate! he recalled that the local newspapers had printed several lines of historical fact, hinting that the bones found in the swamp might have been a relic of days of piracy in the harbors and bays, the sea and the sound, in and around long island and new york. suddenly something that had never before seemed of importance to him flashed across the youth's agile mind. among the piratical names important in history of activity under the skull and cross-bones, none had stood out more than that of morgan. and before him stood a man whose name was "doc" morgan! he suppressed his tendency to utter a cry of surprise at his discovery; his ears became even more intent as he held his voice and his quivering nerves in check. "oh, yes, i do recall something about the skeleton and piracy," the control chief remarked, carelessly. "well, now, you do, do you? is that so?" doc's tone was sarcastic. "do you happen to recall that pirates used to sail in brigantines, and such-like ships? yes, you do! sure, you do! and there is a story to the effect that one time an old brigantine was throwed up onto the mud, it was, in a gale, off the very swamp where that skeleton was found!" "you don't say!" "i do say!" the control chief was obviously interested. "how do you know?" "who would know better than a morgan?" chick's wriggle of excitement went unobserved. "that's so," vance remarked. "you are named the same as one of the old buccaneers, at that! say, doc--tell you the facts: "i was with the engineers when they discovered that skeleton." "i knew it all the time. so was i." "oh, yes--i recollect, you were," vance agreed, while chick listened and tried to register in his memory every look, every phrase, every intonation of the two men. there was either a fresh mystery leaping to the fore, or the explanation of many mysteries was about to come into the light. "well--" doc paused significantly. vance cried that he did not understand that hint. "if you mean that anything was found, you know as well as i do that nothing was," he finished. "no," doc argued, coming closer, but no longer sarcastic. "no, vance, nothing was found. but the finding of that skeleton, it brought out all that about the pirates, it did. yes, sir, it did that! and what's to say all the talk about the pirates didn't show somebody--who--already--had a--map-or chart--that it meant something!" "let's see it!" chick, forgetting the mission he was detailed to pursue, forgetting his former suspicions of doc or of vance, and intent only on that new topic--a mysterious, concealed map or chart, hidden among the intricate lines of a design supposed to be for an airplane, startled the two men by his exclamation. vance, wheeling, studied him a moment, evidently becoming satisfied that chick's interest was as purely on account of the new idea as was his own or that of doc. "why, sure! you've seen it, already, anyhow," the control chief conceded. "tell the truth, you two, i can't make any more of it than you did. the day that the skeleton was found, after you had all gone away, one of the engineers took me to one side, and said he had seen a queer thing when he was in the old boathouse trying to hire a dory, to get to the place where the skeleton had been discovered, and where all the excitement was centered. he had seen a half open drawer in the table there at the boathouse, and in it was a tracing paper, pretty old, and seeming to be of an airplane. it was so curious to see it there that he mentioned it and i took him in our power launch--the crash boat--to the scene of the excitement, and then cruised back to the boathouse for a look at that tracing. it was just what you've seen. well, i sat there, all alone, studying it, but i couldn't make anything out of it." he turned and began sorting keys on a bunch he drew from his trousers as he prepared to open the drawer of the radio table. "at first i thought what chick did when he first saw it. there was part of an aircraft series, stolen or mislaid and carried there by some visitor." "then what did you think, afterward!" chick asked eagerly. "i wondered, but i didn't actually decide much of anything," vance answered. "well, you know how a fellow does when he's absentminded, studying, or something--draws marks on paper!" "yes! i've seen you do that when you were in a brown study," chick agreed. "you draw--let's see--j. v." "exactly what i do!" vance agreed. "well, you two, believe it or not, while i sat there, thinking, i drew my initials on the table, and one set got on the corner of the tracing. i didn't see how it mattered, and i meant to bring the thing here anyhow. so i let them stand." "but you left it there," contended doc, "left it, you did. yet you claimed it, you did so, as yours!" "yes. i dropped it in the drawer when a hail came for me to bring the crash launch to help my boss. i wasn't control chief then, only an engineer working out angles and distances across the swamp for the airport extension," vance declared. "i forgot all about the tracing until i read in the papers about the piracy and the hints about lost treasure and all that folderol. then, when chick so kindly brought in the tracing, i recollected my initials--and there you are." chick reserved his opinion about the truth and reasonableness of the explanation. certainly it was a point in vance's favor that he was already willingly slipping a key into the table drawer. "why!--look here!" vance cried, "this drawer isn't--locked!" he dragged it open. at once chick knew, just as he saw that doc realized, that the tracing was gone. had vance made up all that story? had someone picked the lock? was that queerly disguised tracery of lines more than an airplane design? who had it? chick took no time to puzzle out answers. "never mind, for now!" he exclaimed. "i wasn't such a dummy, after all. while i had that tracing, before it got lost again i decided to make a blue-print of it. i did, too!" "good!" exclaimed vance, and doc nodded. "get it!" he urged. chick ran down the tower stairs. at their lower steps he stopped, stricken by an uneasy realization that he had completely shirked the duties laid on him by don. he was not guarding that tower, not seeing what vance did, not heeding doc. thirteen years--piracy--mysterious maps--hidden meanings--possibly buried treasure--the combination had been too much for chick. should he go back, or go on and get the blue-print? "i'd better go back," he said. "i can get the blue-print when the rest are here. maybe vance made all that up, and took advantage of what i said, just to get me off the scent, to stop me thinking about watching him. i'll go back." he turned to ascend. from the hangars came the crash of an overturned chair, or some such odd sound. on the office floor it seemed to be to chick. furiously racing along the corridor, he watched for opened doors, in the faint light of the corridor bulb at the landing. the design room door stood ajar! there he swung in, catching the jamb with a hand to expedite his turn as he reached the opening. inside all was dark, still. "who's there?" he called, and listening, heard no sound. his fingers found the light switch. the room sprang into brightness. "there's a chair upset," chick called out. "i know you're in here. come out!" silence met his demand. with quiet feet he advanced, past an overturned wastebasket, past the filing cabinets. they had been tampered with--he saw that as he passed. in a corner was a wash basin, marble, on a stand, and before it was a japanese screen to conceal those who chose to wash. tiptoeing, chick advanced close to the screen. unexpectedly it was thrust over onto him. he had half expected the maneuver, and he leaped sidewise and backward, just escaping the edge of the light frame and the entangling silk stretched over it. a tall, thin, dark-haired, reddish, copper-colored youth leaped past him. caught off balance, it took chick half a second to right himself. then he was in pursuit, screaming as he ran. the other was fleeter, longer-legged. he seemed to have prepared a plan. chick heard feet on the tower stairway, thudding down to his summons. they might intercept the escaping youth--an indian, chick felt assured at that. he was the faster of the pair, and chick, for all his best effort, could not get a grip on the flying coat. the indian swerved, in the hall, into an office. chick thought he had him cornered until the slam of intervening doors told that his adversary of the design room screen episode was out through the intersecting office suite, and had beaten him. chick ran to the fire escape at a window. down its iron rungs he went swiftly. a figure, running lightly, crossed the hangar apron of cement, got to a car. chick, putting every ounce of energy into his effort, ran, after a leap from the fire escape ladder, to try and reach the car. "this way--he's going away in a car!" chick shouted, to guide the men from the control room. then he saved his breath, his task being to get to the car before the youth could get in. it was a light, cheap make of sedan. something garry had told him seemed to come uppermost in chick's mind, some recollection; but he was too excited to pause and make sense of it. the motor roared, gears ground into mesh, the car started. chick's clutching fingers barely missed the rear tire. he fell, carried forward by his leap, and lay, prostrate. then he lifted his head as the car roared away, and when doc morgan and vance reached him, he sat up, smiling. "let's take my car!" cried vance. "come on, chick. doc, stay and take care of the place. get my assistant back to the control room!" "yes!" urged chick, running toward the control chief's bigger, faster roadster, "i remember something. garry was taken to an indian camp in that very car, and the very fellow who's getting away with blue-prints or tracing is the indian's son who drove garry back. i know the license, too. come on!" chapter xvii an aerial capture flying low, as though trying to account for the mysteriously twinkling glow from the helicopter, don watched carefully. "there's the crash boat," he murmured, as his sharp eyes made out the dark object against the sheen of the still water in a channel. "i'll 'give it the gun,' now," he decided. "the noise will drown out garry's motor hum." he opened his throttle. necessarily he drew further away. that suited their plan perfectly: it gave him distance in which to turn for his approach in a position to come down in a power-stall that would keep the engine running just fast enough to let the dart settle onto the water without too much forward speed. garry's hand was on the switch of the stopped electric motor: in the other he held his self-igniting flare. "the tide will drift me around that clump of eel grass," he told himself, "then----" don, as he saw, was banking around. "now!" garry decided that the time was at hand. don was coming in. the switch was thrown. the engine hummed, and forward drove the fast launch. above the swamp don began his approach. surprised by the sudden illumination as garry's flare lighted up the small expanse of water where the helicopter lay, the thing in the disguising oilskins and rubber face mask and cap and gloves turned to strain eyes through small cut holes. gathering speed the boat came toward his aerial chariot. with a yell that seemed to combine anger and dismay the demon swung to the momentum starter of his motor, sent its disk around feverishly. garry's boat swept alongside, the switch on and gears in reverse to drag it to a stop. don, flying in, kept his engine droning, settling toward the water. it seemed to both don and garry that their "demon" was all but a prisoner. garry cut out the switch, allowing the boat to drive close. "give up!" he shouted, to be heard above the noise of don's approach from the air. "we've got you." the disguised creature gave a shout of defiance, threw his gears for the revolution that would wake the helicopter engine to life. "it's no use!" garry cried, as don, perceiving the slow turn of the helicopter's upper blades as they were rapidly adjusted, lifted the nose and, instead of coming onto the water, stayed aloft, waiting, ready to frustrate any effort to climb away. garry's hand clutched the pontoon braces. up he leaped, clinging. don saw, in the vivid light, the unexpected thing that happened. into the water, on the far side of the helicopter, away from garry, plunged the queer creature. immediately don cut his power again and dropped the nose; but he had to bank around to get in position once more to power-stall down. watching as he executed the maneuver, he saw garry jump away from his position, half on the helicopter pontoon and half in the boat, turn as he sprang through the air, and strike water, with a flash of lighted spray, to begin swimming with strong, swift strokes, around the end of a pontoon. don lost valuable seconds, getting in approach position. when next he could look, he saw that garry was at the edge of the heavier concealing clumps of eel grass, treading water, hesitating. down came the dart. as he took the water don cut out his power instantly, to enable him to be heard. "garry!" he called, "where is he!" "hiding in the grass, i guess!" "wait!" don knew that garry could make no progress trying to swim into that clutching, restraining mesh of tangled grass blades, tall, yielding, but gripping arms and legs in any effort to pass through. "i will get in the crash boat: he's hiding. the boat will show him--it has a spotlight!" garry, treading water, listened for sounds of movement in the clump of grass, agreed. "you're captured!" he shouted to the invisible creature. "you might as well give up and save trouble." no answer came. don saw that the electric-powered boat was almost within reach as he hurriedly unclasped his safety belt, clambered onto a brace of his lightly rocking aircraft, and stretching out his arm, caught hold of the motor boat's gunwale. quickly he got in. to throw in the switch, and to light the small, but strong, spotlamp in the bow was the work of but a second. the ray probed across the water, picked out garry, treading water, close to the grass where he had seen his quarry vanish. picking up momentum to the hum of its motor, the vessel under don's steermanship moved to a point where garry could catch its coaming, and draw himself in. as he deposited his wet body in the bottom, don backed water, in a slow, curving course, so that the small craft was ready, when he cut out the gears, to be flung forward, with turning room, in any direction he chose. his hand, on the light, swung its beam to and fro, sending scattering, filtered rays through the grass. "i didn't hear him move away!" garry was up and at the bow with don as he spoke. "he must be just within the clump of grass." don drew closer, at very low speed. "listen!" garry gripped don's arm. "did you hear a shout?" "yes! far away!" they were distracted, for an instant, from the quest by the new and unexpected call coming from a distant point. "do you suppose it could be help--for us?" garry wondered. "maybe chick left the airport to get police aid." "let's wait a bit and see if the shout comes again!" don suggested. "this fellow we're after can't go far in that grass; he'd sink into a mudhole." "maybe he did, already," garry hinted. "maybe he went down and got caught in the grass." "that would account for us not seeing--" "there's the call--closer, too!" they made out the words. "sounds like chick's voice," garry whispered. he called, high and sharp, "stop!" "yes--and there's a man's shout--hear him?" "i'm sure it's help!" exclaimed garry. "but who can they be after?" "they're coming closer!" a movement of the grass caught don's attention. "there's--" he began. "no! listen!" garry put a hand on his arm, stopping his sentence. somewhere not far off, but to the right, inland, the grass clusters seemed to be agitated for a moment. don swung the boat, backing to get room, to be ready for the new position of their hidden adversary. the light swung and focused. "see anything, garry? i don't!" "no, don--and i'm sorry you backed the way you did. the helicopter is between us and the place i saw that fellow disappear----" "but----" from a point a hundred yards away came a hail "hello! you! showing a light--who are you?" "don and garry--don mcleod at the helm of the airport crash boat, trying to catch the fellow who has been haunting the swamps and the air." "don--garry!" chick's shrill, excited voice floated to them. "it's chick and the control chief! we're after an ind----" the sudden roar of the helicopter engine drowned the last syllable. don, reaching for the switch, with the other hand swung his spot beam but it would not swivel far enough to pick out the helicopter's body. "i hear somebody in the water!" gasped garry, "swing--forward, and swing, don!" the launch, in its position facing the left bank of the weed and grass-choked channel, made a difficulty of the forward swing, going too close to the grass. its propeller caught in the grass or mud. instantly don cut the ignition to avoid losing his propeller. garry fled to the stern, bent far, reached down, began disentangling the snagged part. "get him!" screeched garry, to chick as the light showed him on the bank of a portion of the more solid swamp land at the edge of which the channel ended, far across the sheet of clear water. from the helicopter there seemed to come a surprised cry, and the sounds of an altercation. there was a splash--but the helicopter went upward! don, as the propeller was cleared and garry shouted that news, did not try to pick up forward speed again. instead he gave the motor its current with gears in reverse, and backed down toward his own dart. "what are you doing that for?" "going to the dart." "but the engine is dead." "it's still warm," don retorted. "i'm going to bring down that demon." chick, shouting, appeared at the end of a path, with the control chief, and guided by doc, who knew the swamp trails. "there's somebody swimming!" he screamed. don paid no attention. "watch him!" he called, and then, as the launch came close to the dart, caught a wing and clambered into the cockpit. garry, who took the wheel, ran forward again until he could revolve the small, fast airplane's propeller: as his yell was answered by don's "contact!" he swerved aside, saw the huge blades begin to swing, heard the roar of the engine, and hastened to get his launch out of the path of the oncoming dart. swiftly gathering speed, with sharp spurts of the gun to clear his choked cylinders, don lifted his speedy ship into the air, soaring over garry's head as the latter, nosing in at the path end, took on chick. up went don, climbing in as speedy and steep a banked ascent as he dared with a recently stopped power plant to consider. he dared not force the engine until it was again at fullest, safest operating temperature. the helicopter, rising almost straight up, had an advantage. but don did not let that concern him. his teeth were tight, clenched, with determination wrinkling his eye-corners. the demon had gone too far. evidently he had meant to lure them in the airplane, only to "finish them off" in some fashion. garry's unexpected appearance in the launch had upset those purposes. the demon, taking advantage of the new chase, getting back to his craft, meant to escape, to lie hidden somewhere, ready to visit more of his menacing attacks on innocent folk. "not if i can keep my head," don muttered. swinging in his ever-ascending circles, spiraling, reversing to avoid that irksome sameness of turn which might make him dizzy, he kept going higher. he knew that once he got near the ceiling, that highest point to which an engine can carry an airplane, he would be on equal terms with the demon, because he could fly past, or execute some other maneuver, by which his propeller blast would upset control of those large top blades, cause the other ship to drop, whereupon, above it, and ever alert to guard against more deadly rockets from the improvised "gun" he saw on the ship's side, don could drive down his foe. to his surprise, before he reached the ceiling, he came level with the other ship. he saw the pilot, in the moonlight, lift a hand. instinctively don prepared to execute some dodging stunt; but all that was released was a white flare. and in its light don saw the pilot elevating both hands. it was the gesture of surrender! tamely enough the other allowed his ship to settle. like a shepherd dog circling a flock, don went down above the other. when the swamp was once more close beneath them don saw that flares were burning, that torches were lighted in various parts of the land beside the demon's lair. hardly had the pontoons of the helicopter plunged into the water before don had made his approach, easily guided by the vivid light. as he swung down, contacting the sheet of water, don saw, with surprise, that his adversary was no oilskin-cloaked miscreant. the youth stepping from the helicopter into the electric launch was coppery of skin, black of hair. no other occupied the cockpit. the launch turned, while chick and garry busied themselves with rope, binding the sullen son of ti-o-ga, the indian garry had met. "well," vance, the control chief, saluted don. "you've brought down your prisoner. wish we could say as much." "what happened?" don asked. as his engine died he listened intently. "when this indian ran away from the airport and came here," chick explained, "he must have tried to use the helicopter to get away in. but the real demon jumped out as he got in, letting you go up after the helicopter while he got away." "but how could he get away?" don remonstrated. "there's only the narrow rim of land, beyond us, on crab channel, then another water inlet." "mr. vance guarded the paths," chick admitted, "and garry picked me up and we beat the grass. i don't know how he could get away--but he is gone--and with the police to help us beat this part of the swamp--all we've found is--just nothing!" "but he--couldn't get away!" expostulated don. "couldn't he?" said garry, ruefully. "well, then--where shall we look next?" but don did not hit upon the right answer. chapter xviii a confession and the charm all that night they remained on guard. taking turns, first don in the helicopter and garry on the shore, then the control chief replacing garry and chick taking don's station, they watched. not a thing happened. the indian, sullen, refused to talk. threats did not seem to disturb him. pleas failed to move him. he realized that they had no way to enforce the threats. none of them dared to leave the swamps by the paths, taking him as a prisoner, because it had been his own familiarity with swamp trails that had led them safely through, although he refused to say why or how he had become so well informed. besides, as don argued, they dared not leave the swamp unguarded. however, they kept a close watch toward the airport. don's surmise that his uncle would return from delivering the mail, find their note and institute a search, proved to be correct. their flares being all used up in landings, however, they had no way to signal, and evidently the airport manager, deprived of scott's services, had no pilot to send aloft as a scout. early, just after dawn, however, he arrived, in a rowboat, at the mouth of crab channel, where garry had driven the electric launch on his way to summon aid. "hello!" shouted the older man, laying on his oars until the launch came up and took him in tow, "i've had the chief of police and his men busy all night, trying to get reports of any crack-up, and scouting; but they must not have come to the lower end of the swamp at all." he caught a rope flung by garry who towed his rowboat up to the scene of their all-night vigil. practical, a little sarcastic, mr. mcleod took charge. "i don't suppose it occurred to any of you that the fellow you tell about had to get here somehow, and to get away," he said. "daylight makes it clear--see those stakes with the rope?--that the helicopter has been kept here a long time. it didn't occur to you that the fellow in disguise might have come here in a dory--and left by the same means!" "no, it didn't!" admitted don. "well, boys, that's what happened." the airport executive pointed to the grass, stamped and bent down, and when they asserted that their own searching had accomplished the tell-tale destruction he smiled, led them past the clusters near the boats, further inshore, showing that grass had been pushed aside, tangled by the passage of a body, and then indicated a smaller, shallower, but practical waterway, diverging toward the south. "here are marks of a dory's nose on the mud," he explained. "you have been watching for a man who calmly sculled or drifted away." "but we couldn't see that at night," objected chick, "any more than we could see the paths out of the swamps. now, i can, though--and i'm for getting to a telephone, calling the chief of police, and letting him send a man here to see about putting this indian in a cell." the indian, not much over nineteen, became more talkative when this purpose was mentioned. "i haven't done anything really wrong!" he declared. his english, like his clothing, was good, showing education and refinement of a sort. "a year ago," he said, revealing his identity as the son of ti-o-ga, and named simply john tioga, "a year ago a film company came up to our place to make some films dealing with indian witchcraft and dances, for the prologue of a picture. father played the old 'medicine man' and i was a sort of magician-devil in the picture." "i don't see what that has to do with this," began chick. "it has," the indian youth assured him, sullenly, "because that picture has been released and shown around, and father and i have made a good sum of money, doing what theatrical people call 'personal appearances,' and showing some magical tricks, as a prologue to the film showing at different theatres." he explained the connection between that and the present situation. "a man has a picture theatre here in your nearest town," he told them. "his name is toby tew, and he came up to our place about two months ago to engage us for a personal appearance when he shows the picture. we had been disgusted with the sort of people we met in the theatres, because they were rough and ready, not bad, but not especially refined----" don smiled, thinking of such a statement coming from the race which had tomahawked and scalped in pioneer days; but reconsideration made him realize that the pioneers had slain also, and had introduced not only "fire water" but had taken away lands the indians felt were theirs. again, he reflected, the indian of culture, with a college education, was far away from his savage ancestors. "we refused to come here to 'play' our special magical show," the indian went on, "but it wasn't long after that before another man from these parts came up to the catskills--but he wanted to consult my father about some hidden or lost object--or--er--things!" "who was he?" demanded don. "called himself morgan--let's see----" "'doc' morgan?" inquired mr. mcleod. that was the name, the youth acknowledged. "what had he lost? what did he want to find? and how could your father help him locate anything?" asked garry, quietly. "you ought to remember what my father did with you," the youth challenged. "father knows a great deal about hidden forces of the mind and of nature. sometimes, if his mood is right, he can do what fortune tellers would call 'divining'--read the future, or locate articles that have been hidden or mislaid. whether he puts two-and-two together or really can see deeper than others, i won't argue with you; but he does get results. doc morgan wanted him to help him locate a lost ship, said to have been buried in mud in this swamp----" "oh--i see how everything begins to fit in!" cried garry. "somebody had a map, or chart, or plan of some ship supposed to be in this swamp. well, then, doc heard about the skeleton being found--or saw it found! he read the news hints about the possible treasure buried here." "yes--and he either found the tracing or saw it!" agreed don. "then he went to the 'medicine man,' because he told us that your father had taught him all he knew about herb medicines, john." nodding, the indian added: "but he wanted us to divine where the ship was buried, and we did our best. then--when the two young gentlemen here--" he indicated don and garry--"came there, with their injured pilot, and father learned by putting two-and-two together--or however you choose to say he did--that there was a stolen tracing of a ship, we took the contract your theatre man had offered, and i came on ahead a week ago to look over the ground and see what was what." "and what was 'what?'" demanded chick. "i can't give you that answer," the youth declared. "i've trailed the tracing, but some one took it before i could get a chance to see it. i was hiding, listening and watching, in the airport, this evening--or last night, to be correct. i heard it said that the map was gone, and i ran and hid, but the young man you call chick discovered me. i was so afraid i'd be accused of theft of the tracing i'd never seen that i lost my head and ran--and when i was chased, and saw something in a disguise going to start into the air in a helicopter, i swam to it and went up--and you know the rest." "all but this!" don said. "you were close to that fellow in the disguise. you were in the helicopter with him----" "only for a minute!" interrupted the indian youth, then he checked himself, as though a sudden idea had occurred to him. "what has struck you?" demanded the control chief. "i--" the youth hesitated, while don, chick and garry listened with a feeling that they were about to hear a revelation. "go on," don prompted. "the--er--thing was tall." "yes!" chick broke in as garry opened his lips to speak. "well, he can fly. it made me think of another tall man who could fly--and who came to consult my father when he happened to be away from home. he said he was a mail pilot, and he gave the name----" "what?" cried chick. "smith!" "oh!" garry recognized the flyer mentioned. "he flies the mail in from philadelphia. but----" "it couldn't have been smith who tried to run us down, tonight," chick remonstrated. "he's due later on, coming in from philly. he goes down friday and comes back saturday--and last night was friday night." "he comes in tonight--so he can be left out--unless he had a substitute fly for him last night," said don, suddenly wondering. they discussed it but made no progress beyond deciding to investigate the whereabouts of the mail flyer. "anyway," the indian said, "you should remember that my father gave you a charm that would prevent any harm coming to you." "that's so!" said chick. "garry has been wearing it, all week." he stared at the chum he had spoken about. garry's face was wreathed in a queer expression, half surprised, half eager. "golly-glory-gracious!" he exclaimed, "i--had forgotten." he had. "do you know?--" he turned to don. "what morning is this?" he inquired, with a grin. "saturday," chick responded for don. "yes--and what was last night?" "friday night, of course, silly!" but garry grinned more widely. the others wondered, but waited. "what has happened on four successive friday nights, around mystery airport?" he demanded. "the spook has appeared," chick volunteered. garry nodded. "and what did i get to guard us against spooks?" they remembered the small bag john's indian father had called a "charm" to clip ghost wings. "what was i to do with it?" asked garry, excitedly. "you were to wear it all the time--let's see--for seven days!" as he spoke, don caught his breath. "wear it for seven days--and then open it!" he cried. "and this is the seventh day--or last night was the seventh night after our flight!" nodding, garry produced the bag from his shirt, breaking the small cord it was attached around his neck by. "now, let's see--" he began, and tore loose the wax-sealed neck. they craned closer as he peered inside. his face dropped, then he discovered something. eagerly he extracted from the bag three yellow oblongs of thin, printed paper. "what in the world?" he cried. "i'll say!" chick stared. "a charm to clip ghost wings. three--free--passes--for--the--palace--theatre!" the indian youth smiled slightly. "my father is a clever man!" he remarked. chapter xix a clue in smoke after a somewhat disappointed study of the three yellow picture theatre passes, garry turned to the indian youth. "john," asked garry, "what do these mean? there isn't anything on them but printing. they say, 'admit bearer' and give the palace name and they are signed by the theatre manager. but there isn't any help there, unless something is written on the backs in disappearing ink." "maybe, if we heated them, or wet them, something would come out," suggested chick hopefully, "as they stand, they are just three passes." john, with a quiet smile on his copper-colored face, replied curtly: "my father is a clever man. he put this with that, and know much. you try doing that." "personally," mr. mcleod was a trifle sceptical, "i think they are part of the plot to confuse you and the rest of us. no doubt the old 'medicine man' is clever--clever enough to be involved in some way and to try to pretend that he is a helpful chap when his whole attention is to throw out a smoke screen to protect himself and--" he frowned at the young indian, "--his son." garry put them back in the skin bag, slipped it into his pocket and switched in the current to back the launch around. "you might try using those passes," the control chief suggested, as the boat moved down the channel. garry nodded. "we will," he agreed. with the ignition key and a carburetor needle and float removed, the helicopter, tied once more to its stakes, was in no danger of being removed. they felt that they could safely leave it: no one would be able to use it with parts so vital missing. if the owner had a spare switch key, it was totally unlikely that the carburetor parts were duplicated. don's plan, quietly communicated to his two friends and to mr. mcleod, was to be tried. they would leave the disabled helicopter as it was, go back to their daily tasks in the designing department of the aircraft plant and the airport, and keep a watch on the control chief, on doc morgan, and on the swamp, from the control tower balcony, with strong binoculars. no garage, accessory store or hardware shop could replace the special carburetor parts for some time; after instructing their own shop foreman to report any application for the parts that might be made to him, don rode in to port washington with his uncle and visited every shop, garage and other place where such things were available, told enough to enlist attention, without disclosing any of their suspicions about the tracing and its possible meaning, and secured a promise to have a report made of any request for carburetor floats and valves of the unusual type they had looked up in the catalogues. "now," remarked don, as their sedan returned to the airport, "if any spook, or man who calls himself a thing that never was, comes around to put his helicopter into commission, we can grab him, for we will know that no one else would be after floats like the one we removed." his uncle nodded, morose and uncommunicative. rejoining his chums, don explained his recent activities. "i found that the blue-print files had the lock picked," chick told him, "and the blue-print i made of the sketch was gone." "i've just come down from the tower balcony," added garry. "the helicopter hasn't moved. i just barely made out the blades above the grass. the way they are kept when it isn't being used, the blades are sideways to the line of sight from the control tower. that's why none of us, especially since we weren't looking for it, ever saw the thing." "probably mister spectre-man had it there all during the haunting time," chick remarked. "but what did he use it for--and how did he use it?" objected don. "the spooky airplanes were biplanes, old-timers, and there never was a helicopter in sight." "i suppose he used it to get to his other ships, and then flew them between a cloud and a light, so the shadows appeared, just as the shadow of your dart showed to us the first night we tried being airlane guards," garry suggested. "but why should he hide it in the swamp, and need it at all? if he had a biplane, he could take-off from miles away," chick argued. "it's as much of a puzzle as that mixed-up affair of a chart that may be an airplane design, or a camouflaged drawing of a privateer or old-fashioned brigantine that has treasure hidden in it," chick mused. "now, we'd better get to our watching. doc is my assignment. he's eating breakfast, so i'll go and get some, too." "control chief vance has gone to bed," garry said. "i won't have very hard work keeping track of the cottage he lives in, from the platform where i watch the helicopter. don, you'll be free, then." "well, i'll work on the inking in of the new tracings," the young pilot decided. "wouldn't it be odd if my study of airplane design had some good effect in clearing up our mysteries?" "it certainly would!" agreed chick, moving away. while he used square and compass, drawing pen and india ink, making the perfect outlines and shading on tracing paper which perfected the multitude of parts' designs, before the working blue-prints were made by chick and garry, don kept that idea in the back of his head. it would be fine, he mused, to be able to use the knowledge he had gained, especially about airplane construction and the creation of the original plans for new models, to solve the puzzling, baffling set of unexplained circumstances. the possibility seemed far-fetched, though. "how can it help that i know about streamlining the body, and the struts, and even the flying wires?" he asked himself, "or what can i make of wing-taper, and camber, and all that?" he completed the application of india ink to the drawing of a seaplane body, in outline, showing the many braces and their points of attachment to the longitudinal "keel." he put it away, with others, in a folder when it was dry. "i guess knowing about designs won't help, any more than knowing how to fly a ship was of any use to the airlane guard," he murmured, laying the folder aside for garry's later use. "if we only had the 'ignition key' so we could make 'contact,'" he smiled at his application of aviation terms to their puzzle, "it would be easy to give it the gun and fly a straight course to the solutions." when dusk came on and the chums gathered to compare notes, the day proved to have yielded blanks all around. "the indian told the truth," garry reported. "your uncle has engaged a private detective and he checked up. john and old ti-o-ga are 'playing a split week' engagement at the palace, starting saturday--today. the helicopter hasn't been moved. a private detective is there, watching it, and one is in the hangars." "we can go to the movies, then," suggested don. "let's see if the old 'medicine man' meant anything by giving us passes, and telling us to take them out of the bag after seven days." "he might, at that," garry became more animated. "that connects up, because after seven days he knew he would be here, with his son." "i hadn't seen it that way," responded don. "let's go!" they found the palace, on a side street, fairly filled when they presented the three yellow slips to the door man. large "cut-out" figures of indians, in various poses, and posters, from "one-sheets" to "flash twenty-four sheets," decorated the theatre and billboards nearby, showing in blatant coloring the scenes from "red blood and blue." the doorman, to whom the chums were well and favorably known, chuckled as he accepted the "dead-head" tickets. "papering the house, eh!" he chaffed, referring to the method by which, issuing free tickets, a manager sometimes made it appear that his theatre was well patronized. "well, you won't like the show." "why?" chick demanded. "it's the old story that the fellow who comes in free does all the 'knocking,'" responded the doorman, "i ought not to let you in at all, by rights. passes aren't good on busy week-end nights; but these are good any time--specials from the boss. how'd you get them?" "in the most 'charming' way you could think of," garry made a hidden reference to the indian's "magic bag." "they were 'gave' to us." "all right. go on!" in they went, finding a trio of seats about the center of the small and rather old-fashioned theatre. a comedy was just reaching its end, and the jet silhouettes of a fantastic kitten, gyrating across the screen from a kick, punctuated their arrival with a gale of laughter from the audience. they were just in time for the "presentation," preceding the main attraction. the heavy draperies of the softly lighted curtain swung down, concealing the stage until the screen was taken away. softly the small orchestra began a weird musical number, while from the projectors that threw the pictures onto the screen, their lenses showing colored lights instead through tinted isinglass disks, came a combined rose and blue that gave the stage, as the curtains opened, the effect of dusk coming on just after sunset. weird tom-toms thudded gently from the enclosure which pictured a forest background. before this, around a small "practical" fire, well protected, sat some supers, made up as indians. "there's john ti," murmured chick to garry. "he's going to sing!" as garry spoke the young indian broke into a chant, with a melodious voice, standing against the soft light supposed to be the dying sun's afterglow over the sea, to one side of the stage. three white people came into the scene, watching, all evidently campers, from their dress. they were extremely modern, both in pantomimic actions and in their garments. one was a girl, the other two were men, and their attentions to the girl spoke clearly of great interest in her. to the increasing rapidity of the music after the song, those make-believe warriors seemed to be caught by the spirit of some old mood, and they rose, moving about, presenting a colorful, barbaric picture as they began a dance, to the thrum of the piano and the song of violins, while dull drumbeats punctuated the music. from the wings, as the music became more wild, appeared the old indian in blanket, feathered head-dress and other marks of his chieftainship. one of the men began to make motions calculated to show his feeling of superiority toward the stalking old man, and the girl turned from him in a sort of distress, then the other man caught her hand, whereupon his rival glowered, and his hand moved toward his hip. at once the old chief stretched out an arm--the dancers drew back and squatted, the chief approached the fire, beckoning to the girl. she approached slowly, fearfully, and the music became low as the chief, squatting, drew out a bag, extracted from it some herbs which he threw into the fire. at once a great pillar of whitish, dense smoke rose, straight upward toward the wings. "clever, isn't it?" whispered garry. "they must have a fan under the trapdoor of the stage, just below that fire, to make those flames leap and the smoke go straight up." "it makes me feel sort of creepy, and as if it was real!" chick responded. then they watched, in surprise. in that white, thick, ascending pillar of smoke, as though on a screen, there slowly appeared a vision! there was the girl. there were two men. but they were indians. a quick pantomime in the moiling, upcurling smudge revealed hatred between the men, and fury when the girl chose the rival. into that vision blended another so that as one vanished the other was visible. it showed the two men, again with the girl, but as they actually stood on the stage, almost the same in appearance, as near as the men engaged by the theatre could be matched to the vision. that picture of hatred was again enacted in the new garb, and the vision was once more displaced by another--and the chums gasped. in that smoke column, black against white, two biplanes flew one after the other toward the audience--they seemed to merge, to blend, to vanish, and then--as chick made an involuntary little scream of amazement--the smoke was filled by the vision of two black, bi-winged shapes coming together. the drone of their arrival filled the theatre: so realistic was the effect that the planned scream of the girl on the stage was echoed by women among the watchers--to the rumble and roar was added the culminating contact. the vision died as the translucent screen through which it had all been observed was gradually lighted by the first scenes of the real picture, showing the events of the story which began at the crash. "well!" muttered don, "did you see what i saw?" "the very same as the spectre in the cloud!" agreed garry. "yes," chick contributed, "and i see the clue in the smoke, fellows. every time that spook has appeared--it has been a cloudy night!" "that's it!" don agreed. "the cloud acted as a screen--and now we know what was done--a picture was thrown on a cloud. but how--and by whom?" he paused. the theatre manager, passing up the aisle, gave them a pleasant salute--and all three mentally answered don's query! chapter xx don tests a theory with one accord the trio of youths hurried out of the palace and paused just around the corner from its lighted marquee. "yes, sirree!" chick spoke the conclusion of a train of thought that was clear to his comrades, "toby tew is the one!" don nodded. "he knew about that film they used," he declared, "and how the picture was thrown onto the smoke. they had a picture projecting machine hidden in the wings, and when the film was run through it, with a strong light, against the background of the dark stage, the visions appeared on the cloud of smoke." "that's it!" agreed garry. "now that i come to think about it, i remember that every night the spectre seemed to appear, there were clouds. in june there were fleecy, fluffy ones, and in july they were whitish thunderheads." "we'd better be sure, though," don argued. "i meant that we may know how the spectre was made to appear, but that wouldn't be evidence in a court if we told uncle bruce and he had mr. tew arrested for trying to ruin the airport by scaring everybody." "but the courts accept what they call 'precedents,' i know," garry insisted. "if a lawyer says that another case was decided, before, on a certain kind of evidence, then the judge has to decide the same sort of case, on the same sort of evidence, in the same way." "but how does that help?" don demanded. "well--look here!" garry was very earnest. "i can give you precedents about pictures on smoke. one night i was taken to a film showing part of a prizefight, and there were a whole lot of men in the audience who smoked, so that the hall had a thick curtain of cigar smoke between the screen and the projecting machine--and the picture showed on the smoke--and, what's more, the smoke was all glowing between the lens and where the smoke was so thick that the picture was clear." "i've read about a picture theatre out in the desert section of the country," chick stated. "i read it in a moving picture 'trade' journal mr. tew loaned me--about a dust storm in kansas, i believe it was, where the dust was so thick in a theatre that the pictures they had to show appeared on the dust almost as well as on the screen!" "what of it?" argued don. "i'm trying to make you see that proving how a vision is made to appear doesn't prove who made it show!" "i see your idea!" agreed chick. "it could have come from the control room, if the man on duty happened to have the right kind of apparatus to use for showing a film and could fix it to use the powerful airport searchlight." "yes," argued garry, convincing himself. "i see that! and mr. vance could be there alone, any time, any night. he could have a projector 'head'--the thing that snatches the films down in front of the lenses and then holds them each a fraction of time before the light to let the image get itself impressed on your eye. he could fix it to use the search beam, probably. he's a wizard about lighting for night work on airways and in airports." "look!" don pointed down the street. "there's his car. he was in the palace, i think. even if we didn't see him, that's where he was. now i say, let's get our bicycles and hurry down to the airport, and look around, before he comes back to his cottage to sleep." they hastened to their respective homes, securing the bicycles. in most instances somebody gave them a "lift" down to the waterside base, but each rode well, and was enduring and speedy on the pedals. "the more i think about it," garry stated, pedaling swiftly and then coasting down the inclined road toward the water, "the more i think it over, the less i believe it's from the control tower, and the surer i am that toby tew is the man who makes spook pictures on clouds." "he used the helicopter!" chick contributed. don argued his conviction sturdily. how, he proposed, could a man in a helicopter throw a picture on a cloud without being seen? "our dragonfly and the mail 'plane were the only ones visible--i didn't see the helicopter at all, the night of the 'spooking,'" he asserted. "no," garry admitted, "but, for that matter, we didn't see scott in the dart. in a black sky, with lightning flickering to keep your eyes altering the dilation of the pupils, we might have missed seeing them; but the helicopter was there, maybe floating just above the cloud!" "it couldn't have been!" don was triumphant. "i drove right into that cloud!" swinging his handlebars to the left to pass down the airport road, garry was silent: chick, though, took up the argument. "we can soon find out," he declared. "we can search the control room and see if we find the least thing to back up don's notion that it's the control chief we have to blame. i think, myself, mr. tew would be foolish--or brazen!--to show how the thing was done, if he was the guilty man." the control tower room was in charge of vance's assistant, who was busy taking down air condition reports from a radio with a headset. he nodded, and went on, concentrating his attention on the weather data which must be posted--and accurately--on the weather board in the pilots' assembling room. with the data typed, the assistant, knowing that don was trustworthy and that no scheduled arrivals would ensue, left the room in the young pilot's charge while he departed to post his notes; and the chance they longed for was made for them. the search of drawers in the radio table gave no result. no other section of the drawer space seemed worth looking into, and since no visible evidence of any projection apparatus other than the airport equipment was seen, they felt that prying was useless. "nothing for the control chief to use--you see that!" argued garry. "i suppose you think he'd have everything standing right out for everybody to see?" don spoke witheringly. "well, then," chick seemed inclined to take garry's side, to suspect the man who operated a theatre and, thereby, knew most about the projection of images from and through moving picture films. don sent his eyes from wall to wall, from cupboard of spare instruments to unlocked desk drawers. "tew is the one to blame," chick persisted. "vance told the truth about that tracing; he put his initials on it by chance, the way i'd make little stars in my geography book when i'd try to memorize the capitals of the south-central states." "but--oh, shucks! what's the good. i don't know who it is. i think the control man is more logical than toby tew--and i like toby best, too!" don said, morosely. "but what's the good of a theory, any way you look at it, unless everything fits." the helicopter didn't fit in with the idea of the control room man projecting a moving scene on a cloud, he argued against his own ideas: at the same time, the helicopter failed to connect a theatre owner and boatman with such an idea. the picture on a cloud could have been evolved by either, since both knew about the angles of projection and the properties of light, concentration, angle and diffusion. but doc morgan had also acted in a suspicious manner, and certainly knew about the treasure, which, in itself, failed to fit in with the theory of tew trying to ruin airport business for spite against its executive. coming back, the control assistant asked don if he would stay until the assistant slipped across the runways to his boarding place for a ten o'clock cup of coffee and some cold lunch. don agreed. getting his coat, the assistant caught his arm in an older garment hanging on a peg, and it fell to the floor. they all heard the clink and jingle of some metallic object as it flew out of the vest hung under the coat and also dislodged. the man bent, picking it up. "what's this?" he wondered aloud. "the chief ought not to have keys loose like that in his old duds--doc might knock them down the way i did and be too busy mooning over something to hear the noise--and a key would be lost." "golly-to-chriminety!" exclaimed chick, running across to him, "let's see that key, chubby! it might be that it fits the cabinet where i keep the blue-prints--the one the blue-print of the ship plan was taken out of." "oh, no! the chief isn't that sort. anyway he lost a tracing, too!" "i don't accuse him of that!" there was a hidden meaning in chick's tone, "but somebody might have put this where you found it!" "that's right! here! try it!" don remained on duty, allowed the man to depart, and then waited expectantly while chick rushed away on his errand. garry, on the balcony, using the binoculars to try and locate the helicopter's upthrusting blades, heard his name called. "garr--ry!" the hail came from the lower floor. he raced down the stairway. don, waiting, impatiently tried to hear the words that seemed to come up in excited, quick calls of amazement. soon his comrades came stamping up the stairs. "the key didn't fit the cabinets!" chick set down the large black leather case he had been dragging along, and puffed for breath. "but--it--did--fit--one--of--the lockers--in the pilots' locker room!" "oho!" garry came after his smaller companion, dragging a compact and intricate-looking mechanism. don, staring, recognized it. "that's a projector 'head!'" he said excitedly. "and you found it, in a pilots' locker--whose?" "oh! i don't know that," chick argued. "i think it's a spare one. what does it matter! the key was in the chief's vest, the one he puts on when he is working around in here. what more proof do you want! you argued that he was guilty of throwing the spook pictures! well----" don, examining the projector apparatus, which comprised an upper canister, or flat magazine, into which a reel of film could be placed, a film guide, a 'gate' and aperture, with mechanism for snatching the film through, and its lower guide and magazine, looked up. "open that leather case." it was only snapped shut, not locked. chick and garry got back the lid in short order. "here's a roll of film." chick drew it out, opening the tin container protecting the celluloid material from drying out or from chance of fire. "it's--an--aviation scene----" "and the key to the locker was in the chief's vest!" chanted garry. "your theory was right, don." "i'm not so sure!" don looked from the film to the projector. "it looks black for him, but--garry how would you concentrate enough light from the big, open spot lantern here, onto the aperture of the projector head? see! the lens in that spot lamp is at least eighteen inches across, and that's the diameter of the beam it throws. the part of the projector that the light has to concentrate on is less than two inches across! how about it?" "i can't tell you." "it was your theory, don," chick reminded him. "now you've got 'evidence.' you find out how it's used." "i will!" don accepted the challenge. studying the situation, the lighting conditions, and the materials at hand, he jumped up, turning an excited face to his comrades. "this is how i'll prove my theory--or test it, anyway," he asserted. "chick, rush down to the designing room, and get the big focusing cloth you use to cover your head when you have to focus the enlarging camera for detail print enlargements. bring it up." chick was back very soon with the big, rubberized square of black. "now," don came from an adjoining room where they had discarded flying togs that morning, "i'll take the dart, and go aloft--and fly out over the swamps. chick, you and garry adjust that focusing cloth over the projector head so it cuts off all the stray light that the beam lens won't concentrate on the aperture plate. then, when i set off a green verey light, and it goes out and i have time to get my eyes used to the dark again, you open up the beam, and start turning the projector, with this film in it, trained on a cloud near where i am. we'll soon test my theory." he got a mechanician, half asleep in the lonely hangar shops, had his help to start up the refueled dart, warmed up the light ship, and signaling for the "mech" to release the tail he had been steadying against propeller blast, on the runway, don sent the small craft into the water, taxied along its gently ruffled surface, got on the step and with full gun went soaring up to test a theory. short was his turn and abrupt his wingtip bank, to get himself headed for the marshes. there, with a chosen altitude that he judged to be right for the angle of projection, he made ready to see if the tower beam had sufficient concentration and intensity to make a ghost of a film picture show on the cloud its beam might strike. the green verey flashed out, burned and died. gliding, watchful, don's eyes accustomed themselves to the dark. a moment passed. then, as he banked to come back, he saw it. from a luminous cloud the spectre ship flew out at him! chapter xxi a question of angles without wasting an instant, when he saw the silhouette of the spectre in the cloud, don fired the verey pistol set at the side of his airplane. arranged for the discharge of the verey lights, the implement, fixed at one side of the fuselage, sent out into the air a bright, white flash. the smoke bomb that don used was such as pilots employ to show them wind direction. the light was almost instantly gone, being succeeded by the liberation of a dense volume of smoke that drifted in the light summer breeze. but don was not concerned with the smoke: he knew that watchful eyes had been ready to catch the flash, through the dark. "they know, in the control room, that i got what i came for," he told himself. "now they'll shut off the light and get everything put away before the control man returns from his late supper." with quick hands he set the controls to swing back, and made the return trip in as brief a space of time as the dart's power permitted. at the runway, as he came to rest, chick ran up. "we got your flash!" he said, keeping his voice low. "garry's putting back the things. let's get the dart back. you'll have to explain the flight to the control man. he must have heard the take-off and landing." "right. well, chick, one thing is settled, anyhow." "one thing? you mean----" don, unsnapping his helmet chin strap, put his lips close to chick's ear and spoke very earnestly. "the spectre appeared. but!--it wasn't from your projector!" if he expected a cry of surprise, as his grip on chick's arm for a warning seemed to indicate, he was, himself, surprised. "we know it," chick, to don's amazement remarked. "you do? then you saw it?" "no, don. come on. let's not talk till we get back to garry." he led the way to the stairs, and instead of going on to the control tower, turned aside at the door to the lower corridor. "let's go into the designing department," he suggested. "as soon as the control man returns, garry will meet us there." "just where i meant to go." together they entered the room, lighting its dome bulbs. "as soon as i saw the picture on the cloud," don stated, "i knew it didn't come from the control room." "how did you find that out!" don, at the table, took pencil and paper. while he sketched rapidly garry entered. chick put him in possession of don's news. watching, garry nodded. "don knew, from the light angle, i guess," he whispered. the sketch don made was proof of his accuracy of judgment. it showed a small airplane, as though viewed from above. its nose was directed toward a sketchy line that indicated the shore of the bay. a little in front of its nose don had made a small indication of a cloud. on that he put a straight line, that the others saw was meant to represent the "screen," or place where the picture had been seen. and the airport control room when he sketched it in, lay at exact right angles to that screen line! "as the nose pointed west," don said, excitedly, "the light from your projector, coming from the south, would have been on the south part of the cloud. but the picture was on the east side, the one i faced. that's how i knew you didn't throw the picture. besides, as i saw earlier, the diffused light from your beam, as it touched a cloud before the picture appeared, was very faint!" "q. e. d." chick quoted his school algebraic phrase. "but if i saw the picture facing toward the west, how could you see it from the south!" asked don. "we didn't!" "then how did you know, garry? what proved you didn't project it?" garry answered slowly. "the film we had," he explained, "started off with a couple of 'shots' of airplanes--flying over our swamp. but then it became a series of moving pictures, taken from the air, of water and marsh." "and that was all," chick added. "the more things i see," don said after a long moment of thought, "the more i begin to think that indian, john, had the right idea." "about smith--the mail flyer?" garry asked. "yes." "we will see a little later," chick stated. "his 'plane comes in after awhile." "don't forget," don argued, "that a man clever enough to do all the things we have seen done is bright enough to have somebody else fly his mail close to this airport, set down, and let smith take it over and bring it in. for money, and with a man far enough away, it would be possible--and we could never check it up." "he's still in that swamp, close by," don argued. "he is as brazen as they come, too!" chick wondered audibly why don had not flown straight up "to catch the man." "alone?" garry defended don from a hint of caution. "don did the right thing, coming back here. the stores haven't reported a call for spare carburetor parts. the man is clever." "maybe he got spare parts at bennett field, or roosevelt field," chick suggested. don held up a hand and shook his head. "it isn't important, just now," don declared. "let's make sure how the picture was thrown, tonight, while i flew around. then we can work out why there is this extra projector head and a misfit airplane crash picture afterward, and about the carburetor." "well, if you looked around, you must have seen the crate that the 'ghost' used," chick inferred. "but i didn't." they knew that he had not been careless: had a ship been in sight his sharp eyes, looking for just that, would have noted it. "listen," garry drew up a chair by the table, "don, your knowledge of angles, and the things you had to study about angle of attack of a wing, and angles of incidence of air and wing, and all that, ought to help out here. this seems to be a question of angles." "it does," chick agreed. "what's more, garry, you've studied about light, because i know the control chief gave you some books when he saw that you took an interest in his work." "maybe we can both get something out of what we've learned," don admitted. "now--how?" "well," chick offered an opinion, "the old indian gave us passes that showed us 'how' the ghost could be worked. maybe there is a clue to 'where from.'" "yes--i think there is!" don caught a fresh sheet of paper, and began to draw a rough diagram of the theatre stage, sketching in the position of the pillar of smoke broadly. "from what we've proved, about tonight, the stage picture couldn't have come from the wings," he stated. "it would have to fall on the smoke from the front, almost, or else the people in side seats might see it and not those in direct line, from in front of it." garry drew the sheet to him, made an addition, showing the projection room of the palace, up on its balcony. "the theatre was made very dark," he said, "and all the light on the stage was adjusted so that the sunset died out when the pillar of smoke went upward. then the man at the film projectors in the balcony 'faded in' the picture--from in front, and at an angle 'above' the audience." don jumped up, upsetting his chair in his excitement. "knowledge is power!" he cried, excitedly. "study of angles has given us the answer to chick's 'where from!' that shows why there is a helicopter hidden in the marsh!" "i see it!" chick was equally animated. "with the helicopter, the 'ghost' projector could hover above the clouds, well hidden." "yes, and 'throw down' from that makeshift 'projection room' onto a cloud," exclaimed garry. "he could hover very high," don contributed. "there he could see an airplane, coming, at a distance, gauge its direction, swing his own ship and descend to a point over a cloud. hidden there, with his light on, and his film going through, the spectre would appear on smoke or clouds right in front of the coming airplane." "that's exactly how, and from where, the ghost comes!" garry agreed. "now, here's a suggestion, don! let's 'show' everybody!" "i don't quite see--" began the young pilot. "it's almost midnight." garry consulted his wrist watch. "the palace has finished the second show. the control chief and the others will all come here to see that everything is right, and for the arrival of the midnight passenger 'plane from the maine summer resorts. i'll stay here and you, don, and chick, take the dart, fly to where the helicopter is, with the projector and film, and when i give a beam signal that they are here, you two, in the helicopter, pick a cloud they can all see, and 'put on your show.' the minute that everybody sees how simply it is done, the ghost's claws will be pulled--no pilot will be afraid and maybe--maybe your uncle will get a whale of a lot of business." "yes!" chick was enthused. "and garry can see whose face betrays guilty knowledge, when the actual 'spook' is projected." "but--" don saw the difficulties, "this isn't the same film, hidden in the locker. besides--where will we get the light?" "the 'ghost' must get light from somewhere--" chick began. a flash of inspiration made him bang his palm on the table. "the boathouse!" he exclaimed. "don--garry! i saw the man who never lived come up from under that boathouse. that's where he stores all his real stuff--light, and film, and maybe another projector, complete! this one is just in case he is suspected--to mix up the trails!" "i believe chick has the right idea!" garry conceded. "so do i! come on, chick! we'll 'put on a show' and clear up the airport mystery of the spectre in the clouds for once and all!" again the faithful dart, with two youthful occupants, took to the air. and someone, behind the screen at the wash basin in the designing room, smiled, waited until garry left for the control room, and then strolled nonchalantly back to the cottage where he roomed, and went peacefully to his quarters. "there won't be any more need for the ghost," remarked the quietly smiling person to his shaving mirror. "tomorrow the boys will be busy getting out of this little experiment--the engineers won't be working, and it ought to be easy to find the chest that must have been buried when the mud in crab channel sucked down the brigantine, _lady o' fortune_." don and chick, in the dart, drove on, full-gun, to help his prophecy come true. chapter xxii daring and disaster careless of the attention they might attract, don and chick rode the low altitudes toward the sheet of water before the boathouse. chick had a parachute flare ready. don signaled. overside went the flare, to ignite and throw its fierce, white glare over the approach. as it settled don spiraled down, far enough away to make his pass at the water, power-stalling to a safe drop onto the surface. he gunned the engine enough to bring them close to the old wharf and then let the incoming tide drift them, while chick, out on a pontoon, sidewise to the piling, caught the rope they had cut and left hanging some nights earlier. to draw the ship closer was no task. securing it, and taking the precaution of pocketing the parts previously removed from the helicopter carburetor, don passed them up to chick, whose agility had enabled him to reach the planking of the dock. "now," don helped by chick, made the level and drew a small flashlamp out of his coat, "let's see, first, if anybody's up here." the light of the small torch danced to and fro as they stood in the open door of the old building. "nobody at home!" chick declared, following the light into corners, behind the table, still lying on its side where it had been overthrown in the former struggles, and lifting the trap in the dark corner. "down we go!" don whispered. "nothing to stop us." their light, showing a rusting iron ladder, also revealed the surface of stagnant water, around a small landing stage, built to float up and down with the tide. around it, thickly clustered, were the dozen dories owned by toby tew. boards, on the lee side, nailed to the string-pieces, served to keep wind out in storms, and since the boarding was carried down below the tide marks, disturbances from wind drift did not much affect the tethered crabbing boats. "if we find anything," don held the light while chick descended, head bent to screen his eyes, "if we find a projector, and a battery, it will narrow down our suspicions to toby, and point to him after all." "it will!" chick agreed, reaching up to take the light, then jumping from the lower rungs of the hanging ladder which did not quite go down to the platform, allowing for its rise with the tide. "here i come!" don, with chick lighting his way, made the climb and jump. "nothing on the platform," remarked chick sending the beam to and fro. "put it on the dories--that's it. there!" a note of triumph was in don's voice. they hurried to the edge of the platform, drew a dory close, and were quickly within its cluttered hull. a tarpaulin, dragged aside, revealed, in the light, a good-sized box-like metallic contrivance, its sides rounded, with a sort of chimney on top: there was, besides, a large, circular tank, and a smalled metal case. "here's a portable projector," don identified the metallic object, "and there is the 'head' and probably film, in that smaller case. but where does he get his light?" "maybe that tank holds acetylene gas," suggested chick. don, unfastening the projector lamp-house, exclaimed in elation. "i know!" he cried. the round, pure white object set in a holder within the lamp-house, identified by don as a calcium disk, told him the source of light. "this calcium gives the whitest, most brilliant light there is," he declared. "see, chick! the tank probably contains oxygen, under a strong pressure. yes--there's a gauge, and a pet-cock to regulate the gas flow. the tank connects, by this rubber hose, to the base of the burner, and the thing on the lamp, like a bent finger, pointing toward the calcium disk, is to throw the oxygen jet onto its surface. then it glares like all get-out!" "let's row the dory, and never mind the dart: she'll stay put," chick found oars on the staging in a big box. they found quite a direct channel, along the shore line from the boathouse to the position in which the helicopter still lay tethered. expertly, as chick obeyed his orders, don assembled the parts of the apparatus in the cockpit of the helicopter. iron, or perhaps aluminum, pieces, set into the coaming, enabled them to attach the portable projector, and to swing it to and fro, and direct it up and down. "did you ever fly a helicopter before?" chick asked, as they perfected the connections between tank and the lamp base. "no. but it's simple! i mean--i can do it! you see, chick, my flying experience will let me handle the tractor propeller, just the same as in the dart." "i suppose so! and i see that all you have to do about the top set of blades is to throw in a clutch that meshes the gears on the upright mast. the mast is set in a step and bearing in the body frame. it is squared into the gear that turns it--i guess you can manage it." don agreed. nevertheless, being a cautious youth who believed in being forehanded, he went over the curious, squat fuselage, tracing gas, oil, water-cooling and other feeds and piping. then he examined the engine. except that it was of a make he had not handled, it offered no difficulties. assuring himself that the gas gauge indicated at least several hours of fuel supply, and that he understood the controls for the lifting mechanism, don operated the momentum starter. its handle, rapidly rotated, gave a big, heavy wheel considerable momentum. then, applying its control, he transmitted the power thus achieved to the engine and after several attempts the starter caused the charge in a cylinder to be ignited as the flywheel turned onto a point where a firing current passed into a charge of fuel mixture. at once the engine took up its revolutions. don manipulated the throttle until he became fairly conversant with the power response, then, carefully, being sure that all was well, and that they had the film already threaded properly in the projector and that chick comprehended the handling of the fuel for the lamp jet, he eased down the engine, let in the upper blade clutch, and saw the mast whirl its fan-like top slowly. gradually, as chick cast loose the ropes, don increased the speed of the upper blades, leaving the forward propeller idle. the speed of the rotating fan soon began to be felt; but they did not rise. "don!" chick, sensed a solution, having studied a good deal about the various points of airplane design, "remember that when a pontoon is in water, as it lifts, the suction of the surface increases and has a strong pull to keep it from leaving: that's why they design a pontoon with a 'step' so the contact is with the top of the water, and not down in it." "that's right," don agreed. "we'll have to go forward a little as we lift. on land that wouldn't be necessary. in water it may." the experiment was tried: he used the thrust-propeller, and in short order they were rising: then he cut out the forward speed, until he had made some tests of lifting speed with the horizontal blades. "here we go!" he cried finally. go they did--up and forward. "aside from the handling of the upper fan," he mused, "this isn't much different from a slow cruising airplane. the tail and propeller control are similar--rudder and elevators; but i'll have to remember the turn is made without ailerons to bank. we don't have to bank on a turn. we just rudder around, and the upper blades keep us on a stable keel as we turn--here, we do it!" around swung the forward propeller, and don directed the craft toward the higher levels on a slanting line that climbed it and also progressed it toward the airport. he saw, when they came close to the open space, figures on the illuminated tower balcony, watching upward. someone blinked a flash lamp. "that means 'o.k.'" he murmured. "we can put on our show!" cried chick, also misinterpreting the signal that they did not pause to spell out in full. swiftly, with the engine gunned in, don lifted the helicopter above the small groups of fluffy, white cloud that gave him excuse for his experiment. the airport vanished beneath the mist and the shrouding clusters of dense, smoky-white vapor. don swung the nose, as they hovered, drifting only slightly. thus he maneuvered into a position where his understanding of the angles they had worked out enabled chick to train the projector on a mass of white vapor just over the edge of the bay. he threw up his arm. the beam of the white light glowed, and chick quickly maneuvered it, through a threaded-up section of transparent, non-inflammable film, into the cloud. he began to turn the crank. darkness ensued in the cloud as part of an opaque film covered the light. suddenly don screamed. "stop!" he threw up his arm, trying to signal chick. but the younger chum, intent on his handling of the intense light and the focusing tube of the lenses, as well as the proper course of the film as it jerked downward, paid no attention, failed to hear the cry and did not see the signal, his eyes being turned downward and away. from the airport came screeches, as of warning, terror or distress. the crash siren was going! don, from their high point, looking alertly around the horizon, had observed that the midnight mail 'plane, behind schedule, was coming, low and fast, over the swamp. it all happened in a few instants. on came the mail 'plane. up above the clouds, hidden from the mail ship by vapor, chick cranked his projector. as the mail ship approached, near the edge of the swamp, out on the cloud leaped the glow that suffused it, went through it, made of it a weird, terrifying set of illuminated atoms of moisture. onto that plane of light leaped the black silhouette of an oncoming ship. the swing don tried to make, to turn the vision away from its screen, did not help, since they had no forward speed to cause the rudder to work. hideous terrors gripped the young pilot. he knew what was about to happen. the pilot of the mail ship, already superstitious, and aware of the ghostly stories that had been flung far and wide, would look toward that cloud as he dropped the nose toward the airport approaches. it couldn't be helped. the spectre in the clouds was flying right at him as his ship disappeared from don's sight under the cloud over which they hovered. swiftly he cut the speed of the upper blades. they began to settle. "what will we find on the ground?" don muttered. chapter xxiii avenging wings soon after don flew away with his younger chum, garry was rejoined by the control assistant. they sat talking for some time: then, as garry's frequent trips to the balcony became noticeable, the man asked their reason and garry explained their intention. while he finished his story, the control chief, vance, with doc morgan, came out from town, in the former's car: soon afterward mr. mcleod drove back from his trip with the mail. the airport executive was in high spirits. when, however, garry detailed his story, the face of don's uncle took on a serious look. "don knows nothing about helicopters," he declared. "besides, this isn't the way to accomplish results. i have detectives watching. if you had given them all this information it would have been better than for don to try to 'show up' the trick. that warns the real perpetrator, puts him on his guard. the detectives could probably have caught him." "that wasn't the worst feature," the control chief volunteered. "the mail 'bus is due in half an hour," he declared. "suppose that hair-brained nephew of yours decides to 'put on his act' just as it is coming in?" startled, garry saw the force of the argument. "don is going to have the helicopter over the airport till he gets a signal and gives one," he asserted. "i'll signal him to come down, to give up the idea." then, as another thought came to him, he added: "i'd better get the dragonfly warmed up and on one of the outgoing runways, sir. if anything should compel don to land in the bay or the swamp--or if he didn't recognize my signal--i could manage to fly the 'crate' that far--i've had fifteen hours solo in her." to that the others agreed, including the private detectives summoned from various posts about the airport where they were on watch. with the help of the night mechanician, garry got the dragonfly out and set its engine going. then he hurried back to the control tower, to discover that the landing had been made by the dart, as the flare had revealed. then there was silence, and alert, but futile watching, until garry, watching the northern skies, discerned the approach of the helicopter, as it swung along above the clouds, between two of which its light pontoons showed for a second. garry rushed to get a strong electric torch. "i'll send a blink-signal in morse code," he told don's uncle. waiting until the helicopter drifted down, he sent the signal which don and chick misinterpreted. from that moment onward, all was confusion. garry rushed, with mr. mcleod, to the dragonfly, and prepared to take off. the signal man in the control tower, watching the sky, sent them a triple flicker of the pilot's spotlight, agreed on as a sign that the mail 'plane was in sight. then came the delay that was caused by garry's great excitement, so that he did not get the dragonfly off the runway at the first attempt. instead, holding the elevators down too long, he got too near the end of the runway to risk trying to climb above some wires that ran in a diagonal line across the space ahead. easily cleared in a correct take-off, they might have been the means of snagging the underbody with garry's slight experience in climbing angles and control manipulation. the dragonfly, just at the end of the runway, had to be turned, taxied back, and given a fresh start. as he topped the wires on his second attempt, mr. mcleod prodded garry. the young, inexpert pilot, cutting the gun, and, fortunately retaining presence of mind enough to drop the nose to a glide as he cut power, looked around. the man in the second seat pointed aloft. in a quick look garry took in the situation. fearing the worst, he seemed to sense its imminent arrival. there, above the edge of the bay, a cloud was glowing. from his point of view he did not see the flickering picture, but he guessed it was either there or soon to appear. he gave the nose a tilt upward, opening the throttle, as he saw the edge of the marsh seeming to rise up toward the dragonfly. as soon as he had climbed to a safer level he looked again. there was the mail ship, coming down! he again cut the gun for a glide, the better to watch. his heart was in his mouth. the mail ship was dropping swiftly. suddenly it side-slipped. would there be a crash? "poor don!" gasped garry, "he has sewed himself up in an awful snarl if anything happens!" at the same instant that the siren began to scream its crash summons he saw the mail 'plane come out of the side-slip. to his amazement its pilot did not appear to be aware of the dragonfly, cruising in a gently banked circle over the edge of the swamp, just beyond the end of the runways. instead, with a spiral, the pilot began to climb. the beam of the airport searchlight flashed into being, and as it swung past that mail pilot, garry, his head turned over his shoulder, caught sight of the pilot's arm upraised, his fist clenched, being shaken furiously toward the upper air into which the mail pilot climbed. "he's wild with anger!" garry decided. he tilted his elevators to lift the dragonfly, full power being on as he made as steep a climb as he dared. he must get above the clouds. if he could reach the altitude in time to signal don to descend, the young pilot in the helicopter might avoid that sinister vengeance so clearly planned by the irate pilot of the mail craft. clearly garry saw that the man had been anticipating some manifestation of the haunting spectre, had planned a deliberate reprisal. justly, as garry realized, he proposed to take into his own hands the vengeance due for the terrible menace of the evil apparition. "but--it's don--and his intentions were perfectly innocent!" garry muttered, trying to edge the throttle a notch further on. the clouds were just above him. he made his climb into a banked, turning ascent, passing through the thin edge of a fluffy vapor, to come out into the clearer air on a level with don. already the young pilot was descending. but this was not evident to the infuriated mail pilot who, coming straight at the helicopter from a swing on wingtip at a higher elevation over the swamp, made a ferocious dive, on wings of vengeance, for the ungainly ship don piloted. his intent was clear. with his "propeller wash," or slip-stream of turbulent air, he meant to upset the helicopter. garry held his breath. he could do nothing. the mail ship passed just behind the helicopter. it wavered, tossed, bent far to the side--began to go down--fast! chapter xxiv sky tactics clearly don saw, as his helicopter wavered, teetering like a dizzy baby trying to stand alone, the venomous purpose behind that air disturbing swoop. chick, staring with wide eyes, his heart stopped, felt the sway and quiver of the cockpit and convulsively snapped the clasp of the safety belt he had released to operate the projector. up, in a zoom, after his furious dive, the mail craft's pilot sent his ship. on wingtip, he came around. garry saw his intention. so, too, did chick and don. the dive had sent the angry flyer down a steep dive, past the helicopter and up, again, in a climbing zoom, to a high point on which he turned to come again past the other aircraft. garry realized that the man in that ship of doom was beside himself with passion, beyond reason. don's hand pressed the throttle. his own engine revved up smartly. the upper blades whirled faster. "can he climb away in time?" garry gasped. mr. mcleod, behind him, shouting, futile, helpless, gave up waving his arms at the mail flyer and watched garry with wondering eyes as the young and inexpert pilot at the controls of the dragonfly began also to increase his speed. don, opening up his fuel feed, felt the top fan catch in steady air, saw the needle of his altimeter tremble, begin to move forward. his tractor, or pulling propeller, also operating, began to show an effect. but whether he climbed, at the same time moving forward, or not, the mail flyer could so adjust his next dive that it would sweep the helicopter's air with that deadly, upsetting propeller wash. garry, too, realizing that, came, as best he knew how, to the rescue. with his flying speed picking up rapidly, he drove straight across the area between himself and the mail flyer. his eyes, watchful and narrowed, caught the instant at which the flyer ahead dropped his nose. his own ship dropped its nose, and, with throttle, open wide, giving his engine full impulse the intrepid youth darted straight for the area where he judged that the other man's dive would bring him. carefully, so as not to spoil don's own air too much and thus do what the mail flyer sought to accomplish, yet making his attack as close as his inexperience told him was safe, garry drove for the point where the other diving ship should come. that dive of garry's spelled an instant's respite for don. with a right foot slightly pressing rudder bar, garry swung the dragonfly in a gentle arc, as he went down, so that his path of flight went as far to don's side as possible: at the same time he would come back, he felt, into a line that must either bring the mail 'plane and his ship close, or the other, disturbed and disgruntled by his unexpected tactics, must side-slip out of danger. that was not quite the result. the mail ship, its control man seeing garry's purpose, drew up his nose, kicking rudder and banking--he sent the ship into an upward, sidewise skid. it accomplished garry's purpose. don, climbing and moving forward at the helicopter's best speed, was out of the danger zone. the few seconds of advantage he gained meant safety, because he had the helicopter righted and working under perfect control again. garry, cutting the gun, not skilful enough to dare sharp maneuvers, went on for some hundreds of yards before he thought it safe to bank and turn. a swift glance sidewise and backward showed him that the mail ship had come out of its skid, righted and again was executing a wingtip turn. "won't the idiot ever give up?" garry muttered. chick, watching the scene, unable to take part, saw one point of possible advantage, if he could only communicate with garry. in its climbing, forward position, the helicopter was close to the same altitude that the mail ship then had. garry, in his last maneuver, had lost a considerable amount of altitude, and was, thereby, too low for anything but a climb. still, as chick almost instantaneously thought it out, if garry drove forward on a straight line, the imminent dive of the mail pilot would bring him into danger of a crash with the dragonfly--if only chick could get garry to fly forward, on a level, at once, to get to that essential point where he would be in the required position, the mail pilot must turn. with wildly waving arms chick tried to attract garry's attention. the young amateur, busy watching his controls, the steadying of his ship, planning his next course, did not at once see chick's movement. chick reaching forward, caught the detonating mechanism of the verey pistol, which he knew don had told him to load after their last signal. chick fired the green verey light. that made garry turn his head. with the pilots' code, arm movements, chick beckoned to garry, as he saw the youth turn his head that way: quickly, then, chick held an arm straight out in front of him. rapidly he repeated the gestures. as he began again to beckon, garry, catching his idea, revved up, his ship came on, level-keeled and swift, just as the mail ship began to come forward, itself on a power-glide of an angle to bring it close to the helicopter. but garry, coming fast, saw the value of chick's signal. full-gun, he used every ounce of power, every hope of his earnest young championship for don and chick, to send that craft of his into place in time. the mail ship's control man saw that if he continued to come at the helicopter he must come also into a line of flight that would intersect that of the dragonfly. unafraid, determined, if need be, to risk all to save don from the vicious doom intended by the infuriated, senseless man who had tried to avenge a mistaken idea of the helicopter's purpose, garry held on. the mail ship swerved away long before it came near garry and the dragonfly. don, its pilot saw, would be above any safe dive he could make, and he suddenly changed his tactics, swerved and then, kicking rudder and banking--but in the wrong direction with respect to making a turn--the mail ship following its controls, skidded upward, straight for the helicopter. but its pilot did not want a crash. he thus got into a position where his sudden restoration of balance put him just forward of the helicopter. there, revving up to full speed, he sent back over the tail of his ship that most terrible of all man-made winds--the straight, hard fury of his propeller blast. don felt the helicopter stagger. with all his hope gone he felt sickish, as the blast came. not alone his own, but chick's life, too, was about to be the payment for an impulsive plan. but that power above and beyond man's puny hates, sometimes called luck, oftener known as a good "break," had caused the mail pilot to neglect to return his elevators to neutral; slightly raised, the tail surface caught the full effect of his own deadly slip-stream, sending the nose sharply upward, and thus making that fury of disturbed air pass only the tractor propeller of don's craft--so that its upper blades at their best speed were able to draw him up beyond the danger of worse than an instant of horrifying danger. stalled, the mail 'plane fell away, and its pilot had his work cut out to avoid a bad stall. over the bay, although the clouds concealed it, the mail 'plane, without pontoons, must quickly get flying speed, or plunge. don, still rising, and garry, flying toward the swamp, saw another airplane, with the unmistakable markings of the government service, come swooping from a higher altitude. two red verey lights, the imperative order to land at once, flashed out from the newcomer's signal firing apparatus. that new craft meant business, was commanded by some one in authority. going, on his glide, below the cloud scud, garry circled out over the bay, came around to face the light breeze, took the water with his pontoons and shot toward the landing stages. as he skittered over the surface he saw crowds rushing about in the wide area covered by the landing lights; evidently everyone driving home from late picture shows and dances had heard the bellowing siren; the airport day force was on hand; feverishly they worked to get the first mail craft off the runways, as the second came in. two handlers caught the dragonfly's wing as garry drifted it to the landing stage. further out on the bay, don set down the helicopter, to chick's intense relief, without a jar. shutting off the top blades the young flyer used the tractor prop to draw him to the place vacated by garry. on the landing wharf don, as he made sure that chick was again in possession of his normal color, saw garry, in the lowered rays of the spot and other lights, surrounded by a group. doc morgan was there, he saw. so, he was surprised to see, were the two indians, old ti-o-ga and his son, john. cars were parking everywhere they could find space. excitement was in the air. "we've got a lot of company waiting for us to come home," chick whispered, with an uneasy grin. "i don't like it much," don responded. "especially not the man in that ship that ordered us down. he looks angry, from here." "well!" garry pushed past the crowd assembling around don and chick, "don, do you hear what they're saying in the crowd?" "yes," admitted don, looking around. "we're elected," muttered garry. "they say the ghost of mystery airport is caught!" mr. mcleod, behind him, frowned. "i wish you boys had shown some sense," he told the trio. "it's all very fine to discover methods, and to tell others how mysteries are worked; but it is pretty dangerous to show off when mail is being brought in. that man in the other 'bus is a postal inspector, by his looks--or an army man out of uniform." "i know we were hasty," don said ruefully, "but--we will have to face the music." "i don't think we'll like the tune very much," garry observed. "no," agreed chick, "garry's pretty sure to lose his flying license, at the very least." the curt summons delivered by the man who came to them from the last land 'plane to set down, shoving his way through the crowd without ceremony, proved that there was basis for their uneasiness. "well, young man," the newcomer snapped, "you and your scapegrace friends will come with me, unless there is some one here, in authority who will guarantee your safe arrival before the new york chief of my department at nine in the morning. you can't fool with mail, trying your tricks and stunts to delay the mails--especially air mail!" while mr. mcleod conferred, sponsoring don and his chums, chick put a hopeful look on the face he turned to his comrades. "we'll have the real ghost by morning!" he whispered. chapter xxv eight hours' leeway taking their cue from the abrupt, antagonistic attitude of those who could overhear the inspector's words, the crowd began to mutter and to mill around, held back only by the lack of a leader. the lack might be supplied by any chance word of any among them. "this is a pretty bad spot," murmured garry, softly, to don. "how about some football tactics?" hinted chick. "we could break through the few between us and the helicopter. it would be warm enough to start easily." "we're not flying any more tonight." don made a prediction he might find impossible to keep. "here comes doc morgan, and the handling crew." working their way through the crowd, the sturdy men who took the airplanes in charge, as well as several shop workers, led by the airport man-of-all-jobs, came around the edge of the staging, while toby tew pushed forward to join the group. toby, the theatre manager, with his sense of the way to handle an audience, stepped forward. the leader had arrived; but he was on the side of the threatened chums. his brief speech, begun with a half-laughing, "well, gentlemen, the show's over," and ending with a cleverly suggested hint that they might see something in the morning papers that would compel them to come to the palace to see "red blood and blue," caused the crowd to suppose the whole affair was what theatre folks call "a publicity stunt," devised to attract attention, bring about talk and advertise the picture. "thanks for the way you handled that," mr. mcleod remarked as the crowd, looking a trifle sheepish, thinking itself hoaxed into attending and helping along a publicity drive, melted away. "thanks for the 'ad,'" toby chuckled. "i saw a way to turn it to my own advantage--but, of course, i thought of it to get our young friends out of hot water." "thanks, a lot," garry said. "they might have thought it would be a good time to give some harum-scarum fellows a ducking--or worse." he became very earnest. "but, honestly, mr. tew--and all of you folks--" doc, the handlers, the control chief and many friends, heard his statement at the hangar door, "--we meant only to try to lay the ghost of the spectre in the clouds, that was all, by showing how it was done." he was believed, and presently the group dwindled to the chums, the airport executive, doc and toby. to their great surprise they were joined by the pilot whose liking for "spooks" had started the chums into the whole affair. limping badly, with a heavy swathing of bandages visible even under his loose trousers, on his left thigh, scott came slowly in. "well!" he greeted them, "i see there's been some excitement." "why, scott! we thought you were pretty bad when uncle took you to the hospital last night. glad you came out so quickly," cried doc. "oh--i had a good 'break,'" the pilot said, but his face showed his strain, for he winced and drew wrinkles around his set lips as pain seemed to attend each halting step. he had been grazed, he told them, by the flying propeller, when it had flung itself loose from its shaft on the dart, the night before. the doctors and nurses, he explained, had patched him up--"battered, but not busted!" was his summing up of his condition. "they let me out tonight, and when i heard the siren i got a lift, but couldn't get to you through the crowd." he was optimistic about the situation as it was explained to him by don, garry and chick. "i don't think they'll do more than suspend don's license for six months, at most," he said, "and then only if the postal authorities see fit to notify the licensing bureau. nobody got hurt, you see." "but six months would be a long time without any flying." don was despondent. "not very!" argued doc morgan. "it would soon go past." "but so will the eight hours between now--it's near one o'clock--and the time we have to be at the inspector's office," chick declared. "if we could find the real ghost, and take him--or it--along, we'd be able to keep don in the air--where he loves to be!" "if the detectives can't work it out, and the rest of us can't make head or tail of things," scott grinned and then winced, dropping to a chair in the shop doorway, "how do you expect to manage it--in eight hours or so?" "i don't know," chick looked very serious, "but we've got an awful lot of clues if we can fit them together--there's the rubber outfit, if we can locate it--oilskins, gloves--they'd have finger prints to test." "yes--" doc glanced suggestively toward toby, "and the owner of a boathouse and dories, who would be likely to wear oilskins--he might be questioned." tew glowered at him. "there's that tracing, if we could locate it," garry added. "there might be fingerprints on it, too." toby took his revenge. "yes," he admitted, "they might be on the bottle--the one a certain person emptied or spilled, the night he was where the tracing was found!" "when it comes to that," doc flashed back, "somebody had his initials on that--er--tracing, i recall," he glanced meaningly toward the control chief. "casting suspicion and making mean remarks won't get the boys along," scott hinted. "have you any other clues? i don't suppose you searched the boathouse thoroughly--or the helicopter, maybe?" "we were too excited." garry turned quickly. "that makes me think--we might bring in the projector and the film cases--there might be a clue we didn't notice in the dark. they ought to be kept in a locker, anyway--like the others----" "what others?" scott leaned forward, and then, perhaps recalled by pain to his injuries, he groaned, and slumped back, his lips set. "we found--well, never mind," chick was about to tell their whole story when he caught sight of don's expression. his eyes swung to follow those of his chum. at the hangar doorway, on either side, were two intent, coppery-red faces, one old and seamed, the other young and alert. the others followed the line of don's gaze. "in the name of all-possessed!" exclaimed toby tew, "if it isn't the indians!" out rushed the crowd--down the runways toward the line of cottages backing onto yards near the swamp edge, raced the quarry. they outdistanced the pursuit. old though he was, ti-o-ga kept pace with his son. the black dark of swamp, where none knew of any existing path, stopped the chase. "funny, wasn't it," remarked don, as he returned to find scott, unable to join them, waiting eagerly for results. "i never thought much about those two indians--not in connection with this. but--that old one is smart--only---why would they haunt the swamp, around here? i can't imagine they have any grudge against my uncle. uncle bruce doesn't know them, i'm sure." "maybe tew wasn't so far off, earlier--how about it, toby?--saying this was all a 'publicity stunt' for his picture!" the theatre owner smiled a strange, unrevealing smile. "i wonder--" reflected scott. "good stuff for the newspapers, if he did work it--but dangerous for the pilots! man who never lived! a queer, disappearing map. ghosts in clouds. when do you 'spring' the advertising part, eh, toby?" toby was not permitted to reply. don, turning, saw chick rush excitedly up from the staging where the helicopter was securely staked and tied to the waterside posts. "look!" chick was so excited that he galloped toward them, capering and waving a large, round container, of some shiny metal, as he advanced. in the case where they had found the projector and lamp, he cried, he had, on searching, discovered a can of film. "i opened it to see if it was the same film we used," he reached the group. scott started up from his chair, doc came close, his face set and eager. toby, with a muttered, "gosh-a-mighty!" became very attentive. the injury of the pilot must have reminded him of its pain, for he sat down quickly again, wiping his brow. "what did you find?" demanded garry. "unexposed film!" "un--film that hasn't been exposed?" chick nodded. "but how do you know?" don cried. "film is all of the same yellowish color till its been developed. it could be exposed--and--oh, dear! i suppose you opened the can and there might have been enough light to fog the film--and we may have lost a very telling clue!" "maybe not!" cried scott. "take it up, and develop the first few 'frames' and see. you know how to handle the time-and-temperature tank powders, chick. you go and develop some of that film. don, will you and garry help me to my boarding place? i'm--all in!" they took him, limping painfully, to his bedroom. there he turned. "good glory!" he muttered, "fellow--i forgot! doc--and toby--and vance--and those two indians--are about the place--and chick's all alone with that--maybe it's a clue! sorry i brought you. go back, fellows! run!" they ran! chapter xxvi a "flying film" up to the dark room don hurried with garry. at their knock a muffled voice came through the panels, hardly to be understood because of the weather-stripping used to make the joining of door and frame light-tight. "he says he can't let us in," don caught the faint murmur and interpreted it. "taking the film from the tank, i guess," garry responded. "we'll have to wait." five minutes passed. then the door was opened. chick, with hands stained by contact with pyro and other chemicals, showed a disappointed face. "no go!" he greeted his chums. "the hangar light fogged the film. it was light-struck, all right." "how about another test, from the inner end of the roll?" garry suggested. "we can try that," agreed chick. into the intense blackness of the room they crowded, and, by sense of touch don extracted from the inner spool of the roll, an inch or so of film, while garry washed out the developing tank used for the films they took of new craft for making half-tone engravings, pictures for circulars, catalogues and "trade paper" illustrations. chick, mixing a fresh charge of pyro, with sodium sulphite and the right amount of carbonate, from ready-prepared packets, enclosed the film in a roll of rubber-edged material that let the developer seep in but keep the fabric from touching the delicate film surface. "get the tank lid tight," he warned garry after the solution had been mixed and poured in, the film container being swished up and down to get the film full impregnated. "i have to light the bulb to time it and get the temperature of the mixture by the thermometer you just had in the tank." "go ahead--it's tight." they allowed twenty minutes for development; then the light was extinguished and the door, opened for ventilation, was closed. in darkness chick removed the film, handling its container gingerly as he immersed it in the hypo fixing bath to "set" the image. they gave it about half a minute of darkness in the fixing bath. "now we can see it," he decided. "switch on the----" the door swung sharply outward. there came a blinding flash, and with it the dense smoke of some pungent, gas-reeking chemical. eyes smarted and watered. staggering back from the surprise attack, totally unexpected, don, garry and chick took an instant to cower back against the wall, shielding their faces. there was the play of a flashlamp about the room. then, before either of them could recover from astonishment and from the choking smudge enough to move, there came the clank of some metal, and the slam of the door. "oh!" chick gasped, and then said no more, choking in the smoke of the bomb or whatever poured its dense, stifling smoke up, filling the small, almost airtight compartment. it took garry, nearest the door, half a minute of choked, almost suffocated effort, fumbling in the dark, to get the handle of the door and twist it. the door was not locked; but, as he dragged chick out and don leaped over the fuming, pungent smoke-flare that had been ignited and dropped in the dark room, garry saw that the rubber catch-all mat on the floor was burning. the designing room, with its unreplaceable, valuable files, was adjacent to the dark room. below, in the workshops, "dope" and other dreadfully inflammable materials lay stored. in the hangar next it were airplanes worth thousands of dollars, including a fourteen-ton, double-bodied seaplane that had been ordered by the mexican government. "one go one way, the other to the bank stairway--or the fire escape!" he screamed to don and chick. himself, ignoring the lost film--knowing well that was what had vanished in the hands of their adversary--garry raced for a fire extinguisher. choked, blinded, staggering, don and chick heard, but had difficulty getting their bearings. garry ran, full speed, back, to upset the chemical fire extinguisher so that its contents, mixing, would generate a gas to drown out the small, but menacing fire that had already touched the matting running from the designing room corridor across that side of the space. don staggered to the window, drawing in great lungfuls of fresh air. gasping, choked, he strained his eyes toward the grounds outside. chick, at the corridor door, looked up and down, bracing against the dizziness that swung him on his unsteady legs. garry drenched the matting, the smoking flare, the floor and walls in danger. the fire out, he dropped the extinguisher, and turning, raced, with don and chick, recovering rapidly, at his heels. he, too, was choked; but at the first opening of the door garry had, fortunately, thrown a sleeve protectingly across his face, so that he had breathed less of the fumes than his companions. up to the control tower balcony raced garry. don went down to the hangars. chick took the midway corridor, searching each office. "there he goes," shouted a voice. garry, rushing to the balcony, saw a fleet figure running across the grounds, out of the good light, but discernible. into the searchlight garry ran, while don and chick, hearing his shouts of response to the voice from below, went, careless of risk to limb, down the stairways at front and back of the big building. garry, struggling to get the searchlight turned in the proper direction to pick out the fleeing figure, to identify it in a flare of vivid light, explained swiftly to the control chief on duty. by the time the light was in position, on the roof, and its mechanism adjusted, the beam probing the velvety dark night picked up a scene of swift action. don and chick, close to the hangars, were running, full tilt, out of the grounds, along the roadway. a hundred feet beyond them were two heavier figures, pounding along at a slower pace, so that don and chick soon met, passed and out-stripped them. just beside the cottages that were boarding places and providers of furnished rooms for airport mechanicians, shop workers, pilots and others, a fleetly running, light form swerved out of the light just as garry got to the balcony again. behind a house the figure vanished. it had some round object clutched in the crook of an arm, garry thought. standing there he watched until don and chick reached the spot. in the bright rays of the light they soon returned, waving arms in dismay. while they stood, undecided, a window of the nearer cottage flew up. garry could not hear the voice, but he recognized scott. he watched as don and chick, calling upward, waited, received an answer, turned and raced back toward the hangars. the upswung arm of don, the upward pointing finger of chick, told garry what was wanted. down the stairways he plunged. "quick! henry--help me!" he shouted, running toward the dragonfly. don appeared at the door. "that's right!" he saw don pushing at the tail of the aircraft. "what's it all about?" demanded the mechanician, to whom all this in-and-out pushing of the "busses" was mystifying. "scott called down to us. he was dozing when the light woke him. he got a glimpse of the man running away," don informed him. "it was the indian--john ti!" contributed chick, putting his weight behind the wing of the ship as he helped get it through the doors. "well--then he went into the swamps!" the man said. "that's the only place he could get to from back of that house." "i know it!" puffed garry. "what do you want this crate for, then? you don't expect to see a single, indian kid, hiding in a pitch-dark swamp!" "no!" gasped don, "we don't. but--henry--we left the dart tied there!" "get all the flares you can find!" garry urged chick, himself busy looking over the fuel gauges and oil supply. chick raced away, fully recovered. they got the dragonfly into the air in short order. three determined youths, each tightly strapped in place, each with a supply of signal flares, of rockets, of flash bombs, of white, red, blue and green verey lights, went forth into the sky lanes, determined that their clue, considered important by scott, should be recovered. in the swamp a lithe figure, watching, seeing the ship coming over, muttered. "he shan't get away!" don whispered, half aloud, to himself, in the dragonfly. "he shan't get away!" muttered the lithe figure swiftly untying the dart beside the boathouse wharf. to which an older, more deeply copper-colored form grunted agreement, whirling the fight propeller to "contact!" then began a most peculiar sky chase! chapter xxvii white wings and red holding the dragonfly barely higher than the wires he must top as he took off, don sent the craft toward the swamp. as soon as they swept beyond the cottages that backed their small yards on the undrained swamp, chick sent overside his first white-light parachute flare. "it's only for safety's sake," he muttered. "that young indian, if he knows the swamp at all, has had time to get across to the dart. but he might try to fool us, and stop to hide. not likely--but we must be sure!" he, and garry, watched over the side, a little afraid that with the craft of his forefathers the red-skinned john might so cleverly crouch in the eel grass that they might not see him. don dropped the nose, however, allowing the dragonfly barely to skim the low patches of water, and clumps of gently waving marsh vegetation. as soon as they got beyond the vivid glow of the light slowly floating down toward the marsh, don climbed the ship three hundred feet, came around, side-slipping to lose altitude as soon after the next flare was ignited and launched as he could. by these tactics, continued for several minutes, the three chums satisfied themselves that the indian was at least not visible; and if he remained hidden for that long they had him! "by now," garry decided, as he strained his eyes overside, "the police must have gotten out here to surround the swamp. mr. mcleod agreed to get the chief to bring all his force, and to send out his private detectives, and get every waterman to help as guides." don, climbing away from the final flare, gestured ahead. as he gave a glance backward he saw garry's signal of agreement. they must get within easier guarding distance of the dart at the piling of the boathouse. as quickly as he saw that the swamp was being surrounded, the indian might resort to flying for escape. it was not known whether or not he could fly the dart; but don surmised that he could. he had managed the helicopter. when they climbed, steadily going ahead, to a good altitude over the swamp garry turned his head, observing that chick saw the same thing that he did as a white, floating flare lighted up the terrain beneath them. there were two figures visible on the planking of the outer wharf at no pains to conceal themselves. instead, they were feverishly unfastening the light airplane, and don, at garry's touch, nodded to show that he already was aware of the fact. "that indian can fly!" don muttered. he braced his nerves for an unusual effort. chick, too, was taut with excitement; his nerves tingled with expectancy; he would have little to do, yet he must be ready to play what part might be possible. garry, less excitable, was inclined to feel misgivings. "what i understand about ship design makes me think this won't be as much a test of skill as it will be of performance," he murmured to himself, not having the gossport apparatus because it had been left in the dart. "it is going to be a test between 'controllability' and 'maneuverability' this time," garry added softly. he realized that airplane design taught the truth that a craft with a certain type of stabilizing fins, and control surfaces, might be very safe and steady in the air, and yet not respond quickly to its stick and rudder, because stability carried to that point might compel a sacrifice of quick answering to control movements. "that's the dragonfly," he thought. light, speedy, almost "touchy" in its easy response to control, the dart, on the other hand, lacked that safety margin. the dragonfly could not go into and come out of aerial "stunt" positions with the same facility that the dart had. the dart, though, was so "touchy" that, with its margin of quick answering to controls, quick "stunting" possibilities, it was far less easy to keep in stable flying control. "we can't out-maneuver the dart, if they once get into the air," garry decided, "but, then, the dart isn't as easy to hold steady as our 'bus is. one thing in our favor will be that don knows this ship better than john understands the dart. and--with don against john," he thought, whimsically, "it's a queer thing that our dragonfly has wings of white and the dart is lacquered and doped in red." he smiled, being of a calm, humorous character. "white wings or red?" he added. "we'll have to see what we see!" don, almost over the boathouse at the moment, gave a swift look to estimate the progress made by the two beneath him. "it will take a minute to warm up that engine," he decided. "we can get into position!" his plan was to make a swoop from a fair altitude, just timed to take the steadier ship across the path of the other, and slightly above it, as it took off. "the propeller 'wash' will throw him out of control too low to catch that touchy dart," he told himself. "it will put them down before they get high enough to be hurt badly. i don't want to be the means of injuring anybody, if i can help it." he came around, and gave a quick glance to see the progress of the starting dart. in the vivid light from a flare that chick had put over he saw that the red-winged craft was beginning to skip over the water. it was headed into the wind. "why don't you tell him to dive?" screamed chick, shivering with excitement and biting at his lip in vexation. garry had deliberately ignored prodding by his younger comrade. "now!" garry touched don. has calmer nature had held in check his impulse to move too soon. exactly in sympathy with garry's touch, don decided that the time to plunge, to rush past and above the dart, and then to zoom away into the sky for a turn, and an observation, was just right. full-gun, with nose lowered, the dragonfly dashed toward its target, coming up, in a gentle curve, just timed to sweep the turbulent air disturbance of their propeller through the area into which the dart was just beginning to rise. they swept with roaring engine across the sheet of water, their own pontoons and wheel-trucks not twenty feet away from the red wings. up they zoomed; don brought the nose around with as sharp a bank as he deemed safe. all three looked, expecting to see the dart upset, and its occupant or the pair, if the older indian had joined his son for escape, struggling in the murky water. instead, the indian, with the cleverness that he had learned, as they discovered at another time, from enlistment at a navy training school, had cut the gun, settling into the water again. he had anticipated their maneuver. before they could get around and before don could decide on whether to repeat the dive or to discover some other way of preventing ascent, the dart strung in a boiling curve, one wingtip pontoon barely touching water to help it swing, and, with the wind, leaving in the water a hot, white seethe of broken wake, slanted sidewise to the breeze and rose. with skill and quick yielding to control, the dart swerved around into the wind. straight away, climbing rapidly, the small craft went. after it, gunning up to top speed, went the dragonfly. on a level, don's speed about equaled the climbing speed of the angle taken by the indian. "will red wings get away from white wings?" murmured garry. "catch him, don!" screeched chick, unable to hold his quivering nerves as they made him tremble with eagerness. he felt like a coursing greyhound, urged on a trail but held by a restraining leash, willing to use his own effort, but restrained. garry, more controlled, watched. along the channel swept the strange chase. higher came the dart. straight at it, but some hundreds of yards to the rear, tore the dragonfly, white wings chasing red. "when he gets on our level," don murmured through clenched teeth, "his speed will get him away. if there was anything to do----" answering its easy controls as he stopped, surprised, the dart, almost at their altitude, swerved. don, not expecting a turn, kicked rudder nevertheless, to swing on the new flight path. the dart, still climbing, made almost a complete, degree turn. at the half-way point, almost half a circle accomplished, don went around on wingtip, to get the nose on a new point--he meant to make a direct diagonal across the turn, to try to meet, or forestall, the dart. but the smaller ship's pilot, with gun full open, nose up, seemed almost to leap upward before he reached the stalling point. he had caused don to lose the advantage of altitude. "clever!" don conceded, seeing the effect of the ruse. "now he has only to fly straight away, and we will lose him in twenty miles." chick uttered a cry of surprise. garry's teeth shut tight in dismay. don caught his breath living up to the name, dart, the lighter ship went into a wing-over, a maneuver by which, dropping a wing, and thus executing a turn, as it regained flying margin of speed, it exactly reversed the direction of flight. the dart, instead of going away from the dragonfly, had completely altered the conditions: it was coming at the bigger craft. just above, and right over the dragonfly came the other, full-gun. don felt the propeller stream tear at his right wing. there his own ability, coupled with the great steadiness of the ship he handled, saved the situation. gently, not forcing or over-controlling, he recovered stability. "why!" don screamed, "he tried to upset--us!" the pursued had turned pursuer! wingtip went down, came up, steadied. don again had control. over went chick's next flare, to light up the sky. they picked up the enemy ship, quickly. "he's made an immelmann turn!" shouted garry to don. by that maneuver, half a dive, half a climb, to get the ship to the top of a loop, and then a barrel roll, half-way, to bring it again on its proper keel, again the dart was in position to swoop. "he wants to drive us down, i think!" yelled garry. although he could not hear for the roar of their own engine, don also saw that the greater maneuverability of the other gave him an advantage they had not counted on. thinking they were to be the hounds, and the indian the hare, the chums found the conditions reversed. the hare, in his ruddy-winged craft, proposed to hunt down his adversary. don, realizing the danger to those with him, desiring no risk of life or limb or property, in the light of the flare, not yet dying, held up both hands in the old war-sign, "kamerad!" and swiftly caught his stick and throttle again. in the other ship the arm of the pilot pointed downward. he did not, however, try to enforce the order to descend by any more swoops: instead, he maneuvered the light craft to a level with, and not fifty feet beyond the dragonfly. don, uncomprehending, puzzled that they were being ordered down, when it had been his expectation to give that order to the other, let the nose drop a trifle, cut the gun, and went on a gentle glide, showing his intention to obey. the young pilot, red of face, skilful of control, flew along, and as they came almost on a level with the flare, burning still, he turned his head for a glower of triumph toward his victims. don, his eyes turned that way to watch the wing separation, saw a look of amazement change the triumphant scowl. the indian pilot put out and waved an arm--he pointed toward the airport. don nodded, banked, submissively, so astonished and mystified that he could not further plan. why had that coppery face shown astonishment? it was a puzzle added to many problems. with the other craft riding hard, above them, circling swiftly, the captors, now captives, obeyed the signal already given. over the edges of the swamps, searchers' parties showed lights as they realized that the chase had ended, as they supposed. to them it appeared that a ship was being compelled by a skilful adversary to go back. that was true--but it was the pursuing ship that had capitulated. hardly had don run out of speed, and, with garry and chick, leaped out to clear the runway, before the lighter dart came home. "for the sake of all that's mysterious!" called don as the indian cut his ignition. "we thought you were trying to escape. what made you turn on us?" "i thought you were the pilot i'm after--and i meant to get the man who stole our treasure chart!" again the chums were stupefied. chapter xxviii the story of a map turning away, the red-skinned pilot helped his father to the runway. the old medicine man was stiff from the cramped position, and somewhat shaken by his "stunting" trip through the air lanes. chick, belligerent and impulsive, followed john. "what did you mean by throwing that smoke flare in on us?" he demanded. "you might have suffocated us!" "i did not throw anything!" the young indian retorted, cool and quiet, as he steadied his father. "we watched, that is all. some one else is to blame, not i. and--when i find him!----" garry, seeing his face, felt glad that he was not the target of an emotion that contorted the copper-colored face into the mask of a veritable fury. "let's go to the hangar," don suggested. "maybe we can talk this out." "come!" agreed ti-o-ga, moving away. doc morgan, toby tew and some of the handlers who had stayed around discussing the exciting night's events, looked disappointed. "i think i'd like to come, too," observed toby. "in the name of all-possessed! this is a queer business." "it certainly is," doc agreed, and without invitation he ranged himself alongside of the theatre manager as the latter went with the party. mr. mcleod and the control chief joined them in the designing room. chairs and benches were brought. everybody found a seat. chick, before he sat down, hurried to the developing room, as don supposed, to estimate the damage done. chick went in, did something, came out. water was heard in the washing tanks. "what did you mean by saying you thought we were the ones who had stolen a map?" demanded garry, as chick took his place again. readily enough, the indian began to explain. "my father has met a good many strange people, because he is so well-known for his cures," he began. "a good many years ago he nursed an old sailor, and when he found he couldn't cure him, father told him the truth. the man was grateful, though, because he knew father had done his best. he knew he couldn't live, and he turned over to us a map." the map, he explained, was old and tattered. it showed, the sailor had claimed, a place in the long island swamps where, during a bad gale, many years before that, a pirate brig had been blown at high tide inland so far that it had become caught in the mud, and that ship, thus held prisoner, had been sucked down in a spot even then known as the devil's sinkhole. "and, as the man told us," john continued, "the ship had some chests of jewels and gold and silver aboard." he had been given a map, and the story, by his father. coming down from generation to generation, the tale and the chart had yielded nothing to searchers. "jewels--gold--silver!" chick spoke in awed tones. "a treasure ship!" "yes," the young indian nodded. "i was a schoolboy then. i went to carlisle, and then enlisted in a cadet training school for naval pilots, but several years ago, when i was about to be graduated, the hard times struck the world and the navy decided not to take on any more flyers, and i was too young to become a commercial pilot, so i gave up my course and went to work at whatever i could get." "many an army and navy cadet has been disappointed by learning he couldn't keep on, after his enlistment term," commented mr. mcleod. garry, who had always felt a respect for the older man, now began to feel a strong liking for the straight-forward indian, his son. "i went to work at a long island moving picture studio as an extra," john went on. "there i saw a chance to write and sell a story--and we made quite a good amount of money by playing in it." "we enjoyed your acting in 'red blood and blue,'" don commented. "but what about the map?" chick broke in. "while we were working at long island city," john informed him, "i used my spare time to study the swamps, and discovered that there was a spot, near this airport, known as devil's sink. i was in the swamp a great deal, but if there had ever been a ship, the mud had covered every trace of it. we gave up, father and i. but--and this is why i've told you all this--because i took an interest in aviation, i was around the seaplane base that was here before the airport was begun. i met some of the flyers. i suppose they wondered about our investigations, but of course we kept close mouths." "any of us would!" agreed garry. "father went back to the catskills, to continue his doctoring," john completed his astonishing revelation, "i went 'on tour' with the first of our films, making 'personal appearances.' that was before we had the smoke-trick scene thought out. "when i came home father told me about several of the airport folks, who had been visiting him. one was a pilot who said he was in the mail and commercial end of it----" "a mail flyer!" cried chick. "well--that's interesting!" "you mean--smith?" don inquired, eagerly. "that's just the trouble," john stated. "he came while father was off doctoring a man in the back country. he called himself that. my mother isn't very quick with her old eyes. he had his flying togs on, too, and she couldn't describe him closely except that he was tall, and thin." "and so was the mail flyer who came in tonight," chick cried. "the one we scared, so that he turned on us and tried to force the helicopter out of control. we're getting close to something--i think!" the man they discussed, apparently loitering outside the door, came in. "is that so?" he said sharply, defiantly. "i can tell you that you will be getting close to trouble if you start accusing me----" "what's all the excitement this time?" scott, limping down the hall, dropped gratefully into a chair that don vacated. "i see you got the indians----" "they got us, you mean!" explained garry. "well--any way you want it. did you recover--the film?" "no!" "didn't they have it!" "no!" john turned to answer courteously, "we had no film." "you're interrupting a thrilling treasure story," warned don. he and garry, with interruptions from chick, quickly put the pilot who liked spooks in possession of most of the important points. "well! it's wonderful!" scott commented. "we'll soon have that gibbering spook in the open. i'll keep still, though. go ahead, mr. ti." "there isn't much more," the young indian stated. "a mail flyer came to our place, while my father was away, and wasn't very easy to describe, because of his flying togs. but one thing mother did tell us--" "what?" chick was on the edge of his seat. "he had a little vest-pocket camera!" "he took pictures," commented garry. "i wonder what for?" "if you want my guess," don spoke up, "he wanted to get the locality clear in his mind, to study out how to go back--and--get the map." "worse than that!" the young indian told them. "father thought little of the camera side of his visit until, first doc morgan, and then mr. toby tew, and then mr. scott, came up, doctoring or for some reason that was covered by that excuse. he began to wonder, and wrote me. i cancelled my picture house engagements and went home--just before you two young chaps came along with the injured pilot." don and garry nodded. their arrival, and the story he gathered about the swamp, and the odd apparition haunting the air, had made the old, wise medicine man wonder, john added. he had deduced, sagely enough, the real motive for the apparition. it was, as the indians believed, no ghost-scare devised to ruin the airport owner and his venture. "we decided," john stated, "the ghost was being made to create a big scare among pilots and to keep them away from the swamp!" "i think you are right!" garry exclaimed. "i see it, now! if the flyer wanted to study that swamp--he'd do it from the air. he wouldn't want other pilots coming along to catch him flying to and fro--but, at that--how would he know what to look for--and where?" "the camera!" the indian said. "father went to his cupboard, where the map was stored, and found that while it had not been stolen, actually, it had been displaced. he had it under some other papers----" "was he sure he remembered just how it had been left?" asked don. "i got memory--never forget!" the old medicine man remarked briefly. "yes," john agreed, "father knew just how it had been--and it was not the same. it had been found--the look showed scratches where it had been picked, and then re-locked. that pilot had taken a picture of the chart!" "that accounts for the tracing on thin paper!" chick saw a clue. "he had to enlarge it, to study it, if he made the picture with a vest-pocket camera. that film isn't much larger than the film in a motion picture camera--he enlarged it, and from the enlargements on tracing paper, he copied it--and then camouflaged the map on the tracing by adding the wings and struts and frames. and--then he slipped in the hangars and removed the tracing from mr. vance's drawer, and took the blue-print i had made--so we haven't got far, after all." "no," garry agreed, and turned once more to john. "what did you do about it?" "came here, kept quiet, watched. i kept sending father word, and tonight, early, somebody told me that mail pilot who had been up at our place once was flying the mail! i lost my self-control. i was in a rage, i hated that fellow. he had cheated, falsified his errand, imposed on my mother's good nature----" "just a minute," scott broke in, "who told you he was coming in?" "i got the call at the theatre--just before the 'presentation' was on the stage," john stated. "he called me up--told me the flyer who had been at our place--and he knew i was looking for the man, he said--was flying in the mail." "did he say who was calling?" don was excited. the eyes of the young indian turned, covered the group. they rested on doc morgan. "you're crazy!" the-man-of-all-work leaped from his chair. "i won't stand for that, i won't. you shan't accuse me. i never called--i did not!" "you did--i think i recognize the voice!" cried john. "and was it you who flew over in the helicopter, out of the swamp, and tried to drive us out of control with rockets?" demanded garry. "yes. my father was in the moving picture theatre, in the room with the projectors, and he wheeled the spot lamp across to a window, and used it to light up and blind you! but i thought you were the man who had taken our property." "so that's how the queer searchlight came into our eyes!" snapped chick. "you know what sort of crime that is? endangering flyers!" "we thought you were the mail 'plane," john said regretfully. "just as i thought you were the culprit trying to get away just now when i used the dart to drive you down. but--i'm sorry." "you'd better be sorry you've accused me, too!" stormed doc morgan. "yes," scott agreed, "i'm not sure that isn't all made up! what were you doing at the airport, just before the film was stolen from our young friends? i saw you--running!" chick sprang up. "it doesn't matter!" he cried. "let's stop accusing--and find out! the pieces we saved are about washed by now. come on--don-garry!" chapter xxix clues in camouflage smelling still of the fumes from the smoke flare, which someone--doc morgan probably--had cleared out, the dark room was close and unpleasant as chick closed its door and, switching on the white printing lamp, faced his two friends. "let's be very quiet," he said, earnestly. "i was only half listening to the arguments. while they went on i thought of a way to draw the real 'ghost of mystery airport' into the open--or--into the darkroom!" "i don't understand," garry spoke softly, although the door was tight. "you mean by showing what we had clipped out of the film?" don asked. "it was just put in the fixing bath--how do you know the fumes of the chemicals in the smoke bomb didn't ruin it--stain it or fog it?" "i don't care a whack of a stick about the clippings," chick stated. "this is my plan. when i was in here before, i put the bits of film in the wash water, but they were all dirt, and chemicals. i don't believe they're worth bothering with. but--i know that the 'ghost' is among the people in the designing room. doc followed toby. mr. tew volunteered to come and listen. the air mail pilot was loitering around, listening. the two indians----" "oh, i'm sure it's one or the other," garry agreed, "but that doesn't tell us your plan or how we can see which one it is. for my part, i'm in favor of looking at the film clippings. if they show us that we have the right idea, that a flyer has been taking pictures over the swamp, it will prove he is looking for the treasure, and not just trying to ruin don's uncle----" "oh, we know the motive--treasure hunting," chick retorted. "that's been our trouble, before. we've tired so hard to show what was being done, and how, that we couldn't take time and brains to discover--who!" garry was a trifle nettled. "i suppose you are going to discover 'who' without even looking at the clue scott thought might be in that undeveloped film." "i'm going to make him--discover himself!" even don stared. garry laughed, a little scoffingly. "all right!" chick took the implied unbelief good-humoredly. "think this over: if you had flung a smoke bomb, and gotten away with evidence, and you heard somebody say they had some already developed--what would you do?" "run!" chuckled garry. "i wouldn't!" don saw chick's argument. "i'd be uneasy, and uncertain, and i'd worry until, finally, i might feel compelled to come and see just how much you had against me!" "that's my plan!" retorted chick. garry agreed with don. it was clever of the youngest chum. "while we wait, we might as well see if we have evidence, or whatever it may be--against anybody!" don added. chick lifted the wet film from its washing bath, handling it carefully by the edges to avoid spoiling the wet, swollen, delicate surface emulsion containing the pictures. holding it up to the light, he showed a smoky, already somewhat distorted image in one piece of the clipped film. "i can see--letters," don said, peering toward the light. "there's an 'a' followed by a figure 'one' and then--it's spoiled by scraping on the floor when the fixing trap got upset." "just on the edge of the last 'frame' of moving picture film, you can see a flat, opaque blur," garry commented. "that's an aerial picture, taken from above! i've seen those air photographs in the movies. what's to prove this is a picture of our swamp? it's all fogged!" "i count more on our 'ghost' coming here than on that film," chick declared. "i'll put that in a drying clip, and hang it behind the tanks in case we can use it sometime. now, here's the other clipping!" the second one he exhibited was more clear. "that's the swamp, all right," garry commented. "the first one is one of the smoked-up parts we threw away after the first trial. but this one is the swamp, and no mistake. that is," he corrected himself, "it's a section of it, along the water front. see how the shore curves in and out--and the beginnings of crab channel and the other smaller inlets?" chick and don assented; but the pictures gave them nothing new to go by, more than assurance that somebody had flown over the swamps to take air films. of course, as chick argued, that fitted in with the idea that the mysterious "somebody" had put the projector head and the other things into a locker of the pilots' quarters as a means to throwing suspicion on another, as the key in the control chief's old coat and vest proved. the film with it was not the same as that used for the apparition in the cloud. it was only a "blind," as chick argued. also, as don added, the film could have been taken by the control chief as well as by another, except that he was seldom away daytimes. "but doc morgan is," garry remarked. "and toby tew is in and around the swamps all summer, and could easily hire some pilot from another airport to fly him--nobody would have paid much attention, because the engineers were using airplanes, too. and i think it was to stop the engineers from draining the swamp before he had taken the treasure that our 'ghost' worked his spectre-in-the-clouds!" he added. "sh-h-h-h!" chick caught each by an arm. "listen!" footsteps sounded on the floor outside, approaching. were they hesitating? did they echo with such caution because they belonged to a guilty body? slowly they came closer. there was a knock on the door. "when i open the door--grab him!" chick urged. he waited. a hand tested the door knob. the door rattled a little. "open up!" came a muffled voice. "wait! let him get anxious!" a thumping came on the door. garry and don grew tense. chick's hand was on the bolt. it shot back. "now!" out they dashed, to encircle, to grapple with a figure standing off guard. "here! stop that!" the voice, deep and curt, made them draw back, look up at the form and face they released in amazed disappointment. they had captured the chief of police! "uh--er--" don stammered, "we--we expected--the--the 'ghost!'" "if you can prove you've caught him you can have my badge," the good-natured officer chuckled. "as a matter of fact, i came in to see what was the result of your investigations. my men are all in the swamp, awaiting orders. we saw you bring in the indians--they're all out in the other room still, waiting for a report; your folks are, i mean. "what have you got in the way of evidence, clues or proofs?" he asked. they told him and showed him their bits of film. "wouldn't stick in any court," he stated. "any finger prints are washed off long since, and the pictures could be cut from any news reel picture of airplane flights for observation purposes. no, boys----" "we thought the 'ghost' would come to see what we had discovered," chick said lamely. "well, i'm not the 'ghost.' you'll have to try some other scheme." "don't you think this 'a' and the figure 'one' might help?" asked garry, indicating the smoked film, dimly showing the letters. "it might--if there was anything to tie it up with." "if only we had the tracing of the indian's map," don said ruefully. "or the blue-print chick made--that had some sort of complicated figures on it--" "where is it--where is either one?" "they were stolen, chief." "yes!--" chick's face became suddenly vivid with excitement, "yes!--but--when i made the blue-print, i picked up two pieces of paper and only discovered it after i had exposed the paper under the tracing!" hastily he switched off the white lamp, putting on the ruby light. "i put the other sheet back, because it didn't show much--but, you all know, there is a way to force up a stronger image--with intensifier chemicals." feverishly chick searched in the laboratory cupboard. garry aided him, while don got the trays cleaned, and the chief came in and closed the door. half an hour later mr. mcleod caused the door to be opened to him. "what's going on?" "look!" don's trembling finger indicated a faint, but clearly discernible figure on a sheet of printing paper. the blue-print had been developed as far as it was possible to bring out the figure. then a greatly under-exposed camera photograph had been made, on sensitive film, and this, by process of development known to chick and the rest, intensified the lights and shadows which were more "contrasty" because of deliberate under-exposure. the result was a readable print. there was the camouflaged map, apparently the hull outline of some old-fashioned ship, seagoing brig or privateer, with its sharply cut-under prow and overhanging stern, its roughly outlined deck and wavering waterline. over that, distinguishable because in an ink that was dark and printed out whiter, was the outline of the airplane sketch. "camouflage!" mr. mcleod agreed, "but----" "excuse me, uncle!" don interrupted. "if you will study that design, carefully, the way we have been doing for the past three minutes, and remember all that has happened, you'll see that there are two clues in the camouflage. but we don't want to stop to explain them. we want the 'ghost' to play his last 'engagement'--and--we think he will!" then they walked out, in a group, to the larger room where the unsuspecting culprit waited. chapter xxx baited wings never had toby tew "staged" at his palace a better "presentation" than the one the chums were about to enact. with the police chief aiding, they had worked out a plan that must almost certainly bring their quarry to them. don, with excited face, raced through the designing section of the big hangar's upper floor, at the end. doc saw him; toby saw him; so did others, under suspicion. "all right, chief!" he shouted over his shoulder, "sorry we haven't room in the dragonfly to take you along; but we'll signal with a set of red, white, and blue flares when we find the treas--after we're through." he pretended to correct his supposed slip. old ti-o-ga barred his way to the door. "you find?" he grunted. "think so!" don admitted. "tell you better after i've made sure!" "where you think you find?" the old indian stood firm. don was secretly delighted: this gave him an opportunity. "you see," he explained, "after a photograph was made of your map, it was enlarged, and a tracing was made, of the larger size. that tracing was disguised with airplane parts, but it still looked like the hull of some kind of boat, a brig, or a brigantine. the 'ghost' was plotting the swamp out in narrow strips. the design enabled him to put lines across, looking like inch and foot divisions--but they were all sections of the swamp. you see, he flew to and fro, over the swamp, taking moving pictures. then he kept a projector head here, in a locker, and when nobody was on this floor, at night, he'd develop his films, dry them in our dark room, and then project them by putting the projector head in front of our enlarging camera lamp. he was searching for any place that looked as though a ship had gone down. but--he was all wrong." "how was he 'all wrong?'" demanded the control chief eagerly. "he was looking for a sunken brigantine--or some sort of boat!" "how was that so 'wrong?'" the mail pilot, lurking in the background, wanted to know. "we saw through the camouflaged design," don said. "we had a developed picture, what camera men in the movie colonies call a 'shot' of the swamp, from very high up--a wide-angle shot! it showed all the creeks and channels. we compared that with the blue-print we had--that the 'ghost' didn't take away!" he spoke meaningly, "and we saw that the little mark probably indicating the treasure place, in the real map, that looked as if it was just a frame joint in the airplane sketch, and showed the treasure in the hold of the 'brigantine' at the stern, was really a mark at a point in one of the swamp channels!" "you don't say!" scott bent forward. "you see, the part of the map that looks like the deck of the brig--is--crab channel!" "in the name of all-possessed!" cried toby tew, "tell us the rest--quick!" "the wavy line is the other channel, almost parallel with crab channel," don was willing enough to speak, "and the line that looked like the stem of the ship was really the shore line between the channels while----" "the bow part must have been the--" doc morgan was shaking with excitement, "--the little channel alongside of the boathouse." "gosh-a-mighty!" toby leaped up, "that cross in the tracing was right by the boathouse, then. in the name of all-possessed--to think i've been storing dories right over treasure--let's----" "just a moment!" the police chief entered with mr. mcleod. "nobody goes out of here except don and his airlane guard. the treasure is the indian's property if found. no one else gets a chance to rush ahead and secure it--if found! stand aside, ti-o-ga!" the indian, realizing that he must obey, moved away. don dashed out. anyone in the upper windows at the hangar side, watching, could have seen the dragonfly take off almost before it had rising speed, and go roaring into the dark swamp air. they could have seen, and some did see, a landing flare go over near the sheet of water where the boathouse stood. "did you telephone--and get the answer we expected?" don asked garry as they tied up the dragonfly to a part of the old wharf. "i did, and chick is about to unload what he found--in the boarding house room you mentioned!" they took some cased objects, and a projector head, out of the cockpit, carried them into the old hovel, set them up by hooded flashlight rays, and then sat down in a corner to wait. the water slapped and gurgled under the flooring. an hour passed. the wind that changes at dawn began to sigh and moan through the cracks of the old wall. "well--" don stretched, wearily, "it's almost dawn. maybe our plan won't work--listen! here comes--somebody!" chapter xxxi "the man who never lived" through the door came a muffled hail. "hello, inside the boathouse!" according to a plan already made don tiptoed into a dark corner as garry went swiftly, silently, to the other, nearest the land side of the old building. chick, smallest, quickest of the three, crouched close beside the closed door, pressed tightly against the wall. a hand fumbled at the latch. the door swung sharply inward. a beam of light leaped across the enclosed space. instantly chick lunged forward: his arms wrapped about a pair of slim legs. "i've got him!" as the man toppled forward garry and don came like panthers from the respective corners, springing on the figure. realizing his helplessness their antagonist grunted a surrender. don kicked the door shut. garry saw that his comrade placed his back against it, and let go his hold. chick sprang back, tense and ready for any surprise move. "just as i thought," don said triumphantly. "the air mail flyer!" "and what of it?" the man got to his feet, as garry picked up the electric flash and laid it on the table, still glowing. he directed its beams on a quantity of objects they had set there, ready for such a climax. "we'll tell you," don began. "first, mister pilot, you learned from the indian, john, that there was some treasure hidden somewhere in this swamp. you went to the indian village, concealing most of yourself in your pilot's togs. then you located the map ti-o-ga had, and took a picture of it with a vest pocket camera, came back and used our dark room enlarging outfit to make the tiny picture big enough to trace out and then you camouflaged that map tracing with wings and other airplane parts." garry turned his light on various objects as he took up the accusation. "this is the vest pocket camera." he brought it into sharp relief. "chick found it in your cottage room." "you're crazy! i never owned one." "no use blustering!" chick cried. "the whole thing is plain to us! you wanted a bigger map so you could lay out cross-sectional lines on it and number them. i made a blue-print of the tracing while we had it and by good luck i had picked up two pieces of paper to print on, and then put one aside, the lower one; but it was clear enough, after we made a contact negative from it on film, and then redeveloped and intensified that! we saw the cross lines, and the figures on the paper checked with figures on the bottom of the tracing, most of them being checked with pencil checks to show they had been covered." "and what did i do that for?" "you laid out a chart of this swamp over the camouflaged map," don took up the accusing story, "then you went to port washington and bought an amateur movie camera, and a lot of film. garry knows the photography store owner, and he got his home, tonight, and learned that a man in pilot's togs who said he was a mail pilot, bought the outfit." the man was impressed. "clever, but not true!" he scoffed. "all through the mystery," chick cried, "you have been camouflaging! you covered your trail by putting suspicion on others. that tracing, in this place, puts suspicion on the theatre man, toby tew, because he was one who'd know how to do the ghost trick with an old airplane crash film and a projector." "you put the key to the locker where you hid the projector you used at the hangars, late at night, in the control chief's vest, because he might have been able to cast airplane shadows on clouds with the searchlight beam!" don spoke crisply, "and--you camouflaged the map--but, then, you overdid it!" "yes!" agreed garry, "you went too far. you wanted to make the tracing seem like a new design, after you saw the control chief's initials on the tracing he left here! so you drew in on the entering-edge of the wing's a 'slotted-wing' sketch. now, the control chief knows light, but he doesn't know that a slotted wing is an invention that helps to reduce 'burbling' in take-off, and lets the 'camber' of a wing change automatically--that's too technical for a control man. only a pilot would know that, because it's patented and controlled by one english firm." "and your camouflage showed us that the man we wanted must be a pilot, just by that!" cried don. "then we examined the frame-bracing and saw the little cross-mark you had to show where the map said to look for buried treasure--only you were looking for a ship!" "all very cleverly worked out--but you've got the wrong man!" "we'll see! chick, set off the red, white, and blue signal to the chief," garry ordered. chick's move toward the door was arrested by a startling sound under the flooring. they all stood petrified. slowly they wheeled to watch the trap in the corner. it opened. up came the green-capped, green-masked head, the oilskin shrouded body and rubber-gloved hands of their demon--the man who never lived. "gosh-a-mighty!" he croaked hoarsely, "but you're bright boys!" "toby tew!" chick exclaimed, recognizing the phrase. "you!----" "in the name of all-possessed!" croaked the figure, "who else?" "you've got your 'nerve' to brazen it out this way!" garry said; but there was a strange look on his face; the voice, for all its disguising hoarseness, seemed oddly familiar--and not that of toby. "are you just doing it to try and save this mail flyer?" "gosh-a-mighty!" the figure retorted, "no! time's passed for trying to camouflage, that's all. you think you read that traced chart? you didn't! that cross telling where treasure was hid, now! i put it on the tracing to keep you away from the real spot, same as i bought an old, discarded skeleton from a hospital and had it discovered to start people looking in that locality--far away from where i dug and scooped in mud." "well," chick cried, "you are caught! the swamp is watched. when you left the chief, he had you watched." "gosh-a-mighty! no such thing! he left us all go. all i had to do was to go home, start to go to bed, get these togs, walk down to the seaplane landing stage, tell the detective on guard i was a special officer assigned by the chief to patrol the swamp shore--then in i got in that crash boat--and here i am, with good tail-winds and everything my own way!" "you're not toby tew!" garry exclaimed. "toby doesn't talk about 'seaplane landing stages' and 'tail winds.' those are aviation and he's a boatman as well as a theatre man--and he can't fly!" "then it's doc!" cried chick. "no!" don had caught the expressions and rightly judged them. "doc couldn't draw an airplane tracing: certainly the only other man besides this mail flyer, who knows about slotted wings and can make them is----" "scott!" as garry shouted it the disguised man nodded. "but--scott flew us here at the first," chick expostulated. "besides--he's injured!" "camouflage!" laughed the man, brazen and triumphant. "i got you to fly here to make sure you wouldn't suspect me. besides, it helped me get the ship here, so i could go in a dory to my helicopter, and 'put on my sky show.' then--with the storm coming, i had the dart to get back in: i used these oilskins, while i dug. i had the tracing made to guide my aerial photography, and as soon as i located the buried chest i left the tracing where it would get doc suspected. i left a key where it might incriminate the control chief. the more people you suspected the more i could work. i had to burrow for that treasure--but--now--i've got it all loaded and ready to fly to a place where a boat can take me out to the twelve mile limit. there a rum-runner will ship me for parts unknown. as far as being hurt by the 'prop' goes, i pretended that to get out of flying that night--i knew the indians were after me. and now----" "you can't escape!" taunted chick. "the swamp is surrounded." "but the police left some very powerful arguments where i could get them--and they'll help me escape instead of catching me." then the figure on the ladder snatched a round, queer object from under its oilskins. instantly the reference to police supplies became clear to don. "look out!" yelled don. "tear-gas--don't breathe--run!" the bomb flew, dropped, burst. garry and chick, their sleeves held over their faces, leaped toward the doorway; but the bomb, flung at don's feet spread its fumes swiftly. the trap door slammed to the roar of exultant laughter. the pilot, off guard, stumbled against the table and fell. there came a cry and a cough--and silence. choked, gasping, with smarting eyes streaming with tears, the chums staggered out. "in case you might wonder--" scott's voice floated to them from the humming electric launch, "i left the hospital the same night i pretended to be injured by the propeller--i knew the indian was going to try to drive me down, and pretended to be laid up. but i could run fast enough to come back, smoke you out and get the film--it had a picture on it i didn't want seen--and i flung it out into the swamp and went back to my room--put the things that you found in that mail flyer's room where you saw them--and came back to stay with the chief till he sent me off to bed--only, i came here to load the treasure. now--good-bye. it flies in five minutes!" "not much it doesn't!" muttering, choking, coughing, don gasped orders. flares to signal, as soon as chick and garry got the pilot out of the house. his job was to start the dragonfly. he staggered to the wharf-side, dropped into the craft--saw that the ignition wire was cut! chapter xxxii a flying finish feverishly don worked with spare cable to wire around the ignition switch and get his engine going. from the boathouse staggered garry and chick, coughing, their eyes streaming. they dragged, by the shoulders, the unconscious pilot. "his head must have struck something!" gasped garry, dabbing at his eyes. suddenly something snapped into his mind. "chick!" he choked and gasped, then turning, stuttered, "my first aid--kit! i left it--on--path--promontory--when--mail 'plane went down!" staggering, but bravely eager to help a man who was hurt, the youth took his way off the wharf, along the path, into the grass toward the end of the shore that curved out into the inlet, making the wavering line of the channel on one side. the roar of an airplane engine came--but it was in the air! don looked up. there was the dart, coming over, shooting the water landing, making its approach, coming in, setting down! he recognized, at its controls, as he flung aside his helmet, the pilot who had been injured in the first crack-up, the night they saw the apparition: he had been driven down from the farm by its owner and was sufficiently healed in his arm to handle stick and throttle. with him was the police chief. "get him?" hailed the officer, as the gas was cut and switch put off, and as don shook his head, shouting his explanation, the dart ran up close to the wharf. "the swamp is surrounded," the chief cried. "we let them all go, as you had planned. didn't the culprit walk into the trap?" don told him breathlessly what had happened, urged that the dart go aloft and scout. the chief urged don to occupy his place, while he attended to the man over whom chick was working incompetently. don hesitated: they might need to use the dragonfly, also, he protested. the newly recovered pilot suggested that don fly the dart, reconnoitering, as it was the less stable ship and in his condition he preferred the steadier, more easily controlled craft. they began the exchange, listening for a motor. no sound came. garry, recovering his strength, if still teary-eyed, blundering along to find his abandoned first aid kit, saw the dart go in, and felt that for all his bravado, mister spook was almost as good as captured. he broke through the tall grasses, near where the path ended. his eyes saw an amazing sight! there, where the mail 'plane had gone into the mud, fresh planking had been laid across the mud, and on it rested the airplane, the boards concealed by wings and a camouflage of cut grass: its broken hull had been re-covered, freshly doped. it had no pontoons; but on each side of the fuselage slanted auxiliary wings of thin boards had been attached by wire. if it could be started and raced off the board support, he saw, the slanted planks would serve to lift it higher with each gain of speed, as a boat of the speed type is lifted by its side-flanges. and--in his disguising garments, scott was working feverishly at the motor. garry leaped forward. scott tore off his mask to show a face of fury and dismay. "stand back!" scott lifted a small missile. garry knew the tear-gas and its effect. he hesitated. "shame!" he cried. "you can't escape. even if you did fool us by taking us to look for your own self, at the start, you can't fool us any longer." he was talking against time, getting his feet set. "come and turn that prop, or i'll--throw this!" garry changed his tactics; meaning to leap, ducking the missile, he altered his plan. "all right!" he agreed, docile with pretended fear. he moved toward the propeller, stepping on the edges of the boards. he saw the electric crash launch floating just beyond the nose of the ship. menaced with the tear-gas, he nevertheless made his leap, across the water, from the planks, that gave under him, to catch the coaming of the boat's cockpit. the missile flew through the air after him, but garry, in the channel, went down, until his feet touched mud; holding his breath he swam under the launch, coming up on the other side. he trod water, concealed. to his dismay he heard the man, discarding his disguise, twist angrily at the propeller of the repaired airplane. it caught on a firing point of the engine, swung rapidly. the man rushed along the planks. drowned by the noise close at hand, garry failed to hear the dart rev up its engine, turning to get into the wind. in it was chick and at its controls was don. garry disregarded all danger, clambered into the boat, tumbling in close to the wheel and switch. he tore at the latter, sending current into the motor. with a howl of rage scott drove his airplane off the makeshift runway and straight at the launch. he hurled a missile. it did not strike the boat. garry backed water, up the channel. the airplane had to take the air or foul its wings in grass. it rose. a bomb dropped--garry, full speed astern, avoided it and backed up the channel. he could not turn. up soared the dart. it came around. don saw the mail ship turning to cross the bay. full-gun, he took up pursuit, heedless of the chief's warning that their tear-gas, brought in case the swamp yielded the culprit, had been taken, must be in the hands of the escaping scott. seeing that the dragonfly's pilot had trouble with his arm, don knew he alone stood between scott and escape. the dart was fast. so was the mail ship, once free of the water. garry, backing up the channel, saw don fly over. he kept on, until he reached the wider sheet of water, backed around, swung close to the dragonfly, climbed aboard, and feverishly begged to have a chance at the controls. the other pilot, not too strong, yielded. the dragonfly started. don climbed, losing some advantage; but he knew that it would be a long chase--wanted it to be so. the man in the mail ship, with his bravado serving to the end, lifted and showed strings of jewels that flashed vividly in the first rays of the rising sun. don saw that scott meant to cross to connecticut. it would be a run across long island sound. don did not want to drive down the ship over water--he would lose the treasure. he saw, far behind, the dragonfly. the crossing was made in record time, and then don, in a ship easily maneuvered, raced up above the other. then chick screeched a warning. up toward them came one of those missiles--a tear-gas bomb. don made a quick barrel-roll. it caused the bomb to miss him. falling, the missile was in the path of the mail ship. straight into it, as it fell, scott raced. it smashed in his cockpit. doomed by his own act, he lost control, and in a slanting, catapulting dive, struck just beyond the shore line, on firm earth. and thus the ghost of mystery airport passed. airplane boys in the black woods by e. j. craine the world syndicate publishing co. cleveland, o. new york, n. y. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ copyright, by the world syndicate publishing company printed in the united states of america by the commercial bookbinding co. cleveland, o. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ the airplane boys accidentally bump into a new mystery which is only solved after many pages of excitement in this seventh book of air adventures. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ contents i. a reception committee ii. kidnapped iii. the horrible cavern iv. ghosts v. the way out vi. an old enemy vii. the end of the way viii. when the butterflies die ix. the ghosts of bloody dam x. an invitation xi. revenge xii. the fight in the passage ------------------------------------------------------------------------ airplane boys in the black woods chapter i. a reception committee "holy clover, that fellow would make his fortune in a dairy, all right," exclaimed bob caldwell glancing over the side of the plane the flying buddies had borrowed while the "lark," their own splendid machine was undergoing much needed repairs at the shop of the british hangar in belize. "his fortune, how do you make that out?" jim austin demanded. "i'll bite, let's have the answer." "he'd do the biting--that one tooth ought to be great to make holes in swiss cheese!" "if i didn't need both hands you would get a wallop that would leave you only one tooth, then you could start competition," austin answered. "well," he added as the plane came to a stop, "this sure looks as if you will find enough different kinds of vegetation, old horticulturer, may your tribe increase." "sure does," replied bob with an eager light in his eyes as they went from one great tree or vine to another. "wonder who dropped that one-toother down in this place." the one-toother was a tall, emaciated, dark-skinned individual whose age, judging by the wrinkles on his body and face, was in the neighborhood of two hundred. his lips were thick, eyes sunken so deep in his head that they looked like burnt holes in a blanket, his huge mouth was wide open and from the upper jaw was the lone tooth. his only garment was an irregular bit of tiger skin suspended from a narrow woven grass belt which looked as if it might once have been decorated with a long fringe but only a few of the strands of its ancient grandeur remained. it was impossible to tell, either by his features or color if the man was a native indian or one of white blood who had been tanned and re-tanned through the long years spent in the tropical climate. he stood perfectly still facing the plane but the boys were not sure if he was staring at them or not. "suppose he's alive?" jim whispered. "he looks as if he'd been there as long as the trees," said bob, then he raised his voice. "you're looking hearty," he called. at that the queer creature of the forest gave a slight shudder which went from the top of his bald head to the soles of his bare feet, one bony arm was raised a few inches from the side of his body, and almost instantly he disappeared. "exit, the gentlemen from where!" "where in the name of mark antony did he go?" exclaimed austin in amazement. "reckon we came, he saw, and fled," supplemented bob. "let's have a look about. perhaps we'll have the pleasure of seeing him again, but we don't want to get too far from the plane, old timer, and we'd better watch our step. we are two little lads far, far from the home corrals and my guess is that that lad wasn't impressed with our looks." "too bad," lamented bob. "yes, reckon you wanted to study that vegetable," jim grinned. "he didn't look like any variety of life i've ever run across." the sky buddies climbed out of the cock-pit carefully surveying their surroundings and listening intently for a sound of the vanished ancient, but if he had never been near the spot it could not have been more quiet; not even the buzz of an insect disturbed the silence. from the air the boys had soared above a dense forest and it was only by chance that caldwell had noticed the small clear space and suggested that they land and see what it was like. the clearing was less than an acre of hard soil with a ridge of sharp rocks which protruded like saw-teeth diagonally across. it looked as if sharp-edged slabs of stone had been dropped when the soil was less packed; or it might, hundreds of years before, been the top-most edge of a wall so arranged as an added protection against animals or tribes that might attempt to scale it. as the ages had passed accumulated vegetation, falling or shifting rocks, and sands blown from distant miles have filled in the space leaving only this trace of what it once was. beyond the clear spot, which was highest in the middle, sloping somewhat like a dome, was the forest. great trees whose ancient trunks were hundred of years old, grew straight and high. the majority of them, as far as the buddies could see, had almost no low branches, but their massive limbs started more than half way up the boles, and each one overlapped with his neighbor so thick that the intense sun could not penetrate the foliage. beneath were smaller growths, many with long tangled roots twisted in grotesque shapes as they clung like giant arms to the rocks and disappeared in the soil. huge vines with stems as large as a good-sized sapling, clung tenaciously as they climbed upward, and many of them were in bloom which gave the place the look of a particularly beautiful bower. a few feet from where the boys were standing was a basin, into which a spring of clear water trickled from the crevice of a rock. that too had the appearance of great age for the opening through which the water had found its way, was worn in a smooth, deep groove. the basin itself was about three feet across in the widest place, and nearly as deep where the spring fell into it. from the lower edge it ran off in a tiny stream, winding about until it disappeared into the forest. "if we hadn't seen that oldest inhabitant i'd believe that ours are the first human feet to hit this place. say, it's kind of spooky, isn't it!" bob exclaimed softly. "it does look as if it has been waiting for a million years," jim admitted. his eyes were searching the dome-like surface of the place upon which they were standing. "wonder where the old boy took himself. he might be enoch. looks old enough. perhaps he just dropped down from heaven to have a look at the world; maybe wanted to see if it's changed much." "go on, he'd wear wings instead of a piece of tiger skin," jim answered. "what do you expect to learn around here, buddy? you never can get into the forest, not far, anyway, and you ought to be able to see the same sort of growths where it's less isolated." "surely, expect i could, but me hearty, the elephant's child has nothing on me for curiosity, and now i'm here--" "all right, old timer, i'm with you to any reasonable extent, but you remember how said child got his nose pulled. careful where you put yours," jim remarked. "i'll keep him in mind," bob chuckled. "have a look at this," jim's hand waved to designate the clearing. "suppose it could be the top of some temple that's been buried by earthquakes?" "might," bob agreed thoughtfully and examined the place more closely, but they kept close to the machine. "reckon we'd better watch closely; that chap may come back with some more angels." "he might. lucky we took bradshaw's helicopter instead of one of the other machines." "yes, even at that i'd rather have the 'lark'." "why not wait until she is fixed up then come back in her?" jim suggested. there was something awe-inspiring about the whole scene and he felt that they would be safer with their own plane, which had numerous extra instruments, greater speed, and was infinitely more easy to pilot than the canadian mounty's machine. "aw buddy, we want to get home sometime! i say, we started out, expecting to be gone not more than a couple of weeks and look how long we've been hanging around down here. i'd give a tooth right now to fork a real bronc and have a grand gallop across the ranches." "same here," jim nodded with a little sigh. "but since we are here i'd like to see more of what grows in this climate. we have to wait for the 'lark,' the message tube is safe in the hands of don haurea instead of in your pocket--" "or arthur gordon's," supplemented jim. "wow. i say, i bet a jack-straw against the white house that he was congratulating himself that we didn't take it back from him when he was laid out so nicely--" "i'd give a pair of colts to have seen his face when he opened the empty one. silver pants, but that was a streak of luck--" "i'll say it was. that was a mistake as was a mistake," bob chuckled. "gee, when i saw you let him take it away from you without so much as a yelp i might have known it was flukey. we couldn't put up a fight, all tied around like a pair of hot dogs, but you didn't even squirm. and you never knew that you'd sent it by the mail pilot from la paz--" "didn't discover it until just before gordon's gang flew over the 'lark' and dropped the big boy on our wings. some stunt that was, you have to hand it to him--" "yep. i'm going to get the lariats then have a look around; also a drink of water. that spring looks good enough to be the fountain of life. bet the old lad who was here must have filled up on it to renew his youth." "you nut. going around by the woods?" "right the first time. i won't go out of sight though. maybe you'd better stay here. my massive brain informs me that if some fellow should come along and round up that plane we'd be in a fix." "and how. there are miles of those woods." "then some." being cowboys of no mean standing, the flying buddies just naturally unhooked their ropes from their saddle horns when they changed from a horse to a plane, and on more than one occasion that habit of their lives had helped them through several mighty serious and tight spots. now caldwell got the two lariats, which had been transferred as a matter of course from the "lark" to the good-natured canadian's helicopter when they started on this observation trip. bob hoped he might discover, among the wild tropical growths, some fruits, roots or herbs which could be raised advantageously on his mother's own ranch, the cross-bar in texas. he was intensely interested in flying, thoroughly appreciated the joys and practicality of air travel for either long or short distances, but his love for the land and what might be done with the great acreage he would some day own, was uppermost in his thoughts. the horticultural and chemical department of don haurea's immense laboratory was the one from which he derived the greatest satisfaction; while electricity and mechanical sciences fascinated austin. "taking them both?" jim asked. "no, thought you might like to have yours handy." "thanks, old timer. maybe you'll see how enoch got away." "he had no wings so must have dug-in or crawled." bob strode off briskly toward the edge of the forest, leaving jim, the rope hanging loosely in his hand, to see that nothing happened to the plane. austin watched the younger boy stop at the lovely spring, scoop some of the clear water up in his hand, and take a good drink. "great stuff," he called. "feel as if i'd knocked off ten years." "go on," jim grinned. "don't drink any more. i do not know how to take care of infants." at that, bob shied a stone that struck the ground within an inch of his step-brother's foot, then proceeded. he reached the rim of the thick woods, where jim saw him pause, then start slowly around, scrutinizing everything that grew. keeping one eye on the lad, whose white suit made him easy to follow, austin glanced around at the ground and began to wonder what it had been and what it was. since his acquaintance with don haurea he had seen and been inside many marvelous underground caves, temples, ancient hiding-houses, homes of the once famous race of the yncas, as well as their vast laboratories. he knew that the lost empire had extended no further north than quito, hundreds of miles south of them, but he knew also that at the time of the spanish conquest of the americas, this northern portion of south america had been inhabited by intelligent indians whose origin none could trace. they too had built amazing temples, and it occurred to the boy that five hundred years ago, when the remnant of the conquered tribe had gotten together, some of them may have been mobilized from localities far from their original homes. it was not straining credulity to reason that some of the temples of the northern tribes might have been utilized to advantage, and certainly this dome-like clearing of rock, with its gurgling spring, might be over one of them, and the water might be forced through the stones so that the moisture would assure the underground community, if there was one, of dense growths which would be an added protection against invasion of their domains. jim remembered that the first time they had landed on the high plateau, known to peruvians as amy ran rocks, they had found an ancient indian woman apparently in possession of the place. at that time she had recognized the green emerald rings given the flying buddies by yncicea haurea and had told them to 'go in peace' but today, the ancient who had stood like a man struck dumb in amazement, had made no such identification. thinking it all over carefully, jim decided that the amy ran guardian was probably apprised of the boys' coming, while this man, if he watched an ancient fastness, had heard nothing of the flying buddies. "then, again," jim grinned. "this may all be perfectly natural land, formed so through the ages, and the indian a lad who lives in the forest as far from the whites as he can get. our dropping down on him was a surprise, and the minute he got his wind, he beat it. just the same, his exit was mighty sudden. he was standing near the water, then he just wasn't. i didn't see him run an inch or drop, but he surely did fade out pronto." that fact stuck in the boy's mind, and now bob was some distance from his starting point, so austin moved to the front of the helicopter lest he lose sight of the youngster. there was an uncanniness about the place, and jim wished that his step-brother would hurry with his investigations, but he appreciated the fact that bob was thoroughly interested in what he was doing, and that it would be unfair to urge his step-brother to shorten his investigations. they could not possibly linger in the country many days and this opportunity seemed like an especially good one which should be made the most of, while it was possible. suddenly, from the east, austin noticed a thick white cloud moving swiftly toward the coast, and forgetting caldwell for the moment, he studied it in puzzled wonder. it certainly was not vapor of any kind, it was too substantial looking, and another thing he observed was that it did not move with the wind, which was from the south, although the breeze did affect its direction somewhat. as it drew closer, he noticed that it was considerably deeper than when he first picked it out against the sky, also from its midst tiny particles, almost like snow, seemed to hesitate and fall. "what in heck?" jim had his field glasses slung in a case from his shoulder, and now he hastily took them out and in a moment was examining the strange phenomena. "well, what do you know about that!" he ejaculated. magnified by the glasses, the boy saw countless small, white butterflies, fluttering and poising in the sunlight. there were myriads of the tiny insects flying toward him, and as they came, hundreds of their number dropped out and tumbled toward the ground as if too exhausted to continue their journey. as the boy watched in astonishment he had no idea of what it was, then suddenly he remembered reading that every year the butterflies, their life work completed, start in a tremendous migration, drifting southeasterly along the sea coast until they finally reach the sea, where they drop exhausted into the water and die by the millions. he knew that science is unable to explain the strange instinct which prompts them to choose death sometimes thousands of miles from their breeding ground, and only a few weeks before he had read an article by someone who had seen this great funeral cortege when it hovered near a steamer. as the boy recalled, this migration usually took place in the autumn, but he decided that probably in different localities the time of year differed. "gee, they must be mighty tired," he exclaimed pityingly, "and i'll bet they are leaving a thick white track beneath them." they were getting so close now that he no longer needed the glass to see what they did. the outer edges of the "cloud" were thin, as if leaders or scouting parties were racing in advance, but from the main body so many were falling that they must have appeared like a strange sort of storm. several minutes more he watched, then he remembered his step-brother, and glanced in the direction where he had seen bob a bit earlier, but no white-suited boy stood out against the dark background of the dense foliage he had been examining, and jim's heart jumped into his mouth. "i say--" he moved in the direction caldwell had been going, then he stopped with a gasp, the shout died on his lips and for the moment jim was too paralyzed to make a move. about half way between the plane and the rim of the woods he saw three tall natives, their bodies naked except for the tiger-skin and the grass belt such as the ancient had worn; their heads adorned with a high dress of peacock feathers whose many colors shone brilliantly in the sunshine, in one hand each held a long spear with a glistening point, while the other held a number of small, deadly-looking darts. one of the men had an arm raised, his body was bent slightly toward the woods, and from his extended hand shot the javeral, cutting sharply like a hissing knife through the air, and to jim's horror, it was flying faster than the eye could travel, toward young caldwell's unsuspecting back. chapter ii. kidnapped as bob caldwell pursued his botanistic observations along the edge of the dense forest, his mind was filled with keen regret that he could not spend several weeks in the neighborhood with plenty of reference books to aid him in recognizing the numerous varieties of vegetation which surrounded him, and he also regretted the fact that they had found the old indian, or whatever he was, in the neighborhood because of course that meant that the spot was not so isolated as it appeared and in all likelihood there were others living close by. but for the appearance and disappearance of the mysterious old man the flying buddies would not have felt the need of such caution and he could have been confident that it was safe to penetrate a little way into this paradise of tropical growths and perhaps find something they could take back to texas. it was disappointing, but at the same time he had to admit that it was doubtless better that they had discovered him immediately; better than thinking they were secure then running into a hostile tribe without warning. since they had come to south america the buddies had encountered so many dangers in wild, out of the way sections that it had developed their bumps of caution to a high degree. to be sure the authorities had quietly ascertained that arthur gordon was still laid up with a broken leg at the home of the doctor who had taken him in charge after the accident in the snowy fastness of the andes, and ynilea, the laboratory man at the don's had said that the big boss, frightened at the repeated disasters which had befallen many of his men and undertakings, had taken himself out of the country, but the sky buddies were convinced that this chap, whoever he was, had made up his mind to fathom the secrets and secure possession of the vast wealth. while the loss of a few lives might make him get away, to save his own skin, he would probably recuperate his weakness, reorganize his band and start in again at the first opportunity. "the big boss, i reckon would get back to the united states, or to his own hangout, wherever it is, cure himself of his scare, then begin all over again. getting possession of unlimited wealth, he'll figure, isn't to be passed up, and this time he'll cook up some schemes that may work better than the others." bob grinned to himself at the idea, then through his brain flashed the memory of the wonderful laboratories with their numberless workers and scientific advantages. "then again, maybe they won't. i'm betting my dimes on the don." with that comforting assurance, caldwell turned his attention to his job, moving slowly and occasionally glancing across to where his step-brother waited patiently beside the plane. he thought that jim was mighty decent to hang around doing guard duty when he would probably have liked to do some studying himself, and resolved to cut his observations as short as possible. with that in mind he snipped leaves, tiny branches, bits of root, and made rough notes to which he could refer later when there was more time. nearly two hours had been consumed and the younger boy had made half the circuit when he reached a section where there were almost no large trees, although those which grew on both sides were so heavy with branches and foliage that the arch above was as thick as a roof. in the space there seemed to be more fallen trees and rocks than elsewhere. besides, there was a good deal of young growths, slender saplings and brush, also rather a heavy hanging, like a great curtain of vines suspended from the limbs above. the appearance of this semi-clearing made bob suddenly remember the way they had once gone to the laboratory with ynilea. that day, the party had started from cuzco by automobile, left the main thoroughfare, traversed an unmarked route over rocks and foot hills, finally leaving the machine and making their way through a well-concealed natural hallway until at last they came out on a ledge from which they were taken in a strange airplane the rest of the journey. "great christoper's ghost, wonder if this is another of those hidden ways," he exclaimed excitedly, and forgetting for the moment the need to be cautious, he stepped on to a broken stump in among the protecting curtain. but, before he could advance another inch, his quick ear caught a sharp whistling sound which he thought must have come from jim's lips, but before he could turn about, something dark cut in under his arm, hit the nearest sapling and drove like the blade of a stiletto clean through its heart. the young tree quivered from the impact and in an instant tiny beads of sap oozed from the wound. "whew--" bob waited a moment, too startled to think, then he managed to turn about, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. in the first place, it seemed to be snowing for the air was filled with fluttering white things which seemed to be struggling to go on, and although they looked like butterflies, the boy was sure he must be mistaken for he had never seen nor heard of anything like it. through the queer storm he could see jim crouched near the helicopter, the looped lariat hanging from one hand and his mouth open as if he had been about to yell a warning which had frozen on his lips. quickly caldwell's eyes swept to where jim's were staring and instantly he understood from whence the murderous dart had been driven. he saw the three indians, two of them facing him while the third had his gaze fixed on austin. one of the men held a second dart in his hand and was slowly raising it above his head prepared to send it with deadlier aim than the first. then, as if some supernatural power had intervened, the fluttering white things dropped thickly into the space, completely filling it with their bedraggled bodies and helpless beating wings. as bob stood a bit back in the protection of the swinging vines it was like observing the strange spectacle through a window. none of the insects landed within a couple of feet of him, but beyond the air was like a swirling blanket which effectively cut him off from sight of the indians plainly determined to kill him. anxiously the boy wondered about jim, for he could no longer see anything but the butterflies, and through his mind raced half a dozen plans. bob thought of running out to his step-brother, but hesitated about doing that lest austin endeavor to reach him among the vines. thinking it over, in a moment the lad decided that his buddy's best bet was to remain near the machine. probably, safely hidden from the view of the indians he could climb into the cock-pit and prepare to take immediate flight, then bob wondered if the mass of insects would interfere with a take off. with thousands of them tumbling about the plane their tiny bodies might clog the engine, propeller, and lifting wings, besides making it practically impossible for the pilot to tell in which direction to start. recalling the position of the plane when they landed, bob realized that if the butterflies had done no damage the helicopter could mount without difficulty in the limited space, keep climbing until it was above the danger zone and they would be safe. with this fact in mind, he determined to get to the machine without further loss of time. it would take only a few minutes to be a safe distance from the indians who could do nothing more until the air cleared. then he recalled that the natives were doubtless familiar with the locality, they were the best woodsmen in the world, and the three might, even now, be making their way to him. the idea wasn't a cheerful one, and bob turned his eyes in the direction he thought he had left his buddy, then stepped forth. he had hardly reached the edge of the waving vines when he heard the unmistakable, although muffled roar of an engine and guessed that austin was all set to go, but he was surprised that the sound seemed to come from further south than he had calculated. this fact made him pause to make sure, then, at his left he heard a noise of someone running. it might be one of the indians so he drew back quickly. "buddy, i say, old timer, where are you?" it was jim, not one of the natives, and caldwell sighed with relief. "here," he answered. "good." jim leaped beside him grinning broadly. "wow." "i wasted a lot of time running around the edge but i was afraid of missing you," austin panted. "i heard the engine going--" "no you didn't, not ours," jim answered. "but come along and we'll get it going." "must be another plane around here." "reckon there is and it may be as well if they do not see us," the older boy responded. "great guns, these butterflies are life savers all right." "then some. it's like a nightmare." "put your hand over your mouth so you don't swallow a carload." bob followed directions, and the buddies bent forward prepared to start, but by that time the approaching plane was making a thunderous noise for it was above the clearing, then its motor was silenced. "they are coming down, jim. think we'd better stay here?" bob suggested. "we can hide out further in the forest." "reckon our best bet is to get to the machine," jim answered, but then the plane came down so close to them that they could see its huge bulk only a few feet away. to get by it without being seen would mean some maneuvering and good luck aplenty. the boys scowled, but austin motioned to proceed, so they stepped forth, bending low and praying that the newcomers would not look about them immediately. "these blasted bugs," one of them swore roundly. "they gummed the works," added another. there were half a dozen passengers in the plane who climbed out of the cockpit on the further side, then one of them called: "we're right where we want to be." "good work," came a more cheerful response. "good pilot you mean," spoke up one. "pilot nothing, up in that buggy blanket you didn't know your prop from your tail; whether you were going or coming, upside down or right. rotten piece of piloting gunning into a flock like that." "i did not go gunning into them. the things came along so thick i couldn't get out of them. they got all over the plane and plastered everything, look at it, even my goggles are covered with them. i got you down without a smashup, didn't i? you can thank me that you're not hash--" "well, i'm not thanking you," the other retorted, then added with an oath, "and if you had busted the plane, i'd a pumped you full of lead, see. you can thank me that you aren't a sieve this minute." during this disquieting dialogue the boys had made little progress, then suddenly a voice shouted. "i say, who else are you expecting?" "nobody, you know very well." "there's a plane here--" "a plane?" "yeh. one of those whirligig ones." at that announcement the boys stopped in their tracks. "let's go back," bob whispered, tugging at jim's coat. "this is a hard crowd," jim admitted. they started to retrace their steps but by the time they reached the fallen logs, the air was almost clear, the live insects had struggled on, while only a few who could go no further, fluttered to the ground, which was white with their fallen mates. instinctively bob's eyes sought the spot from which the dart had been thrown at him, but it was empty; there wasn't a native in sight, young or old. "they are gone," he gasped in astonishment. "look who's here!" the flying buddies had been discovered by one of the gang, and a tall ugly looking customer who carried a gun in his hand, turned quickly. "our welcome guests." "what are you doing here?" the tall fellow snarled. "dropped down very much as you did, i reckon," answered jim. "bugs drive you out of the sky?" this was probably the pilot who had just been driven out himself. "like blazes. that motor hasn't been running lately. if the bugs forced you down, what you doing over here? come on, speak out, and reach for the sky, while the reaching is good," came the sharp command. "aw, be yourself," bob retorted angrily. "i'm not reaching to anything for a goof like you--" "aint you--" the gun pointed threateningly, then one of the men interposed sharply. "put it down, mills." it was the smallest man in the crowd who gave the order and he strode forward. "what you fellows doing here?" "came up to study the vegetation," bob replied firmly. "yeh. well now, that's nice. where do you hail from?" jim's foot sought his step-brother's, but caldwell did not feel the pressure. "texas," he answered, and immediately he wished he hadn't been quite so specific. "couple of flying cowboys. well, you'll never know how glad we are to find you here," the man sneered. "oh, don't mention it," caldwell answered with a cheerful grin, but both of the boys were wondering what new mischief was afoot. "i won't mention it outside of our little circle of friends here," the fellow promised. "nobody'll ever be able to say we run across you in these parts. it'll be our little secret." he turned to his companions. "remember that, men, this happy meeting aint to be whispered to any naughty inquirer." "sure. now, give us the dope." "it's the--as i said before, the kids we need in our business, see! be sure you see, and hear." "gee, aint we got luck!" "the don's own little pets." "waitin' fer us. aint that thoughtful now." "hope we didn't detain--" "shut up," snapped the little man, then turned to bob. "what you doing here?" "i just told you, studying the vegetation." "yeh, well that stuff don't go with us. these here honduras is full of vegetables, see, you don't have to come way up here." "we were flying and saw this clearing so we came down. whether the 'stuff' goes with you or not, it's the truth. my brother is interested in things that grow out of the ground and we looked for a place where--" austin started to explain, but was cut short. "you mean you was lookin' fer this place." "no we were not. have a look at my specimen book if you want to see for yourself what we are doing." bob proffered the book which was bulky with the things he had gathered and the small man glanced at it indifferently. "that's a stall. now, you got something in your possession we want; that tube of reports. fork 'em over pronto." "we haven't a tube of any kind," jim answered. "no? search 'em boys." this was done roughly and thoroughly but not a tube did they find and they scowled when they finally had to admit defeat. "go through the plane," the tall man proposed. at this the pilot and two others raced to the machine, and in a moment it was being subjected to an overhauling that promised to leave it a wreck. "can't find the thing," the pilot shouted. "no?" the little man drew his gun. "now, you know what we mean. where is that tube?" he pressed the weapon to jim's belt and his rat-like eyes blazed with anger. "where is it?" "we did have a tube," bob answered. "i know you did and you still have." "you are just as much mistaken as if you'd burned your shirt. we had a report tube we were taking home to jim's father, but you're all wet--too late--" "what do you mean?" "it has already been stolen," bob told him. "stolen! who the--" the men were crowding around now and every face was ugly. "by a friend of yours, i reckon," jim drawled. "friend, hey--" the man whirled on the members of his gang. "turn that gat, you fool--" "who took it?" the little man thundered. "gordon, fellow named arthur gordon," answered bob. "gordon, who the blazes is gordon?" demanded one of the gang. "i know him," the tall man answered. "so do i, blast his hide. when did he steal it?" "day before yesterday. we were coming north; he passed over us in a big plane, dropped on the wings and drove us off the course. we landed up in the snow, had a fall, and he robbed us--" "yeh. say, tell that to the marines. gordon wasn't risking his neck by dropping on you out of another plane," the tall man objected. "then let you get away. you got to make up a better story than that, bo, see!" "i do not need to. gordon hurt himself and is laid up with a broken leg--" "if he snitched the tube, then you got it back--" "we didn't get a chance," bob declared. "say, we'll fix 'em so they tell better stories. tie 'em up boy with them lariats and do a good job. they got out of some tight holes, but the fellow that lets 'em get away this time gets plugged, see." chapter iii. the horrible cavern there was no use resisting the gang for the six promptly jumped to the task of securing the flying buddies with their own lariats, and every man of them saw to it that there was no possible chance of them getting out of the bonds. "now, let's take these nice rings--" "let those rings alone." it was the tall man and he spoke so sharply that the would-be thief paused. "say, how do you get that way?" "i'm telling you, let them alone, don't touch 'em." "aw, what's eatin' you--" "listen, if any man jack of you touches those rings, i'm through, see, i quit right now--" "yeh, well, we aint grievin' none." "what you got on your mind? what's the matter with the rings?" "you weren't with the big boss as long as i was, see, and maybe you never heard his orders to steer clear of green rings, 'specially emerald ones. lord amighty, his brother shot a guy one night fer taking them two rings." "shot him!" through the flying buddies' minds flashed the recollection of the night when the de castro plane had been driven through a raging storm only to be brought down by members of the big boss' gang, including young gordon. that was the time when the four were bound on a ledge and a fellow who wore a tight green costume and close fitting mask, had appeared, called the men to task for what they had done, and later been frightened away from the spot by the ingenious ynilea. "yes. he said his brother's orders were not to touch the rings, and don't i know once in chicago a guy brought one in, said he'd picked it up in a hock shop, and the big boss kicked it through the window into the lake, that's what he done." "yeh. well, what do you reckon's the matter with them rings?" "sounds like a lot of stewed tripe to me," declared the chap who was determined to possess himself of the jewels. "maybe it does," retorted mills, "but i'm tellin' you to leave 'em be. i asked one of the lieuts en' he told me that a long time ago, when there wasn't no white folks in the u. s. er down in these parts either, there were rich indians." "go on, indians aint rich." "shut up, some of 'em were and are. well, the whites came along, and saw them all dressed up in gold feathers, the women wearing ropes of diamonds and pearls big as eggs. it made 'em sore so much wealth goin' ter waste, so they shot a mess of 'em and took the stuff. only a few was left and they were good and sore, so they dug hiding places, deep ones in these here mountains, and they took a lot of the best green stones they could find and made 'em into rings--nice ones that a fella would like to want fer himself en maybe fer his girl. then, when the rings was all ready they took them to their temple on top of one of the peaks, and they prayed fer weeks and weeks, then they cussed them rings up one side and down the other. cussed everybody who got a look at one, cussed all his family, and put some extra cussin' on the white guy who carried one, even fer a minute. then they prayed some more to make it stronger, and they cooked up a lot of meat on the temple and the smoke all went straight into the sky, meanin' that the cussin' had took, see! then they passed them rings around here and there so they'd bob up fer a long time and raise sam hill with any white man that got hold of one," he said impressively. "cussed 'em, eh." the chap straightened, and despite their predicament, the flying buddies had difficulty to keep from roaring with laughter at the strange recital. "aw, i say, these fellows has been wearin' 'em!" "sure, en aint they outta luck?" that was evident to the gangster, who resolutely turned his face from temptation and such glaring misfortune. "say, you guys know the way outta here 'cept by plane?" mills demanded suddenly. "no we do not," jim replied emphatically. he recognized the questioner as one of the men who had been on the ledge the night they were captured with the de castros. "quit wastin' time on them. come on in this place en we'll see where it's leading," proposed the pilot. "we aint none of us hankerin' to hang around here." "no we aint," responded lang. "you take that whirlgig plane en fly her where she won't be spotted--" "i aint flying no plane that can be spotted side every other one between here en medicine hat. en what's more, i aint leavin' my machine while i go off some place else, see. how'd i get back, you goop--" "that'll do--" "sure it will, but when i leave, it's in my own cock-pit, see." "yeh, en when he goes, i'm goin' long," spoke up a red-headed fellow stepping beside the pilot, his fist dug menacingly in his pocket. "oh, keep your shirts on," snapped the leader. "i fergot you couldn't get back. can you cover the machine up so if any one flies over she wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb?" "sure," the pilot agreed readily, then he and his pal strode off to the helicopter. "get the boys to chop us some vines," he called. paying no further attention to their captives, the men set to work with a will and soon the two planes were so effectively covered with foliage that only a very close observer in the air would have suspected for a moment that they were not clumps of underbrush which had sprung out of the rocky crevices. cautiously mills and his red-headed pal examined the work and finally pronounced it finished. "and we can get it off quick if we're needin' to leave in a hurry," mills announced with satisfaction. "that's good," lang nodded. "what you going to do with those bozos," the red head demanded. "take 'em along," came the short answer. "untie their feet so they can walk." two men set to the job and in a few minutes the flying buddies were loose enough to stand but their arms were securely fastened and each rope had a length left dangling so that their captors could keep a firm grip on them. "now, step lively--" came the order. "you got to give us a minute so the blood will circulate in our legs," bob protested. "they are like pin cushions." "kick 'em around and they'll be good enough," lang answered. "move on, we're going." with a helpless glance at each other the boys kicked and bent their knees to relieve the discomfort, and in a moment they were being marched behind the red headed fellow into the opening where bob had stood when the butterfly "storm" started such a series of misfortunes. caldwell had been in the place before and he knew that the soil was softer than out in the open, so now, on a pretense of limbering his stiffened limbs, he took very short steps, bringing each foot down hard so that his shoes left a heavy imprint. he was thankful that he had not worn soft soled shoes that morning and that his heels left a larger mark than those made by the feet of members of the gang. jim observed this activity on the part of his step-brother, and added to the clue in the trail by kicking bits of brush and sand with his toes. if by any possible bit of luck pilots from the british town found where the pair had been spending the morning almost anyone could be trusted to discover in which direction they had been taken. he managed to glance over his shoulders to see if the men coming behind him had thought of the possibility, but they were stepping quickly, for red-head was leading at a lively pace. "go on, you don't need to stop to kick all day. your legs are good enough," lang snapped suddenly. "yeh, you're holdin' up traffic." "they feel better now," jim grinned cheerfully, but both boys continued to make a track whenever possible. the way they were following was undoubtedly some path used by either natives or woodsmen traversing the dense forest, and the further they went into it, the more convinced the boys were that they were proceeding along a secret trail built by the ingenious natives. overhead the leaves and vines grew in a thick mass and soon the route began to grow darker and darker, but red-head kept going, feeling his way with his feet until they were making very little progress. "come on, get the lights out," mills growled. "sure, nobody can see a light in here now," red added. he did not produce a flash himself, but two of the men in the rear did, sending the rays on the floor of the trail. on they went at a quicker pace. at times the forest cave lead them down steep declivities where it was evident to the flying buddies that the enclosure was made by hand, not nature, although she had helped. another time they were walking forward on a woven floor and through the loosely secured vines they caught glimpses of sparkling water which pounded against the rocks that confined it and sent a spray so high that the place was spongy and wet. later they were close to the surface of the stream and the boys guessed its bed was an underground passage. at this point the route turned sharply to the left and presently the flooring ended; they began to ascend a gradual incline which they judged was a circuitous path through some rugged section of the country. it seemed to jim that they must have been going for hours. his feet were beginning to tire and his calves felt as if every muscle was strained. he wondered about the indians they had seen before the bandits came down in their plane and marveled more and more that nothing was done to impede progress. by that time they began to climb, and now the foliage was more dense, the air grew hot and stifling, as if the enclosure had not seen the light of day in many generations. thinking it over the boy concluded that this route was rarely used and it certainly was not so well constructed as the hidden trail from cuzco which he had traversed months before. in the first place, that was both light and the foul air driven out, then he remembered that it was cared for by the men in the great amy ran laboratories from which it was constantly purified. austin tried hard to keep his mind clear and reasoned that perhaps lang had in some way discovered the bare spot in the vast andean forest, and may have investigated it, or he may have learned of it while working for the big boss. then, overcome with greed, he had organized this handful of men to explore with him, calculating that the haul they would make would give each greater wealth if they were not forced to divide what they found with the whole organization. it struck the boy as odd that so many of the gang members had started out on their own, and each must have been thoroughly convinced that untold wealth lay at the end of this "rainbow" and they were eager to risk their lives in pushing their own discoveries to the limit. it was disquieting to realize that such a number of small groups were viciously determined to fathom the don's secrets and reap the benefits of the riches which rumor carried like wild fire among the outlaws. following the wiry red, caldwell marveled at the strength of the little man who leaped briskly ahead as energetically as when they first entered the opening. through his mind ran a series of plans for their escape but with arms bound, ropes held by grimly determined gangsters who doubtless had guns ready to fire at the first false move, the situation appeared utterly hopeless. he, too, was beginning to feel fatigue, his feet seemed weighted with lead, and his head and lungs ached from the foul air. occasionally he glanced back at jim, who kept as close as possible, but they spoke no word as they went on and on. at last the journey was telling on all of the men, for their panting breaths were coming in painful sobs. even red faltered; twice he slipped and almost fell flat, but he managed to recover himself. "better let someone else take the lead," lang proposed. "better stay where you are," red snapped angrily. nothing more was said, then the boys began to wonder if any of the gang would drop out from exhaustion, but as far as they could tell, none had. then one of the lights grew dim, and red cursed. "change your battery." this was done, and soon they were going on swiftly, but there was a steep climb ahead. with difficulty it was finally negotiated, but it took nearly half an hour. at last they were all on the top. the place looked as if it crossed, or followed a high ledge, the wall which was moss grown formed one side, while the other was slanting, like a shed roof. again they passed over a stream, but it was a mighty dangerous undertaking, for great holes yawned beneath them, and red managed to make it by hanging on to the vines above him. "we can't catch hold," jim protested. "go on." mills gave them a boost, and after a struggle they were on the other side. then the way descended again, and suddenly the air seemed to clear. "whew, this is better," mills gasped, with relief, and they all paused a moment to inhale deeply. "there's daylight," red shouted a few minutes later, and with a bellow of joy, he sprang forward. his shout changed quickly to the snarl of terror, and a shriek of abject fear. the buddies saw his feet slip from under him on the log he was crossing. his arms shot up in a frantic effort to catch hold of something, then his body twisted and dropped from sight, leaving a great hole in the rotten tree. an agonized wail split the air, then all was silent. "what's the matter," gasped lang fearfully. "quit shovin', the thing's rotten as hell," mills snarled and he threw his weight against the men who were pressing forward. "get more light." two more flashes were produced, illuminating the spot. it appeared as if half of the great log which was suspended from great boulders, had given way. the lights revealed a deep, narrow cavern, they could hear water gurgling as if it formed a passage for a small spring or stream, and after fumbling with the light, mills finally was able to locate the huddled body of the red-headed man. silently, and shivering, the group stood for several minutes. "i'm going back," mills announced positively. "yes, come on." as if they were one man they turned about. "don't be quitters," lang urged. "this air is better than back there and we must be almost out." "yeh, well, i'm going back." the ropes which bound the buddies were not forgotten, and in a minute they were retracing their steps, this time with more lights than when they came forward. although lang argued that they were giving up when they had almost won, no one paid the slightest attention to him. they seemed to forget their earlier discomfort and went swiftly until they reached the last stream. again they stopped suddenly. the woven bridge, or flooring had broken at the edge and was dangling forty feet away. mute with horror, the men stared paralyzed at the calamity. "there's no way to get over," a gangster sobbed. "maybe we can chop our way through the roof," one suggested. he caught the side of the natural wall and hauled himself up, but when his ax struck the roof it rang against solid stone. besides the stuff upon which the fellow was braced, gave way, and he slid back with a howl of fear. "that log wasn't all rotten," lang declared. "come on back and at least we can cut some of the vines, make it stronger and get out that way." "yeh, en get pitched down with red--" "if you can think of anything better, suppose you get busy," lang snapped at him. "all right, i'm comin." "let them kids do the leadin' this time," mills proposed, and without further ado the flying buddies were turned about and forced to head the march back. "give us a chance with our arms," jim urged. "nothing doing, you go ahead. if you slip we'll haul you back." they had to be content with this uncertain promise and in a moment the hard barrel of a gun was poked in jim's ribs. slowly they went ahead, and after what seemed like an eternity, they came again to the rotten log. lang himself wriggled forward, tested it with the back of his ax, then tearing loose a number of long vines, he straddled the dangerous path, hauled himself forward with the vines, and after ten breathless minutes, he dropped off at the other side and the men he had left behind, sighed with relief. "it's solid over here," he called. then mills made the journey, but he did not need to loosen the vines, so it took him less time, and presently he was standing beside the leader. the flying buddies saw the two confer, and finally nod agreement. "leave them kids till next to the last," mills ordered. quickly the third man made his way over, then the fourth, while the fifth stood with his gun out ready to shoot if either of the boys moved. "we can't make it with our arms tied," jim protested. "i don't care if you make it or not. get on there--" "listen, if we don't make it, you don't, see," bob spoke quietly. "no?" "no. it's this way, if the log doesn't hold us or we have to kick it much to keep on, it's going to break good and plenty, and when it breaks, it leaves you here, just like that, caught between the two traps," he explained, and the fellow's face went white as a sheet. chapter iv. ghosts "hey, what are you waiting for?" lang called sharply. "these kids want their arms loose," the guardian answered. "tell 'em to slide with their heels--" "i won't. i gotta get over, haven't i!" the fellow's teeth chattered and the weapon he held wavered in his trembling hand. "send one along. i'll meet him," mills decided. "all right, get on, if you kick that thing i'm goin' ter pump you full of lead, and your buddy too, see." the man poked his white face into jim's. "surely, it's quite clear." jim stepped forward, straddled the log, inched himself along with the greatest care, but his heart was in his throat as bits were knocked off. he had gone almost half the distance when he saw mills throw himself full length from the other side, and stretch out his hands. "bend forward." jim did and mills clutched his collar firmly, then wriggled back. half an hour later bob was over safely, but when he stood up a great hunk of the log fell away. "listen," he cried, "that will never hold another man, and that chap over there is scared stiff. loosen my arms, or jim's, then we can get him with the lariat and if he starts to fall, haul him up. he'll never make it--he's heavier than we are." "wait up, over there," lang shouted. "what for?" he snarled suspiciously. "i aint hanging round here." "wait up till we get a rope--" just then a strange wailing sound came from behind the man and he glanced fearfully over his shoulder. mills had started to remove bob's rope, but his fingers were clumsy and he fumbled nervously. "hold that light closer," he growled to the chap who had the flash. the rays were directed on the knot while the rest stood impatiently watching, and after a moment one of the men laughed; it sounded like a cackle. "those kids--" "what you waiting for?" called the man across the gully. "keep your shirt on, we're going to throw the rope--" "woo-oo-o-oh," came the weird sound again, only louder. it seemed to be getting closer quickly, rose from a deep moan to a shrill wail that filled the narrow passage, and the man who was holding the flash let it fall from his cold fingers. "i'll hold it--" "i'm coming--" roared the one on the other side. he glanced over his shoulder a second time, then the sound came nearer, louder, and more terrible. with a shriek he flung himself astride the log, his body flat, his arms and legs kicking furiously as he shoved frantically forward, disregarding the danger of the undertaking. "be careful," yelled jim as he watched the fellow, whose limbs were striking out like a floundering swimmer, sending a shower of rotten timber to the depths below. "take it easy, you won't make any headway." "look out--" mills stopped his futile efforts to get the rope, lang turned the rays of the light on the log, while one of the other men stood astride the end trying to swing a long vine to the hands of their comrade. he bent forward and threw the long twining end, but the chap was not looking at him, the bit of tendril brushed his cheek; and with a howl of panic he twisted about desperately. "catch it," lang shouted. "get a hold," mills added. but the man was too terrified to understand. with a wild lunge he threw himself on the weakest part of the log, clawed with both hands, sending a shower of chips into the abyss and at the same time, the awful unearthly cry came again. another panic-stricken lunge, the log creaked dismally, parted in the middle, and dropped its burden to the depths. the fellow who was astride the end was nearly taken with it, but mills caught and hauled him to safety. "if he'd waited for the rope he could have been saved," bob said softly, and there was genuine regret in his tone. it was a tragic situation, standing tied helplessly while a fellow human fell to his death. "something's back there--" "i believe that is only wind," jim declared. "wind, how do you make that out?" "since the air purified, either there is a high wind outside or something happened to let in a good breeze. it played on those tight streamers and vines like a harp--" "queer harp," mills muttered with a shiver. "just the same, that's all it is, i'm sure. if you have been around the andes much, you've heard something like it before--" "well, i haven't been, and i'm getting out now fast as i can, see?" "come on," lang ordered, and putting jim in front to lead the way, they started forward again, but now there were only four members of the gang with the buddies. the way was wide enough so that they could go side by side, and although their shoulders touched as they proceeded, they did not exchange a word, for mills and lang were right behind them. after all, it did not make much difference, but there was really nothing to say. the queer noise was repeated at intervals, but although it was terrifying enough, the men grew less fearful of it and seemed to accept austin's explanation as to its origin. the boy had thought it was the wind when he first heard it, but had kept silent partly because his opinion was not asked and partly because he felt that the bandits deserved a good scare. he reasoned that if they were frightened they might be less vicious in their dealings with their captives, but when he saw the havoc it was creating he endeavored to reassure them. however, if any of them appreciated his assistance no sign was made of the fact, and the pair were urged to proceed ahead. "if there is danger they figure we'll get it first," bob whispered, and jim nodded. "these kids are terribly slow," snapped a man in the rear. "we want to get out of this place." "sure, lang, hurry 'em up," said the other nervously. "this hole is spooky. why in blazes didn't you find out what was in it?" "shut up, i'm managing this," lang snapped back. "if them kids has a pull with the indians they'll get us through," mills called, and then the buddies understood that the leaders expected to share any protection that the presence of the "don's little pets" as he called them, might be to the gang. this was a phase neither of the boys had thought of, and now they exchanged swift glances. "we're going along nice now; when red was leading it was tough," added lang, then went on to bob, who had stared back. "your help is appreciated a lot you can see, but any funny business and you'll wish you had dropped over off the log with red." "you said we'd be out of here in a few minutes. it's getting worse instead of better," the rear man grumbled. "yeh, it's thick and hot. my light won't last forever. got any more batteries?" "yes." they paused to fix the flash, and lang swore at them roundly. "i told you to have new lights, and to pack spare fillers. what did you mean by coming half ready--" "aw shut up, my light was brand new, but red carried the extras," the other admitted reluctantly. at that lang and mills ripped out a string of oaths. "haul in," one snapped finally. "didn't you tell us to divide the stuff--well, red took the batteries--that's that--" "and we'll likely have to crawl out of this in the dark, land somewhere in the forest, and who knows how we'll get back to the machines?" mills thundered. "what are you carrying?" "grub," came the answer. "well, let's stop and eat. we can make better time when we are not so empty," lang proposed. "pass it along." he and lang sat down as best they could in the narrow quarters with only the smallest light to pierce the gloom which surrounded them. the buddies also let their feet slide from under them and were grateful for the opportunity to rest. the two men who brought up the rear showed no such disposition, but stepped forward over the other's legs. "here," the last one muttered, dropping what looked like a paper bag into lang's lap, then went on quickly. the leader started to open the container, then glanced up with a scowl. "where's the rest of the stuff?" he demanded. "think we been traveling for hours with nothing in our stomachs?" came the answer. "what's left?" mills snapped, grabbing the bag. "aw there's a couple of sandwiches en a hard boiled egg--" mills sprang to his feet but the pair jumped out of his way quickly. "come on, mills, eat what there is," lang called, so the tall man returned, and the two soon devoured the frugal repast. not a bite was offered to the buddies whose food had been left in the plane on the hill, and whose stomachs were clamoring furiously. presently the meal was finished to the last crumb, then the leaders rose to their feet. they did haul their companions up so they could stand, then without a word, gave them a shove forward. slowly and painfully the four proceeded. the flying buddies' feet hurt with every step, and their tired bodies wavered from side to side as they went on and on. by that time they were going through what appeared to be a grassy section of the forest. the passage wound among huge trees, over piles of fallen timber, then, suddenly from ahead, they heard a wild shriek of terror, followed by a series of shrill earsplitting screams. "good heavens, what they got into?" lang panted. "get on," mills urged. he slipped his hand under bob's arm and helped him forward, while jim and lang stumbled along as quickly as possible. presently they came to a section where piles of rotten vegetation lined both sides of the route, and by the dim light lang cast ahead, they made out one body lying still, while the other battled furiously with some hissing object that lashed and struck with thunderous blows. "snakes," bob whispered. they saw a second man borne down to the ground and after a convulsive struggle for a moment, he too lay still. the four stopped horrified in their tracks. for minutes they stood staring too paralyzed to go forward or back, then bob saw the great snakes slide off to one side and disappear under the debris. "come on, walk carefully and be quick," he panted, and started to run, forcing his aching feet to carry him on. passing the spot they could see that their two companions had probably stumbled over the reptiles, angered them to instant attack, and were utterly defenseless against the poisonous brutes. hardly daring to breathe lest the snakes come out again, the four tiptoed forward, but in each hand of the leaders were small, deadly guns ready to destroy the snakes if they showed their heads. beads of perspiration stood out on the four faces, and for the first time since they started, lang neglected to keep an eye on the captives. half an hour later the place was well behind them and they were traversing a sandy way which took them to a stream. "i've got to have a drink," jim declared, and without further ado, he dropped flat and buried his face in the cool depths. caldwell followed his example, and soon mills and lang were also stretched full length and drinking deeply. "maybe it's poison but i don't care," mills muttered. "better not take too much at a time," jim warned. "drink a little, then rest and drink some more." the suggestion was carried out. several times they did it, then, with a sigh, mills rolled over and closed his eyes. "hey, mills, what's the matter with you?" lang shook him roughly by the shoulder. "dog tired," he answered. "i'm going to sleep." "sure that water didn't knock you out?" lang persisted fearfully. "it's grand water. i'm going to sleep beside it, have some more when i wake up, then go on," he said heavily. "so'm i," lang declared, but he took the precaution to tie the ends of the ropes which bound the arms of the flying buddies to separate trees so that they could not help each other to get away, then he, too, closed his eyes. jim watched him several minutes, the smallest flash light in one hand, a gun in the other. the boy thought that he could keep awake and that he and his buddy could make some plan, but his own lids grew heavy and presently all of them were sound asleep, in spite of the terrors which surrounded them. it seemed to austin as if he had barely closed his eyes when he felt something brush gently against his cheek and instantly he was wide awake. the first thing he noticed was the dim light sending its feeble ray into the darkness, cutting a faint glow which made the rest of the place blacker. the boy tried to brush his face on his shoulder, which ached woefully but as far as he could see or feel there was nothing near him. mills snored melodiously, while the deep breathing of the other two could be heard plainly, but no other sound broke the death-like stillness of the ancient passage. "reckon i'm so tired and sore i'm imagining things," he told himself, then glanced across to where caldwell was huddled like himself close to a tree. the boy closed his eyes again, but a moment later they were wide open, so he shifted his position quietly and began to try to make a plan which would help them get away. carefully he moved his face about the ground hoping to discover a sharp stone upon which he might rub the rope until it was cut in two, but he found nothing, then he began to hitch and wriggle his body. it was a mighty painful process for his arms were swollen and he dared not make a sound. at last, after a grim struggle, he had the satisfaction of feeling the lariat shove upward toward his shoulders. if he could get it as high as his neck he would be free. with a heart pounding hopefully he persisted. twice he had to stop precious minutes for lang stirred in his sleep and the lad feared he would wake and discover what he was doing. nearly an hour passed and at last the rope was slipped above his shoulders; a moment more and he was out of it. all this while his mind was working like a trip hammer planning what to do when he got loose. the first thing would be to take possession of lang's gun. with that in his pocket he might force the men to release bob in case he wasn't able to do it himself. his step-brother was the other side of mills and whether that journey could be made safely was another matter. with the weapon in his pocket at last, jim devoted the next few minutes to rubbing his sore arms, for he knew that in their present condition he could never hold the gun, much less fire it effectively. in due time his arms were relieved, then he wished that he had on soft-soled shoes, but he managed to get to his feet, take possession of the flash-light, and at last, assured that his activities were unobserved, he made his way to bob's side, bending over him carefully. instantly the young fellow looked up in startled surprise, then jim grinned, for bob was industriously chewing his own rope and had managed to get half way through it. a moment more and it was cut and he too was free, while jim took mills' gun, which he gave to the younger boy. "this place is lighter," bob whispered, and jim glanced around. he was greatly puzzled, for as far as he could see there was no explanation to the fact. no one seemed to be coming with a light and certainly no new opening had been made into the passage, but the glow was unmistakable and it filled the place. gently jim rubbed his step-brother's body, and presently, bob stood up, but just then mills stirred uneasily, so the sky buddies sat down again quickly and quietly. they watched through half closed eyes, and although mills tossed restlessly, he finally lay still and again his melodious snore broke the silence. "grand uproar," bob grinned. then he got busy knotting his rope, and looped it on his arm. "we'll do a bit of tying," he announced. "wait," jim whispered, then he motioned his pal to move further from the sleepers. they stopped several feet away. "i have an idea. suppose we lay the ropes so when they sit up we'll have them hog-tied with a loop, and as soon as we're ready we'll wake them and make them get moving." "good idea," bob agreed. "they had something to eat and some sleep, and we didn't. got any of those pellets ynilea gave you--" "you bet, i forgot all about them." jim fished the tiny container of food pellets they had been given at the laboratory, and the pair soon had some in their mouths. "look," bob pointed along the way they had come and to their astonishment they saw a young girl carrying a basket on her head. she came toward them as if unconscious of their presence, her sandaled feet hardly touching the floor of the passage, her body covered with a whole tiger-skin. behind her walked a woman, then several men came forward single file. every one of them carried boxes, some opened and others closed, while a few older men carried bags woven of grass. the band came closer and closer until the girl passed directly in front of the buddies. she never turned her dark eyes but went on, stepping over the sleepers. "natives," jim whispered. both of them completely forgot to lay the lariats, which were looped in their left hands, then suddenly an exclamation made them whirl about. lang was sitting up rubbing his eyes stupidly, while mills too was staring wide awake. chapter v. the way out the bandits sat up, stared with mouths gaping at the band of indians filing silently past them. neither mills nor lang appeared to realize that the captives had managed to free themselves of the ropes, and the flying buddies, the small guns resting ready in their palms, were on the alert, prepared to turn the tables on the men if necessary. in the meantime the entire passage was illuminated with a weird yellow light and the natives' moving bodies cast grotesque shadows before, behind and all about them. huge dark figures out of all proportion, wavered through the narrow cavern as they, completely ignoring the presence of the white men, passed along soundlessly. it was a strange spectacle the lads witnessed, and one they could not explain. there were about forty or fifty men, women and young girls, all carrying precious burdens in ancient receptacles, and occasionally a glittering object fell from the over-flowing containers. one of these dropped between lang's knees and his eyes glowed greedily as they rested on it, but he sat with eyes and mouth open and did not move. for ten or fifteen minutes the strange procession passed slowly along and finally the last man, a tall young indian armed with a long, black-tipped spear, brought up the rear. he paused for an instant beside mills, and stared down at the man who crouched in terror, then he proceeded to join his companions. he was out of sight before lang leaped to his feet. in his hand was the jewel which had fallen, and his face was contorted with viciousness. "mills, it's native--" "think i'm blind," mills muttered, but he got up more slowly; it was not easy to rid himself of the effect of those dark piercing eyes. "they are carrying away tons of stuff; gold and stones. we hit the place all right. come on, we'll see where they hide it and help ourselves--" lang was nearly consumed with excitement. "help ourselves--" mills repeated dully. "sure, look!" he held out the shining trinket. "those natives always do that, i've read about it. years ago--they hid carloads of stuff and nobody could find it, but lately some caches have been located and these fellows are hiding their treasures in a new place. we'll see where it is--" "say, bo, listen, we aint awake, see! this is a dream i'm havin', all by myself, you aint in it at all, but you seem to be." mills brushed his hand over his forehead. "oh, you're crazy," lang insisted. "just asleep. we been thinkin' so much about those hiding places that i'm dreaming all this, but listen, if it was real those fellows would never have trailed right over us like that--never--why, i could see right through them--it's a dream i tell you--" "come along, i'll show you if it's a dream," lang shouted. "they'll get away if we don't hustle." he dashed off after the last indian who had disappeared from sight. mills followed reluctantly at a slower pace, while the flying buddies cautiously brought up the rear. as he went on they could hear him muttering to himself that he was dreaming, that it wasn't real, and lang was a nut. "it does seem queer," bob remarked thoughtfully. "shall i give you a pinch so you'll be sure you are awake?" jim asked soberly. "yes, go ahead," caldwell invited. his step-brother started to comply but he no sooner got a bit of the fleshy part of his arm between his fingers than bob drew away. "i'm convinced. come on, hurry up, it isn't as light as it was!" the pellets the boys had swallowed some hours earlier had refreshed them amazingly so they forgot that they had had little food, rest or water, as they ran as hard as they could go along the passage, which presented no difficulties to progress. they had raced about five minutes before they overtook lang and mills, and some distance ahead they could see the backs of the indians marching forward with dignified tread. nearly a quarter of an hour the white men followed the dark ones through the opening in the dense forest until at last lang, who was leading, paused and raised his hand. mills drew close to his partner, but the flying buddies remained at a respectful distance. they were on higher ground and could see quite easily what was happening. the place beyond where the buddies were standing was like a deep gully whose sides rose steeply, like a wall. thick vines grew about twenty feet from the bottom and these were woven across the top in an impenetrable mass through which neither rain nor sunshine could pass. the boxes and baskets were placed on the ground in a circle and the men stood behind them, each armed with long and short spears. it looked as if the women were moving about preparing a meal, but suddenly there came a fierce braying of dogs, the thunder of galloping hoofs, hundreds of them, and the deafening clatter of steel. a moment later a huge black brute with powerful hungry jaws leaped in from behind the rocks, and almost instantly a horse and rider raced furiously in after him. "great guns, bob, he's in armor," jim whispered. "bronc and all," caldwell added in amazement. it reminded the boys of some historical moving picture in which armored knights and horses suddenly leaped to life and action. for a breathless instant they stood too astonished to speak. after their leader, a great pack of the dogs rushed along with soldiers protected from head to foot by their coats of mail and helmets. queer weapons were fired, blunderbusses and heavy cross-bows, long swords flashed and after ten minutes of the wildest confusion the natives were dead, all except a few women and children who were slung up behind the soldiers, while others gathered the treasure in their arms and galloped away with the rich booty, but as they scrambled up the rocks, a number of them were dislodged and came tumbling down. the stones seemed to mark the wall of some natural dam, for instantly there was a terrific boom, boom, and tons of water roared over, sweeping the burdened horses helplessly before it. snarling and fighting the dogs struggled to swim to safety, but most of them were battered by heavy armor or kicking hoofs, so that they sunk with their laden masters in the swirling water. "get back," lang shrieked in terror, but although the water had reached their side, the main part of it found a lower outlet, and it flowed off among the boulders. however it was deep enough so that there was no evidence of what it concealed, and the four who had witnessed the horrible tragedy stared mutely at one another. "i tell you i'm dreaming," mills repeated. "let's get out of here," cried lang, glancing about him fearfully. "how are we going to do it?" "follow the stream around to the other side," jim suggested. "say, what in--" "you needn't say it," jim snapped, or rather barked. "face about and get going. make it lively--" "you brats--" "save those little pleasantries for later, old man," jim ordered. "it's your turn to lead this party--" "i'll be killed--" "surely," bob cut in. "you'll get what you promised us if you don't do as you are told. the first thing is to relieve yourself of your weapons, all of them. turn your pockets inside out, both of you." "well--" "don't wait." bob pressed forward, the gun pointing straight at mills' belt and in terror the fellow threw up his hands. "i told you to turn your pockets inside out, and take off your gun belt. do it quick or i'll shoot it off. my folks taught me to use a gun when they showed me how to handle a spoon, and right now i've got a lot against you; my fingers are itching to press the spring, besides it would be no end easier for buddy and me to get out of this place alone. we're only taking you along because we like your company--" "we'd better tie them up and leave them here," jim suggested, although he had no such intention. "don't do that--don't do that--" lang's teeth chattered with fright as he pleaded, and he hastily turned his pockets wrong side out, also removed his cartridge belt and a holster which he had strapped under his arm. jim kicked the stuff into the water, while bob attended to mills. "now, take off your shirts then we'll be sure you haven't got anything hidden or try anything queer. i'm going to tie you, but not so that you are as helpless as we were." while jim stood guard, he secured the pair with the one lariat, then he took the end of the rope. "just a little funny business and this will pull up tight, so watch yourself--now goose-step." the two men faced about and started, caldwell holding one end of their rope. he had the gun in his other hand, while jim walked beside him, his weapon pointed at the bare backs. it was difficult making their way along the edge of the stream, but they finally managed it, then saw that the route lead forward in a comparatively smooth trail. two hours they proceeded, winding in and out, twisting and turning as if the designers of the passage had sought to build a labyrinth for some ancient lover's lane. then the way grew suddenly quite rugged and a bit later the boys and their captured captors discovered that they were tramping over a high stone bridge which seemed to be a natural formation of the rocks. all of the time the vines and trees formed the solid arch above their heads, but occasionally sections were considerably lighter than others. "say, where do you think you are going to take us?" mills growled. "out," bob answered shortly. "yeh, when we get out, then what?" "to the nearest jail, where you belong," jim told him. "well, i'm telling you now, i'm not going to no jail," mills cried. "aw shut up," lang ordered. "shut up yourself," mills retorted. "i aint done nothing to go to jail for--" "no, well you've done as much as i have--" "you're a liar." mills fist shot out and he struck his companion a resounding crack on the side of the face. lang's foot went up hard, caught the fellow in the stomach with such force that mills doubled up like a jackknife, screamed with pain, and his feet slipped so that he slid across the rock. "catch him, lang," jim shouted quickly. "he'll take you with him," warned bob. at that the gang leader clutched the rope which held the two but mills was already dangling over the edge. desperately lang threw all his weight on the opposite side. jim and bob sprang to help him, but as they pulled the section of the rope which caldwell had knotted after he had chewed the strands, parted, and the smaller man went tumbling over backward into the rushing stream. the boys dared not stop to help him, but put all their strength into dragging mills to safety. it was minutes before the big man was on the bridge again, and by that time there was no sign of the leader of the gang, although the boys made every effort to locate him. they were panting from the exertion and pale with horror at what had happened. "can you walk now?" jim asked grimly. "yes," mills answered. "we'll be on our way." silently they proceeded and just beyond the next turn they found themselves in the ruins of an ancient court with moss-grown stone seats which faced the east. "looks a bit like one of the temple ruins near cuzco," caldwell remarked just to make conversation. "yes," replied austin, then added with a sigh of relief, "jinks, buddy, the sun is shining through! isn't it great!" "surely is," bob agreed. they looked about and although some of the larger branches of the tall trees interlaced over their heads, the foliage was not so matted and they were sure that either no attempt had been made by the natives to conceal the spot, or any ancient hiding growths had been broken away during the passing years. mills glanced nervously around him and when he saw that they were really in the sunlight, he began to babble incoherently. "think we'd better let him go?" jim suggested. there was pity in his tone and he spoke softly for he thought that this last member of the gang that had taken them prisoners was losing what little reason he ever possessed. "i figure we're out of the passage, but we don't know where we are yet. if we turn him loose he may starve to death before he reaches a settlement or any one runs across him; then, if we let him keep with us until we get out it will be safer to keep him in hand. he can be a nasty bird and after a while some of the effects of what we were through may wear off, then he'll revert to his charming self again and probably try to break our necks," bob answered, and after a moment's consideration, jim nodded that it was the wiser course. "go along," he motioned to mills, whose knees wobbled under him and his fingers fumbled inanely about his mouth. "he's nutty, all right," said bob. they advanced toward the towering ruin, and crossed what had once been a magnificent square with a beautiful fountain playing in the centre. the clear water still trickled up between the stones, some of which were polished until they glistened like fiery opals. the other side of the square was the first tier of a wide terrace, its massive walls seamed in even lines as its ancient builders had laid the rocks with infinite care, one above the other, and side by side. there were a few small fruit trees whose branches were gnarled and twisted; several giant olives which might have been imported from spain hundreds of years ago; tall cactus with thorns sharp as spear points and strong as spikes stuck up like sentinels, while patches of smaller varieties spread over large sections of the sandy soil. the buddies and their half-witted companion made their way slowly around where they could walk safely and presently they discovered a groove. they were not sure if it had once been the bed of a small stream or a path worn through the years by the natives whose abodes had been somewhere in the vicinity, but they followed it because it was easier walking and soon they reached an irregular, winding stairway with a high, stone balustrade on both sides. "let's go up as far as we can," jim proposed. "that's a good idea. from the top we may be able to get our bearings," bob assented. he was usually full of fun despite adventures or danger, but the long hours spent in the passage, the tragic events which had piled themselves one after the other, had left him grave. there wasn't a sign of a grin on his lips, and his usually laughing eyes were mighty thoughtful. "hope we can find a way to the plane soon," said jim as they proceeded upward. "me too," bob replied, then he glanced about. "i say, buddy, the sun is where it was when we started in that passage." "i was thinking of that," jim told him. they stopped and looked at each other. "suppose we were there more than one round of the clock?" "i don't believe so. it's a safe bet we were there twenty-four hours, or nearly. i was depending on the plane clock, so didn't wear a watch." "red cribbed mine when he was searching me," bob said quietly. "eh, why didn't you tell him it was a relation of the green emerald rings?" jim chuckled. "mills was certainly afraid of them." "i thought of that, but i should worry. gosh, red surely--" "here we are on a second terrace," jim interrupted for he wanted bob to forget, as fast as he could, that experience at the rotten log where red had met his fate. "must have been a wonderful structure this," bob answered. he understood why jim had cut in, and was as anxious as the older boy to get the troubles of the last twenty-four hours out of his mind. "seems to me i hear something, a sort of tapping," said jim. they stood still and listened, every nerve tense, but gradually they relaxed for the place was as silent as the bottom of the deepest unopened tomb in the universe. "hear it now?" "guess it was my imagination. come on." they started again, crossed the second terrace, and several times they paused to scan the sky. in fact, they were far more interested in what might come out of the path of the blazing sun than what they would discover on terra-firma, for they both felt confident that their absence had not passed unobserved by their friends at the barracks. "figuring that we tramped twelve or fifteen hours all together, how many miles do you believe we covered?" jim asked when they stopped to rest on the third terrace. "sometimes we went pretty slowly," bob answered. "i know. i was trying to dope it out as we went along. it didn't seem to me as if the passage made many turns, but that's hard to tell because it went up and down, across rivers and probably under sections of the mountains." "sure, but it seems to me we can't be as much as a hundred miles from the top of that little hill, where we started. to be sure, it wasn't very high, but for natives to have a covered way--gosh--i don't know. we did hear that the ancient natives made hidden ways for hundreds of miles; they needed to in order to get away, but it doesn't seem possible that we can have gone a hundred miles--" "anyway, we can't be a hundred air miles from where we started. what i'm trying to figure is the chances of bradshaw and some of the rest locating us soon." "yes, they'll be hunting sure as fate but i'm afraid even if they flew over that place where the planes were left, they would not notice them. those lads did a good job of covering up." "that's right--" "jim, shhh--there's somebody, a white man, sneaking behind those rocks just ahead of us," bob whispered softly. chapter vi. an old enemy appears his flying buddy's announcement that he saw some one stealing about the ancient ruin was made in such a startled tone, that austin, for a moment was deeply mystified. they had been through such a ghastly experience that their minds were not functioning normally, and both of them were instantly on the alert for additional danger. for a minute the three stood still, mills indifferently, but the boys alert and watchful, then suddenly jim began to think more rationally and he drew a deep breath of relief. "it's probably some one looking for us," he declared. "let's go along and catch up with him." but bob caught his sleeve. "put on the curb, old timer, it isn't anyone looking for us," he insisted. "come on, let's lean against the wall as if we are resting and see what we can see. keep your gun where it will do the most good in the shortest time." he stepped leisurely across to the section of wall, and leaned back wearily, while his step-brother also assumed an attitude of fatigue, because he wanted to get more information, not because he was convinced that whoever was about was not a friend. "what did he look like?" "couldn't tell much. he's wearing a grey suit, or a dirty white one, and a dark straw hat. i saw him the first time when we crossed the square. he was up among those trees and i thought it was some kind of wild animal, then i saw him again when we were coming up the stairs from the lower terrace. my first idea was that it was a friend, i was going to shout, but he dodged back out of sight. when i saw him this last time, he was peeking from behind those stones as if he was watching to see which way we are headed. i do not believe he knows i saw him," bob said so softly that jim barely caught the words. "gosh--sure it isn't a native--you know they do hang around these ruins and it may be that he is put here to look out for the temple." "it isn't a native. the ones who are not in the towns are all strong and straight looking and they don't wear white men's clothing," replied bob. they remained as they were carefully considering their next step, and as they stood thinking, their eyes rested on mills who was crouching at the end of the rope very much like a monkey on a string. "he's surely off his bean," jim remarked, and bob nodded his head. "suppose we saunter around, and get as high on this ruin as we can so we can see as far as possible. that's the most important thing we have to do," he said. "yes. instead of taking the side we have been following, let's go to the left. if the snooper is really spying on us we can tell quickly enough. if he isn't, he'll go about his business," jim proposed. "that's good sense. if we find out he's all right, of course we might get some information about getting out of these woods." "yes, and when we get way up we'd bet-[transcriber's note: missing text at this point in several copies of the original book.] "we'll have to do it indian fashion; by rubbing sticks, then we can direct a column that will rise high and show airmen, who are sure to be looking for us, where we are located." "that's our best bet. knocks the spots off roaming about the forest in a circle, besides i expect they are so thick in these parts that even a signal fire would not help us. come along, mills. gee, i feel like a blooming organ grinder. keep eyes ahead and behind." "atta boy. don't give up the ship." the pair started single file with mills going with them either on all fours or with his legs doubled and his hands fumbling about his mouth. his imbecility was uncanny and the boys would have liked nothing better than to be rid of him, but neither of them thought of deserting the helpless man even though his presence added to their danger and the difficulties they must face. leisurely they proceeded across the terrace opposite the direction they had first taken, and although they appeared to pay little attention to the great structure they were traveling, their eyes and ears were alert. they reached the stairway, which was higher and narrower than the lower ones, but as they neared the top, it curved wide and brought them to an enormous circular platform. here they paused and stood taking in the strange, wild scene. behind the boys were two more terraces which appeared larger than those they had ascended, while in front of them stretched the ruins of the once flourishing city which had been built with amazing skill in the shadow of the temple. here and there giant stones remained standing defiantly in spite of centuries of storms, winds and rains; and in spite of destructive hands which had sought to tear them from their foundations. a slight breeze was blowing. just enough to make the cactus creak and crackle; dead grasses rustled softly, slender trees swayed slightly, the leaves of the stronger ones waved like beckoning hands as if they would recall the lost wonders of the past. "i hear that tapping again," jim whispered. they listened for a moment and then caldwell also heard the sound. "it might be a woodpecker," he remarked. "we might believe that if our snooping friend had not shown himself," said jim. "seems to be on the further side. let's try to work around on the further side, but first we best get higher and build that fire. wonder if there is any wood up there." "reckon there must be. this sure is the sort of place that makes one feel creepy; the place and mills together are enough to give a fellow the heaves. seems to me i smell something to eat--" they sniffed the air and as the breeze was coming toward them they made out the fragrance of bacon being toasted. "guess our friend is going to eat--" just then mills tugged on the rope, he raised himself to his full height, his nostrils expanding as he breathed deeply. "he must be empty as a drum. wonder if it would be safe to feed him one of those pellets--i--" but the sentence was not finished. with a wild leap, mills broke away, tore furiously up the nearest stairway and disappeared at an astonishing rate of speed over the higher terrace. "we must go after him, but keep your gun handy." the sky buddies ran as fast as their legs could carry them, but they both knew that mills was setting a much swifter pace. when they reached the next terrace they caught a glimpse of the top of his head as he descended in unhuman bounds, and without a word, the pals ran after him. across the terrace they found, instead of stairs, that the madman had gone by way of a rugged trail, partly overgrown with brush. as they leaped after him, in sections they had to hang on to the tough shrubs, but as far as they could see, mills rushed on without assistance and completely ignoring the fact that a false step would send him tumbling on the giant rocks below. "watch out," jim warned as he suddenly realized they would have to round a bend close to the wall. cautiously they proceeded, and in a moment they were on a small artificially built ledge which looked as if it might have been meant for some sort of observation post, for from its height was a wide open stretch over the city, and when the woods beyond were less dense, a guard might have been able to see for miles. here the boys had to stop for they could get no further, but mills was nowhere in sight. "great guns, he must have been going so fast he went right over," bob gasped, but jim lay flat, wriggled to the edge and looked down. "is he dead?" "no." austin moved back and whispered. "he's all right, but it's a wonder he isn't smashed to a pulp. reckon he had a sort of bump for he's leaning against the wall." "see anyone else?" "no. keep quiet." bob joined his step-brother and presently the boys were staring down at the man who had escaped from them. he appeared a bit dazed, then suddenly he started up vigorously and proceeded along the narrow way toward a row of high stones which looked as if they might once have been a part of the great wall, but now they were standing irregularly several inches apart. at first the boys could see no one else, then close to the far edge of the terrace they made out a tiny wreath of smoke as if some one had built a small fire. "that's where the smell of cooking comes from," bob whispered. "i suppose the thought of food is what started mills off like mad--gee--wonder where--oh there he is." another white man stepped unsuspectingly from between the rocks, stood an instant as if expecting a companion, then he scooped something from the fire and prepared to eat. "can't wait for his company," bob grinned. "if we hadn't eaten those pellets we'd know exactly how empty mills must be." "yes, and i was just thinking of feeding him one. we'd better not watch here too closely, we don't want to be taken by surprise from above or behind." "you bet," bob agreed. "that chap is wearing some sort of dark suit, buddy." "i see, so there must be two here. this can't be the one who was watching us," answered bob. "which means that the other fellow knows, or will know in a few minutes just where we have taken ourselves. you see what's going on down there and i'll be ready to stem any rear attack," proposed jim. "that's o.k. with me, but don't go off anywhere, we don't want to get separated, not an inch," bob insisted. "i won't," jim promised. he placed himself so that he could see the section which curved and not forgetting to watch above, he stood guard while bob stretched out again. austin rather expected they would discover this was some friendly woodsman or hunter who would show them how to get through the forest or to their plane, but in bob's mind there wasn't a doubt as to the attitude of the persons occupying the ancient temple ruin. now the young fellow determined to see what was happening on the edge of the terrace and be thoroughly convinced of the kindliness of the stranger before he made any advance. the man he saw appeared to be consuming sandwiches and baked potatoes and as he devoured them he walked up and down as if anxious to finish. twice he went beyond the boy's range of vision and came back stamping his feet angrily. caldwell was so interested in watching the stranger that he nearly forgot mills, but presently he saw that worthy crouched and moving stealthily forward, dodging from stone or shrub toward the fire. "poor fellow, he must be terribly hungry. perhaps when he gets something to eat and drink he'll get over his craziness," was bob's mental comment. he felt sorry for mills, but there was something so menacing in that slinking figure that he was almost tempted to shout a warning to the stranger. however, when he thought of it soberly, mills was weakened by the hour's experience, the long steady tramp without food he reasoned would not make him a very dangerous antagonist. he wanted something to eat and the boy could not imagine anyone refusing to give him food. "anything interesting?" jim whispered. "no. see the other chap?" bob asked. "not yet." their tasks were resumed and by that time caldwell saw the stranger walking away from his fire. he seemed to have appeased his own appetite, but he did not put out the blaze, merely piled coals over it, left some sort of cooking utensil near by, then started briskly toward the great stones which were all that remained of that section of the edifice. his jaws were working vigorously and in his hand was a hunk of bread and meat which he doubtless determined to consume as he went. the boy wondered what he was doing in the locality, then suddenly he thought there was something familiar about that striding figure. he stared an instant longer as the man drew closer, then he gave a soft whistle. "what is it?" jim whispered. bob sat up, or rather wriggled back. "take a good look at that lad," he said, "i'll watch here." they exchanged places, and jim scowled when his eyes rested on the hurrying man. "ever see him before?" "surely," jim answered excitedly. "the thoughtful lad who carted the gas to the plane when we were on the island coming down with your dad?" "i'll say so," jim answered. he distinctly remembered the day in montego when he had gone to the little town to purchase extra gas. a group of children had been tormenting a hunch-back but had been stopped in the midst of their sport by a military-looking chap who had vanquished them in short order by the effective use of his cane. later, the seemingly kindly man had volunteered to cart the heavy cans in his automobile to where the plane was roosting. he was most cordial and obliging, but the flying buddies later discovered that he had secretly brought not only the gas but the powerful dwarf, who stowed away in the "lark" when he got a chance. hours later, when they were over the caribbean sea, he attacked them viciously. jim had been the one who fought and finally sent the rascal off the "lark" but it had been one experience he expected he should never forget, and now he was staring at the man who had made such a villainous attempt to prevent mr. austin from reaching cuzco. the recollection made him shudder and he wondered how the fellow happened to be in this particular section of the globe. "he won't be a friend of ours," jim said softly. "reckon he lost a bunch of money by not getting his little scheme through, so, if he should happen to discover us we're out of luck." "and how!" "reckon we'd better leave mills and get away from here as fast and as far as we can. shouldn't like to run into that lad--he'd be mighty ugly and we'd have no choice but to use the guns and not miss." they both glanced over again, and then caught their breaths sharply. the man from montego had stopped in his tracks, while mills, suddenly appeared in front of him. the insane fellow's hand shot out, he grabbed the food, stuffed it into his mouth ravenously, but instead of realizing how desperately hungry he was, the montegoean furiously resented losing his meal and landed a resounding punch on mills' head. while he used one hand for the food, mills grabbed the other by the front of his shirt, backed him as easily as if he had been a small boy, toward his own fire. twice he planted kicks in the other's legs, and his powerful hand was twisting the cloth tightly about his throat. desperately the fellow tried to free himself, kicked and struck with his hands, then suddenly he filled the air with shrill shrieks of terror, but these were promptly choked off and he was backed more swiftly. in an incredibly short space of time they were both at the edge of the cliff, then mills raised his victim, shook him as if he were a rat, then with a powerful punch, hurled him out into space. something went flying over the buddies' heads and they glanced up in time to see a small figure rushing down among the rocks. he did not appear to notice the boys, but raced recklessly over the steep incline, leaped down the wall, and leaped like a mad animal across the terrace. the commotion he made seemed to pass unobserved by mills, who was calmly raking the fire and helping himself to the food which had been left. "great scott, that's the dwarf," bob exclaimed, and sure enough the twisted figure was even more unmistakable than his master. the dwarf leaped at mills, who rose just as the rush was made, but his feet were planted firmly, well apart. he did not permit his meal to be interrupted by the attack, but caught the little man much as he had the bigger one. however, instead of hurling him over the cliff, he spread him out face down on the ground and proceeded to sit on him. the dwarf struggled, kicked, bit and screamed but his efforts were futile. "i've read that an insane man has the strength of half a dozen sometimes," jim said softly. "looks as if it's true," bob answered. "one thing is certain, we have to thank mills for bringing our boy friend out of his hole. he must have been stalking along behind us and if it hadn't been for the fight and the yells, he'd have landed on us. that's the way i figure." they sat quietly and had it not been for the seriousness of the situation and their own difficulty they would have indulged in a good laugh. the squirming, kicking dwarf, the undisturbed mills pinning him to the ground while he ate a hearty meal. finally he was satisfied, then he lifted himself, one hand clutching his victim while the other fumbled about the wriggling body. presently he produced a cigarette and he resumed his former position while he enjoyed the smoke. he appeared rational enough and the boys were wondering whether they would be wise to go and speak to him. "reckon we'd better let him alone," bob announced quite as if they had been discussing the matter. "gee, look!" jim exclaimed. they saw a tall indian striding across the terrace and presently he stood in front of mills, who glanced up, then cringed in terror. it made the flying buddies think of the hour when the band had been marching with their treasure and the last man had paused to look at the bandit. now he touched the chap on the shoulder and the two got to their feet. then he beckoned them to follow, which they did as if they dared not disobey. the three hurried across the terrace to the great stones, and then the boys saw the man point to the bottom of one of them. the dwarf stooped, twisted and pulled something heavy out. as nearly as they could see it was a sort of ancient strong box with a heavy cover. mills dragged it eagerly several feet away, and then bob clutched jim's arm. "that stone, look at it," he gasped. "look out," he shouted. but it was too late. the huge stone which had been undermined groaned, tipped, then dropped forward with a mighty crash, pinning the dwarf under its tons of weight. chapter vii. the end of the way "buddy, this can't be real. we must be asleep, or i must be having a nightmare," exclaimed bob in horror as they saw the massive stone completely obliterate the dwarf. "old man," jim said shakily. "let's call it a day and get out of here as fast as we can, but keep a grip on yourself; watch your step." "how are we going to manage it?" "search me, but the thing to hang on to is the fact that we are going to make it somehow." bob tried to grin but it was a sickly effort, and again they glanced down at the scene below. they could see the tall indian walking indifferently across the terrace while mills was just getting the heavy lid off the box which had been dragged from the foundation of ancient stones. it was doubtless the removal of this support which had caused the huge thing to fall and destroy the dwarf; but the lone white man in possession of the treasure appeared to be absolutely unaffected by the tragedy. he finally succeeded in removing the cover and when it was tossed aside the sun shone brightly upon what appeared to be a wonderful collection of glittering jewels. greedily he plunged in his hands, tossing the trinkets up as a miser might, and then he danced about the marvelous find. "come along," jim caught the younger boy's sleeve and the pair turned away from the scene. they made no comment as they climbed back to the terrace, walked thoughtfully toward the natural stairway, and at last began to climb again. on reaching the top they proceeded to the last elevation and arriving there found that it was a huge plateau which had been leveled carefully. there were several streams which ran as if they had been guided around some gardens and then the water tumbled over the edge in a sparkling fall whose spray leaped back fully twenty feet. taking a careful survey of their surroundings, the boys saw that to their left was a strip of woods and through the tops of the trees which were not very tall ones they could see a second clear space beyond. between them and the clearing there was a shallow ravine which they could see grew deeper and wider as it twisted toward the ruins of the ancient city. in one place they saw a wall which had evidently been built to re-enforce the land and prevent the soil from being washed away, but in places the stone work had fallen and the action of water had left a deep, gravel wash. there was little dry timber on the site where they were making their observations and for some unexplainable reason neither of them cared to build their signal fire so near the ruined temple and its tragedies. "let's go a bit further back, set a course through those woods, and get on that bare place," jim suggested. "suits me fine," bob agreed. "it looks lower than this." without further ado they started toward the rocky ledge which rose toward the back, then, facing about prepared to make their way across the ravine through the woods. being first class pilots they made a careful reckoning, noted several easily followed marks by which to set a course, then with a final glance around at the scene made ready to start, but before they took a step they heard a scrambling and a moment later were surprised to see mills, laden with the heavy box, come stumbling toward them. if the man knew they were there, he made no sign, but came half stumbling along bent almost double with the weight he carried. the boys paused uncertainly, both ready to defend themselves should the insane man attack them, but he might have been blind for all the attention he paid to them. as he drew nearer they could see his lips moving, and soon they could hear his mutterings, which were punctuated by queer crackling chuckles as if his throat was parched and dry. "i'm awake, awake," he declared over and over. "awake, and i have it all, every piece, millions of treasure." at that he laughed harshly, then his foot struck against a bit of projecting rock and it took all his strength to keep from falling, but he managed it, although in the balancing maneuver, the box tipped and teetered precariously. mills jerked it tight and then a mass of the shining contents was spilled and went tumbling to the ground. "riches, riches, and i am awake. let it stay, let it stay--i have it all. i have it all, the others have none--i am awake and rich--rich--" the words trailed off into incoherent sounds. he made his way weakly past the boys, pieces of the treasure falling like a trail over the route, and five minutes later he disappeared in a thick grove which fringed the cliff. "gosh," bob said softly when at last mills was out of sight, "he has the treasure." "whew, surely." jim stooped and picked up a handful of the fallen trinkets and as he let them fall again through his fingers, the buddies' eyes met. mechanically they turned their faces toward the trees which concealed their former companion. "a box full of shells--" said bob. "worth four bits a ton," jim added. "whew, speaking of nightmares, if the sandman can beat all this adventure he's going some. seven dead men, a crazy man, besides a band of indians and dressed-up robbers carried away before a broken dam--whew--" "let's get going." bob kicked a cluster of the shells near his feet, then facing about resolutely, started to lead the way across the plateau, into the strip of wood, down the narrowest point of the ravine, up the other side, which was quite steep, and finally they were standing on the clear space they had picked out from the terrace. the site was bare except for a couple of rather large growths more than half way across, and the sky buddies noticed that it seemed to be fringed with a dense timber and long trailing vines. in every way it was an ideal location for their purpose and now they were actually away from the depressing ruins, they sighed with relief. "we've been doing a lot of mooning around," jim remarked cheerfully. "let's make up for lost time." "there's plenty of dry brush for the fire." bob glanced into the sky, then scrutinized the heavens closely, while jim devoted himself to getting acquainted with the vicinity. "not a wing--" but he was interrupted by a hearty laugh which rang merrily from his step-brother's throat. "what in the name of cat-soup and fish is the matter with you?" he demanded, but he stared at this pal anxiously. "you didn't catch anything from mills, did you?" "no," jim answered, then went off again into gales of laughter. it was so loud and hearty that a sleepy echo caught it up and passed it around experimentally until it seemed as if the top of the world was indulging in a grand ha-ha-ha. "hey, old sour-dough, can it! we'll never get anything done if you indulge in hi-strikes--" "ha, ha, ha-ah-haa," roared jim. tears began to roll down his cheeks and he doubled up helplessly as he laughed. "ha-ha-ha," bob repeated mechanically. "ha-ha-ha--" jim kept it up and it came from his very boots. "say, am i so funny?" demanded bob. he was becoming convinced that jim's mind was badly affected by the strain of the past twenty-four hours, and he didn't wonder. "come on, pal, snap out of it--that won't do you any good--not a bit. why, you are acting worse than if some one was tickling the soles of your feet--" "i'm tickled all over," jim gasped merrily. "at what--be yourself or tell me what has set you off--i don't see anything to laugh at--" "no?" "not a thing. this is a serious business, old man, we've got to keep our heads to get out of it." "ha-ha haaahahhhaaa," shouted jim, then he made a slight gesture which seemed to include the entire world. "ha-ha--" "ha--" bob started to mimic him, then his eyes swept swiftly over the place. he turned himself about to look more closely, then, he too opened his mouth and roared with genuine amusement. "ha-ha-ha-ha." it was a soul-satisfying bellow which shook him from head to foot for several minutes, then he pulled himself together. "we don't want to make any mistake." with that he ran to the nearest green pile and began to pull on it. after a moment austin joined him, and although they continued to chuckle as they worked, they had control of themselves. "behold the helicopter," jim cried as the plane began to stand out from the covering of foliage the bandits had put on it. "no wonder you laughed," grinned bob. "when i first saw it i thought i had gone crazy, then i was sure and my giggling apparatus went wide open. gee, to think, after all that traveling--millions of miles it seemed--then to come right back to the place we started from. gosh all friday, it's like finding an everlasting cream puff. whew--aint it a grand and glorious feeling!" "i'll say! if we had built our signal fire over there on the top of the ruin and bradshaw had found us--the plane almost under our noses, howling catnip but he would have had a laugh on us. it was a close shave all right." "suppose i go over the machine and you take a look at the other one. shall we leave it here, or one of us fly it?" jim asked. "don't know that i'm so crazy about going in separate planes, buddy, but they would surely think us nuts to leave one." "that's what i was thinking. i'll pilot one and you take the other. we can mark this section on the chart and have a doctor or someone sent back to get mills. he'll be all right for a few hours and it ought not to be hard to locate him, they can follow his trail of shells. he'll probably spill the whole lot as he goes." "no sense in either of us trying to get him to civilization in one of the planes. if we leave him here, he might come out, just get enough sense to go up in it, then come down in a smash or run into some other machine." "yes. let's get going." whistling and chuckling spasmodically the flying buddies set to work and presently they had the foliage screen out of the way, had wiped the sticky bodies of dead butterflies off the propellers and other parts, examined the control boards, the gas tanks, and then made a tryout test to be sure that everything was as it should be. "oh, gee, this is great. all set, old man?" "contact," bob responded. "fore," bellowed jim. presently they were in the cockpits, the engines roared merrily, it was great to hear them singing smoothly after the long silence and the buddies waved at each other. the helicopter started first, ran a few rods, then lifted almost vertically and when it was off the ground, bob's machine started taxiing swiftly, curved, its nose went up gracefully, then it began to climb, zooming swiftly until it reached the elevation jim had attained. that done the boys smiled with satisfaction, circled about the spot in wide turns only climbing slightly. they took in the entire location, including the site of the ancient ruin, and after several minutes, austin caught sight of mills standing near the fallen stone. they saw the man stare up at them as if their presence in the sky puzzled him, then he bent over the ground and crouched out of sight, as if afraid. having ascertained his whereabouts, the two planes climbed again and when they were well in the ceiling, they leveled off, pointed their noses toward the sea, and with courses set, raced at high speed toward their goal. mills' plane proved to be a faster machine than the canadian mountie's, but it gave a very good account of itself. they had been flying nearly fifteen minutes when suddenly jim spied a plane circling high in the distance. it banked, dipped, turned and came rushing toward them, the british insignia showing plainly on the fuselage. soon it drew close and the flying buddies could see two men in her, one with a glass to his eyes, and in a moment the man waved; it seemed as if he were jumping up and down in the cock-pit, and the boys grinned widely as they realized that he was probably some airman who had spent long anxious hours in search of them. with a wave of his hand the pilot circled about them, then zoomed up, and shot forward at top speed toward the barracks airdrome. "he's taking word in," jim said to himself. it was wonderful to be going back to them, those kindly britishers whose tongue and ideals were nearly like the americans. the little plane quickly outdistanced the boys and presently was only a speck on the horizon, but it seemed to austin, even though the machine was swallowed up in the afternoon sunlight, there remained a bit of the nation's color in the heavens to signify that its fine men were ready to lend a hand, take a fair share of dangers, and understand. jim felt as if it had been years since he and bob had taken off from the smooth run-way, watched the soldiers and people of the town wave after them, the cheers carrying on even above the roar of the machine. since then the flying buddies had contacted with an entirely different sort of creature; it was rather like being dragged through miles of clinging, slimy mud, and what he wanted most of all at that moment was a good bath, but he didn't expect there was water enough in the world to rid them of the unwholesome association of lang and his gang. then he saw bob pointing west of them and glanced in that direction. there were two other tiny specks which also zipped about and came rushing toward them swiftly as an arrow shot from a strong shaft. the boys slackened their own speed, and presently the two planes were racing along beside them, and then bob guessed that the man at the controls was bradshaw and his companion was allen ruhel. with a slight wave of the hand and a brief acknowledgement the three machines roared through the heavens. they were joined by one other plane, and an hour after leaving mills at the ancient ruin, they were gliding down gracefully, while it looked to the boys as if everyone in the province had assembled to welcome them and learn what had happened. soon the helicopter's wheels hit the ground, ran a short distance and stopped. dozens of men came rushing to the side of the cockpit. "where have you been--" "are you hurt?" "what happened to you?" "did you get blown off--" "the whole country has been looking for you--" "it's great that you are back safe--" "thank god you didn't have a smash-up." the queries and exclamations were hurled so fast it was impossible to answer, but in a moment, before jim could loosen his strap, allen ruhel was beside him. "glad to see you, old top. like to hop inside and freshen up a bit?" he asked casually as if the boys had not been gone more than a few hours. "like it better than anything else in the world," jim answered, and bradshaw looked at him narrowly. "anything we can do, just sing out--" "i'd like to know about mom," bob announced a bit chokily, for he hoped hard that she had not been terrified by the news of the strange disappearance. "mrs. austin is quite top hole, you know." ruhel answered. "she wasn't given all the particulars and a cable is off now to let them know that you came in under your own power," bradshaw added. "the first man who sighted you sent it." "thanks a lot," bob grinned. if his family was not suffering the agony of suspense, the rest did not matter, he thought. "come along," captain seaman invited. it was a difficult task to get through the crowd which pressed about eagerly, and hundreds of hands, men's, women's and children's, touched those of the american boys who had come back. in the meantime they were safe, but they must be hungry and worn, although they did not look so bad--certainly not nearly so bad as if some airman had found them beneath the remains of a wrecked or burned machine. thank god for that! thank him especially for the sake of their mother and father--after all, the world was pretty fine. someone began to sing a medley of songs loved by americans, and the sky buddies could hardly keep back the tears. it was wonderful having people who were so jolly to a fellow. "here are my quarters," seaman smiled cordially. "you know them. make yourselves at home--" "thanks a lot," jim said chokily. "er, ah, the doctor is just across the way. by george, he's coming now. decent sort of old sawbones. let him give you the once over, it will perk him up no end, you know--" "we're not hurt at all," jim assured his host. "to be sure, i didn't think you were, but you may as well be a good sport and give the old fellow something to do. er, if you could dig a scratch, no matter how little, just enough to make him think you may be in danger of blood poisoning. we're such a bloody healthy bunch--i'll send him in, do what you can for him." "all right," the boys agreed. chapter viii. when the butterflies die after a good warm bath and a shower which helped the buddies no end, they donned robes and admitted "sawbones," a kindly old soldier whose real name was manwell. he lost no time in preliminaries but in one swift, all-including glance, noted the ridges and welts left by the ropes that had bound the upper part of the strong young bodies for hours, the feet swollen from the long tramp, and the unmistakable dark rings under their eyes which evidenced lack of sleep. "for a pair who are reported 'all right' you look a bit the worse for wear," he remarked gravely. "stretch out on this cot and rest while i take your brother," he added to jim. "all right," austin answered. "we're not really brothers," bob added. "each of us started out with a whole pair of parents, but after jim lost his mother and my father passed on, we looked each other over, decided that in union there is strength, so we got the two grown-ups married. jim was his father's best man and i gave my mother away; that is i agreed to the arrangement as long as jim's dad treated mom all right, but it's understood i fill him full of lead if he falls down on the job." the doctor laughed heartily at this bit of family history. "from all i have been able to gather mr. austin is still going around without any punctures," he chuckled. "yep, haven't even taken down a shot gun," answered bob. "then you feel that you made no mistake," the doctor remarked. "sure," jim put in. "i'd known dad all my life; bob knew his mother all his life, so we sort of guaranteed them to each other. sometimes it doesn't work so good because my dad's got the habit of acting perky because he's got two sons--" "and mom saves the gizzards for jim and when there is only one piece of chocolate cake left, she cuts it three ways; i used to get it all." bob scowled darkly. "looks as if trouble might be brewing," said manwell. "you still get the livers," jim reminded his buddy. "i like 'em better than the gizzards," said bob calmly. he set his lips in a tight line when the doctor's fingers explored sore spots on his body, but although manwell was highly efficient he was gentle and the lad realized it was better to submit to this thorough examination. "your disappearance yesterday caused a great deal of excitement," he remarked. "i understand that you were sighted above the black range. that's a pretty wild section, almost entirely unexplored; considered inaccessible. these marks were made by ropes, or some kind of thongs wound pretty tightly, but as far as i can see you have not suffered any serious injury; by that i mean you do not seem to have been hurt, struck or wounded. it will help me considerably if you will tell me something of your experience. there are uncivilized tribes far back among those hills. you must have been walked for hours--" "we did walk for hours," jim answered, "and we fell in with an uncivilized tribe of white men, not natives--" "white men?" "yes. we were captured by a gang and made to do a marathon; no indian came near us, but we did see a few." "then i do not need to worry about the sort of treatment you might get from natives. i should have known it, for as long as the whites mind their own business, the natives attend very strictly to theirs." the doctor finished his examination of the younger boy, then turned his attention to austin. "we both got the same sort of deal," jim explained. "you'll be all right shortly, i'm sure, but i should like to keep an eye on you both for a few days," he told them, then went on chatting as he worked. "did you happen to see the butterfly flight? i was up with a friend in the morning and saw a little of it." "reckon we saw it all--or a lot of it, anyway," said jim. "pilots avoid them usually for they are apt to gum the works of the plane--" "we were on the ground when it flew over so they did not force us down. it was a great sight, but sort of sad. i didn't know what it was at first, then i remembered reading that they do that every year;--it was thick as a cloud and when they got above us we couldn't see the sky." "marvelous sight, marvelous. now you can slip into pajamas and soft slippers. expect you'd like something to eat," the doctor smiled at them. "naturally i'm keen to know what happened to you, but--" "i say doc, if we tell what happened to us no one will believe half of it, but i reckon i'd like to tell it to our friends from canada and captain seaman, even if it does sound like--" "like a pack of fairy tales," added bob. "i say," there was a knock at the door and the voice was ruhel's. "come on in, we were talking about you," jim called, and the canadian mounty entered without further ceremony. "you're looking fit. if i had a horseshoe i'd pin it on you." "don't those boys want something to eat?" that was the captain's wife, who was positive that her guests were famished. "expect they do," the doctor laughed, "although i cannot see that they have suffered especially from hunger." "we didn't," bob answered, but he did not say anything about the pellets they had eaten. presently the flying buddies were seated in comfortable chairs before a dainty, but bountiful repast to which they did full justice. captain seaman, ruhel, bradshaw and the doctor were in the huge cool living room where the table was set, and although they were all agog to get the story of what had happened to the boys, they kept a discreet silence while the meal was in progress. "professor martin to see you, sir--" before the servant could say anything more, a tall, thin, bespectacled man entered the room impatiently, and the british officer rose, and stared at him coldly. "it is very important that i get in touch with you," the professor declared aggressively. "does it occur to you, sir, that it might be equally important, possibly more so, that you remember your manners, if you have any, and that i should not be disturbed at this moment." his tones were cold as ice and the professor scowled. "i am not usually considered lacking in manners, captain," he retorted sharply. "no?" "no. it is important that i bring this matter to the authorities." "the officer of the day will attend to whatever it is, sir." the captain bowed stiffly, an orderly literally backed the professor out of the room and the boys stared after him in astonishment. "does he own the earth?" jim inquired. "or only an extra pair of socks?" added bob. "he's got a sore head," seaman told them. "came down among the islands with an important expedition as one of several scientists. they are doing a fine piece of work studying insect and vegetable life in the wild sections under a very capable man, chap named morley, but he had to go home a few weeks ago because of illness and this lad martin planted his feet in his chief's shoes, or has tried to. he's succeeded in making himself unpopular with the natives, not only those working for him but the villagers generally. a short time ago they did what you u. s.-er's call, 'walked out on him,' although they had been very satisfactory to morley since he came nearly two years ago. then goodman tried to engage others, but didn't succeed. he is determined to carry the work in a section of the forests which they refuse to enter. he did manage in getting a few half-breeds and full bloods to go on the job, but they quit when the butterflies began to fly to the sea to die. it seems the insects, some of them, set their course above the workers, who are a superstitious lot. to them it is a sign of something, it is not clear to me just what it is." "does he have to conduct the investigation in that particular spot?" jim inquired with interest. "they say he does not. my own men, who know anything of the subject assure me that what they want to study and observe can be found in hundreds of localities. morley and other men of the expedition were of the same opinion, they got along well with the native workers by keeping off their toes and being careful not to infringe with hobbies or ideas. martin has been bull-headed in the matter and wants us to order the indians to go out with him and do what he says. there is something about this butterfly flight; what is it doc?" "i don't know much more than you do except even if there isn't a butterfly in sight for miles, the natives seem to know when they are coming. they just knock off what they are doing and wait until it is over. whatever signs they read from the flight governs their actions but as a rule the majority of them resume their jobs," he explained. "we saw the flight," bob remarked. "yes, one day of it. it takes several days. if martin is sensible he'll take a week's vacation, for not even the negroes will help him now. he may as well turn his attention to something else for the present. how do you feel since you had something to eat?" the doctor asked. "top hole," declared bob. "hadn't you both better have a good sleep now," ruhel suggested. "i'd like to tell you what we were doing before we go to bed. it may be hours before we wake up and in the meantime there's a white man back there--" "a white man?" seaman started to his feet. "yes, his name is mills and he's gone crazy--" "crazy?" this exclamation came from the old doctor, then he turned gravely to the captain. "i do not want to be a butt-in, seaman, but i should like to listen to this story, also, if the boys do not mind, i wish you would permit donald to be present." he turned to jim. "donald is a full blooded native who has spent the greater part of his life with me and my wife. his mother died when he was an infant, she worked for us and we have brought the boy up. in deciding about his life we thought it best to keep him in touch with his own race so he spends a good part of his time with his native relatives. we have given him a christian education, he is interested in things medical; and i do not mind telling you that he has given us a valuable education in many ways." "i am sure don will be interested in what you have to say, boys, and you can depend upon him to the last breath. he's a splendid fellow even if the doc did bring him up," the captain replied promptly. "surely, fetch him along," jim agreed, then added, "but can we make the party sort of private! you are going to hear some whoppers and you'll know whether to send someone in after mills. we didn't dare risk bringing him out." "very good." an orderly went in search of the doctor's adopted son and presently a tall young chap about seventeen years old, with fine manly bearing and a neat white suit but no hat, was ushered in. he was presented to the flying buddies, upon whom he smiled broadly, and then morley explained why he had been sent for. "i am honored," the young fellow nodded. "come along in my office," the captain invited, and soon the party were assembled about a huge table in an upper room. orders were given that they were not to be disturbed on any account. "let's have a look at you," said the doctor. "want to be sure your hearts and things are not going to be strained by lack of rest." he examined them quickly. "all set?" ruhel asked. "you lead off, jim," bob said, so jim started the story of their arrival on the clearing in the forest. he gave the exact location exactly as it showed on the plane's charts and indicators, and when the place was mentioned, donald glanced at the doctor, then leaned forward lest he miss a word of the recital. austin told of the landing, seeing the ancient indian who disappeared so mysteriously, their decision that one of them remain on guard and the boy drew a rough sketch of their location and position. then bob told them of his investigations, how much time he had spent, the sudden appearance of the javarel which split the sapling in front of him, then the three indians, the coming of the butterflies, jim's attempt to reach him and the arrival of the plane which had been forced down by the cloud of insects. "those white butterflies flew over your head?" donald interrupted. "not while i stood there, but when i stepped out of course i got into them," bob replied. "may i ask another question. where did you get those rings you are wearing?" the indian boy wanted to know. jim eyed him narrowly for a moment. "they were given to us by a boy in vermont some time ago. it was during the floods and we carried him and his uncle across lake champlain so they could take the train in new york," he replied carefully. he had a hunch that donald knew something about the rings. "we didn't do much, but everyone was having a bad time, so they gave us the rings because they appreciated getting away," bob added. "thank you," donald smiled. "pardon the interruption," he turned to the captain. "i've seen similar rings and could not resist inquiring." "that's all right, old man," seaman replied. "the second plane landed near us," jim went on with the story, but he omitted the argument over the green emeralds because he did not wish to bring in don haurea if he could help it, although both ruhel and bradshaw had met the scientist when they were in texas looking for young gordon. "if i may interrupt, i should like to ask donald what difference it made whether the butterflies went over the boys' heads," ruhel said. "the doctor spoke of superstitions regarding the annual flight." the dark boy smiled. "it is said that one who deliberately runs into or under them in their flight will meet disaster in a short time, and all with him," he replied. "i see, thank you." "our flying buddies did not deliberately run into them," bradshaw said gravely. "they did not, sir." "great guns, goodman, the professor i mean, did run into them deliberately--" seaman put in soberly. "he did and he endeavored to take workers with him. that is why they deserted him," donald explained. "i see. manwell would have investigated and avoided such an act," the captain remarked, then went on, "excuse me, boys. please proceed with your story." "yes sir." jim took it up, told of entering the forest with their arms bound, the long wearisome tramp, the destruction of red, the loss of the batteries and food. the boy told the tale as simply as possible, and although none of the audience asked another question, there were numerous exclamations of astonishment, and several times one of the men paced up and down the floor as the facts were revealed. at last they came to the brightening of the tunnel, the change of air and finally the appearance of the indian band with their treasures. "when the last of them passed he stopped and looked at mills for a moment, then went on." "stopped and looked at mills?" said the doctor. "yes sir." the old man looked at his young adopted son, who nodded his head gravely. "the man you said that you left back there?" "yes. he's crazy as a bed-bug--" "please proceed," donald urged. "well," jim glanced around. "i don't begin to understand this part at all and i shall not blame you if you set it down as a pipe dream." he turned to bob. "we haven't discussed it between ourselves, buddy, so you listen carefully and check up on what i tell them. chip in if i'm wrong anywhere." "shoot," bob replied, so austin proceeded with the tale of the appearance of the band, through the final destruction of both white men and dark, by the released waters. "i say, don," the doctor's voice was low and not very steady, "is that bloody dam--the place where--" "i believe so, sir." he turned to bob. "you were beside your step-brother, would you please tell us this part of the story as you saw it?" "it's about the same as jim. i had a feeling that it was a dream, but the whole thing seemed sort of unreal and i didn't think of the indian band as different from everything else, not until i came out and was where i could pay any attention to the things separately," bob replied, then he went on telling how he had crouched by the tree, cautiously wriggling until he got his teeth in the rope to chew it apart. jim's appearance just before the task was finished and cutting the lariat with his knife. he proceeded with the account of the indians, the final swirling of the water almost to their feet and its receding as it found the lower outlet. when the boy paused, his face was white and drawn. "suppose you have a drink of this," the doctor urged. he stirred something, in a glass of water, gave some to each of the lads, and in a moment their tenseness relaxed somewhat and the color came back to their faces. "thank you," said jim, then started with the rest of the narrative. chapter ix. the ghosts of bloody dam there were no further interruptions during the unfoldment of the crowded hours of the flying buddies until the final flight for the british barracks. there was a general sigh of relief and a smile when the men listened to that part in which the lads had discovered that they had made a circle in their wanderings and had returned to their starting point. numerous pipes had been lighted and permitted to go out during the recital, and when jim finished, captain seaman struck his tenth match and puffed vigorously. only the doctor and his adopted son did not soothe tensed nerves with the narcotic. the room was as still as if it were empty when the boy's voice ceased, but finally bradshaw broke the silence. "there would have been a howl which could have been heard from chili to quebec if some of the pilots had discovered you lost within a few yards of the plane," he grinned. "surely would," jim admitted. "will you send to search for mills?" bob asked their host, but before the captain could answer, donald spoke. "it will be as well, if i may be allowed to express an opinion, to let him remain as he is for the present." "until the last butterfly passes?" asked the doctor. "yes sir, until the last butterfly passes," the lad replied. "he might injure himself or starve," seaman objected, but he made no move to start the search. "he will not starve, for the forest is full of berries, larger fruits and roots upon which he will learn to sustain himself. he found a fire lighted and will probably have sense enough to keep it going. even if he doesn't, he need not suffer. the ruin has many nooks in which he can protect himself from cold or storms if it is necessary--" "but snakes, or wild animals--" bob protested. "they will not molest him," donald insisted. "if we send air men in after him are they likely to be in danger?" seaman asked quietly. "they are." he turned to the flying buddies. "i believe that you are the first white men who have been through the black range woods, seen what you have seen, and lived to tell your story," he told them quietly. "i've heard that no white man who entered them during the time of the butterfly flight ever came out. as a matter of fact, i understand they have never been heard from again," the doctor added soberly. "we were lucky," jim answered. "i say," bob turned to the young indian. "tell us about this thing, will you?" he glanced about the room. "i'm sure we should all be glad to hear something and none of us will speak of it outside this room." "you can depend upon us," ruhel spoke up. "well--" donald glanced at his father. "donald doesn't often discuss the--er things which are very close to his people," manwell answered for the boy. "not even with us." "there are some things i may tell you," he replied, "but they must not be repeated before the womenfolk. i shall be glad to have this opportunity to talk of them now if we will not be interrupted." he glanced at the captain. immediately that gentleman went to the door, and signaled to an orderly who stood at attention further down the hall. "i shall be occupied here for a time. is anyone in the house?" "no sir. madam has gone to the garden party, and the servants are in their own quarters, sir." "excellent. have a couple of the boys keep watch outside so that no one comes near." "yes sir." "thank you." he closed the door and a moment later they heard the click of heels as the guard hurried to see that the command was carried out explicitly. in the meantime the men puffed, the doctor glanced a bit anxiously at his patients, while the young indian sat as still as if he had been carved out of some fine dark marble. jim's eyes traveled over the well-shaped head, and thought of ynilea, their special friend in the great laboratory, and he wondered if this young fellow might not be receiving some of his training in one of the marvelous underground schools. he recalled that don haurea had told him that the world was ready for some of the information those scientific men had proved and it was possible that this lad, because of his advantages as a doctor's son might have been chosen to bring out for humanity medical or surgical truths still unknown to modern life. he remembered too, that the doctor had said that donald had "been an education" to himself and his wife. perhaps the story the lad would tell them would answer the questions austin dared not ask at this time. he rather hoped they would get an opportunity to be alone with donald before the "lark" was ready to take them north again. "it seems to me you boys are making a rather long day of it," said bradshaw with a scowl. "why remind us of that? this looks like the best time in the world, and if we know a little of the truth of the black woods and the dam, we can go to sleep in peace and not spend hours tossing around while our feeble brains try to find a solution--" "feeble is good," said bradshaw with a grin. just then they heard the two guards pacing back and forth and the orderly returned to his station in the hall. "guess it's all set," the captain told them. "you know," donald looked at their host, "that doctor manwell adopted me when my mother died. i was a baby and he and his wife have been most--" "why not skip that part?" the doctor put in quickly. "i shall try not to embarrass you, sir, but i may as well mention the fact so everyone will understand," he said, then went on, "they have brought me up as carefully as if i were their own son, taught me themselves, hired tutors, and sent me to good schools--" "that you ran away from, you young rascal," the doctor chuckled. "you had already taught me all they could and i wanted to be with you, work with you," he replied. "as long as i can remember some of my own race have been near me. it has always been my privilege to visit them and they too have instructed me. i am especially interested in my father's profession and with his help hope to carry it on--i hope i can become as honored as he is--" "my boy, my boy--" "please don't interrupt. that's not cricket," said bob. "pardon me." "because of this desire in me, my own people have taught me the numerous herbs which grow hereabouts, the chemicals that can be extracted from them, the trees, soil, and even insects. i have not learned a great deal as yet--" "i may as well throw in a bouquet myself. everything he has shown to me is new to medical science, and has proved of great value in curing illnesses considered incurable," the doctor told them. "thank you, sir. as well as these matters, i have learned much about my own race, its traditions, history before the conquest and the destruction of the empire. all of these things are fairly well known to you, so i shall go to the story of the temple ruin the boys visited earlier this morning. it was an ancient city long before the spaniards visited these shores, had a large population, while many of its leading men knew of the ynca empire to the south. the tribes frequently traded with each other, and it was the ambition of our race to extend the northern section of the development to meet that of the yncas which ended, at the time of the conquest, at quito, which was the last great station on the royal road," he paused, and jim nodded. "we've seen some of the ruins," jim said. "no doubt, the land is full of them. in the temple were men and women, the best of the tribes, who recorded the traditions and history in sculpturing, carving, weaving and the knotted twines which are still found in certain localities. the range of the andes mountains which separated us from the southern empires was, and still is, a great barrier. there were no horses, wagons or other means of building, but construction was going on constantly. then our ancient prophets who foretold many things with great accuracy, and read the signs in the skies, the rocks, and the mountains, grew very sober. they foretold that the empire to the south would be annihilated almost entirely and a new race would take complete possession of the whole country." "those prophets surely knew their onions," bob remarked, and donald nodded. "they met with the great men of the land, and for the next hundred years they ceased to build in the sections of the black woods. they devoted themselves to planting great forests, to cutting ways through the mountains which are still undiscovered by the white men, and quietly started a community far from the coast, and so distant from other tribes that their existence in the new community was unknown. each new generation studied the signs, and although many of the people were discontented because of the activities carried on, which were in opposition to their own desires, the younger prophets continued to verify the findings of the old men, so that no change was made in the plan. the people who did not believe that it was possible for a strange race to come here and survive, separated themselves from the others and resolved to remain where they were. however, they did assist in the construction of hiding-houses and passages to which they could flee if the threatened danger ever came. the southern empire was growing both north and south and our people, some of them, were sure the others lacked what you now call a progressive spirit." he smiled at the flying buddies. "great old spirit," bob remarked. "over a hundred years from the time of the first prophecy, tribes coming from the northern islands began to tell strange tales of a race which came out of the sea in winged boats, spit fire from sticks, and threw red hot stones which caused everything they struck to crumble and fall. they dressed in a shiny metal and mounted themselves on strange animals they called horses, whose hoofs trampled men, women and children. they spoke of their king, made amazing promises to the natives, stole gold and jewels by the boat-load, and forced the tribes to work for them and pay them tribute." "generous little habit those middle-agers had," said jim. "the people of our land heard these stories and most of them withdrew to the fastness they had prepared for themselves, but the others refused to credit the strange stories and could not conceive of any race making slaves of them. they built themselves more hiding places, buried their treasures, made circuitous passages through the thick forests and filled them with spiked traps, deadly snakes, vipers, and treacherous bridges which would fall as soon as any weight was put upon them. they deserted their city and temple, and stripped it of its wealth. in the course of a few years the white men appeared in their boats, threw their hot stones, or bullets, fired their guns, and marched into the land. they found, here in the north, a few wild tribes besides all that was left of our people who had remained behind." "reckon they wished they had gone when the going was good," said jim. "one day they learned that a new army of white men was coming, so a band carrying the treasures of the temple with them started by a roundabout route to join the distant community. they marched through their passage to a deep meadow where they expected to find an opening by which they could continue their journey, but they discovered that a solid wall rose in front of them and that behind it a stream had formed a good-sized lake. some of the men went to locate a route around this. while the others waited, the white men appeared with their guns, armor, horses and blood thirsty dogs. they destroyed the band, took the treasure, and being unfamiliar with the country, started their horses up the cliffs, which were rugged and appeared possible to ascend. in the struggle and the scrambling, stones were loosened, a stream burst through and the entire wall gave way, killing them all." "but that was hundreds of years ago," protested jim. "yes, over four hundred," donald replied. "the men of the band who went in search of a passage met a party of hunters from the new community. their prophets had foreseen the disaster and these men were on their way to help their people if they could. when they reached the spot they saw the destruction which had been wrought and grieved deeply, for among the dead were many of their own relatives." "pretty tough," said bob. "one of the old prophets from the temple was with the party. they spent three days at the lake, fasting and praying to the sun, then they cursed the site, the black woods, all that was in it, and all that came into it. as they prayed the heavens grew dark, although it was day; a great comet shot across the sky, leaving a long pathway of green light which did not fade for many hours. by this sign the men knew that their prayers were answered. they cursed the place again, willed that the spirits of their slaughtered companions should return every year through all time as long as the white butterflies passed over the land to the sea; that the white men who had destroyed the band should repeat their crime and again take their punishment as meted out to them by the stored-up waters of the lake." "whew," exploded bradshaw and he mopped his forehead. "they further willed that any man who deliberately forced himself into the woods and under the butterflies should find destruction before the moon changed," the boy went on solemnly. "that while the spirits of those men of the temple walked the earth, if one of them gazed on a white man, met his eyes, that man should go mad, should live the life of an animal, so that no animal should injure him, but he should burrow in the ground for shelter as long as he lived, and that he should thus pass a span of years equal to the life time of three men--" "good god," whispered ruhel. "they surely made a good job of it while they were at it," jim said softly. "the last we saw of mills, he was digging in," added bob, and there was no mirth in his tone. "and he's got three life-times to serve," said the doctor sadly, then added, "i have seen two men in the forests who seemed to be doing the same thing--they are so old no one knows how many years they have lived." "that is why i said we must leave mills. he would fight you like a demon, probably injure your men who tried to help him--" "he picked up that chap who was with the dwarf and tossed him about as if he were a rubber ball," bob reminded them. "the strength of a man who is insane," said ruhel. "we've had some dealings with them in canada, powerful woodsmen, and it takes almost the whole force to overcome one." "guess we've all had such experiences," said seaman. he smoked thoughtfully and stared at donald. "now you know the story of the bloody dam. there are few of the natives who really know the tale, but every year someone brings out evidence that the black woods must be avoided; many legends have grown up about it, and neither the natives nor the negroes will go into it at this time of the year. you are in charge of this section of the country, captain seaman, my father and mother have made their home here, so i received permission to tell you the story that you might understand," he finished impressively. "thanks no end. it will probably save us many difficulties," the captain answered, and he gave no sign of doubting the strange tale. "i've been in these parts many years and i've seen queer things--" "jinks, isn't there any end to the curse?" bob demanded. "surely those old fellows ought to be satisfied with four hundred years of punishment." "and their own people have to be a part of it," jim added. "as long as the butterflies make their flight to the sea," donald replied. "the black woods and range are really a small area of land, probably about fifty miles square, and all white men will do well to keep out of it." "it's a small space to avoid, considering the extent of the land where one can travel with safety," said seaman. "it happened to be on the edge of my province and i'm willing to give it a wide berth, but it does seem as if there must be some way of cleaning it up." "better concentrate on cleaning up things nearer at hand," the doctor advised, then he turned to the buddies. "in spite of my son's story i can see that your lids are heavy. you must not make your bodies pay too dearly because of your adventure. get into a couple of bunks and forget the world for the next few hours." "reckon you are right," jim replied, and he did have difficulty suppressing a yawn. "we shall not need rocking," bob added, then he held out his hand to donald. "thanks a lot for telling us what it was all about. we have to hang around here for a few days until our plane is in ship shape again. she bumped her nose on an iceberg, or something like that, and has to have her face lifted. hope we see you again before we leave." "my hope is the same. rest as my father advises and when you have waked perhaps the captain will send up an american flag to let us know that all is well with you--" "nothing of the kind," the captain declared. "but i'll have the boys run our own flag up and down so you'll get the word quickly." chapter x. an invitation it was not yet sundown when the sky buddies finally got to bed, and as bob said, they did not need to be rocked; they went to sleep almost as soon as their weary heads touched the pillows. long after breakfast had been served in the captain's home the next morning they opened their eyes at about the same minute. shades had been drawn to darken the rooms but through a crack jim could see light, so his first thought was that he had probably rested about an hour, but bob had a view of the clock which contradicted such an idea. "wow," he exclaimed, seeing that his step-brother was awake, "it's tomorrow, old timer." "g'wan," jim growled. "i've hardly been asleep." "go back if you want to, but i'm hollow to my boots--" "then hustle up and the trouble shall be immediately corrected." that was mrs. seaman who had been listening for a sign that her guests might soon begin to feel as if they had caught up with the sandman. "is that a threat or a promise?" "both. good morning. my husband looked in on you a couple of times before he went on duty, and said to let you have it out," she smiled. "i'll have the orderly run the water for your baths and you can take things easy today. those are orders," she told them. "and we always obey orders," jim answered. now that he knew it was late, he banished the idea of another doze, stretched, yawned, and would have thrown a pillow at bob if they had been at home, but guests in a stranger's house have to be more circumspect. their toilet did not take very long, for in the warm climate few clothes are required, and presently the pair, feeling fit as a couple of fiddles, presented themselves to their hostess, who looked them over with frank approval. "you appear to be top hole," she said. "and we are," jim assured her. while they were at breakfast one of the men came in with word that the boat was leaving for the "bug settlement" to take doctor manwell on his weekly inspection of the workers. donald was making the trip with his adopted father, and if the flying buddies cared to accompany the expedition, there was plenty of room and they were quite welcome. "that's the place martin is managing, isn't it?" jim asked. "yes. they were having some difficulties yesterday, but i expect it is over by now. those disagreements come up and pass quickly. i have also been invited, and i have been delighted to accept. mrs. manwell and a couple of other women are also going along. we'll have rather a jolly time." "sounds mighty interesting to me," bob told her. "then it is settled that we go. donald will come and let us know when they are ready to start," mrs. seaman explained. half an hour later the indian lad, neat as a pin in his fresh white suit, arrived to escort the party to the launch. they drove from the barracks, out though the little white town with its conglomeration of ancient and modern dwellings and small stores, along the shore road where they had a wonderful view of the water, blue as a sapphire, and finally stopped on the wharf where the doctor, his wife and the rest of the party had already assembled. mrs. manwell was a kindly looking woman, somewhat younger than her husband, and she presented two young friends, phyllis and barbara harding and their mother. "we have been planning to take the trip to the 'bug settlement' for some time," mrs. harding told the flying buddies with a cordial smile, "but we residents of the islands are the greatest procrastinators in the world; it is only when we have guests with us that we exert ourself to show off our country." "bob is a bug-nut; crazy about insect and plant life, so he'll have a whale of a time," jim told her. "i enjoy seeing what people are studying, but i haven't got as much brains for it as buddy." "we'll have a picnic lunch and you can see dr. manwell's clinic. he takes care of both the natives and whites, babies and all," said phyllis, who was a jolly sort of girl. "it'll be great," bob declared enthusiastically. "i suppose you would prefer traveling by plane," mrs. manwell said. "it's quicker, but we like to be on the earth sometimes and have a good look at her. look at those fishes!" a whole school went scooting past, some of them darting out of the water as if they too were thoroughly enjoying themselves. the boat made its way about a quarter of a mile from the coast, its nose plowing a deep trough and its stern leaving a wide triangular trail of rollers and foam. there was just enough breeze to make the trip delightful and the picnickers jollied each other at a lively rate as they sped along. it took nearly an hour to reach the mouth of the small river they expected to go up, and when they finally turned inland the change from the vast expanse to the narrower waterway, with its swamps, extravagant growths and forests, made the flying buddies exclaim with wonder. "wouldn't you prefer to be flying?" barbara asked. "this is immense," bob told her. "i suppose the men of the expedition have an airplane." "they have two," the engineer answered, "but only one is at camp now. it's a triple motor with a cabin, but the pilot has been sick for a couple of days so it has been out of use. the other chap flew to jamaica to get some special equipment and will not be back for a couple of days." "my father is to see from what the pilot is suffering," donald remarked. "he did not let anyone know he did not feel well until this morning." "i hope it is not anything serious, poor fellow. he should have been brought in to town, it seems to me." "we wanted him to come, but he insisted he'd do all right if the doctor came and looked him over," said the engineer. "if he would be better in town, we will fetch him back," dr. manwell announced confidently. they were making their way through a swift pass between high, overhanging cliffs, and ten miles further along they saw the outskirts of the tiny settlement with its rows of tents, log cabins, community houses, and native's quarters. there seemed to be very few persons about, but a couple of white boys came to meet the boat when it reached the dock, and caught the hawser the engineer tossed to them. "i suppose you want to go right to the village, sir, but i thought our young american friends would like to go around the loop and get a good look at the works, whatever is near here," the engineer said, and he glanced at the buddies. "that's an excellent idea. it will not take long. i shall visit my patients, and suggest that the ladies of the party get things ready for our picnic luncheon," the doctor proposed. "we will do that, and some of us may be able to help you," barbara spoke up quickly, because she had made up her mind that when she was old enough she was going to be a nurse. the plan was adopted, and as the landing party was helped ashore, the two southern boys eyed the flying buddies with interest. "where is professor martin?" the doctor inquired. "he went off with a party of natives early this morning. they have been angry with him, so i guess he's trying to square himself by giving them a feast and a holiday," the older lad replied. "that's good. he'll find that he will make much better progress if he is a little patient in his dealings with them," said the doctor. "i suppose that is why you two lads are alone." "i don't like the prof. and don't care about his parties, but the native children and their mothers, most of them, went along with the men. i guess they are going to hunt and have a great time, but i'd rather stay when you are due," the younger lad answered frankly, and the doctor smiled. "all ashore who are going ashore?" the engineer called. "got the luggage?" "everything and everybody," laughed phyllis. "then we're off." the hawser was drawn in, looped about its own hook, the engine started again, and the launch went chug-chug-chugging back into the middle of the stream, the party on shore waved, and the buddies waved back. "its great of you to think of taking us around," said bob. "it occurred to me that you would get a better view of things, a more general one, if we went around the loop. by that i mean up a branch of the river and across into where the main stream turns. this water does more twisting around than you can shake a stick at, and when we first came down we had to do a lot of exploring before we knew that it was all one stream, not half a dozen. the pilots helped with that job. any other way would have taken weeks, for the forest is so thick in most places that a man has to chop his way through. the site of our principal investigations is an island, really, and the bug-men seem to have found more specimens than they ever realized existed. i didn't think much of the job when i got it, but i'm as interested as all the rest in what they have accomplished," howard went on pleasantly, and both boys thought he was splendid. "we heard that it came here under another leader," jim remarked. "it did, and believe me, it won't be long before the present incumbent gets his walking papers. that's one thing the pilot is going to engineer in jamaica, because martin is a bad man. he thinks he knows everything, won't listen to anyone, and has caused more trouble in a few weeks than we've had in the two years we've been here," he told them. "too bad he's such a die-hard," said jim. "now, here we are. look ahead there, i'll go a bit slow. see that scaffolding way up high?" he pointed to the right and the boys saw the framework above a thick roof of foliage, and even as they watched, could see a couple of men moving slowly along it and apparently examining something with magnifying glasses. "are they getting specimens?" jim asked. "yes. they have discovered that insect life exists in layers. the bugs that live above that foliage screen are different from those below it, and in a place as high as that, there are sometimes several species in the woods underneath." "expect they get some wonderful butterflies," said bob, who had a fine collection of his own at home. "indeed they do. you can see them before you go. they have dozens of cases, and have already sent crates of them to the museums all over the world." they passed this first station, and then putting on more speed went rushing swiftly over the water, which was dark green and very deep. the boys were intensely interested in this part of the trip, and when the men in the stations noticed the boat, they shouted to howard and waved greetings to the visitors. "do they mind being away off alone?" jim asked. "reckon they get homesick sometimes, but there are radios, and that sort of thing in camp, and when the job is finished they will each get a good vacation to make up for such a lot of hard work. here we can go ashore." howard ran the boat close to the land, made it fast to a sapling, and then led the way to where several men were busy collecting, assorting and classifying the lower strata of insect life. they all nodded a cheery greeting to the guests, showed them some of the exhibits, and the paraphernalia, and bob was so interested that he wished he could spend a month with those busy fellows. "you will get a chance to read about what we have accomplished and that will be easier than staying here," one chap laughed. "gosh, a fellow would like to live half a dozen lives to take in all the good things that are going on," said bob. "great age we're living in, but even a bug can teach us no end." "we are going all the way around, so we'd better start," howard reminded them, so with a sigh, caldwell tore himself away, and presently the three were back in the launch, chugging off from the shore and its interesting workers. they made two more stops before they reached the branch stream, where the researchers were all stationed on high scaffolds. "their stuff went to camp yesterday, so you wouldn't see anything different," howard told them and they chugged by. the branch was so narrow and winding that it took all his skill to pilot his boat, and the boys were thrilled with the wonders all about them. there were hundreds of great vines, heavy with fruit and flowers, enormous interlocking trees through which birds of brilliant plumage flashed swift as streaks. some of them called hoarsely to the boatmen, while others, far back, paused in their flight to trill their own sweet melodies. hundreds of monkeys of all sizes chattered at them or swung from branches with inquisitive glances, and twice, impudent rascals threw pieces of wood defiantly after them. they saw a couple of little fellows leaping along the shore evidently curious about the great rollers the boat left behind it, but when one extra large wave swept over the leader, he leaped to the nearest tree and scolded roundly. "you were looking for it," bob chuckled. "like to take one home?" howard asked. "the boys have caught a few, but they usually let them go." "i'd rather leave them here where they belong," bob answered. "i do not believe they would take to an airplane." "oh, you don't? that's where you are wrong. the pilot who went to jamaica found one stowed away in his bus when he first came down, and he's been with him ever since. the little pest won't leave the machine as long as he has his aviation suit on." "tell us another." "that one is true. when they get up where it's cold, he gets into the chap's pocket and pulls down the flap. that's a fact. there was a story about it in the papers and a picture of the pair of them in the plane," howard insisted. "reckon we'll have to believe it." jim eyed a small monkey who was clinging, frightened to his mother. "if it wasn't for your parents, i'd take you along," he called, and as if the mother understood, she ran along the branches until she was ahead of the boat, then stopped and scolded furiously. "it's all right, you needn't get so het up about it--i haven't taken him." "he's admiring him, you flapper," bob shouted. "you should be flattered instead of mad." "now we're on the last stretch," howard announced as the boat turned again. "it's five miles by water to the village; three by airline." "it was great of you to take us around," said jim. "surely was," added bob. "glad you liked it. we don't usually take parties over the route because they are not always careful, but i had what you american boys call a hunch that you would appreciate it and not do any damage. the site of the work isn't generally known because the professors did not want to be pestered with too many visitors, but a few have come. some of the scientific publications have sent writers to get articles, but several of the men working here send out that sort of stuff themselves, so only special men have been taken around the works," howard explained. "sounds as if we are nearing the village," jim remarked a bit later, because he heard voices quite distinctly. "we are near, and not near. we couldn't get across here, but it's only about a quarter of a mile if we could go through. it's a mile and a half by the boat." "suppose they did not want to cut the place up too much." "no. they have had to do a lot of that anyway," howard answered. they were going through what appeared like a natural passage over which the great branches formed an arch, and through the openings, the boys caught glimpses of numerous parrots, some plain green, almost the shade of the trees in which they perched, while others were gaily colored with bright red and yellow, their long tails hanging gorgeous and graceful. "i should not mind having one of them to take home to mom," bob remarked, "but she'd be displeased if i caught it and brought it away to live the rest of its life in a cage. my mother doesn't like to see things confined." "on the cross-bar ranch all the pens and corrals have to be huge. even the pigs have spacious quarters; so big they won't fatten. the foreman built a small one where she doesn't notice it," jim added with a grin. "doesn't she miss them?" howard asked. "he's managed so far to see that she doesn't," bob replied, "but he's lucky that she keeps away from the pigs pretty much." "i see--" "o--o--" just then a shrill scream came so clearly and sounded so startling that the flying buddies sprang to their feet. "o--" "is something the matter?" jim asked quietly. "that sounds like a woman's scream," bob added, and their faces paled as the panic-stricken cry came again. "it is a woman," howard answered, and he opened up his engine, putting on every ounce of power he dared, and bending low as the boat shot along the treacherous waterway. chapter xi. revenge! revenge! "have you got any guns aboard?" jim asked tensely. "no. there are a good many in the settlement and at the stations, but i've never bothered to carry any on the boat," howard answered. then again came the frightened cry of a woman, followed by a number of screams, which stopped suddenly as if a hand had been placed over the mouth that uttered them. with straining eyes the buddies tried to peer through the tall, impenetrable foliage which grew on both sides of them, while the engineer stared tensely ahead lest he send his boat on the rocks that lined the way. it seemed to them as if hours passed, although it was only a few minutes before they raced around the last turn and shot forward into a wider stretch of water at the further end of the village. at first they could not see anything unusual about the community, but as they went along they made out a confused collection of native men and women. the white people among them appeared to be herded in the middle, and the moment the engine was silenced, startled voices cried protestingly, as the huge indians crowded close. jim heard one voice above the others, speaking a language he did not know, and recognized don's clear tones which sounded cool and determined. howard brought the boat up to the beach, but he hesitated a moment. "thinking of taking some of them off?" bob whispered and the man nodded his head. "looks as if the natives have jumped on the whites for some reason or other," he answered. "i don't want to hop out if we can get the women away, but those fellows look ugly and our chances are mighty slim, i'm afraid." "wait here for us," jim said softly. then he leaped ashore, his hands dug deep in his coat pockets, and bob, not knowing what was in his step-brother's mind, followed suit. "better keep on the outer edge of them," howard warned. "we will!" jim ran a few yards, and yelled at the top of his lungs. "you fellows want a bomb or two right in the middle of you?" he drew one fist up as if it held something large and deadly, and a few of the men faced him quickly, but the others merely crowded closer to the white women and sneered defiantly. "no kill own women," one declared. "don't kid yourself," jim reported quickly. "i'll blow up the lot of you in about a half a minute." he looked exactly as if he meant every word of it, and he did, but there was nothing more dangerous in his pocket than a small flashlight. then he saw donald standing close beside his mother and father, whose arms were bound with thongs. "what's it all about?" he demanded. the young indian spoke to the men nearest him; presently there was a silence, and he faced jim. "i am glad that you appeared with your bombs, mr. austin, you and your brother, but i pray that you will not use them immediately. i am sure the men here will listen to reason," he said elaborately. "they won't have much time to listen to reason. where i come from we make a practice to shoot or throw our bombs first and apologize afterwards," jim snapped, and his eyes blazed furiously. "i heard those women scream. tell those fellows to take their hands off, or i won't listen to anything--not a thing!" "i will," donald said quickly. both boys knew that a good many of the natives understood perfectly what was said, and now those who were nearest to the belligerent-looking young texans stepped away from their captives. donald interpreted the speech, and the other women were promptly released. "that's better. now, what's the trouble," jim thundered, and was glad that his voice was a deep one. "professor martin took a party of men, women and children into the woods. they thought they were going to have a party and a feast but he lead them to the black woods, into which they will not go until after the last butterfly has passed over to the sea." "yes," jim snapped. "he guided them into a passage he had found which lead them through the thickest part of the forest. some of the men got suspicious and asked questions, then they all refused to go on, but the professor had herded the women and children ahead of him along with a couple of huge brutes he'd picked up in town. they forced the women to go on, and threatened to shoot the men if, they did not come with him and work where he wished." "i see." "they went along and were coming up a grade, when they heard strange sounds, the tramping of many feet. they broke and ran back." "well." "they could not bring the women and children with them, so to be revenged, they came back and determined to kill every white woman and man they found here." "yes." jim was thinking hard and he certainly wished that his pockets were full of explosives. "they gathered up friendly tribes to help them, and landed here about half an hour ago, took possession of all the guns in the settlement, drove the native women away, and captured the white women," donald explained. "don't they know the professor will come back with their families?" bob asked. "at this time none may come back from the black woods," one man declared sullenly. "none comes out alive." "the professor, who is a fool, will himself never come back. he took children, our children, to their deaths," another put in darkly. "for the loss of them, we take the white women," snapped a third, and his hand went toward phyllis' shoulder. "hold off," jim snapped, stepping forward quickly, and the hand remained suspended in the air. "now, listen to me, you fellows, i'll get your women and children out of the black forest, or woods--" "they will be dead--none comes out alive--never since the curse of bloody dam." "let me tell you something, you men. i was in the black woods, i've been at the bloody dam, my buddy here and i were there the first day the butterflies started their flight, and we came out alive--" "you lie--" "i do not lie. we heard the baying of the dogs, saw the fall of the stone wall, the wall on which the ancient prophet stood when he cursed all who entered the black woods--" "you saw and heard?" an old man came close. "did one of them look into your eyes?" the voice shook and the man's lips trembled. "none looked into my eyes, nor my buddy's eyes," jim answered solemnly, "and we came through, past poison snakes, over rotten logs, and now, on the ancient ruin there is a white man into whose eyes the last man of the band gazed. the man is mad, he was digging a hole in the ground when we saw him last." "this is true," donald added; then he spoke in their own tongue and the natives stared at the two white boys as if they were beings from some other world. "how can you bring our children back?" one asked and his lips were set in a firm line. "there is an airplane here. we will go to fetch them. howard, who is in the boat, where there are more bombs, will stand guard. you must let the white women go to the shore and no man must lay a hand on them until we return. do you understand?" "you will go to the settlement for soldiers," one snarled. "i will go to the black woods, to the bloody dam if need be, for your children, and i will fetch them back. i do not lie," he declared with great soberness. "you shall go. the white woman may assemble near the boat with the engineer; but if in three-quarters of an hour you have not returned, they shall all be destroyed," the old man answered, and the other nodded their assent. "you have been in the black woods and you cannot lie," a younger man spoke sharply. "if we do not hear the loud purr of your engines in the time set, they shall die. while you are gone, many of the friendly tribe will post themselves so that they will know if you do not keep your word, and if but one soldier appears, all shall be killed." "i'm not worrying," jim answered, and wished clear down to his boots that the statement was true, for he was frightened. "can all the natives speak english?" bob asked. "you mean those with the professor?" donald wanted to know. "yes." "a few of them can." "good. now, where is that plane? howard said it had a cabin. how many women and children did they leave behind?" "about fifteen or twenty," the indian lad answered quietly. "if we cannot bring them in one load, we can in two," said jim, but he kept his fists in his pockets as they went to the shed into which the plane had been run. it took only a few minutes to get her engine warmed up, the flying buddies were in the cock-pit, and jim turned to donald. "is there likely to be more than one passage through the black woods?" he asked. "there is only one. these men say they were climbing most of the way, if that is any help as to direction." "thanks. don't give up the ship." "good luck." no one waved when the huge airplane lifted off the ground, spiraled over the little group assembled near the water, with their dark-skinned guards standing close by. bob looked over the side and saw a number of the naked men making their way into the wood to points from which they could give warning if the soldiers or workers connected with the settlement came to help the prisoners. from up in the air the situation looked even more serious than from on the ground, and the buddies exchanged anxious glances. "i'm banking on the fact that they were climbing up hill. as i remember it, we went pretty level for a while, then began to descend over a rough route," said jim through the speaking tube, for the plane's equipment was not very modern. "hoping they'll come out on that hill?" "that's the idea." "remember the chart readings?" "surely. i sketched the place and location for captain seaman," austin replied. "but suppose we do not find them, or find they have been killed?" caldwell's lips were grim. "if we took that information back to the natives, the women would be slaughtered." "i know," jim nodded. "don't you think you'd better take word to the settlement? there are little towns around here and someone could get a note through to captain seaman--" "and he'd get killed trying to bring them out! if we dropped a message, some of the natives might get hold of it, and buddy, we haven't got a second to go down and find a white man." after that they sat silent as the huge machine thundered up over the hills, past villages, white and native, over the ridge or the nearest range, over rushing rivers, and finally in the distance they were sure they saw the black woods which stretched for miles wild and desolate, particularly at this time of the year, when a funeral somberness seemed to hover over it and its ancient tragedies. on they sped, and at last bob pointed toward a high bare clearing and there beyond the ravine arose the great stones of the ancient temple ruin, where they had left mills. eagerly the lads scanned the cleared place, then their eyes went over the ruin, but not a sign of a human being did they see in either place. glancing at the dial clock, jim spiraled in wide circles which included the two places, while bob searched vainly for a sign of the professor and his kidnapped band. "maybe we guessed wrong," jim said tensely. "let's drop down anyway," bob proposed. "reckon i'd better," austin agreed, but his heart was hammering against his ribs and his fingers were so cold he could hardly handle the stick. he shut off the engine, circled and finally they dropped near the opening lang and his men had forced them to enter. for a moment they waited, then jim released his safety belt, and prepared to hop out of the cock-pit. "i'm coming along," bob announced. "wish you'd stay here, buddy. if i have to run for it with some of those people, we might be mighty glad to get off quickly." "well, all right." bob slid into the pilot's seat. "i've got a hunch that martin must be crazy. wish you had some sort of gun." "second the motion, but i haven't. i'll pick up a club." austin dropped to the ground, hurried to the edge of the woods, paused long enough to arm himself with a stout club, then leaped on the log and a moment later was hidden from his buddy's sight as he disappeared into the passage. "gosh all hemlock, i'd rather be going along with him than sitting here," bob grumbled uneasily as he tried vainly to catch a glimpse of his step-brother. but, except for the swaying of the long vines which partially concealed the entrance, there was no sign that a living soul had entered the terrible passage. through caldwell's mind raced the memory of that awful trip with their arms bound and he felt as if he knew every inch of the route over logs, rocks, traps, streams, holes, snake dens--to bloody dam. he gasped, then he shook himself with grim determination. "nice sort of codfish i've developed into--with a back like a jelly fish." caldwell proceeded to upbraid himself roundly for his lack of courage, but the recollection of those white women back there in the settlement, surrounded by grim natives who knew how to read the white man's clock, and were even now watching the minutes tick away made him shiver apprehensively. when the last one passed, if the boys had not returned with at least some of the women and children, alive and unharmed, the fate of mrs. manwell, her kindly husband, the hardings, and any white men who appeared, was sealed. "if we do not get there on time they will be sure we sent for the soldiers," he said softly, and he glanced at the control board, but with an effort managed to restrain himself from looking at the time piece. he wondered dully what jim was doing, how far he had gone, and whether he was safe or had fallen a victim to some section of the passage with its numberless pitfalls. resolutely he searched the sky for a sign of another plane, but saw nothing, although once he thought he heard one. however, he attributed this to his over-wrought imagination. he considered starting the engine to keep it warm, then he remembered that the noise would drown any shouts or instructions jim might try to call to him. straining his ears, the boy tried to distinguish some sound, but only the noises of the desolate forest reached him. not even the song or chirp of a bird relieved the oppressiveness of his surroundings. cold fear clutched bob's heart like great icy fingers, and his teeth chattered, as his brain called up the horror of the position he was in. he thought again of the white women, waiting tight-lipped for their fate, whatever it might be; he thought of professor martin whose stubborness and determination to make the natives obey his orders had brought such difficulties, and this minute threatened the little band he had forced to follow him; then the british officer at the barracks whose wife was in gravest danger; and jim alone there in the passage. he shook himself vigorously, stretched his cramped legs, moved from side to side on his seat, and glanced about the spacious cabin which he prayed would soon be filled with the wives and children of the natives. he glanced across the clearing toward the ruin, and wondered what had happened to the indians they had seen around the place. his eyes sought the tiny pool with its trickling stream moving so quietly one could hardly tell it was there, and wished he dared hop out and drink of its cool water. his throat and lips were dry. from a distance bob thought again that he heard a plane, but it was faint and he could not find it anywhere in the sky, although he searched hard, in an effort to get his mind off this anxiety. he knew there were several mail and passenger routes between the two countries but he was far off their course, so it was not likely to be one of them. there wasn't a cloud, even a tiny one, in the whole sky, so every pilot going from south to north, or back, could follow his course as easily as if it were a green line in a new york subway passage. he sighed wearily, and wondered what time it was, but forced himself to keep his eyes off the clock. he feared lest the limited time allotted had passed. then, he sprang up, for far off he heard a muffled scream. it came from the forest and sounded as if someone were being tortured. again it came louder than before, and with mechanical fingers that flew over the buckles, he freed himself from his safety belt, leaped out of the cock-pit, and ran as fast as his legs could carry him to the entrance of the passage. chapter xii. the fight in the passage when jim ran into the passage, he was hoping against hope that this was the way the stubborn professor was coming with his captured party, and that they were not so far from the entrance that it would be impossible to get any of them back in time to save the lives of the white men and women held prisoners. glancing at his watch he noticed that the minutes had been ticking themselves away at an alarming speed. he took a moment to look at the ground and could easily see the foot prints made by the gang; his own and bob's showed especially plain in the soft spots, but he dared linger only long enough to assure himself that none of them led out. everyone went in, as he was going, which meant that, if martin was in that secret route, he had not as yet reached the hill. running as fast as he dared with the light of his small flash his heart beat anxiously, lest after all, his hunch had been a bad one and he could not find any of the natives. he blamed himself roundly for not taking a chance to get a message to the barracks warning captain seaman of the danger in the village, and urging him to send a force with all speed to rescue the party of white people. now, that it was almost too late, it seemed to the lad as if there were a dozen things he might have done, and that he had chosen the most foolhardy of them all; the one least likely to succeed. with his mind harping on this discouraging strain, his feet carried him swiftly on and on. he thought of bob waiting anxiously in the plane and was rather glad that his part of the task was not sitting still while the moments sped by. keeping a sharp lookout on all sides, especially under his feet, he proceeded and made up his mind that he would not go very far. surely the professor had sufficient time to be near the grade, and the boy calculated he must have come into the place by some branch route which the gang had missed as they were led by the reckless red and his dim illumination. five minutes passed, then suddenly austin's heart leaped hopefully, for he was positive that he heard muffled voices ahead of him. believing that the professor was more than half mad because of his ineffectual efforts to push the work of the expedition and make better looking progress which would place him permanently in command of the work, besides bring him honors when it was finished, jim restrained an impulse to shout to the party. martin was sure to resent the appearance of anyone who might attempt to interfere with his plans, and also, he was well armed, the natives had declared. with these points in mind he proceeded much more cautiously, and at last he reached a bend where the tunnel widened considerably, then narrowed as it led over a stream. the spot was familiar to jim and he recalled how difficult it had been for himself and his buddy to manage with their arms tied. but before he reached the bridge, he saw the secret way was well lighted ahead, then he heard a shrill scream and the rushing of feet, which seemed to be going away instead of coming toward him. quickening his pace, he moved close to the wall, shoving along and screening himself with the hanging vines which were thick at this point. again came the awful yell and the boy ran as hard as he could go. a moment more and jim was at the bridge, then he looked beyond to a lower plain and was astonished to see a man, crouched like an animal and running almost on all fours. his back was to the boy and from his lips came the piercing snarl which was enough to make anyone's blood run cold. standing, as if he were paralyzed with fear, was the tall, thin professor, his clothes bedraggled, his mouth open and his eyes staring hypnotized by the awful creature facing him. another cry, then the professor shrieked at the top of his lungs. behind him were huddled the little band of natives, mostly women and children, while the two burly fellows brought to assist in the kidnaping, faced about and ran off as fast as their legs would carry them. from a few of the children there came terrified whimpers, but most of the natives were quiet. the crouching man gave a shrill scream, mumbled something about his treasure, his riches, and then martin seemed to come to life. he backed away, started to turn, but caught his foot on an exposed root which would have sent him headlong, but the man in front leaped like a monkey, caught him by the front of his shirt, and proceeded to shake him as if he were a rat. the powerful hands drew the cloth tight and tighter, until martin's head dropped back, then mills, for there was no mistaking the identity of the crazy fellow, raised him high above his head, and smashed him to the ground, where he lay still. horrified, the lad stood, then suddenly he felt a hand on his arm and bob was beside him. "can we get them out?" he whispered. "i hope so," jim replied. just then one of the native women saw the flying buddies, and austin beckoned to her to come to him. she hesitated a moment, then, pushing her children ahead of her, she made her way around the murderer and his victim. mills calmly seated himself on the dead body, searched through the clothing until he found tobacco, and rolled himself a cigarette which he puffed indifferently. the one native woman reached the boy's side, then others cautiously followed, until finally they had all passed, and with thankful hearts, the buddies hurried them as fast as they could walk up the incline, across the level stretch, and finally out into the afternoon sunshine on the top of the hill. "well, what's this?" it was bradshaw who was awaiting them, and stared in wonder at the strange group. "help us get these people back to the settlement," jim said breathlessly. "there isn't a moment to lose, bradshaw. gee, i'm glad you came along." "wanted to have a look at your friend mills," bradshaw told them as he proceeded to help. "guess i missed the lad, for i didn't find him," he added. it took only a few minutes to tumble the majority of the natives in the bigger cabin, and three into the helicopter. the engines were started, and the planes raced in a circle, hovered in the air to learn where they were going. then jim set the course, and putting on all the power he dared, raced the big machine as she had never been raced before, through the heavens toward the settlement. they had gone a little over half way when the clock in the dial board announced that the time limit was up. austin verified it with his own watch, and bit his lips anxiously. he did not give up hope, but prayed that howard or don, or perhaps the doctor would be able to persuade the natives to give them a few minutes grace. he glanced at bob, whose lips were set, and his eyes scanned the route as far as he could see. finally, three minutes later he made out the winding river and soon could see the settlement. to his joy he noted that the little group were standing almost as they had been left, near the boat, with howard seated before his engine, and the white women and young people nearby, with their native guard. as they zoomed at top speed, the white men turned their faces upward. the engines were shut off, the two machines glided gracefully to the ground, the native passengers shouting gleefully to the members of their families. quickly the men who had been so determined on revenge, rushed forward and caught their loved ones in their arms. presently jim was out of the machine and he saw donald standing near him, a watch in his hand. "i find that you have half a minute to spare," he remarked. "yes?" "exactly. i held my watch, which is a new accurate time-piece, and while i did not object to dying when the three-quarters of an hour was up, i did object to such an unpleasant ending to the lives of my esteemed parents. it is possible, of course, that the hands stopped occasionally--barely possible," he grinned. "oh, i was blue when i saw how the time had passed," jim said. "expect you were. don't know that i should have cared to change places with you." then followed explanations from all concerned and unconcerned; bradshaw learned why he had been urged to nearly tear the wings off his plane, and when the danger was past, the natives awkwardly tried to thank the buddies by presenting them with gifts, while mrs. harding nearly went into hysterics, which the doctor hastened to bring her out of with a good shake. "buck up, buck up. where's martin?" he asked bob. "mills met him in the passage and killed him." the party looked sober. "twice you boys came through the black woods, but martin, who forced himself under the butterflies, met destruction before the change of the moon," said donald quietly. "that's right," jim nodded, "but it looks to me as if the curse of bloody dam was made so that fellows who aren't evil-doers may pass unharmed even through the black woods." "perhaps that is so," donald answered, then went on with a smile, "and perhaps a kindness rendered a hunted lad named yncicea and his uncle brought a blessing so great that against it the curse is not effective--" "perhaps," chuckled bob, then added softly, "i don't mind telling you that we're mighty happy at having met that lad at my uncle's farm." suddenly his mood changed. "when do we eat?" "there is food in the basket," mrs. seaman answered, "you boys must be hollow as drums." she made a brave attempt to shake off the horror of the hour through which she had just lived, and barbara harding came to her aid. "let's brace up," she urged. "we'll all feel better when we have had something to eat." "suppose we take the food and eat it on board the boat on the way home," mrs. harding suggested. "i feel as if i cannot leave this place too quickly." her face was white as if she had suffered a long illness, and her eyes rested upon her daughters, who were safe, but she dreaded remaining with them in the encampment where the white people were so greatly out-numbered by the natives. this plan was accepted by all of them, so they made hasty preparations to depart, while the natives, the more reasonable ones, realizing that their act might bring serious difficulties to the tribes, pitched in to help, and many of them ran to their own quarters to bring presents as peace offerings. "we feared our own women and children were in danger, or dead," one reminded mrs. seaman, who promptly held out her hand to them. "i understand," she said kindly. "you need have no further fear from professor martin. he brought about his own punishment and i am happy that your families are safe." the man bowed low before her. "we are your servants," he answered--but could say no more, for at the moment the air was filled with the thunder of many airplane motors racing nearer and nearer. the eyes of the flying buddies turned instantly to the sky and were astonished to see twelve tiny specks in a perfect v formation, racing without deviating an inch from their formation, high in the blue heavens. quickly the boy took out his handkerchief, broke a twig and tied the corners to make a flag. "fix yours the same way, buddy," he said crisply. the planes were growing at an amazing speed into huge shapes as their pilots crowded on every ounce of power. the boys wondered how the captain could have learned of the trouble, for as far as they knew no one had informed the soldiers, but here they were and his heart sang with thankfulness that they would find peace and quiet instead of death and destruction. "here you are." bob handed over his flag handkerchief, and jim ran with the improvised pair of signals, to an open space, while the natives stared. he marveled at the formation of the thundering machines, one of which he saw was a bomber, and at least two equipped with machine guns. they were swooping now almost to the bend in the river, so austin waggled a message to the pilots and hoped they would understand the scout code. "all o.k.; all o.k.;" he waggled and instantly the leader's nose shot up, his hand went to the side of his cock-pit and his men followed him in a steep climb, after which they zoomed high, circled, while jim went on talking to them with the flags. "everybody is safe. no one hurt. all o.k." the machines made two turns above their heads, then the engine of the leader's plane was throttled and he glided like a great bird to the ground, made an admirable three-point landing and stopped. instantly a man leaped out of the cock-pit and started forward. "what's the matter?" he demanded. "it's my husband, my husband," cried mrs. seaman and she ran to meet him. a moment he held her close, then braced his shoulders, and faced the others. "a native sent a message that the village had been attacked and you were all going to be burned to death," he gasped. "we might have been, but we are not," dr. manwell answered. "thank god you are safe, but, what was the idea?" the captain persisted. he had to shout because the planes were still racing near enough so that they too could swoop down if there was any sign of danger. "martin got a crazy idea that by kidnaping the natives' families he could force the men to push forward the work he was doing and enter sections of the forest which they feared." "great heavens, was he insane?" seaman exploded. "i should not be at all surprised," the doctor answered, then went on, "whatever ailed him, he has already paid the price of his folly. the natives thought that their wives and children had been killed or would never come out of the black woods, so they came back with other tribes, bent upon revenge. we can hardly blame them. they happened to find us all here; took possession of the weapons in camp, and before any of us realized the danger, they surrounded the women." seaman's lips were set in a tight line. "i was busy attending to the pilot who has a bad infection, so did not know what was happening until i heard my wife scream. we were all surrounded, then howard, who had our young american friends on a tour of inspection, appeared in the boat. fortunately the lads had bombs in their pockets--" "bombs--" "yes and more in the boat," the doctor answered emphatically, as if it was quite usual for american boys to go about with explosives. "the natives were reasonable and the buddies promised to bring the women and children back. they did, and all is well--" "thank heavens for that--" "let us all forget it, dear," mrs. seaman urged her husband. "the men were frantic with fear for their families, even as you were just a little while ago, and we cannot blame them for trying to retaliate. none of us was hurt, and now you find us quite safe." "surely," the captain agreed, then he saw bradshaw. "how did you happen to be here?" he asked. "i was looking for mills, saw the expedition plane instead, and hung about to learn what was doing. after that, i did pilot duty and turned the helicopter into a passenger plane," the canadian grinned cheerfully, then added, "i take it that further details of the exploit can be made later." "all right. now, doctor, how about that pilot--should he be taken to a hospital?" "i'll take him to my house and look after him a few days, if you have no objection. i do not believe that he is in danger, but it will be just as well if he has good care for the present." "suits me," answered captain seaman crisply, then he turned to his wife, "care to hop home with me, dear?" "i should like to," she smiled at him. "before we start i wish that you would assure the natives that you will not punish any of them." "of course," he agreed. he called some of the leaders together, and when they were assembled, he shook hands with everyone. speechmaking was out of the question because of the noise, and the tribesmen held up their hands as a sign that they were eternal friends. after that it was arranged that the doctor, his wife, donald and the invalid pilot should be taken back to town in the community's huge plane with the flying buddies, or one of them, at the stick. mrs. seaman was to have a place in her husband's machine, mrs. harding and her daughters would fly with bradshaw. presently all were ready except the captain, who paid a brief visit to the native's quarters, reassured them of his friendship and ate salt fish with them. when that ceremony was completed, they came with him to join his party. a bit later the planes were ready, the big one led off with its passengers and the sick man, bradshaw followed, and last came the officer's ship. they rose swiftly, the british planes circled about them, received their orders by signal lights flashed in colors, and fell in behind the others, while the officer again took the lead; heading in a bee line for home. jim was as excited as if he were a part of some grand maneuver and tried hard to keep properly in the formation with his huge plane, which must have looked a bit odd racing among the other slim, efficient planes of the british government. the boy glanced at his passengers, who seemed to have completely forgotten the dangers through which they had passed, and were thoroughly enjoying themselves and the trip. bob was, of course, beside his buddy, and the two exchanged delighted glances. austin wondered what his brother would say if it were not so noisy, but later, when they came down in the field's runway, the younger boy grinned widely. "i've had as grand a time as a bob-tailed cat with a kettle of fish," he announced. "wouldn't have missed it for a million." "what i want to know is where you boys got those bombs," the captain said as he hurried up to the machine. "if you find out, we'll pin a horseshoe on you," bob promised with a laugh. "didn't you have a blooming thing?" "surely," jim replied gravely. "my fists and an electric light flash." "come along in--i want the rest of the story," the officer chuckled. "and, like the little boy by the cookie jar, you won't be happy until you get it," said bob. just then a pair of orderlies appeared with a stretcher, the pilot was carefully lifted out and taken off toward the doctor's home. "i shall send congratulations to mr. and mrs. austin on the splendid conduct of their sons--" dr. manwell began, but jim cut him short. "when dad hears of donald's trick with his watch, sir, he will keep the wires buzzing congratulating you and mrs. manwell. we were over four minutes late--" jim said. bob laughed and changed the subject abruptly. "i say, i'm as hungry as a flock of lions. when do we eat?" he demanded, and the party started quickly for the house and the larder, lest the young fellow devour them all then and there. hal kenyon disappears by gordon stuart [illustration] the reilly & lee co. publishers . . . . chicago ------------------------------------------------------------------------ copyright, by the reilly & lee co. printed in the u.s.a.-- ------------------------------------------------------------------------ contents i mummy caÑon ii something about dr. byrd iii a fall from the air iv the wreck and the aviator v lost! vi the scream in the waterfall vii a badly frightened boy viii hal's discovery ix hal a prisoner x the mystery of the leather bag xi convincing bad xii airship plans xiii the "painter" xiv building the airship xv stolen wealth xvi flight xvii exploring the cave xviii the island in the air xix the rescuing airship xx the panther and the cave xxi to flathead by airship again xxii clearing hal xxiii the boy scouts of the air xxiv mountain lion bridge ------------------------------------------------------------------------ chapter i mummy caÑon "mountain, pine tree, cañon, gulch, cookies, bacon!--like 'em much. canteen, hike-stick! hi-hi-hike-stick! lakefarm! mummy! flathead!--ra-a-a!" thirty lusty juvenile throats, strong with frequent exercise, caused mummy cañon to ring with this school-yell. it was almost evening, and the boys of lakefarm school were on their return from a day's outing in the mountains. clad in boy scout uniforms and wearing rough rider hats, they presented a picturesque appearance in that wild, rocky, mountain country, while their school-yell echoed among the hills, bright in the setting sun. it was midsummer, yet thirty of the forty-four regular students were in attendance during the summer term, evidence of the popularity of the school, for they were all boys of the age that welcomes vacation time with cheers. in spring this cañon was a beautiful place; in summer it lost some of its freshness, but was still beautiful; in fall it lost more of life, but beauty still clung to it; in winter, it was a picture that called for deep admiration. it also might well have been named echo cañon; indeed many in that part of colorado often called it that. but mummy cañon it had been christened, and this was the only name by which it was known on the maps and in the guide books. interesting stories were told about this great mountain gorge. they had to do with the ancient inhabitants of the country, the cliff-dwellers, ruins of whose homes were to be found here and there high up in steep places. the boys of lakefarm knew these stories by heart. they had been told over and over and added to until enough new and interesting details had been gathered around the original stories to fill a book. dr. regulus byrd, head master, chief scout, and owner of lakefarm, was as peculiar as his name. some called him eccentric, but the boys of the school and the friends of the doctor did not agree. the boys loved him as few schoolmasters ever are loved; the older people of the district declared that when it came to a pinch, dr. byrd never lacked judgment. the doctor and the two instructors of the school, mr. frankland and mr. porter, were with the boys on the outing from which they were now returning. mr. frankland was a short, brisk, wide-awake man, who smiled frequently and shrewdly. mr. porter was an odd personage, dignified and very positive in all things, but an excellent instructor in manual training. after the procession had advanced well toward the heart of the gully and given two or three school-yells that raised the echoes, mr. porter said: "dr. byrd, we're only three miles from home. why not stop here, build a fire, and sit around and talk a while?" "that's the stuff," came from several of the boys at the same time. dr. byrd had a boy's heart, and as there was no good reason for opposing the suggestion, he gave his consent. in a jiffy the boys scattered in all directions in search of firewood; up the side of the hill and along the near bank of a noisy mountain stream, and soon were returning with armfuls of dead wood. most of them were experienced in building camp fires in true frontier style, and the work progressed rapidly. two of the boys, hal kenyon and byron bowler, were delegated to the work of starting the fire. this was not done by striking a match and touching it to some dry leaves. the method employed was one more suited to the romantic scene. first, hal and byron searched until they found two serviceable pieces of dry cottonwood root. having good, strong, sharp pocketknives, they proceeded to whittle and shave the roots. one was made flat and about three-fourths of an inch thick; the other was cut slim and round and sharpened at both ends. in one edge of the flat piece was cut a notch, and close to the notch was sunk a hole to fit one end of the slim piece. then a small hand-piece with a socket for the other end of the drill was prepared by byron, while hal cut a section of a small green limb, two feet long, which with a thong made a bow. all the material needed for starting a fire was now ready save a supply of tinder. this was obtained by rubbing a piece of dry cedar on a rough boulder, producing a handful of easily lighted shreds. the notched piece of wood was now placed on a flat rock, the drill was inserted in place and the string of the bow looped tightly over it. then the top-socket-piece was set on the other end for a handle, and the bow was drawn back and forth, the notched piece being held in place under the foot of the operator. hal kenyon operated the device. the drill revolved rapidly in the socket, and presently a fine brown powder was flowing into the notch. in a few seconds this powder was smoking densely and slight fanning with a hat brought a flame. some of the tinder was now applied and after a little blowing, a tiny flame leaped up. the rest of the tinder was then applied, followed by some cedar bark and small wood. pretty soon the fire was roaring and crackling, while the boys piled on more fuel. "now for our camp-fire yell," cried hal when the last armful of fuel had been deposited on the burning heap. immediately the cañon rang and echoed with thirty young voices chanting the following: "camp-fire, rah! smoke-punk, ha! tinder, lakefarm! rah--rah--rah!" this yell was repeated several times until it seemed as if the rocks poised aloft would be shaken loose and come crashing down on the reckless boy scouts. then the boys scattered again, each returning presently with another load of fuel, which was deposited near the blazing pile. "well done, my lads, well done," announced dr. byrd as the last load was dropped. "now what are we going to do next?" "eat supper," replied allie atkins, with a slap of his hand on his hungry region. "of course; i almost forgot that," laughed the doctor. "i'm always forgetting my stomach. that's the reason i haven't dyspepsia. always forget your stomachs, boys, until they remind you of their existence and you'll be all right in that spot. but what are we going to eat? nothing left, is there?" "how about the fish?" inquired walter hurst, commonly known as "pickles" because of his fondness for that table delicacy. "that's right. this is just the time and place to cook them." the suggestion was followed accordingly. the fish--two score of mountain trout--had been caught by the boys in the rio grande several miles to the east early in the morning. as they had enough other food for breakfast and dinner, their catch had been saved for the next morning's meal at the school. of course the doctor had not forgotten the fish when he asked the boys what they would eat for supper. but he always appeared to have a poor memory and few ideas when on a trip with his scouts. he made it a rule to compel the boys to suggest and do every useful thing within their power. so they prepared the meal on this occasion, as they had done on others. fireplaces were constructed with stones, frying-pans were placed over them, and the fish were soon sputtering appetizingly. fortunately, they still had a moderate supply of bread, butter, jam and coffee, so that all appetites were fairly well satisfied. the pans and coffee pots and cups were washed in the dashing stream, the remains of the meal were cleared away, more fuel was thrown on the camp fire, and all gathered before it for the next number of the unprepared program. for a few minutes the boys chatted on the incidents of their three days' hike and exploration. then one of them suggested: "let's tell stories." a proposal of this kind under such circumstances is always favorably received by true boy scouts. there was a general note of approval, and dr. byrd inquired: "well, what shall it be first?" "flathead mountain," suggested pickles. "good!" exclaimed frank bowler. "and have somebody slam somebody in the face," proposed clayton white, the joker of the school. "that'll suit 'bad.'" frank bowler had been nicknamed "bad" because he was continually talking about "clipping somebody on the jaw," or "slamming some one in the face," or "putting somebody to the bad." "i'll push you one on the chin if you don't close your face," growled "bad" in an undertone to the last speaker. clayton only grinned. he was not at all afraid, as he was a year older than frank and thought himself stronger. "well, who has something more to add to the story of flathead?" inquired the owner of lakefarm. "i have," replied hal kenyon. "very well, hal, we'll listen to you first," announced the doctor, and all became attentive with a readiness that indicated almost military training. chapter ii something about dr. byrd it was well known how mummy cañon obtained its name. high up on the face of a bluff was a large rock, almost human in shape, in wrappings like a mummy. mummy cañon had not yet attracted the attention of sight-seers. no railroad ran near it, and only a rattling stage-coach line carried visitors between the nearest depot and the small settlement of jamestown, or "jimtown," as it was popularly called, near which dr. byrd had located his boys' school. dr. byrd had served many years as a physician on english ships visiting the orient, and, by both inheritance and good fortune, had become wealthy. when about fifty years old he found that the heat and dampness of the tropical climate were undermining his health and that he must heed the warnings of nature. so he returned home, but in london found that his throat still troubled him, and he decided that he most move elsewhere. his children being grown and married, he and his wife sold part of their personal effects and came to america. then they traveled about a good deal, trying to find a climate that would promote better health for the doctor, but every place they visited proved unsatisfactory until they reached colorado. the altitude of this state, second highest of all the states of the union, together with the atmospheric conditions, proved "just the thing." but where should they make their home? denver was delightful as to climate, but the doctor was not contented there. he loved nature, to be out of doors; he had no patience with clanging street cars, smoking engines, and houses huddled together. so they began their search anew. one day they stopped at lake city and took a stage-coach ride over the la garita mountains. the vehicle was only a rattling two-seated open buggy, drawn by four horses that might have pulled a plow over any american field, but it was dignified with the name stage-coach. the driver was a young man who had a contract with the government for transporting mail to and from various mining points along the way, and he added to his profits by carrying passengers and all manner of light freight. along the foot of the mountains they rode for several miles, then up a grade and around a spur of a perpendicular hill, up, up, up, winding here and there, overlooking deep gullies, dashing downgrade into a ragged valley, with its noisy brook; then up again and on and around they wound to where the pines stuck in the mountain sides like toothpicks. in the course of this journey they passed through mummy cañon. but this gorge had not yet received its name, and when the imaginative dr. byrd beheld the "swathed form" on the face of a lofty bluff, he called attention to it. "that's the mummy," said the driver in a matter-of-fact way. "it looks just like an egyptian mummy," declared the doctor. "does everybody call it that?" "everybody around here does." "what's the name of this cañon?" "'tain't got none. i s'pose it'll get a name one o'these days when more people settle 'round here." "it's going to have one right now," announced the doctor. "its name is mummy cañon. i call you two as witnesses of the christening." "you'll have to stay here a while and tell everybody or the name won't stick," laughed mrs. byrd. "and that's just what i'm going to do," was the surprising answer. "i'm going to make my home right near here--with your permission, of course, my dear. this is just the country i want to live in. it's good for my health. it's good for my eyes; i like to look at it." that settled it. mrs. byrd was amiable and happy to live in any place where her husband's health could improve. moreover, she, too, was delighted with the scenery and praised it almost as much as did the doctor. but there were other features of special interest in the cañon. this part of the state had once been inhabited by the cliff-dwellers, prehistoric pueblo indians. ruins of their early dwellings and defenses were to be found here and there, although usually they were in such dilapidated condition that it was difficult to make out their character except at close range. the "mummy bluff" stood out high on the side of a most remarkable mountain, especially noticeable because of its shape. the sides looked unscalable and the top appeared to have been cut off clean and level with a monster knife, a few hundred feet lower than the neighboring lofty peaks. before leaving the cañon, dr. byrd gave a name also to this mountain. he called it flathead. the doctor was well pleased with "jimtown." in fact, he was pleased with everything now. the mining settlement was booming when he and mrs. byrd arrived. it was located close to the side of a mountain; a few of the houses, in fact, stood a short distance up on the steep slope. the place was so busy that nobody seemed to have time to notice the arrival of so humble a pair as a london physician and his wife, and they selected a site and built a home without attracting any particular attention. the site was located near a pretty mountain-spring lake that fed a tributary of the rio grande. it was about three miles from mummy cañon. the scenery of course was beautiful, as it is in all of mountainous colorado. the lake was clear and cold. it rested in a pocket more than a hundred feet above a delightful valley and behind it was a range of tall, steep, snow-capped mountains. the outlet was down several natural terraces that converted the little river into a succession of dashing cascades before it reached the valley. this place was several miles from "jimtown," the nearest settlement. dr. byrd engaged servants and began the cultivation of a considerable farm. the beauty of the spot and the personality of the settlers soon attracted attention, and several others moved there and began the cultivation of farms. before long a post office branch was opened and the stage-coach line ran two miles out of its way to deliver mail, groceries and general supplies. meanwhile the doctor made acquaintances rapidly. he was a most entertaining person to meet. he had traveled extensively and seemed to know the world. he had an excellent library and a magnificent collection of curios from many countries. moreover, he had a delightful personality, tall, straight, athletic figure, kindly intelligent face, and a shock of curly iron-gray hair that commanded the admiration of all who saw it. but the doctor's best friends were boys. and there was a reason for this. the boys whom he met always found in him a best friend. he knew all about them, their likes and dislikes, their sports and their hardships. he had a vivid recollection of his own boyhood days, and he could reel off yarns by the hour. just put him into a company of youngsters and let him begin: "when i was a boy," and everybody was all attention in an instant. of course there were not many boys living in the neighborhood of the new mountain home, but there were a good many in jimtown, where the doctor soon became a familiar figure. and there was always company at "lakefarm," as he had named the place, and the "company" always was urged to bring the boys along. frequently they would remain at lakefarm after the grown-ups had departed, and every summer the place became "a regular boy ranch," as one visitor called it. finally the doctor got so interested in "boy-ology" that he resolved to open a boys' school. manual training had become quite the fashion in the making of young men all over the country and this appealed to the owner of lakefarm. so he let his ideas become known and was astonished as well as pleased at the indorsement they received. five years after settling at lakefarm dr. byrd built a schoolhouse and a shop and a dormitory on his farm, engaged instructors and servants, and then announced that he was ready to receive pupils. it was surprising how rapidly the school was filled. in two weeks dr. byrd announced that he could receive no more, and the registry list was closed. most of the boys were of either wealthy or well-to-do parents. naturally this was an almost necessary condition, as the tuition and living expenses at an institution of this kind were not the lowest. but to offset this, the doctor made arrangements for receiving a few pupils on nominal payments or free of charge. one of these poor boys was hal kenyon, whom dr. byrd found selling newspapers on a street corner in denver. hal proved to be such a bright lad that the owner of lakefarm decided at once to do something for him. hal's parents were willing and he went to school in the mountains. three successful and happy years had passed since the opening of the school on lakefarm. meanwhile the settlement around the school grew until the census enumerator reported fifty families. previously the town had been known as byrd's place, or just byrd's, but now the subject of a permanent name arose and a meeting was called to settle the matter. flathead was the name selected. after this the name of the school was changed in the popular mind. officially it bore the title of lakefarm institute, but soon it was spoken of frequently as flathead school, while some humorously played on the idea suggested in the name and styled it the "school for level-headed boys." this latter pleased dr. byrd very well, for it expressed his purpose in a few words, to develop in his pupils a liberal supply of common sense. chapter iii a fall from the air that was the history of mummy cañon, flathead mountain and lakefarm institute. the mountain was partly visible from the school. on their return to the farm from mummy cañon the boy scouts would have to walk on through the cañon, past old flathead, and up the stream that came dashing noisily down from lakefarm and joined flathead river north of the big gorge. the peakless mountain was located near the lower end of the cañon, and it was from a bluff on the mountain side that the "mummy" stood forth. before the sun went down the scouts could see the outlines of this freak of nature from their position at the camp fire, but as it sank beneath the high horizon and the cañon grew dark, both the bluff and the "mummy" were lost to view. but presently the moon rose over old flathead. under such circumstances hal kenyon began his legend of the cañon, relating it as follows: "flathead mountain was once a giant. he was the biggest giant that ever lived. his name wasn't flathead then. his head ran up to a peak, and the people called him sugar loaf. "but his heart was made of stone, the hardest kind, and his brains were all up in the peak of his head. and those brains didn't amount to much, for they had such a small place to rest in that they were squeezed into half their natural size. "and since he didn't have much brains and his heart was made of stone, he was a cruel giant. he did all kinds of mean things. he killed and ate all the boys he could lay his hands on. there weren't any boy scouts in those days, or they'd have gone out and killed him." "i'd have clouted him in the jaw," interrupted frank bowler energetically. "just one good swift punch on the chin--" "yes, you would, bad," jeered pickles; "you're all the time talking about clouting somebody--but you never do." "i don't, eh?" "come, come, boys," warned the doctor. "that's not very dignified talk for a boy scout, frank. you ought to be ashamed of yourself. it's silly. go ahead, harry. we'll let frank tell us how he would have licked the giant after you've finished." "well," continued hal, "i was going to tell how a boy like bad did clout the giant in the face, or something worse, but he interrupted me. you see it was this way. a good many years ago, a boy called smash lived near here. that was before the giant lost his peak. smash went around smashing everybody in the face. the giant met him in the woods one day and nodded his head at him and said hello. "'come off the heap; don't talk to me,'" jeered smash. 'i'll lay my mit on your mouth.' "'ho, ho, ho!' laughed the giant. 'you're the conceitedest kid that ever came to this cañon.' "'where's the best place to hit you?' asked smash. "'right here on my ankle,' replied the giant. 'you can't reach any higher.' "'let me stand on your ear, and i'll give you a nailer,' said smash. "the giant picked smash up with two fingers and stood him on his ear. "'now, let me have your axe,' said smash. "'what!' roared the giant. "'let me have your axe.' "'ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!' laughed the giant. 'you couldn't get your arms around the handle.' "'i can't, eh? just give it to me and i'll knock your brains out.' "'all right, you conceited kid,' said the giant. 'here it is. bust away.' "he always carried his axe with him to cut firewood, and he gave it to the boy. smash's fingers seemed suddenly to grow very long and very strong, for they seized the handle and lifted it up. then, before the giant realized what was happening, smash gave the axe a mighty swing and cut the top of his head off." "hurrah for smash!" exclaimed bad. "wait a minute," said hal. "there's more coming and you won't be so happy over it." "did smash fall off his ear?" inquired one of the boys. "good guess," replied hal. "that's just what happened." "did he break his neck?" asked another. "i don't know; but it was just as bad. he fell faster than the top of the giant's head and the giant's brains spilt on top of him and drownded him." "_drowned_ him, you mean," corrected mr. porter. but the correction was not noticed. the boys were loudly expressing their opinions of the story. some liked it; others were displeased. "served him right for having the big-head," declared joe moffett wisely. "you bet it did," agreed vincent pyle. "didn't either," shouted frank bowler. "that's a crazy story. you can't tell me. why, do you think a boy who could stand on a giant's ear and cut off the top of his head with a axe as big as forty trees would get in such a scrape?" "no," replied several. "yes," declared others. "you're crazy," said bad, addressing the latter. "why, he'd 'a' fell in the giant's pocket, or caught hold o' one of his whiskers, or hung onto his watch chain." "that's a good argument," pronounced dr. byrd. "what have you to say to it, hal?" "bad's wrong," replied the story teller. "i want you boys to quit calling frank 'bad,'" said the doctor sternly. "he isn't bad at all. he's just extravagant in his talk." "i don't care what they call me," declared frank, who was rather proud of his nickname. "just so we don't call you down, eh?" pickles amended. "if you do, i'll clean you up." pickles was smaller than bad and did not resent this threat. the doctor did not regard frank's talk very seriously and so did not remonstrate. he remembered similar experiences of his own and believed that hard knocks are a much better cure than constant preaching for the brag and bluff of a boy. "where'd you get that story?" inquired byron bowler, bad's one-year-older brother. "make it up yourself?" "no, pepper helped me," replied hal. pepperill humphrey was an old servant of the doctor's who had traveled with him much and followed his employer soon after the latter settled in colorado. he was an interesting character, one of those old-style family servants who had grown up with the families for whom they worked. "we worked it out together," continued hal. "did you put me in it or did pepper?" inquired frank. "i didn't know you were in it," replied hal with a mischievous grin plainly visible in the firelight. "oh, smarty! you know what i mean. you meant smash for me." "i put smash in the story, yes; but you never did any such things as he did." hal and frank were very good friends, and hal knew better than to take seriously bad's "fierce" attitude. he liked his warlike friend best when he was threatening to "clean somebody up." there was something amusing about him when he was making one of his idle threats. "now, who's going to tell us a story about the mummy?" inquired mr. frankland. "i have one on _that_ if nobody else has," announced dr. byrd. "tell it," cried several of the boys eagerly. "it isn't very long," said the doctor; "but it fits in well with hal's story. the giant, by the way, had water on the brain: that's why smash was drowned. "well, smash, by the way, was an indian. and he had a brother whose name was rash. this brother was continually doing the most outlandish things and performing the most wonderful feats. after the top of the giant's head was cut off and his brains gone, the giant died. but as he was very stockily built, he did not fall over, but continued to stand there. trees and bushes and grass and flowers grew all over and he became a mountain. "now, rash was a witness of the death of smash. he was sailing above in an airship--" "what!" "in an airship!" "yes, why not?" he replied. "who ever heard of indians having airships!" said bad in tones of disgust. "this indian was a real inventor," explained dr. byrd. "but he kept the secrets of all his inventions to himself, so that when he died all his work died with him. when he saw the fearful accident that had befallen his brother, he glided down to offer assistance. the giant was dead, although standing erect; but smash had disappeared, all but one foot. that was sticking out from under the hollow peak of the giant's head, which had fallen over the boy and caged him in. "rash alighted and attempted to turn the peak over; but although he was very strong, he was unable to do this. so he flew away, and a few days later he returned with several other indians. with the aid of some tree trunks for levers they elevated one side of the peak-prison and pulled out the body of the prisoner. "the brain of the giant proved to have been a most remarkable substance. it had a strong odor of spices and chemicals and had converted smash's body into a mummy. the flesh was becoming hard as stone and it was evident that no decay could follow. "although rash was a reckless and daring fellow, he had not the great fault that had brought smash to a sad end. he appreciated the danger of such a nature and desired to warn all others against a like fate. so he wrapped the body in cloths, as some of the indian tribes have done, and saturated the cloths with diluted giant's brain to preserve them. then he put the body on his airship and arose to the giant's forehead, and landed with his burden on a beetling eyebrow. there he hewed out a shallow niche, into which, he set the mummified smash and cemented him fast; and on the giant's forehead he remains to-day as a warning not only to boys who are continually threatening to clean some one up, but also to giants who may be so foolish as to put great power into the hands of boastful youths." everybody except frank applauded this story. after the hand-clapping and shouts of glee had subsided, bad remarked disdainfully: "that story's all bunk. the mummy on the mountain's as big as a elephant. how could it have been a boy?" "oh, those indians were giants themselves, though they weren't anything like as big as flathead," exclaimed dr. byrd. at this moment all were startled by a most remarkable noise. it was a heavy whirring sound and came from overhead. instinctively they all looked up and beheld in the moonlight a very strange object. but, strange though it was, every one of the boys recognized its nature almost immediately. "it's an airship," cried one. "an aeroplane," shouted another. "he's volplaning," exclaimed dr. byrd in startled tones. "i wonder what he means. he can't be going to land here." "he seems to be in trouble," said mr. frankland. "yes, he's coming down." "look out, everybody!" shouted dr. byrd. "no telling where he'll land." there was no need of a second warning. evidently the aviator was losing control of his machine. it acted as if one wing had been clipped. suddenly, within fifty feet of the ground, the aeroplane plunged and fell with a crash and a thud less than a hundred feet from the camp fire. chapter iv the wreck and the aviator for some moments all was commotion. the appearance of the aeroplane in that out-of-the-way place and at such a time had been so unexpected as to create no little confusion, but when it plunged to earth almost in the very midst of the camping scouts, there was general panic, accompanied by a few screams of fright. every boy, as well as the doctor and the two instructors, ran for cover as the warning was sounded, but few of them found a satisfactory place before the aeroplane struck. luckily nobody was hit, and soon they gathered around the wreck in true boy scout readiness to help the injured. fortunately the aviator had not been caught under the wreckage. he had managed to jump clear of his machine before it struck the earth, so that his body was not mangled. but he lay still as death, and there was little doubt in the minds of the campers that the fall had been fatal. dr. byrd was soon kneeling over the unconscious form and examining it for signs of life. two of the boys pulled burning brands from the fire and held them close to afford him light. the examination occupied several minutes, and finally the doctor announced: "he's alive, but he's got some broken bones. one of you boys get some water. some of you make some splints, and some make a coat litter." in a moment all was activity. thirty boys cannot work together to great advantage under ordinary circumstances, but these boys were well trained and well managed. they were organized in patrols with patrol leaders, while the two instructors acted as scout masters. all of them, even bad, had learned to obey orders, and the work moved along quickly. pickles went to the stream and got some water in a coffee pot, and hal led a company into a clump of cottonwood near by to cut some splints, while others busied themselves with the preparing of the litter. the splints were made of small green limbs cut from some of the trees and shaved flat on two sides with the boys' strong jackknives. in a short time hal and his followers were back on the scene of the accident, watching proceedings eagerly and waiting for further orders. meanwhile the work on the litter progressed with equal rapidity. two strong poles were cut, trimmed and thrust through the arms of two of the boys' coats. then the fronts were drawn around over the poles and buttoned, and the task was finished. dr. byrd was a surgeon as well as a physician and he worked rapidly. he laid the injured man flat on his back, with head low, opened his clothing to aid respiration, then bared the injured parts and bathed them with water. in a few minutes the man groaned, and it was evident that he was in great pain. a further examination disclosed the fact that his right leg and two ribs on his right side were broken. dr. byrd did not set the leg at once. he merely straightened the limb and bound it with handkerchiefs and pieces of torn garments so as to make it firm at the broken point. around the broken ribs he pinned a wide bandage. "you boys are now having your first lesson in the treatment of a victim of a serious accident," remarked the doctor after he had finished his work. "sometime one of you may be in a position where you'll have to set a broken bone, and it will be well for you all to make note of everything connected with this case. first, never set a bone when the flesh around the fracture is swollen. treat it to reduce the swelling, and then set it. this man's wounds are badly swollen because of the violence of his fall. i have bound them so that they will not be irritated while he is being carried to lakefarm. now, we'll put him on the litter and start. but first put out the fire." the boys quickly obeyed, for they had been taught never to leave a camp fire unattended in a place where there was a possibility of the blaze reaching woods or prairie grass. there was little danger in this instance, but the doctor insisted on following the rule. water was carried in pails and pots and pans from the stream and poured on the fire until the last spark was gone. then the camping utensils were gathered up and the journey toward the school was resumed. mr. frankland and mr. porter carried the injured man, and dr. byrd walked beside the litter and kept watch over the patient. the latter had said little thus far, for the doctor had instructed him to lie still and not try to tell his story, as he evidently wished to do. the aviator was about thirty years old, and one look into his pain-drawn face was enough to inspire confidence and deep sympathy. he was not particularly handsome but he looked pleasant and straightforward. his body seemed well-knit and powerful. "i'll give you boys a half holiday to-morrow morning," announced the doctor as they started up the cañon toward flat head pass. "you may come back here and get the wreck of the airship and bring it back to the school." this announcement delighted the young scouts, who expressed their glee variously. the prospect of making a thorough examination of an aeroplane with such a history as this, was enough to excite their imaginations. as they proceeded, the doctor gave the boys further instructions regarding the care of an injured person. he called their attention to the manner in which the man on the stretcher was being carried in order that he might ride with the greatest possible care and comfort. "notice how mr. frankland and mr. porter are walking," he said. "they break their step so that while one moves his right leg the other moves his left and vice versa. this makes an easy pace. by walking in this manner, mr. frankland and mr. porter carry the patient along gently and without jarring." it was after ten o'clock when they arrived at the school. the aviator was taken into the "hospital," put into bed and made as comfortable as possible. the boys went to their dormitory, visited the shower baths and then turned in. next morning, in spite of their late retirement, the boys were up bright and early. several of them had dreamed of airships and awoke in the midst of various tragic situations. hal kenyon narrowly escaped being hit by the wing of a falling biplane and awoke as the machine struck the ground with a crash. those who were slow at waking were pulled out of bed by their more eager schoolmates or were driven out of slumberland with showers of pillows. but they were not angry in the least at this rough awakening and made all possible haste to prepare for breakfast. there were few servants at the "level-headed school." dr. byrd did not permit any of the boys to wear expensive clothes, even on sunday. for the week days he had selected the boy scout uniforms, which were worn constantly. this uniform, in fact, was what attracted him to the boy scout idea. in the absence of a corps of servants, the young scouts learned to perform many useful duties. they aired their own rooms and made their own beds, sewed on their own buttons, and, in shifts, helped the cook to prepare their meals. so they had various "chores" to perform both before and after breakfast on the morning following their "hike" in the mountains. for an hour and a half they were busy, sandwiching their breakfast between the tidying of the dormitory and the washing and wiping of dishes. but finally all such duties were done, and the boys were free to go to mummy cañon for the wrecked aeroplane. meanwhile they had been told that the victim of the accident was not fatally injured. aside from his broken ribs and leg he had suffered only a severe shaking up. a thorough examination had convinced the doctor that he would recover as soon as his broken bones could mend. the swelling on his leg was rapidly going down, and the doctor announced that he would probably set the limb in the afternoon. a team of horses was hitched to a wagon, and one of the boys got in and drove, while the rest walked ahead or behind. mr. frankland accompanied them. the journey was uneventful and in less than an hour they were in the cañon. the aeroplane was so thoroughly a wreck as to require almost an expert to determine what it had been originally. it had struck on a level grassy spot and had torn up the sod as if to make the earth as much a wreck as itself. a misshapen mass of splintered wood and bent struts and braces was about all that the scouts could make out. "it's hardly worth while to take that junk back with us," said mr. frankland as he gazed on the sorry-looking heap. "but since we came after it we may as well obey orders. perhaps he'll want to hold a funeral and bury his dead pet." "who is he?" inquired ferdinand sharer, commonly known as "fes" because of his fondness of carving or inking his initials, "f. e. s.," on all his personal property. "what's his name?" "i don't know," mr. frankland replied. "he hasn't done much talking yet." "gee! such a fall as that's enough to shut anybody up," exclaimed frank bowler. "yes, anybody except you," answered "fes" wisely. "you never close your face till after the chickens go to roost." "i don't, eh!" began frank; but mr. frankland put a stop to this sort of dispute by saying: "tut, tut, boys. none of that. that isn't clever." several of the boys now took hold of the wreck and lifted it into the wagon. it was a strange looking sight as they carted it over the rock road. they arrived back at lakefarm earlier than they had expected, but the boys were not required to return to their class work until afternoon. the wreck of the aeroplane was stored away in an empty shed, and the incident was closed pending an explanation from the injured aviator. chapter v lost! next day dr. byrd related an aeroplane story to the boys in the assembly room. it was the story of mr. johnson miles, the aviator who lay on a bed in the "hospital" striving to help mend his broken bones by thinking hopeful thoughts. it was a story of absorbing interest to the young scouts and afforded material for much excited conversation for several days thereafter. mr. miles had related his experiences in detail. he said that his home was in indianapolis and that he had flown all the way from that city in his aeroplane. he had already spent several weeks among and over the mountains, his purpose being to visit the rockies as a bird would visit them, and to collect specimens. "i was on my way to flathead mountain when i fell almost at its base," he told the doctor. "it was moonlight and i thought i would fly awhile, as it is really mighty pleasant to sail through the air with the moon and stars overhead. it's like racing along a lonely road in an automobile and seeing a ghost behind every post." "you have an odd idea of enjoyment," remarked the doctor. "oh, it's thrilling," declared the aviator. "the ghosts can't catch you in an automobile, and you just cut right through them in the air. "but i was forced to stay up longer than i wanted to. the country was so rough that i could find no place to land. then i found my gasoline almost gone and i knew i must glide and take my chances. the engine began to jerk and sputter and gasp, warning me of immediate danger. "that was a bad miscalculation i made regarding my gasoline. i thought i had enough to last me several hours. i had intended to fly only an hour or two by moonlight. i was right over the mountains when i discovered the condition of my gasoline, and you can imagine the state of mind it threw me into. all the ghosts i had cut through in the air hadn't begun to chill me the way this did. fifty thousand icicles stuck down my back wouldn't have been a circumstance to this. "it was so dark down on the earth, in spite of the moon, that i could hardly distinguish mountains from valleys. i was flying five hundred feet over the highest peaks, and began to glide as soon as i discovered my predicament. "presently i saw a large gulch that you call mummy cañon right below me. so i banked and circled around without realizing that i was so near the mountain i was searching for. but when about fifty feet from the ground a couple of my stay wires broke and warped the left wing. i worked my ailerons in an endeavor to balance the machine, but it was no use. down she flopped, and i leaped. i don't know how i managed to get clear of the struts and the planes, but i did, and--well, it was mighty lucky you folks were near, or i'd have died a lonely death. probably nobody would've come that way until i was food for the crows." "what became of your specimens?" inquired the doctor. "didn't you have any with you, or hadn't you gathered any yet?" "oh, my, yes!" replied miles. "i'd been in the mountains several weeks. didn't you find them?" "no. where did you drop them?" "they were in a leather bag tied to one of the struts near my seat. it's mighty funny you didn't find them." "maybe the bag was broken loose when the machine struck the ground, and was thrown some distance away," suggested the doctor. "that might be, but i should think one of all those boys would have found it when they went after the aeroplane." "yes, i should think so, too, unless it fell into a hole or behind a big rock. were the contents of the bag valuable?" "i wouldn't have taken one thousand dollars for them," said the aviator sadly. "in fact, i regret their loss more than the wreck of the biplane." "we'll make a thorough search for them," assured the doctor as he left his patient. this conversation took place shortly before noon. after dinner the boys were instructed to meet in the assembly room. there the doctor retold mr. miles' story in detail and then said: "i'm going to give you another half holiday, boys--" "hooray!" exclaimed ferdinand sharer in a loud whisper. "hold on, ferdinand. shut off your enthusiasm, for this isn't going to be an occasion of play. you have a very serious duty to perform, and i want you to go about it seriously." "we will," assured several of the boys. "yes, i know you intend to be serious," said the owner of lakefarm, with a wise shake of his iron-gray locks. "but i want you to be more than serious. i want you to use your wits, too, a little. a treasure has been lost and i want you to go in search of it; and if you don't find it, i want you to furnish a clew as to what has become of it." dr. byrd's boy scouts could no longer contain themselves. most of them just had to give vent to their feelings with loud-whispered "hoorays!" or other characteristic expressions of glee. "remember, now," insisted the master of the school just before he instructed the troop of scouts to file out; "i want you to use your heads and do some good work. that bag of relics is valuable and must be found. if it isn't lying on the ground near the place where the aeroplane struck, i want to know why. mr. porter will go with you." this was rather a large task to impose on any number of boys. to be sure, if the bag were lying near the spot in question, they ought to find it, or rather they should have discovered it already; but if it had mysteriously disappeared, how were thirty boys to conjure an explanation of the mystery? naturally this question, variously phrased, occurred to a number of the scouts as they listened to the doctor's latest words, but they were too young to ponder very deeply over the difficulty of any problem and soon dismissed this one from their minds. "you may stay until dark if it takes that long to find it," concluded dr. byrd. "now, everybody go to the kitchen and get some sandwiches that you'll find all ready. you'll all be hungry before you get back." there was no need of further urging. the boys filed eagerly out of the room, hastened to their lockers and got their drab coats, drill hats, haversacks, and hike-sticks, and then went to the kitchen for their sandwiches. in twenty minutes they were on their way. the course from the school to mummy cañon is pretty and interesting. it follows the bed of the river most of the way. this stream, named lake river by dr. byrd, varies from thirty to forty feet wide and carries considerable volume of water. it runs southward a mile and a half along the foothills, then turns westward after receiving the water of flathead river from mummy cañon. the rest of the way is up-hill, along the bank of the latter river or near it. mummy cañon is more than two miles long, its greatest width, near the center, being nearly half a mile. it is almost entirely hemmed in by mountains, there being a narrow pass at either end, north and south. flathead river has its source, or sources, high up in the mountains, and dashes down in a series of noisy cascades and cataracts, making a graceful curve for a quarter of a mile along the base of flathead mountain, from there leaping down a very rocky course to and through the northern pass. the young scouts and mr. porter walked halfway through the cañon before they reached the place where the aeroplane struck the earth. to the west arose flathead mountain, considerably lower than the other mountains bordering the cañon. from the "forehead" of flathead the mummy stood forth conspicuously. the bottom of the cañon was strewn with bowlders of every size and description. on the east, exactly opposite flathead, was a steep ascent so rocky as to permit of little vegetation save a pine or fir here and there growing from a crevice that seemed not to contain a trace of soil. high up on the ascent were poised several huge bowlders, and hence its name of bowlder mountain. on a level and treeless spot several acres in extent between flathead and bowlder mountain, the boy scouts and mr. porter began their search for the missing bag of specimens. almost in the middle of the grassy plot, the sod had been torn and rooted up by the plunging machine, and it did not take the searchers long to decide that the object they sought was not there in the open. "well, what do you think of it, boys?" inquired mr. porter. "remember, you're to do all the work and furnish all the ideas. who has an idea now?" "i have," announced fes sharer. "all right. we'll listen to ferdinand first." "i think this is all a pipe dream of the airship man's," declared fes, who was an extremely practical youth and always demanded evidence before he would believe anything. "i think he struck his head on a rock and hasn't come to his senses yet." "don't you believe he had a bag of souvenirs?" inquired the instructor. "naw," was the skeptical answer. "if he did, what became of it? it'd had to fall with the airship." "yes, if it was tied to it," conditioned juan del mar. "he says it was tied to the aeroplane," reminded mr. porter. "i think he's dreaming," insisted fes. "if he had a bag of specimens with him, it wasn't tied to the airship; or if it was, it broke loose or came untied while it was falling." "i think it came untied," declared pickles. "what do the rest of you think?" inquired mr. porter. as any thought on the subject must be largely a matter of guess, none of the boys besides fes and pickles were inclined to be very positive. all, however, were willing to accept ferdinand's explanation. "then it's up to us to search the whole cañon, or a good piece of it, around here," declared hal kenyon. several others agreed with him, although a few of the more doubtful said they were just as ready to believe that the bag had been dropped outside of the cañon. "i bet it dropped right on the peak of bowlder mountain, or maybe on the top of flathead," one boy even declared. it was now half past three o'clock, and as it would be dark early in the cañon, the boys set to work diligently to cover as much ground as possible before daylight failed them. they divided up the territory, and each boy tried to confine his search to his assignment. hal had a stretch of several acres along the creek at the base of flathead mountain. in the course of an hour he went over it thoroughly, without finding the treasured bag and hearing no joyful cry of discovery from any of the other boys. meanwhile it occurred to him that the bag might just as well have fallen into the river as any other place, and he determined to search in the water also. this required a good deal of time. in some of the wider places the stream was shallow and he could see the stony or pebbly bottom. but in other places he found it necessary to exercise greater care. he took off his shoes and stockings and rolled up his trousers as high as he could; then he waded in and began a thorough search. where the water was too deep for wading, he used his hike-stick to feel the bottom. in the meantime other boys, to whom had been assigned other sections along the creek, observed what hal was doing and followed his example. the search went along quietly, for all of the scouts were too widely separated to engage in much conversation. when they became hungry, they ate their sandwiches and drank spring water and then returned to their work. but at last it grew too dark for further hunting among the rocks, trees and bushes, or even in the open, and mr. porter called them together. the search seemed to have been in vain. the leather bag of the aviator was still lost, and nobody believed that it would ever be found, unless by accident. "well, we did our best anyway," said byron bowler. "you bet we did, bun," agreed pickles, following the general boy habit of shortening byron to "bun." "i'm tired." "so'm i," declared several others. "we'll start home now," announced mr. porter. "everybody here?" "all here," replied one of the boys, assuming that everybody had answered mr. porter's whistle. the walk back to lakefarm was quiet. the boys were all tired and found little of interest to discuss in their fruitless search. on the campus they were met by dr. byrd and mr. frankland, who inquired as to their success. "nothing doing," replied roy hendricks. "we searched pretty near the whole cañon and come back with empty hands." "yes, and we searched the river, too," repeated bun. "hal kenyon started that. we waded through the shallow places." "where is hal?" inquired pickles. "i ain't seen him all the way back." there was no answer. "what's that?" inquired the doctor. "kenyon missing? hal, step forward." there was no answer and no stepping forward. all was excitement soon. hal's name was called, then shouted by a dozen throats, and still no reply. young kenyon had disappeared as mysteriously as had the bag of specimens of the injured aviator. chapter vi the scream in the waterfall "how did this happen, mr. porter?" demanded dr. byrd sternly, yet with an unmistakable quaver in his voice. "i--i don't know, sir," stammered the manual training instructor. "i thought i heard his voice among the others on the way home." the fact was, mr. porter thought no such thing. he was merely frightened lest he be held responsible if anything serious had happened to kenyon while the boy was in his charge. he felt guilty. he knew that he ought to have called the roll to determine if all were present before starting back for the school. "did anybody see hal or hear his voice on the way back?" called out the doctor addressing the crowd of boys now gathered closely around him. no one had. "maybe he's gone into the dining-room," suggested mr. porter in an unnatural tone. "no, he didn't do anything of the sort," returned the doctor. "i've been sitting out here for ten minutes waiting for you. not a boy has entered this building in that time." there was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, and then the doctor continued: "if anything has happened to that boy i'm going to find out who's responsible." "he was working in the river some o' the time and it's over his head, lots of places," piped one small boy in fearful accents. "oh, it's impossible for him to have been drowned," declared mr. porter. "i kept my eyes on the boys in the river all the time they were there." dr. byrd offered no reply to this assurance. he merely said: "all you boys go in and get your supper; then go to bed early." "can't we go with you and hunt for hal?" pleaded charley mason. "no. i'm not going to run any risk of losing any more of you. besides, you've done enough for one day. i know you're all tired." "no we're not," responded several. the fact is, they were well tired from their afternoon's work, but love for their lost schoolmate had a refreshing effect. but the master of the school would not yield and they were forced to do as he said. by this time mr. frankland had appeared, and as the boys filed into the wash room to prepare for supper, he was informed of the situation that had caused such a commotion. "we've got to go and look for that boy and stick to the hunt until we find him--dead or alive," almost sobbed the doctor. "oh, it can't be as bad as that," reassured the hopeful mr. frankland. "hal's a pretty level-headed boy and will be showing up with an explanation before long. i haven't known him to get into trouble yet, and nearly every other boy in the school has been in one sort of scrape or another." "i hope you're right, frankland, but i very much fear otherwise. i can't conceive of an explanation of his disappearance unless some serious accident has befallen him. but you go and find pepper and have him get the auto ready, mr. porter; and, mr. frankland, you get a couple of long-handled rakes and some lanterns. i'll get my medical and surgical cases and we'll be prepared for any emergency." pepper was soon found and instructed. a few words of explanation served to put speed in his actions, and in fifteen minutes the large touring car was backed out of the garage. no unnecessary delay was permitted by the doctor. the medical and surgical cases were put aboard and all climbed in. mr. frankland, with two rakes in hand, sat behind with mr. porter, who had charge of the lanterns, and dr. byrd took a seat in front with the chauffeur. pepperill humphrey served as chauffeur as well as janitor at lakefarm institute. he was a wise old man, always ready with "home-remedy" advice and droll humor. he could tell "bad boys" what was going to become of them more forebodingly, some said, than could any other forecaster of human events. he was peculiarly quiet on the present occasion. after receiving a twenty-word explanation from mr. frankland, he asked one or two questions and then said nothing more. his silence might have been construed variously. he was fond of hal, as was everybody else at the school, and possibly he was stunned at the news received. but he was observed several times to nod his head vigorously and to mutter in a very positive manner. the other members of the search party, however, were too much occupied with their own thoughts to ask for an explanation from the janitor-chauffeur. they rode along in silence for most of the way. the doctor had gained all the information that seemed obtainable. mr. porter, because of the criticism he had received, wished to draw as little attention to himself as possible, and mr. frankland appreciated the embarrassment of the situation. there was a fairly good road from the school to the northern pass of the cañon, including a bridge over lake river near its junction with flathead river, which ran through the cañon, and along this they advanced close to the spot where the airship had struck. here they stopped, and the search for hal was started. first they shouted his name again and again, permitting the echoes to die away after each shout; but no reply came. then they lighted their lanterns, one for each, and started in pairs up and down the bank of the river. mr. porter indicated the section of the stream along which hal had conducted his hunt for mr. miles' bag of souvenirs, and it was from a middle point in this section that search for the missing boy began. for a few hundred feet here the water was deep and comparatively quiet; but above this calmer stretch was a succession of falls so noisy as to make it necessary to shout in order to be heard. the largest and noisiest of these falls was the lowest one. dr. byrd and mr. porter went upstream as far as this cataract, and stood a short time gazing into the water. there was little comfort in the feelings that possessed them as they gazed. the falling water glittered in the yellow moonlight, seeming to shine forth with a million ghost eyes, and in the noise of that tumbling flood every now and then they heard a strange sharp sound that seemed to pierce them through. mr. porter took hold of the doctor's sleeve and drew him away. they walked some distance down stream until their ordinary voices could be heard, and then mr. porter said: "let's not begin by raking the river. if he's drowned, we can't do anything for him; but if he's injured, he needs our aid." "well, where would you suggest that we hunt first?" inquired the doctor. "in the timber and thickets near the falls. he may have gone in there and got hurt." "all right. we'll search every place you suggest before we rake the river." mr. frankland and pepper were now observed coming up along the shore, and the doctor and mr. porter waited for them. after the four were reunited, mr. frankland said: "we've covered the ground pretty well down there. everything's open and fairly level. we measured the water with our rake, too, and it isn't over a boy's head any place, although it is swift as a millrace." "if he's drowned, his body's probably in this deeper part near the falls," said dr. byrd. "we're going up in the timber and hunt there first, and then come back here if we don't find him." "it might be just possible that he waded over to the other side and was hunting along the steep base of old flathead and fell in there," suggested mr. frankland. "we'll hope not," returned the doctor; "but we'll follow that up after we've tried everything else." the timber they now proceeded to search consisted principally of spruce, pines and cottonwood growing on a slope that ascended with the bed of the stream. the soil was fairly good here, being comparatively free from small stones and gravel, but there were numerous large bowlders and rocky projections that the search-party had to climb over or around. they spent an hour and a half, walking, crawling and climbing over this difficult ground, flashing their lanterns into every hole or depression, and stopping every now and then to call hal's name. at last, considerably disheartened, they returned to the bank of the river below the falls. "let's go down to the rapids and work up," suggested mr. porter. "he was working that way most of the time i think. i saw him down there and didn't see him up here." this proposal was agreed upon, so they walked down stream two hundred yards from the largest and lowest fall and began to work up. two of the men held the lanterns, while the others thrust the long-handled rakes into the water and felt along the bank. they pushed the rakes out as far as they could and drew them in many times. on several occasions they were almost certain they had found the body of the missing boy, but their discovery proved to be only a log or a tangled mass of sticks and weeds. finally they worked up to the lower waterfall and then moved away from the roaring noise to a distance where they could hear each other talk. "the only thing that seems to be left to do is to go to the other side and rake the river bed over there," remarked mr. frankland. "yes, and if he was drowned even on that side, it'll be just our luck not to find him," said mr. porter. "the body's probably drifted into midstream and may be down past the rapids." "if we don't find him to-night, we'll come back again to-morrow and drag the river to its junction with lake river," the doctor announced determinedly. "there's something funny about them falls," remarked pepper, who had been strangely silent during the whole of the search thus far. "what's that?" inquired mr. porter, who was still nervous and easily drawn into almost any meaningless conversation. "don't you hear it?" explained the chauffeur. "that noise every little bit. sounds like a scream coming right out of the water." "oh, that's natural enough," declared the manual training instructor. "it's a twist or eddy sucking into some crevice in the rocks." "i don't believe it," insisted pepper. "many a time i've been here on sunday afternoon and set here listenin' to them falls, an' never before heard that noise." "what do you think it is--a ghost?" inquired mr. porter with an uneasy laugh. "no, sir," replied the other indignantly. "but it's something 'at ought to be looked into. we're huntin' for a missin' boy, you know." "there _is_ something strange in that sound," put in dr. byrd at this point. "i wonder what it can be. mr. porter, your explanation doesn't satisfy me." "nor me either," said mr. frankland. just then another and louder scream came seemingly right out of the tumbling flood, thrilling fearfully every member of the boy-hunting party. for a few moments everybody present stood as if frozen to the ground; then dr. byrd sprang forward exclaiming: "come on; we've got to find out what that means." chapter vii a badly frightened boy "i told 'em so. i told 'em something would happen. i warned those boys they'd get into trouble if they didn't quit gettin' so gay. hal isn't a gay one, but he can easy be a victim of a trick of one o' those careless, dare-devil kids." mr. frankland and mr. porter both heard pepper mutter thus to himself as they followed the doctor toward the waterfall whence the scream of a human voice seemed to come, but they paid little attention to his words, for they knew his peculiarities and attached little importance to his grumbling. nevertheless, pepper believed all he said, and more. only a few days earlier he had observed some of the boys engaged in tying the long grass across the path that led from the stables to the west timberland on lakefarm. then he lectured them, promising that they would come to no happy end. "you boys will be the death of somebody one o' these fine days, and then you'll begin to do some thinkin'," he declared, as he strode along, breaking with a strong kick each of the "trips" that the mischievous youngsters had prepared. "and you, frank bowler, are well nicknamed 'bad.' if you don't end on the gallows, i'm dreamin'." frank seemed to be the leader in this escapade. he would have liked to have made a smart reply to this direful prophecy, but for once in his life he thought twice. this was only one of many occasions of which the old englishman took advantage to hand out his advice. he was really a good-hearted and well-intending fellow, and no doubt did some of the boys considerable good. but there were a few of the latter who couldn't "go the old geezer," and frank bowler was one of them. why it was, he could never tell; but mr. humphrey had a "feeling in his bones" that one of the mischief makers of the school was connected with the disappearance of hal kenyon. and this was what he meant when he muttered the words overheard by mr. frankland and mr. porter. although he was the one who called particular attention to the strange sound that seemed to issue from the waterfall, he did not regard it as seriously as did the others. he was thinking more of certain boys back at the school than of the mystery close at hand. true, his wonder was aroused at the sound issuing from the cataract, but his reason would not permit him to connect that with the disappearance of hal. he was wishing that he were now back at lakefarm closeted with "some of those bad boys and sweating the truth out o' them." "i'd get it out o' them, i'd get it out o' them," he told himself over and over again after the first thrill of awe at the shrill sound from the waterfall. "whether there's anything serious happened to hal or not, i believe some o' those boys know something about it. wait till to-morrow morning, and i'll find out." pepper nodded his head and shook his fist determinedly as he spoke. he was talking vehemently now, articulating his words without reserve, for they had approached so near the noisy falls that he could not hear himself speak. but he was interrupted by another scream from the cataract. this was no louder than the last preceding, but it was more thrilling, for they were closer. every member of the searching party would have declared that only a human throat could send forth such a sound. they approached close to the cataract and gazed helplessly into the water. what could they do? it was a most astonishing and unfathomable mystery. all they could do was stand and look and listen. presently dr. byrd pulled a sleeve of each of his companions and motioned them to follow him. they started down the stream again, but soon they were halted involuntarily by another wailing cry from the same source. dr. byrd did not turn back, however, but went on after a moment's hesitation. the others followed. beyond the reach of the deafening noise of the waterfall, the doctor stopped and began to discuss the affair with trembling, hollow voice, his face showing white in the rays of the lanterns. he was not frightened, but the circumstances were unusual enough to unstring his nerves. the rest were similarly affected, even pepper experiencing a weakening of his knees as a result of the last two screams. "what in the world does that mean?" gasped the doctor. "there it goes again," as another scream, somewhat fainter than the last two, reached their ears. "can't one of you offer a possible explanation?" "maybe it's a mountain lion or a lynx," suggested pepper. "you know there's said to be a few in the mountains around here." "that's a brilliant idea," exclaimed dr. byrd enthusiastically, "or rather, it's a commonsense explanation that ought to have occurred to any blockhead. hence, what are the rest of us? i feel better all of a sudden. but no! if it is a panther--" he hesitated. "what then?" inquired mr. frankland. "it may explain, may it not, what became of hal?" replied the doctor slowly. "you mean that the beast killed him?" inquired mr. porter. "yes." "no, no, that would have been impossible. such a tragedy could not have escaped the notice of some of us. moreover, there'd have been some traces left--blood, broken bushes, and maybe torn-up sod." "yes, that's true," admitted the doctor. "but what's become of the boy? i'd face a hundred panthers to get hal back safe. my! there's that scream again. it doesn't sound like a wild animal. it's almost human." "if it's a panther or a lynx, where do you suppose it is?" inquired mr. frankland, addressing pepper. "in the rocks near the waterfall somewhere," replied pepper. "i should think we'd have seen him or have been able to locate him when we were up close," reasoned the doctor. "it's too dark up there--the fall's right in the shadow of the mountain. and the noise o' the water confuses things so you can't tell just where the scream comes from." "i can't believe any wild animal makes that noise, and i'm in favor of making further investigation," said dr. byrd. "i'm with you on that," mr. frankland announced; "but before we proceed, i propose we arm ourselves against a possible encounter." "how?" mr. porter asked. "with clubs. four of us ought to beat off a panther with good strong heavy sticks." "it's a wise precaution," the doctor approved. "let's get busy." they proceeded to a near-by thicket and there found a number of young trees that suited their purpose admirably. like the boy scouts, they too were supplied with large sharp jackknives, and in ten minutes each was armed with a club that seemed formidable enough to break the skull of a lion. then they turned again toward the cataract, advancing close to it and flashing their lanterns over the big tumble of water and the adjoining piles of rocks. but they discovered nothing that suggested an explanation of the mystery. the screams continued to come, seemingly from the fall, but it was ridiculous to believe that any living being, human or beast, could exist in that flood and, with clear, strong lungs, emit such wailing sounds of distress. for fifteen minutes they watched and listened, while the cries continued to come at intervals of a minute or two. finally, since the examination of the fall and the rocks near it produced no result, dr. byrd began to give all his attention to the cries themselves. after close and careful listening he was certain he could distinguish a feature in the cries that had not attracted his notice before. he strained every nerve in order to catch the sounds more distinctly. observing his attitude as he leaned forward and put his hand cup-shaped behind his ear, the other men followed his example and soon they too were certain they could make out a single word uttered by a human voice. "help!" it seemed to come more clearly now and was repeated several times in rapid succession. the eager listeners turned to each other and nodded their heads significantly; then they listened again as the call was repeated. but only the one word could they make out. "where are you, hal?" dr. byrd shouted this answer to the appeal, but his voice was heavy, attuned almost to the noise of the waterfall, and could hardly have been heard by the person in distress. then mr. frankland and pepper measured the strength of their vocal organs against the noise of the cataract with little better result. but mr. porter had a high, shrill voice, and when he sang out with all his strength "oh, hal, where are you?" there was a general feeling among them that the boy must have heard it. then they listened again. a reply was surely coming. it was not a single word, but several that issued from the waterfall this time. they seemed to come in the form of a sentence, but only one was heard distinctly enough to be recognized. that word was understood by all. it was "behind." "behind what?" was the question that naturally came to the minds of the listeners. but before they could conjecture an answer, there came a startling interruption that drove all thought of the mystery of the cataract momentarily from their minds. happening to turn his face away from the waterfall, the doctor beheld the dim outlines of a small human figure twenty feet away. believing it to be hal, he ran joyfully toward the boy and was followed by the other men. the object of their interest did not move. in a moment they were close to him and holding their lanterns before his face. but the boy was not hal. it was frank bowler, supposed to be back at lakefarm and fast asleep in the dormitory. and his countenance could hardly have been whiter if it had been coated with white enamel. moreover, he was trembling as if he had seen a ghost. "frank, frank, what is the matter? what does this mean?" cried dr. byrd; but he forgot that he was too near the cataract to carry on a conversation, and the boy did not understand him. just then there came another scream out of the roar of the waterfall, and frank, the boastful, fell on his knees, shaking with terror. chapter viii hal's discovery meanwhile, what had become of hal kenyon? he had had a most remarkable adventure, and connected with it was an equally remarkable discovery. during the search for the missing bag of specimens hal and frank bowler worked in adjoining divisions of the territory that was being covered. as they finished the search on their divisions they met at the lower waterfall. they gazed a short while into the tumbling water and then moved down stream until they could hear each other's voices. "i don't believe we'll find the bag," were frank's first words. "i don't believe anybody'll ever find it. i bet it's in the deep part o' the river where you couldn't wade." "maybe it's on the other side," suggested hal. "there's quite a little piece of ground over there along the river bank. it's pretty steep, but we could walk on it if we're careful." "let's go over there and hunt," frank proposed. "all right. come on." they continued on down the river to a wide shallow stony place, and there took off their shoes and waded over. arrived on the opposite side, they put on their shoes again, and as they were doing this hal said: "it'll be getting dark before long and we don't want to have to walk along this steep place when we can't see plain. let's go up to the other end, at the fall, and work down this way." "all right," agreed frank. so they picked their way over stones and through bushes and patches of stunted fir trees, sometimes finding it necessary to hold onto a bush or a rock in order to keep from slipping or losing their balance and plunging into the river. but they reached the cataract and then halted again to look around them. there was little more than standing-room for them at this point. this standing-room, however, was level and comfortable. it was close to the fall, which proved even more magnificent from this side than from the other. the rocks were piled high and wonderfully poised, and the water fell from a lofty height and roared thunderously on the rocky bed in the deep basin below. both of the boys had a great desire to talk as they gazed on the beauty of this scenery, but the noise of the falls drowned out their voices. so they had to content themselves with gazing and pointing their fingers and nodding their heads eagerly. as they stood there they made a new and interesting discovery that caused them to forget their purpose in crossing the river. at the near edge of the cataract the downpour of water was extremely thin, so that the boys could look behind. hal's notice was first to be attracted to this peculiarity. soon he was standing as close to the fall as he could get with safety and was gazing wonderingly into a cavernous space beyond. observing his attitude, frank stepped near and looked over his shoulder. then hal put his lips close to his companion's ear and shouted: "bad, there's a cave back there!" frank nodded understandingly, and hal continued in the same manner as before: "do you see that thing on the floor of the cave? it looks like a leather bag. maybe it's the one we're looking for." "it can't be," frank shouted in hal's ear. "how would it get there?" kenyon pointed to a huge projecting rock just over their heads. "it might have struck that and glanced off through the water," he replied. hal was now convinced that they had discovered the object of their search. his first impulse was to run back and inform dr. byrd, but a boyish ambition made him hesitate, and that hesitation was perhaps to be blamed for much of the trouble that followed. as he lingered, this thought came to him: "wouldn't it be glorious if we could get behind the waterfall, explore the cave, and come out and report our double discovery to the owner of lakefarm and all the boys?" the idea was so tempting that he was unable to give it up. the ledge behind the fall was about nine feet from the edge of the flat rocky precipice on which they stood. now, if he only had a plank nine or ten feet long, he could easily bridge the chasm and walk through the thin spray of water right into this wonderful cave. instinctively he looked about him for something that would serve as a bridge, and what was his astonishment to discover the very article he was wishing for. projecting from a thicket near by was the end of a piece of lumber. he went over and pulled and found it loose. it was a plank twelve inches wide and ten feet long. "my!" was his exclamation, drowned by the waterfall. "we're not the first to find this place. somebody else is using that cave for something and he's had this plank here to cross over on." this certainly seemed to be the natural and only logical explanation of the presence of the heavy piece of lumber in the bushes. at least it would serve the desired purpose, and hal prepared to thrust it across the chasm so that an end would rest on each ledge of rock. frank understood quickly what his companion had in mind and stood ready to help him. the plank was heavy, but hal was strong, and with a well-calculated effort he placed it in position and kept his balance. "now you hold this end while i cross over," he screamed into frank's ear. "but don't you try to come over." frank nodded eagerly. he had no intention of obeying, but said nothing. he got down on his knees and placed his hands on the plank. there really was no need of this, but it was a natural request for hal to make, as he would feel safer with a pair of hands steadying the unanchored bridge. it was now dusk in the cañon and rapidly growing dark. probably this is one reason why the doings of these two boys were not observed by any of the other members of the searching company. however, the view of most of them was shut off by the high bluffs and rocks near the waterfall and the rest were at a considerable distance away or in hollows or depressions or beyond growths of timber. hal stepped onto the plank and moved out over the chasm toward the thin spray and the cave beyond. meanwhile frank's brain was working rapidly. he was thinking of the glory that hal was winning and he was losing. why should they not share the glory alike? as soon as his companion reached the cave he also would cross on the plank, walk right through the roaring waterfall and maybe carry back the coveted treasure in his own hands. "oh, wouldn't that be great!" he exclaimed exultingly. "how the other kids'd look at me. and if any of 'em got too fresh, i'd just clout 'em on the jaw." frank actually executed the vicious swing of "clouting" some youngster as he spoke. the result was thrilling, but not what the youthful terrorizer would have wished. he was half kneeling, half sitting in an awkward and cramping position, and as he swung his fist on an imaginary jaw, he lost his balance, and his feet slipped from under him. one heel struck the plank violently, and over it tipped, then with a swing, slipped under the waterfall and was shot down into the chasm. and bad almost went with it, but he caught himself at the edge of the precipice. for a moment he lay there and looked over. then he remembered hal. he was gone. he must have followed the plank into the whirling pool below. in an ague of horror he crawled back a few yards and staggered to his feet; then with one terrified look behind him, he started on a wild run along the steep shore, sobbing hysterically as he ran: "oh, my! oh, my! i've killed hal! i've killed hal! oh, what will i do? what will i do? i'll be hung, i know!" he arrived at the place where they had crossed and dropped down and pulled off his shoes and stockings. as he was thus occupied he continued his fearful forebodings: "pepper said some of us bad boys'd end on the gallows, and i know he meant me. he could look right through me. i always felt it. he's the first one to call me 'bad,' and then the kids did. "yes, i know i'll be hung if--no, i won't either. nobody saw us. i won't tell. i'll keep it to myself, and nobody'll ever find out." he crossed back to the other side and in the dusk saw the boys gathering a few hundred feet away. mr. porter had called them a few minutes before with a whistle blast, but frank had not heard it. still resolved to guard his terrible secret, frank hastened to join the other scouts. fortunately it was now almost dark and none of them could see his face plainly, or they would have noticed how pale he was. as a rule he was talkative, but now he did not speak at all, except to give the shortest possible answers when addressed. one or two of the boys, observing his unusual manner, asked him what was the matter and he made no reply. all the way back to the school he walked by himself, lagging a little behind much of the time, as if tired, in order that he might not be forced to talk. he was afraid to talk. it was all he could do to keep from crying. by the time they reached the school he had lost his nerve and decided that he must tell somebody all about it. he could not bear to keep the secret any longer. but no suitable opportunity offered itself to speak to the doctor or mr. frankland. he might have taken one of the boys aside and told his story to him, but frank could not remember one of his schoolmates whom he had not threatened to "clean up" or "clout in the jaw" at one time or another. even bun his brother, whom he had threatened with a "paste on the blinker" only the day before, might censure him and tell him he ought to be hanged or be sent to jail. so frank did not tell his story when his strongest impulse to sob it out possessed him. he went with the rest of the boys into the wash room and then into the dining room and ate his supper in silence. his face was not so pale now, but his peculiar manner was observed by several. however, it was thought that he was dejected, as were many others, over the fate of hal kenyon, and nobody embarrassed him with questions. after supper the boys were sent off to bed. mr. frankland and mr. porter usually had charge of this "good night" watch and slept in the dormitory, but on this occasion mrs. byrd and the matronly cook superintended affairs. once or twice frank almost yielded to an impulse to confide in the doctor's wife, but his general dislike for both girls and women held him back. frank and byron slept together. dr. byrd had not spared his money in constructing the buildings of this mountain school, and for every two boys there was a separate room, neatly and comfortably fitted. they were all outside rooms, with a window for each, all on the first floor, so that it would be easy for the boys to escape in case of fire. byron was tired and could hardly keep his eyes open until he got into bed. he was so tired that he hardly noticed the unusual silence of his brother; or if he did, he attributed it to the same cause that made him sleepy. as for frank, he never was more wide awake and had no idea of sleeping. he sat down on a chair and began to undress slowly, but there was a reason in his slowness. he was watching bun constantly out of the corner of his eye and his nervousness was greatly relieved when he saw his brother fall into bed and to sleep almost instantly. then frank stopped undressing and sat quietly for a few minutes watching the boy in bed. soon the latter's heavy breathing announced that he was fast asleep, and the young watcher drew on his trousers again. he worked rapidly now, drawing on his stockings and shoes, and putting on his coat and hat. then he moved toward the window, which was open in accordance with the health ideas of dr. byrd. with another hasty glance at his slumbering brother, frank put both legs over the window sill and dropped to the ground, a distance of only a few feet. then, like a flash, he straightened up and ran over the lawn toward the road. the moon was shining and the boy concealed his flight as much as possible by keeping under a row of balsam poplars along the east edge of the campus. after leaving the shadow of these, he found it necessary to break into the open, and he ran down the road toward the river with all his speed. it was a wild-looking figure that raced along the trail toward mummy cañon that night. half a mile from the school a small animal shot out from a clump of junipers and darted across his path just behind him. believing it to be a wildcat, he doubled his speed, too much frightened to think of stopping, although his hat was whiffed off by the wind. his hair was rather long and it was blown in disorder. like a scary horse he shied at every large rock, dark hollow, or ghost-like stunted spruce or fir. up hill and down he ran, through ravine and along the precipice of a hollow known as "baby gorge." colorado nights are cool, even in the summer, and he did not become overheated. a few times he was forced to stop and walk for want of breath, but as soon as he recovered, on he went at the best speed he could make. he was a sturdy youngster and stood the test. at last he reached flathead pass and hastened through, over a ledge of rock along the bank of the river. another quarter of a mile, and he was able to see the lights of the lanterns of the hunters for the lost boy. on he ran, and as he neared the party ahead, he realized tremblingly that they were near the fatal waterfall. now he began to wonder what he should do. he had had no plan in mind when he started out; all he could say to himself was that he must be present and watch the search. he did not intend to reveal himself, but wanted to be near when the body of hal was taken out of the water. frank approached as near to the men by the waterfall as he thought safe. he stopped behind a clump of bushes and peered around to watch proceedings. presently the doctor and his companions moved away from the cataract and stopped within a few feet of the bushes, and there the boy heard their excited discussion regarding the cries that seemed to issue from the falling water. then he saw them cut a club for each and advance again toward the place of mystery. the watching boy was intensely thrilled by what he had heard. the suggestion that possibly the screams were those of a panther or a lynx added a new element of fear to the situation. but as he heard the strange sound repeated again and again, he dismissed all thought of a wild animal. "it's hal's ghost, i know; it can't be anything else," he chattered; and without knowing why, he left his place of concealment and started toward the waterfall. a dozen paces from the men he stopped, fearful of announcing his presence, yet half hoping he would be discovered. just then dr. byrd turned and saw him. chapter ix hal a prisoner "oh, he's dead! hal's dead, and that's his ghost screaming!" moaned frank bowler as he writhed in mental agony at the feet of dr. byrd. the latter stooped and lifted the boy gently to his feet. then he took him by the hand and led him down stream beyond the noise of the waterfall. "nonsense, frank. if that's his voice, he's alive and very lusty, and we're going to get him out as soon as we find out where he is. but what does all this mean?" "no, no, that's his ghost; i know it is," insisted the boy still wildly. "don't let them hang me, dr. byrd! don't let them hang me! i won't do it any more." "won't do what any more?" "threaten to clout anybody on the jaw," sobbed frank, who now for the first time that evening found it possible to shed tears, and they came in a flood. but at last he found his voice between sobs and continued. "i kicked the plank and he fell down in the waterfall. he's drownded; i know it. i saw him fall. please, doctor, don't let 'em hang me." "get that out of your mind, my boy," reassured dr. byrd. "nobody's going to hang you, whatever you did. they don't hang boys of your age. but i don't understand you." this reassurance that he was not in danger of the gallows gave the boy better control of himself and he was able to tell his story less hysterically. through a series of pointed questions the doctor finally drew from him all the details regarding the discovery of the cave behind the cataract and hal's attempt to get into it, and then he announced: "well, the mystery is explained at last. don't worry, frank. hal isn't drowned. he's safe behind the waterfall and we'll get him out as soon as we can." "but i saw him fall," insisted the boy, his eyes staring wide with wonder. "no you didn't," replied the doctor. "it was your imagination that caused you to think you saw him fall. he was probably on the ledge beyond the cataract and staggered as he stepped from the plank." this was the true explanation, and takes us back to hal when he was entrapped. he saw what his companion had done and attempted to reassure him that no serious damage, beyond the loss of the plank, had resulted; but frank darted away in terror almost instantly. hal watched the fleeing boy with puzzled amusement at first. he could not understand why he should have run away so hurriedly. he did not know that frank believed he had killed his friend, but supposed the impetuous lad was hastening away for assistance. however, it seemed strange that he should not have tried to tell hal his intentions. having no fear as to the outcome of his adventure, hal began to look about him. but the cave was dark, except close to the roaring water, and he was able to see but little. he was afraid to venture far back lest he step into a pit or over an underground precipice. so he decided to wait where he was until help arrived. presently his eyes fell again on the supposed bag of souvenirs, and he stooped over and picked it up. yes, there was no mistake about it; the object was a bag of soft leather and contained half a peck, seemingly of small stones or quartz. the string, run through a dozen eyes near the opening, was tied, and as it was too dark to see, he did not open it. help would come to him in a few minutes and he would turn the bag over to dr. byrd for further inspection. but help did not come in a few minutes. half an hour passed and hal began to wonder a little. he had reasoned out an explanation of frank's sudden departure, so that had ceased to puzzle him. frank was very impetuous, and undoubtedly had realized at once that it would be useless, on account of the noise of the waterfall, to attempt to talk with the prisoner, so he must have decided instantly that the only thing for him to do was to run for assistance before it became too dark. but as the shades of the cañon grew heavy and no rescuers appeared, hal became uneasy. probably an hour had elapsed since he was trapped in this place, and he was becoming alarmed. what could have happened to frank? had he fallen into the river and--no, that could not be. hal had watched him until he passed the deep part and sat down near the fording place to pull off his shoes and stockings. frank had crossed the river, no doubt. another half hour elapsed and the prisoner was ready to give up hope for the night. something had happened to prevent frank from carrying the news to mr. porter, or else it was deemed too dark to attempt a rescue at once. the west shore was pretty steep and a single misstep in the dark might plunge one into the water or onto the rocks, ten, fifteen or twenty feet below. possibly some one had been sent back to the school for lanterns. several times he wished he had some matches in order that he might explore the cave and examine the contents of the leather bag, but dr. byrd never permitted his boys to carry any. the buildings of the school were lighted by a small electric plant connected with the shops, and they were heated with steam pipes and radiators, so that there was little call for the use of matches on the part of anybody at the school. moreover, the doctor had absolutely forbidden the use of cigarettes at lakefarm, and matches are very necessary to the habit. the waterfall was almost as effective as a stone wall would have been in shutting from view the light of the moon in the cañon. however, from the point where he had crossed over on the plank he could look out and see dimly the shadowy contour of the mountain. then, gazing upward at an angle, he could see a few stars shining dimly. hal spent some time gazing out through this opening. at first he looked for the approach of rescuers, but as time grew into more than an hour and nobody appeared, he continued to gaze because it was more pleasant to do so than to rest his eyes on the darkness of the cave. once only he yielded to an impulse to make an exploration of his prison. this he did because he had become extremely tired of standing in one position so long. indeed, he was almost ready to pitch over into the falling water when he finally dropped to his hands and knees and began to feel about him. the floor of the cave was fairly smooth, but so damp that his trousers and underclothing became wet to the skin at the knees in a short time. this, however, did not bother him, and he continued his exploration for several feet back. satisfied with this he arose to his feet and went through a few simple calisthenic exercises that he had learned at lakefarm. this warmed him up and he returned to the edge of the cave. he would have been glad to lie down and sleep until morning, but the uncomfortable dampness of the floor and the fear of catching a bad cold caused him to remain erect. how much longer he continued to stand and look out, principally at a handful of stars, he did not know. it was a monotonous occupation, and he found it wise to stand back several feet for fear lest, in a moment of dizziness or drowsiness, he lose his balance and pitch forward and down with the falling water. suddenly, however, he became very wide awake and attentive, for several lights were approaching some distance down stream on the right shore. apparently they were lanterns. at once hal surmised correctly who carried them and was certain that they were coming to his rescue. probably frank was with them, he further reasoned. but when he saw the lights separate, two coming upstream and two going down, he was puzzled. what could this mean? why did they not ford the river at once and come up on the other side? here was the only place to help him out of his prison. he could see the lights of dr. byrd and mr. porter until they approached close to the cataract, when the falling water shut off his view of them. they remained out of his sight, however, for presently they walked down stream again, stopping near the rapids. the light of their lanterns made their forms fairly distinct. presently hal saw the other two men from down stream rejoin them. he looked closely for a fifth member of the party, a boy, but was disappointed. as he observed the four now engaged in a seemingly puzzled discussion, the waterfall prisoner decided that it was time for him to do something to attract attention. was it possible that they did not know where he was? the idea seemed ridiculous; and yet what other explanation of their manner and actions could be given? so he let out a lusty scream, and then watched for its effect. apparently it had none, so he gave another and another. the men continued their discussion, paying no attention to his cries. hal guessed that the sound of his voice was drowned in the noise of the waterfall. this conclusion threw him into despair. all sorts of direful forebodings now crowded his brain. maybe frank was drowned after all, and the searching party was looking for both of them. if this was true, they would drag frank's body from the river, while he, hal, would be left to starve to death behind the cataract because he was unable to make his presence known. this fear set him almost wild, and he continued to utter scream after scream, until his throat became so irritated that he had to quit. then he caught some of the falling water in his hand and drank it and his throat felt more comfortable. meanwhile the entire search party came upstream again and disappeared, remaining out of hal's sight a long time. during the entire hour and a half that they spent in the timber, the boy kept up a succession of screams and cries for help. naturally the uncertainty of the situation had a depressing effect on him, but he set his teeth and would not give up. daylight surely would bring hope. but daylight was many hours off. finally dr. byrd and his companions returned within hal's range of vision. he saw the lights and the men move down the river, and watched them as they raked the bed of the stream along the shore, but could not make out what they were doing. he continued his cries for help; he pitched his voice in every possible key, instinctively realizing that certain keys were more readily drowned in the roar of the waterfall than others. then followed the puzzled discussion over these cries, and it was not long before the boy knew that he had attracted attention. he saw them approach the cataract again, then go back, engage in another discussion, cut some clubs in a thicket, and return once more to the waterfall. they passed beyond his vision, as on former occasions, and before long he caught mr. porter's shrill "oh, hal, where are you?" "behind the waterfall," replied the boy in his highest pitch. but he put most stress on the first word, which was the only one caught distinctly by the rescuers. then hal witnessed the discovery of frank, who was standing just within his range of vision. as the light of the lanterns was thrown on that frightened youth's face, hal saw him fall down before the doctor, who picked him up and led him down stream, while the others followed. from this moment he watched proceedings with new sensations of wonder. he could see that frank seemed to be telling something to the men. but they did not listen long to his story. they seemed suddenly to decide on a course of action; they walked farther down the stream to the fording place where two of them pulled off their shoes and waded across, still carrying the lanterns. one of them also took with him one of the rakes, which hal supposed to be merely a long pole. they reached the western bank and climbed up on the steep shore. then they picked their way carefully toward the cataract. hal was certain now he was about to be rescued. his cries for help were no longer needed, and he waited in silence. the two men's progress along the difficult shore was slow, but finally they reached the flat rock close to the waterfall. by this time hal could distinguish the features of the two men in the light of their lanterns and also observed that the "pole" carried by pepper was a rake. the man with pepper was dr. byrd. on reaching the rock, the janitor-chauffeur hooked his lantern onto the rake and extended it toward the fall. finding the thin section of the cataract, he thrust it through and hal seized both lantern and rake eagerly. disengaging the light from the garden implement, hal was about to pass the latter back when he caught sight of a piece of paper tied to it. he set the lantern down, broke the string around the paper, and spread out the latter close to the lantern, taking care lest he tear the wet note-book leaf. then he read the following: "mr. frankland and mr. porter have gone back in the automobile for some planks to make a bridge. can you make yourself comfortable in there until morning? answer. dr. byrd." chapter x the mystery of the leather bag after reading the doctor's note, hal picked up the lantern and swung it around so as to get a wider view of the cave. he was able to see the wall at the other edge of the cataract, but was not sure of the depth of the cavern. then he set the lantern down again and searched his pockets until he found a piece of white paper and a pencil. for a few moments he cast about him for a hard, smooth surface on which to lay the paper, but the best he could find was the plain flat handle of his pocketknife. with this on his knee and bending close to the light of the lantern, hal laboriously inscribed the following: "i'm all right till morning. i'm going to explore the cave." he tied this note to the rake and reached it back to pepper. then he waited for the answer he saw the doctor preparing. it came presently and was as follows: "be careful and don't fall into another trap. we're going back to the other side. maybe we'll try to get you before morning." hal saw the two men depart and then turned his attention to the dark depths of the cavern. the floor was smooth, though irregular. the mouth opening upon the waterfall was about ten feet wide, but the passage narrowed somewhat further in. here it made a sharp turn to the right, and hal followed the passage a hundred feet, when he was stopped by a wall of earth and rocks. there was no further exploration to make, for this was the end of the cave. hal flashed his lantern all around and above, but could find nothing more of particular interest, except the general formation of the cave. he was not certain that he could see the ceiling. at one place particularly there seemed to be a black void above. the right wall of this part of the cave slanted upward like the side of a steep hill. moreover, this side was jagged and irregular, so that hal was certain he could climb up some distance. the other side hung over like a huge cliff, slanting at the same angle. "this looks like a big crevice in the rocks," mused the boy as he gazed up and around him. "i wish some more of the boys were here with lanterns. i'd like to hunt till i found something worth coming here for. it looks like a shame to have such an adventure as this and find nothing. "oh, yes," he suddenly remembered; "there's the bag of souvenirs. i haven't examined them yet. i'll go back and see what they are." so he turned to the mouth of the cave and set the lantern down on the floor, while he stooped over and untied the string around the opening of the leather bag. pulling it apart, hal was soon fingering a curious collection of many sorts of stones and quartz, some of which shone brilliantly in the light of the lantern. "my! they look as if they might be worth a fortune," exclaimed the boy as he picked up one after another and examined them eagerly, "for mr. miles said he wouldn't take a thousand dollars for them." as he had nothing else to do, hal continued to examine the curios for some time, becoming more and more impressed with their novelty. some of them evidently had been altered in shape by the hand of man, particularly a few that looked like indian amulets, and hal was convinced that the collector had visited some deserted pueblos or cliff houses. "dr. byrd said mr. miles had spent some time in the mountains," he mused: "and i bet he can tell some interesting stories of the places he's been in. when he gets well enough to be around, i'm going to ask him to tell us all about his adventures. he must have had some with that airship in the mountains." hal's meditations and his interest in the contents of the leather bag were interrupted finally by the reappearance of lights approaching along the river bank. he drew the string tight around the receptacle and tied it. then he awaited the approach of his rescuers. as they came near, he saw that they were bearing two wide planks, one man at either end of each, the leaders carrying the lanterns. evidently they had decided not to wait until morning before attempting to release the boy from his strange prison. finally they reached the flat rock near the waterfall and the two planks were laid across the intervening space between the shore and the cave. hal adjusted his end of the planks so that they rested firmly; then he picked up the leather bag and his lantern and walked across the bridge. without further delay, they turned and walked down the stream again. no attempt was made to discuss the affair until they had forded the river and returned to the stage road near which the automobile had been left. hal was then the first to speak. "where's frank?" he inquired. "we took him back to the school and put him in bed," replied mr. frankland. "evidently you could see and recognize him from behind the waterfall." "yes," answered the boy. then he continued: "it wasn't his fault that i was trapped behind the fall. it was all an accident. he slipped and hit the board with his foot." hal's companions were amused at this unconscious charity toward frank. if there had been light enough they probably would have winked at each other. in his fear of the gallows, the former youthful terrorizer had confessed just how he happened to kick the plank into the waterfall and, as he thought, dropped hal to a fearful fate. with little delay, except to crank the machine, they all got into the automobile and soon were bowling along the stage road. as they were leaving the cañon, dr. byrd inquired: "what kind of place is that cave, hal?" the boy gave a brief description of it; then he added: "it's a dandy. it isn't so awfully big, but it's big enough; and it's so different from most caves." "you didn't find any rubies or garnets or streaks of gold there, did you?" inquired mr. frankland, nudging the boy, who sat beside him in the back seat. "no, but there might be something of the kind. i wish we could go back with lots of lanterns and examine the place carefully." "i think we'll forget all about that cave for a while at least," announced the doctor with an air of decision. "it came near proving a fatal discovery, and i feel like waiting until i've had time to get over this scare." hal had offered his suggestion rather doubtfully, for he felt that a scolding was due him and frank for their boldness in crossing the river and continuing their search along the steep shore on the west side. however, the adventure had proved successful, for the lost bag of specimens had been found; so the boy did not feel nearly so much like a culprit as he would have felt in the face of failure. but the doctor said nothing more that might sound like criticism. he was too thankful for the discovery and rescue of the lost boy for that. presently the talk was changed to the bag of specimens. naturally much wonder was felt because of the place where it had been found. hal explained his theory that in falling from the aeroplane it had struck a slanting projection of rock and bounded into the cave. "of course that's barely possible," said dr. byrd; "but it's hardly probable. i can't get away from the belief that the bag did not break loose in the air." "you think it fell to the ground with the aeroplane?" hal inquired. "yes. why not? i can't conceive what force could have broken or pulled it loose before the machine hit the ground. did it just happen to come untied from the strut at that time? barely possible." "how did it get into the cave then?" asked mr. porter. "somebody put it there if it didn't fall there," volunteered pepper. "of course," said the doctor. "somebody _might_ have put it in the cave," agreed hal reflectively. "we weren't the first ones to discover the place." "how do you know?" inquired dr. byrd quickly. "by the plank we found in the bushes. it was there for a bridge, that was plain. somebody's been using the cave for something." exclamations of surprise greeted this information. "did you find anything in the cave that tended to prove your suspicion?" asked mr. frankland. "nothing except the leather bag." hal hoped that his suggestions would arouse the interest of dr. byrd to such an extent that he would decide upon further investigation, but he was disappointed. if the owner of lakefarm felt any such desire, he failed to express it. on their arrival at the school, the automobile was run into the garage, and then a general move was made for their bedrooms. while the doctor explained matters to his wife, hal and the two instructors had gone to bed. the noise hal made in entering the dormitory and walking along the hall awakened bun bowler, who was sleeping with his brother frank. eagerly bun slipped out of bed and peeped through the slightly opened doorway. "oh, they've brought hal back," he said to himself. "i wonder where they found him." had it been frank he would have yelled out a congratulation, in spite of the lateness of the hour and the rule requiring quiet in the dormitory, but byron crept quietly back into the bed. as he crawled over his brother--frank always insisted on sleeping in front--the latter gave a start and a jerk and cried in a voice of terror: "i won't do it any more! i won't do it any more! i won't threaten to clout anybody in the jaw--never, never again!" chapter xi convincing bad. the next day was one of rejoicing among the boy scouts of lakefarm. if there had been any doubt concerning the popularity of hal kenyon, that doubt surely was gone now. the fact that his parents were poor made no difference with any of his schoolmates. indeed, dr. byrd would not have permitted any feeling against hal on this account. there would have been trouble instantly. the news of hal's return spread rapidly soon after sun-up. it was communicated principally in the wash room, accompanied by a wild rumor of the manner in which he had been entrapped. some one started a story that hal had been a prisoner in a robbers' cave and was rescued only with much daring and danger. frank's connection with the real adventure remained in darkness. nobody, except hal, dr. byrd, mrs. byrd, the two instructors, pepper, and frank himself, knew anything about it, and there had been a general agreement that it was wisest to keep the matter secret. hal and frank both slept late that morning. the doctor gave orders that they should not be awakened until they had "had their sleep out." while the others were eating breakfast, mr. frankland went to frank's room and found the latter dressing. the boy's eyes were red and swollen from weeping. he searched the face of the instructor carefully, and then inquired, with trembling voice: "did you find him, mr. frankland?" "certainly," replied the latter reassuringly. "and did you get him out?" "you bet we did." "alive?" "alive." "and is he here--alive?" "he surely is," declared mr. frankland, the smile on his face broadening. frank was so overcome with relief that for several minutes he was unable to continue his dressing. a stocking that he had been in the act of putting on dropped to the floor, and it seemed that he could not reach down and pick it up again. he had been ready for this announcement, and yet it was hard for him to believe that it was true. he could not get rid of that picture of hal falling with the water onto the rocks at the foot of the cataract. it was so real that only the sight of his friend standing before him would convince him that his eyes had not fooled him. "come, frank; hurry up and get dressed, and i'll take you to hal and show him to you," urged mr. frankland, still with a smile of amusement. this promise renewed frank's energy, and he picked up the stocking and pulled it on. then he slipped on his shoes and announced that he was ready to call on his rescued schoolmate. they stepped out into the hall and walked several doors toward the farther end. hal's door was slightly ajar, and mr. frankland pushed it wide open and they walked in. hal was still asleep. frank stepped forward, like one in a trance, and placed one hand on the face of the sleeper. suddenly hal's eyes opened wide and he sat up in bed. he recalled everything immediately, as his first words indicated: "hello, bad; i'm all right. why, what's the matter?" and no wonder! frank had fallen forward on the bed and buried his face in the counterpane. the relief of the truth was too much for him. mr. frankland had not realized the tenseness of the nervous strain under which the boy was laboring, or he would have proceeded more carefully. "frank, what _is_ the matter?" repeated hal, himself half alarmed. the other boy sobbed on for a minute or two, and hal threw off the bed clothes and sat on the edge of the bed. then he shifted his gaze from frank to the instructor and back to the boy again. but finally frank got sufficient control of himself to choke down his sobs, and he arose and wiped his eyes with his fists and said: "i----i thought sure you was dead, hal. how--in the world did you get out?" "out o' where--the cave?" inquired the older boy. "no, out o' the water." "out o' the water? i wasn't in the water." "you wasn't?" frank's eyes opened very wide again. he had been assured of this before, but it was as incredible from hal. still with a wondering look in his eyes and disbelief in his voice, he continued, putting one hand on his friend's left arm: "hal, i saw you fall. you went down, down. i saw you, oh, i did." the other laughed outright. the laugh was so merry and hearty that presently frank wasn't so sure of what he had seen as he thought he had been. then hal gave his delusion a further jar by saying: "no you didn't do any such thing, frank. i didn't fall at all. is that what made you run away so fast? it was getting dark, you know, and maybe there was a shadow in the water that looked like me falling." "that must have been it," declared frank with a big sigh of relief. then he laughed hysterically, for the picture in his memory had changed. instead of a falling boy, he saw a shadow, or a dark-colored patch of water, in the tumbling flood. that settled it. frank recovered his nerve, but he was a much quieter boy for several days after. he was fourteen years old, his voice had already "changed," and he was begging permission from his parents to wear long trousers on "dress" occasions; hence, it was no wonder that such an experience as he had recently gone through should convince him that it was about time for him to mend his ways. lakefarm was a comparatively tame place for several days following the happenings in mummy cañon. after the affair had been thoroughly discussed by the boys and nothing more of interest could be found, the subject was laid aside and picked up only now and then. the bag of specimens was returned to its owner and little more was heard concerning that for some time. but the aviator, mr. miles, continued to be of interest, for the boys looked eagerly forward to the time when his broken bones would be sufficiently mended to enable him to be among them and tell them stories of his adventures. the summer program in the school was more of a vacation series of doings than anything else. some book work and shop duties were required each week, but these were really a relief from the long succession of outings and excursions that filled the greater part of the summer program. among the favorite sports at the school were baseball and swimming. the campus and the lake were therefore scenes of much activity in the warmer months. all things considered, it was a lively time the boys at lakefarm school had the year round. because of these activities, the young scouts looked forward with little interest toward vacation-time. most of them spent the christmas holidays at home, but few remained away from the school during the whole summer season. at the time of the beginning of these events, the vacation weeks were more than half gone, and the absentees were fast returning. a special program, including an excursion to the grand cañon of the colorado river, was scheduled for the latter part of august and the early part of september, and most of the scouts were expected to be present for this. the boys of lakefarm were skilled in mountain climbing. it was their experience in this line that emboldened hal and frank to hunt along the steep bank of flathead river for the lost bag of specimens. however, dr. byrd's policy on all mountain-climbing excursions was to avoid steep and dangerous places, and he felt that he had good reason to scold them for taking such a chance. on the day following the imprisonment of hal in the waterfall cave, the doctor summoned all the boys into the assembly room and lectured them. he told them he had thought his instructions from time to time in mountain climbing had impressed upon them sufficiently the importance of judgment in their excursions among the hills. finally he wound up by saying: "it seems that some of you boys need another lesson on this subject. so our next outing will be a mountain climb. we'll have to give you some more advice as to where to go and what places to avoid. as soon as the other boys get back we will go over and climb porcupine hill." "and see aunt sarah jane," whispered pickles to ferdinand loudly enough to be heard by all in the room. dr. byrd smiled. he expected some such eager demonstration. aunt sarah jane turman was an aged woman who lived with her husband on the very peak of the mountain. porcupine hill was one of the lower mountains of the neighborhood, being just west of flathead and affording the best view of the top of the latter. aunt sarah was an interesting character, a kind-hearted nurse, ever thoughtful of the welfare of her friends and acquaintances. most of the boys had been up there several times and every one of them adopted mrs. turman as his aunt on beholding her pleasant face and hearing her cheery voice and eating some of her "dandy" bread covered with a liberal supply of homemade jam. so the doctor's lecture closed with anything but an unpleasant announcement, the fulfillment of which was to prove of considerable importance in the chain of events that made notable that summer at lakefarm, mummy cañon and flathead mountain. chapter xii airship plans the climb up porcupine hill was not made as soon as most of the boys had hoped. several weeks elapsed and the program that had been mapped out by the doctor was too full for any additions. meanwhile all the absent boys of the school returned, and the trip to grand cañon was taken. only one-fourth of the boys took this trip this year, it always being reserved for the fourth-year, or senior, pupils. hal kenyon was one of the eleven boys who visited these wonders of the colorado river on this occasion. and on his return he was so full of the delights of the scenery that mummy cañon and flathead were for a time of minor interest. but in time their old fascination returned. the cave behind the waterfall at no time ceased to be an object of much interest to him, and he was continually wishing that something would put it into dr. byrd's head to make a thorough inspection of the cavern. and if this were done, hal naturally hoped that he would be one of the inspectors. meanwhile the broken bones of aviator miles mended rapidly. as soon as it was deemed safe, he was permitted to leave his bed and hobble around on crutches, his leg still in a cast, however. from the time of his first exit from the hospital, he was an object of much interest to the boys. they gathered around him at every opportunity and begged for stories of his experiences, and he usually had something of absorbing interest to tell. he told them that he had been among the rockies from yellowstone national park to the grand cañon for two months before his accident, and he exhibited before their eager eyes his collection of stones and quartz that hal had discovered in the waterfall cave. "but they're not all here," he remarked as he poured them out on a newspaper that he had spread on the lawn in front of dr. byrd's home. he was seated on the grass while a score of boys stood around in eager attention. "where are the others?" inquired fes. "i don't know," replied the aviator slowly. "there were six pretty fair sized gold nuggets in the bag when i fell; or they were there a few hours before, and i don't see how they could have disappeared." "i didn't see any when i opened the bag in the cave." hal volunteered this information, but the sentence was finished with a different tone of voice from the tone at the beginning. in the midst of his statement he suddenly realized the importance to him of the disappearance of the nuggets, and a lump arose in his throat, so that he could hardly finish what he started to say. everybody noticed the change in kenyon's voice, and all looked at him as if for an explanation. conscious of his seeming self-betrayal and of the inquiring glances directed at him, he blushed with confusion. the aviator suspected at once that these were signs of guilt. but hal knew better and flashed back a look of scorn and indignation at his silent accusers. recovering his natural tone, he said in a cool, measured voice: "i don't know what became of those nuggets. they certainly were not in the bag when i opened it." most of the boys believed in hal and were convinced by this sturdy statement. mr. miles, however, was not convinced, although he did not like to hold any suspicion against a boy who had impressed him so well. but he saw nothing to be gained by embarrassing kenyon at present. "well," he said; "this isn't the only mystery connected with the affair. i'm just as curious to know how the bag ever got into that cave." "you think somebody put it there?" hal inquired. "being an invalid and unable to get around very conveniently, i haven't been able to inspect the place yet. but from all descriptions received, i'm in need of more evidence to convince me that it bounced in there by accident. in the first place, i'm dead certain it fell to the ground with the aeroplane." "maybe the strut it was tied to was what broke and made you fall," suggested hal. "it wasn't a strut at all that broke. it was a couple of stay wires. the struts couldn't break under any but the most extraordinary circumstances." "are you goin' to fix up your aeroplane again, or get a new one?" asked hugh messinger. "oh, nothing can be done with that pile of junk. you boys might as well burn the wood and tote the steel framework into your blacksmith shop." "are you going to quit flying?" asked byron bowler. mr. miles looked with keen amusement at the last questioner and replied with a wink: "do i look like a quitter?" he surely didn't, although forced to stop for several weeks with some broken bones. miles was a sturdy, determined-looking man, with firm-set jaw and clear bright eye that gave no hint of hesitation. "what you going to do? buy another airship?" byron persisted. "i've bought one already." "you have!" eagerly exclaimed several of the boys. "where is it?" one of them continued. "it's on its way out here." "out here!" this exclamation also came in chorus from half a dozen astonished boy scouts. "yes," answered the crippled aviator; "it's on its way out here. but it isn't put together ready to fly. it's in the knock-down. i'm going to give you boys the job of putting it together." "oh!--when will it be here?" asked one enthusiastic youngster. "in a week. dr. byrd and i had several talks about the matter, and he's decided to let you boys have the job. i won't be strong enough to do much on it myself, but i'll be on hand and boss." "what kind is it going to be?" asked pickles. "like the one you fell in?" "not exactly. it'll be a biplane, but a much better one than the ozone." "what's the ozone?" inquired ferdinand. "that's the name of the biplane i fell in. the new one will carry two passengers besides the operator." "oh, ain't that fine!" cried glen juza. "it's just swell. and can we all have a ride?" "oh-ho," laughed miles. "i thought it would come to that. but it really isn't up to me to decide. i might say yes, and dr. byrd might say no. he probably would." disappointed looks and expressions followed this prophecy. the doctor's pupils could just as well have predicted such an outlook without the assistance of older heads, but they were naturally optimistic. "but don't be discouraged, boys," added the aviator. "your time will come sooner or later. maybe you'll be afraid to go up with me when you see the airship all finished. it--" "yes we will!" "i wouldn't!" "you don't know me!" were some of the brave interruptions. "it won't look very safe," was the aviator's warning. "pretty thin and flimsy." "i don't care; i'll go up in anything you will," cried frank bowler, who had listened to the conversation in silence up to this time. he was gradually regaining his former nerve and bluster, but his voice did not yet have a natural ring. "what will the new aeroplane look like?" asked hal kenyon. most of the boys by this time had spent their enthusiasm and settled down to quieter attention. seated on the grass, they waited eagerly for the answer to kenyon's question. by this time a good crowd of boys had joined the audience. "i may as well give you your first lesson in aeroplane building right now," began the aviator, shifting slightly to ease his crippled limb. "first, do you all know what a biplane is?" "it's an airship," said one. "no, it's an aeroplane," corrected another. "what's the difference between a biplane and a monoplane?" interposed mr. miles. this was a puzzler for most of the boys. after several had answered and flunked, hal kenyon spoke up: "a monoplane has one plane, and a biplane has two planes." "what is a plane?" "a flat surface." "good," complimented mr. miles. "you know a little geometry. the planes are the wings of an aeroplane. "now, the aeroplane will be built on this plan: the part that will interest you boys most will be the cabin. as i said, it will carry two passengers comfortably besides the operator. and it is to be so arranged with an automatically shifting weight that these passengers can move about without disturbing the balance of the ship. "this will really be an airship. the ordinary aeroplane is not entitled to such a name, for it is merely a skeleton without any body. this vessel will have a real body, made mostly of aluminum, except the glass windows and ports. the front, or prow, will be blunt in accord with the latest ideas of air friction. the front and rear of this cabin will be supplied with flexible slides that may be slipped around to the sides, leaving the front and rear open. this will remove practically all resistance, except for perpendicular rods six inches apart, giving the cabin something of the appearance of a cage. "in cold weather, or in high altitudes, these slides can be closed and the cabin warmed with a small alcohol stove. otherwise there will be little remarkable about the ship. you will all be interested in such details as the motor and the steering and weather apparatus. you will learn all about the altitude barometer and the anemometer, or speed measurer. in other words, you will absorb a lot of information on air navigation while putting this airship together." "how about that weight?" hal questioned as the instructor in aeronautics paused. "you say it shifts automatically. can you explain that so we can understand how it keeps the ship from turning over?" "i'll try. the floor is of a flexible material. as one walks here and there, it is pressed downward and by means of a delicate mechanical device, shifts a weight on a rod. the shifting of this weight alters the angle of the ailerons at the ends of the wings and prevents the machine from tipping out of balance. understand?" blank looks on every face before him advised mr. miles that he had been too technical for the boys, so he added: "you'll understand easily as you advance in the construction of the vessel. but possibly this may give you a hint of what i am driving at: changing the angles of the ailerons has the same effect in an up-and-down direction, as turning a boat's rudder has from side to side." still few of the boys understood what he meant, although hal kenyon and one or two others believed they did. later, when he found an opportunity, hal, with pencil and paper, made some drawings and studied over them and altered them until he was certain that he had a clear idea of the plan. then he took his last drawing to mr. miles and explained it to him, and the aviator told him he was right. chapter xiii the "painter" a few days later the promised trip up porcupine hill was taken. an early start was made, the forty-four boys of the school, clad in semi-warlike uniforms, looking like a company of young soldiers as they marched over the hills to the south and west toward the mountains on the right of mummy cañon. meanwhile hal, by his frank and straightforward manner, established himself in the confidence of miles so well as to remove all doubt as to his innocence regarding the disappearance of the nuggets. the mystery remained still unsolved, but it seemed certain that any suspicion directed toward hal was entirely unjust. porcupine hill was four miles from lakefarm. the easiest ascent was on the southern side, but to reach this it would be necessary to travel an additional two miles around the base. on that side it was more than two miles to the peak, and this was the course generally used by those dwelling on the peak and the side of the mountain. on the opposite side the ascent was shorter and much steeper, and this was the route taken by the boys whenever they went up to see aunt sarah jane. mr. and mrs. turman were real uncle and aunt of two of the boys of the school, byron and frank bowler. the aged couple were always glad to receive their two nephews and their friends, and took pains to make them feel welcome. fifteen years before, while prospecting, they had discovered a vein of gold near the peak and had staked out claims. but finding gold on a mountain peak and mining it profitably are two different propositions, and they found it necessary to do some sharp engineering of various sorts. a company was formed and incorporation papers taken out. then followed negotiations with various moneyed interests and an entanglement that tied matters up. since then nothing of importance had been done. when he found that he was not going to make his fortune in the mine, "uncle sam," as mr. turman was familiarly known for miles around, desired to move to jimtown or some other settlement in the valley; but aunt sarah jane had been cured of rheumatism in this high and dry altitude, and she was afraid it would come back if they moved below. so they continued to live on the mountain peak in their cabin of slabs and rude timbers made warmer in winter with banks of sod and straw heaped close and high around the foundation. it was a picturesque place, with everything crude but neat, clean, and comfortable. the boys always enjoyed going up there. the view was wide and magnificent. several towns were visible, nestled here and there in the valleys or on the hillsides. at night their lights shone prettily in the deep-down distance. on one occasion while some of the boys were on the peak, they witnessed a storm several hundred feet below them and marveled at the novelty of looking down upon banks of clouds with lightning flashing among them. so the boy scouts had much of interest before them when one fine morning early in september they set out in a body to climb porcupine hill. the ascent began over a slowly rising ridge of ground that ran along the base of the mountain, then led directly up the steep incline for some distance, and finally lost itself in a winding trail that curved among and about rocks and bushes and projecting cliffs. the climb, because of its winding nature, was much longer than a straight course would have been, so that nearly two hours were spent between the base and peak. the boys were equipped with luncheons, water canteens, hike-sticks, a few cameras and field-glasses. for climbing footgear, they wore heavy swiss hob-nailed shoes and gaiters. their clothes were of strong, coarse material that would stand much wear and resist the tearing pulls of shrubbery and briars. aunt sarah jane was delighted to see them. it was the first time all the scouts of the school had been up there together. at noon she brought out some tablecloths and spread them on the grass and invited the boys to prepare their dinner picnic style. hal and byron took the burro belonging to mr. and mrs. turman and rode halfway down the southern side to a neighbor's well and filled two large canvas bottles with water. these they hung over the burro's shoulders by a strap connecting them and then began their journey back up to the peak. the mountain was thickly wooded on this side, but the surface was rough, and the trail consequently very winding. only one of the boys rode at a time on the return trip; when one became tired, the one on the burro dismounted and permitted the other to ride. in this manner they had gone half of the return distance, when suddenly something happened that added a new sensation to their mountain experiences. just as they were rounding a bluff in a sparsely wooded spot, a dark object darted across their path, causing the burro to give a jump so sudden as to throw byron from its back. like an arrow from a bow, the slow and sleepy beast shot up the side of the mountain, leaving the boys to the tender mercies of the cause of its fright. at first the two scouts were only astonished, for they could not imagine any more dangerous animal in that locality than a wildcat. there were said to be a few of these in the mountains, but they were shy and fled at the sight of man. this beast, however, was larger than a wildcat and did not seem to be disposed to run at the sight of the boys. it was a slender long-limbed, cat-like animal, with reddish-gray fur. after springing across the path, the beast turned and seemed to hesitate, as if not knowing whether to pursue the burro or to direct its attention toward the boys. "what is it?" byron asked as he clung tremblingly to his companion. he had been severely shaken by his fall, but not seriously injured. "it's a mountain lion," replied hal with all the steadiness of voice he could command. being older and larger than byron, he felt that the responsibility of the situation rested on him. "let's run," proposed the smaller boy, tugging at hal's sleeve. "no, we mustn't do that," replied the latter. "if we stand still and don't seem to be afraid, he may go away and leave us alone." hal now had good reason to congratulate himself on his industry during his three years at lakefarm. he had found much of interest in the doctor's library, reading everything that appealed to his taste. among the books that he most enjoyed were illustrated natural histories, and it is little wonder that he recognized now the kind of beast before him, although he had never before seen one. he remembered also that these books had informed him that mountain lions are not so fierce as commonly thought, that they usually hunt at night and are cowardly and little to be feared unless cornered. the puma was only a few rods away from hal and byron, who stood close to the bluff that formed a turning point in the path. for more than a minute boys and beast stood facing each other, neither moving. byron wished to run and continued to pull at his companion's coat-sleeve, but hal, relying on his book information, stood firm. presently the beast backed away. "see? what did i tell you?" exclaimed the older boy gleefully. but his exultation was somewhat hysterical, indicating the strain he had undergone. the puma backed slowly at first, but presently his retreat became more rapid. then suddenly he turned and, with a few bounds, disappeared among the pine trees. hal was now willing to run, and both boys started out at their best pace up the trail. the ascent was not very steep here, so they ran some distance before they were too tired to go farther. then they stopped and looked back, and, seeing no sign of the lion, they rested a while. then they took things a little easier, but they went faster than they would have under ordinary circumstances. a short distance from the top of the mountain, they were met by all the other boys, dr. byrd, mr. frankland, mr. porter, and mr. and mrs. turman, who were much excited. the burro had returned alone and with more speed than it had ever been known to make before. naturally this caused alarm, and a general rush was made to investigate. hal and byron excitedly explained what had happened. then followed a rapid succession of questions and answers until all the details of the adventure were told. finally aunt sarah jane added a new element of interest by saying: "maybe it was the painter i saw over on flathead one day. it was early in the morning and i saw some kind of animal moving about over there. but it was so far away i couldn't make out what it was. i thought at first it was a man." chapter xiv building the airship fortunately the waterbottles had been well saddled on the burro, and it carried them safely to the top of the mountain, in spite of its wild flight from the lion. everything now being ready, the troop of scouts returned to where the luncheon had been spread and sat around and ate. of course the lion was the chief subject of conversation at the dinner. mr. and mrs. turman both declared they were surprised at its appearance, as they had not heard of any of its kind in that part of the country for several years. naturally, too, the statement of mrs. turman that she had seen a moving object that might have been a man on top of flathead directed some interest toward that mountain. "it seemed to be walking erect like a man," she said in reply to further questions; "but it might 'ave been the painter. i couldn't make sure what it was. i wish i'd had a pair of glasses like some of you boys have." "i've heard it said that there's some cliff-dwellers' houses over on that mountain," volunteered uncle sam. "i don't know where the story came from, for there's nobody around here now that's ever been up there. i don't see how anybody could climb that mountain." "let's examine it with our glasses," suggested byron, who had a pair slung over his shoulder. half a dozen binoculars were quickly unslung, and the holders were soon searching the singular upheaval of stones and earth more than a mile to the east. "i see something that looks like some houses right in the side of the mountain," announced byron. "oh, yes, there are some cliff houses," replied mr. turman. "there's a big hollow place right in the side of the mountain about thirty feet up. there's a regular cliff there, and you can see where pieces of wood were driven in to make a ladder to climb up." "is that so?" dr. byrd exclaimed in surprise. "i never knew that." "yes; there's no road or trail along that side of the mountain and hardly anybody ever goes near it." "well! this is a surprise to me," declared the doctor. "i thought i knew this country pretty thoroughly, but it seems that a very important feature has escaped me." mr. frankland and mr. porter knew just as little, and the faculty of the school at once decided that a trip of investigation should be made in the near future. a search of the plateau, or mesa, on flathead, with the aid of the glasses, produced little result of special interest. the doctor expressed considerable surprise on finding it so large. there was a patch of timber on the farther half, while the nearer half was made up of several hills and ravines and a few rocky elevations and bluffs. "i'd give a good deal to get up there and examine that mesa," said dr. byrd. "we might find something interesting. there's a glittering spot near the middle that looks as if it might be water shining in the sunlight." "i know how we can get up there," hal announced with sudden eagerness. everybody turned toward him. "how?" asked pickles. "in mr. miles' airship when it's finished." "that's a brilliant idea," laughed the doctor. "well, hal, if anybody besides mr. miles himself makes that trip, you ought to be allowed to." "can i?" kenyon asked eagerly. "no, of course not. i was only joking. really, i'd like to see you all make the trip, but you know it's out of the question." three hours were spent by the scout company on the top of the mountain. they visited the shafts that had been sunk by the aged miner and heard him tell of how wealthy he might have become had it not been for people who schemed against him. they traveled over every foot of the wooded peak, making note of curious formations and conditions and gaining much information. then they set out on their return, making the descent a little to the west of their ascent. during all their stay on the mountain and their return to lakefarm they kept a keen lookout for the panther, but saw nothing of it. "when mr. miles gets well and his new airship is finished, maybe he'll hunt the mountain lion like an eagle," suggested hal to several of the boys on the way down. "my! wouldn't it be great if we could go with him," said lee huff with explosive enthusiasm. "if they don't chain me to the earth, i don't see how i'll keep from running off with the airship," said frank bowler. "yes, you'd do wonders, you would," pickles sniffed. "he'd likely turn acrobat and tumble into the cañon," hal suggested. "then he'd he stuck up on flathead for another mummy," chuckled ferdinand. "aw! close your face or i'll clip you one," frank snapped, a little provoked. he was forgetting his voluntary promise not to make any more such rash threats. if dr. byrd had heard this threat, doubtless bad would have been reminded of his resolution. they arrived at the school without further incident, and next day the aviator listened to a chorus of stories of their experiences on the mountain. when the suggestion was repeated that he hunt the mountain lion in his new airship as soon as it was finished, mr. miles replied: "that's a good idea and i promise you i'll follow it." but the sportsmen of the town were not content to sit idly by and wait for an injured stranger to recover, build an aeroplane, and carry off such rare game, together with all honors. no sooner did they hear of the presence of a puma in the neighborhood than hunting parties began to form and to scour the mountains in search of the big cat. several days went by but the results were uniformly unsatisfactory, for no trace of the puma was discovered. the boys of the school desired to take part in the search, but dr. byrd would not grant permission. he did not regard it safe for so many boys to be at large in the mountains with guns, and no guns were kept at the school. they would have been glad to take part in the hunt with clubs and bows and arrows, for they were skilled in the use of the latter, but the doctor did not take kindly to this suggestion either. meanwhile the parts of the new airship arrived at the school. they were carefully crated and were conveyed over the government road from the nearest railroad station in two wagons. it was a day of much excitement when they arrived, interest in the mountain lion being almost entirely eclipsed. then the work of putting together the parts of the novel aeroplane began. perhaps forty-four boys never before worked so industriously. there was little use of expecting them to do much of anything else during the period and consequently dr. byrd wisely suspended temporarily the ordinary routine of the school. the institution was transformed into an airship factory for several days, the work progressing slowly in order that a thorough study of aviation might be made along with the mechanical construction. finally the task was completed, and a temporary hangar was put up at one corner of the campus. in fact this structure was the last, or finishing shop of the factory, for it was here that the final preparations for flying were made. mr. miles was able to walk with the leg that had been broken, but he still used a crutch, and did little but superintend the job. one morning the new air vessel was wheeled out of the hangar and onto the campus, and as the forty-four boy scouts circled around and gazed upon the result of their work, a ringing cheer of triumph awoke the echoes of the distant hills. "fly, mr. miles, fly!" yelled one youthful enthusiast. "not yet," replied the convalescent aviator. "wait until these bones mend good and solid, and then i'll soar around those mountains like an eagle. i'll explore flathead and i'll find the mountain lion too, if he hasn't left this part of the country." chapter xv stolen wealth there was special reason why dr. byrd should feel more than ordinary interest in mr. miles. both of them had long been enthusiastic collectors of souvenirs and curios of many kinds, and it was not long after their first meeting that each of them discovered the similarity of their hobbies. they were together frequently thereafter, both in the hospital and out of it. they talked of the places they had visited and the sights they had seen and the curios they had collected until it seemed almost that they must have been companions in all their travels and all their hunts. then dr. byrd pulled out some of his trunks, opened them and disclosed a wealth of treasures such as caused the eyes of the aviator to stand out big with astonishment. this treasure was not so remarkable in money value, perhaps; but it was indeed wonderful in novelty and abundance. an idea of the nature of this collection may be presented by a description of a few samples. one of them was an oriental jewel casket of engraved rock and crystal mounted in enameled silver. two other articles of special interest, because of their rarity, were a set of checkers made of sharks' vertebrae and an "eye" from an egyptian mummy case. this eye was made of bronze and black and white marble. a long chapter could be devoted to a description of the doctor's collection. as he exhibited them to mr. miles he handed over for inspection some abalone pearls of california, blister pearls of ceylon, a necklace of fluorescent amber from sicily, jade ornaments, smoky quartz, brazilian crystal balls, topaz from the ural mountains, petrified wood, moss agate, rainbow agate, bloodstone from india, sardonyx from uruguay, a texan jasperized wood ornament, a jasper tray from the ural mountains, fire opals, norwegian sunstone, and an enameled talisman necklace. undoubtedly dr. byrd valued this collection much higher than a disinterested authority would have valued it, but there is little doubt also that it would have brought a considerable sum even at an auction sale. nevertheless, the owner of lakefarm could not throw off something of an air of sadness as he was exhibiting his treasured gems and curios. "two years ago," he remarked to the aviator, "i could have shown you a collection that would have opened your eyes much wider. i then had a dozen other stones that were worth several times as much as all of these together, but they were stolen." "did a burglar break in?" asked mr. miles. "no, i wouldn't feel so badly if they had gone in such manner. but it was a trusted employe that took them. he had been a teacher at the school for a year and i grew to like him exceedingly. he was really a brilliant fellow and i admired him. in fact, i gave him my full confidence. at the end of his year he resigned, and a few days later i discovered my loss." "couldn't you find him?" inquired mr. miles. "certainly. that's what made it so hard to prove anything against him. he was the smoothest kind, all nerve and calculation." "how do you know he took them?" "didn't you ever know anything you couldn't prove?" replied the doctor slowly. "i knew who stole those gems the instant i found them missing. immediately i saw his excellent qualities in a new light. he was an extremely clever hypocrite." "did you meet him afterward?" "no, i never saw him again. i put it up to the police. i told them of my suspicions, but couldn't give them any information that tended to fasten guilt on maxwell any more than on anybody else." "maxwell was his name?" "yes. the police worked a while on the case, but gradually gave it up. then i wrote to maxwell and informed him plainly where my suspicion rested. "he wrote a reply full of indignation and reproach, but it didn't ring true. i've noticed the smartest rascals seem to be unable to seem entirely innocent when they know they are suspected. it's a remarkable study, criminology. and yet, it's as simple as a-b-c." "in what way?" "everything's simple when you understand it, i'm ready to believe. if we could learn the secret of the universe, we'd be astonished to find out what a simple proposition it is." "you're getting pretty deep," smiled miles. "perhaps i am. but i'm confident that the effects of dishonesty on the dishonest person are similar to the effects of the use of an untrue square in the construction of a building. he absolutely can't help growing out of plumb. when you appreciate that rule, you will understand how i knew that maxwell committed the theft." it was months after the resignation of rodney maxwell before the boys of lakefarm learned of the stealing of the gems, and then the information came to them in a vague manner. pepperill humphrey let the first hint drop, and the curiosity of the young scouts would not let him alone until he revealed some more of his information. pepper had many good qualities, but he was very talkative, and did not require much pumping to set him going in earnest, and soon the secret ceased to be a secret. the conversations between the doctor and mr. miles on the subject of their collections led to a move highly pleasing to the boy scouts of lakefarm. dr. byrd had several times expressed a desire to explore the cave behind the waterfall, where the aviator's lost bag of souvenirs had been found. to both of them this cave was a place of some mystery, and naturally they felt considerable interest in a solution. "i'd like to know how that bag got in there," said the doctor one day. "and the first step toward finding out must consist of an inspection of the cave and its immediate vicinity." "i agree with you," returned miles. "i'd like to go with you when you inspect the place, but it'll be a week or two before i can stand any vigorous exercise." "it seems to me that you're entitled to accompany the first expedition of discovery," continued the doctor slowly. "but, as you say, you won't be able to move about in a lively manner for some time. now, i have a plan. it's been working in my mind for several days, and i've about decided to put it into execution. "it is this: mummy cañon is really a remarkable place. it's a wonder to me that it hasn't been exploited as a resort long before this. i'm seriously considering, mr. miles, a plan to purchase the whole of the cañon from the government and to enter on an extensive real estate project. "of course i'll incorporate, but i propose to retain a controlling interest in the stock company. i'll buy the land, get out my incorporation papers, and then invite some eastern promoters here to look at my proposition. "i'm dead sure the thing could be made a success. the d. and r. g. railroad is about to run a short line this way, and with a little advertising we'd soon have all the people out here we could take care of. a hotel, some cottages, and conveniences for sportsmen and sight-seers ought to start things humming. "and the cave would be an important attraction. but it must be made accessible. so i have planned to give the boys a little experience in bridge and road engineering. i want to construct a foot bridge over the river near the rapids and dig a walk along the steep western bank right up to the cave. i would put up railings to make it safe and a well-protected bridge from the bank through the fall into the cave." "that's a great idea!" exclaimed miles, enthusiastically slapping his sound leg. "when are you going to begin work?" "in a day or two. i've so nearly decided to put the big scheme into operation that i've already begun action on the smaller one. the lumber for the bridges and railing will be delivered at the cañon to-morrow." "good! i'm heartily in sympathy with the work. the boys will like it too." "oh, i've had the boys in mind all the time," declared the doctor warmly. "the young scouts of lakefarm, i intend, shall have much to do in the building up of mummy cañon. the work will be full of lessons in engineering, construction and business." of course the boys were delighted when they were informed of this plan. the doctor did not tell them of the larger scheme he had in view, as that was not yet fully decided upon. a few days later work was begun. the lumber had been delivered at the shallow place near the head of the rapids, which was the place selected for bridge number one. the stream was wide at this place, but this width suited the purpose of dr. byrd the better, for he desired a task worthy of the efforts of forty-four energetic boys. first, it was necessary to put in foundations for the abutments and supports of the bridge. this was done by gathering stones and bowlders and wedging them in place as securely as possible. then followed the task of sawing the timbers into proper lengths, according to plans that had been prepared under the supervision of mr. frankland and mr. porter. this done, the frame work was put up and the planks nailed down and the railings placed. it was really a very satisfactory piece of work. first of all, it was stable and safe to walk upon. second, it presented a neat appearance. third, the boys had done it all themselves. the bridge was finished in two working days. the doctor, in mapping out the program, provided for alternate days of work at the river and study at the school, so that three days elapsed before the bridge was completed. then another day was spent at their books, after which the boys returned to the cañon and began making a level foot-path along the steep western bank of the river. this was done in short shifts in order that the work might be pushed rapidly without fatigue. half a dozen picks and shovels were kept swinging vigorously and the way the earth and stones went flying into the river said the work would soon be done. two weeks after the starting of the work on the larger bridge the entire work was finished. there was a strong railing on the river side of the path and a narrow well-protected bridge through the waterfall to the cave behind. it was nearly night when the last nail was driven, and as they had no lanterns with them, it was decided not to explore the cave on this occasion, but to reserve this inspection for a special excursion on a later day. that evening at lakefarm, however, something happened that was destined to bring about a decided change in the program with reference to this plan. the person most affected was hal kenyon. it meant trouble for him and some extremely perilous adventures for some of the boys. in the wash room hal drew a handkerchief from his pocket, and as he did so something heavy and metallic hit the floor. several of his schoolmates heard the sound, and pickles sprang forward and picked up the object. as he did this, hal also made a spring and attempted to snatch it away from pickles. the latter, however, with no uncivil intent, edged away, at the same time gazing eagerly at the small, heavy object in his hand. "oh, hal, it's gold!" he exclaimed. "where did you get it?" "what's that?" inquired a voice that chilled kenyon through, and, looking up, he saw mr. miles advancing toward them. he had discarded his crutches and was using a cane. he held out his free hand toward pickles, who, like one hypnotized, delivered the object of interest to the aviator. the latter looked at it eagerly for a moment, then fastened his eyes on hal with searching gaze. "boy," he said sternly after a moment's silence; "this nugget is mine. i thought you said--" he did not finish the sentence, for hal's face had become so pale that it seemed as if he was going to faint. chapter xvi flight if mr. johnson miles had charged him of theft with a loud voice, hal could not have felt the accusation more keenly than he felt it in the aviator's look and tones. and the worst feature of the situation was the fact that the finger of circumstantial proof pointed directly at the boy. at first, almost overcome with dismay, hal suddenly realized the injustice of the suspicion against him, and stiffening with anger, he blazed forth: "what do you mean, sir? do you mean to say that i stole it?" mr. miles did not answer the question. he merely looked stern and asked another, while a score of boys gathered around, gazing on the two with startled wonder. "can you tell me where you got it?" inquired mr. miles. "yes, sir, i can," hal replied defiantly. "i found it in the cave." "where you found my bag of souvenirs?" "yes, sir." "why didn't you turn it over to me with the bag?" "because i didn't find them at the same time. i found that nugget to-day after we finished the bridge through the waterfall." "why didn't you say something about it? why did you hide it in your pocket and keep still? a boy would naturally become pretty excited on finding a gold nugget." "i didn't hide it in my pocket," was hal's choking reply. "i didn't know what it was and just stuck it in my pocket." "why didn't you throw it away?" "it wasn't like an ordinary stone. it was heavy, and i wanted to look at it in the light." "where are the rest of them?" "what do you mean?" "i mean the other nuggets," said the aviator with continued sternness. "there were six in the bag." for a moment hal's eye blazed with indignation; then his spirit seemed to collapse. the implied charge and the suspicious circumstances were too much for him. "i don't know," he said hoarsely, and with a furtive glance at the boys around him, he walked out of the wash room. hal was late at supper that evening. in fact, there were only a few left at the tables when he entered the dining room. he took a seat at a table alone and ate in moody silence. he felt bitter and wished he could leave the school never to return, although no experience in his life had ever been more pleasant than his three years at lakefarm. this was the second time that suspicion had been directed toward him regarding the disappearance of the aviator's nuggets, and now he could see no possible way of proving his innocence. unluckily, he had had no idea of the real nature of his find until walter hurst pronounced it gold and the owner appeared on the scene and claimed it. after supper he went gloomily to his room and sat down and waited to be summoned to the doctor's office. of course, mr. miles had gone straight to dr. byrd and informed him of the scene in the wash room, and the owner of lakefarm would soon call hal to account. but no call came, and hal soon found himself imagining all sorts of direful explanations of the seeming inactivity. probably the doctor had sent for the town marshal to come and take the nugget-thief to jail. or possibly the owner of the school had decided to have nothing more to do with this bad boy and was even now writing to his father to come and take him away. in a short time hal had worked himself up to a very nervous and unhappy state. then he began to plan wildly how he might escape the undeserved punishment that he saw ahead. "if i could run mr. miles' airship i'd fly away in it," he said bitterly. "and it'd serve him right, too. he didn't have any business to condemn me without a hearing. he might have given me the benefit of the doubt until i'd had a chance to prove i was innocent. but i couldn't prove anything with him looking at me that way." "hello, hal, what's the matter?" pickles, his roommate, interrupted his unhappy reverie with this cheery interrogation as he entered the room. pickles was a quiet little fellow who seldom took anything very seriously and had a habit of stealing on one and surprising him with an unexpected "boo!" hal started visibly on this occasion, much to the glee of pickles. "what's the matter?" repeated the smaller boy as he observed the glum look on hal's face. "nothing," was the half surly reply; "only i'm goin' to run away." "run away! hal! what for?" "don't speak so loud, pick," cautioned hal. "yes, i've really made up my mind. i'm going to-night; and i want you to keep my secret." "oh, hal, you mustn't," pickles gasped under his breath. "what would i do here without you? you're the best friend i've got." kenyon was surprised. he had had no idea that any of his associates regarded him with such affection, and this manifestation moved him not a little. "pickles," he said warmly; "you're a peach of a kid. i've never got mad at you since i first met you, and you've never got mad at me. that's sayin' a whole lot. some kids you've got to get mad at every minute to keep 'em from walking all over you." "bad, for instance." "yes--and no. bad's a bad one unless you know how to handle him. we've always been good friends, and i like him." "so do i, but he's mean sometimes. i like bun better. but what you going to run away for, hal? is it the nugget?" "yes--and mr. miles. he thinks i'm a thief. and so do all the rest." "i don't, hal, if you say you're not," declared the faithful walter. "pickles, you're the best fellow on earth," said kenyon warmly, stepping close and putting both hands on his friend's shoulders. "you almost make me feel like sticking. but i can't." "why not, hal?" "everybody--excepting you--thinks i'm a thief, and i can't prove i'm not. so i'm just going to cut loose. some day i'll come back and prove i'm innocent." "i'm sorry i picked up the nugget, hal. i wish i hadn't told what it was. but i was so surprised i couldn't help it." "that's all right, pick. it wasn't your fault. i don't blame you a bit." "when you goin', hal?" "to-night--just as soon as everybody's asleep." "where you going--home?" "i don't know. maybe; maybe not. anyway, i'll write home and tell mother and father i didn't steal." "let me go with you, hal." "no, pickles, you mustn't think of doing such a thing. you must stay here and tell them all i'm not a thief. oh, pick, it's terrible to be called such a thing. you don't know how i feel about it. your father's rich and mine's poor, but i wouldn't steal if i was starving--any more'n you would. even when i was selling newspapers in denver and making only half or quarter of a cent on each paper, i couldn't think of stealing. i'd run a block to catch a man if i found i'd given him the wrong change. i'll write to dr. byrd and tell him all about it, for i'll have to thank him for what he has done for me." "hal, i'll do anything you want me to, but i'd rather go along. if you'll wait, i'll write to my father and he'll come here and fix everything up for you." "no, it's all settled what i'm going to do," hal answered determinedly. "you stay here, and when i get settled in a job somewhere, i'll write you." "well, it's half an hour till bedtime," said pickles. "i'm going out till then." "don't give me away." "i should say not. you'll be here when i come back?" "yes." walter slipped softly out of the room, as was his custom. in the library he found fes sharer and whispered a few words in his ear. then the two started out on a hunt and soon rounded up bun and bad. the four chums then held a whispered conference out on the lawn. as they separated, pickles said: "remember, in an hour, under the big poplar." half an hour after bedtime, three boys might have been seen to slip out of a window of the dormitory to the ground. it was dark, the stars twinkling sharply in the clear sky. swiftly they sped away from the building, along the edge of the campus and two hundred yards beyond, until they came to a great tall tree, whose abundant branches and foliage hugged close and tapering to the trunk. there they stopped, sat down, with the tree between themselves and the school, and whispered excitedly to each other. ten minutes later another dark form emerged from another window of the dormitory and took a similar course. he carried a bundle under one arm. hardly had he left the shadow of the school buildings and the bordering trees when another youth slipped from the same window and followed him. the three forms under the tree hugged close to the ground as the boy with the bundle passed within twenty feet of them. presently the fifth boy reached the tree and the three forms under it stood erect. "come on," beckoned the last youth, and all four started in pursuit of the one ahead. presently the latter heard a footstep behind and threw a startled look backward. with a half-choked cry of astonishment, he broke into a run and fairly flew along the road that led toward mummy cañon. chapter xvii exploring the cave "hal! oh, hal! stop! this is pickles." hal stopped almost as suddenly as he had started to run. he recognized the cautious cry of his friend and waited for the four to overtake him. "what you kids up to?" he inquired, after scanning the faces of the quartet. "i told you not to come, pickles." "we're not going to run away with you," he replied. "we're just going to walk a ways and then go back." "i'm glad to have you come, but you might get into trouble." "no, we won't," declared frank with something of his old-time boastfulness. "we can get back any time before morning and nobody'll ever see us." "where you going to-night?" inquired ferdinand. "to the cave first." "in the cañon?" "yes, i want to see if there's any more of those nuggets there." "you haven't any light," reminded byron. "no, but i've got some matches." "i know where the lanterns are," frank announced. "they're in the garage, and i can crawl in through the window. let's get them and explore the cave." "yes, let's do," ferdinand said eagerly. "come on, bad. you and i'll go an' get the lanterns, while the rest wait here for us." no objection being offered to this plan, frank and ferdinand made a dash back toward the garage. they were gone about fifteen minutes and returned with four lanterns. then the march toward the cañon was taken up. of course, there was much excited talk on the way. every one of the self-appointed committee that was "seeing hal off" expressed confidence in his integrity and all were highly indignant at mr. miles' suspicions. "he'd better go take a jump in the lake," said byron with unwonted vehemence. "he's got no 'preciation of what you did for him." "yes, if it hadn't been for hal, he'd probably never have got any of his specimens back at all," observed ferdinand. "somebody ought to slip him one," declared frank savagely. "i don't think he meant to be so hard on me," interposed hal charitably. "i was pretty sore at first, but when i saw how bad things looked for me, i wanted to get out. i wouldn't have run away, but i don't believe i could ever prove i wasn't a thief. when you get in a fix like that, the best thing to do is to pack up and move." the interest the boys felt in the cave they were about to explore finally resulted in a change of subject, and hal's troubles were forgotten for the time being. in fact, hal himself forgot much of the bitterness of his woes in the general eagerness of the conversation. arrived at the scene of their construction work in the cañon, they lost no time in crossing the river and hastening up the walk to the waterfall cave. outside the latter they stopped only long enough to light two of the lanterns. the other two they found without oil and set them aside. then they crossed the second bridge into the cave. hal now assumed the leadership. he realized that the expedition was not without danger and felt the responsibility for the safety of his friends to be resting on his own shoulders. his first act, therefore, on entering the cave was to drive the other boys back several feet from the precipice and the roaring waterfall. then he led them beyond the bend in the passage to the farther end of the cave, where the noise of the fall was not so deafening as to prevent conversation. "you kids stay back here and explore this part while i go up in front and see if i can find any more of those nuggets," suggested hal, concealing by his manner his real motive in assigning them well back from the danger point. he knew that if he told them he was afraid they would get too close to the edge and fall over, some or all of them would be determined to hover close to the cataract. hal returned to the mouth of the cave with one of the lanterns. he could not help shuddering a little as he approached the edge of the precipice, and being of practical mind, he soon found himself speculating on a method of making this point more safe for visitors. "there ought to be a fence or high railing along here to prevent people from getting too close and falling in," he told himself. "if dr. byrd wants to invite people to visit this cave, he ought to make it safe. i think i'll suggest this to him--" his soliloquy was interrupted suddenly when he awoke to the fact that he was running away and did not intend to return to the doctor's school. "my, what a fool i am!" he exclaimed. "i think i'm losing my head. really, i wish i wasn't running away. i do hate to go. but--but--i've got to." he flashed his lantern about and began his search for the lost nuggets. he examined the floor and several crevices in the walls for fifteen or twenty minutes, but nothing rewarded his search. how the one nugget he had found got there was as big a mystery as the presence of the bag of souvenirs in the cave had been. finally he gave it up and went back to the farther part of the cave and rejoined the other boys. byron and walter were gazing upward at frank and ferdinand who were climbing up the wall on the right, which inclined like the side of a mountain. fes carried the lantern. "look out, up there; don't fall, or there'll be some broken bones, and maybe necks," warned hal. "we don't want any such accidents to-night." "we're all right; just watch us," answered frank with his usual bravado. "where you going?" inquired hal. "as high as we can," replied ferdinand "come on up. it isn't steep. it's easy climbing. you couldn't fall in the dark." fes and frank were by this time fifty or sixty feet from the floor, and the light of their lantern still revealed no sign of a ceiling, or a converging of the walls overhead. this was rather astonishing, and hal was moved with a desire to take part in the upward exploration. "i'm going up, too," he announced to byron and walter. "it doesn't look steep and it's rough enough to give a good foothold." "let's climb up with 'em, pick," suggested byron.' "all right," answered pickles, suiting the action to the word. in a moment all three were following the two leaders up the almost stair-like ascent. they climbed rapidly, for the success of fes and frank had given them confidence. up, up, they went, hal leading and byron and walter following in respective order. suddenly they were startled by a succession of cries from above. they stopped and looked upward apprehensively, and were surprised to see fes and frank standing on a ledge and looking down upon them. "come on, come on, kids," yelled frank. "we're clear through the roof. it's all open up here." thrilled by this announcement, hal quickened his steps and those behind him did likewise. in a few moments they had climbed up to where the leaders were waiting for them. frank had spoken truly. they were standing on a level spot several yards in diameter; on one side arose a perpendicular wall of the mountain and on the other, far below, they looked down into the deep shadows of mummy cañon. "my! isn't this great!" hal exclaimed enthusiastically. "we're real discoverers. maybe nobody's ever been up here before." "nobody ever tried to climb flathead, they say," byron observed. "i bet nobody ever got as high as this." "i wonder if we couldn't climb higher from here," said fes, scanning the perpendicular wall. "that doesn't look much like it," said pickles with a laugh. "i wish the moon'd come out so we could see farther," said hal. "i hate to come so far as this and stop." with these words, he flashed the rays of his lantern about. at one edge of the wall they found a break that looked like the mouth of a passage, but it was blocked by a large bowlder. "i'm going to climb over it," said hal. "here, fes, give me a boost." fes did as requested. with his lantern in one hand, hal was boosted up to the top of the bowlder, which was about five feet through and perfectly round. "yes, there's a passage here," he announced. "come on over." by a series of boosts, byron, frank, and fes climbed over the big rock, the latter stopping on top of the bowlder to reach assistance to walter. after they had passed this barrier, ferd stopped to examine it more carefully and then said: "let's try to push the rock over a little. it's balanced here on a little neck. maybe we can move it so we won't have to climb over it when we come back." hal had gone on ahead a short distance and paid little attention to this suggestion until he turned his head and saw his four companions with their shoulders to the bowlder. "hey! stop! stop!" he cried out frantically, realizing what would happen if they moved the rock. but his warning was too late. even as he screamed his command, the balanced rock toppled over and rolled heavily down the slight incline right into the mouth of the roof exit of the cave. "oh! if it would only go through!" was hal's wild wish. but it didn't. the runaway sprang past his friends, lantern in hand, and made a hasty examination. the bowlder was wedged fast, effectually blocking their only avenue of escape from the steep-walled mountain. chapter xviii the island in the air for a minute, perhaps, not a word was uttered. the hopelessness of their situation was all too evident to the five boys. no one dared to suggest that the passage from which they had rolled the bowlder would lead to any possibility of escape. "now you have done it!" hal gasped at length. "how in the world are we ever going to get out of this?" nobody answered. there was no reply to make. the situation was too fearful to permit of excuses or shifting responsibility. hal was the only member of the party who did not seem to be paralyzed. he advanced toward the bowlder and flashed his lantern over it. the opening in the rocky cliff was not entirely closed, but the rock was wedged in such a position that it was folly to try to make an exit here. the top of the crevice filled by the big stone converged almost to a point, the rest of the opening, eight or ten feet long and three or four feet wide, being over a sheer drop of thirty feet. there was no possibility of creeping around the bowlder and gaining a footing on the slanting cave wall. "c-can't we break the ground here and make the stone fall down?" suggested ferdinand in chattering accents. "break the ground?" hal replied fiercely. "don't you see we're standing on granite? you could hardly break it with dynamite--and we haven't even a wooden crowbar, to say nothing of a pick. i don't know what we're going to do. we'll starve to death. i guess the only thing we can do is to sit down an' wait till morning," announced hal gloomily as he finished his inspection. "i wonder what time it is." byron looked at his watch and announced that it was nearly midnight. then hal continued: "i don't see that we can do anything before daylight. let's all huddle up close together and go to sleep." this seemed to be the most sensible thing to do. the summer nights in colorado are cool, and the boys found it necessary to huddle together in order to keep warm. of course, they did not go to sleep at once. there were several reasons why it was difficult for them to drift off into slumber. first, they were in trouble, serious trouble; second, their bed was very hard; third, the place was wild, and the noises were strange. then the moon arose, giving the scene a most lonesome appearance. but at last all consciousness left the strange camp, and the next thing the boys knew it was morning. hal awoke first. he suddenly found himself wondering at the hardness of his bed; then, like a flash, the truth came back to him. quietly he arose, gazed a moment at his sleeping companions and then turned toward the blocked exit. another examination of the roof-opening of the cave proved that he had judged rightly. certainly there was no possibility of their escaping this way without a pick or other steel tool. next he turned his attention toward the passage from which the heavy bowlder had been rolled. it seemed almost as if this way must have been cut by the hand of man. it ran with considerable upward incline between the bulk of the mountain and a huge rocky bluff. leaving his companions still asleep, hal started up this pass, which ran a hundred feet through almost solid rock. underfoot it was rough, with rocky projections and bowlders, but the boy passed over it rapidly until he reached the end. here he found himself at the foot of a wooded slope, not so very steep, that ran upward for several hundred feet. "why, i believe we could climb the mountain from this point," he exclaimed half-aloud. "there's a ledge up there that runs right over the mummy, and there's another slope over that and then some rocks. it doesn't look nearly so steep up here. i'm going back and wake the fellows." he hastened back and found byron and walter sitting up and looking around them. remembering his predicament, pickles began to sniffle with fright. this awakened frank and fes. "oh, fellows!" exclaimed hal eagerly, "i've made a wonderful discovery." pickles ceased to cry. "have you found a way down?" inquired ferd. "no, not yet, but maybe we'll find one. but i believe we can climb up to the top." "on top of flathead!" byron exclaimed. "yes, on top of flathead." "what good will that do us?" inquired frank. "that won't help us get down." "i don't know--it may," replied hal hopefully. "anyway, it's better than staying here. we're a long distance from the road, and the bushes growing along the edge here would keep anybody from seeing us. maybe we can throw some stones down and attract somebody's attention over near the pass." this suggestion struck the others as a good one, and they were all ready in an instant to begin the climb. they realized that they would soon be hungry and thirsty and that they must do something soon. so they started without further delay. the ascent up the wooded incline was quickly made and in twenty minutes they were standing on the ledge over the mummy. here they stopped a short while and rested. they looked eagerly along the government road for travelers, but saw none. then they started upward again. after passing through a second belt of timber, the boys found it necessary to follow a winding course, along ledges, around steep places, then up a slope less steep, but rocky. from a distance this ascent appeared much steeper than it proved to be in the climbing, and at no time did the boys feel they were in danger of falling. at last they reached the top. the journey upward had seemed much longer than it really was, for they had had no breakfast. of course they were very hungry, but fortunately they had found a clear spring on the way up and quenched their thirst with deep satisfaction. ordinarily their interest in this newly discovered country--for the top of the mountain seemed almost extensive enough to be termed a country--would have been eager, but under the present circumstances a vastly more important question occupied their minds. they had come up in order to get down, and they now directed their attention to devising a plan. immediately they began an exploration of the mountain top in the hope of finding a way to get down. this flat-top area was fairly regular in circumference and half a mile in diameter. on reaching the highest point of their climb, they rested for half an hour and then started to walk around the edge. their view of the mesa through field-glasses from porcupine hill a few weeks before proved to have afforded them a fairly accurate idea of the top of flathead. the eastern half was covered with a growth of spruce, the western half was rather hilly and craggy, and in the center was a pool of water, occupying a hollow that seemed to be the catch-basin of the whole expanse. the exploration of the plateau was begun at a southeastern point and the boys decided to take a course northward along the eastern edge. this took them through the wooded section. after they had proceeded a quarter of a mile or more they found themselves on a great ledge within a stone's throw, it seemed, of the government road. eagerly they scanned the highway for passing teams, and they were not disappointed. two were approaching from the south and one from the north, the latter just entering the cañon through the northern pass. hal picked up a stone half as big as his fist and hurled it out toward the road. the result was disheartening. he had miscalculated the distance. the stone fell into the river, fifty yards short of the highway. "my goodness!" hal exclaimed. "we can't attract anybody's attention that way." "let's holler," suggested frank. "maybe they can hear us." all joined in a lusty scream, which, too, was disappointing, for they felt instinctively, after it died away, that it had not penetrated far below. none of the travelers seemed to pay any attention to it. if they heard it, they caught no significance in the sound. "we've got to do something else," hal announced desperately. he did his best to appear cheerful, but as he looked into the tired faces of his companions, he felt his heart sink heavily. "let's make some bows and arrows," pickles suggested. "pick, you're a peach!" hal exclaimed. "that's just the thing. we'll tie some notes to arrows and shoot 'em at the people passing." "we'll have to hit them or they probably won't see the arrows," was byron's advice. "i've got a scheme to make 'em hear the arrows," announced hal. "how?" asked fes. "make whistles on the ends." the boys had done this before by way of amusement. all of them were skilled in making whistles of any twig or small limb from which the bark could be removed in the form of a tube. "we haven't got any string to make a bow," frank objected. "yes we have," replied kenyon, holding up his runaway bundle of clothes, around which was wound a liberal supply of fishline. realizing that their situation was desperate, the boys set to work with a will. fes and byron made a bow, while hal and the other two boys began a search for arrow wood. they found a patch of shrubbery that contained an abundance of long straight stems, and they cut a score or more of these and made them into arrows. by this time the bow-makers had produced a good mountain-ash bow with a strong string of several fish-cord strands, and hal and his helpers had three whistle-arrows ready to shriek a novel message through the air. hal now tore several leaves from a notebook, inscribed messages of distress on them and wrapped one around each of the arrows and tied it fast. then he took his stand on the ledge overlooking the road in the cañon, while the other boys, seated on the ground, made more whistle-arrows. presently kenyon fitted an arrow to the bow, and the shaft-makers sprang to their feet to watch the effect of his first shot. the whistle-tipped stem flew with a sharp, piercing sound that thrilled all with hope. eagerly they followed its flight, while the shriek died away and the arrow sped far out and down, just beyond the road and the traveler at whom the shaft was aimed. "i'll attract his attention pretty soon if i can keep on makin' as good shots as that," declared hal as he let fly another arrow. it was impossible to determine whether or not the attention of the driver in the buggy had been attracted by the first two whistling-arrows, but the third certainly had a startling effect. the boys high overhead saw the horse suddenly spring forward and race along the road at a break-neck speed. around a curve he went, the carriage tipping over and spilling its occupant out. the horse tore loose from the harness fastenings and sped madly along the road, past a team coming from the opposite direction, and out through the northern pass. "is he killed?" gasped byron. "no," replied hal, leaning forward eagerly. "see, he's got up and is running after his horse. i hope he finds the arrow and reads the note." "you hit the horse, didn't you?" frank inquired. "i must have, unless it was the whistle that scared him." with feelings of deep disappointment, the boys watched the man run, or walk rapidly, along the road until he disappeared through the pass. meanwhile the work of making more whistle-arrows continued, and several were sent screaming down toward two other teams that had appeared in view. evidently, the attention of the occupants of these carriages was attracted by the strange sound in the air, but none of the note-bearing shafts were discovered by them. for several hours the boys continued at the work, and more than a score of arrows were sent flying down toward passing vehicles. meanwhile, they had become very hungry and thirsty and some of them visited the pool of water, but it was stale and brackish and they could not drink it. by the middle of the afternoon all were thoroughly disheartened, although they continued in their attempts to attract the attention of passers on the road below. finally a new element of expectancy was introduced when fes called attention to a strange looking object in the air two miles to the north. he was very excited when he beheld it, and exclaimed: "look! look! off there! what's that?" all looked eagerly. they were in a mood to hope for help from any improbable source. for several minutes they gazed silently at the moving object, at first believing it to be a huge bird. finally hal electrified his companions by announcing wildly: "it's mr. miles in his new airship!" chapter xix the rescuing airship "how do you know?" "i bet it is!" "do you think he's comin' here?" questions and exclamations such as these came in rapid succession following the announcement from hal that the object flying toward them high in the air was johnson miles' new airship. it was approaching rapidly and seemed to be headed right for the top of flathead. "maybe he knows we're here." pickles made the suggestion, and nobody seemed disposed to take it as a joke. however hal replied: "i don't believe he does. how could he, unless somebody found one of our arrows? we didn't see anybody pick any of 'em up." "maybe he's just hunting for us," suggested fes. "it's more likely he's just taking his first flight," said hal. "i'd feel more hopeful if i knew that was true." "so would i," said byron. "he'd probably fly up here the first place. if he's hunting for us, he won't come here at all unless he knows we're here." "well he's surely makin' for this mountain," hal declared after a few moments of silence. it certainly seemed true. the biplane was flying at an elevation slightly above that of the plateau, and did not waver in its course. "we've got to get busy and make sure that he sees us," hal suddenly exclaimed. "he might fly right over this mountain without stopping unless we attract his attention. take off your coats and wave 'em and make all the noise you can when he gets near." hal set the example and the others followed. soon the five mountain-top crusoes were cutting the wildest capers imaginable and creating a noise with their throats that surely was loud enough to be heard within a hundred yards by the aviator in spite of the vibrations of his propellers. the airship was making remarkable speed and in less than five minutes from the time it was first sighted, johnson miles glided gently down to a level spot not far from where the truant scouts were capering about. they had forgotten their hunger, their tired condition, and their despair. such a jumble of excited questions as followed the alighting of the airship could hardly be represented without a phonographic record. the boys were eager to know how the aviator discovered them--did he know they were on the mountain?--and mr. miles was equally curious to learn how they had come there. finally he said: "boys, i've brought you some food and water. you said you were hungry." that settled it. mr. miles had read one of the notes on the whistle-arrows. naturally, they marveled at this, but hal satisfied himself by concluding that one of the arrows had fallen into one of the vehicles at which he had directed his aim. from the cabin of the airship, the aviator produced a large jug of water and a basket filled with sandwiches and other edibles. eagerly the boys poured the cool liquid down their throats and then pounced upon the contents of the basket. for a while they did nothing but eat and drink, but at last pickles inquired: "how did you know we was here?" "he found one of the arrows," laughed bad. "no, i didn't," replied the aviator. "there! there!" pickles jeered, pointing his finger at frank. "you will know it all, will you?" frank was a little crestfallen, and awaited developments, hoping for an opportunity to vindicate himself. "i didn't find an arrow, but somebody else did," explained the rescuer. "a-ha! what did i tell you?" cried frank. "he didn't find it," walter replied stoutly. "well, what's the difference? i suppose if i said the top of this mountain's flat, you'd say it isn't 'cause there's hills on it." "my, what silly things you boys quarrel over," exclaimed mr. miles. "you're as bad as rival politicians. if you've settled the question i'll proceed. the arrow hit dr. edwards' horse as he was driving through the cañon." "i bet that was the horse that ran away," interrupted byron. "yes, it was," replied mr. miles. "he tipped over the carriage, broke loose and ran back to town. there he was caught and the arrow found sticking in his back. the person who found it took your note to dr. byrd." "was dr. edwards hurt?" inquired hal. "not much. somebody overtook him just outside the cañon and gave him a lift, so he didn't have to walk all the way home." hal's note tied to the arrow contained brief information of their predicament and also that they were hungry and thirsty. it did not, however, contain any details as to how they had been trapped over the waterfall cave and later reached the top of the mountain. hence, they found it necessary to relate their experiences as soon as mr. miles had finished his story. incidentally, the man discovered that hal was running away, but he made no comment on the subject. neither did he refer to the nugget episode, which he suspected to have something to do with the boys' escapade. finally all the food was eaten, all the water was gone, and all the stories were told, and then mr. miles suggested that it was time to return to lakefarm. "how we going to go?" asked ferdinand. "in the airship?" "sure. you boys all wanted a ride in it. now you'll have a chance to prove your nerve." "we can't all ride at once," objected frank. "oh, come now, bad, don't back down," admonished the aviator mischievously. "you know you cried out the loudest that you wouldn't be afraid." "i ain't afraid," protested frank angrily, "but you know there isn't room enough for all of us." "no. i agree with, you, frank. i'll take only one with me on the first trip, and that'll be you." "why me? i don't want to ride alone with you. you'll be busy all the time. i want somebody else to talk with. let pickles go the first trip." "all right. i don't care; only i want to try the ship with one passenger before i take two. pickles, you're not afraid to go first, are you?" "no, i ain't afraid," replied walter, smiling. he seldom became excited or disturbed. doubtless he would have watched the moon shoot across the heavens with no more fear than the average boy feels over a burning house or a runaway horse. "i ain't afraid either," insisted frank, but he did not offer to make the first trip with mr. miles. "all right, you'll have a chance to prove your bravery next time," assured the latter. "come on, pickles, we must hurry, for it's getting late and i've got to make two more trips before sundown. it's after four o'clock now." "you can make 'em all in half an hour, can't you?" inquired hal. "pretty nearly, if everything goes well. but something might happen to delay me." walter and the aviator now got aboard the aeroplane and mr. miles started the engine. the two big propellers turned faster and faster, and the biplane gave a few jerks and tugs, then leaped and bounded forward violently over the uneven ground until the wheels no longer touched the earth. rapidly now she arose in the air, circling around towards the north. in order to insure safety for walter while giving his entire attention to the management of the vessel, miles had closed the front and rear slides, so that they were enclosed in a room, or cabin, twelve feet long, including the tapering forequarter, and five feet wide. the aviator sat at the wheel in the narrow prow, while walter was free to move about as he wished. the four boys left behind gazed eagerly and admiringly at the airship with her invisible occupants for several minutes, not a word escaping the lips of any of them. suddenly frank broke the silence by saying: "say, fellows, maybe we'll never have a chance to come up here again. dr. byrd won't let us come up in the airship, and the passage through the cave's closed. let's explore this mountain top some before mr. miles gets back." "there isn't much to explore," replied ferd. "we can see pretty near everything standing right here." "we can't see the other side of those big rocks and cliffs over there," byron answered, pointing to the south through the thin belt of timber: "that's what we were lookin' at through the field-glasses from uncle sam's mountain, you know." "yes, let's go and have a look at it," proposed hal. there was no need of further urging, and the four boys started off at a brisk rate. through the timber they ran and then southward along the high ridge of rocks and mounds, until they came to a passage through the rocks. into this passage they entered and hastened on until near the middle a new discovery brought them to a halt. "my goodness! look at that!" hal exclaimed thus as he stopped suddenly and pointed toward something very remarkable fifteen feet ahead. it was the opening of a cave in the clay and stone wall, and slightly ajar was a wooden door of rough-hewn tree trunks. "why, somebody lives up here!" cried ferdinand in excited tones. "let's go and see who it is." "no," hal cautioned. "we've got to be careful. if anybody does live here, he's probably crazy. let's pick up some stones to throw at him if he comes at us." the boys all accepted this suggestion and soon they were armed. then they advanced cautiously past the opening in the left wall. they reached the western end of the passage and turned to the right. here they found a much more satisfactory view of the rocky and bluff-lined elevation they had observed through the field-glasses from the top of porcupine hill. in places the elevation rose two hundred feet above the level of the plateau. perhaps at no place was it more than one hundred feet in thickness, but it was seven or eight hundred feet long, constituting by far the biggest mole on the pate of flathead. near the pass the line of cliffs presented an almost perpendicular face to the south, scooped out here and there in the form of overhanging shelters. and in these shelters, twenty or thirty feet from the flathead level were a number of openings, cave-like and fronted with ruined outer structures, that thrilled hal with a realization of an important discovery. but this thrill was quickly replaced by another more intense and immediately important. it was occasioned by the appearance of a live, cat-like form, with burning eyes and crouching, hungry attitude in one of the openings--a panther--and it was looking right down on the boys. chapter xx the panther and the cave exclamations of fear escaped the boys as they saw the threatening attitude of the fierce animal in the cliff cave. hal, who had had recent experience with a similar animal--perhaps the same one--stood his ground and gazed calmly at the mountain lion. but ferdinand and frank were quickly panic-stricken and turned and fled into the passage. byron hesitated a few moments; then the fright of bad and fes proved too much for his nerve, and he turned and followed them as fast as he could run. it would be too much to expect even hal to stand cool and unmoved under such discouraging circumstances. the support of even a physically weak companion would have tended to strengthen his nerve. as it was, he felt an irresistible power pulling him backward, and he, too, turned and raced after the other boy scouts. he expected any moment to hear the panther come hounding after him and to be knocked over by the springing of the heavy body upon his back. in despair he wished he had not lost courage and had stood his ground, but he had no power to turn and await the approach of the animal. it was too late now. his only hope--but was there any hope at all? yes, there was. in the passage was the cave with the rude timber door. the other boys were just entering it. hal reached the entrance just as frank was swinging the door to. fearfully he looked behind, and saw the mountain lion entering the passage in a half hesitating manner. doubtless he had had experience with human beings that taught him the wisdom of dealing cautiously with them. hal stepped inside and pulled the door to; then, finding that it swung easily and fitted the entrance fully, he pushed it open again and stepped outside. the panther had stopped twenty feet away, crouching to spring, yet hesitating as if afraid. it was rather dark in the passage and his eyes blazed like two coals of fire. hal stood ready to spring back into the cave and pull the door to if he should spring. "come on in and shut the door," pleaded frank in trembling tones. byron and fred seconded the request, but hal had good reason for doing otherwise. if he shut himself and his companions in the cave, it would mean a long imprisonment. he would be afraid to open the door again lest he find the panther close to the entrance ready to spring in. meanwhile mr. miles would return and would be unable to find them, and then the mischief would be to pay. hal must remain outside and watch for the airship and scream for help when the aviator landed. "no, i'm going to stay here as long as he don't spring at me," hal replied. "if it's too dark in there and you're afraid, here's some matches." he took several matches from his pocket and held them behind him. byron stepped out gingerly and received them and hastened back into the cave. meanwhile, hal was measuring the distance between him and the puma and wondering if he couldn't do something to make the big cat retreat. "if i'd pick up one of these stones and fire it at him, i wonder what he'd do," he mused. "would he jump at me or would he jump back? maybe i ought to just try to scare him and not hit him. if i hit him, it may make him mad. "no, i guess i'll throw one right at him. i couldn't hit him if i tried. nobody could hit a cat; they're too quick." so he picked up a stone half as large as his fist and threw it with all his force right at the animal. the latter sprang nimbly aside and the stone bounded several yards farther on. encouraged at the failure of the mountain lion to spring at him, hal picked up another stone and hurled it, then another and another and another. the beast sprang aside and backward each time, snarling angrily, but hardly with an accent of courage. hal kept up his attack with more and more vigor, and presently the animal turned and bounded out of the passage. just as he disappeared, hal's three companions came rushing toward him in a manner so startling that the watcher outside chilled with a fear that the panther's mate had been discovered inside. they stopped at the entrance, thus reassuring hal somewhat. but this reassurance was dispelled when he turned and saw their white faces and scared attitudes. "what's the matter?" he inquired, for the moment forgetting the panther. "oh, hal!" gasped frank. "there's a man back there, and he's dead!" "a man! dead!" it was hal's turn to gasp. "yes," replied frank. "we lit some matches and saw him." "there's a gun back there, too," continued fes, and hal interrupted him eagerly. "is that so?" he exclaimed. "bun, you and bad stay here and watch, while fes and i go and have a look. if the panther comes back, holler to me, but don't shut the door unless he comes too close." with these instructions, hal entered the cave, followed by the trembling ferdinand. he struck a match to light his way, and held another to substitute as soon as the first should burn out. the hole in the wall was an ordinary cave, eight feet wide beyond the narrow entrance, six or seven feet from floor to ceiling, and fifteen feet deep. at the farther end, hal discovered evidences that the place had been used as a living room. there was no table and no chair, but he found a lantern, a pine box, a gun, some blankets and several articles of clothing. on the blankets lay the form of a man. his clothes were torn and his face was mangled. evidently he had been attacked by some wild animal, perhaps the mountain lion. the man must have been dead for two or three days. realizing that no more time should be spent in this place, hal picked up the rifle which leaned against the wall, and returned to the entrance. there he examined the weapon, which was a winchester. he pulled down the lever, which opened the chamber and disclosed five cartridges resting in the magazine. at the same time an empty shell flew out, and as he threw back the lever a fresh cartridge slipped into its place. "come on, fellows," said hal, starting for the entrance. "if the panther comes too close, i'll shoot 'im. but i don't think he'll bother us." the boys hastened out of the pass and into the belt of timber. before they reached the open, they discovered the airship resting on the ground and mr. miles looking about him in alarm at the disappearance of the four scouts. "where have you been?" he inquired as they came near. then he added in a tone of astonishment: "and where did you get that gun?" "we've had some adventure, believe me," replied hal, as he stopped and rested the butt of the rifle on a rock. "we've seen a panther and found a dead man in a cave." the aviator was amazed and demanded further details. the boys told their story in a picturesque manner, with many gestures and some slang. the aviator would have been glad to have made a personal investigation, but it was getting so late that he decided it best not to delay. so he said: "we've got to get a move on us, or we'll find ourselves making a trip through the air in the dark. come on, now. who's going on the next trip?" frank and ferdinand got aboard, and the ship again jerked and bounded over the rough ground, then arose and circled toward the school. hal and byron remained, with the gun for protection in case the mountain lion should appear again. but little fear was felt from that source after the experience they had had with the animal. "i bet it's the same panther we met over on porcupine," declared byron soon after they were left alone. "i bet it is too," replied hal. in a short time after they saw the airship glide down onto the campus, it arose again, and in ten minutes it alighted on flathead once more. then hal and byron got aboard and experienced their first thrills as aerial passengers. it was not nearly so sensational as they had expected, however. indeed, it was hardly more thrilling than going up in an elevator, for they were shut in on all sides and could look out only through the windows, and this proved not much different from gazing out of a window of a sky-scraper in the city. chapter xxi to flathead by airship again. dr. byrd said little to the boys that evening. he greeted them quietly, but not severely, as they arrived, looked them over to see that they were sound and unhurt by exposure, hustled them to the bath and later to supper, and then sent them to bed. the boys wondered a little over this. naturally, they all expected to be called on the carpet, lectured, and then punished. but the doctor's tone of voice was almost reassuring. he suspected that they had been punished enough and that if a boy won't think after such an experience, there isn't much hope for him. he understood the motive that had caused hal to run away, as well as the sentiments that had moved the other boys to accompany him. next morning, however, dr. byrd called the five truants into his office. he asked them to be seated, and then turned to his desk, at which he busied himself ten or fifteen minutes. at the end of this period mr. miles entered and took a seat near the doctor, who now wheeled around in his chair and gave attention to his callers. "well, boys," he said slowly, wiping his glasses with his handkerchief, "what do you think of yourselves? are you proud of what you have done, or do you agree that such an escapade deserves something of a reckoning?" he added as he squinted with one eye through one of the lenses to see if it was clear. each of the boys waited for one of the others to answer. as the doctor had addressed none of them individually, now was a good opportunity for them to maintain the silence so often urged upon the young in the presence of older persons. "i see you're not very proud of what you've done," continued the doctor. "and i'm not particularly proud of you either, although you conducted yourselves well after you found yourselves in a bad fix, i understand. why did you decide to run away, hal?" kenyon hung his head. then he stole a glance at the aviator, who reassured him with a kindly look. "mr. miles thought i was a thief, and i couldn't prove i wasn't," hal answered. "you found a nugget in the cave, did you?" "yes, but i didn't know what it was till i dropped it in the wash room. i hunted for the others in the cave night before last, but couldn't find any more." "well, mr. miles tells me he has decided that you are honest. he believes your story after being with you and talking with you on the mountain. but don't you think you made a mistake by running away? shouldn't you have remained here and faced the music?" "maybe i should," hal replied dubiously. "but i don't see how i could have proved i was innocent." "well," concluded the doctor slowly, "i've decided you ought not to be punished; only i want to give you this advice: don't ever run away from unjust suspicion and don't do anything that will make you liable to just suspicion. as to you other boys, there is no excuse for your running away." "we didn't mean to run away," broke in pickles. "we were just going a ways with hal and then come back before morning. but we got caught." "is that true?" inquired the doctor, addressing the other boys. "yes, it is," came the reply in chorus. "well!" exclaimed the owner of lakefarm. "it came near being a pretty serious trap, didn't it? i'll take the matter under advisement and decide later what i'll do. meanwhile, there is a more important matter to be looked after. how would you boys like to visit the top of flathead again?" "in the airship?" inquired byron eagerly. "that's the only way to get up there, now that the passage through the roof of the cave is closed." all the boys were overjoyed at the prospect. "we are going to visit the cave where you found the dead body of a man," continued dr. byrd. "i have notified the coroner and he has expressed the desire to have you all present when he takes the body away. it won't be necessary, but i've decided to let you go if you wish to. i am going myself. i have full confidence in the safety of mr. miles' airship." "when are we going?" hal inquired. "as soon as the coroner gets here--half an hour. now go and get ready for the trip, if you've decided you want to go." the five scouts left the doctor's office and went to their rooms. they doffed their class-room clothes and shoes and substituted their coarse, strong mountain-climbing suits and heavy-nailed footgear. then they hastened out onto the campus, where they found mr. miles getting the airship ready to fly. most of the other boys of the school were gathered around the aeroplane, watching proceedings with interest. of course the five returned truants were the objects of much interest and questioning when they appeared. the other boys all knew in a general way what had happened to their runaway associates, and they were now hungry for details. but the arrival of the coroner and the announcement that the boy explorers of flathead were about to make another trip through the air added a new excitement and so much confusion that there was little opportunity for anybody to gain any information. coroner huffman and pickles made the first trip with mr. miles to the top of the mountain. this official, who lived in jimtown, was a great hunter. he had held one and another political office for fifteen years and celebrated each election by going off into the mountains to shoot big game. on this occasion, he had his rifle with him, hoping to get a shot at the mountain lion that kenyon and his companions had seen the day before. while the first trip was being made, hal, frank, byron, and ferdinand were surrounded by their eager schoolmates and plied with numerous questions. then the doctor, in order to simplify matters, asked everybody to keep still and suggested that hal tell the story from beginning to end. so kenyon told the story of their adventure in detail. before he had finished, the aeroplane returned and started on another trip, with byron, frank, and ferdinand as passengers. the aviator had decided that, since the airship was built to carry three men including the operator, it ought to carry one man and three boys at once. the experiment proved that he was right. by the time mr. miles returned for the doctor and hal, the latter had satisfied the curiosity of his schoolmates. some of them begged for permission to make the trip also, but dr. byrd said that since it would be impossible to take all, he must limit his permission to those whom the coroner had asked to be present at the removal of the body from the mountain-top cave. finally, the entire party of eight men and boys was conveyed to the flathead plateau. the landing place chosen this time was a level and comparatively smooth spot west of the patch of timber and east of the pool. hal, with the permission of dr. byrd, had brought with him the rifle that had been found in the cave. he, too, hoped to see the mountain lion again and get a shot at it. as they approached the landing place he examined closely the ruins of the homes of the cliff dwellers, where they had seen the panther on the day before, but it was no longer there. "wasn't that a funny place for cliff dwellers to build their homes?" hal inquired as they were descending to the plateau. "yes, it is," replied the doctor. "i can't account for their going up so high, unless there was unusual need of defense against some of their war-like neighbors." "how do you suppose they got up here?" asked the boy. "the same way you did probably--behind the waterfall. i imagine they were afraid to trust that secret passage alone to protect them against their enemies, so they made their homes high up in these cliffs as a second precaution." "let's go up in some of those caves before we go back," hal proposed. "i am planning to make as thorough an exploration of this plateau as possible to-day," the doctor replied. "but first we must investigate the death of this man whose body you found." the other members of the party were awaiting the arrival of the last airship-load of passengers, as the coroner desired the presence of all the original witnesses when he removed the body. after all had been landed on the top of the mountain, no further delay was necessary, and they proceeded directly to the cave in the passage through the long ridge. two lanterns had been brought along, and with the aid of these the coroner made a careful inspection of the cave. he asked numerous questions in order to determine if the boys had destroyed or disarranged any clews that might lead to a clearing up of the mystery surrounding this strange life and death on the mountain top. meanwhile, not an article of the contents of the cave was moved until the careful examination was finished. mr. huffman even caused hal to lean his gun against the wall as nearly as it had been found as possible. then he and the doctor picked up the body and carried it out to the open to give it a thorough examination. there seemed to be no doubt that he had been slain by a wild beast. the body was badly mangled, particularly the upper part and the head. the clothes about the chest were ripped in shreds, indicating the savage nature of the slayer. but the clothing proved to be of good quality, indicating that their owner had not been a tramp. "i bet he was a robber hiding from the police," hal declared as the coroner began to search the dead man's pockets. the next instant the official drew forth several envelopes and pieces of paper and began to examine them. suddenly dr. byrd, who was watching this inspection closely, leaned forward and snatched an envelope from the coroner's hand. "great heavens!" he exclaimed. "this is maxwell, the instructor who stole my most valuable gems." chapter xxii clearing hal with nervous haste, dr. byrd took a piece of folded paper from the envelope and examined it. the letter was short and had to do with a purchase from a mail order house. it was addressed to rodney maxwell, boulder, colorado, care of the miners & merchants' bank. "so that's where he was," the doctor muttered, half to himself. "the last i heard of him he was in denver." coroner huffman, meanwhile, was examining the other envelopes. suddenly, he looked up at the doctor and said: "i think i can give you some interesting information. this miners & merchants' bank was robbed two or three months ago and the police are looking for this fellow maxwell. he was a teller there, i believe." "you don't say!" exclaimed the owner of lakefarm. "it's singular that i didn't see it in the papers." "the story was printed all right. you probably read only the headlines and missed his name. you don't read the newspapers the way we politicians do. maxwell got away with thirty thousand dollars." "i bet the money's in the cave," hal ventured eagerly. it was a natural suspicion, and they hastened the search through the pockets of the dead man's clothing. but nothing more was discovered and the party returned into the cave. "let's take everything outside and continue our examination in the sunlight," the doctor proposed. "good suggestion," said the coroner, picking up the box and starting for the entrance. dr. byrd rolled up several blankets, tucked them under his arm and followed mr. huffman. the lifting of one of the blankets disclosed several cooking utensils, a bag of salt and half a dozen empty fruit cans. all these and other articles the boys picked up and carried outside beyond the western end of the passage and placed them on the ground. first, the contents of the box were examined, and they proved to be of great interest. on top were two books, then several newspapers and magazines. next appeared several boxes of matches, two or three hundred cartridges, also in boxes, some collars, neckties and handkerchiefs; two shirts, and finally a small satchel, packed full and heavy. eagerly the coroner seized the latter and attempted to open it. but the clasp resisted his efforts. it was locked. remembering a bunch of keys he had found in one of maxwell's pockets, the coroner produced it and tried several in the lock. the fourth fitted and turned easily, and the satchel fell open. exclamations of eagerness and satisfaction burst from the lips of the onlookers. the object of their search was found. the little valise was full of paper money, assorted in denominations and done up in small packages with strips of paper pinned around them. on each binding strip was written with pencil some figures representing the amount contained in the package. these made the counting of the money easy. in the bottom of the satchel was more than a thousand dollars in gold coins, the counting of which required more time than the totaling of all the assorted certificates and notes. the coroner made an itemized list of these packages and coins according to denominations and amounts. on footing them, he found that the total was $ , . the official now drew up a certificate of their discovery at the foot of the itemized list, and, at his request, they all signed it. then he packed the money back in the valise, with the statement and certificate on top, and snapped the latch and locked it. "there, that's all done," mr. huffman announced. "what else have we here?" boys and men now began to overhaul the other personal effects of the slain robber. they shook out the blankets, inspected the empty fruit cans, looked into the cooking utensils and pushed their hands or fingers into the pockets of the two extra suits of clothing. in one of these pockets, dr. byrd found a small metal box about twice the thickness of an ordinary pocket match-safe. with more curiosity than eagerness, he attempted to open the box, but it resisted his efforts. mr. huffman, observing what he had found, held out his hand saying: "let me try it. i've had a good deal of experience breaking secrets." dr. byrd gave him the box, and the coroner turned it over several times in an effort to find a clasp or catch. presently he discovered a tiny button at one end and pressed on it with his thumb nail, but with no result. after considerable manipulation he finally solved the secret by pressing both sides with thumb and fingers of one hand while he "picked" the button with the other thumb nail. now was the time for a few more gasps of surprise. and they came. dr. byrd's right hand shot forward like a "jack-in-the-box" let loose, to seize the object of interest. the coroner, however, held on with both hands to prevent the eager doctor from spilling the sparkling contents. "those are mine!" exclaimed the lakefarm owner. "those are the rubies and diamonds maxwell stole from my collection over two years ago." "whew!" exploded mr. huffman. "this sure is a day of discoveries." "it's a week of discoveries, it's a month of discoveries, it's a whole summer of discoveries for lakefarm and mummy cañon," declared dr. byrd with excusable excitement. "i tell you, this has been a history making season for colorado and even the united states. think of what has happened here this summer! why it's simply stupendous. when this cañon becomes a popular summer resort it will have a most interesting history for advertising purposes." "yes, you're right," agreed mr. huffman. "and these runaway boys have done about all of it, haven't they?" he added with a mischievous look at the five young scouts standing around and eagerly listening to the conversation. "well, i don't know but you're right," admitted the doctor slowly. "kenyon discovered the cave behind the waterfall, and all of them took a part in the discoveries that followed. in fact, i think every one of their names should be given to some point or feature of interest on this mountain." "let's call the cave behind the waterfall kenyon cave," proposed byron. "that's a bright idea," declared the doctor. "it sounds well. what shall we call the waterfall itself?" "the screaming cataract," frank proposed with a little reminiscent shudder and a grin. "good again!" dr. byrd exclaimed. "and that cliff where we stood when we shot the arrows into the cañon--let's call that whistling arrow point," suggested ferdinand. "keep it up, boys, and you'll soon have everything well named," said the coroner with appreciative cheeriness. just then all were startled by an interruption from mr. miles who had been busy while the others were exclaiming over the discovery of the money and the gems. in one hand he held a coat and in the other several objects the size of small potatoes which he had drawn from one of the pockets. the objects were of a soiled yellow. "i've found my nuggets! i've found my nuggets!" cried the aviator gleefully. "hal, you're fully exonerated now, and the mystery of the bag of specimens in the cave is solved. maxwell found them in the cañon, took them behind the waterfall, picked out the nuggets, left the bag in the cave and accidentally dropped one of the lumps of gold!" before the excitement of this discovery was over, another thriller was added to the rapid succession of events. suddenly from the very cave in which they had seen the mountain lion on the day before, issued a dark object, which bounded down an incline of stones and earth and sped with swift leaps past the aeroplane and off toward the edge of the mountain-top plateau. chapter xxiii the boy scouts of the air. coroner huffman was quickest to act. his rifle was leaning against a rock near by, and he snatched it up and took two shots at the flying animal before it disappeared. apparently the panther was not hit. but mr. miles was scarcely less active. like a sprinter, he started for his airship, twenty yards away, calling out: "come on, a couple of you. we'll chase him. bring the guns." there was a general race toward the aeroplane. the aviator leaped aboard and busied himself rapidly with the motor. as the rest lined up before the machine, dr. byrd said: "coroner, you and hal get aboard. you have guns." this being a logical suggestion, it was adopted by the two mentioned. they climbed into the cabin, the wicket was closed, and almost instantly came the chug-chug of the engine and the great fan propellers began to revolve. a deep quiver, a few spasmodic jerks, and the airship started forward, bumped over the uneven ground, and rose into the air. the front and rear of the cabin were open except for the aluminum-bar inclosures, and hal looked back and waved his hand at the doctor and the other boys, who were executing various capers and cheering lustily. the next instant almost, the airship passed beyond the edge of the plateau, and pilot and passengers directed their vision to a search for the mountain lion. mr. miles called their attention to a port in the floor of the cabin and advised them to make use of that, as well as of the ports in the sides and the open front and rear. mr. huffman slid back a cover of the floor opening, two feet in diameter and protected with aluminum bars. then they began an inspection of the mountain side as the ship circled around and around as close to the tree tops as was deemed safe. they were not long in finding the fleeing animal. he was leaping with long easy bounds, down the steep and craggy slope--too steep and irregular for a man to climb or descend. the aviator steered the air craft right over him, and the coroner drew a bead on the cat through the floor port. with the discharge of the gun, hal looked eagerly at the beast, expecting to see him tumble over, but he was disappointed. "blast the luck!" muttered the coroner, who was ordinarily a good shot. "i don't believe i can hit him from the moving airship." "let me try it," hal shouted above the noise of the propellers, having read the meaning of the expression on the face of his companion. the latter moved aside and the boy thrust the muzzle of his gun through the opening. taking careful aim, he pulled the trigger, but with no better success. even as the gun was discharged, he felt the difficulty of their hunt. to shoot a rapidly moving animal from a rapidly moving airship is no easy task. hal's shot, however, seemed to be the signal for an altering of the course of the fleeing panther. the latter evidently saw the source of his danger, and turned suddenly to the left and bounded over crags and through patches of fir and spruce to the southern side of the mountain. the pursuers flew after him, firing at the moving target every now and then. finally the beast landed on the ledge of the "mummy" from which the cañon took its name. there he halted a moment, looking upward at his flying enemy. another shot from hal's rifle caused him to leap so suddenly that the boy believed he had hit him; but if so, the animal was not seriously injured. he bounded on, down the very course by which the boys had ascended the mountain. finally he stopped and gazed in a puzzled manner at the boulder that blocked his entrance through the roof of kenyon cave behind the screaming cataract, as recently named. he stuck his head through the fissure beside the bowlder and seemed about to leap when coroner huffman fired again. possibly he was hit; at any rate, he drew his head back and bounded along the steep side of the mountain to the left. several rods he sprang in this direction; then down, down he went with wonderful swiftness and agility, until he reached the new railing-bordered walk between flathead and the river. this seemed to puzzle him a little, but he hesitated only a moment. then the occupants of the airship were astonished to see the animal bound along the walk, over the waterfall bridge and behind the cataract. quickly the coroner stepped close to the aviator and shouted: "fly back to the top of the mountain. we've got to have some lanterns." miles caught the significance of the suggestion and in a very short time the airship had circled upward and over flathead and alighted near the other boys and dr. byrd. the purpose of their return was quickly explained, the lanterns were taken aboard, and away they flew again. in a few minutes they landed near the head of the rapids in mummy cañon and then proceeded to cross the first bridge and advance up the walk, with lighted lanterns, toward the screaming cataract. mr. miles was stationed outside with hal's gun, to shoot the animal if he should spring past the other two, who crossed the second bridge into the cave. each of the latter carried a lantern and they advanced carefully, flashing their lights as far ahead as possible. around the elbow of the cave they proceeded without catching sight of their quarry. even in the farther chamber they were somewhat puzzled until by flashing their lights over the sloping wall, they perceived two shining eyes high up near the bowlder that choked the upper exit. mr. huffman set his lantern down and put the stock of his gun to his shoulder. but even as he sighted along the barrel, the gleaming eyes had disappeared. "look out!" yelled hal. a horrible screech came from the blank darkness. huffman raised his rifle and fired in the direction of the sound. the thundering report of the gun almost deafened them, but shrill above even that came a second scream. the next instant hal felt a big body catch him between the legs. down he went, his lantern flying from his hand and shattering against the rocky wall. when he rose to his feet it was to see mr. huffman, lantern in hand, careering over the rock-strewn floor toward the mouth of the cave. "look out there, miles!" he yelled as he ran. hal scrambled his way out as well as he could in the dark, expecting every second to hear the report of mr. miles' rifle. instead he heard a shout and then a cry of pain. as he came to the cave entrance he saw the cause. mr. miles had been taken unawares. the lion had come hurtling at him at too close range for him to use the rifle. blinded perhaps by the sudden glare of daylight, the animal had charged full at him, and down miles had gone. there he lay at the very edge of the bridge, clutching at the railing with one hand, and holding the other over his stomach. "i wouldn't mind, if he'd hit me anywhere else," he gasped, in mingled pain and laughter. "where's your gun?" asked mr. huffman suddenly. "where's the lion?" miles asked in return. "do you think he swallowed it?" asked hal with a chuckle. at that they all gave way, as both hal and the coroner had been aching to do, so comical was mr. miles' pain-drawn face. "i'm afraid it must have been knocked over the falls," mr. miles managed at last to suggest. "he hit me pretty hard, and my game leg isn't any too strong--especially when the pesky animal tried football on me." the gun was undoubtedly gone, and it must have fallen into the water. "we'll have to come back and dive for it," added hal with a sigh, for in a way he looked upon the rifle as his own. "that'll be fun for us scouts." "i hate to have that lion get away," said the coroner regretfully; "but i suppose we might as well go back." "suppose i take you two to lakefarm and then go back from there for the rest," said miles as they walked back toward the aeroplane. "it will save time." so it was decided, and the two were soon dropped at lakefarm, where they were awaited by an eager crowd of boys. then mr. miles whirred back toward the top of flathead, soon to return with his first load. on the last trip he brought back the body of the dead maxwell and dr. byrd. "well, boys, we've had a pretty strenuous day--or days. i think that the boy scouts of the air deserve a little holiday." "the boy scouts _of the air_?" asked one of the waiting group. "yes, the boy scouts of the air, of flathead mountain, with a membership of five." "oh!" came a disappointed murmur from the rest. "but i think we'll make the holiday general, and maybe the air patrol can enroll some new members. so to-morrow we'll just scatter and enjoy ourselves our own way." the shout that went up left no doubt that the decision was popular. "three cheers for the boy scouts of the air!" came from a score of throats as the doctor turned to go in. "rah for doctor byrd!" came from the five boy scouts of the air in return. chapter xxiv mountain lion bridge "how you going to spend your holiday?" asked bad of hal the next morning when the two chanced to meet on the campus. "sh! not so loud," was the reply. "i'm going to explore kenyon cave." "but the doctor--" "he said we could do as we pleased to-day. i'm going to see if i can't get that gun again." "and hunt the lion? but it's under the falls." "i don't think it is. that lion hit mr. miles hard enough to knock him down. that gun must have gone a-flying. maybe it dropped in shallow water. and the biggest part of the falls is on the other side anyway. i'll chance it." "and we could take some grapple hooks--" "we?" asked hal. "sure. i'm going along. suppose that lion'd show up--" "yes, suppose. what'd you do? save my life by running away and getting the cat to follow you?" "never mind. you ran from it yourself the other day. you just watch me when we find it again. i'll--" "clout it in the jaw?" laughed hal. "i know where there's grapple hooks," bad suggested. "i'll get them." and away he went, to return in a few minutes with a tangled mass of cords and hooks stuffed under his coat. "ready to go now?" "soon as i get a lantern. i hid one inside the hollow elm next to the road. come on." so the two started out on their three-mile trudge, stopping to pick up the lantern and a lunch that was likewise hidden within the tree. "divvies," said hal generously as he shoved this into his pocket. it was not long before mummy cañon was in sight. they crossed the bridge and made their way slowly along the path toward the screaming cataract. just before they came to the bridge they stopped. bad sat down and began to pull off his shoes and stockings, but hal merely stood looking at the water, that was boiling and foaming even along the shore. "it can't be very deep in there this side the falls," he observed. "the gun could easy have fallen right in next to shore. of course it could have gone the other way, but that ain't likely, as the lion hit miles in this direction. if it did go toward the middle we'll never get it--unless we happen to grapple it." "what you going to do? try to grapple it first or dive?" "or wade if it isn't too deep. but first of all i'm going to take a look inside the cave. i want to see if that rock is wedged in hard like it looked from above." "what for? suppose the lion's in there!" hal laughed. "he got too good a scare in there yesterday to come back right away." "but why not find the gun first? what good'll it do you if the rock isn't tight. come on, i'm going in." and bad continued taking off his clothes. "no, i'll cool off first. you go ahead. i'll go up on the bridge and show you where the gun most likely fell." he gathered a handful of small stones and standing on the bridge, began to throw them into the water, marking off a small circle that extended from the edge of the falls to the shore. "it ought to be inside that." "all right. here goes," called bad as he began wading away from the bank. "u-u-gh! it's cold. so deep," he added, ducking himself under to the chin, pretending he had found a step-off--to come up to his waist a minute later. "call me if you find it," hal said, after lighting his lantern with a match, boy scout style being too slow just then. "i'll be with you in a few minutes." he disappeared within the cave, and bad continued wading out toward the edge of the fall, feeling for the gun with his toes. this was an easy matter, as the bottom was a firm sort of sand-mud, smooth and gently sloping. the water deepened till it was up to his neck, but that was all. out under the falls it was doubtless many times deeper, but here the thin trickle from above had not worn any hole. "i guess i'll cut in toward the bridge," he said to himself, "and then work over along the bank." as he came under the bridge he stood there a moment, holding to one of the timbers, for at this point the undertow from the falls was rather strong. as he stood there his mischievous spirit prompted him to play a trick on hal. wouldn't it be a lark to climb up under the bridge and stretch himself out along the timbers and wait there for hal? what would he think when he came out and found no bad in the water? he had laughed at bad's scare when the plank tipped, that night when kenyon cave was discovered. here was a good chance to get even. so bad wormed himself up one of the posts, and after a good deal of squirming found himself a firm and fairly comfortable resting place where two bracing timbers formed a v-shaped bed. right above him was a large knothole, within a few inches of his eyes. he lay there and waited some time, his only view the tumbling water just beneath, and above, a knothole sight of the cliff and a patch of blue sky. once he was tempted to call, but waited. then, above him, on the boards of the bridge, he heard a quiet footfall. it sounded like bare feet; perhaps that was why hal had been so long--he had stopped to undress. the footfalls ceased. bad fancied he heard a curious sniffing noise, that kept up till it got on his nerves. what could hal be doing that would make such a funny noise! bad tried to look through the knothole. only blue sky and gray cliff could be seen. but still that sniff-sniff kept up. putting his mouth to the knothole, he drew in his breath and then "wow!" he shouted. but the answer was not what he expected. a low snarl came in reply, and the snarl was too animal-like to have come from hal. bad almost fell from his perch in his sudden fright. again he put his eye to the hole, but jerked back with a scream. a cold, damp something had touched his face, and that something he knew instinctively was the muzzle of an animal. perhaps it was this thought that made him lose his balance. at any rate, almost before he realized it, he had toppled out of his seat and into the water. for an instant he floundered, then struck out, under water, to get as far away as he could. he did not stop to reason that the animal, whatever it was, would hardly attack him in the water; he merely wanted to get away. then suddenly he stopped and came to his feet. his hand had struck something solid. it felt not unlike the branch of a tree or a stick--or a rifle barrel. it was standing straight up in the water. for a second he groped about, then struck it again. with a feeling of triumph he grasped it and gave a tug that freed it from the mud. it was the rifle. then he looked toward the bridge. there, its teeth bared in a snarl, was the mountain lion of the day before. it was not crouched, but stood there, its head going from side to side in an impatient shake, its tail beating the bridge floor angrily. but for an instant only it remained so. with an alert turn of the head it directed its attention to the cave. it had heard something. bad heard the same sound; it was hal coming out, and bad stood as if paralyzed. "stay in the cave!" he yelled, suddenly regaining command of his voice. "i'm coming," came the indistinct reply. "did you find the gun?" "stay in the cave! the lion's on the bridge!" "i can't understand you." bad had difficulty in hearing the words, broken by the irregularity of the passage and drowned by the noise of the falls. "i'm coming fast as i can--my lantern's out." "oh-h--" groaned bad, "what shall i do? don't come out!" he shrieked again. there was no reply. the lion had not stirred, crouching expectantly at the opening. when hal appeared, it would spring--and bad shuddered at the thought. but the gun! suddenly he remembered that. he looked at the breech; it was unrusted. he threw a shell into place; then he thought of the barrel. one glance told him it was choked with mud. what could he do? he remembered hearing of a gun that had burst because there was mud in the end of the barrel. true, that was a shotgun. dared he risk it? he brought the gun to his shoulder--then hesitated. bad was no coward, but he knew the risk. "hal!" he yelled for the last time. there was no reply, but the click of footsteps and a loud "ouch!" told him his call had done no good. he saw the lion crouch still lower, the leg muscles tightened, and then--bang! bad had shut his eyes as he pulled the trigger. furthermore, he had not held the rifle very tight to his shoulder; he picked himself out of the water and gave a frightened look toward the bridge. the lion was still there but no longer crouching. he was whirling round and round, a struggling bundle of rage and scratching claws. his savage whines sent the cold chills up and down bad's back. coming too close to the edge of the bridge, the lion rolled off--and bad hastily scrambled his way toward the bank. "hello!" called hal, appearing just then in the cave entrance. "what's up, bad?" "nothing," said bad limply. "nothing? is that what makes you look so sick? what you been doing with the gun?" "nothing." then he added slyly but shakily: "i just clouted mr. lion in the jaw." "the lion! was it you that shot? where is he?" came in rapid succession. "i believe he went downstairs there to get a drink," laughed bad, his voice and legs getting stronger. "if you'll help me to fish him out, we'll lug him back to lakefarm, and s'prise the natives." and that was certainly what they did, as, a couple of hours later, they arrived, fagged out but proud, at lakefarm institute and dropped their trophy at the feet of mr. byrd, who, with mr. frankland and mr. miles and mr. porter, as well as all the boy scouts, was waiting to receive them. "and who shot him?" asked dr. byrd, after the slain beast had been inspected and admired to the full expectations of the two heroes. "it was frank," hal replied. "not _bad_?" asked dr. byrd, quite seriously. "no--frank. bad has made _good_, and he's been promoted. from now on he's frank." https://archive.org/details/firstmancarrying zahm the first man-carrying aeroplane capable of sustained free flight: langley's success as a pioneer in aviation by a. f. zahm, ph. d. from the smithsonian report for , pages - (with plates) [illustration] (publication ) washington government printing office the first man-carrying aeroplane capable of sustained free flight--langley's success as a pioneer in aviation. by a. f. zahm, ph. d. [with plates.] it is doubtful whether any person of the present generation will be able to appraise correctly the contributions thus far made to the development of the practical flying machine. the aeroplane as it stands to-day is the creation not of any one man, but rather of three generations of men. it was the invention of the nineteenth century; it will be the fruition, if not the perfection, of the twentieth century. during the long decades succeeding the time of sir george cayley, builder of aerial gliders and sagacious exponent of the laws of flight, continuous progress has been made in every department of theoretical and practical aviation--progress in accumulating the data of aeromechanics, in discovering the principles of this science, in improving the instruments of aerotechnic research, in devising the organs and perfecting the structural details of the present-day dynamic flying machine. from time to time numerous aerial craftsmen have flourished in the world's eye, only to pass presently into comparative obscurity, while others too neglected or too poorly appreciated in their own day subsequently have risen to high estimation and permanent honor in the minds of men. something of this latter fortune was fated to the late secretary of the smithsonian institution. for a decade and a half dr. langley had toiled unremittingly to build up the basic science of mechanical flight, and finally to apply it to practical use. he had made numerous model aeroplanes propelled by various agencies--by india rubber, by steam, by gasoline--all operative and inherently stable. then with great confidence he had constructed for the war department a man flier which was the duplicate, on a fourfold scale, of his successful gasoline model. but on that luckless day in december, , when he expected to inaugurate the era of substantial aviation, an untoward accident to his launching gear badly crippled his carefully and adequately designed machine. the aeroplane was repaired, but not again tested until the spring of --seven years after langley's death. such an accident, occurring now, would be regarded as a passing mishap; but at that time it seemed to most people to demonstrate the futility of all aviation experiments. the press overwhelmed the inventor with ridicule; the great scientist himself referred to the accident as having frustrated the best work of his life. although he felt confident of the final success of his experiments, further financial support was not granted and he was forced to suspend operations. scarcely could he anticipate that a decade later, in a far away little hamlet, workmen who had never known him would with keenest enthusiasm rehabilitate that same tandem monoplane, and launch it again and again in successful flight, and that afterwards in the national capital it should be assigned the place of honor among the pioneer vehicles of the air. when in march, , mr. glenn h. curtiss was invited to send a flying boat to washington to participate in celebrating "langley day,"[ ] he replied, "i would like to put the langley aeroplane itself in the air." learning of this remark secretary walcott, of the smithsonian institution, soon authorized mr. curtiss to recanvas the original langley aeroplane and launch it either under its own propulsive power or with a more recent engine and propeller. early in april, therefore, the machine was taken from the langley laboratory and shipped in a box car to the curtiss aviation field, beside lake keuka, hammondsport, n. y. in the following month it was ready for its first trial since the unfortunate accident of . [ ] may , the anniversary of the famous flight of langley's steam model aeroplane in , is known in washington as "langley day," and has been celebrated with aerial maneuvers over land and water. the main objects of these renewed trials were, first, to show whether the original langley machine was capable of sustained free flight with a pilot, and, secondly, to determine more fully the advantages of the tandem type of aeroplane. the work seemed a proper part of the general program of experiments planned for the recently reopened langley aerodynamical laboratory. it was, indeed, for just such experimentation that the aeroplane had been given to the smithsonian institution by the war department, at whose expense it had been developed and brought to completion prior to . after some successful flights at hammondsport the famous craft could, at the discretion of the smithsonian institution, either be preserved for exhibition or used for further scientific study. to achieve the two main objects above mentioned, the aeroplane would first be flown as nearly as possible in its original condition, then with such modifications as might seem desirable for technical or other reasons. various ways of launching were considered. in the langley aeroplane was launched from the top of a houseboat. a car supporting it and drawn by lengthy spiral springs ran swiftly along a track, then suddenly dropped away, leaving the craft afloat in midair with its propellers whirring and its pilot supplementing, with manual control, if need be, the automatic stability of the machine. this method of launching, as shown by subsequent experimentalists, is a practical one and was favorably entertained by mr. curtiss. he also thought of starting from the ground with wheels, from the ice with skates, from the water with floats. having at hand neither a first rate smooth field nor a sheet of ice, he chose to start from the water. [illustration: smithsonian report, .--zahm. plate . langley aeroplane (built - ) ready for launching at hammondsport, n. y., may , .] [illustration: smithsonian report, .--zahm. plate . langley aeroplane just rising from water, june , , piloted by curtiss.] [illustration: flight of langley aeroplane with its own power plant over lake keuka, june , , piloted by curtiss.] [illustration: smithsonian report, .--zahm. plate . curtiss -horsepower motor and tractor screw mounted on langley aeroplane.] [illustration: smithsonian report, .--zahm. plate . elwood doherty clearing the water september , , in the langley aeroplane driven by a curtiss -horsepower motor and tractor screw.] in the accompanying illustrations, plates and show the appearance of the langley flying machine after mr. curtiss had provided it with hydroaeroplane floats and their connecting truss work. the steel main frame, the wings, the rudders, the engine and propellers all were substantially as they had been in . the pilot had the same seat under the main frame, and the same general system of control as in . he could raise or lower the craft by moving the big rear rudder up and down; he could steer right and left by turning the vertical rudder. he had no ailerons nor wing-warping mechanism, but for lateral balance depended upon the dihedral angle of the wings and upon suitable movements of his weight or of the vertical rudder. and here it may be noted that langley had placed the vertical steering rudder under and to the rear of the center of gravity. so placed, it served as a fairly good aileron by exerting a turning movement about the longitudinal axis of the machine. after the adjustments for actual flight had been made in the curtiss factory, according to the minute descriptions contained in the langley memoir on mechanical flight, the aeroplane was taken to the shore of lake keuka, beside the curtiss hangars, and assembled for launching. on a clear morning (may ), and in a mild breeze, the craft was lifted onto the water by a dozen men and set going, with mr. curtiss at the steering wheel, ensconced in the little boat-shaped car under the forward part of the frame. many eager witnesses and camera men were at hand, on shore and in boats. the four-winged craft, pointed somewhat across the wind, went skimming over the wavelets, then automatically headed into the wind, rose in level poise, soared gracefully for feet, and landed softly on the water near the shore. mr. curtiss asserted that he could have flown farther, but, being unused to the machine, imagined the left wings had more resistance than the right. the truth is that the aeroplane was perfectly balanced in wing resistance, but turned on the water like a weather vane owing to the lateral pressure on its big rear rudder. hence in future experiments this rudder was made turnable about a vertical axis, as well as about the horizontal axis used by langley. henceforth the little vertical rudder under the frame was kept fixed and inactive. after a few more flights with the langley aeroplane, kept as nearly as possible in its original condition, its engine and twin propellers were replaced by a curtiss -horse motor and direct-connected tractor propeller mounted on the steel frame, well forward, as shown in the photographs. it was hoped in this way to spare the original engine and propeller bearings, which were none too strong for the unusual burden added by the floats. in the total weight of pilot and machine had been pounds; with the floats lately added it was , pounds; with the curtiss motor and all ready for flight it was , pounds. but notwithstanding these surplus additions of per cent and per cent above the original weight of the craft, the delicate wing spars and ribs were not broken, nor was any part of the machine excessively overstrained. owing to the pressure of other work at the factory, the aeroplane equipped with the curtiss motor was not ready for further flights till september. in the absence of mr. curtiss, who had gone to california in august, a pupil of his aviation school, mr. elwood doherty, volunteered to act as pilot. during some trials for adjusting the aeroplane controls and the center of gravity, mr. doherty, on the afternoon of september , planed easily over the water, rose on level wing, and flew about feet, at an elevation of or yards, as shown by the accompanying photographs of that date. presently two other like flights were made. mr. doherty found that with the forewings at ° incidence, the rear ones at °, and the pilot's seat on the main frame about midway between the wings, the flier responded nicely to the movements of the pilot wheel. a slight turn of the wheel steered the craft easily to right or left, a slight pull or push raised or lowered it. the big double tail, or rudder, which responded to these movements, was the only steering or control surface used. the breaking of the -foot tractor screw terminated these trials for the day. the waves indicate the strength of the wind during the flights. on september , using a -foot screw, mr. doherty began to make longer flights. a pleasant off-shore breeze rippled the water, but without raising whitecaps. a dozen workmen, lifting the great tandem monoplane from the shore, with the pilot in his seat, waded into the lake and set it gently on the water. a crowd of witnesses near at hand, and many scattered about the shores, and on the lofty vine-clad hills, stood watching expectantly. when some of the official observers and photographers, in a motor boat, were well out in the lake, a man in high-top boots, standing in the water, started the propeller, and stepped quickly out of the way. then with its great yellow wings beautifully arched and distended, the imposing craft ran swiftly out from the shore, gleaming brilliantly in the afternoon sun. at first the floats and lower edges of the rudders broke the water to a white surge, then as the speed increased they rose more and more from the surface. presently the rear floats and the rudders cleared the water, the front floats still skipping on their heels, white with foam. the whole craft was now in soaring poise. it quickly approached the photographers, bearing on its back the alert pilot, who seemed to be scrutinizing every part of it and well satisfied to let it race. then it rose majestically and sailed on even wing , feet; sank softly, skimmed the water, and soared another , feet; grazed the water again, rose and sailed , feet; turned on the water and came back in the same manner; and, as it passed the photographers, soared again nearly half a mile. the flights were repeated a few minutes later, then, owing to squally weather, were discontinued for days. [illustration: smithsonian report, .--zahm. plate . flight of langley aeroplane above lake keuka september , , piloted by e. doherty and driven by a curtiss motor and tractor screw.] [illustration: smithsonian report, .--zahm. plate . langley aeroplane in flight september , ; climbing.] [illustration: smithsonian report, .--zahm. plate . langley aeroplane in flight october , ; natural poise.] [illustration: smithsonian report, .--zahm. plate . langley aeroplane in flight october , . hammondsport, n. y., in background.] on october , , the aeroplane was launched at a. m. in an off-shore breeze strong enough to raise whitecaps. hovering within feet of the water, and without material loss of speed, it made in quick succession flights of the following duration, as observed by four of us in a motor boat and timed by myself: seconds, seconds, seconds, seconds, seconds, seconds. as the speed through air averaged about feet per second, the through air lengths of these flights were, respectively, , feet, , feet, , feet, , feet, , feet, , feet. as the aeroplane was now well out from shore among the heavy billows and white caps, mr. doherty landed it upon the water and turned it half about for the homeward flight. thereupon the propeller tips struck the waves and were broken off, one casting a splinter through the center of the left wing. the pilot stopped the engine, rested in his seat, and was towed home by our motor boat. the flights were witnessed and have been attested by many competent observers. as to the performance of the aeroplane during these trials, the pilot, mr. e. doherty, reports, and we observed, that the inherent lateral stability was excellent, the fore-and-aft control was satisfactory, and the movement of the craft both on the water and in the air was steady and suitable for practical flying in such weather. apparently the machine could have flown much higher, and thus avoided touching the water during the lulls in the breeze; but higher flying did not seem advisable with the frail trussing of wings designed to carry pounds instead of the , pounds actual weight. at the present writing the langley aeroplane is in perfect condition and ready for any further tests that may be deemed useful. but it has already fulfilled the purpose for which it was designed. it has demonstrated that, with its original structure and power, it is capable of flying with a pilot and several hundred pounds of useful load. it is the first aeroplane in the history of the world of which this can be truthfully said. if the experiments be continued under more painstaking technical direction, longer flights can easily be accomplished. mr. manly, who designed the langley engine and screws and who directed the construction and tests of the large aeroplane up to december , , reports that he obtained from the propulsion plant a static thrust of pounds, and that he once ran the engine under full load for hours consecutively. this thrust is nearly pounds more than that commonly obtained at hammondsport with the same plant, and pounds more than the static thrust obtained with the curtiss motor on the day when it flew the aeroplane with , pounds aggregate weight. hence, by restoring the engine and propellers to their original normal working condition they should be able to drive the aeroplane in successful flight with an aggregate weight of nearly , pounds, even when hampered with the floats and their sustaining truss work. with a thrust of pounds, the langley aeroplane, without floats, restored to its original condition and provided with stronger bearings, should be able to carry a man and sufficient supplies for a voyage lasting practically the whole day. dr. langley's aerotechnic work may be briefly summarized as follows: . his aerodynamic experiments, some published and some as yet unpublished, were complete enough to form a basis for practical pioneer aviation. . he built and launched, in , the first steam model aeroplane capable of prolonged free flight, and possessing good inherent stability. . he built the first internal-combustion motor suitable for a practical man-carrying aeroplane. . he developed and successfully launched the first gasoline model aeroplane capable of sustained free flight. . he developed and built the first man-carrying aeroplane capable of sustained free flight. [illustration] * * * * * * transcriber's note: this e-text follows the text of the original publication. some minor punctuation inconsistencies have been regularised. small-capitals in the original publication have been changed to capitals. courtesy of the digital library@villanova university (http://digital.library.villanova.edu/)) motor stories thrilling adventure motor fiction no. aug. , five cents motor matt's engagement or on the road with a show _street & smith publishers new york_ [illustration: _motor matt, as he coaxed the last ounce of speed from the motor, shouted encouragingly to the terrified girl on the trapeze._] motor stories thrilling adventure motor fiction _issued weekly. by subscription $ . per year. copyright, , by_ street & smith, _ - seventh avenue, new york, n. y._ no. . new york, august , . price five cents. motor matt's engagement; or, on the road with a show. by the author of "motor matt." contents chapter i. "on the banks of the wabash." chapter ii. in the calliope tent. chapter iii. an eavesdropper. chapter iv. queer proceedings. chapter v. motor matt protests. chapter vi. ablaze in the air. chapter vii. was it treachery? chapter viii. a call for help. chapter ix. black magic. chapter x. the mahout's flight. chapter xi. the paper trail. chapter xii. carl turns a trick. chapter xiii. the lacquered box. chapter xiv. the hypnotist's victim. chapter xv. "for the sake of haidee!" chapter xvi. the rajah's niece. saved by a falling tree. how they captured the python. on the road to mandalay. characters that appear in this story. =motor matt king.= =joe mcglory=, a young cowboy who proves himself a lad of worth and character, and whose eccentricities are all on the humorous side. a good chum to tie to--a point motor matt is quick to perceive. =ping=, a chinese boy who insists on working for motor matt, and who contrives to make himself valuable, perhaps invaluable. =carl pretzel=, an old chum who flags motor matt and more trouble than he can manage, at about the same time. in the rôle of detective, he makes many blunders, wise and otherwise, finding success only to wonder how he did it. =ben ali=, an elephant driver; a hindoo gifted in the arts for which his country is famous and infamous. the uncle of margaret manners, he revenges himself upon his brother, the rajah, in a way that proves his own undoing. =aurung zeeb=, another elephant driver, and a friend of ben ali, assisting in his scoundrelly work. =haidee=, whose real name is margaret manners, a girl from india, who becomes the hypnotic subject of ben ali, and is saved from him by motor matt and carl. =boss burton=, manager and proprietor of the big consolidated shows. a man who tries to be "square," in his own remarkable way. chapter i. "on the banks of the wabash." strange, how a few harmless ingredients, thrown together and mixed, will set the trouble pot a-boiling. saltpeter is an innocent and useful product, and so is charcoal and sulphur; but seventy-five per cent. of the first, fifteen per cent. of the second, and ten per cent. of the third, when properly mixed, will make gunpowder--an explosive that has slain millions, made kingdoms over into republics, and changed the map of the world again and again. so, on this beautiful morning, with the banks of the wabash river for a setting, fate was juggling with a few trifling elements for the purpose of combining them and manufacturing trouble. the big consolidated shows were pitching their tents near that part of the river, and two of the ingredients that helped form the dangerous mixture were connected with the "tented aggregation." one was the big elephant, rajah, who had a tremendous thirst and was wabbling along toward the river for a drink; the other was a chinese boy, dipping a couple of pails of water from the stream for the steam calliope. the third element--the one having no connection with the show--was a german youth with a weakness for bursting into song. the elephant, dryer than the desert of sahara, was making big and rapid tracks for the brightly gleaming water, the chinaman was leisurely filling his pails, and the german was strolling along the bank, dusty from a long tramp and with a stick over his shoulder from which swung a bundle bound up in a knotted handkerchief. if the german had known how to sing he would not have attracted the attention of the chinaman; and if the chinaman had not looked and grunted his disgust, the german would not have become hostile; and if rajah, the elephant, had not possessed such a playful disposition, the german and the chinaman would probably have separated with no more than a few mongrel words of personal opinion. but fate was working overtime that day, and had an eye for weird combinations. "ach, der moon vas shining pright upon der vabash, from der fieldts dere comes some shmells oof new-mown hay, droo der candlelight der sycamores vas gleaming, on der panks oof der vabash, righdt avay!" this was the german's song, and it sounded as though it had been played on a fish horn. the chinaman could be seen to shiver as he deposited a pailful of water on the bank, straightened erect, and looked at the singer. there was that in his slant eyes which brought the german to a halt. "don'd you like der song, shink?" demanded the dutchman, pushing out his chin in an irritating way. "woosh!" snorted the chinaman, "you makee sing all same like poodle dog makee howl." "py shiminy," cried the dutchman, "i fight pedder as i sing. i don'd let no monkey mit a pigdail make some foolishness mit me." "dutchy boy clazy," declared the celestial. "i nefer liked der shinks anyways," went on the other, dropping his stick and his bundle. "dey vas sheap skates, you bet you, und vas alvays taking avay goot shobs from american fellers. i vill tie you oop in some bowknots mit your pigdail und trop you py der rifer. yah, so." "dutchy boy makee spell 'able,'" and the chinaman, with supreme contempt, picked up his empty pail. "you peen afraidt mit yourseluf!" shouted the dutchman. "my plenty busy; makee cally water fo' calliope. no gottee time to fight. come 'lound after palade, china boy makee dutchy boy suppa' fo' lion." "dot's me," breathed the dutchman, picking up his stick and bundle. "i'll be aroundt after dot barade, you bed my life, und i don'd make some subber for der lion, neider." he started on slowly. unnoticed by either of the boys, the mahout on rajah's neck had kept the elephant close to the river bank. the mahout was dozing, and rajah was filling the piece of hose, more generally known as his trunk, with wabash water and squirting it into his open mouth. now, rajah was an eccentric elephant. there were times when he was full of mischief and playful, and other times when the wild jungle blood got the upper hand of him and he became dangerous. on two or three occasions, when old ben, the african lion, had tried to mix things with the royal bengal tiger, rajah had been called in to separate the fighters with a well-directed stream, hurled with catapult force from his trunk. rajah's cunning little eyes had been taking in the quarrel between the dutchman and the chinaman. something prompted him to elevate his trunk and throw a stream after the retreating dutch boy. the lad was knocked off his feet, his stick going one way and his bundle the other. he jumped to his feet, spluttering, and whirled around. rajah was innocently squirting a dozen or more gallons of the river into his capacious throat, but the chinaman, the empty pail still in his hand, was laughing so that he almost fell off the bank. it was the most natural thing in the world for the dutch boy, in the excitement of the moment, to lay the whole blame on the chinese boy's shoulders. the dutchman had not seen rajah use his trunk, and the chinaman had. it was very laughable, and the chinaman's cackling mirth was unrestrained. the dutchman saw only the empty bucket in the chinaman's hand, and it seemed certain the deluge of water had come from the bucket. "i gif you fits for dot, py shiminy!" whooped the teuton. "no can do!" declared the celestial. the dutchman came on with a bound, his dripping clothes sprinkling everything in his vicinity. the chinaman threw the bucket. the other dodged. the bucket sailed on through the air and struck delhi, rajah's mate, a sharp rap on her big, fanning ear. delhi trumpeted loudly and started furiously after the boys. both the chinaman and the dutchman, their faculties completely wrapped up in their quarrel, gave no attention to the elephants. coming together like a thousand of brick, they clinched and wrestled back and forth on the bank. delhi, wild with anger, gave no heed to the fierce prodding of her mahout, but rushed onward, her trunk stretched eagerly ahead of her and twitching and curving in its desire to lay hold of the struggling youngsters. for a second the prospect was very dark for the teuton and the celestial. what would have happened to them is problematical if delhi had had her way. but the big brute was not allowed to work her will. rajah interfered; not out of any desire to be of help to the boys, but rather to assist his mate in securing vengeance. quickly rajah aimed his trunk and hurled a stream of water. the jet struck the two boys, lifted them from their feet, and hurled them into the river. the lads were tossed from the bank in just the nick of time. hardly were they clear of the spot where they had been wrestling when delhi's disappointed trunk swept over it. rajah's mahout, of course, had aroused himself, and he and the other man got busy bringing the elephants into subjection. the dutchman and the chinaman had fallen into deep water. it was necessary to disentangle themselves from each other in order to swim and keep from being drowned. as delhi backed away from the water's edge, under the blows of her mahout's sharp, steel prod, she flung the dutchman's bundle and stick at the thrashing forms in the water, and followed these with the buckets. "i can do oop a shink mit vone hand," gurgled the dutchman, as his dripping head appeared above the surface of the river; "aber ven a goople oof elephants iss rung indo der game, den i don'd---- wow!" the handkerchief bundle, hurled with terrific force, struck him on the head and sent him under. "dutchy boy no good!" spluttered the chinaman. "him velly fine false alarm---- woosh!" one of the buckets hit the celestial in the small of the back and he vanished in a flurry of bubbles. when he and the dutchman again reappeared, delhi and rajah were under control and no further danger threatened. "what's the matter with you two kids?" cried delhi's mahout, excited and angry. "der shink drew some vater on me," answered the dutchman, "und made more monkey-doodle pitzness dan i vould shtand for." "him no savvy," declared the chinese. "el'fant makee thlow water." rajah's mahout was a hindoo. in a queer jargon of broken english, he described the way rajah had hosed down the dutchman as the latter was walking off. the other mahout lost his wrath in a flood of merriment. "it's all a mistake!" he called. "come out o' the wet and stop your foolishness. if ye try to do any more fightin', i'll set delhi onto you ag'in." the dutchman labored ashore with his stick and his bundle, and the chinaman followed with his buckets. "what do you s'pose motor matt would think of this, ping?" went on the mahout. "if he----" but what the mahout was intending to say was lost in a roar of amazement and delight from the dutchman. "vat's dot? modor matt? vere he iss, anyvay? say, i vas his bard, und i peen looking for him efery blace, longer as i can dell. shpeak, vonce! vere iss modor matt?" "china boy motol matt's pard," spoke up the dripping ping. "my workee fo' motol matt; dutchy boy no workee." "py shiminy, i dell you some more dot i peen carl pretzel," shouted the dutchman, "und dot i vas looking for der show, und ditn't know i vould findt modor matt at der same dime. vere iss he, misder?" and carl appealed anxiously to the mahout. "he's travelin' with the show, youngster," answered the mahout, "an' doin' a flyin'-machine stunt twice a day. if ye want to find him, hike for the show grounds." without paying any further attention to ping or the elephants, carl gathered in his cap--which lay at the water's edge, and was the only thing belonging to him that was not dripping wet--and laid a rapid course for the top of the bank. ping, filling the pails, started after carl, worrying not a little over this new pard of motor matt's who had appeared so unexpectedly on the scene. chapter ii. in the calliope tent. "i don't like it, pard, and you can bet your moccasins on that," said joe mcglory. "there are a whole lot of things about this business i don't fancy," returned motor matt; "but we're under contract, joe, and boss burton says he'll give us an extra fifty a week if we do the trick." "but the girl! what's her notion about it? hanging to a trapeze under the aëroplane isn't a stunt to be sneezed at." "she's anxious to do the trick. she'll get fifty dollars a week for it, and the money looks good to her." "there's the danger, pard. her neck's worth more than fifty plunks a week." "she's a little brick, that haidee--pure grit. i'll see that she's not placed in much danger." "you'll have your hands full looking after yourself and the aëroplane. sufferin' whirligigs! you know how hard it is to manage the _comet_ when there's a weight suspended beneath." "i can do it," declared matt. "of course you can do, old socks--you can do anything when you set your mind to it. but, tell me this, what has that old elephant driver, ben ali, got to do with haidee? ben ali's a hindoo, and haidee is almost as white as an american girl." "ben ali's her uncle, joe. haidee's mother was ben ali's sister, and haidee's father was an english officer living in bombay. the girl told me all this yesterday at the time she begged me to do what boss burton wanted and let her trail the _comet_ aloft on the trapeze." "funny combination," muttered joe. mcglory was in his overclothes, and had just finished getting the aëroplane ready for the parade. the "animal top"--that is, the menagerie tent--had been hoisted, and the small canvas lean-to that housed the steam calliope had been put in place alongside. the calliope was not in the lean-to, but was out on the grounds, being put in shape for the parade. matt and joe usually came to the calliope tent to make themselves ready for the street procession. they, together with ping, had been three weeks with the big consolidated, matt making ascensions in the aëroplane twice daily, following the parade and just before the evening performance--wind and weather permitting. so proficient had matt become in handling the flying machine that nothing short of a stiff gale or a hard rain kept him from carrying out his engagements for a double exhibition each day. the aëroplane had caught the popular fancy, and had proved the biggest kind of a card for boss burton, proprietor of the show. under its own motive power, the machine formed a star feature of the parade, traveling slowly on the bicycle wheels which were necessary in giving it a start when flights were made. from tip to tip, the wings of the aëroplane measured more than thirty feet. of course it could not travel in the parade with such a stretch of surface across the streets, so matt had arranged the bicycle wheels in such a manner that the _comet_ moved sideways in the procession, the king of the motor boys, his cowboy pard, and his chinese comrade occupying positions in the seats on the lower wing. when matt and his friends first joined the outfit, boss burton had supplied them with bespangled apparel, which, if they had worn it, would, according to mcglory, have made them "a holy show." matt and mcglory balked at the glittering costumes, but ping had hung to his beadwork and gilt trimmings with a fierce determination there was no shaking. mcglory compromised with burton by getting into a swell cowboy rig, but for matt there was no such thing as compromise. this engagement with the show was purely a business proposition, and he refused to make a spectacle out of himself. he looked well, too, in his unostentatious blue cap and clothes, and was given many a cheer as the aëroplane pitched and shivered along in the procession. boss burton was a shrewd manager, and it was said that he lay awake nights while section two of the show train was making its jumps between stands, thinking up new acts that would thrill the patrons of the big consolidated. his last idea was to hitch a trapeze to the bottom of the aëroplane, and have haidee, ben ali's pretty niece, perform on the flying bar while matt was manoeuvring the _comet_ over the show grounds. it was this new wrinkle that had drawn objections from mcglory when he and matt had retired to the calliope tent to make ready for the parade. about all matt had to do to get ready was to wash and brush himself. mcglory, on the other hand, had to get into a blue shirt, corduroy trousers, "chaps," tight, high-heeled boots, and a broad-brimmed sombrero. "what's become of ping?" asked matt, stepping to the tent flap and looking off over the busy grounds. it would be an hour before the parade could start, and the bright sun glowed over a scene of feverish activity. the side-show tents, the stable tents, and cook tent were already up. a small army of men was working on the circus "top," and the rhythmical thump of mauls on tent stakes could be heard on every hand. horses in two, four, six, and eight-horse teams were moving about; band wagons, cages, and chariots were being dusted and cleaned; the painted banners in front of the side-show were being laced to their guys; the candy "butchers" were getting their places in readiness, and throughout the various occupations of the men ran an orderly disorder, everywhere noticeable. but matt could see nothing of ping, and he turned away to where mcglory, his foot on an overturned bucket, was buckling a big-roweled mexican spur to his heel. "ping is always promptness itself in getting into his tinsel frills and furbelows," remarked matt, "and i can't understand what's keeping the boy so late this morning." "he's been put on the steam calliope, pard," laughed mcglory, dropping his foot from the bucket and stamping until the rowel jingled. "little squinch-eye seems to have fallen in love with that bunch of steam whistles. he tried to play 'yankee doodle' on the pipes, in indianapolis, and had almost stampeded the elephants before the calliope man could choke him off. sufferin' jangles, pard, you never heard such a sound." before matt could make any response, a soft voice called from outside: "motor matt! can i come in a minute?" "sure," replied matt heartily. a lithe, graceful form, in velvet and spangles, leaped lightly through the opening. "haidee!" exclaimed matt, staring. the girl bowed laughingly and threw a kiss, just as she was in the habit of doing after her trapeze work in the "big top." "yes, friends," she answered; "haidee, the flying marvel, who is to do a turn on motor matt's flying machine just before the doors open. i am also to ride on the top wing of the _comet_ during the parade. will i do?" lifting her arms, she pirouetted around for the observation of the boys, then paused and smiled bewitchingly. "do?" cried mcglory. "why, sis, you'll be the hit of the piece. all i hope"--and mcglory's face went rather long--"is that you and matt come through your trip in the air without any trouble." "i'm not afraid!" declared haidee. "no more you're not, sis. if you were riding on the lower wing with matt the whole game would be different; but you're to hang under the machine, and there'll be more pitching and plunging than if you were aboard a bucking bronk. hang on, that's all, and don't try to hang by your heels." "i'll get an extra fifty dollars a week!" cried the girl. it was plain to be seen that she placed great store on that "fifty dollars a week." "what does your uncle, ben ali, think of it, haidee?" asked matt. a barely perceptible frown crossed the girl's face. what was passing in her mind? whatever her thoughts were, they found no echo in her answer. "uncle ben is glad to have me do it," and haidee retreated toward the door. "have you seen ping, haidee?" inquired matt. "when i saw him last," was the response, "he was walking toward the river with a couple of buckets. i'll be going, now. i'll see you again when the parade starts. that trapeze act on the aëroplane will make a great hit, don't you think?" "it ought to," said matt. the girl vanished. "i'll walk over to the steam music box," remarked mcglory, "and see if i can spot our pigtail friend." "all right," returned matt, dropping down on an overturned bucket and pulling a pencil and memorandum book from his pocket. before he could begin to figure, he heard a voice addressing mcglory at the tent door--and it was a voice that brought him up rigidly erect and staring. "say, misder, iss dis der shteam cantalope tent?" mcglory laughed. "well, yes, dutchy, you've made a bull's-eye first clatter. here's where they keep the 'cantalope.' what's the matter with you? look like you'd gone in swimming and forgotten to take off your clothes." "i tropped in der rifer mit meinseluf, und id vas vetter as i t'ought. say, vonce, iss modor matt aroundt der blace?" "he's inside, and---- sufferin' whirlwinds, but you're in a hurry!" a bedraggled form, with a dripping bundle in one hand and a stick in the other, hurled itself through the opening with a yell. "matt! mein olt pard, matt!" the next instant carl pretzel had rushed forward and twined his water-soaked arms about the king of the motor boys. the dutchman's delight was of the frantic kind, and he gurgled and whooped, and blubbered, and wrestled with matt in a life-and-death grip. mcglory, in amazement, watched from the entrance. "carl!" exclaimed matt. "by all that's good, if it isn't carl! great spark plugs, old chap, where did you drop from?" "ach, from novere und eferyvere. vat a habbiness! i peen so dickled mit meinseluf i feel like i vas going to pust! my olt raggie, matt, vat i ain'd seen alreddy for a t'ousant years!" just then there was a rush behind mcglory, and some one nearly knocked him over getting into the tent. "my workee fo' motol matt!" shrilled a high, angry voice. "dutchy boy no workee!" ping was terribly hostile, but mcglory caught and held him. carl tore himself loose from matt and would have rushed at ping had he not been restrained. "looks like they'd both been in the river," remarked mcglory. "what's the trouble here, boys?" asked matt. chapter iii. an eavesdropper. both carl and ping tried to explain matters at the same time. each talked loud, in the hope of drowning out the other, and the jargon was terrific. finally mcglory got a hand over the chinaman's mouth, and carl was able to give his side of the question. after that, ping had his say. "there's been no cause whatever for this flare-up," said matt. "everybody knows that carl can't sing, but everybody who's acquainted with him, too, knows that he's got more pluck to the square inch than any fellow of his size. carl's all right, ping. he went around south america with dick ferral and me on that submarine, and we parted company in san francisco just before i met up with joe. shake hands," and matt pushed carl toward the chinaman. "my workee fo' motol matt," whispered ping, who had likewise been given a push by the cowboy; "dutchy boy no workee, huh?" "you're both pards of mine," said matt, "and you've got to be friends. now, shake hands." the shaking was done--rather hesitatingly, it is true, but nevertheless it was done. "now," went on matt, "you get into your regalia, ping. carl, you can get out of your wet clothes and put on joe's working suit. while you're about it, tell me how you happen to be here. you stay and listen, joe," the young motorist added. "i want you to like carl as well as i do." "that's me, pard," laughed mcglory, taking a seat on one of the buckets. "there's plenty of ginger in the dutchman, and that's what cuts the ice with me." ping, covertly watching and listening, moved over to his bag of clothes and began rigging himself out in his gorgeous raiment. carl, talking as he worked, removed his water-logged costume. "i vas a tedectif, matt," said he gravely. "what's that?" demanded mcglory. "detective," smiled the king of the motor boys. "my dutch pard has been making a sleuth out of himself." "yah, so," pursued carl. "tick verral vent off mit his uncle, in tenver, und i run avay to san francisco looking for matt. he don'd vas dere some more, und i can't find oudt nodding aboudt vere he vas gone. i haf to do somet'ing vile vaiting for him to turn oop, und so i go indo der tedectif pitzness. dot's great vork, i bed you. you findt somet'ing for somepody, und dey gif you all kindts oof money. fine!" "how much have you made at the business, carl?" queried matt. "vell, nodding, so far as i haf gone, matt. aber i don'd haf no luck mit it. i vas schust learning der ropes. a feller hat his money took avay in 'frisco. i ged oudt oof dot mit a proken headt, und don'd findt der money. vell, next a olt laty in salt lake city loses her parrot, und say she gif ten tollar vould i findt him. i ketch der parrot off a push schust ven anodder feller lays holt oof him. ve fight for der pird, der pird iss kilt, und some more i don'd ged nodding, only a plack eye und some fierce talk from der olt laty. aber i don'd ged tiscouraged, nod at all. i vork on mit meinseluf. "pympy, i peen in chicago--der blace vere ve vas, matt, mit der air ship. dot's a great town for der tedectif pitzness, i bed you. i try to hire oudt by a prifate tedectif achency, aber dey don'd vant me. i keep afder dose fellers, und afder i was t'rown from der office a gouple oof times i valked in on dem by der fire escape. den dey gif me some chobs." "what sort of a job did they give you, carl?" by that time the dutch boy had stripped and put on mcglory's clothes. reaching for his water-logged bundle, he untied it, and fished a folded newspaper from an assortment of rubber collars, socks, and red cotton handkerchiefs. the newspaper was very damp, and had to be handled with care. "dis iss some english papers, matt," explained carl. "id vas brinted in lonton, und dose tedectif fellers had him py deir office. how mooch iss a t'ousant pounds in unidet shtates money, hey?" "five thousand dollars." "veil, dot's der chob--making dot fife t'ousant. i bet you i get rich vone oof dose tays." "you have to do something, don't you, before you get the money?" queried mcglory, with a wink at matt. "ach, dot's nodding," answered carl, in a large, offhand manner. "readt dot, matt." matt took the wet newspaper and read a marked paragraph, which ran as follows: "£ , reward! this sum will be paid for any information concerning one margaret manners, last known to be in calcutta, india. miss manners is about eighteen years of age, and is the only daughter of the late captain lionel manners, of the english army, stationed at bombay. miss manners disappeared from her home, under mysterious circumstances, and it is possible she went to america and engaged in the circus business. any one with knowledge concerning the missing person, and desirous of obtaining the reward, will please communicate with arthur hoppleson, solicitor, kent's road, london, w. c. further information, which cannot be publicly printed, will be cheerfully furnished." motor matt, after reading the paragraph to himself, read it aloud. "why," grinned mcglory, "that outfit of detectives was working your german friend, matt. they gave him that and sent him on a wild-goose chase, just to get rid of him." "dot's a misdake," declared carl. "dose fellers saw i meant pitzness, py shinks, und dey gif me der hardest case dey hat. yah, so. since den i haf peen looking for shows. eferyvere i hear aboudt some shows i hike avay. aber i don'd findt miss manners. she don'd vas in der mooseums, oder in der vild vest shows, or in rinklings; und oof she vasn't in der pig gonsolidated, den i vas oop some shtumps. my money has blayed oudt, und i hat to rite in a pox car to lafayette, intiana. here i vas shdrolling along tovard der show groundts ven i see dot shink mit der puckets, und hat sooch a scrap. afder der scrap vas ofer, a man on a elephant shpeak about motor matt. den i don'd t'ink oof nodding more. i come, so kevick as bossiple, to findt my olt raggie. und here ve vas, togedder like ve used to be." a broad smile covered carl's face. "now i don'd care for nodding. oof you t'ink you could help me findt miss manners, den i vill be opliged, und gif you part oof der revard--a gouple oof pounds oof id, anyvay." "it looks to me, carl," said matt, handing back the paper, "as though the men in that detective office were trying to have some fun with you. have you written to london to secure further information?" carl looked startled. "vell," he admitted, "i ditn't t'ink oof dat." "you're a fine detective, you are," said matt. "you might as well hunt for a needle in a haystack as to hunt for this english girl. can't you see? you've got a pretty wide field to cover, and it is only _supposed_ that she came to america and engaged in the circus business." carl ran his fingers through his carroty hair. "meppy dot's right," he mused. "oof dose fellers in chicago vas making some monkey-doodle pitzness mit me, you bed you i vould like to fool dem. meppy i findt der girl. den vat? v'y, dose tedectif fellers feel like t'irty cent. you vas vorking for der show, matt?" "we've an engagement with the manager for making flights in our aëroplane." "vat's dose?" "what's an aëroplane? why, carl, it's a heavier-than-air flying machine." "so? und you go oop in id?" "yes." carl sat on a bucket and ruminated for a space. "you know pooty near efery vone dot vorks for der show, hey?" he asked. "yes, i know every one." "iss dere a girl mit der name oof markaret manners?" "no. but she'd have a different name if she was with a show, carl. performers hardly ever use their real names." "dot's righdt, too." once more carl ran his fingers through his mop of hair. "iss der any vone connected mit der show vat has a shtrawperry mark on der arm?" he asked, brightening. "strawberry mark on the arm?" repeated matt. "why, carl, that advertisement doesn't say anything about such a thing." "i know dot, aber efery young laty you read aboudt vat's lost has der shtrawperry mark on der----" mcglory let off a roar of laughter. carl straightened up with a pained look on his fat face. "carl," cried mcglory, "you're a great sleuth, and no mistake! you jump at too many conclusions." "dere don'd vas anyt'ing else to chump ad," returned carl. "dis vas a dark case, you bed you, und dere has to be some guessings. dot's vat i make now, der guessings." "pretty woolly guessing, at that, and----" mcglory broke off abruptly to follow a sudden movement on matt's part. the canvas forming the side of the menagerie tent had shaken, as though there was some one on the other side of it. matt, seeing the shiver of the canvas, leaped for the wall. the next moment he had lifted the canvas and was looking into the other tent. a tall, brown-faced man, wearing a turban and an embroidered jacket, was just vanishing through the tent entrance. matt dropped the canvas and turned away, a thoughtful look taking the place of the smile with which he had listened to carl's talk. "what was it, pard?" asked mcglory. "an eavesdropper," replied matt. "speak to me about that!" exclaimed mcglory. "if some one thought the dutchman's yarn worth listening to, then perhaps there's something in it." "perhaps." motor matt's brow wrinkled perplexedly. "who was the fellow? could you recognize him?" "it was ben ali." mcglory bounded up, excited, and his own face reflecting some of the perplexity that shone in his friend's. before the conversation could be continued, however, a man thrust his head into the calliope tent. "they're waiting for you fellows," he announced. "hustle!" chapter iv. queer proceedings. the place occupied by the aëroplane in the procession was almost at the end, and just behind the herd of four elephants. rajah, owing to his freakish disposition, was always the fourth elephant of the string, delhi his mate, immediately preceding him. with peaceable brutes ahead, rajah might usually be depended upon not to cut any capers. it will be seen from this that the _comet_ followed on the heels of rajah. the parade was almost in readiness for the start when matt, mcglory, and ping reached the aëroplane. hostlers were running about placing plumes in the head-stalls of the horses, drivers were climbing to their seats, the wild animal trainer was getting into the open cage, and the members of the band were tinkering with their instruments. haidee was standing by the aëroplane when matt, mcglory, and ping reached the machine. "all ready, haidee?" asked matt. the girl turned and looked at him blankly. her face was unusually white, and there was a vacant stare in her eyes. "what's to pay, sis?" asked mcglory, with a surprised look at matt. "don't you feel well?" "i am well." the words came in an unnatural voice and with parrot-like precision. boss burton came hustling down the line in his runabout. "hurry up, matt," he called. "help haidee to a place on the upper wing of the _comet_." matt stepped over to the runabout. "what's the matter with the girl?" he asked, in a low tone. "matter?" echoed burton, fixing a keen look on the girl. "by jupiter, she's got one of her spells again! she hasn't had one of those for a month, now, and i thought they'd about left her for good." "is she subject to spells of that kind?" "she used to be. there's something queer about them, but they don't last long." "we shouldn't put her on the upper wing, then. there's no seat there, and nothing to hold on to." the sharp, impatient notes of a trumpet came from the head of the line. "well, put her somewhere," said burton impatiently, and whirled his horse. "get on the top plane, ping," said matt, hurrying back to the _comet_. "haidee is going to ride on the lower wing with us." "awri'," chirped ping, and mcglory gave him a leg up. haidee, moving like an automaton, made no objection to this arrangement. she took her place obediently on the lower wing of the machine, between matt and mcglory, and the engine was started. when the elephants began to move, matt switched the power into the bicycle wheels, and the aëroplane lurched over the uneven ground. reaching the road, the _comet_ went more steadily; and when the procession wound into the paved thoroughfares, the movement was comparatively easy. ben ali, from the neck of rajah, kept turning around and looking back at the three on the lower plane of the _comet_. matt, mcglory, and haidee, on account of the wings of the aëroplane being turned lengthwise of the street, rode facing the sidewalk on the left. in order to see them, ben ali was obliged to keep rajah somewhat out of the line. "what's the matter with ben ali?" asked mcglory, leaning forward and talking in front of haidee. "he's showing a heap more interest in the _comet_ than he ever did before." matt shook his head, and met steadily the piercing eyes of the hindoo until they were turned forward again. "what is your uncle looking this way for, haidee?" he asked. "i don't know." the girl expressed herself in the same mechanical way she had done before. "haidee isn't herself," said matt, "and i guess her uncle is worried. change seats with her, joe." matt wanted to talk with his cowboy chum and did not want to be under the necessity of passing his words around the girl. "move over, sis," requested mcglory, standing up and balancing himself on the foot-rest. the girl quietly slipped along the plane. cheer after cheer greeted the aëroplane and the king of the motor boys as soon as the crowded thoroughfares were reached. ping, on the upper wing, and clad in all his barbaric finery, was as proud as a peacock. haidee, on the other hand, paid absolutely no attention to the crowds. she sat rigidly in her place, like a girl carved from stone, keeping her unblinking eyes straight ahead of her. "i'm plumb beat, and no mistake," breathed mcglory, in matt's ear. "i never saw haidee like this before. she acts to me like she was locoed." "boss burton told me, just before we started," answered matt, in a low tone, "that she was subject to 'spells.' this is the first one she has had in a month, burton says." "can you savvy it?" "no." "ben ali seems worried out of his wits. watch how he keeps rajah zigzagging back and forth across the trail, so he can get a look at the girl every now and then. i wonder if haidee knows what she's about?" "she must. if she didn't she wouldn't be riding in the aëroplane." the bands played, the crowds waved hands and handkerchiefs and cheered, the clowns carried out all their funny stunts, and the procession moved on through the city of lafayette. students from purdue university followed the paraders and blew long blasts through tin horns. rajah showed signs of becoming restless, and ben ali's attention had to be given entirely to the big brute. matt, with one hand on the steering lever, kept the unwieldy machine moving in a straight track. "what do you suppose ben ali was listening to carl's talk for, there on the inside of the menagerie tent?" inquired the cowboy, his voice so low it could not possibly reach haidee. "i had a notion that----" "sh-h-h!" matt interrupted. "i had the same notion, joe, but it was only a wild guess, at the most. he's a prying chap, that ben ali, and he might have had only a casual interest in what carl was saying." "i'll bet a ten-dollar bill against a chink wash ticket that there was something more to it than that." "well, if there was, it's bound to come out, sooner or later. say nothing, but keep your eyes open." "i've always felt that there was a mystery about the girl and ben ali, and that----" mcglory broke off suddenly. haidee, with the quickness of lightning, had leaned over behind him and jerked one of the levers at matt's side. the next instant the big aëroplane took a wild jump forward. the king of the motor boys was alive to the danger in an instant. "hold the girl!" he cried, and instantly flung the lever back. the front ends of the two great wings had hurled themselves against rajah. the huge animal trumpeted wildly and swung about on his hind legs with trunk uplifted. it seemed as though he would surely charge the _comet_, wreck the machine, and kill or maim the four who were riding in it. mcglory, with haidee in his arms, leaped from the foot-rest into the road. ping rolled off the opposite side of the upper plane. had matt deserted his post, the _comet_ would certainly have been seriously damaged, if not totally wrecked. but, in spite of the danger that threatened him, he kept his seat. quick as a flash, he threw in the reverse. the bulky machine began wabbling away on the back track, the clown in the donkey cart behind, and the acrobatic "haymakers" in their trick wagon, driving frantically out of the way. ben ali was using his sharp prod with apparent frenzy, but the jabbing point had not the least effect. rajah started for matt and the _comet_. then, had not delhi's mahout been self-possessed and quick, the worst would have happened. people in the street jumped for the walk, and those on the walk pushing into the open doors of shops. shrieks and cries went up from the women, and men yelled in consternation. across rajah's path, with a rush, charged delhi, coming to a halt and blocking the way. rajah tried to go around, but delhi backed and continued to cut off his retreat. by that time boss burton had whirled to the scene in the runabout, and half a dozen men, from the forward wagons, were all around rajah, belaboring the brute with cudgels, whips, and whatever they could get their hands on. rajah's incipient rage was soon quelled by this heroic treatment. "what happened?" demanded burton, drawing up beside the aëroplane. "the machine made a jump," answered matt, not wishing to put the blame on the girl. "rajah was too close. tell ben ali to pay more attention to the elephant and less to us, and to keep in the centre of the road." burton was angry. the fault seemed to lie with matt, but ben ali caught the brunt of the showman's ire. ping, his yellow face like a piece of old cheese, got back on the upper wing, and mcglory led haidee to the _comet_ and helped her to her seat. "speak to me about that!" gulped the cowboy. "i'm a piegan if i didn't think you and the old _comet_ were done for. what possessed the girl?" "give it up," answered matt grimly. "as you said a while ago, pard, these are queer proceedings. just watch haidee every minute." "she didn't know what she was doing, and you can gamble a blue stack on that." "of course she didn't. that's why i didn't tell burton the real cause of the trouble. keep it to yourself, joe." chapter v. motor matt protests. the parade was finished without further incident worthy of note, a huge crowd following it back to the show grounds to see the aëroplane flight. as soon as the grounds were reached, ben ali came for haidee. there was a burning light in his black eyes, and he was shaking like a man with the ague. "just a minute, ben ali," said matt, catching the hindoo by the sleeve of his embroidered coat and leading him apart. "what's the matter with your niece?" "salaam, sahib," chattered ben ali. "haidee all right soon." "she can't make an ascension with me, ben ali. she was the cause of that trouble, and it would be sheer madness to take her aloft on that trapeze." "yis, sahib, _such baht_" (that is true). ben ali drew a quivering hand over his forehead. "but she be well like ever soon, sahib." ben ali whirled away, took haidee by the hand, and vanished among the wagons. boss burton strode to the scene. "what ails that brown rascal?" he asked, staring after ben ali. "he's in as bad a taking as the girl. what did he say about her? i've never been able to get him to tell me anything about her spells." "he tells me that she will be all right in a little while," answered matt. "then we'll delay the flight. it will be half an hour yet before all the people get here." matt peered at the showman as though he thought him out of his senses. "you don't mean to say that you want the girl to ride a trapeze under the _comet_?" he demanded. "why not?" burton answered. "you said you'd take her, and she's willing to go--she wants to go." "when i said i'd take her," returned matt, "i didn't know anything about her spells. suppose she were to have one while we're in the air? why, burton, she might throw herself from the trapeze." "no," declared the other, "she wouldn't do that. after she has one spell, i understand she doesn't have another for days, or weeks. it's been a month since she had the last. why, in st. paul, she had one ten minutes before she went to the ring for her trapeze work--and she never did better. if ben ali says she'll be all right in a little while he ought to know." "i protest against allowing her to go up in the aëroplane," said matt firmly. "when the machine is off the ground it has to have my whole attention. i won't be able to look after haidee without endangering both our lives." a hard look came into burton's face. "i'm paying you five hundred a week for the stunt you pull off with the flying machine, ain't i?" he demanded harshly. "you are," was the young motorist's calm response. "and i'm giving the fifty on top of that for taking the girl up with you?" "that was your proposition." "and you agreed to it?" "that was before i knew haidee was afflicted in this way, burton." "bosh!" scoffed the showman. "the thing has got on your nerves." "so it has," acknowledged matt. "i'm not going to place haidee in any danger, if i can help it." "and that shot goes as it lays, burton," spoke up mcglory, who had been taking a deep interest in the talk. "if you think motor matt is going to risk the girl's neck, or his own, for a little fifty a week, you've got another guess coming." boss burton had set his heart on that trapeze act. it was a decided novelty, and he could not cut it out of his calculations. "am i to understand," he went on, taking a look at the gathering crowds, "that you'll break your contract rather than take haidee up with you?" "that's what you're to understand!" snapped mcglory. "we'll not hem, and haw, and side-step, not for a holy minute." "it's this way, burton," continued matt. "haidee can't go up on the trapeze--we have to take a running start, you know, and it would be impossible. she'll have to ride up on the lower plane; then, after we are well clear of the ground, she'll have to drop from the footboard with the trapeze in her hands. if she's not entirely herself, the drop from the footboard to the end of the trapeze ropes will be too much for her. she'll fall." "but i told you that after she comes out of these things she's as fit as ever," cried burton. "it's a still day--the best we've had for flying since you joined the show. i don't want to give up the idea." "and you don't want to see haidee killed before your eyes, do you?" asked matt coldly. "oh, splash! there'll be nothing of that kind. ah, look! here she comes, and she's just as well as ever." matt and mcglory turned. haidee, ready for the ascent, was hurrying toward the machine from the direction of the tent. she moved swiftly and gracefully, and there was nothing mechanical in her actions--as there had been during the parade. the pallor had left her cheeks and the vacant look was gone from her eyes. matt and mcglory were astounded at the sudden change in her. "are you all ready for me, motor matt?" she asked eagerly. the trapeze was ready. that had been attached to the under plane of the _comet_ and the bar lashed to the foot-rest before the parade. but matt was not ready. "how are you feeling, haidee?" asked matt kindly. "fine!" she declared. "do you remember what happened during the parade?" a puzzled look crossed her face. "i can't remember a thing about that," she declared. "in fact, everything has been a blank almost from the time i left the calliope tent, where i was talking with you, until i came to myself in the menagerie tent with uncle ben." matt bowed his head thoughtfully. "what's the matter?" asked the girl, in a quivering voice. "aren't you going to take me up with the _comet_?" "he's afraid you'll have a spell while you're in the air, haidee, and drop off the bar," jeered burton. the girl stepped forward and caught matt's sleeve. "oh, it can't be true!" she exclaimed tearfully. "motor matt, you're not going to keep me from making that extra money? i need it! i must have it!" the girl's earnestness made matt waver. "it won't do," spoke up mcglory decidedly. "joe!" and haidee turned on him. "why can't you understand that i'm just as able as ever to do my trapeze work? i'll not have another of those queer spells for a long time." "that's what you think, sis," answered mcglory, "but if anything happened to you my pard would remember it as long as he lived. he has just protested to burton against taking you up. and he had a bean on the right number when he said what he did." "_i'm_ taking the chances," said haidee, "and nothing will happen." the aëroplane was at rest on the hard roadway running across the show grounds. for a distance of twenty feet on each side of the road strong ropes were stretched to keep back the crowd. the throng was now pressing against the ropes, clamoring for the aëroplane to make its flight. "if this performance don't come off," said boss burton, "it will be a tough blow for the big consolidated. i advertised this trapeze stunt on the flying machine in the morning papers, wiring it ahead from indianapolis. it's _got_ to be done, that's all. every promise made in our bills is always carried out. that's what has given this show a hold with the people. i don't say one thing and then do another." "circumstances alter cases," returned matt. "if you don't want to take haidee, will you take archie le bon?" archie le bon was one of the le bon brothers, iron-nerved men who performed wonderful flying feats on the trapeze. "certainly i'll take archie le bon," replied matt, glad to find such a way out of the disagreement. "bring him here while i'm getting the machine ready." haidee began to cry, but burton took her by the arm and led her away, talking earnestly and in a low voice. a trick was worked on the king of the motor boys that morning, and it was something for which he never forgave boss burton. and it was a trick carried to a successful conclusion almost under the very eyes of mcglory and ping. matt, being busy with the aëroplane and the motor, did not discover it until too late. matt went over the machinery of the _comet_ with the same care he exercised before every flight. a loose bolt or screw might spell death for him if it escaped his attention. when he was through with his examination, and had taken his seat ready for the flight. le bon appeared. he was in his shirt sleeves, not having had time to exchange his everyday clothes for ring costume. "i'll run with the machine," said le bon, "and climb over the lower plane from behind when it gets to running too fast for me." "that will do," answered matt. amid the breathless silence of the crowd, matt set the motor to working. "ready!" he called. the machine started along the road, gaining in speed with every foot of its progress. at the end of fifty feet it was going faster than a man could run; and at a hundred feet it was darting along at thirty miles an hour. this was the gait that enabled the wing to pick the machine off the ground. as the _comet_ slid upward along its airy path, the astounded mcglory saw le bon far back toward the point from which the machine had started. thinking that, through some mistake, le bon had been left behind, mcglory turned toward the mounting aëroplane. then the trick dawned upon him. haidee was climbing over the lower plane toward motor matt, now and again turning to wave her hand at the cheering crowd! and mcglory saw something else--something that had a fearful significance in the light of later events. chapter vi. ablaze in the air. when the king of the motor boys was in the air with the _comet_, every power of mind and body was trained to the work of looking after the machine. flying in an aëroplane is vastly more difficult than sailing in a balloon. in the case of a gas bag, an aëronaut has only to throw out ballast, take his ease, and trust to luck; but, with a heavier-than-air machine, the aviator must rely upon the quickness of his wits and his dexterity. aëroplane flying, in a large measure, is a knack, and must be acquired. the air pressure never touches the machine in exactly the same point for two consecutive seconds, and, because of this, the centre of gravity is constantly changing. centre of gravity and centre of air pressure must coincide at all times if the machine is to be kept in the air, and the success or failure to do this proves the competency or the incompetency of the operator. the traquair aëroplane--upon which model matt's machine had been built--preserved its equilibrium while aloft by an elongation, or contraction, of the wing tips. a lever regulated this; and, whenever matt was flying, the lever was moving continuously, the ends of the wings darting out and in with lightning-like rapidity, one side presenting greater wing area to the pressure while the other presented less, and vice versa. motor matt's engagement with boss burton did not cover long flights. usually, if the weather was propitious, he made it a point to remain aloft about fifteen minutes, circling about the show grounds, turning sharp corners and cutting airy "figure eights," in order to show the capabilities of the aëroplane. "get your trapeze over, le bon!" he called, while they were steadily mounting. a laugh was his answer--a silvery ripple of a laugh that had a familiar ring in his ears and now filled him with consternation. he dared not look around. "haidee!" he exclaimed. "are you mad at me, motor matt?" came the voice of the girl. she cautiously slipped into the seat beside him, her heightened color and sparkling eyes showing her excitement. "this was a trick," went on matt calmly, attending to his work with an indifference more apparent than real, "which you and le bon and burton played on me?" "it was burton's idea, and he told it to me while we were going after archie le bon. archie was to pretend to run with the machine, and i was to be with him. when the machine got to going too fast for us, archie was to drop to one side and i was to spring to the lower wing. your back would be in my direction, and you couldn't see me." "that wasn't like you, haidee," said matt. "are you mad?" "what's the use of being put out with you? i'll have something to say to burton and le bon when i get back to the grounds." "you thought you were doing something to help me--i know that--but you didn't understand i was perfectly able to carry out my part of the programme. as it is now, i came along and you couldn't help yourself. are you going to try and keep me from dropping under the machine with the trapeze?" "no," was the grim reply, "now that you are here you can go on with your work. hold to the hand grip on the edge of the plane while you unlash the bar." perfectly cool, and in complete command of her nerves, haidee knelt on the foot-rest, clinging to the plane with one hand while she unlashed the trapeze bar with the other. "i'm ready, motor matt," said haidee. she was sitting on the edge of the seat, holding the bar in both hands. matt had brought the _comet_ to an even keel, some fifty feet over the show grounds. they were traveling about thirty miles an hour--a snail's pace for the _comet_--and matt was about to make a turn over the river and traverse the length of the grounds going the other way. "now, listen," said he to the girl. "i'm going to tilt the _comet_ sharply upward and ascend for about fifty feet, then i'm going to reverse the position and descend for fifty feet in the same sharp angle. when we turn for the descent, haidee, drop from the foot-rest when i give the word. the pull of your body, when it falls, will drag on the machine, but never mind that--hang on and don't get scared. as soon as i can i will bring the machine to a level. understand?" "yes." "and another thing. while you're moving on the bar, just remember to do it quietly and easily. you've seen the two japs at work in the show, i know. when the big fellow balances the pole on his shoulder, and the little fellow goes up, every move is made as though there would be a smash if they were not careful." "i understand," said the girl. the machine had been brought around and was heading toward the grounds. matt twisted the small forward planes, which laid the course for ascending or descending. at the same time he speeded up the motor. the _comet_ pointed upward; then, at the top of her course, was as quickly turned and aimed toward the earth. matt caught a glimpse of a sea of upturned faces. the machine was rushing downward at a frightful pace. "_now!_" shouted matt. he saw the girl poise birdlike on the foot-rest, then sink from it with the trapeze. so great was the slant of the aëroplane that she seemed to fall forward. there was a jar as the bar reached the end of the ropes, and, with the girl's weight, was caught and held. the _comet_ made an erratic wabble and lurched sideways like a great bird, wounded on the wing. haidee withstood the jolt admirably, and matt twirled the lever operating the steering planes. sounds from the earth always reach aëronauts with startling distinctness. the shouts of consternation which came from the throats of the spectators could be heard, and also the murmur of relief as the _comet_ righted herself, and the trapeze and the girl swung back under the machine. controlling the aëroplane was always more difficult when there was a weight suspended beneath, but matt had counted upon this, and he forced the _comet_ back and forth over the show grounds, holding the machine fairly steady. three times he and haidee circled over the "tops" with their gay streamers, cheer upon cheer following them from below. matt had been in the air more than fifteen minutes, and he was just manoeuvring toward the starting and stopping point, when the cheers were suddenly turned to cries of fear and alarm. he could see the people below waving their arms and pointing upward. for an instant the young motorist's heart sank. he felt sure that something had gone wrong with the girl. this conviction had hardly formed before it was dissipated. a smell of smoke came to his nostrils, and to his ears a crackle of flames. matt turned his head. the left wing of the aëroplane was on fire! a thrill of horror shot through him. in the air, he and haidee, with a blazing flying machine alone between them and death! the very thought was enough to wrench the stoutest nerves. "haidee!" yelled matt. "yes," came the stifled response, from underneath the _comet_. "are you all right?" "yes." "hang to the bar--don't lose your nerve!" matt's mind was grappling with the complex situation. to get safely to the ground in the shortest possible time was the problem that confronted him. how the wing had caught fire he did not know, and had not the time even to guess. it sufficed that the plane was ablaze, and that the longer it blazed and ate into the fabric the less resistance the plane made to the atmosphere. and it was this resistance that spelled life for the king of the motor boys and the girl! to drop the blazing aëroplane into that sea of heads below meant injury to some of the spectators. matt must avoid this and reach the earth in the roped-off lane from which the ascent had been made. he put the clamps on his nerves, and, with brain perfectly clear, drove the aëroplane about at a sharp angle. then, if ever, the machine was true to its name, for as it darted onward, the smoke and flame that streamed out behind must have given it the look of a comet. could he drop to earth, the young motorist was asking himself, before the fire struck either of the gasoline tanks? motor matt, as he coaxed the last ounce of speed from the motor, shouted encouragingly to the terrified girl on the trapeze. suddenly, below him opened the narrow lane roped off along the road. a buzz of excited voices echoed in his ears. with steady hand he shut off the power and glided downward. "drop from the bar and run, haidee," he shouted, "as soon as we come close to the ground." there was a response from the girl, but the clamor of the crowd prevented him from hearing what it was. the next moment the blazing aëroplane settled into the road and glided along on the bicycle wheels. mcglory, carl, and ping were on hand, the cowboy in charge of a detachment of canvasmen with buckets. a hiss of steam, as water struck the flames, rose in the air. "careful!" cried matt, restraining the impetuous assault of the fire fighters. "don't climb over the machine and damage it! keep them back, joe! here, some of you, drench the wings on the right side and keep the fire from spreading." ably directed by matt and mcglory, the fire was extinguished. leaving the damaged aëroplane in charge of carl and ping, matt limped off toward the calliope tent, accompanied by his cowboy chum. chapter vii. was it treachery? "where's haidee?" asked matt. "oh, bother the girl!" cried mcglory savagely. matt turned on him with a surprised look. "what's the matter with you, pard?" he asked. "well, it's apples to ashes that i was never so badly shaken up in my life before as i am this minute. sufferin' judas! say, i'd never have believed it." the crowd was dense. some of the people were moving off toward the city, some were making for the side-show, and others were trying to get close to the king of the motor boys. matt, having just finished a sensational flight, was an object of curiosity and admiration. neither he nor mcglory paid any attention to the demonstration around them, but moved briskly onward toward the calliope tent. "i can't rise to you, joe," said the puzzled matt. "what's on your mind?" "something more'n my hat, and you can bet your moccasins on that." "where did haidee go?" "that leather-faced tinhorn uncle of hers grabbed her and took her away the minute she dropped from the trapeze." "she wasn't hurt, was she?" "i didn't take any trouble to find out. she walked off spry enough." mcglory was gruff to the point of incivility. it was evident to matt that he had been mightily stirred. "what's the matter with you?" demanded matt. "wait till we get into the calliope tent, and out of this crowd and the dust--then i'll tell you." "didn't you discover the trick boss burton played on me with the help of haidee and le bon, joe?" "oh, speak to me about that!" snarled the cowboy. "nary, i didn't, pard, until it was too everlastin'ly late to stop the run of the cards. burton! we've got a bone to pick with him; and, after it's picked, i feel like cramming it down his throat. he was bound to have the girl go up, and he worked it in his sneaking, underhand way! i don't like this layout, matt. you've had the closest call that's ever come your way since you took to flying. sufferin' cats! say, my heart was in my throat all the while i was looking on. i was expecting that any minute the fire would reach the gasoline, that both tanks would let go, and that you, and the girl, and the _comet_ would all be wiped out in a big noise and a splotch of flame." by this time they had reached the calliope tent, and were able to duck inside and get away from the crowd. the calliope was there, and filling the larger part of the interior. the big steam organ was shrouded in a canvas cover, and only the lower rims of the wagon wheels on which it was mounted were to be seen. matt dropped down on a heap of straw and leaned back wearily against a side pole. mcglory threw himself down beside him, his face thoughtful and angry. "i hadn't any notion burton was running in a rhinecaboo," said the cowboy presently, "until the _comet_ had jumped into the air and i had looked back and seen le bon near the place from which the machine had started. when i turned and looked at you and the _comet_, there was the haidee girl perched on the lower wing, throwin' kisses to the crowd. i knew then that burton had turned his trick, and i lammed loose a yell; but there was too much noise for you to hear it. i kept my eyes on the aëroplane and the girl and--and i saw something then that made my hair curl later when the fire broke out." "what was it?" asked matt. "haidee, pushing something out on the left-hand wing and jabbing it down there with a hatpin, so it would stay." "we must have been three or four hundred feet away from you, joe," returned matt, "and how could you see it was a hatpin?" mcglory sat up, opened the front of his coat, and drew a blistered hatpin out of the lining. "i hunted around under the machine, while we were fighting the fire," he explained, "and picked up that. so, you see, i know it was a hatpin." a frown crossed matt's face. "what do you make out of that move of haidee's?" he asked. "she pinned a ball of something soaked in oil to the wing and touched it off," averred mcglory. "it smouldered for a while and then blazed up and set fire to the canvas." "joe," returned matt incredulously, "you must be mistaken. i've always been a friend of haidee's. why should she want to destroy the _comet_, or me? when you come to that, why should she want to take her own life? that's virtually what it would have amounted to if the fire had reached the gasoline tanks." "who could have started the fire, if it wasn't the girl?" demanded mcglory. "she was the one." matt was nonplused. his cowboy chum seemed to have drawn a correct inference, but the supposition was so preposterous the king of the motor boys could take no stock in it. "we've got to use a little common sense, joe," insisted matt. "the girl wouldn't have the least motive in the world for trying to do such a thing as set fire to the _comet_!" "we've got to bank on what we see," answered mcglory, "no matter whether we want to believe our eyes or not. look at it! haidee comes to the aëroplane for the parade like a wooden figure of a girl, moving like a puppet worked by strings. suddenly she flashes out of her locoed condition and pulls a lever that slams the _comet_ against rajah's heels. well, we protected the girl from that because we believed she was having one of her 'spells.' she came out of the spell all of a sudden and lopes down to where the aëroplane stands ready for the start. she seems as well as ever, and begs to go up on the trapeze. a trick is played on us, and she _does_ go up. then, once more, she gets the _comet_ into trouble. i can't savvy the blooming layout, but i'm keen to know that some one is starting in to do us up. and haidee is one of our enemies." just then boss burton pushed into the tent. he was nervous and cast furtive glances at motor matt. "great business!" he exclaimed. "le bon got juggled out of the ascension, after all, and haidee, the sly minx! did her stunt on the trapeze, just as she had planned. how in the world did the machine take fire? crossed wires, or something?" "you need not try to dodge responsibility, burton," said matt sharply. "you put up the trick that was played on me." "on my honor, king----" "don't talk that way," interrupted matt. "come out flat-footed and admit it." "well," grinned burton, a little sheepishly, "if you put it that way, i'll have to acknowledge the corn. but the girl was clear-headed, wasn't she? she didn't fall off the trapeze, and she pulled off some hair-raising tricks on that flying bar that set the crowd gasping. it was the biggest novelty in the way of an act that any show ever put up. results will show at the ticket wagon this afternoon. too confoundedly bad, though, that the thing should have been marred by that fire. how long will it take you to fix up the machine? can you do it in time for an ascent to-night? i've planned to have haidee shoot off skyrockets from the trapeze, and roman candles, and all that." "you'll have to cut out the fireworks, burton," said matt dryly. "it will take a full day to repair the _comet_." burton "went up in the air" on the instant. "think of the loss!" he exclaimed. "you've got to repair the machine in time for the ascent this evening. if it's a matter of men, king, i'll give you a dozen to help." "it's not a matter of men," said matt. "joe and i are the only ones who can work on the _comet_. and listen to this--i mean it, and if you don't like it we'll break our contract right here--haidee has gone up with me for the last time. i'll take archie le bon, or any one else you want to send, but not haidee." "is this what you call treating me square?" fumed burton. "sufferin' ananias!" grunted mcglory. "you're a nice lame duck to talk about being treated square! you've got a treacherous outfit, burton, and pard matt and i are not beginning to like it any too well." matt, thinking mcglory might tell what haidee had done, gave him a restraining look. "you're responsible for the trouble that overtook the _comet_, burton," proceeded matt. "me?" echoed the showman, aghast. "well, i'd like to know how you figure it." "through your schemes, and over my protest, haidee made the ascent with me." "i'll admit that." "if she hadn't made the ascent, there'd have been no fire." "do you mean to say----" "now, don't jump at any conclusions. i know what i'm talking about when i tell you that there'd have been no fire if haidee hadn't made the ascent with me. that isn't saying, mark you, that the girl is to blame for what happened. would she want to burn the aëroplane and drop herself and me plump into the show grounds? if----" just then a weird thing happened. the calliope gave a sharp clatter of high notes. all present in the tent gave astounded attention to the canvas-covered music box. "spooks!" grinned joe. "there was enough steam left in the calliope to play a few notes," suggested burton. "but the notes couldn't play themselves," said matt, and made a rush for the calliope. the keyboard was in one end of the calliope wagon, and the canvas was draped over the chair occupied by the operator when the steam wagon was in use. with a pull, matt jerked aside the canvas that covered the rear of the calliope, and there, crouching in a chair, was ben ali! chapter viii. a call for help. "well, sizzlin' thunderbolts!" gasped the amazed burton. at first, ben ali sat blinking at those before him, apparently too dazed to move. "he's an eavesdropper!" cried mcglory, "and this ain't the first time we've caught him at it, either. grab him, matt! wring that thin neck of his!" ben ali regained his wits, then, and very suddenly. with a panther-like spring, he cleared the wagon on the side opposite that where motor matt was standing, dodged mcglory, who tried to head him off, shook a glittering knife in boss burton's face, and vanished under the wall of the menagerie tent. it was all so neatly done that the three in the calliope lean-to were left staring at each other in helpless astonishment. mcglory rushed furiously at the menagerie tent wall, lifted the canvas, then dropped it and rushed back. "not for me!" he breathed. "rajah is right there, teetering back and forth from side to side, and winding his trunk around everything in sight." "where was ben ali?" demanded burton, a glitter rising in his eyes. "getting out under the cages on the other side of the tent," replied mcglory. "i'll see if i can't head him off." with that the cowboy shot out of the lean-to. matt didn't think the effort to catch ben ali worth while, and once more dropped down on the pile of straw. for a few moments boss burton walked back and forth in front of him, hands behind his back, head bowed in thought, and a black frown on his face. abruptly he halted in front of matt. "the infernal hindoo drew a knife on me!" he scowled. matt nodded. the fact had been too plain to call for comment. "i'd pull the pin on ben ali in half a minute," continued boss burton, "if it wasn't for haidee." "where did you pick up ben ali and haidee?" inquired matt. "in wisconsin," was the answer, "just as the show was starting out of its winter quarters. rajah had run amuck, wounded a horse, smashed a wagon, and come within an ace of killing his keeper. ben ali applied for the job of looking after him, and i let him have it. he's been the only one, so far, who could take care of rajah." "where did the girl come in?" "she came in with her uncle, of course. ben ali said his niece was good on the flying bar, and he brought her to see me. when she came she was in one of her spells, and looked and acted like a puppet, with some one pulling the wires. i wasn't much impressed with her, but gave her a try-out. she recovered from the spell and acted just as she did to-day, when she went up with the _comet_--perfectly natural. she gave a good performance--mighty good--and i made a deal with her uncle. that's the way i got tangled up with the pair. why?" the showman transfixed matt with a curious glance. "oh, nothing," said matt carelessly. "the hindoo and the girl have always been something of a mystery to me, and i wanted to find out what you knew about them. where did they come from?" "give it up. i never look into the past of people who hire out to me. if they're capable, and do their work, that's enough. from what mcglory said, and from what i've seen, ben ali appears to have been sneaking around here, listening to what you and your friends were saying. if he hadn't inadvertently touched the keyboard of the calliope we shouldn't have known he was under the cover. have you any notion what he means by that sort of work?" "no." "well, it's deuced queer, and that's all i can say. do you think he ought to be bounced?" "yes, but i wouldn't do it." "on haidee's account?" "partly that; partly, too, because, if you keep him on the pay roll, we may be able to learn something about him and the girl. i'm a bit curious about them, burton." "it's a bad habit--this of getting too curious. it's dollars and cents for me to have the two with the show. what's more," and his remarks took a more personal turn, "it's money in my pocket to have the _comet_ go up this afternoon with haidee shooting roman candles from the trapeze. when are you going to get busy with the repairs?" "after i eat something." "well, rush the work, matt. do the best you can." "it won't be haidee who rides the trapeze next time the _comet_ takes to the air," said the king of the motor boys firmly. "well, archie le bon, then," returned burton, with much disappointment. as he went out, mcglory came in, passing him in the entrance. "nothing doing," reported the cowboy. "where the hindoo went is a conundrum. i couldn't find anybody about the grounds who had even seen him since he walked haidee away from the burning aëroplane." while mcglory, disgusted with his ill success and the turn events were taking, there on the banks of the wabash, slumped down on a bucket and mopped his perspiring face, motor matt dropped into a brown study. "these hindoos are crafty fellows, joe," he remarked, after a while. "they're clever at a great many things we americans don't understand anything about. i knew one of them once. he was the servant of a man who happened to be the uncle of one of the finest young fellows that ever stepped--brave dick ferral. this particular hindoo i was able to study at close range." "what are you leading up to by this sort of talk?" asked mcglory, cocking his head on one side and squinting his eyes. he had this habit when anything puzzled him. "i'm leading up to the element of mystery that hangs over the events of to-day. india is a land of mystery. the people are a dreamy set, and now and then one of them will go off into the woods, or the desert, and spend several years as a devotee. when he comes back to civilization again he's able to do wonderful things. i've heard that these fakirs can throw a rope into the air and that it will hang there; and that they can make a boy climb the rope, up, and up, until he disappears. then rope, boy, and all but the fakir will vanish." "fakes," grunted joe. "such things ain't in reason, pard. you know what a fakir is in this country, and i reckon he's not much better in india." "of course it's a fake," said matt, "but it's a pretty smooth piece of magic. the hindoo devotees could give hermann and all the other magicians cards and spades and then beat them out." "i'm blamed if i can see yet where all this talk of yours leads to." "i'm only, what you might call, thinking out loud," laughed matt. "haidee's actions puzzle me. her uncle is a hindoo, and he may be an adept in magic. if he is, just how much has the girl's queer actions to do with ben ali? it's something to think about. i'm glad burton isn't going to cut loose from the hindoo and the girl. the more i see of them, the more curious i'm becoming." "ben ali, pard," grinned mcglory, "is a little bit curious about us, i reckon, from the way he's pryin' around. how do you account for that?" matt shook his head. "i can't account for it, joe, but perhaps we'll be able to do so later." he got up. "how about something to eat?" he asked. "we'll have to have dinner, then take something to the boys, and get busy patching up the aëroplane." "did you ever know me to shy at a meal?" asked mcglory, promptly getting up. "we'll hit the chuck layout, and then----" it was nearly time for the doors to open, and inside and out the two big "tops" there was a bustle of preparation. the "spielers" in the ticket stands at the side-show were yelling, people were crowding about the ticket wagon, where they were to buy pasteboards admitting them to the "big show," and a band was playing in the road beyond the grounds. above all these various sounds there came a call, wild and frantic. it reached the ears of the two boys in the calliope tent with strange distinctness, and cut mcglory short while he was talking. "helup! helup, somepody, or i vas a goner!" the cowboy gave a jump for the door, only a foot or two behind matt. "was that your dutch pard?" cried mcglory. "it was his voice, plain enough," answered matt, looking around sharply. "what could have gone wrong with him?" "i can't imagine--here, in broad daylight, with the grounds full of people." "it's trouble of the worst kind if we're to take the words as they sounded." matt believed this fully. carl pretzel was not the lad to give a false alarm, and he had clearly put his whole heart into the words matt and mcglory had heard. "where did the call come from?" went on mcglory, mystified. "it seemed to come from everywhere, and from nowhere," replied matt. "look into the menagerie tent, joe." while mcglory was lifting the canvas and taking a look through the animal show, matt rounded the outside of the lean-to, searching every place with keen eyes. carl was nowhere to be found. as matt drifted back toward the door of the calliope tent, mcglory emerged and joined him. "he's not mixed up with the animals," reported the cowboy. "and i can't get any trace of him out here," said matt. "let's walk over to the aëroplane. carl and ping were to watch the machine, and i'm pretty sure neither of them would leave it without orders unless something pretty serious had gone wrong." vaguely alarmed, the two chums pushed their way through the crowd toward the place where the _comet_ had been left. chapter ix. black magic. while the parade was passing through town, carl had been "sleuthing." the fact that he was wearing mcglory's working clothes gave him an idea. he didn't look like himself, so why not be some one else? all the detective books he had ever read had a good deal to say about disguises. carl was already disguised, so he made up his mind that he would be a dago laborer. after watching the parade file out of the show grounds, he slouched over to the side-show tent. a man was just finishing lacing the picture of a wild man to the guy ropes. carl shuffled up to him. "i peen der idaliano man," he remarked, in a wonderful combination of dutch and italian dialect, "und i, peen make-a der look for a leedl-a gal mit der name oof manners. haf-a you seen-a der girl aroundt loose some-a-veres?" the canvasman looked carl over, and then, being of a grouchy disposition, and thinking carl was trying to make fun of him, he gave him a push that landed him against a banner containing a painted portrait of the elastic-skin man. the banner was even more elastic than the image it bore on its surface, for carl rebounded and struck one of the "barkers," who happened to be passing with his hands full of ice-cream cones for the bearded lady and the zulu chief. disaster happened. the "barker" fell, with the dutch "tedectif" on top of him--and the ice-cream cones in between. the "barker" indulged in violent language, and began using his hands. carl was pretty good at that himself, and retaliated. two canvasmen pulled the two apart. carl had the contents of a cone in his hair, and the "barker" had the contents of another down the back of his neck. "where'd that ijut come from?" yelled the "barker," dancing up and down among the broken cones. "who left der cage toor oben?" cried carl, digging at his hair. "der papoon vas esgaped." "you put up your lightning rod," growled the "barker," "or you'll git hit with a large wad of electricity." "come on mit it!" whooped carl, fanning the air with his fists. "no vone can make some ice-gream freezers oudt oof me mitoudt hafing drouples!" "that'll do you," snorted the canvasman who had hold of carl, and thereupon raced him for twenty feet and gave him a shove that turned him head over heels across a guy rope. "dot's der vay," mourned carl, picking himself up and gathering in his hat. "der tedectif pitzness comes by hardt knocks, und nodding else. vere can i do some more?" his head felt cold and uncomfortable, even after he had mopped it dry with a red cotton handkerchief. he went over to the horse tent. the tent was nearly empty, all the live stock except a trick mule being in the parade. the mule would not have been there, but he was too tricky to trust in the procession. a man with a red shirt, and his sleeves rolled up, sat on a bale of hay close to the mule. the man was smoking. "hello, vonce," flagged carl. "hello yourself," answered the man. "i peen some idaliano mans," remarked carl, "und i vas make-a der look for markaret manners, yes. haf-a you seen-a der gal?" "take a sneak," said the man. "she iss-a leedle-a gal aboudt so high, yes," and carl put out his hand. "i peen-a der poor idaliano man, aber i gif-a you fife tollars, py shiminy, oof-a you tell-a me where-a der gal iss." "you can't josh me," went on the man earnestly. "hike, before i knock off your block." carl continued to stand his ground and ask questions; then, the next thing he knew, the hostler had jumped up and rushed for him. carl sprang back to get out of the way, unfortunately pushing against the hind heels of the mule. the mule knew what to do, in the circumstances, and did it with vigor. carl was kicked against the man with the pipe, and that worthy turned a back somersault as neatly as any "kinker" belonging to the show. the dutch boy limped hastily around the end of the horse tent and crawled into an empty canvas wagon. the mule's heels had struck him with the force of a battering-ram, and he felt weak up and down the small of the back. besides, the wagon was a good place in which to hide from the hostler. cautiously he watched over the wagon's side. the hostler came around the side of the tent, looked in all directions, and then retired, muttering, in the direction of the bale of hay. carl chuckled as he dropped down on a roll of extra canvas, but the chuckle died in a whimper as he became conscious of his sore spots. "i vonder how cherlock holmes efer lifed to do vat he dit," he murmured, curling up on the canvas. "der tedectif pitzness iss hit und miss from vone end to der odder, und den i don'd get some revards. meppy i vill shleep und forged id." when carl woke up, he looked over the side of the wagon and saw a burning flying machine in the air, and he heard the wild yells of the crowd. probably it was the yelling that awoke him. "py shinks," he cried, "dot's my bard, modor matt! he iss purnin' oop mit himseluf. fire! fire! helup!" and carl rolled out of the wagon and raced toward the spot where the machine seemed to be coming down. mcglory, white-faced but determined, was marshaling a lot of men with buckets of water. carl dropped in. when the machine landed, he set to with the rest and helped extinguish the flames. then, after he had congratulated matt, carl and ping were placed on guard. in spite of the fact that carl had shaken hands with ping, he continued to have very little use for the chinaman. and ping, to judge from appearances, had no more use for the dutchman. they did not speak. one sat down on one side of the machine and the other sat down on the other. then a brown man, wearing an embroidered coat and a turban, drove up on a small cage wagon drawn by one horse. he got off the wagon and stepped up to carl. "how-do, sahib?" said the man. carl remembered him. he was the fellow who had been dozing on rajah's back at the river. also he was the man who had taken charge of the girl who had dropped off the trapeze when the burning aëroplane came down. carl had a startling thought--it flashed over him like an inspiration. "how you vas?" answered the dutch boy genially. "you come 'long with ben ali," said the man. "nod on your dindype," replied carl. "i vas vatching der machine for modor matt." "_you come!_" hissed ben ali. then carl noted something very remarkable. the hindoo's eyes began to blaze, and dance, and show wonderful lights in their depths. "shtop mit it!" said carl. "you peen a mesmerizer, und i don'd like dot." carl knew he couldn't be hypnotized against his will, but the hindoo's eyes were working havoc with his nerves. "_you come!_" the words of ben ali were imperative. carl, seemingly unable to remove his own eyes from the hindoo's, followed as ben ali retreated toward the wagon. at the end of the wagon ben ali made some passes with his hands in front of carl's face, then opened the door. "you get in, sahib!" carl climbed into the wagon mechanically. slam went the door and click went a key in the padlock. the _comet_ had come down from its disastrous flight at a considerable distance from the tents. there were no people in the immediate vicinity save ping. the little chinaman, on hands and knees under the lower wing of the aëroplane, was watching covertly all that took place. after locking the door of the cage wagon, ben ali took a cautious look around him. he saw no one. climbing up on one of the forward wheels, he took a slouch hat and a long linen duster from the seat, removed his embroidered coat and his turban, got into the hat and duster, climbed to the seat, picked up the reins, and drove off. ping had seen it all, but had made no attempt to interfere. and he made no attempt now. he did not like the "dutchy boy." he was afraid carl would take away from him his job with motor matt. it was with secret rejoicing, therefore, that the chinaman saw carl locked in the wagon and hauled away. "hoop-a-la!" chattered ping, as he returned to his place and once more went on watch. the wagon used by ben ali, on this momentous occasion, was technically known as the monkey wagon. two of the monkeys had eaten something which did not agree with them, and had died in indianapolis. the three that remained had been taken out and put in another cage, with a collection known as "the happy family." this, of course, left the monkey wagon empty. burton was figuring on using it for one of the ant-eaters, but there were some repairs to be made before the wagon could be put to that use. the repairs dragged, and so ben ali found his opportunity to use the cage. straight across the show grounds drove the disguised hindoo. none of the employees who saw him recognized him or questioned his right to use the monkey wagon. different gangs had different duties, and no one knew but that this strange driver was off to town on some important mission. ben ali drove within a hundred feet of the calliope tent. when he was well beyond it, a yell came from inside the wagon. "helup! helup, somepody, or i vas a goner!" a shiver ran through ben ali. he made ready to leap from the wagon, but thought better of it when he saw that the call had attracted no attention and was not repeated. "sahib keep still!" he called, kicking the end of the wagon with his heels. and thus, with not a sound coming from the interior of the monkey wagon, the artful hindoo adept drove into the road and headed the horse away from the town and into the country. chapter x. the mahout's flight. when matt and mcglory, hurrying to the aëroplane to make inquiries concerning carl, came within sight of ping, they saw him calmly occupied twirling a set of jackstones. "ping!" called matt. "awri'!" answered ping, slipping the jackstones into a pocket of his blouse and immediately getting up. "where's carl?" "dutchy boy no good. him lun away." "run away?" echoed mcglory. "here's a slam! when and how, ping?" "ben ali dlive 'lound in wagon. him say to dutchy boy, 'you come.' dutchy boy makee come chop-chop. ben ali shuttee do', put on melican coat, melican hat, makee dlive off. woosh! dutchy boy no good." this offhand description of what had happened to carl was received with startled wonder by matt and mcglory. "when was this?" demanded matt. "plaps fi' minit, plaps ten minit. no gottee clock, motol matt; no savvy time." "you say ben ali drove up in a wagon?" "dlive up in monkey wagon. put dutchy boy in monkey wagon." "and then he locked carl inside?" "allee same." "and took off his turban and embroidered coat and replaced them with another hat and coat?" "melican hat, plenty long coat." "wouldn't that rattle your spurs, pard?" murmured mcglory. "what did ben ali do?" went on matt, resolved to get at the bottom of the matter, if possible. "him makee funny look with eye," replied ping. "by klismus! him blame' funny look. one piecee devil shine in eye." "hypnotized!" grunted mcglory. "you can't easily hypnotize a person against his will," averred matt. "it's not hard to guess that carl was a good way from being willing to go with ben ali." "what the dickens did ben ali want to run off carl for?" queried mcglory. "this business gets more and more mysterious, joe," returned matt, "the farther we go into it." "and that yell we heard!" "that certainly came from carl. ben ali must have driven past the calliope tent while we were talking inside. the fact that carl gave a yell for help proves that he wasn't wholly hypnotized." "he may have come out from under the influence just long enough to give a whoop," suggested the cowboy. "let's go back and hunt up burton," said matt. "he'll want his monkey wagon, and, of course, we've got to get hold of carl." "it's news to discover that ben ali is a hypnotist," observed mcglory, as he and matt whirled and started to retrace the ground over which they had just passed. "i told you these hindoos were a crafty set," answered matt. the doors were open and the crowd was vanishing inside the big tents. the grounds were not so congested with people as they had been, and it was easier to get about and hunt for burton. as it chanced, they ran plump into the manager just as they were rounding the dressing tent at the end of the circus "top." burton was red and perspiring, and there was wrath in his face. "i've been looking all around for you fellows," he cried. "you can run one of these here buzz-wagons, can't you, matt?" "yes," replied matt, "but----" "come along," interrupted burton, grabbing matt by the arm, "we haven't any time to spare." "wait!" protested matt, drawing back. "have you seen----" "can't wait," fumed burton. "i've hired a chug-car; and there's a race on. haidee has skipped. aurung zeeb, one of the other hindoo mahouts, has helped her get away. they've taken my runabout. confound such blooming luck, anyhow!" here was news, and no mistake. ben ali running off with carl, and aurung zeeb taking to the open with the showman's kentucky cob and rubber-tired buggy! "do you know where aurung zeeb and haidee went?" asked matt. "i haven't the least notion," was the wrathful answer, "but we've got to find them. i don't care a straw about zeeb, or the girl, but that runabout rig is worth six hundred dollars, just as it stands." "well, if you don't know which way the rig went," argued matt, "it's foolish to go chasing them and depending on luck to point the way." "we've got to do something!" declared burton. "where's ben ali?" "oh, hang ben ali! i haven't seen him since he flashed that knife in my face." "we've just discovered," proceeded matt, "that he has skipped out, too, and taken your monkey wagon along." "sure of that?" "ping just told us. not only that, burton, but he took my dutch pard--the lad that came this morning--with him. carl was locked in the cage." "worse and worse," ground out burton. "how'd ben ali ever manage to do that?" "on the face of it, i should say that ben ali had hypnotized carl." "nonsense! what does an elephant driver know about hypnotism? still, this begins to look like a comprehensive plan to steal a monkey wagon and a runabout and leave me in the lurch. what do you think of that haidee girl to do a thing like this? she seemed mighty anxious to earn money, yet here she skips out with about a hundred in cash to her credit." "it's hard to understand the turn events have taken," said matt. "but i wouldn't blame haidee too much until you know more about her--and about ben ali." "i want my horses and my rolling stock," fretted burton. "the rest of the outfit can go hang, if i get back the plunder." "you said something about an automobile," said matt. "there's a car here, and the man that owns it is seeing the show. he said i could have the use of the car all afternoon for fifty dollars. he thought i was an easy mark, and i let him think so. he's got the money and i've got the car. after he'd gone inside, i happened to remember that i couldn't run the thing, so i chased off looking for you. here we are," and the three, who had been walking in the direction of the road, came to the side of a large automobile. it was a good machine, with all of six cylinders under the hood. "if you're a mind reader, and can tell where we ought to go, burton," said motor matt, "i'll get you there. i feel right at home when i'm in the driver's seat of a motor car." "wait till i ask somebody," and burton whirled and flew away. "gone to have some fortune teller read his palm," laughed mcglory. "oh, but he's wild when he gets started." "i don't blame him for worrying," said matt. "he was offered four hundred, spot cash, for that kentucky cob, in indianapolis. shouldn't wonder if he stood to lose a thousand dollars if the runaways can't be overhauled. and he hasn't much time to overhaul them, either, joe. the three sections of the show train have got to be on the move toward south bend by three in the morning. i'm worried some myself, on carl's account. what has that crafty mahout got at the back of his head? i wish i knew. you and i are going to stay right here in lafayette until we can find out something about carl." "sure we are," agreed the cowboy heartily. "but here comes burton, and he looks as though he'd found out something." "one of the canvasmen," announced burton breathlessly, as he came up with the boys, "says that he saw the monkey wagon heading south into the country. can't find out which way the runabout headed, but we'll take after the other outfit. get in and drive the machine for all you're worth." matt passed around in front, and was pleased with the business-like manner in which the motor took up its cycle. "here's where we throw in the high-speed clutch and scoot," said matt, settling into the driver's seat with a glad feeling tingling along his nerves. it had suddenly occurred to him that he would rather motor in a high-powered car than do anything else that had so far claimed his attention. in such a machine, "miles were his minions and distance his slave." "here we go," he finished, and away bounded the car. matt took time to wonder at the nature of a plutocrat who, for fifty dollars, would trust such a beautiful piece of mechanism in the hands of a showman. but the fact was accomplished, and guesses at the reason were futile. they came to a hill--a steepish kind of a hill, too--and they went over it without a change of gear. motor matt laughed exultantly. "took it on the high speed!" he cried. "a car that can do that is a corker." on the opposite side of the hill, as they were scorching down with the speedometer needle playing around the fifty-eight mark, a team and wagon containing a farmer and his family were almost backed off the road. matt tampered with the brakes, but the car was going too fast to feel the bind of the brake grip. "never mind!" cried burton, from his place at matt's side. "that outfit is going to the show to-night. if i see 'em, i'll pass 'em all in with fifty-cent chairs. now, boy, hit 'er up. i've got to recover my property before night sets in, and this may be a long chase." "long chase!" yelped mcglory derisively from the tonneau. "how can it be a long chase when we're going like this? hang on to your hair, burton! mile-a-minute matt's at the steering wheel." chapter xi. the paper trail. the coils hummed merrily to the six-cylinder accompaniment. the wind whistled and sang in the ears of the three who were plunging along at a speed which was bound to get them somewhere in short order. then, as might be expected, something happened. it was no accident to the car. the road spread apart in two equally well-traveled branches, and matt shut off and came to a stop at the forks. "the canvasman, of course," said the young motorist, looking around at burton, "couldn't tell you which fork the monkey wagon would take." "here's a go!" muttered burton. "if we take one fork, we may be hustling off on the wrong scent. at a guess, i should say take the right-hand branch." "let's not do any guessing until we have to," matt returned. "my cowboy chum here is a good hand at picking up trails. show us how they do it in arizona, joe." mcglory was out of the car in a flash and giving his attention to the surface of the road. "you might as well try to hunt for the print of a rabbit's foot in the trail of a herd of stampeded steers," said mcglory, after five precious minutes spent in fruitless examination. "what sort of a cowboy are you, anyhow?" scoffed burton. "well, look," answered mcglory. "the ground is all cut up with people coming to the show, and it's none too soft. i couldn't pick out the tread of a traction thrashing machine in all this jumble of prints." "any one coming on either road?" queried burton, standing up and looking. "if there is, we could inquire as to whether they'd passed the monkey wagon." "see any one?" asked matt. "not a soul," and the showman plumped disappointedly down in his seat. "just a minute, joe," interposed matt, as the cowboy was about to climb back into the tonneau. "what's that white object in the road?" matt pointed as he spoke. "there's one, just over the left-hand fork, and another beyond it." "if you stop to bother with paper scraps," cried burton, "we'll never get anywhere." mcglory, however, turned back and picked up the object to which matt had called his attention. it was a scrap of paper, just as burton had said. the scrap was a ragged square, as though it had been roughly torn, and measured about two inches across. the cowboy examined it casually at first, then his face changed, and he gave it closer attention. "my handwriting," he declared, looking up at matt. "how can that be?" scoffed burton. "i don't know how it can be," replied mcglory, "but it's a fact, all the same. i had a memorandum book, and have jotted down various things in it." "where'd you leave the memorandum book?" jested the showman impatiently; "in the monkey wagon?" "nary, i didn't. i left it in the hip pocket of my working clothes." "and carl had on the clothes!" exclaimed matt, with a jubilant ring in his voice. "carl must have scattered that trail for our benefit." he stood up in the automobile and looked back over the road they had traveled. "why," he went on, "we haven't been as observing as we should have been. there's a paper trail, and carl must have started it pretty soon after the monkey wagon left the show grounds." "well, well!" muttered burton. "say, matt, that dutch chum of yours is quite a lad, after all. the idea of his thinking of that." "carl always has his head with him," declared matt. "climb in, joe. the left fork for ours." mcglory pulled the crank, before he got in, for the stop had killed the engine. "it's a cinch," said mcglory, as he resumed his place in the tonneau, "that carl wasn't hypnotized when he dropped those scraps. how _could_ he drop 'em? that's what beats me. why, he was locked in, so ping said." "there was a hole in the floor," explained burton. "not a very big one, but big enough for an ant-eater to get a foot through. i was going to repair the cage, but haven't had time to attend to it." "why didn't carl yell again?" went on mcglory. "if he had yelled long enough, and loud enough, some one would have been bound to hear him and stop ben ali." "this is another case where carl's using his head," put in matt. "he's playing some dodge or other." "he's showing up a whole lot stronger than i ever imagined he could," said the cowboy. "i had sized him up for a two-spot at any sort of headwork. got my opinion, i reckon, from the way those chicago detectives fooled him." "he's not so slow as you imagine, joe," said matt. "now keep an eye out for scraps!" "we can't get into a scrap with those hindoos any too quick to suit me," laughed mcglory, hanging out over the side of the motor car. once more the whirling, headlong rush of the car was resumed. no sooner had burton, or mcglory, discovered a bit of white in the roadway ahead than it was lost to sight behind. then, after four or five miles of this, the three in the car raised an object, drawn up at the roadside, which brought the car to a halt. the object was the monkey wagon, horse gone from the shafts, rear door swinging open, and not a soul in the vicinity. "here's another queer twist," grumbled burton, as all three got out to make a close survey of the wagon. "what do you think of it, matt?" matt and mcglory thrust their heads in at the door. "phew!" gurgled the cowboy, drawing back. "there's a mineral well, in lafayette, that's a dead ringer for the smell inside that cage wagon." "i haven't had it swabbed out yet," apologized burton. "here's the hole where carl dropped out the paper scraps," matt called, from inside the wagon. "and here's something else, pard!" yelled mcglory. matt came out of the wagon and found his cowboy chum calling burton's attention to marks in the road. "what do you make of it, joe?" asked matt, coming closer. "well," answered mcglory, reading the "signs," "a one-horse buggy with rubber tires stopped here, alongside the monkey wagon. look how the road's tramped up, ahead there. the horse was restive during the halt, and did some pawing." "great guns!" murmured burton. "my runabout!" "i think it's pretty clear now," observed matt. "aurung zeeb and haidee didn't get away at the same time ben ali and carl did, or else they took a different course. anyhow, they came up with the wagon. the runabout's faster, so the whole party went on with it." "they might get three people into the runabout, by crowding," said burton, "but they never could get four people into it." "that's why the horse was taken from the monkey wagon," went on matt. "aurung zeeb or ben ali must have ridden the animal." "by jove, king, i wish i had your head for getting at things! that was the way of it--it _must_ have been the way of it. let's pile back into the machine and hustle on." they all felt that the chase was drawing to a close. the runabout was a faster vehicle than the monkey wagon, but there was not the ghost of a show for the kentucky horse getting away from the automobile. from that point on, the paper trail was not in evidence. "carl wasn't able to drop any more scraps," said matt. "when he was inside the monkey wagon he was out of sight and could do about as he pleased; crowded into the runabout with ben ali and haidee, and with aurung zeeb riding behind, he couldn't possibly drop a clue to guide us." "the dutchman seems to have taken it for granted that he'd be followed," hazarded burton. "he knows very well," returned matt, "that i wouldn't stand around and let him worry through this run of hard luck alone. look out for the runabout. the way i figure it, the rig can't be more than ten or fifteen minutes ahead of us." "how do you figure it, matt?" asked burton. "well, from the time joe and i heard carl call for help. i don't believe it was more than half an hour from that time until we were hitting the high places with this automobile. eh, joe?" "no more than that, pard," answered mcglory. "i should think we'd have gained more than fifteen or twenty minutes on the hindoos, the rate we've been coming," remarked burton. "possibly we have. if that's so, then the runabout can't be even ten minutes ahead of us. now----" "runabout!" yelled mcglory. he was standing up in the tonneau and peering ahead. the road, at this point, was bordered with heavy timber on both sides, but in half a minute matt and burton could each see the vehicle to which the cowboy had called their attention. it wasn't a runabout, as it proved, but a two-seated "democrat" wagon, drawn by a team, and conveying another party townward--presumably for the evening performance of the big consolidated. mcglory's disappointment was keen. and his feelings, for that matter, were matched by those of motor matt and burton. matt halted the automobile and, when the wagon came alongside, asked the driver if he had been passed by a runabout farther along the road. the party had come five miles on that road and, according to the driver, hadn't been passed by anything on wheels going the other way. for a space those in the automobile were in a quandary. "what's amiss?" fumed burton. "are we on the wrong track, after all, in spite of your dutch friend and his paper trail, and mcglory's reading the signs at the monkey wagon?" matt suddenly threw in the reverse and began to turn. "only one thing could have happened," he averred. "what's that?" "why, the people in the runabout must have heard us coming and turned from the road into the woods." "let her out on the back track, then!" cried burton. "if the hindoos think they've dodged us, they've probably pulled out into the road and started the other way." this seemed to have been the case, for three minutes speeding over the return trail brought those in the automobile in sight of the runabout. this time it _was_ the runabout, and no mistake, and the kentucky cob was stretching out like a race horse under the frantic plying of a whip. burton reached behind him, under his coat, and brought a revolver into view. "we'll find out about this business before we're many minutes older!" he exclaimed grimly. chapter xii. carl turns a trick. something has been said about carl pretzel having an idea that was almost an inspiration, at the time he was approached by the hindoo at the aëroplane. this it was that led him into the monkey wagon. the slam of the door and the grate of the key in the padlock struck a sudden tremor to the dutch boy's heart. was he making a fool of himself or not? would a trained detective have proceeded in that manner? his heart failed him, and he gave the wild yell for help. he had hardly given the cry before he repented of it. what would motor matt think of his nerve if he could know the game he had embarked upon, and how he had been stampeded in playing it? no; if that call had done no harm, carl would not repeat it. he would see the business through and try and match wits with the hindoo. in spite of the noise on the show grounds, carl heard ben ali's heels bang against the end of the wagon, and also the stern voice commanding him to keep silent. carl kept silent. he was almost smothered by the closeness of his prison chamber, and the terrific odor that assailed him, but he comforted himself with the thought that detectives don't always have things their own way when they're tracking down a criminal. anyhow, even his present discomfort was better than the hard knocks his "sleuthing" had so far given him. he was not long in discovering the hole in the floor of the wagon. the memorandum book he had discovered soon after getting into the borrowed clothes. of course he knew that motor matt would follow him! that was the kind of fellow the king of the motor boys was; never had he turned his back on a pard in distress. carl, too, was morally certain that ping had seen him get into the monkey wagon. motor matt would discover this from the chinaman, and then would come the pursuit. the thing for carl to do was to point the way by which he had been carried off. the hole in the floor, and the memorandum book in his pocket, were not long in giving him the right tip. sitting down on the bottom of the cage, carl occupied himself in tearing the leaves of the book into scraps and poking the scraps through the opening. how far ben ali drove carl did not know, but it seemed as though the hindoo had been hours on the road. there was a pain in carl's back, where the mule had left its token of remembrance, and the jolt of the wagon was far from pleasant. presently there came the rapid beat of a horse's hoofs, a whir of wheels, and a sudden stop of the monkey wagon. the other sounds ceased at the same moment. for a second or two carl imagined that matt had overhauled ben ali, but this fancy was dispelled by the strange words that passed between ben ali and some one else. the mahout could be heard climbing swiftly down from his perch and moving around to the rear of the wagon. carl slipped the book into his pocket and drew away from the hole in the floor. once more the key grated in the padlock. the door was drawn open and ben ali was revealed, looming large in the rush of sunlight, a bared knife in his hand. "you come, sahib," said ben ali. carl got up and moved toward the door. there ben ali caught his eyes for a space and held them with the same weird looks indulged in near the aëroplane on the show grounds. the dutchman instantly grew automatic in his movements, keeping his eyes straight ahead and following ben ali's every gesture. carl had seen persons hypnotized, and knew how they acted. "you come," repeated ben ali sternly, and carl jumped down from the wagon. they were in a country road. there was a smart-looking horse and buggy beside the monkey wagon, and haidee was on the seat. if appearances were to be believed, she was in another of her spells. "sahib get in de buggy," ordered ben ali. carl climbed over the wheel obediently and sat down beside the girl. she paid not the least attention to him, nor he to her. ben ali climbed in beside them, squeezed into the seat, and took the reins from haidee's hands. meanwhile, carl had been looking at another brown man in a turban who was unhitching the horse from the monkey wagon. ben ali waited until the horse was out of the shafts and the second hindoo on its back, then he started the kentucky cob off along the road. his companion trotted along behind. dropping any more paper scraps was out of the question. carl was too tightly wedged in between ben ali and haidee to use his hands; besides, he could not have made a move that would not instantly have been seen. presently the hindoo on the horse called out something in his unknown jargon. ben ali answered, and the runabout was turned from the road and into the woods. possibly they proceeded a hundred feet into the timber. at the end of that distance their progress was halted by a creek with steep banks. ben ali got out. while standing on the ground facing carl, he made sinuous movements with his slim brown hands--passes, most probably, designed to keep carl in a hypnotic state. the girl shuddered, suddenly, and drew a hand across her eyes. "uncle ben!" she exclaimed, with a sharp cry, "where am i?" "you are safe," said ben ali. "you are not to work with de trapeze any more, not be with de show any more. we are quit with de show. _kabultah, meetoowah?_" "yes, yes," breathed the girl, "i understand. but where are we going? i don't want to be in a trance any more. i want to know what i say, what i do--all the time." the man's face hardened. "you come, haidee," he said, gently but none the less firmly. the girl got up and climbed down from the wagon. "sahib!" he cried sharply. "you come, too." carl likewise climbed to the ground. "you are asleep," went on ben ali, coming up to carl and bringing his face close. "you know not anything what you do. sit!" carl sank down on the bank of the creek. the other hindoo had dismounted. stepping away from his horse, he turned the runabout rig the other way, so that the cob faced the road. then he tied the animal. meanwhile, ben ali, seating himself cross-legged on the ground, had drawn a small black box from his breast. it was a lacquered box and shone like ebony in the gleam of sun that drifted down through the trees. haidee uttered an exclamation and stretched out her hands. "it is mine, uncle ben! it belongs to me." "yis, _meetoowah_," agreed ben ali, "it belong to you, but i keep it. that is safer, better." he put down the box and listened, hissing to attract the attention of the other hindoo. "aurung zeeb!" the other turned, and ben ali motioned toward the road. the sound of an approaching motor car broke the stillness. it grew rapidly in volume, passed a point abreast of those in the woods, and went on, dying away in the distance. excitement shone in the faces of the hindoos, and there was alarm in the face of the girl. "what is it?" she cried. "uncle ben----" "silence, _meetooowah_!" commanded the hindoo. taking the lacquered box in his hand, ben ali leaped erect and chattered wildly with aurung zeeb. after that, he came to carl, his face full of anxiety and alarm, and made more passes. "you come," he ordered, "get back in de buggy." carl followed as ben ali backed away in the direction of the runabout. the hindoo stood close to the wheel until carl was in the seat. at that moment a smothered scream came from haidee. aurung zeeb jumped toward her, letting go the bridle of his horse as he did so. ben ali muttered something under his breath, put the lacquered box on the runabout seat beside carl, and started toward aurung zeeb and the girl. "you must tell me what you are doing," panted the girl, facing the hindoos with flashing eyes. "that is boss burton's horse and buggy. why have you got the rig here? what are we doing here? tell me, uncle ben! i must know." ben ali tried to quiet her. carl was in a quiver. the lines were twined about the whip on the dashboard of the runabout, and both hindoos were fully fifteen feet away. it looked like a propitious moment for escape. carl had not accomplished much, but he was patting himself on the back because of the way he had fooled ben ali. now, if he could get away, and take the runabout with him---- carl never thought very long over any proposition. nor did he give much time to this. swooping down on the dashboard, he grabbed up the lines and the whip. "gid ap mit yourself!" he yelled, and struck the horse. with a snort the animal bounded forward, breaking the strap that secured him to the tree and almost throwing carl from the seat. the other horse took fright and bounded away, while carl went lurching and plunging in a wild dash for the road. how he ever reached the road without coming to grief against the many trees he grazed in his dash was something which would have puzzled a wiser head than his. he paid not the least attention to the hindoos, nor to haidee. he was thinking of carl, and trying to guess how much money he would get for bringing back the stolen horse and runabout. for once, he thought exultantly, he was making the detective business _pay_. whirling into the road, he headed the horse back toward town, plying the whip and hustling the best he knew how. it was a marvel that the runabout held together. but it did. suddenly a firearm spoke sharply from somewhere in the rear. carl did not look behind. he had but one thought, and that was that the hindoos must be phenomenal runners, and that they were chasing him on foot and firing as they came. he bent forward over the dashboard and urged the cob to a wilder pace. then, while he was using the whip, an angry voice roared from alongside the runabout: "stop lashing that horse! stop, i tell you!" carl became faintly aware that there was an automobile dashing along the road side by side with the runabout. "carl!" shouted a familiar voice. "stop your running! don't you know who we are?" then the excited dutchman became aware of the situation and pulled back on the lines. he chuckled delightedly as he jerked and sawed on the bit. he, carl pretzel, had been running away from his old pard! what a joke! and there, in the automobile with matt, was the manager of the show. it wouldn't be long, now, before carl found out how much he was to get for recovering the stolen horse and runabout. chapter xiii. the lacquered box. probably that kentucky horse of burton's had never been treated in his life as he was that afternoon. he was muddy with sweat and dust, and his high-strung spirits, by that time thoroughly aroused, rebelled against the curb. in order to help carl out, motor matt drove the car past the horse and partly across the road. this served to bring the animal to a halt. "by jove!" stormed burton, "i wouldn't have had this happen for a hundred dollars! it's a wonder if the horse isn't ruined!" he flopped out of the automobile and approached the horse's head. "whoa, colonel!" he murmured soothingly. "whoa, old boy!" then, getting one hand on the bit, he held the animal while he petted and wheedled and patted the lathered neck. "der rig vas shtole py der hindoo," said carl, "und i haf recofered it und prought it pack. dot comes oof being a goot tedectif, py shinks! how mooch iss id vort'?" "worth?" scowled burton. "if the animal is injured i'll charge you up for it. don't you know how to take care of a horse?" "don'd you vas going to pay me someding?" gasped carl. "pay?" snorted burton, in no mood to consider a reward after seeing his favorite horse mistreated. "why, i feel like i wanted to use the whip on you! what did you run away from us for?" "i t'ought you vas der hindoos," explained carl feebly. "say, matt," he added, turning to his chum, "der feller don't vas going to gif me someding! vat a miserliness! und me going droo all vat i dit!" "where did you get the runabout, carl?" asked matt. he thought boss burton was a little unreasonable, but was not disposed to make any comments. burton's ways were sometimes far from meeting matt's approval--and they had never been farther from it than during the events of that exciting day. "i shteal him from der hindoos," said carl, "und make some gedavays by der shkin oof my teet', you bed you! i hat to run der horse, matt, oder i vouldn't have made der esgape. vone oof der hindoos had a knife, und dey vas bot' det safage i can't dell. der odder horse vat pulled der cage vagon iss somevere aheadt. he got avay und vent like some shdreaks." "you climb down," snapped burton, coming back to the side of the runabout. "i'll take the rig back to the grounds and send one of the teamsters for the monkey wagon. you'll bring along the automobile, matt?" he added, getting into the runabout as carl got out. "yes," answered matt. "ain't you going on with us to look up the hindoos and haidee?" asked mcglory. "going to hang back before we run out the trail, burton?" "i don't care anything about them," was the reply, "so long as i've recovered my own property. what's this?" and the showman picked up the lacquered box. carl stared at it. evidently he had forgotten all about it, up to that moment. "py chimineddy!" he muttered. "dot's der hindoo's! he tropped id on der seat pefore i run avay mit der rig." "then i'll take it with me," said burton. "perhaps it's of enough value so that the rascal will come after it. if he does, i can read the riot act to him." "i guess you'd better leave that with carl, burton," spoke up matt. "you don't care to bother with the hindoos, and we may think it's worth while." "oh, well, if that's the way you feel about it," and the showman tossed the box to carl. "mind," he added, as he started off, "you're not to get into any trouble with that automobile." burton was soon out of sight. "he's the limit, that fellow!" growled mcglory. "he might have tipped carl a five-case note, but he wouldn't. he's a skinner." "nodding doing in der tedectif pitzness," said carl resignedly, getting into the automobile beside matt. "same like alvays i ged der vorst oof id. vile vorking on der manners gase, i haf peen in a row mit ping, in a row mit a canvasman und a 'parker' for der site-show, in some more rows mit a shtable feller, got kicked in der pack mit a mu-el, und carried avay in some vagons vat shmelled like a glue factory. und vat i ged? dot purton feller he say he vould like to pound me mit der vip. ach, vell, ve can't pecome greadt tedectifs mitoudt a leedle hardt luck at her shtart." "tell us what happened to you, carl," said matt, "and be quick about it." carl sketched his adventures, with now and then an urging toward brevity from matt. "ven i see dot hindoo coming, at der time he made some brisoners oof me," expounded carl, on reaching that part of his recital, "i remempered der girl vat come down in der flying machine, und vat he valked avay mit, und i got der t'ought, like lightning, dot meppy der feller know someding aboudt markaret manners, vat iss atverdised for in der lonton baper. abner nit, it don'd vas der case. i schust let meinseluf pertend dot i vas mesmerized so dot i could go along by der hindoo und meppy findt oudt someding. i don't findt oudt anyt'ing." carl's disgust was great, and he brought his story to a quick conclusion. "we'll go look for the hindoos and haidee," said matt. "as i jog along, carl, you keep watch for the place where you turned from the road. meanwhile, joe," matt added, "you take the lacquered box and open it. we'll see what's inside. the contents may shed a little light on this mystery of the girl." "der hindoos und der girl von't be vere dey vas," remarked carl, handing the box to mcglory. "they can't possibly be far away," answered matt. "they have to travel on foot, now, and will be compelled to go slow." "this box is locked, pard," called mcglory. "force the lid, then," said matt. "it's necessary, according to my notion, that we try and find out something about haidee. and for the girl's good." mcglory opened his pocketknife and inserted the blade between the box and the lid. the lock splintered out under pressure. "she's open, pard," announced the cowboy. "what's inside?" "a bundle of letters tied with a piece of twine." "ah!" "they have english stamps," went on mcglory, "and are postmarked at london." "better and better! and they're addressed to----" "miss margaret manners, calcutta, india." carl nearly fell off the seat. "ach, du lieber!" he sputtered, "i vas ketching my breat'. a clue, py shinks! dot haidee knows vere der fife-t'ousant-tollar girl iss, i bed you!" "knows where the girl is?" echoed matt. "sure t'ing. how vouldt haidee haf markaret manners' ledders oof she ditn't know somet'ing aboudt der english girl? a few more knocks, py shiminy, und i vill make der fife t'ousant tollars!" "carl," said matt, "you've got a wooden head when it comes to sleuthing. why, haidee is margaret manners herself. i've had a hunch to that effect for two or three hours." once more carl had to hold on with both hands to keep from going by the board. he could only breathe hard and think of what he would do with all the money that was coming to him. "what else is there in the box, joe?" asked matt. "anything but the letters?" "just one thing, pard," replied mcglory. "it looks like a decoration of some kind." mcglory held the object over matt's shoulder, so he could see it. it was a bronze maltese cross, with a royal crown in the centre surmounted by a lion, and the words "for valour" stamped on the cross under the crown. the cross hung from a v-shaped piece attached to a bar, and the bar was attached to a faded red ribbon. across the bar was engraved the name "lionel manners." "i feel like taking off my hat in the presence of that, pards," said matt. "why?" demanded joe. "it's a victoria cross," returned matt, "and is only given to persons for a deed of gallantry and daring. when the ribbon is red, it shows that the winner of the cross belonged to the army; when blue, to the navy. captain lionel manners must have been a brave man, and it's a pity his daughter should be treated as she has been. carl, you've blundered onto a big thing--and you couldn't have blundered so successfully once in a thousand times. put the letters and the cross back in the box, joe. we'll keep them safe for the girl. if----" "dere's der blace," interrupted carl, pointing to the roadside. motor matt brought the automobile to a stop. chapter xiv. the hypnotist's victim. "you and i will go and look for the hindoos, joe," said matt, getting out of the car. "carl will stay here and take care of the automobile." "vat oof der hindoos ged avay from you und come ad me?" queried carl, in a panic. "i bed you dey vas sore ofer vat i dit." "if they should happen to attack you," answered matt, "run away from them. you used to know something about driving a car, carl." "all righdt," said carl, with deep satisfaction. "i'll run avay from some drouples oof any come in my tirection. look oudt for ben ali. he has a knife." matt and mcglory, after securing a few further directions from carl, started into the woods on their way to the creek. they moved warily in single file, matt taking the lead. as they made their way onward, they saw evidences of carl's wild dash for the road in the runabout, broken bushes and trees blazed at about the height of a buggy axle. "it's a wonder that runabout wasn't strung all the way from the creek to the road," murmured mcglory. "the dutchman's luck has landed on him all in a bunch." "carl has a knack for blundering in the right direction," said matt. "but he has as much grit as you'll find in any lad of his size. think how he fooled that ben ali! made the hindoo believe he was hypnotized." "and carl had only the faintest notion what he was doing it for!" chuckled mcglory. "say, pard, i'd like to have seen those hindoos when carl woke up and used the whip on that horse of burton's." "hist!" warned matt, "we're close to the creek." there were evidences in plenty that the bank of the creek had been recently occupied--broken bushes and an imprint of human feet in the damp soil. as matt and mcglory had supposed, however, there was no sign of haidee or the hindoos in the vicinity. "here's where we're up a stump, pard," said mcglory. "i wonder if i could pick up the trail and find which way the outfit went?" "try it," said matt. mcglory skirmished around for ten minutes. "i reckon i've got it," he announced, at the end of that time. "unless i'm far wide of my trail, matt, they went down the creek." "then that's the direction for us. step off, joe, and be lively." although the boys believed the hindoos and haidee must be far in advance of them, yet they moved forward cautiously, being exceedingly careful not to rustle the bushes as they passed or to step on any twigs that would crackle under their feet. as a matter of fact, they had not been five minutes on their way down the creek before the cowboy whirled abruptly with a finger on his lips; then, motioning to matt, he dropped to his knees. matt followed suit and crept alongside mcglory. "we're in luck, too," whispered the cowboy. "they're right ahead of us, all three of them. listen, and you can hear them talking." matt raised his head and listened intently. a faint sound of voices was borne to his ears. "let's creep up on them, joe," he suggested. "they're two against us, you know, and they'll make a pretty big handful, if they're armed." "we know ben ali has a knife, but that is probably all the weapons they've got. if they had guns, then carl would never have made his getaway." redoubling their caution, the boys crawled forward, screening their advance by keeping bunches of undergrowth in front of them as much as they could. the voices grew steadily louder, until it became manifest that the brown men were jabbering in hindustani. finally the boys arrived as close as they deemed it best to go, for they had ben ali, aurung zeeb, and haidee in plain view. the three were in a little oak opening on the creek bank. haidee was sitting on a log, and the other two were standing and talking rapidly. a moment after the boys were able to see them and note what was going on, the hindoos stopping their talking. aurung zeeb drew off to one side, and ben ali stepped in front of the girl. "haidee, _meetoowah_!" he called. the girl lifted her head. "you must go into de trance, _meetoowah_," said ben ali. with a heart-breaking cry the girl flung herself on her knees in front of him. "no, no, uncle ben!" she wailed, "don't make me do things i can't remember--things i don't want to do! what happened during the parade this morning? and what happened while i was in the air with motor matt? you will not tell me and i do not know! oh, uncle ben----" "haidee!" the voice was clear and keen cut. there was something in the tones of it that lifted the girl erect and uncomplaining, and held her as by a magnet with her eyes on the snaky, dancing orbs of ben ali. the power of the hindoo over the girl must have been tremendous. the boys, shivering with horror, watched the hindoo as he waved his arms gracefully and made his sinuous passes. he was no more than a minute or two in effecting his work. by swift degrees haidee's face lost its expression and became as though graven from stone; her eyes grew dull and her whole manner listless. "haidee, you sleep," came monotonously from ben ali, as his hands dropped. "you hear me, _meetoowah_? you understand?" "yes," answered the girl, in the clacking, parrot-like voice with which the boys were somewhat familiar. "you are never to remember, _meetoowah_, what you do in de parade, or what you do on de flying machine," continued ben ali. "when you wake, you forget all that, and how i tell you to pull the lever when de parade reach de min'ral well, or pin de fireball as it smoulder to de wing of de machine. you forget all that, huh?" "yes." "you are bright, lively girl, _meetoowah_" went on the hindoo. "you are gay, happy, but you are under de power, yes, all de time. you go back to de show, and you tell them that ben ali and aurung zeeb ver' bad mans and run away with haidee, that you make de escape. then you get from boss burton the money he owe and come to linton hotel in lafayette sometime this night. you understand, _meetoowah_?" "yes." "and you not let anybody know you come to linton hotel, _meetoowah_." "no." "and at all time when you wake you forget you was margaret manners, and you remember all time when you wake that you only haidee." "yes." "also, you try get back de box that b'long to you, de little lacquered box. remember that, haidee. get de box if you can and bring it with de money to uncle ben ali at de linton hotel in lafayette." "yes." "and you all time forget when you wake dat you margaret manners, and----" something happened to the hypnotist, right then and there. unable to endure longer the scene transpiring under their eyes, the boys had crept forward until they were close to ben ali and aurung zeeb. matt, behind ben ali, arose suddenly and caught the hindoo by the shoulders, flinging him down on his back and holding him there with both hands about his throat. mcglory, it had been planned, should make a simultaneous attack, in the same manner, upon aurung zeeb; but that individual was keener-eyed than his companion. he saw mcglory just as the cowboy was about to spring. with a loud cry of warning, aurung zeeb broke away in a panic and fled into the timber. mcglory did not follow him. ben ali, choking and wriggling under the tense fingers of the king of the motor boys, had made a desperate effort and drawn his knife. the cowboy had glimpsed the blade, shimmering in a gleam of sun, and had leaped forward and caught the hindoo's hand. "we've got the scoundrel!" exulted mcglory. "i reckon this is the last stunt of this sort he'll ever lay hand to." ben ali tried to speak. matt saw the attempt and removed his rigid fingers from the prisoner's throat, slipping his hands down and gripping one of the man's arms. "hold his other arm, joe," panted matt. "i want to talk with him. i've got to talk with him. a great wrong has been done haidee, and if it is righted ben ali is the only one to do it." mcglory was puzzled, but yielded immediate obedience. "look at the girl," he whispered, as he laid both hands on the prisoner's other arm. there was a look of sharp pain in haidee's face. her hands were clutching her throat, and she was swaying where she stood. "haidee feel what you do to me," gurgled ben ali. "you hurt me, you hurt her. you do not understand de power." "he's talkin' with two tongues!" declared mcglory. "no," said matt, "he tells the truth. as i told you, joe, we've got to make use of the scoundrel for haidee's benefit. don't mind haidee--she'll be all right by the time we are through with ben ali." chapter xv. "for the sake of haidee!" motor matt knew something about hypnotism, having acquired the knowledge in the casual way most boys learn about such occult and, at times, fascinating subjects. the young motorist knew, for instance, that if it was suggested to margaret manners often enough in a hypnotic state that she was only haidee, the girl would come to forget her own personality. even when out of the trance she would be confused and bewildered in trying to recall her real name and her past life. it was to undo some of this evil that matt was eager for a talk with the hindoo. "ben ali," said matt sternly, "we have the box of letters and captain manners' victoria cross. in order to make you suffer terribly for what you have done, we have only to turn you over to the authorities and let them cable to london. there is a thousand pounds sterling offered as a reward for the recovery of margaret manners; and for you there would be a long term in prison. you understand that, don't you?" there was a crafty look on the hindoo's face as he answered. "yes, sahib. but you not do anything with me. de girl is in de trance. i have her in my power." "and we have you in our power," said matt, appreciating to the full the strong hold ben ali had on them, as well as on the girl. "but, by and by, when we have finished de talk, de young sahib will let me go." matt was deeply thoughtful for a few moments. "yes," he answered deliberately, "if you will answer my questions, and do what i tell you to do, we will let you go." "pard!" remonstrated joe. "i know what i am doing, joe," returned matt. "de young sahib is wise," put in the smiling ben ali, his eyes beginning to gleam and dance in an attempt to get the king of the motor boys under their influence. "pah!" murmured matt disgustedly. "you can hold his arm with one hand, joe. place the other hand over his eyes." "he's a fiend," growled mcglory, as his palm dropped over the upper part of ben ali's face. the hindoo laughed noiselessly. "will you talk with me frankly and answer my questions, ben ali," proceeded matt, "providing we promise to let you go?" "yes, sahib." "then, first, who are you?" "de brother of a great rajah in my own land, and de brother of de great rajah's sister. that sister married de captain manners, margaret's father." "i see," breathed matt, his eyes wandering to the girl. haidee had grown quiet, her face expressionless and her eyes staring and vacant, as before. "i, with my rich rajah brother," continued ben ali, with bitterness, "was only de driver of his elephants. no more. i work. he live in luxury and do not anything. captain manners die. then his wife, she die, too. _suttee._ she burn on de funeral pyre, as our custom is in my land. de husband die, then de widow die. margaret she live. my brother, de rajah, give me money, send me to calcutta after margaret. i go. i get de girl and we take ship to america. hah! on de way i tell margaret it is her uncle, de rajah's wish, that she go to de vassar school in america, that i follow order when i take her there. she believe what i say. on de steamer i begin de trances. she not like them, but she agree at first. by and by she not able to help herself. i tell her she not remember who she is when she wake, that she only haidee. she b'leeve." the scoundrel laughed. "i have de so great power with the eyes and the hands, sahib." "why did you join a show and take the girl with you?" demanded matt, a feeling of horror and repulsion for ben ali growing in his heart. "i have to live, sahib. my money give out. i know how to drive de elephant, so i hear of de show and go there. boss burton hire me. i speak of haidee. he hire her, too." "did she know how to perform on the trapeze--she, the niece of a powerful rajah and daughter of an english gentleman?" "she know not anything about that. i put her in de trance and tell her she know. then she perform on de trapeze better than any." "why did you want her to go up on the flying machine?" "cut it short," growled mcglory huskily. "i feel like using the knife on the villain, pard. he ain't fit to live." "you listened to me while i was talking with my friends in the calliope tent this morning," continued matt. "why was that?" "i was afraid of de dutch boy," answered ben ali, "and i was more afraid when i hear what he tell. after that, i be afraid of all of you. you understan'? i thought you take haidee away from me." "you hypnotized her before the parade and told her to do something to make me trouble?" "yes, sahib," was the prompt response. "i wanted you out of de way. i was afraid." "scoundrel!" muttered matt. "why, you placed haidee herself in danger." "i was rajah's mahout. i could have kept de elephant from hurting haidee." "was she hypnotized when she came to the aëroplane and played that trick to go up in the machine with me?" "she was, yes, sahib." "and you gave her something to be used in setting the aëroplane afire?" "yes, sahib. it was de smouldering fire ball, with de coal in its heart. when de machine go up, and de win' fan it, den by and by it break into flame and set fire to de machine." ben ali was frank, brutally frank. but he had motor matt's promise that he should go free, and he seemed to gloat over his evil deeds and to wish that not a detail be left out. "she did not act, when she was in the aëroplane, as she did when she was in the parade," said matt. "i make her act different, sahib. i tell her how she was to be. i have de so great power i do that. other fakirs not so great as ben ali." "we've heard enough," said matt. "now, as yet, you have only partly earned your freedom, ben ali. you have still to do what i shall tell you." "what is that, sahib?" "you will, by the aid of hypnotism, undo all the evil you have done, as much as possible. for instance, you will impress on haidee, as she stands there, the truth that she is margaret manners, and that she will remember it, and all her past, when she wakes. after that, you are to waken her and take yourself off." "yes," answered the hindoo. "my freedom is dear to me. perhaps"--and he smiled--"i have something yet to do with motor matt." "if you cross my path again, ben ali," returned the king of the motor boys, "there will be no promise binding me to let you go free. if you are wise, you will stay away from me and my friends, and from haidee." "i take my chance, if that is it. to awaken haidee i must be on my feet." "you will lie as you are!" declared matt sharply. "you can do your work as well this way as in any other." "i will try," said the hindoo, after a moment's pause. then, in a loud voice, he called: "haidee!" the girl turned her eyes upon him. "yes," she answered. "when you wake, _meetoowah_, you will remember that you are margaret manners." "yes." "you will remember all, everything--calcutta, your father, captain manners, your mother, your mother's brother, de rajah. but you forget ben ali, and you think no more of him. you understand?" "yes." this, in a little different language, ben ali repeated several times. "now, young sahib," said he, "let me up till i wake haidee." "hold to him on that side, joe," cautioned matt, "but give him the use of his hands. when haidee wakes, release him." "sufferin' fairy tales!" grumbled mcglory. "i hate to do it, pard, and that's honest, but i reckon, from what i've heard, that you know what you're about. it's a hard way to bring right and justice to the girl by letting this scoundrel escape the law, but there don't seem to be anything else for it." slowly the boys got up and permitted ben ali to struggle to his feet. when he was erect, both still gripped him by the waist in order to prevent him from committing any treachery. ben ali leaned forward and waved his hands. "awake, _meetoowah_!" he called sharply. "you are yourself again, margaret manners! awake!" the girl started, and lifted both hands to her temples. it was enough, and motor matt was satisfied. "let him go, joe," said matt, "but keep his knife." the boys, at the same moment, withdrew their hands and stepped back. ben ali, with a wild, snarling laugh, sprang into the woods and vanished. "what is it?" asked margaret manners, in a puzzled voice. "where am i? ah, is that you, motor matt? and joe!" "yes, sis," returned the cowboy, his voice full of gentleness, "it's your friend mcglory, and the best friend you ever had if you did but know it--motor matt." "come," said matt briskly, "we must hustle back to the automobile. carl will have a fit wondering what has become of us." chapter xvi. the rajah's niece. the events of that wonderful day all seemed like a dream to motor matt when he came to look back on them. the coming of carl, loaded with a joke sprung upon him by the detectives in chicago--a joke, by the way, that proved a boomerang--and the dangers and perils that trailed after the dutch boy and finally ended in most marvelous success--all these seemed but the figments of disordered fancy. but the damaged aëroplane remained to tell of the dangers, and carl was there in the flesh, and margaret manners was present, freed of the evil shadow that had blighted her young life. the afternoon performance had been over for some time when matt, joe, carl, and margaret--for now she must be margaret and not haidee--returned to the show grounds. the owner of the motor car was walking up and down in fretful mood, thinking, perhaps, that he had done a most unwise thing in letting his machine get out of his hands. burton was with him and seeking to pacify his fears. but the sight of the motor car alone did that. "well," exclaimed burton, "you've got one of 'em, matt. she is the most valuable of the lot, to me. where are the other two?" "they escaped," answered matt shortly. "and haidee, mr. burton, is no longer an employee of the big consolidated." "what!" cried burton. "do you mean to say she isn't going up on the aëroplane any more, and that she'll not touch off roman candles or----" "i told you she'd never do that, some time ago," said matt keenly. burton seemed to have a way of forgetting the things he did not want to hear. "well, anyhow," went on the showman, as soon as they had all alighted, and the owner of the car had got into it and tooted joyfully away, "come to the mess tent and tell me what happened." "haven't time, burton," said matt. "miss manners is going to the best hotel in town, and i've got some telegrams to send." "telegrams?" burton pricked up his ears and showed signs of excitement. "there isn't another show trying to hire you away from me, is there? don't forget your written contract, matt!" "i'm not forgetting that," returned matt, inclined to laugh. "the telegram i am going to send is to the british ambassador at washington, and the cablegram i am going to get on the wires is to an attorney in london, england." "jupiter!" exclaimed burton. "it looks to me as though you wouldn't get through in time to go on with section two of the show train." "we won't," continued matt, "and that's what i'm going to tell you about. we'll be a couple of days making repairs on the aëroplane, and we'll make them here. after the work is done, we'll join the big consolidated at the town where it happens to be at that time." "your contract, sir!" fumed burton. "you are----" "no repairs on the aëroplane would have been necessary," interrupted motor matt, "if you had not played that trick on me and substituted haidee for le bon. just remember that. i shall expect you to pay the bills for the repairs, too." burton received these remarks in silence. "when i and my friends are ready to join you," went on the king of the motor boys, "we'll go by air line in the _comet_, and if you have any good paper, we'll scatter it all along the route. it will be the biggest kind of an advertisement for you, burton." this was a master stroke, if burton yearned for one thing more than another, it was to make his name a household word. "great!" he cried. "but you won't be more than two days here, will you, matt?" "we'll try not to be." "and you'll scatter the paper?" "certainly." "fine! i'll have it for you. where'll i send it?" "to the bramble house." "it will be there. make the bill for repairs as light as possible, and draw on me for the amount. that's fair, ain't it?" "just about." "ask anybody and they'll tell you boss burton is the soul of honesty, and that every promise he makes in his paper is carried out to the letter. what will you do with the aëroplane?" "mcglory and ping will look after it to-night. tomorrow they will have it removed to some place where we can work on it comfortably." "all right--have it your way. i'm the easiest fellow to get along with that you ever saw, when i see a chap is going to treat me square. good luck to you--to all of you." the party separated. mcglory went over into the show grounds to join ping at the aëroplane, and matt and carl escorted miss manners to the bramble house. carl went to the show, when the tents were being pulled down that night, and got miss manners' trunk and his own clothes from the calliope tent. carl, it will be recalled, was wearing mcglory's work clothes, and mcglory was going to need them. most of the luggage belonging to matt and his friend went on by train with the show impedimenta, to be reclaimed at some town farther along the route. matt sent his telegram and his cablegram, and in neither did he conceal the fact that all the glory of the achievement belonged to carl pretzel. the dutch boy was terribly set up over his success. until far into the night he kept matt up, trying to find out what he should do with his five thousand dollars. carl was about evenly divided, in his opinions, as to whether he should buy an aëroplane of his own, or a circus. matt discouraged him on both points. next morning the _comet_, under its own power, dragged its battered pinions to a big blacksmith shop, and there the motor boys got actively to work on the repairs. the damage was confined almost entirely to the canvas covering the left wing. none of the supports were injured. in two days' time the aëroplane was as good as new. at the close of the second day, when matt and mcglory reached the hotel with their work finished, so far as the _comet_ was concerned, they found an english gentleman who represented the british embassy. this gentleman had come, personally, to assume charge of miss manners; and, by this very act, the boys understood that the young woman was something of a personage. the englishman said nothing about the reward, and carl began to worry. finally he broached the subject himself, only to learn that the five thousand dollars must come from india, and that it would be a month, possibly two months, before it could be turned over. carl was disgusted. he had expected to have the money all spent before two months had passed. "dot's der vay mit der tedectif pitzness," he remarked gloomily. "even ven you vin you don't get nodding." "but you're bound to get it, carl," laughed mcglory, "sooner or later." "meppy so mooch lader dot i vill be olt und gray-heated und not know nodding aboudt how to shpend him. how vas i going to lif in der meandime, huh? tell me dose." "come along with us," said matt, "and stay with the big consolidated until your money comes." "i don'd like dot purton feller," growled carl. "he iss der vorst case oof stingy vat i efer see. shdill, id iss vort' someding to be mit modor matt. yah, so helup me, i vill go." ping was not in love with this arrangement, but had to bow to it. the gentleman from washington took the next train back to the capital, arranging to have miss manners left in the care of an estimable lady in lafayette until word should come from india. the end. the next number ( ) will contain motor matt's "short circuit" or, the mahout's vow. the serpent charmer--a bad elephant--burton's luck--motor matt's courage--dhondaram's excuse--robbery--between the wagons--a peg to hang suspicions on--a waiting game--a trick at the start--in the air with a cobra--a scientific fact--ping on the wrong track--facing a traitor--meeting the hindoo--a bit of a backset motor stories thrilling adventure motor fiction new york, august , . terms to motor stories mail subscribers. (_postage free._) single copies or back numbers, c. each. months c. months c. months $ . one year . copies one year . copy two years . =how to send money=--by post-office or express money-order, registered letter, bank check or draft, at our risk. at your own risk if sent by currency, coin, or postage-stamps in ordinary letter. =receipts=--receipt of your remittance is acknowledged by proper change of number on your label. if not correct you have not been properly credited, and should let us know at once. ormond g. smith, } george c. smith, } _proprietors_. street & smith, publishers, - seventh avenue, new york city. saved by a falling tree. winter still reigned, and louis and allen wright were snowshoeing back to the lumber camp where they worked. it was a small camp upon the tobago river, near the ottawa, close to the border between the provinces of ontario and quebec, and the pine had for the most part been cut long ago. there was a little pine left, however, with a good deal of pulp wood and mixed timber to be got out, and the foreman had sent the boys to look over a patch of spruce about twelve miles from the shanty. they were returning with their axes upon the frozen tobago river, which formed a convenient roadway through the tangled and snowy canadian forest. the boys were not professional "lumber jacks," but they were both deeply desirous of acquiring a couple of hundred dollars to cover the expenses of a course in mining engineering, and that winter high wages were being offered for even inexperienced men in the lumber camps. as they were country-bred youths, they took to the work naturally, and allen, although he had not yet come to his full strength, speedily developed a surprising dexterity with the axe. he could "lay" a tree within a few inches of where he desired it to fall, and had been the instrument of victory several times in lumbering matches with rival camps. it was late in february and still bitterly cold, but the deep snow was packing and softening. in a few weeks the ice might break up, and mountains of logs were piled upon the river in readiness for the drive. about three miles before it reached the shanty the river broke into rapids for about thirty rods before it fell tumultuously over a low ridge of rocks. it was necessary to make a detour round this obstacle, and allen went ashore at a cautious distance from the water. louis, however, remained upon the ice, walking almost to the verge, and looking over into the inky stream. "be careful, lou! that ice is getting rotten!" allen shouted from the bank. "it's as strong as rock. look!" answered louis, jumping in his rackets with a heavy thud upon the snow. he proved the reverse of what he intended. there was a dull cracking under the snow and a startled shout from the reckless snowshoer. a great cake of ice broke off, drifting away, with louis standing on it. he balanced unsteadily for a moment, staggered, and plunged off with a terrified yell, going clean out of sight under the icy water. the cake of ice drifted over the rapids and broke up. allen had scarcely time to move before his brother reappeared, struggling feebly, and evidently almost paralyzed by the cold immersion. by good luck he managed to catch the top of a projecting rock at the head of the fall, and there he clung, driven against the rock by the force of the current. "hold on a minute, lou! i'll get you out!" screamed allen frantically. louis turned a blue face toward him, without answering. allen tore and kicked off his snowshoes, and was on the point of plunging into the water; but common sense returned to him in time. louis was in the middle of the stream, thirty feet away. allen could never reach him through that swift, deep current, and if he could, he would be so chilled as to be incapable of giving any sort of help. but the boy certainly could not hold on long in his present position, and should he let go he would be swept over the rapids and under the ice at the foot. his life hung on seconds. allen could think of no plan. he shouted encouraging words without knowing what he said, while his eyes roved desperately up and down the snowy shores in search of some inspiration. if he had only a rope, or anything to make a bridge--and then his eye fell upon a tall, dead pine "stub," barkless and almost branchless, standing a few feet back from the stream. it was long enough to reach to the imperiled youth, if it could be felled so accurately as to lie close beside him. but a foot or two above or below him would make it useless, and to aim too closely would be to run a deadly risk of crushing the boy under the falling trunk. by a queer vagary of his excited brain he remembered william tell and the apple. he would have to perform a somewhat similar feat of marksmanship; but it was the only chance that he could think of. he plunged through the snow for his axe, wallowed back to the dead stub, and began to chop. in the need for action his nerves grew suddenly cool. the feat was a more delicate one than he had ever attempted, and his brother's life hung upon his steadiness of nerve and muscle. but he cut quietly and without haste. the great yellow chips flew, and a wide notch grew in the trunk. in a few moments he shifted to the other side, cut another notch, and sighted for the probable direction of the fall of the stub. he could not tell how the roots held. he would have to leave that important factor to chance, but he cut, now delicately, now strongly, till the tremor through the axe handle told that the trunk was growing unsteady. it was a critical moment. he sighted again most carefully, and cut out a few small chips here and there. the stub tottered. it was standing poised upon a thin edge of uncut wood, and he stood behind it and pushed, cautiously, and then heavily. the tall trunk wavered, and the fibres snapped loudly. it hesitated, bowed, and allen leaped away from the butt. down came the pine, roaring through the air. it crashed into the water with a mighty wave and splash that hid boy and rock. allen had a moment of horrified belief that his brother had been crushed under it. a moment later he saw that louis was unhurt. but the tree had actually grazed the rock. it had fallen within eight inches of the boy's body. it made a perfect bridge as it lay, but in his nervous reaction allen was almost too shaky to walk the trunk and pull his brother out. he did it, although how he got him to land he never quite knew. louis was almost unconscious, and his wet clothes froze instantly into a mass of ice. he would certainly have lapsed into sleep and died, but allen piled the pine chips about the stump and had a fire blazing in a few seconds. the dry stump burned like pitch, producing a furnace-like heat; and allen partly undressed his brother and rubbed him hard with snow. under this heroic treatment louis came back to painful consciousness, and the fierce heat from the pine did the rest. but it was several hours before he was able to resume the tramp, and it was dark when they reached the shanty. how they captured the python. hamburg, as many know, is the great headquarters of the trade in wild animals for menageries and "zoos." to hamburg are shipped lions, elephants, and giraffes, captured in south and east africa, tigers from india, jaguars and tapirs from south america, gorillas from the congo, orang-outangs from borneo, and, in fact, about every kind of beast, bird, and reptile from all quarters of the globe. the warehouses of the two principal firms engaged in this business are interesting places to visit after the arrival of a "beast ship," with news of unusually large specimens of animal life. the narrator made such a visit some months ago on the arrival of a remarkably large, brilliantly marked python, shipped from padang, sumatra. this colubrine giant is more than thirty feet in length, and was bespoken by the austrian government for a zoo at budapest. but the story of its capture is even more interesting than the huge creature itself, for this python had fallen a victim to its fondness for the notes of a violin. there is a telegraph line extending across sumatra, from padang, connecting that port, by means of submarine cables, with batavia, and singapore. along this line of land wire are a number of interior stations. one of these, called pali-lo-pom, has been in charge of an operator named carlos gambrino, a mestizo from batavia, java, educated at the industrial school there. the station is on a hillock in the valley of the river kampar, and is adjacent to dense forest, jungle, and a long morass. it is a solitary little place, consisting merely of four or five thatched huts, elevated on posts to a height of six feet from the ground, to be more secure from noxious insects, reptiles, and wild beasts. as a general rule gambrino has little enough to do, except listen to the monotonous ticking of the instrument. for solace and company, therefore, he frequently had recourse to his violin. thatched houses on posts in sumatra are not commonly supplied with glass windows; but gambrino had afforded himself the luxury of a two-pane sash, set to slide in an aperture in the side wall of his hut, and some five or six months ago, during the wet season, he was sitting at this window one afternoon, as he played his violin, when he saw the head of a large serpent rise out of the high grass, at a distance of seventy or eighty yards. his first impulse was to get his carbine and try to shoot the monster, for he saw that it was a very large python, and not a desirable neighbor. but something in the attitude of the reptile led him to surmise that it had raised itself to hear the violin, and he passed at once to a lively air. as long as he continued playing the python remained there, apparently motionless; but when he ceased it drew its head down, and he saw nothing more of it that day, although he went out with his gun to look for it. nearly a fortnight passed, and the incident had gone from his mind--for large snakes are not uncommon in sumatra--when one night, as he was playing the violin to some native acquaintances who had come to the hut, they heard the sounds made by a large snake sliding across the bamboo platform or floor of the little veranda. on looking out with a light, one of the party saw a huge mottled python gliding away. but it was not until the reptile appeared a third time, raising its head near his window, that the telegrapher became certain that it was really his violin which attracted it. in the meantime the operator at padang, with whom gambrino held daily conversations by wire, had told him that the german agent of a hamburg house at that port would pay ten pounds, english money, for such a python as he described. gambrino began scheming to capture the reptile. in one of the huts at the station there was stored a quantity of fibre rope, such as is used in sumatra for bridging small rivers and ravines. gambrino contrived three large nooses from this rope, which he elevated horizontally, on bamboo poles, to the height of his window, and carried the drawing ends of the nooses inside the hut. this was done after the operator had ascertained that at times the snake would come about the house and raise its head as if it heard the violin. some time later the python was beguiled by the music into raising its head inside one of the nooses, which a native, who was on the watch while gambrino played, instantly jerked tight. what followed was exciting. the reptile resented the trick with vigor, and showed itself possessed of far more strength than they had expected. the rope had been made fast to a beam inside, and the snake nearly pulled the entire structure down, making it rock and creak in a way that caused gambrino and his native ally to leap to the ground in haste from a back entrance. the reptile coiled its body about the posts and pulled desperately to break away. altogether, it was a wild night at this little remote telegraph station. the next morning a crowd of natives collected; and as the python had by this time exhausted itself, they contrived to hoist its head as high as the roof of the hut and to secure its tail. it was then lowered into a molasses hogshead, which was covered over and trussed up securely with ropes. in this condition the python was drawn to padang on a bullock cart. it is said to weigh more than four hundred pounds. on the road to mandalay. all of us who were singing "on the road to mandalay" a few years ago--and there were mighty few of us who let it alone vocally--will be a bit surprised to be informed that rangoon, where the dawn comes up like thunder and other interesting things happen, looks to the approaching tourist like an up-to-date american business centre. in fact, according to a writer, the capital of burma has many american towns beat a mile in the civic improvement line. "its electric-lighted highways, all broad, neatly paved and well drained; its brilliantly illuminated boulevards, with rows of graceful, well-trimmed trees bordering both sides; its blocks of buildings, all laid out after a carefully considered plan, showing little of architectural beauty but much of austere regularity, astonish the stranger. "when you take into consideration the fact that rangoon has a system of parks and parkways with beautiful shade trees, choice flowers, and crystal lakes, artificial and natural, dotted about them, and that it provides breathing spaces for people living in congested districts, you cannot but form a good idea of the aliveness of the municipal corporation. a good horse-carriage service, now being rapidly superseded by the trolley, makes transportation easy and cheap. the city has provided splendid schools and playgrounds. yet sixty years ago rangoon was a mere fishing village." one item from mr. kipling's picture of rangoon referred to the elephants hauling teakwood in "the slushy, squdgy creek." well, they are still at it, working with wonderful precision and an apparent sense of responsibility. they don't try to soldier, never get in one another's way or mixed up with the machinery, no matter how cramped they may be for room. some of them take the teak logs which have been floated down the river and tow them ashore. then they drag them to the sawmills, either rolling them with one foot while they walk on three, pushing them with their tusks, or pulling them with a chain attached to a breast strap. inside the mill an elephant selects a log, picks it out with his tusks, kicks it up to the saw with his toes, then tying his trunk in a kind of knot around the log, holds it against the teeth of the saw while it is made into boards, pushing aside the outside slabs as they are cut off and adjusting the log to make boards of the proper thickness. then he piles the boards up neatly, standing off to examine the effect, and if he finds a board out of line carefully adjusting it. sometimes a pair of elephants working together exchange peculiar grunts, as if they were giving and receiving directions. they are used in burma for various purposes. the young calves are ridden like horses, with a soft pad and stirrups. they are found especially valuable in bad country, and may be ridden fifty or sixty miles a day. a tap on the side of the head, a slight pressure of the knee, or a word whispered in the ear is all that is required to guide them. it is not at all a difficult matter for an elephant in prime condition to outrun a fast horse, but they cannot jump. a deep ditch only six or seven feet wide is impassable to them. working elephants are in their prime when they are twenty-five years old. they are expensive to feed, it being declared in rangoon that an elephant eats a quarter of his weight in feed every day. an average day's food for one is certainly eight hundred pounds. socially burma is unlike other oriental countries. men and women--even young men and women--walk together in the streets and mingle in social gatherings. courtship always precedes the marriage. the burmans are ardent lovers, and when a young man and woman find that their parents do not approve of the match they usually repair to the woods and return after a day or two as man and wife, sure of parental forgiveness. marriage among burmans is an extremely simple affair. the only ceremony performed is the eating together out of the same bowl of rice. usually a feast is given to the relatives and friends of the families concerned. no sacrifices are offered, no services are performed. the burman wears a smile on his countenance, laughs and looks upon life through rose-colored spectacles. both the women and the men wear rich-hued silken clothes. but while there is gayety there is no indecorum or impropriety. for women burma is a little heaven on earth, if we are to believe enthusiastic writers. mrs. burman is ubiquitous. jewelry stores containing untold wealth in pearls, rubies, and other gems are in charge of women. markets and fruit stalls are run by women. at the railroad station a woman sells you the tickets and another one is ready to take dictation and to do your type-writing. not long ago a woman stockbroker died leaving a fortune which she had made herself. but the burmese woman does not let business interfere with motherhood. she runs the shop with one hand and the children with the other. when she marries the woman retains her own name, and any property she may have inherited or acquired. when divorced she is expected to support her children, but this is no hardship for her, since she cared for them when she lived with her husband. the burmese child rarely sees the father, but is brought up to look to its mother for guidance and support. the burmese woman takes a great interest in public affairs, and the portals of the university of rangoon have been open to her for a number of years. her intelligence, her beauty, her freedom from racial caste prejudice, all make her an acceptable bride in the eyes of foreigners who go to burma. marriage with a foreigner means as a rule that she can live in plenty and comfort without working. naturally she looks upon such a marriage with favor. the burmans are of mongolian origin, and consequently the chinese and burmese marriage produces a virile race. with this exception the intermixture of races in burma has not proved desirable. this is especially so in case of marriages between europeans and burmans. the offspring of such marriages are termed eurasians, who unfortunately seem to be looked down upon both by full-blooded europeans and burmans. almost as difficult a problem as that of the eurasian is the tobacco problem in burma. men, women, and children smoke. the cheroot at which they almost incessantly puff is eighteen inches long and about a quarter of an inch in diameter. it is wrapped in a banana leaf, and its mouthpiece consists of bamboo. the burman tobacco is so strong that only one-fourth of the filling of the cheroot consists of tobacco. the balance is a mixture of innocuous herbs. if possible the burman exceeds other asiatics in hospitality. he is par excellence the host of asia. any stranger may stroll into a burman dwelling and demand hospitality for at least three days. no remuneration is expected. opposite a burmese house one usually finds earthen pots of water placed for the use of the traveler, under a roof especially made to shelter the water from the hot rays of the tropical sun. these pots are tightly covered with earthen lids, which protect the water from dirt and dust. the social life of the burmans is interesting in the extreme. they indulge in boxing matches, pony, bullock, and boat races, cock fighting, splitting cocoanuts, snake charming, and juggling. chess and dominoes are the favorite games. theatres are in great vogue. the plot of the play is usually somewhat monotonous, for almost invariably the hero is a prince of the blood royal, the heroine is a princess, and the rustics from the villages figure as clowns and jesters. the dancing, though different from what it is in the occident, is not without interest to a westerner. the motions of the dancers are graceful and spry. burman amusements last days and nights. the best known secular festival is the pwe. the entertainment is melodramatic. comedy and tragedy are introduced, music and dancing are included. the plot of the play is flimsy. the performance includes tricks of clowns who are masters of their art and intensely amusing. the musical instruments in the orchestra consist of a circle of drums, gongs, trumpets, and wooden clappers, and the music out-wagners wagner in its deafening noise. many religious festivals are celebrated. probably the occasion when presents are distributed to the priests is the most interesting. the people bring their presents and pile them up outside an alley made of bamboo latticework. one brings candles, another matches, another brass vessels, etc., as though some previous arrangement had been made as to just what each one shall give. for the most part the donors are women, and all of them are dressed in their best. the monks, attended by a boy carrying a large basket, pass down the bamboo alley in single file, and each basket is filled with presents. a trio of masqueraders with faces blackened, dancing to comic music, follows the procession. anything that has not been distributed to the priests is gathered up by them. latest issues buffalo bill stories the most original stories of western adventure. the only weekly containing the adventures of the famous buffalo bill. =high art colored covers.= =thirty-two big pages.= =price, cents.= --buffalo bill's balloon escape; or, out of the grip of the great swamp. --buffalo bill and the guerrillas; or, the flower girl of san felipe. --buffalo bill's border war; or, the mexican vendetta. --buffalo bill's mexican mix-up; or, the bullfighter's defiance. --buffalo bill and the gamecock; or, the red trail on the canadian. --buffalo bill and the cheyenne raiders; or, the spurs of the gamecock. --buffalo bill's whirlwind finish; or, the gamecock wins. --buffalo bill's santa fe secret; or, the brave of taos. --buffalo bill and the taos terror; or, the rites of the red estufa. --buffalo bill's bracelet of gold; or, the hidden death. --buffalo bill and the border baron; or, the cattle king of no man's land. brave and bold weekly all kinds of stories that boys like. the biggest and best nickel's worth ever offered. =high art colored covers.= =thirty-two big pages.= =price, cents.= --working his way upward; or, from footlights to riches. by fred thorpe. --the fourteenth boy; or, how vin lovell won out. by weldon j. cobb. --among the nomads; or, life in the open. by the author of "through air to fame." --bob, the acrobat; or, hustle and win out. by harrie irving hancock. --through the earth; or, jack nelson's invention. by fred thorpe. --the boy chief; or, comrades of camp and trail. by john de morgan. --smart alec; or, bound to get there. by weldon j. cobb. --climbing up; or, the meanest boy alive. by harrie irving hancock. --comrades three; or, with gordon keith in the south seas. by lawrence white, jr. --a young snake-charmer; or, the fortunes of dick erway. by fred thorpe. --checked through to mars; or, adventures in other worlds. by weldon j. cobb. --fighting the cowards; or, among the georgia moonshiners. by harrie irving hancock. --the mud river boys; or, the fight for penlow's mill. by john l. douglas. --grit and wit; or, two of a kind. by fred thorpe. motor stories the latest and best five-cent weekly. we won't say how interesting it is. see for yourself. =high art colored covers.= =thirty-two big pages.= =price, cents.= --motor matt's quest; or, three chums in strange waters. --motor matt's close call; or, the snare of don carlos. --motor matt in brazil; or, under the amazon. --motor matt's defiance; or, around the horn. --motor matt makes good; or, another victory for the motor boys. --motor matt's launch; or, a friend in need. --motor matt's enemies; or, a struggle for the right. --motor matt's prize; or, the pluck that wins. --motor matt on the wing; or, flying for fame and fortune. --motor matt's reverse; or, caught in a losing game. --motor matt's "make or break"; or, advancing the spark of friendship. --motor matt's engagement; or, on the road with a show. --motor matt's "short circuit"; or, the mahout's vow. --motor matt's make-up; or, playing a new rôle. _for sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to any address on receipt of price, cents per copy, in money or postage stamps, by_ street & smith, publishers, - seventh avenue, new york =if you want any back numbers= of our weeklies and cannot procure them from your newsdealer, they can be obtained from this office direct. fill out the following order blank and send it to us with the price of the weeklies you want and we will send them to you by return mail. =postage stamps taken the same as money.= ________________________ _ _ _street & smith, - seventh avenue, new york city._ _dear sirs: enclosed please find_ ___________________________ _cents for which send me_: tip top weekly, nos. ________________________________ nick carter weekly, " ________________________________ diamond dick weekly, " ________________________________ buffalo bill stories, " ________________________________ brave and bold weekly, " ________________________________ motor stories, " ________________________________ _name_ ________________ _street_ ________________ _city_ ________________ _state_ ________________ a great success!! motor stories every boy who reads one of the splendid adventures of motor matt, which are making their appearance in this weekly, is at once surprised and delighted. surprised at the generous quantity of reading matter that we are giving for five cents; delighted with the fascinating interest of the stories, second only to those published in the tip top weekly. matt has positive mechanical genius, and while his adventures are unusual, they are, however, drawn so true to life that the reader can clearly see how it is possible for the ordinary boy to experience them. _here are the titles now ready and those to be published_: --motor matt; or, the king of the wheel. --motor matt's daring; or, true to his friends. --motor matt's century run; or, the governor's courier. --motor matt's race; or, the last flight of the "comet." --motor matt's mystery; or, foiling a secret plot. --motor matt's red flier; or, on the high gear. --motor matt's clue; or, the phantom auto. --motor matt's triumph; or, three speeds forward. --motor matt's air ship; or, the rival inventors. --motor matt's hard luck; or, the balloon house plot. --motor matt's daring rescue; or, the strange case of helen brady. --motor matt's peril; or, cast away in the bahamas. --motor matt's queer find; or, the secret of the iron chest. --motor matt's promise; or, the wreck of the "hawk." --motor matt's submarine; or, the strange cruise of the "grampus." --motor matt's quest; or, three chums in strange waters. --motor matt's close call; or, the snare of don carlos. --motor matt in brazil; or, under the amazon. --motor matt's defiance; or, around the horn. --motor matt makes good; or, another victory for the motor boys. --motor matt's launch; or, a friend in need. --motor matt's enemies; or, a struggle for the right. --motor matt's prize; or, the pluck that wins. --motor matt on the wing; or, flying for fame and fortune. to be published on august th. --motor matt's reverse; or, caught in a losing game. to be published on august th. --motor matt's "make or break"; or, advancing the spark of friendship. to be published on august d. --motor matt's engagement; or, on the road with a show. to be published on august th. --motor matt's "short circuit"; or, the mahout's vow. price, five cents at all newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, by the publishers upon receipt of the price. street & smith, _publishers_, new york transcriber's notes: added table of contents. italics are represented with _underscores_, bold with =equal signs=. converted oe ligatures to "oe" for this text version; ligatures retained in html edition. page , changed "an an" to "as an" in "white as an american." page , changed "me" to "we" in "we were going after archie" page , corrected typo "msglory" in "mcglory was out of the car." page , changed "of" to "off" in "as he started off." page , corrected typo "metoowah" in "awake, _meetoowah_!" courtesy of the digital library@villanova university (http://digital.library.villanova.edu/)) motor stories thrilling adventure motor fiction no. aug. , five cents motor matt's make-and-break or advancing the spark of friendship _by the author of "motor matt"_ [illustration: _"catch the rope and hold fast!" cried motor matt, as the aeroplane skimmed over the surface of the river._] _street & smith, publishers, new york._ motor stories thrilling adventure motor fiction _issued weekly. by subscription $ . per year. copyright, , by_ street & smith, _ - seventh avenue, new york, n. y._ no. . new york, august , . price five cents. motor matt's "make and break" or, advancing the spark of friendship. by the author of "motor matt." contents chapter i. the skeleton in the closet. chapter ii. what next? chapter iii. bringing the skeleton out. chapter iv. marking out a course. chapter v. the start. chapter vi. a shot across the bows. chapter vii. the man hunters. chapter viii. fooling the cowboys. chapter ix. the trailing rope. chapter x. a bolt from the blue. chapter xi. "advancing the spark." chapter xii. the trail to the river. chapter xiii. unwelcome callers. chapter xiv. an unexpected turn. chapter xv. a risky venture. chapter xvi. conclusion. mose howard's fish trap. photographs taken in dangerous places. costly fishes. characters that appear in this story. =matt king=, otherwise motor matt. =joe mcglory=, a young cowboy who proves himself a lad of worth and character, and whose eccentricities are all on the humorous side. a good chum to tie to--a point motor matt is quick to perceive. =ping pong=, a chinese boy who insists on working for motor matt, and who contrives to make himself valuable, perhaps invaluable. =amos murgatroyd=, the unscrupulous broker whose fight against the traquairs and motor matt finally results in complete disaster to himself. =prebbles=, murgatroyd's old clerk, who resurrects the skeleton from the family closet, fights a good fight, and, with the help of the king of the motor boys, finally banishes the skeleton altogether. =newt prebbles=, for whom motor matt undertakes to advance the spark of friendship; a youth who has erred, but who comes to a turning point and takes the right path. =lieutenant cameron=, an officer in the signal corps, u. s. a., who proves to be the cousin of an old friend of matt, and who nearly loses his life when the aëroplane is tested. =jed spearman=, "=slim=," "=hen=," =and three others=, cowboys belonging with the tin cup outfit, who make some mistakes and are finally set right by the sheriff. =roscoe=, sheriff of burleigh county, who plays a small but very important part. chapter i. the skeleton in the closet. "where's the old man, prebbles?" "don't ask me, jim. i haven't a notion." "well, there's a letter for him." the postman dropped a letter on the desk in front of the little old man on the high stool, and the door slammed. prebbles picked up the letter and blinked at it. for a while he sat staring like a person in a dream, then a gasp escaped his lips, and he slipped from the stool and carried the letter closer to the window. it was almost sunset, and a neighboring building shut off the light, but there, close to the dusty window pane, the light was good enough. the letter dropped from prebbles' shaking hand, and he fell back against the wall. "it's from _him_," the old man mumbled; "it's--it's----" the words died on his lips, and a choking gurgle arose in his throat. trembling like a man with the palsy, prebbles pulled himself together and staggered to the water cooler. he drew himself a glass, and the tumbler rattled against his teeth as he drank. "this won't do," he said to himself, drawing a hand across his forehead in a dazed and bewildered way. "i've got to brace up, that's what i have. but what's newt writing to _him_ for? i--i can't understand that." prebbles went back and picked up the letter. he was still greatly shaken, although he was getting firmer hold of himself by swift degrees. it was a very ordinary appearing letter to have aroused such an extraordinary state of mind in the old man. the address, in a peculiar backhand, was to "mr. amos murgatroyd, loan broker, jamestown, north dakota." prebbles was murgatroyd's clerk, and the only clerk in the loan office. for several weeks murgatroyd had not been in jamestown, and the work of the office--what little there was--fell to prebbles. during those weeks of absence, the broker had been doing unlawful things. prebbles, knowing his employer well, expected nothing better of him; but just what murgatroyd had been doing, the old clerk did not know. strange men, who might be detectives in disguise, were watching the office night and day. prebbles had been keen enough to discover that. it was the peculiar handwriting of the letter that had had such a powerful effect upon the old clerk. not one man in a thousand, perhaps in ten thousand, used a pen as the writer of that letter to the broker had used it. prebbles felt sure that he could not be mistaken--that there was not the least possibility of a mistake. he knew who the writer of the letter was, and for weeks the old man's dream by day and night was that he could discover the whereabouts of the man. the envelope was postmarked at steele, n. d. the writer might be there, or he might not be there. after setting hand to the letter, it was more than possible he had mailed the letter at steele and then gone to some other place. there was one way to make sure--and only one: in order to find out positively where the writer of the letter was, prebbles would have to open it and read it. although a clerk in the office, his position did not give him the right to open his employer's personal mail; in fact, murgatroyd had expressly forbidden this. the letters received during murgatroyd's absence--and they were but few--had been placed in the office safe. a week before, the collected letters had mysteriously vanished during the night, and in their place was left this scribbled line: "dropped in and got my mail. say nothing to any one about my having been here. a. m." that was all, absolutely all, prebbles had learned of his employer since he had left jamestown several weeks before. only two or three letters had collected in the safe since the others had been taken, and now this one from steele must be added to them, unless---- prebbles caught up a pair of scissors. before he could snip off the end of the envelope, he paused. to deliberately open a letter addressed to some one else is a crime which, if brought to the attention of the postal authorities, is heavily punished. prebbles was not afraid of the punishment, for he believed that murgatroyd himself was a fugitive; still, it was well to be wary. laying down the scissors, he ran the end of a pen-holder under the flap. but again he paused, realizing, with a tremor, that he belonged to the army, the salvation army. as a soldier in the ranks, had he the right to take this advantage of his employer? on the streets, prebbles, because of his earnestness in the army work, he was known as "old hallelujah." poor business, this, for old hallelujah to rifle his employer's mail! with a groan, prebbles pushed the letter aside and dropped his face in his hands. while he was thus humped over his desk, a picture of distress and misery, the door opened and a boy came in with a telegram. the message was for prebbles, and he signed the receipt. as soon as the boy had left, he tore the message open. "forward mail at once to george hobbes, bismarck. "hobbes." this was from murgatroyd, and it was not the first time he had used the name of "george hobbes." was prebbles to send that letter on without first seeing what was inside it? duty to his employer and duty to himself warred in his soul. that last letter received for murgatroyd might have been taken to the police. they could secure authority from washington to open it. but, if the letter came from the person prebbles suspected, he did not want the police to see it. the six o'clock whistle blew, but prebbles paid no attention. he was fighting with his salvation army principles, and the stake was the contents of that letter to murgatroyd. at seven o'clock, the haggard old man, the battle still going on in his breast, pushed the letter into his pocket and left the office, locking the door behind him. he did not go to the cheap eating house where he usually took his meals--there was no supper for him that night--but he proceeded directly to the "barracks," got into his dingy blue cap and coat, and took his cymbals. by eight, a dozen of the "faithful" were in the street, their torches flaring smokily, and the bass drum, the snare drum, the cymbals, and the tambourine whanging and clashing and rattling a quickstep. back and forth they marched, then rounded up on a corner and sang one of their army songs. old hallelujah was particularly earnest, that night. his voice was loudest in the singing, and his exhorting was done with a fine fervor. his thin, crooked body straightened, and his eyes gleamed, and he struck the cymbals with unusual vigor. "ole halleluyer is gittin' young ag'in," ran the comment of more than one bystander. "if he's so pious," observed some one, "it's a wonder he don't break away from that ole thief, murgatroyd." it _was_ a wonder, and no mistake. but the wonder was soon to cease. at ten o'clock prebbles and the rest were back in the barracks; and at ten-thirty prebbles was in his five-by-ten little hall bedroom, calmly steaming open the letter to murgatroyd. he had finished the fight, and had nerved himself for his first false step. but was it a false step? he had come to the conclusion that the end justified the means. the letter, carefully written, jumped immediately into the business the writer of it had in mind. "i must have more money or i shall tell all i know about you and the accident to traquair and his aëroplane. i can't live on promises, and i'm not going to make a fugitive out of myself any longer just to shield you. you're a fugitive yourself, now, but i reckon you can dig up enough money for both of us. i have dropped down the line of the northern pacific to mail this letter; as soon as it is in the office, i'm going back to my headquarters at the mouth of burnt creek, on the missouri, ten miles above bismarck. you'd better meet me there at once, as it's the safest place you can find. i suppose you've made arrangements to have your mail forwarded, so i'm sending this to your office. _bring plenty of money._ newt prebbles." for many a weary hour the old man paced the narrow confines of his room, reading the letter again and again and turning the contents over and over in his mind. "the boy don't care for me, he's mad at me," muttered prebbles wearily, "but if i can make up with him, maybe he can be saved. what's this about the accident to traquair? what does newt know about murgatroyd? no matter what happens, i've got to get the boy out of murgatroyd's clutches. if newt stays with him, he'll be as bad as he is." it was after midnight when prebbles dropped weakly into a chair. "motor matt will help me," he muttered. the thought had come to him like a flash of inspiration. and another inspiration had come to him, as well. he made a copy of the letter, then placed the original in its envelope, carefully resealed it, and went to the broker's office. to take the collected letters from the safe, place them and the one from steele in a large envelope and address the envelope to "mr. george hobbes, general delivery, bismarck, n. d.," consumed only a few minutes. "motor matt will know how to do the rest of it," thought the old clerk. "he's a clever lad, and he helps people. he helped mrs. traquair and he'll help prebbles. i'm done with this office for good, and i'm glad of it." he looked around the room with a grim laugh. "i never thought i'd be pulling the pin on myself," he said aloud. "maybe it's the poorhouse for mine, but i'll be glad to starve if i can make up with newt and save him from that robber, murgatroyd." he turned off the light and closed and locked the office door. an hour later he had dropped the long envelope into a letter box and was back in his room. at seven in the morning he had boarded the northbound train for minnewaukon and devil's lake. motor matt was at fort totten, on the south shore of the lake, and prebbles would be at the fort in the afternoon. the king of the motor boys was the old man's hope. prebbles knew matt, and had abundant faith in his ability to accomplish seemingly impossible things. "he'll help me," murmured prebbles, leaning back in one corner of the seat; "he helped mrs. traquair, and he'll help me." chapter ii. what next? "an elegant day--for ducks," said joe mcglory, turning from the window against which a torrent of rain was splashing. "i'd about got my nerve screwed up to the place where i was going to take a fly with you in the _comet_, pard." "well," laughed matt, "perhaps it will be a clear, still day to-morrow, joe." "the day may be all right, but whether i have the necessary amount of nerve is a question. it takes sand to sit on a couple of wings and let a gasoline engine push you through the clouds. sufferin' jack rabbits! why, ping, that little, slant-eyed chink, has got more sand than me when it comes to slidin' around through the firmament on a couple o' squares of canvas. i'm disgusted with myself, and that's honest." "it's as easy as falling off a log," remarked lieutenant cameron, of the signal corps. "i've been up with matt, and i know. he does all the work, mcglory. you won't have to do anything but sit tight and hang on." "'sit tight and hang on!'" echoed the cowboy. "sounds easy, don't it? at the same time, cameron, you know that if your hair ain't parted in the middle, the overweight on one side is liable to make the _comet_ turn turtle." "hardly as bad as that," grinned matt. the three--lieutenant cameron, motor matt, and joe mcglory--were in cameron's quarters in officers' row at the post. one window of the room overlooked the parade ground and, if the weather had not been so thick, would have given a view of the old barracks, beyond. another window commanded a prospect of the lake, just now surging high and lashing its waters against the foot of the bluff on which the fort stood. the post was practically abandoned, and no more than a handful of soldiers were in possession. most of these comprised a detail of the signal corps sent there for the try-out of the traquair aëroplane with which matt had acquitted himself so creditably. it was about three o'clock in the afternoon, and all day long matt and mcglory had been housed up at the post on account of the storm. ping pong, the chinese boy, was watching the aëroplane, which was in a big shelter tent not far from the post trader's store. the cowboy, grumbling over the cheerless prospect from each window of the room, finally returned to his rocking-chair and sat down. "what next, matt?" inquired cameron. "you don't remain long in any one place, and i've been wondering when you'd leave here and where you'd go." "we're liable to break out in any old place on the map," said mcglory. "that's what i like about trailing around with pard matt. you never know, from one week to the next, whether you're going to hang up your hat in alaska or panama. it's the uncertainty and the vast possibilities that hooked me." "i haven't laid any plans," remarked the king of the motor boys. "the failure of the government to buy that aëroplane, after joe and i had put up a lot of money and time building it, leaves me with the machine on my hands. it's something of a white elephant." "it needn't be a white elephant," returned cameron. "you can crate the _comet_ and leave it here at the post until you find a use for it. the other aëroplane which you and mrs. traquair sold the war department is going to prove such a success that i am sure the government will be after this one. it will take a little time. there's a certain amount of red tape connected with the matter, you know." "i'm hoping the government will buy the machine, but i don't feel like leaving it in storage while we're waiting for the war department to make up its mind." "why don't you go hunting for murgatroyd?" inquired cameron. "the government has offered a reward of one thousand dollars for his capture." murgatroyd had not only tried to wreck the first traquair aëroplane at the time of the government trials at fort totten, but he had also resorted to crime in an attempt to secure, from mrs. traquair, a quarter section of land in wells county, which, for some mysterious reason of his own, he was eager to get hold of. a deserter from the army, cant phillips by name, had assisted murgatroyd in his nefarious work; and, for that, phillips was now on his way to fort leavenworth to serve out a long sentence in a government prison, and amos murgatroyd was a fugitive. matt and his friends had been drawn into these lawless plots of the broker's, and cameron supposed that, apart from the reward offered for the broker's capture, the young motorist would be eager to see him brought to book. "i've lost interest in murgatroyd," said matt. "he's a scoundrel, and the government is dealing with him. what i want to do is to put the aëroplane to some profitable use. it was damaged considerably, when murgatroyd brought it down with that rifle shot, and joe and i have had to put up about three hundred more good dollars for repairs. now that it's all shipshape and ready to fly once more, i feel as though we ought to make it earn something for us, instead of leaving it here at fort totten in storage." "aëroplanes are built to sell, aren't they?" asked the lieutenant quizzically. "how can you make any profit off them if you don't sell them?" "well, for one thing," replied matt, "aëro clubs, in different parts of the world, are offering prizes for flights in flying machines. this machine of traquair's, as you know, cameron, is the best one yet invented. it can go farther and do more than any other aëroplane on the market." "i guess that's right," agreed cameron. "however, i'm not thinking of flying for a prize. we'd have to go to europe in order to get busy with a project of that sort, and i don't want to leave the united states--at least, not for a while yet." "i wouldn't go out of the country, matt," said cameron earnestly. "you're under contract, you know, not to dispose of any of the traquair patents to foreign governments." "i wasn't thinking of such a thing as that, cameron. what i was thinking of is this: yesterday i received a letter from a show---- one of these 'tented aggregations,' as they're called in the bills--offering five hundred dollars a week if we would travel with the outfit and give two short flights each day from the show grounds----" mcglory was on his feet in an instant, waving his hand above his head and hurrahing. "that hits me plump!" he cried. "i've always wanted to do something in a show. whoop-ya! matt, you old sphinx, why didn't you say something about this before?" "i've been turning the proposition over in my mind," answered matt. "frankly, i don't like the idea of traveling with a show so much as i do the prospect of earning five hundred a week. i'll have to find out, too, whether the manager of the show is good for the money before i'll talk with him." "are we going to st. paul for an interview?" "no, to fargo. the show will make that town in about a week, and i wired the manager that we would meet him there. the _comet_ will carry two light-weight passengers in addition to the operator, so you and ping, joe, will have to fly with me to fargo. we can save railroad fare by going in the aëroplane, and that's why i want to get you accustomed to being in the air with the machine." cameron listened to matt with an air that showed plainly his disapproval. "you won't like the show business, matt," he declared. "i understand that," was the response, "but it's the salary that appeals to me." "furthermore," continued cameron, "the manager of the show will probably dock your salary every time you fail to pull off a flight. you know how hard it is to bank on the weather. at least half of each week, i should say at a guess, you will find it too windy to go up." "we'll have to have an understanding with the manager about that. it will have to be a pretty stiff wind, though, to keep me from flying. i've got the knack of handling the aëroplane, now, and a moderate breeze won't bother me at all." "the show's the thing!" jubilated mcglory. "speak to me about that, will you? the king of the motor boys and the _comet_ will be top-liners. and _draw_? well, i should say! why, they'll draw the people like a house afire." the first traquair aëroplane--the one sold to the government after the fort totten trials had been christened the _june bug_ by mcglory; but this one, built by matt after the traquair model, he had himself named the _comet_. this name was to perpetuate the memory of a motorcycle which matt had owned and had used with telling effect in far-away arizona. "i'm sure i wish you all the luck in the world, matt," said cameron heartily, "although i tell you flat that this show project of yours doesn't commend itself to me worth a cent. however, you know your own business best. you have demonstrated, beyond all doubt, that the traquair aëroplane can travel across country equally as well as around a prescribed course. this makes it possible for you to take your friends aboard and fly to fargo, or to new york, if you want to--providing the wind isn't too strong and nothing goes wrong with the machinery, but----" cameron did not finish. just at that moment a rap fell on the door, and he turned in his chair to ask who was outside. "o'hara, sor," came the response from the hall. "what is it, o'hara?" "there's a little old man wid me, sor, who has just rained in from minnewaukon. he's as damp as a fish and about all in, sor, an' he's afther wantin' t' spake wid motor matt." "bring him in, at once." the door opened and sergeant o'hara entered the room, half dragging and half carrying a water-soaked individual who dropped feebly into a chair. "prebbles!" exclaimed the king of the motor boys, starting back in amazement. chapter iii. bringing the skeleton out. the old clerk was so wrought up over the business he had in hand that he had given scant consideration to himself. all his life--ever since he had been cast adrift to make his own way in the world--he had been a clerk. the only outdoor exercise he had ever taken consisted in walking from his sleeping quarters to his boarding place, and thence to the office, back to the boarding place for lunch, then back once more for supper and to his lodgings for sleep. during the last few months, since joining the "army," he had had evening exercise of a strenuous nature, but it came at a time of life when it merely ran down the physical organism instead of building it up. it was a bedraggled and shattered prebbles that completed the trip by wagon from minnewaukon to the post. this lap of the journey was through a driving rain, the old man being insufficiently protected by a thin horse blanket. his whole body was shaking, as he sat dripping in the chair, and his teeth clattered and rattled. several times prebbles tried to speak to motor matt, but the chill splintered his words into indistinguishable sounds. o'hara peered into the clerk's gray face, and then turned a significant look at his superior officer. "sor," said he, "th' ould chap ain't built t' shtand a couple av hours in th' rain." "get him something hot from the kitchen, sergeant," ordered cameron. then, when o'hara had left, the lieutenant turned to matt. "bring him into my bedroom, matt you and mcglory. i've some clothes he can put on. they'll be a mile too big for him, but they'll be dry." "don't try to talk now, prebbles," admonished matt, as he and the cowboy supported him into the next room. "you'll feel better in a little while and then you can talk all you please." o'hara came with a pitcher of hot milk, in which the post doctor had mixed a stimulant of some kind, and he was left in the bedroom to help prebbles out of his wet clothes and into the dry ones. "who is he?" inquired cameron, when he and the boys were once more back in the sitting room. "murgatroyd's clerk," replied matt. "i saw him once, when i first reached jamestown and called on the broker to make inquiries about traquair's aëroplane." "then, if he works for a scoundrel like murgatroyd, he must be of the same calibre. like master, like man, you know." "that old saw don't apply to this case, cameron," said matt earnestly. "prebbles is a good deal of a man. he belongs to the salvation army and tries to be square with everybody. why, the very first time i called on murgatroyd, prebbles warned me to beware of the broker." "the old boy is the clear quill," said mcglory, "you take it from me. but what's he doing here? sufferin' horned toads! say, do you think he's come to tell us something about murg?" "by jove," muttered cameron, with suppressed excitement, "i'll bet that's what brought him!" "perhaps," said matt. "we'll know all about it, in a little while." in less than half an hour the old clerk emerged from the room, in a comfortable condition outside and in. the only thing about him that was at all damp was a sheet of folded paper which he carried in his hand. "we had to swim, just about, from minnewaukon over here," muttered prebbles, as he lowered himself into a chair. "you're mighty good to an old man, motor matt, you and your friends." "when did you leave jamestown?" asked matt. "this morning." "then it was raining hard when you got off the train at minnewaukon!" "raining pitchforks!" "why didn't you wait in the town until the rain was over?" "there wasn't time," and the shake in prebbles' high-pitched voice told of his growing excitement. "i just had to get here, that's all. what i've got to say, motor matt," he added, with an anxious look at cameron and mcglory, "is--is mighty important." "perhaps we'd better go, then," said cameron, with a look at the cowboy. "wait a minute," interposed matt. "has what you've got to say anything to do with murgatroyd?" "he's a robber," barked prebbles: "he's worse'n a robber. yes, murg's mainly concerned in what i've got to say." "then it will be well for cameron to stay and hear it. he represents the government, and the government is after murgatroyd. as for mcglory, here, he's my pard, and i have few secrets from him." "all right, then," returned prebbles. "it ain't a pleasant story i'm goin' to tell--leastways not for me. i've got to dig a few old bones out of my past life, and i know you won't think hard of me, seeing as how i belong to the army. it's a great thing to belong," and the old man seemed to forget what he was about to say, for a few moments, and fell to musing. the young motorist, the cowboy, and the lieutenant waited patiently for prebbles to pull himself together and proceed. the old clerk's haggard face proved that he had suffered much, and his three auditors had only kindness and consideration for him. "it's like this," went on the old man suddenly, pulling himself together and drawing a hand over his eyes. "i was married, a long while ago--so long it seems as though it must have been in another world. i reckon i was happy, then, but it didn't last long. my wife died in two years and left me with a boy to raise. i wonder if you know how hard it is for a man like me to bring up a boy without a good woman to help? the job was too much for prebbles. i did the best i knew how, on only thirty-five dollars a month, givin' the lad an education--or trying to, rather, for he never took much to books and schooling. he ran away from me when he was fifteen, an' i didn't see him again until last spring, when he was twenty-one. "six years had made a big difference in that boy, friends. he had gone his way, and it wasn't a good way, either. he was in jimtown just a month, gamblin' and carryin' on, and then him and me had a quarrel. they were bitter words we passed, me accusin' him of dishonoring his dead mother and his father, by his ways, and him twitting me of bein' a failure in life just because i didn't have the nerve to be dishonest and go to grafting. i must have said things that were awful--i can't remember--but all i do know is that newt hit me. he knocked me down, right in murgatroyd's office. murg was out, at the time, and newt and me was alone there together. when i came to, newt was gone." again was there a silence, the old clerk fingering a scar on the side of his cheek. "how like a serpent's tooth is an ungrateful son," went on prebbles. "and yet, newt wasn't all to blame. i wasn't the right sort to bring up a high-spirited boy. i wasn't able to do my duty. he left four hundred in gamblin' debts, when he went away. murgatroyd showed me the i o u's with newt's name to 'em. that's why i kept right on workin' for murg, when i knew he was a robber, and after i had joined the army. i've been taking up those i o u's. three of 'em's been paid, and there's one more left; and here i've pulled the pin on myself before takin' up the other. i don't know what i'm going to do for a job," and a pathetic helplessness crept into the old clerk's voice, "but," and the voice strengthened grimly, "i started out on this thing and i'm going to see it through. what i want, is to make up with newt. lawsy, how that quarrel has worried me! i don't care about the way he hit me--he had the right, i guess--but i want to make up with him an' get him back." the old man dropped his face in his hands. the other three looked at him sympathetically, and then exchanged significant glances. "it isn't so hard, prebbles," remarked matt gently, "to advance the spark of friendship, and it ought to be more than easy in the case of you and your son." prebbles lifted his head and his forlorn face brightened. "i knew you'd help me, matt," and he put out his thin, clawlike hand to grip matt's; "you help everybody that wants you to, and i knew sure you'd see me through this business. i did what i could for you--remember that? mebby what i done didn't amount to such a terrible sight, but i put you next to murgatroyd the first time you ever came into his office." "of course i'll do what i can to help you, prebbles," said matt reassuringly. "it's make or break with me, this time," shivered prebbles. "i'm pretty well along to stand such a row as i had with newt." "where is newt now?" inquired matt. "that's the point!" murmured prebbles, trying to brace up in his chair. "somehow, he's got under the thumb of murgatroyd, or murg's got under _his_ thumb, i can't just understand which." prebbles smoothed out the damp sheet of folded paper on his knee. "i belong to the army," he quavered, "and i don't feel that what i've done's wrong. a letter came to murgatroyd, at the office, last night. it was addressed in newt's handwriting. i opened that letter and made a copy of it; then i sent the letter on, with some others, to george hobbes, bismarck. that's the name murg uses when he pretends he's lendin' money for some one else. he can gouge and strip a man, while sayin' he's actin' for hobbes, see?" every one of the three who had listened to prebbles was deeply interested. the bringing in of murgatroyd seemed to offer a chance for capturing the rascal. "here's the letter, motor matt," said prebbles. "read it out loud, and then you'll all understand. there's a way to get newt, and advance the spark of friendship, as you call it. by doin' that, the boy can be saved from the influence of murgatroyd--and that's what i want." matt took the copy of the letter from the clerk's nerveless hand and read it aloud. just as he finished, prebbles slumped slowly forward out of his chair and fell in a senseless heap on the floor. chapter iv. marking out a course. "poor old codger!" exclaimed mcglory, as he and matt lifted the clerk and carried him to the bed in the other room. "he's had more trouble than he could dodge, pard." "he didn't try to dodge it, joe," answered matt quietly, "and that's to his credit. he's worn out. i'll bet that, while he was scrimping in order to take up his son's i o u's, he has hardly eaten enough to keep himself alive. his constitution is broken down, and this trip in the rain from minnewaukon has topped off his endurance. it's only a faint, that's all, but it proves the old man has got to be looked after." matt and mcglory had revived prebbles before cameron came with the doctor. the latter, after listening to as much of the matter as the boys could tell him, felt the old man's pulse and shook his head gravely. "we'll have to keep him in bed for a day or two, i think," he said. "don't say that!" begged prebbles. "i got work to do, doctor! besides, this isn't my bed--it belongs to motor matt's friend, cameron, and----" "motor matt's friend," put in the lieutenant, "is only too glad to give you his bed, prebbles. i can sleep on the couch in the next room, and you can stay here until you're well enough to leave." "but i can't stay here," cried prebbles querulously. "didn't you hear me say i had work to do? i've got to help motor matt--all of you know why." "anyhow, prebbles," said matt, "nothing can be done until morning. you stay here and keep quiet until then. meanwhile, cameron, mcglory, and i will mark out a course, and we'll tell you all about it before we begin following it. if you're able, you can go with us. if you're not able, you can stay here and feel sure that i'll carry out this make-and-break affair of yours just as though it was my own. you can trust me to advance the spark of friendship, can't you?" "there ain't any one else i'd trust but you, motor matt," declared prebbles. "but i'm going with you, in the morning. i haven't any money----" "you don't need any," interrupted cameron. "you're welcome to stay here as long as you please, at the government's expense. you have brought a clue which may lead to the capture of murgatroyd, and the government has offered a reward of one thousand dollars for him." "if he can be captured, prebbles," added matt, "the money will go to you." "it'll come in handy, but--but it's newt i want." at a nod from the doctor, matt, mcglory, and cameron went into the other room and closed the door. "prebbles will never be able to leave here to-morrow morning," averred cameron. "it's up to mcglory and me," said matt, "to do what we can." "give me a share in the work," begged cameron. "perhaps i can do something. if necessary, i'll get a furlough." matt was thoughtful for a few moments. stepping to the window overlooking the parade ground, he peered out at the weather. the rain continued to come down in torrents, but there was a hint, overhead, that the storm would not last out the night. "we have a good clue to murgatroyd's whereabouts," said matt presently, coming back and taking a chair facing his friends, "but there are several points to be considered. prebbles sent on the original of his son's letter last night. that means that some time to-day murgatroyd got the letter in bismarck. if it is raining as hard, over on the missouri, as it is here, it is unlikely that murgatroyd went up the river to burnt creek to-day. with clearing weather, he'll probably go up to-morrow." "then," said cameron, "it's our business to take a train for jamestown at once, connect with a west-bound train there for bismarck, and then take a team and drive from bismarck to burnt creek." "the afternoon train has left minnewaukon," answered matt, who seemed to have considered every phase of the matter, "and there is no other train south until to-morrow morning. that train, i think, connects with one on the main line for bismarck, but we could hardly reach the town before late to-morrow afternoon, and it would be night before we could get to burnt creek. while we were losing all this time, what will murgatroyd be doing?" "why not get an automobile from devil's lake city," suggested cameron, "and reach jamestown in time to connect with an earlier train?" "how will the roads be after this rain?" inquired matt. "that's so!" exclaimed cameron, with a gloomy look from one of the windows. "these north dakota roads are fine in dry weather, but they're little more than bogs after a rain like this. we can't use the automobile, that's sure, and murgatroyd is likely to reach burnt creek before we can possibly get there. will he and young prebbles stay at burnt creek until we arrive? that's the point." "it's so uncertain a point," said matt, "that we can't take chances with it." "we've _got_ to take chances, pard," put in mcglory, "unless we charter an engine for the run to jamestown." "there's another way," asserted matt. "what other way is there?" asked cameron. "well, first off, we can send a message at once to bismarck, to the chief of police----" "sufferin' blockheads!" grunted mcglory. "i never thought of that." "how are the police going to locate murgatroyd?" went on cameron. "the scoundrel is there under an assumed name." "why," said matt, "tell the police, in the message, to arrest any man who calls at the post office and asks for mail for 'george hobbes.'" "easy enough," muttered cameron. "no," proceeded matt, "not so easy as you think, for it may be that murgatroyd has already received the letter. but shoot the message through at once, cameron, and let's do all we can, and as quick as we can." the message was written out and sent to the telegraph office by o'hara. "now," said cameron, "assuming that that does the trick for murgatroyd, there is still young prebbles to think about. he'll wait at burnt creek, i take it, for murgatroyd, and if murgatroyd is captured, and isn't able to leave bismarck, we can reach burnt creek in time to find our man and advance that 'spark of friendship'--which, to be perfectly candid, i haven't much faith in." "i believe," said matt, "that the greatest scoundrel that ever lived has an affection for his parents, somewhere deep down in his heart. if i'm any judge of human nature, that cowardly blow newt gave his father has bothered the young fellow quite as much as it has that old man, in there," and matt nodded toward the door of the bedroom. "leaving out sentiment altogether, though, and our ability to reach newt on prebbles' behalf, there's something else in his letter that makes the biggest kind of a hit with me." "what's that?" came from both cameron and mcglory. "well, young prebbles is asking murgatroyd for money, and hinting at something he knows about the accident to harry traquair. you remember that mrs. traquair's husband lost his life, in jamestown, by a fall with his aëroplane. it is possible that young prebbles knows more about that accident than murgatroyd wants him to know." "speak to me about that!" muttered the wide-eyed mcglory. "matt, you old gilt-edged wonder, you're the best guesser that ever came down the pike! give him the barest line on any old thing, cameron, and this pard of mine will give you, offhand, all the dips, angles, and formations." "this is plain enough, joe," protested matt. "i can see it now," said cameron, "but i couldn't before. there are big things to come out of this business, friends! i feel it in my bones." "and the biggest thing," declared matt, with feeling, "is making newt prebbles' peace with his father." "then," said cameron, with sudden animation, "i'm to get leave and go with you by train, to-morrow morning, to bismarck, on our way to burnt creek?" matt shook his head. "that depends, cameron," he answered, dropping a friendly hand on the lieutenant's knee. "depends on what?" "why, on whether it's a clear, still day or a stormy one." both cameron and mcglory were puzzled. "i can't see where that comes in," said the lieutenant. "if it's a fine day, joe and i will go to burnt creek with the _comet_." mcglory jumped in his chair. "that's another time i missed the high jump!" he exclaimed. "never once thought of the _comet_." "all roads are the same," went on matt, "when you travel through the air. apart from that, we can cut across lots, in the _comet_, and do our forty to sixty miles an hour between here and the missouri and burnt creek." cameron was dashed. he was eager to take part in the work of bagging murgatroyd, and in finding newt prebbles. "suppose an accident happens to the flying machine," said he, "and you are dropped on the open prairie, fifty miles from anywhere? you wouldn't be gaining much time over the trip by train." "we won't go by air ship," replied matt, "unless we are very sure the conditions are right. give me the proper conditions, and i'll guarantee no accident will happen to the _comet_." "but mcglory is scared of his life to fly in the machine," went on cameron. "why not leave him here and let me go with you?" "not in a thousand years!" clamored mcglory. "i'm going to ride in the _comet_. that's flat." "well, the machine will carry three," proceeded cameron. "why not leave the chinaman behind and take me?" "the _comet_ will carry three light weights," laughed matt. "you're too heavy, cameron." "that lets me out," deplored cameron, "so far as the _comet_ is concerned, but i'll go by train. maybe i'll arrive in time to be of some help." "we may all have to go by train, lieutenant," returned matt; "we won't know about that until to-morrow morning. for the present, though, the course is as i've marked it out." "well, let's go and eat," said cameron, getting up as the notes of a bugle came to his ears. "there goes supper call. i'll hope for the best, but i'm for burnt creek, matt, whether i go in the _comet_ or by train." prebbles, they found, was asleep. o'hara was brought in to sit with him while they were at supper, and all three left the room. chapter v. the start. the following morning dawned clear, and bright, and still. it was a day made to order, so far as aëroplane flying was concerned. matt and his cowboy chum spent the night at the post. before turning in, matt got into sou'wester, slicker, and rubber boots and churned his way down to the aëroplane tent to see how ping and the machine were getting along. everything was all right, and the heavy, water-proofed canvas was turning the rain nicely. ping was in love with the _comet_, and could be counted on to guard it as the apple of his eye. "as fine a morning for your start as one could wish for," observed cameron, with a note of regret in his voice, as he, and matt, and mcglory came out of the mess hall and started along the board walk that edged the parade ground. "i'm sorry, old chap, we can't take you with us," said matt, "but the _comet_ is hardly a passenger craft, you know." "what will you do with prebbles, if he's well enough to go?" "we'll let ping come with you by train. prebbles doesn't weigh much more than the chinaman." "suppose prebbles doesn't care to risk his neck in the machine?" "i don't think he'll make any objection. however, we'll go to your quarters and make sure of that, right now. how did he pass the night?" "slept well, so o'hara said. he was still sleeping when a private relieved the sergeant. mcglory," and here the lieutenant turned to the cowboy, "do you feel as much like flying, this morning, as you did last night?" "not half so much, cameron," answered mcglory, with a tightening of his jaws, "but you couldn't keep me out of that flyin' machine with a shotgun. if we join a circus as air navigators, i've got to get used to flying, and i might as well begin right now." "all right," answered the disappointed lieutenant, "i'll go by train." the doctor was with prebbles when cameron and the boys reached the lieutenant's quarters. what is more, the doctor's face was graver than it had been the preceding afternoon. the old man was throwing himself around on the bed and muttering incoherently. "delirious," said the doctor, examining a temperature thermometer; "temperature a hundred and three, and he's as wild as a loon. newt, newt, newt--that's the trend of his talk. you can't understand him, now, but he was talking plain enough when i got here." "is the sickness serious?" asked matt. "pneumonia. know what that is, don't you, matt? it's hard enough on a person with a good constitution, but in a case like this, where the powers of resistance are almost exhausted, the end is pretty nearly a foregone conclusion. however, we're taking the trouble right at the beginning, and there's a chance i may break it up." "get a good nurse for him," said matt, "and see that he gets all the care possible. the poor old chap was a good friend of mine, once, and i'll bear all the expense." "never mind that, matt," spoke up cameron. "if murgatroyd is caught, because of the tip he gave us, the government will be owing prebbles a lot of money." suddenly the old man sat up in bed, his eyes wide and staring vacantly, his arms stretched out in front of him and his hands beating together. his voice grew clear and distinct, echoing through the room with weird shrillness. "at the cross, at the cross, there i first saw the light, and the burden from my heart rolled away! it was there by faith i received my sight, and now i'm happy all the day!" one verse was all. spent with the effort, prebbles dropped back on the pillow and continued his whispered muttering. "it's one of those salvation army songs," observed the doctor. "he thought he was marching and playing the cymbals," said matt, in a low tone. "too bad!" exclaimed mcglory, shaking his head. "do all you can for him, doctor," urged matt. "i will, of course," was the answer, "but you may be able to do more for him than any one else, matt." "how so?" "why, by bringing back that scalawag son of his. that's the one thing the old man needs. if we can show prebbles the boy, and make him realize that he's here, and sorry for the past, it will do a world of good." "i'll bring him!" declared matt, his voice vibrant with feeling. "prebbles said this business would make or break him; and, as the work is on my shoulders now, it's make or break for me. come on, joe!" he turned from the room, followed by mcglory and cameron. out of the post went the three, and down the hill and past the post trader's store, the king of the motor boys saying not a word; but, when the shelter tent was in sight, he turned to his companions. "it's mighty odd," said he, "how chances to do a little good in the world will sometimes come a fellow's way. through that rascal, murgatroyd, i was led into giving a helping hand to mrs. traquair; and here, through the same man, i've a chance to help prebbles." "and you can bet your moccasins we'll help him," declared mcglory, "even though we lose that circus contract. hey, pard?" "we will!" answered matt. ping had cooked himself a mess of rice on a camp stove near the shelter tent. he was just finishing his rations when the boys and the lieutenant came up. "we're going out in the aëroplane to-day, ping," announced matt. "allee light," said the chinaman, wiping off his chop sticks and slipping them into his blouse. "you and mcglory are going with me," went on matt. the yellow face glowed, and the slant eyes sparkled. "hoop-a-la!" exulted ping. "by klismus, my likee sail in cloud joss!" "i wish i had that heathen's nerve," muttered the cowboy. "it's plumb scandalous the way the joy bubbles out of him. all his life he's been glued to _terra firma_, same as me, but, from the way he acts, you'd think he'd spent most of his time on the wing. but mebby he's only running in a rhinecaboo, and will dive into his wannegan as soon as we're ready to take a running start and climb into the air. we'll see." "pump up the bicycle tires, joe," said matt. "get them good and hard. ping," and matt pointed to the haversack of provender mcglory had brought from the post, "stow that back of the seat on the lower wing. we may be gone two or three days." "and mebby we'll be cut off in our youth and bloom and never come back," observed mcglory, grabbing the air pump. "this is matt's make and break," he grinned grewsomely; "we make an ascent and break our bloomin' necks. but who cares? we're helping a neighbor." ping crooned happily as he set about securing the haversack. he'd have jumped on a streak of chain lightning, if matt had been going along with him to make the streak behave. the _comet_ had two gasoline tanks, and both of these were full. the oil cups were also brimming, and there was a reserve supply to be drawn on in case of need. matt went over the machine carefully, as he always did before a flight, making sure that everything was tight and shipshape, and in perfect running order. even if anything went wrong with the motor, and the propeller ceased to drive the aëroplane ahead, there would have been no accident. the broad wings, or planes, would have glided down the air like twin parachutes and landed the flyers safely. cameron, having manfully smothered his disappointment, lent his hearty aid in getting the boys ready for the start. the machine, at the beginning of the flight, had to be driven forward on the bicycle wheels until the air under the wings offered sufficient resistance to lift the craft. a speed of thirty miles an hour was sufficient to carry the flying machine off the ground and launch it skyward. but there was disappointment in store for the boys. the three, seated on the lower plane, matt at the levers, tried again and again to send the machine fast enough along the muddy road to give it the required impetus to lift it. but the road was too heavy. the trick of fortune caused ping to gabble and jabber furiously, but mcglory watched and waited with passive willingness to accept whatever was to come. "i guess you'll have to give up, matt," said cameron. "the road's too soft and you can't get a start." matt looked at the prairie alongside the road. the grass was short, and the springy turf seemed to offer some chance for a getaway. "we'll try it there," said he, pointing to the trailside. "give us a boost off the road, cameron, and then start us." the lieutenant assisted the laboring bicycle wheels to gain the roadside, and then pushed the machine straight off across the prairie. matt threw every ounce of power into the wheels. usually the air ship took to wing in less than a hundred yards, but now the distance consumed by the start was three times that. for two hundred feet cameron kept up and pushed; then the _comet_ went away from him at a steadily increasing pace. finally the wheels lifted. quick as thought, matt shifted the power to the propeller. the _comet_ dropped a little, then caught herself just as the wheels were brushing the grass and forged upward. "hoop-a-la!" cried ping. mcglory said nothing. his face was set, his eyes gleaming, and he was hanging to his seat with both hands. chapter vi. a shot across the bows. the sensation of gliding through the air, entirely cut adrift from solid ground, is as novel as it is pleasant. the body seems suddenly to have acquired an indescribable lightness, and the spirits become equally buoyant. dizziness, or vertigo, is unheard of among aëronauts. while on the ground a man may not be able to climb a ladder for a distance of ten feet without losing his head and falling, the same man can look downward for thousands of feet from a balloon with his nerves unruffled. joe mcglory, now for the first time leaping into the air with a flying machine, was holding his breath and hanging on desperately to keep himself from being shaken off his seat, but, to his astonishment, his fears were rapidly dying away within him. the cowboy was a lad of pluck and daring; nevertheless, he had viewed his projected flight in a mood akin to panic. although passionately fond of boats, yet the roll of a launch in a seaway always made him sick; in the same manner, perhaps, he was in love with flying machines, although it had taken a lot of strenuous work to get him to promise to go aloft. the necessity, on account of wet ground, of juggling for a start, had thrown something of a wet blanket over mcglory's ardor. once in the air, however, his enthusiasm arose as his fears went down. matt sat on the left side of the broad seat, firmly planted with his feet on the footrest and his body bent forward, one hand on the mechanism that expanded or contracted the great wings, and the other manipulating the rudder that gave the craft a vertical course. on matt's quickness of judgment and lightning-like celerity in shifting the levers, the lives of all three of the boys depended. every change in the centre of air pressure--and this was shifting every second--had to be met with an expansion or contraction of the wings in order to make the centre of air pressure and the centre of gravity coincide at all times. upon matt, therefore, fell all the labor and responsibility. he had no time to give to the scenery passing below, and what talking he indulged in was mechanical and of secondary importance to his work. but this is not to say that he missed all the pleasures of flying. a greater delight than that offered by the zest of danger and responsibility in the air would be hard to imagine. every second his nerves were strung to tightest tension. ping sat between matt and mcglory, his yellow hands clutching the rim of the seat between his knees. he was purring with happiness, like some overgrown cat, while a grin of heavenly joy parted his face as his eyes marked the muddy roads over which they were passing without hindrance. up and up matt forced the machine until they reached a height of five hundred feet. here the air was crisp and cool, and much steadier than the currents closer to the surface. "great!" shouted the cowboy. "i haven't the least fear that we're going to drop, and i'd just as lieve go out on the end of one of the wings and stand on my head." "don't do it," laughed matt, keeping his eyes straight ahead, while his hand trawled constantly back and forth with the lever controlling the wing ends. "him plenty fine!" cooed ping. "fine ain't the name for it," said mcglory. "i'm so plumb tickled i can't sit still. and to think that i shied and side-stepped, when i might have been having this fun right along! well, we can't be so wise all the time as we are just some of the time, and that's a fact. how far do you make it, matt, to where we're going?" "a little over a hundred miles, as the crow flies." "as the _comet_ flies, you mean. how fast are we going?" "fifty miles an hour." "that clip will drop us near burnt creek in two hours. whoop-ya!" the cowboy let out a yell from pure exhilaration. not a thought regarding possible accident ran through his head. the engine was working as sweetly as any motor had ever worked, the propeller was whirling at a speed that made it look like a solid disk, and the great wings were plunging through the air with the steady, swooping motion of a hawk in full flight. a huddle of houses rushed toward the _comet_, far below, and vanished behind. "what was that, pard?" cried the cowboy. "minnewaukon," answered matt. at that moment the young motorist shifted the rudder behind, which was the one giving the craft her right and left course, and they made a half turn. as the _comet_ came around and pointed her nose toward the southwest, she careened, throwing the right-hand wings sharply upward. mcglory gave vent to a hair-raising yell. he was hurled against ping, and ping, in turn, was thrown against matt. "right yourselves, pards," called matt. "that was nothing. when we swing around a turn we're bound to roll a little. you can't expect more of an air ship, you know, than you can of a boat in the water. you keep track of the time, ping. joe, follow our course on the map. you can hang on with one hand and hold the map open with the other. we can't sail without a chart." matt had secured his open-face watch to a bracket directly above ping's head. the boy could see the time-piece without shifting his position. the map mcglory had in his pocket. removing the map from his coat with one hand, the cowboy opened it upon his knee. with a ruler, matt had drawn a line from minnewaukon straight to the point where burnt creek emptied into the missouri. this line ran directly southwest, crossing four lines of railroad, and as many towns. "how are we going to know we're keeping the course, pard?" inquired mcglory. "we ought to have a compass." "a compass wouldn't have been a bad thing to bring along," returned matt, "but we'll be able to keep the course, all right, by watching for the towns we're due to pass. the first town is flora, on the branch road running northwest from oberon. if i'm not mistaken, there it is to the right of us. hang on, both of you! i'm going to drop down close, joe, while you hail one of the citizens and ask him if i've got the name of the place right." there was plenty of excitement in the little prairie village. men, women, and children could be seen rushing out of their houses and gazing upward at the strange monster in the sky. everybody in that section had heard of motor matt and his aëroplanes, so the curiosity and surprise were tempered with a certain amount of knowledge. "hello, neighbor!" roared mcglory, as the air ship swept downward to within fifty feet of the ground, "what town is this?" "flora," came the reply. "light, strangers, an' roost in our front yard. ma and the children would like to get a good look at your machine, and----" the voice faded to rearward, and "ma and the children" had to be disappointed. having assured himself that he was right, matt headed the aëroplane toward the skies, once more. settlers' shacks, and more pretentious farmhouses, raced along under them, and in every place where there were any human beings, intense excitement was manifested as the _comet_ winged its way onward. in less than fifteen minutes after passing flora, they caught sight of another railroad track and another huddle of buildings. it was the "soo" road, and the town was manfred. "how long have we been in the air, ping?" asked matt. "fitty-fi' minutes," replied the chinaman. "manfred ain't many miles from sykestown, pard," said joe, "and we must be within gunshot of that place where we had our troubles, a few days back." "i'm glad we're giving the spot a wide berth," returned matt, with a wry face. "we've got to make better time," he added, opening the throttle; "we're not doing as well as i thought." the _comet_ hurled herself onward at faster speed. the air of their flight whistled and sang in the boys' ears, and hills underneath leaped at them and then vanished rearward with dizzying swiftness. "i'd like to travel in an aëroplane all the time," remarked mcglory. "sufferin' skyrockets! what's the use of hoofin' it, or ridin' in railroad cars, when you can pick up a pair of wings and a motor and go gallywhooping through the air?" the machine was well over the coteaus, now, and the rough country would hold, with only now and then an occasional break, clear to the missouri. another railroad, and a cluster of dwellings known as "goodrich," were passed, and the aëroplane slid along over the corner of mclean county and into burleigh. they were drawing close to burnt creek, and everything was going swimmingly. matt, notwithstanding the severe strain upon him, was not in the least tired. in a little less than two hours after leaving fort totten they crossed their last railroad--a branch running northward from bismarck. the town, near where they winged over the steel rails, was down on the map as "arnold." "speak to me about this!" cried mcglory. "there's a creek under us, matt, and i'll bet it's the one we're looking for." "we're finding something else we were not looking for," answered the king of the motor boys grimly. "what's that?" queried mcglory. "look straight ahead at the top of the next hill." mcglory turned his eyes in the direction indicated. a number of rough-looking horsemen, evidently cowboys, were scattered over the hill. they were armed with rifles, and were spurring back and forth in an apparent desire to get directly in front of the _comet_. "why, pard," shouted mcglory, "they're punchers, same as me. punchers are a friendly lot, and that outfit wouldn't no more think of cutting up rough with us than----" the words were taken out of the cowboy's mouth by the sharp crack of a rifle. one of the horsemen had fired, his bullet singing through the air in front of the _comet_. "that's across our bows," said matt, "and it's an invitation to come down." the "invitation" was seconded by a yell the import of which there was no mistaking. "hit the airth, you, up thar, or we'll bring ye down wrong-side up!" "nice outfit _they_ are!" grunted mcglory. "get into the sky a couple of miles, matt, and---- sufferin' terrors! what are you about?" motor matt had pointed the air ship earthward, and was gliding toward the hilltop. "no use, joe," matt answered. "they could hit us with their bullets and wreck us before we got out of range. they want to talk with us, and we might as well humor them." "mighty peculiar way for a lot of cowboys to act," muttered mcglory. "no likee," said ping. chapter vii. the man hunters. motor matt was not anticipating any serious trouble with the cowboys. the worst that could possibly happen, he believed, was a slight delay while the curiosity of the horsemen regarding the aëroplane was satisfied. armed cattlemen are proverbially reckless. a refusal to alight would certainly have made the _comet_ a target for half a dozen guns, and it was a foregone conclusion that not all the bullets would have gone wild. the cowboys, of course, knew nothing about aëroplanes. they wanted matt to come down, no matter whether the landing was made in a spot from which the aëroplane could take a fresh start, or in a place where a start would be impossible. the hill on which the horsemen were posted was a high one, and had smooth, treeless slopes on all sides. it was, in fact, a veritable turf-covered coteau. matt was planning to alight on the very crest of the hill. when he and his pards were ready to take wing again, he thought they could dash down the hill slope, and be in the air before the foot of the hill was reached. the horses of the men below were frightened by the aëroplane, and began to kick and plunge. the trained riders, however, held them steady with one hand while gripping rifles with the other. the flying machine circled obediently in answer to her steering apparatus, and landed on the crest of the hill with hardly a jar. as the craft rested there, the boys got out to stretch their cramped legs and inquire what the cowboys wanted. the latter had spurred their restive animals close, and were grouped in a circle about the _comet_. "well, i'll be gosh-hanged!" muttered one, staring at the machine with jaws agape. "me, too!" murmured another. "gee, man, but this here's hard ter believe." "hustlin' around through the air," put in another, "same as i go slashin' over the range on a bronk." the fourth man gave less heed to his amazement than he did to the business immediately in hand. "ain't either one o' 'em george hobbes?" he averred, looking matt, mcglory, and ping over with some disappointment. that name, falling from the cowboy's lips, caused matt and mcglory to exchange wondering glances. "what did you stop us for?" asked matt. "me an' slim, thar, thought ye mout hev hobbes aboard that thing-um-bob," went on the last speaker. "we're from the tin cup ranch, us fellers are. i'm jed spearman, the foreman. whar d'ye hail from?" "from fort totten." "when d'ye leave thar?" "about two hours ago." "come off! toten's a good hunnerd an' twenty miles from here." "well," laughed matt, "we can travel sixty miles an hour, when we let ourselves out, and bad roads can't stop us. but tell us about this man, hobbes. who is he?" "he's a tinhorn, that's what. he blowed inter the tin cup bunkhouse, last night, an' cleaned us all out in a leetle game o' one-call-two." "if you're foolish enough to gamble," said matt, "you ought to have the nerve to take the consequences." "gad-hook it all," spoke up the man referred to as "slim," "i ain't puttin' up no holler when i loses fair, but this hobbes person is that rank with his cold decks, his table hold outs, an' his extra aces, that i blushes ter think o' how we was all roped in." "he cheated you?" "cheat?" echoed jed spearman, "waal, no. from the way we sized it up when we got tergether this mornin', it was jest plain rob'ry. hobbes headed this way, an' we slid inter our saddles an' follered. but we've lost the trail, an' was jest communin' with ourselves ter find out what jump ter make next, when this thing"--he waved his hand toward the aëroplane--"swung inter sight agin' the sky. we seen you three aboard the thing, an' got the fool notion that mebby hebbes was one o' ye." "didn't you find out last night that you had been cheated?" asked matt. "nary. if we had, pilgrim, ye kin gamble a stack we'd have took arter this hobbes person right then. it was only this mornin' when slim diskivered the deck o' keerds belongin' ter the feller, which same he had left behind most unaccountable, that we sensed how bad we'd been done. the' was an extry set o' aces with that pack, the backs was all readers, an' the hull lay-out was that peculiar we wasn't more'n a brace o' shakes makin' up our minds what ter do." "what sort of a looking man was this hobbes?" "dead ringer fer a cattleman, neighbor. blue eyes, well set up, an' youngish." matt was surprised. he was expecting to receive a description of murgatroyd, but the specifications did not fit the broker. murgatroyd was a large, lean man with black, gimlet-like eyes. "what's yer bizness in these parts?" demanded jed spearman. "jest takin' a leetle fly fer the fun o' the thing?" "well," answered matt, "not exactly." "ain't in no rush, are ye?" "yes. now that you know the man hobbes isn't with us, we'll get aboard and resume our flight." matt stepped toward the aëroplane, with the intention of taking his place at the driving levers. but jed spearman stayed him with a grip of the arm. "i got er notion," said jed, "that i'd like ter take a ride in that thing myself." the other cowboys gave a roar of wild appreciation and approval. "ye say ye kin do sixty miles an hour," proceeded jed. "i'm goin' back ter the tin cup ranch ter see if the other party that went out arter hobbes had any success. it's thirty miles ter the tin cup, an' ye ort ter git me thar an' back inside o' an hour--onless ye was puttin' up a summer breeze when ye told how fast this here dufunny machine could travel. hey? how does it hit ye?" motor matt was taken all aback. an hour's delay might spell ruin so far as meeting newt prebbles at the mouth of burnt creek was concerned. "we're in too much of a hurry," said matt, "and we can't spare the time. i'd like to oblige you, spearman, but it's out of the question." "no more it ain't out o' the question," growled spearman. "i'm pinin' ter take a ride in that thar machine, an' ye kin help us in our hunt fer hobbes if ye'll only take me back ter the ranch. i reckon yore bizness ain't any more important than what ours is." "make him take ye, jed!" howled the other punchers. "if he won't, we'll make kindlin' wood out er the ole buzzard." the temper of the cowboys was such that matt was in a quandary. while he was turning the situation over in his mind, mcglory stepped forward and took part in the talk. "say, you," he cried angrily, "what you putting up this kind of a deal on us for? you can't make us toe the mark by putting the bud to us, and if you try it, we'll pull till the latigoes snap." "don't git sassy," said jed, in a patronizing tone. "we're too many fer ye, kid. ridin' in that thing'll be more fun fer me than a three-ring circus, say nothin' o' the help it'll be fer us ter find out whether the other bunch o' man hunters struck 'signs' er not. step back, an' sing small. here, slim, you take charge o' my hoss." the foreman passed his bridle reins to slim, dismounted, and laid his gun on the ground. "we'll have to wait here till ye git back, won't we?" asked slim. "sure," replied jed. "we've lost the trail, an' thar ain't no manner o' use ter keep on ontil we find out somethin'." "then i'm goin' ter git down," said slim. "we kin bunch up the critters an' smoke a little." mcglory's temper was rapidly growing. the cool way in which jed spearman was planning to appropriate the _comet_ was more than mcglory could stand. "you're a lot of tinhorns!" he cried. "this lad here," he waved his hand toward the king of the motor boys, "is motor matt, and he's making this flight on government business, mainly. you keep hands off, or you'll get into trouble." "that's me!" whooped spearman. "trouble! i live on _that_. get ready that flyin' machine, kase i'm hungry ter do my sixty miles an hour on the way back ter headquarters." an idea suddenly popped into mcglory's head. "this way, matt," said he, stepping off to one side and beckoning matt to follow. the cowboys were a little suspicious, but their curiosity prompted them to inspect the _comet_ and leave matt and mcglory to their own devices. "what do you think, pard?" asked mcglory, when he and matt were by themselves. "i think it won't do to have any delay," replied matt, "but i don't just see how we're going to avoid it. if it wasn't for those rifles----" he cast a look at the cowboys and shrugged his shoulders. "i've got a notion we can fool the punchers," said mcglory, "but ping and i will have to be left behind, if we do it. you'll be going it alone, from here on. think you can manage it?" "i'll try anything," answered matt. "all i want is to get away. who this gambler the cowboys call george hobbes is, i haven't the least idea. their description of the fellow doesn't tally with the description of murgatroyd, and the whole affair is beginning to have a queer look. i don't think there's any time to be lost." "no more there isn't," replied mcglory. "ping and i can wander on to the mouth of burnt creek on foot as soon as we can shake the punchers, and you can look for us there. what i'm plannin' is this." thereupon mcglory hastily sketched his swiftly formed plan. it had rather a venturesome look, to matt, and might, or might not, win out. there was nothing to do, however, but to try it. "what you shorthorns gassin' about?" yelled jed spearman. "i'm all ready ter fly, an' time's skurse." matt and mcglory, having finished their brief talk, walked back to the cowboys. chapter viii. fooling the cowboys. "if you're bound to make motor matt take you to the ranch, spearman," said mcglory, "that means that the chink and me'll have to wait here till you get back." "which is what i was expectin'," answered spearman. "i don't want ter feel cramped in that thar machine." "the rest of you will have to give the machine a start down the hill," went on mcglory innocently. "when the craft gets a start, and is in the air, you'll have to watch your chance, spearman, and jump aboard." "jump on when she's goin' sixty miles an hour?" howled spearman. "say, what d'ye think my scalp's wuth?" "it won't be going sixty miles an hour," parried mcglory. matt had already taken his seat in the _comet_. "why kain't i git in thar with him," asked spearman, "an' travel with the machine right from the start?" "sufferin' centipedes!" exclaimed mcglory, in well-feigned disgust. "say, i reckon you don't savvy a whole lot about flyin' machines. she's got to have a runnin' start, as light as possible; then, when she begins to skyhoot, you climb aboard. i guess you don't _want_ to take a trip aloft." "guess again," cried spearman. "i kin jump some, if it comes ter that, only"--and here he turned to matt, who was quietly waiting--"fly low an' slow." "all of you have got to help," proceeded matt's cowboy pard briskly. "lay your guns away, somewhere, so you can give both hands to your work." none of the cowboys had six-shooters, but all were armed with rifles. this was rather odd, but, nevertheless, a fact. when they started out after george hobbes, the tin cup men had been counting on target practice at long range. the horses had already been bunched with their heads together. four of the cowboys, who were still holding their rifles, stepped hilariously over to where slim and spearman had deposited their guns, and dropped their weapons. mcglory gave ping a significant look. the young chinaman stared blankly for a moment, and then a complacent grin settled over his yellow face. he was as sharp as a steel trap when it came to understanding guileful things. ping knew what was expected of him, and he was ready. the _comet_ was headed down the western slope of the hill. four of the cowboys placed themselves at the lower wings, two on each side, ready to run with the machine when they received the word. spearman, in his shirt sleeves, was tying one end of a riata to the timber which passengers in the aëroplane used as a footrest. "what are you doing that for?" demanded matt. spearman straightened up with a wink. "waal, it's fer two things, pilgrim," he answered jocosely. "fust off, by hangin' ter the rope, slim an' me kin pull while the rest o' the boys push. then, ag'in, if ye've got any little trick up yer sleeve, i'll have a line on yer ole sky sailer an' ye kain't leave me behind, not noways." that rope troubled matt, but he could voice no reasonable objection to it. already mcglory had played on the credulity of the punchers to the limit, and it was not safe to go much farther. "i'm goin' ter have yer job, jed," rallied one of the cowboys, "if ye fall outen the machine an' bust yer neck." "don't ye take my job till i'm planted, hen, that's all," grinned the foreman. "i been wantin' a new sensation fer quite a spell, an' i guess here's the place whar i connect with it." if the plans of matt and his friends worked out successfully, jed spearman was to "connect with a sensation" vastly different from what he was expecting. mcglory was chuckling to himself over the prospect. the cowboys, in their uproarious mood, did not seem to notice that neither mcglory nor ping were helping to give the aëroplane a running start down the hill. "ye'll be a reg'lar human skyrocket, jed," remarked slim, "if ye travel at the rate o' sixty miles an hour." "i'll be goin' some, an' that's shore," answered the foreman. "wonder what folks'll invent next? say, thar! if ye're ready, let's start." matt started the motor. this evidence of power rather awed the cowboys, and their grins faded as they watched and listened. "now," instructed matt, "the minute i turn the power into the bicycle wheels, you fellows begin to run the machine downhill." "let 'er go!" came the whooping chorus. jed spearman and slim, tailed on to a forty-foot riata, were some twenty feet ahead of the aëroplane. "now!" cried matt. the bicycle wheels began to take the push, and the _comet_ started down the slope, the two cowboys ahead pulling, and the four at the wings pushing. naturally, the descent aided the motor. there had not been as much rain, in that part of the state, as there had been in the devil's lake country, and the turf was fairly dry and afforded tolerably good wheeling. the cowboys roared with delight as they ran awkwardly in their tight, high-heeled boots. what happened was only natural, in the circumstances, although quite unexpected to the ignorant cattlemen. in less than fifty feet the aëroplane was going too fast for the runners. the four at the wings had to let go; and the two at the rope, finding themselves in imminent danger of being run over, dropped the rope and leaped to one side. all six of the cowboys watched while the _comet_, catching the air under her outspread pinions, mounted gracefully--and then continued to mount, the riata trailing beneath. "he ain't comin' back fer ye, jed!" howled slim. "here, you!" bellowed the foreman. "whar ye goin'? what kinder way is that ter treat a feller? come back, or i'll send a bullet arter ye!" matt paid no attention. he was following, to the very letter, the plan mcglory had formed, and was rushing at speed in the direction of the missouri and the mouth of burnt creek. "git yer guns!" cried the wrathful spearman. "shoot him up!" it is doubtful whether the cowboys would have been able to retrace their way up the hill and secure their guns before matt had got out of range. but they had not a chance to put their purpose to the test, for the contingency had been guarded against. when the cowboys reached the top of the hill, ping was at the foot of it on the eastern side, traveling as fast as his legs could carry him; and clasped in his arms were the six rifles! "blazes ter blazes an' all hands round!" fumed the enraged jed. "the chink's runnin' off with the guns so'st we kain't shoot. hosses, boys! capter the little heathen!" and here, again, were the cowboys doomed to disappointment. well beyond the foot of the hill, on the south side, was mcglory. he was riding one horse and leading the other five bronchos. "done!" gasped slim, pulling off his stetson and slamming it on the ground, "done ter a turn! who'd 'a' thort it possible?" "it was a frame-up!" raged the foreman. "the two of 'em hatched the plan while they were talkin'. i was a fool ter let 'em palaver like what they done, kase i mout hev knowed they was up ter somethin'. the chink lifted the guns on us, an' t'other feller lifted the hosses so'st we couldn't ketch the chink; an', as for _him_," and jed spearman turned and looked westward to where the aëroplane was a mere speck in the sky, "as fer him, i say, if that flyin' machine ever comes crowhoppin' eround whar i am, i'll shore put it out o' bizness!" "an' ye didn't fly, arter all!" bubbled slim. "you hesh," grunted spearman, "or thar'll be fireworks." "ye're purty good at jumpin'," jeered another, "so why don't ye jump aboard? i don't reckon she's more'n two mile off an' a mile high." "oh," fretted the foreman, "if i _only_ had a gun! say, let up er i'll use my hands." "an' we had to push," scoffed slim; "oh, yas, _indeed_! we had ter git off'n our hosses, an' put down our guns, an' push. never reckoned nothin', did we? never a thing. but they knowed, them fellers did--they knowed ev'ry minit jest what they was about. next time i fool with this here motor matt an' his flyin' machine, ye'll know it." "an' jed had a string on her," mourned another. "sure he did. why, jed had his rope fast to her so'st ter hang on in case motor matt had anythin' up his sleeve. well, well! i wonder----" but spearman could stand no more. with a fierce whoop, he rushed down the hill along the path taken by the chinaman. across, on an opposite uplift, ping could be seen. he was adding insult to injury by hopping up and down and making derisive gestures with one hand. "we got ter overhaul the chink an' git back them guns," shouted slim. "come on, boys!" the remaining five started after spearman. ping, observing the pursuit, hopped out of sight over the top of the hill. burdened as he was, he could not hope to escape the pursuing cowboys. but he had faith in mcglory--and mcglory did not fail him. when the cowboys reached the top of the next hill, they could look down and see mcglory and the six horses. ping was mounting one of the animals, and when he and mcglory vanished around the base of another coteau--which they were not slow in doing--they took the rifles with them. the cowboys had to pursue, and they had to do their pursuing on foot. if a cattleman hates one thing more than another it is walking, and the six disgruntled tin cup men limped and staggered and toiled onward through the coteaus, following the trail for at least four miles. when they finally ran it out, they found their horses and their guns, but mcglory and ping were conspicuous by their absence. chapter ix. the trailing rope. motor matt could not look behind and take note of how events were progressing on the hill. he could only hope that mcglory would carry out the rest of his plan without any setbacks, and that he and ping would get safely away from the foiled cattlemen. the ease with which the boys had played upon the ignorance and credulity of the high-handed cowpunchers, would have been laughable could the young motorist have known how successfully the rest of mcglory's plot was to be carried out. as the matter stood, matt was worrying too much to enjoy the situation. he carried away a memento of the recent trouble in the shape of the trailing rope. the forty-foot line hung downward, swinging to right and left and giving frightful pitches to the _comet_ in spite of matt's manipulation of the wing ends. bending down, he tried with one hand to untie the riata and rid the machine of its weight, but the knot had been drawn too tight by the pulling of spearman and slim. as a compromise, matt pulled the rope in and dropped it in the seats recently occupied by mcglory and ping. now for the mouth of burnt creek, and the carrying out of the purpose that had brought matt into that section. the mystery connected with the "george hobbes" the cowboys were looking for, and the success or failure of mcglory and ping in their final clash with the tin cup men, the king of the motor boys put resolutely from his mind. he was now to look for newt prebbles and advance the spark of friendship in behalf of the poor old man at fort totten. matt conceived that the easiest way to reach the mouth of burnt creek was to hover over the stream and follow it to its junction with the missouri. this manoeuvre he at once put into operation. the creek was as crooked as could well be imagined, and twisted and writhed among the coteaus, carrying with it, on either bank, a scant growth of cottonwoods. matt cut off the corners, flying high enough to clear the tops of the neighboring hills, and soon had the broad stretch of the upper missouri in plain view ahead of him. in a clump of cottonwoods, near the mouth of the creek, was a small shack. matt's view of the shanty was not good, on account of the trees, and he could not tell whether or not there was any one about the place. he was just looking for a spot, on the river bank, where he could make a comfortable landing, when he was startled by discovering a skiff. the skiff was in the river, well off the mouth of the creek, and was heading for the western bank of the missouri. there was one man in the boat, and he was using his oars frantically, watching the _comet_ as he rowed. "that may be george hobbes," thought matt, "and it may be newt prebbles. in any event the fellow, whoever he is, thinks i'm pursuing him. i'll drop lower and give him a hail." as the _comet_ settled downward over the surface of the river, the man in the skiff redoubled his efforts with the oars. he seemed to be seized with an unreasoning panic. "hello, below there!" shouted matt. to slow the aëroplane too much would mean a drop into the water, for a certain rate of flight was necessary in order to keep the machine aloft. as matt called, he passed on beyond the boat, described a turn over the middle of the river, and came back toward the eastern bank. the man made no response. "are you newt prebbles?" yelled matt. the other shouted something, in an angry tone, the exact import of which the young motorist could not catch. taking his right hand from the oar, the man jerked a revolver from his belt. "don't shoot!" cried matt. "i'm a friend of yours." the last word was snipped off in the incisive crack of the weapon. the bit of lead zipped past matt's head and bored a hole through the upper wing of the air ship. "stop that!" called matt sternly, pointing the aëroplane higher and turning again when over the eastern bank. whatever he did, he realized that he must not expose the motor and propeller to a stray bullet. but no more shots were fired. matt wondered at this until he had faced the machine about and was able to observe what was going on below. the man in the skiff had lost an oar. in releasing his hand to use the revolver, the oar had slipped from the rowlock into the water. a frantic effort was being made by the man to recover the oar; and so wild and inconsidered was the attempt that the skiff went over, throwing its occupant into the river. "help!" came the cry, as the man, thrashing and floundering, bobbed to the surface of the river between the overturned boat and the oar. it was evident, at a glance, that he could not swim, or that he could swim so little the mere weight of his clothes was enough to drag him under. "keep your nerve!" cried matt encouragingly. "i'll help you in a minute." the _comet_ was well to the westward of the man. matt turned her sharply, at the same time bringing her as close to the water as he dared. then, with one hand on the lever controlling the wing tips, with the other he reached for the rope on the seat beside him. laying a course to pass directly over the man, matt leaned forward and flung the riata downward. the sinuous coils straightened out as the rope descended, the lower end swishing through the water. "catch the rope and hold fast!" cried motor matt, as the aëroplane skimmed over the surface of the river. there would be a jolt when the _comet_ took up the slack in the riata, providing the man were successful in laying hold of the line. would the jolt disengage the man's hands, or have any serious effect on the _comet_? by that time the aëroplane was so far beyond the man that matt could not see what he was doing. holding his breath, the king of the motor boys braced himself and waited. in perhaps a second the _comet_ reeled and shivered as though under a blow. quickly matt turned full speed into the propeller, and the machine steadied itself and began to tug at the weight underneath and behind. then, slowly, the aëroplane mounted upward. at a height of fifty feet, matt could look down and see a dripping form, swaying and gyrating at the end of the riata. "can you hang on?" called matt. "yes," was the response from below, "if you don't want me to hang on too long." "no more than a minute. by that time i'll have you ashore." the heavy weight, swinging under the machine like a pendulum, made the aëroplane exceedingly difficult to manage. in the early stages of aëroplane flying, equilibrium had only been kept by swinging weights, and it had remained for the wrights to discover that bending the wing tips upward or downward kept an aëroplane's poise much better than any shifting weight could do; and to harry traquair had fallen the honor of inventing sliding extensions, whereby either wing area could be increased or contracted in the space of a breadth. now that the _comet_ had both a shifting weight and wing manipulations to keep her steady, she was not steady at all--one balance seeming to counteract the other. in spite of the terrific dipping and plunging, however, matt succeeded in getting to the shore. the moment the man on the rope found himself over solid ground, he let go his hold and dropped five or six feet to the bank. instantly the _comet_ came fairly well under control again, and would have been entirely so but for the weight of the rope. matt selected a cleared spot in which to alight, shut off the power, and glided to the earth easily and safely. stepping out of the aëroplane, he hurried to the spot where the rescued man was lying. "how are you?" asked matt, kneeling beside him. "i'm about fagged," he answered. "there's a cabin, about a rod up the creek on this side. go there and get the bottle of whisky you'll find on the table. a pull at that bottle will put some ginger into me." "you don't need that kind of ginger," replied matt. "i'll help you to the cabin, and when we get there you can get into some dry clothes. that will do you more good than all the fire-water that ever came out of a still." the man hoisted up on one elbow and peered at matt with weak curiosity. "that's your brand, is it?" he asked, with as much contempt as he was able to put into the words. "well, yes," replied matt. "it's my brand, and you'd be a heap better off if it was yours." he had been scrutinizing the man closely. he now saw that he was young, that he had blue eyes, and that he was wearing cowboy clothes. his hat, of course, was in the river. "who are you?" the young fellow asked. "i'll tell you later," was the indefinite reply. "how did you happen to be around here in that flying machine?" went on the other suspiciously. "you'll find that out, too, at the proper time." "if you're from the tin cup ranch----" "i'm not, so make your mind easy on that. but i know you. you're george hobbes, and you robbed the cowboys at the tin cup ranch in a game of cards, last night. you----" with a fierce exclamation, the youth sat up, and his right hand darted toward his hip. "you're not going to do any shooting," said matt. "your gun's in the river, and you'd have been there, too, but for me. what sort of way is that to act toward the man who saved you from drowning?" chapter x. a bolt from the blue. small, and seemingly trifling, events sometimes pave the way for vital undertakings. the performance on the coteau, in which the tin cup men had so prominently figured, had left the _comet_ equipped with a forty-foot riata. on the flight to the missouri matt had tried to untie the rope and drop it from the machine. in this he had failed--a very fortunate circumstance for the dripping young man on the bank. but for that trailing rope, matt would never have been able to effect a rescue. "it may be," said the young man, "that you have only pulled me out of the river to give me into the hands of the tin cup outfit." "i have already told you," returned matt, "that i have nothing to do with the tin cup outfit." "why were you chasing me in that air ship, then?" "i wasn't chasing you. you had a guilty conscience, and if a man had been coming this way on an elephant you would have thought he was after you." the other was silent for a space, surveying matt furtively and, apparently, trying to guess his business. "you knew about that work in the tin cup bunk house, last night," said he tentatively. "i heard of it from a party who are out looking for george hobbes. that is your name, is it?" "that's the way i was billed during that performance at the bunk house." "what are you, by profession--a cowboy or a gambler?" "cowboy." matt glanced at the young fellow's hands. they looked more like a gambler's hands than a cowboy's. and yet, skillful though he must have been with the cards, hobbes had not the appearance of a gambler. "do you live here?" matt went on. "yes," was the answer. "i told you, a moment ago, where my shack was." "then you're not doing much in the cattle line if you hang out in this deserted spot." hobbes gave a grunt and got up. "what are you trying to pry into my business affairs for?" he asked surlily. "do you think saving my life gives you a right to do that?" "well," fenced matt, "that depends. you don't talk like any cowboy i ever heard--your english is too good." "there are a lot of punchers who use better english than i do." "possibly," answered matt. "i haven't been in the cattle country very much. what was the amount of money you stole from the tin cup outfit?" a flush of color ran into hobbes' tanned face. "i didn't steal their money," he cried angrily. "i played cards for it." "you didn't play a square game. they found the pack you used, this morning, and there were extra aces, and the backs were printed in such a way that you could tell what cards your opponents held." "what of that?" was the scoffing response. "they didn't find me out. they had the right to beat me at my own game--if they could." "i'm not here to preach," said matt, "but you've got yourself into a pretty bad mix. i'm willing to help you out if you'll send back the money." "i'll not send back a soo," was the answer, "and you've got your nerve along to bat such a proposition up to me. who asked for your help? i didn't." hobbes turned away in a huff and started for the creek, his wet clothes slapping about him as he walked. "just a minute, hobbes," called matt, "and i'll go with you. i want to rope this flying machine to a couple of trees, so that it won't be blown into the river if a wind should happen to come up." hobbes was very wet, very tired, and very sulky, but he could hardly refuse such a trifling request. with the rope that had saved his life, he helped matt secure the _comet_. "do you know any one, in these parts, by the name of newt prebbles?" matt inquired, while they were moving toward the shack. "you used that name while i was in the skiff," said hobbes, "i remember, now. what's your business with newt prebbles?" "i'll tell him that when i see him. it's important. do you know the man?" "yes, i know him. he's a pal of mine and lives with me in the shack." "is he there, now?" asked matt eagerly. "no." "when will he be back?" "that's hard to tell. he won't come back at all if you don't tell me what your business is with him." "why so?" "i'll warn him away. you've found out a lot about me, but how much have you told me about yourself? not a thing. i haven't a notion who you are, and i'm blamed if i like mysteries." they were close to the cluster of cottonwoods and the shack, and matt fell silent. the house, as the king of the motor boys could see, now that he was close to it, was built of sod, and had a roof of grass thatched over cottonwood poles. it was in a fairly good state of repair and had evidently been occupied for some time. the door stood open, and hobbes stepped to one side to let matt enter first. it looked like a mere act of courtesy, and may have been no more than that; but, in view of what immediately happened, matt would have been entitled to suspicions. believing the shack to be empty, matt crossed the threshold. he was instantly seized by some one who threw himself from behind the open door. with a startled cry, the young motorist twisted around in the strong arms that held him and caught a look at the man's face. it was murgatroyd! another moment and all the fight in matt's nature flew to the surface. putting forth all his strength, he kicked and struggled until he had freed himself of the broker's grip. he was no sooner clear of murgatroyd, however, when hobbes set upon him. hobbes had not yet recovered his strength, and matt would have made short work of him had not the broker come savagely to his aid. between them matt was forced to the clay floor of the house and lashed with a rope in such a manner that he was powerless to move. murgatroyd, panting from his exertions, lifted himself erect and gave the prisoner a vengeful kick. "wasn't expecting to find me here, eh?" he asked. "you've led me a pretty chase, motor matt, but here we are at the end of the trail, and i've got the upper hand." somehow matt had fallen under the impression that the police of bismarck would take care of murgatroyd; hence, he had left the broker out of his calculations, and this meeting with him in that sod shack was like lightning out of a clear sky. "you know this fellow, then?" said hobbes. "i know him too well, and that's the trouble. he's meddled with my affairs until they're in a pretty tangle, and i'll have all i can do to straighten them out again. i wasn't expecting a chance like this," and a jubilant note entered the broker's voice. "how did he happen to come here, newt?" "that's too many for me, murg. he was in a flying machine. i saw him coming, and thought he was on my track for a little game that was pulled off at the tin cup ranch, last night. in my hurry to get across the river i lost an oar, and in my hurry to get the oar i overturned the boat. i can't swim much, and with all my clothes on i'd have gone to the bottom if he hadn't snatched me ashore." motor matt was not much surprised to hear murgatroyd call the supposed hobbes "newt." the young motorist's mind had been working around to that view of the young fellow's identity. he was newt prebbles, and was on friendly terms with the master scoundrel, murgatroyd. the broker seated himself in a chair, and did not seem particularly well pleased with the news prebbles had just given him. perhaps, for his peace of mind, he was wishing that matt had not rescued newt, and it may be he resented the "hold" this rescue gave matt on newt's gratitude--providing newt harbored such a sentiment, which seemed doubtful. newt began changing his clothes. before he began, he took a bottle from the table and poured himself a drink of its fiery contents. "when did you get here, murg?" he demanded, as he got into his clothes. "it must have been while you were having that trouble on the river. i didn't see anything of the flying machine, and i didn't hear anything of the fracas. feeling sure you'd be back soon, i hitched my horse among the cottonwoods and came in here to wait. i heard you and motor matt talking as you walked this way, and i had to rub my eyes in order to make sure it was really motor matt who was coming. jove, but this is a stroke of luck!" "you'll have to tell me about that, for it's mighty dark to me. you got my letter all right?" "naturally, or i shouldn't be here. the letter arrived in bismarck yesterday forenoon, and i pulled out of the town at once. stayed last night with a farmer, more to make certain i wasn't followed than anything else." murgatroyd scowled. "this being a fugitive," he finished, "gets on a man's nerves." newt laughed grimly. "did you bring the money?" he demanded. "don't talk about that here," and the broker flashed a significant glance at matt. "all right," agreed newt. "suppose we let this motor matt, as you call him, go free? we don't want him around, anyhow." "go free?" cried murgatroyd. "i'll catch myself doing that! i owe him something," and here a demoniacal look crept into the broker's eyes, "and i guess, as my old friend siwash used to say, i'll take advantage of this opportunity and 'saw off' with him." this threat, however, did not make matt feel at all uncomfortable. he had in his hands the material necessary to play off one of these men against the other. out of this might come a good deal of benefit to himself, and much good for newt prebbles. in case he did not succeed in this plan, there was mcglory and ping yet to be heard from. if they had safely escaped the tin cup men, it would not be long before they gained the mouth of burnt creek and played their part in events to come. just then matt felt like congratulating himself on having been made a prisoner. such a position gave him the advantage of being impartial in the hostility he was about to incite between his captors. chapter xi. "advancing the spark." "i'm not going to stand around and let you be rough with him," asserted newt, finishing his dressing and taking another drink from the bottle. "nobody asked you to stand around," said murgatroyd. "when i'm ready to get rough, you can go down to the river and stay there till i'm through." "why did you jump on him like that?" considering what he himself had done toward matt's capture, newt's stand was hardly consistent. "i'll tell you," and, with that, murgatroyd went on to relate the number of times his trail had crossed matt's, and the circumstances. newt's eyes widened as the recital proceeded, and when the end was reached it found him moody and preoccupied. "from all that," went on murgatroyd, "you can see just how much i am in motor matt's debt." "he saved my life," said newt doggedly, "and i'm not going to let you be rough with him." "don't make a fool of yourself, newt," scowled murgatroyd. "he did me a good turn," insisted the other, "and i'm not going to let him get the worst of this." "sit me up in a chair, can't you?" asked matt. "i want to talk a little, and i'm not very comfortable, lying here like this." "it's nothing to me," snarled murgatroyd, "whether you're comfortable or not." without a word, newt went to the prisoner and helped him get to his feet and drop into a chair. "leave his ropes alone," called murgatroyd sharply. "i'm not touching his ropes--yet," returned newt. "what have you got to say?" he asked, facing matt. "how many i o u's for gambling debts did you leave in jamestown, prebbles, when you left there?" a lighted bomb, hurled suddenly into the shack, could not have startled either of the two men more than did this question. it was a random shot on matt's part. he wanted both newt and murgatroyd to understand that he was well equipped with information. "i didn't leave a single gambling debt behind me," asserted newt, with rising indignation. the broker became visibly uncomfortable. "he's talking wild, newt," said he. "then," continued matt, "how did it happen that murgatroyd had several duebills, signed by you?" "he didn't have any signed by me." "of course not," agreed murgatroyd, laughing derisively, but there were demons rising in his sharp eyes. "too bad your father didn't know that, newt," said matt. "he's been slaving, and denying himself necessities of life, to take up a lot of i o u's which, murgatroyd told him, had been given by you for gambling debts." newt, his face full of rage, whirled on the broker in a fury. "is that the truth?" he cried. "not a word of truth in it," answered the broker coolly. "from what i've told you about motor matt, newt, you ought to understand that he's cunning. he's working some sort of a dodge, now. don't let him fool you." newt was quieted somewhat but not convinced. "who told you about those duebills?" he demanded. "your father." "when did you see him? and how did he happen to tell you anything like that?" "just a minute," said matt, playing with the spark before he advanced it fully. "there's a point about george hobbes that i'd like to have settled. which of you uses that name? or have you a partnership interest in it? newt plays cards at the tin cup ranch as george hobbes, and murgatroyd does business in that name and receives letters in bismarck when they are so addressed. now----" with a hoarse exclamation of astonishment and anger, murgatroyd flung himself from the chair and started toward matt. newt jumped in front of him. "you'd better sit down, murg," said newt. the two men stared at each other, the broker furious, and the younger man defiant. "he knows too much!" flared murgatroyd. "he says so much i know to be true that i'm inclined to believe everything he tells us. we'll hear him out, and if you try to lay your hands on him you'll settle with me." the spark was working splendidly. it would not be long, now, before it set off an explosion. "you wrote a letter to murgatroyd, newt," said matt, "and posted it in steele, north dakota. murgatroyd hasn't found it healthy to be in his jamestown office for some time, and the only person there, when your letter was received, was your father. he recognized your handwriting, and he opened the letter and made a copy of it before he sent it on to murgatroyd, in bismarck." the broker's face became fairly livid. he tried to talk, but the words gurgled in his throat. "your father knew i was a friend of his," pursued matt, "and he came to fort totten to see me. he got there yesterday afternoon, driving over from minnewaukon in a heavy rain. when he showed me the copy of your letter, i started for this place in the aëroplane." "what were you intending to do here?" inquired newt. "i was hoping to persuade you to go back to totten and see your father. he wants you." newt shook his head. "it won't do," he answered. "the old man and i had a tumble, and it's better for us to keep apart." "you don't _dare_ to go!" stormed murgatroyd. "what have i been paying you, for? tell me that. you'll stay away from fort totten, newt. i've brought money enough to take you to south america, and that's where you're going." newt's eyes brightened a little. "i wonder if you really mean to shell out enough to take me that far?" he asked. "yes," cried the broker, "and i'll pay you well for going, too." "you won't go, newt," put in matt. "you're not going to let this scoundrel wheedle you into leaving the country just to get you out of the way and prevent you from telling what you know about the accident to harry traquair." silence followed the launching of this bolt, silence that was broken only by the startled breathing of the two men. both of them kept their eyes riveted on the prisoner. "traquair, the inventor of the aëroplane," continued matt, "tried out his machine in jamestown, several weeks ago, and an accident happened. some part of the mechanism broke. why did it break?" matt's voice grew solemn as he turned his eyes on murgatroyd. "why did it break?" he asked, again. the broker's face turned ashen. drops of sweat stood out on his forehead, his hands clinched spasmodically, and his lips moved without sound. "murgatroyd," matt pursued mercilessly, "had a mortgage on harry traquair's homestead, in wells county. for some reason of his own, murgatroyd wants that piece of prairie land. if traquair had lived, he would have sold his aëroplane to the government, and have paid off the mortgage. but he didn't live, because a _supposed_ accident happened to his aëroplane." the broker's lips were dry, and again and again he moistened them with his tongue. the demons grew harder, and brighter, and more merciless in his eyes. the spark was doing well, but it had not yet been advanced to the limit. it was the spark of friendship, but it was coming into its own through devious ways. the friendship was to be between poor old prebbles and his son; but it was to result in something else between newt and murgatroyd, and prove powerful enough to force the two apart. "murgatroyd has been paying you money, newt," resumed matt, "to keep in the background and remain silent about what you know. is the scoundrel worth protecting? is it worth while to take hush money from him? the bribes he has been giving you, he collected from your father by means of duebills to which he had forged your name." fierce anger flamed in newt's face. matt, seeing that an explosion was close, hastened on. "your father is now lying ill at fort totten. it is doubtful whether he can live--and he certainly cannot unless you go back with me and be to him what you have not been in the past--a son." the red faded from newt prebbles' face and a deathly pallor came in its stead. stepping over to matt, he dropped both hands on his shoulders and looked him steadily in the eyes. "motor matt," said he, "are you telling me the truth about my father? he is dangerously sick at fort totten? don't you lie to me," he warned fiercely. "i am telling you the truth." "and those forged i o u's--where did you learn about them?" "from your father, as i have already told you." "it's like murgatroyd," said newt, between his teeth. "he did want traquair's homestead, because he happened to discover that there is coal under the soil, and the railroad company will buy the hundred and sixty at a fancy price and run a spur track to it, so----" the explosion came, at that moment, but it was not as matt expected. while newt prebbles stood facing matt, his back to the broker, there came the sound of a blow. pain convulsed newt's face for the fraction of a second, his eyes closed, and he dropped senseless, overturning matt and his chair with the force of his fall. lying bound and helpless, matt heard sounds of quick footsteps, and saw murgatroyd bending down over him. chapter xii. the trail to the river. joe mcglory and ping were in a fine good humor. they had left the horses and rifles for the tin cup men and, from the top of a distant hill, they had watched the party recover the live stock and the guns. then, laughing and congratulating themselves, the boys had ducked in among the cottonwoods of the creek bottom and started along the trail to the river. "plenty fine," chattered ping. "by klismus, my gettee heap fun this tlip. woosh!" "we played 'em to a fare-you-well," laughed mcglory, pausing to extend his hand to ping. "shake, my little heathen brother! you're the finest bit of the yellow peril that ever landed in the u. s. you've got a head on you, you have. why, you savvied right off what i wanted you to do with those guns, and i didn't have to say a word." "my savvy look you makee all same eye," chuckled ping. "top-side pidgin! one piecee fine bizness." then, abruptly, ping had a swift, paralyzing thought. "mebbyso melican men makee chase fo' mcgloly and ping, huh?" he cried. "plaps we lun, ketchee matt, no lettee melican men ketchee us?" "oh, shucks, ping!" exclaimed mcglory disgustedly. "when you forget yourself, now and then, and do a particularly bright thing, you spoil it all by some break of that sort. those punchers don't know where we're going! and what sort of a trail are we leaving?" the cowboy turned and looked back over the ground they had covered. "all buffalo grass," he finished, "and the tin cup outfit couldn't run us down in a thousand years." but ping's fears persisted, in spite of mcglory's attempt to smother them. "my no likee," he quavered, pausing again and again to look back as they traveled. "mebbyso they ketchee, they takee scalp. my no likee. losee pigtail, no go back to china ally mo'." "well, well, don't blubber about it!" exclaimed mcglory. "you'll keep the pigtail, all right, though what in sam hill it's good for is more than i know. buck up, step high, wide, and handsome, and don't lose so much time looking around. just stow it away in your mind, ping, that every step on the trail to the river brings us that much closer to pard matt." mcglory took the lead and set a brisk pace. "didn't matt get away in great shape?" he called out, as he strode along. "and that rope spearman tied to the machine didn't amount to a row of dobies." "cloud joss heap fine fo' tlavel," remarked ping. "feet tlavel plenty tough fo' china boy." "i guess the circus we pulled off, back there on that hill, was worth the price, ping. don't grumble. there was something doing, and you and i answered to roll-call during the height of the agitation. little chop suey and your uncle joe had something to say and do every minute the curtain was up. oh, shucks! i'm tickled to death with myself. i'll be plumb contented, now, if nothing happens to me for the next fifteen minutes. wonder how matt's getting along, advancing that spark? something gives me a hunch and whispers in my ear that he's having his hands full. put your best foot forward, ping, and let's see how quick we can get to where we're going." "no gottee best foot," complained ping. "both feets allee same bum. cleek makee bend, makee bend, makee bend; heap walkee to go li'l way." "that's right," agreed mcglory. "sufferin' serpents, how the creek twists! suppose we climb to the top of this hill on the right and see if we can't work a cut-off on the pesky stream." "awri'," agreed ping, and followed mcglory to the top of the hill. from the crest they had an extensive view in every direction; in fact, it was almost too extensive, for behind them they glimpsed the tin cup men, racing back and forth over the uplifts, scattered widely and hunting for "signs." mcglory muttered to himself and slipped off the top of the hill like a shot. ping gasped as he followed. "they ketchee china boy," he wailed, "him losee pigtail." "oh, hush about that," growled mcglory. "do you know where we was lame, ping?" "my plenty lame in feet," said ping. "i mean, where we made a hobble. it was by not keeping two of those horses and using them to take us to the mouth of burnt creek." "woosh! we ketchee matt now, melican men follow tlail, ketchee matt, too. motol matt go top-side, we all go top-side. plenty bad pidgin." "if they're really following us, which i don't think," remarked mcglory, "we'll fool 'em." "no fool 'em twice." "you watch. we'll take the longest way to the river and get that bunch away from the creek." ping groaned at the thought of more walking. he could have stood the journey better if he had not been compelled to hang onto his grass sandals with his toes. mcglory scuttled off between the coteaus, and every once in a while he would climb to the top of a hill to reconnoiter along the back track. finally, to his great satisfaction, he lost sight of the tin cup men. "that means," said he, when he reported the fact to ping, "that we're free, once more, to get to the mouth of burnt creek as soon as we can." from that on there was little talking. the boys needed their breath for the work before them. as before, mcglory led the way and ping hopped and scuffled along behind him. an occasional hill was scaled to get the bearings of the creek and watch out for the river. mcglory gave a shout of joy when he finally saw the broad ribbon of muddy water in the distance ahead. "we're close to where we're bound for, ping," he said cheerily. "we've been two or three hours on the hike, but you trail along and i'll land you at the junction of the creek and the river in less than twenty minutes. whoop-ya! i'm guessing about matt. has it been make or break with him? and how has the spark worked? i'm all stirred up with the notion that he's having a time. ever get a hunch like that and not be able to explain how you got it?" "no savvy hunch," groaned ping. "let's findee place to makee sit in shade. heap tired." "we'll sit in the shade and rest and enjoy ourselves after we find matt. keep a-moving, ping, keep a-moving." a pass between two hills brought them out into the creek bottom again. the sun was getting low in the west, but it was still uncomfortably warm, and the shade of the cottonwood trees was refreshing. ping tottered along with his eyes on mcglory's heels. suddenly the cowboy stopped and whirled around. "look!" he murmured, pointing. the chinaman swerved his weary eyes in the direction indicated and saw the sod shack. "hoop-a-la!" he exclaimed. "i hear voices in there," whispered mcglory, "and i'll bet pard matt's busy laying down the law to newt prebbles. let's not interrupt, but slip carefully up to the door and get the lay of the land before we butt in." ping was for getting to a place of comfort and refreshment in the shortest possible time; but, as usual, he deferred to the superior wisdom of the cowboy. silently they stole toward the open door of the hut. through the opening there came to them the sound of a voice. it was a strange voice, and the words were not distinguishable. while they were still some distance from the door, the voice was blotted out by the impact of a blow; and immediately there came a crash as of something being overturned. mcglory was no longer anxious to "get the lay of the land" before butting into matt's argument with newt prebbles. in an instant he jumped for the door and stood peering into the hut. the scene before him was difficult to comprehend. a chair had been overturned, and there was a form--no, two forms--lying on the floor beside it. then, too, there was some one else, a man, bending over one of the forms. the dark interior of the shack was not favorable to a clear survey of the scene by eyes but recently turned from the glaring sunshine. mcglory, however, caught one detail of the picture that wrenched a sharp cry from his lips. "murgatroyd!" he shouted. the bent form lifted itself with catlike quickness, _crack!_ the sharp note of a revolver rattled through the narrow room, followed by a warning shout in a well-known voice: "look out, joe! it's murgatroyd, and he's in a killing mood!" matt was in the room, bound and helpless. that was the next detail that flashed before the eyes of mcglory. murgatroyd's shot had missed. mad with rage, he was making ready to fire again. blindly, desperately, the cowboy flung himself across the room. pard matt was there, and in danger. think of himself, mcglory would not. the demons in the broker's eyes glowered murderously along the sights of the leveled weapon. it seemed as though nothing could save the cowboy. at just that moment, however, a window behind the broker crashed inward. a stone, hurled by ping with all his force, had shattered the glass, plunged across the gap, and struck murgatroyd's arm. the arm dropped as though paralyzed, and the broker staggered sideways with a cry of pain. mcglory sprang upon him, and the two were struggling fiercely when ping raced into the room and took a hand in the battle. murgatroyd, with only one hand, was no match for his wiry young antagonists. as newt and murgatroyd had overpowered matt, so the cowboy and the chinaman wrestled and secured the advantage of murgatroyd. one of the forms on the floor slowly lifted itself and became busy with the cords around matt's wrists. "i can do the rest, newt," said matt, sitting up and freeing his ankles. a few moments more and the tables had been completely turned. murgatroyd was now the prisoner, and the king of the motor boys and his friends were in command of the situation. chapter xiii. unwelcome callers. once more, during the course of that eventful day, ping was to be congratulated on his quickness and wit. mcglory had gone to the door to make his survey of what was transpiring inside the sod shack, and ping had approached a window. the revolver shot caused the chinese boy to jump, and to debate in his startled mind whether it would be better to run, or to hold his ground. he held his ground and used the stone--to the lasting benefit of joe mcglory. now, at last, it seemed, the brawling and the violence was over. murgatroyd lay in the place where matt had lain, newt prebbles was bathing his injured head in a basin of cool water, and matt, mcglory, and ping were sitting down and explaining to each other how everything had happened. "you were foolish to talk like you did to murgatroyd, when he had the best of you, matt," said mcglory. "he didn't have the best of me," asserted matt. "i had made a friend by that talk, and the friend was newt prebbles." "that's the truth," spoke up newt, turning his head for a look at matt. "well, then," bristled mcglory, "maybe you'll explain why you helped murgatroyd down matt, in the first place?" "i was to blame there," answered newt, "but i didn't understand the situation. everything had been sprung on me all of a heap, as you might say, and i was dazed and bewildered. murgatroyd had come here because i had written and asked him to. he had money for me, as i supposed, and i considered myself in duty bound to help him. later, when motor matt did his talking, i discovered some things which put up the bars between murgatroyd and me. that last thump on the head, of course, topped off the whole affair. murgatroyd was crazy mad, that's all. he hit me with something harder than his bare knuckles. was it the handle of his revolver?" "maybe it was this," and mcglory leaned forward and picked a pair of brass knuckle dusters off the clay floor. "that's what he used," declared prebbles. "i have always feared," said matt, "that our dealings with murgatroyd would end in some violent work, like this. and it was all for a hundred and sixty acres of coal land, which would have netted murgatroyd only a few thousand dollars, at the most!" the broker's anger had vanished with his capture, and left him miserable in spirit; but, even now, while his fortunes were at lowest ebb, his crafty mind led him to think of some way out of his troubles. "you've got me," said he, with a bitter laugh. "i didn't think you lads could do it, but you've turned the trick. are you any better off?" "speak to me about that!" muttered mcglory. "matt's a heap better off. i don't know what you were going to do, when ping and i showed up, but i'm feeling a whole lot easier to have this matter just as it is." "so am i better off," put in newt prebbles. "i've led a hard life, and i've been a hard man, but i'm the only one to blame for that. and i know this: association with amos murgatroyd, for any length of time, is an excellent passport to the penitentiary." "that's right, newt," said the broker scathingly. "you know on which side your bread is buttered. get on the side of the winning team, by all means. but i wasn't talking to you or mcglory, but to motor matt." his voice changed to a pleading tone. "i'm wrecked, motor matt," he went on, "if you turn me over to the authorities. there's nothing in my past life that's so very criminal. of course, knowing what i did about the traquair homestead, i was anxious to get hold of it. but that's out of my power, now. you've been put to a good deal of inconvenience, but i'll make that all up to you in dollars and cents if you'll take these ropes off me and let me clear out." "you say," said matt, "that there's nothing in your past that is so very criminal. if that's so, why are you afraid to face the music? why do you want to shirk the consequences?" "even a short term of imprisonment will ruin my loan business," answered murgatroyd. "i have built that business up very carefully, and i hate to see it go to smash. i tell you what i'll do. if you'll release me, i'll wipe out that mortgage of one thousand dollars which i hold on the traquair homestead, and i'll give you and your friends a thousand apiece, all around. what do you say?" "i'm sorry for you, murgatroyd," said matt, "but i haven't any authority to set you free, even if i was inclined that way. it's the government that wants you; and the government wants you so much that a price has been placed on your head. you've danced, and now you've got to pay the fiddler." "he says he hasn't done anything so very criminal," remarked newt prebbles, as he tied a handkerchief around his head. "i'd like to know what he calls criminal." "well," sneered the broker, "i haven't been bribed for keeping what i know away from the authorities." "as i was bribed," retorted newt hotly, "with money my own father paid you for forged duebills!" murgatroyd laughed, and it was the laugh of a wretch utterly devoid of conscience. "that _was_ rather a neat play of mine," said he. "but you haven't given me your answer yet, motor matt." "yes, i have," said matt. "you're going to fort totten." "and so am i," put in newt prebbles, "just as quick as i can get there. i'll take murgatroyd's horse and ride to bismarck. there's a night train i can catch for jamestown, and i ought to be at the post some time before noon, to-morrow." "you can't get there any too quick," observed mcglory caustically. he had no liking for newt prebbles. a man who would do what newt prebbles had done could never stand very high in the cowboy's estimation. "you'd better watch that fellow, motor matt," called murgatroyd. "he'll not go to the post, but will clear out for parts unknown." "he'll go to the post, i'm sure of it," said matt. "i will," declared newt. "my father and i never agreed very well, but i guess that was my fault, too. when you leave here, motor matt, just lock the door and bring the key. i don't know whether i'll ever come back to this shack or not--i don't think i will, as i feel now--but it will be well for me to have the key. good-by." he stepped toward the king of the motor boys and extended his hand. "haven't you forgotten something, newt?" inquired matt. prebbles gave him a blank look. the next moment he understood what matt had reference to, and pulled a jingling bag from his pocket and tossed it upon the table. "that's the whole of it," he said. "you'll see that it is returned?" matt nodded. "that means that i'll have to walk to totten, or ride murgatroyd's horse," prebbles added, as he moved toward the door. matt was about to lend him the money for his railroad ticket, when a form darkened the door and stepped into the room. "goin' somewheres?" queried a voice. "well, i wouldn't, george--not jest yet." it was jed spearman. behind him came slim, and back of slim trailed the cowboy who had been referred to as "hen." matt, greatly alarmed, sprang up and stepped forward. "don't lay a hand on that man, spearman," said matt. "his father is sick at fort totten, and he's got to go there in a hurry." "oh, ho!" guffawed the foreman. "if here ain't motor matt, who was flyin' this way on gov'ment bizness! an' the chink that run off with the guns, an' t'other chap as lit out with our live stock. waal, now, ain't this here a pleasin' surprise--fer us? don't git vi'lent, any o' ye. three o' us is in here, and thar's three more watchin' on the outside. i reckon the boot's on the other leg, this deal, hey, slim?" "i reckon," agreed slim. "this is a whole lot funnier than that other game, over on the coteau." "don't ye ask us ter put down our guns an' do no more pushin'," said spearman. "ye kain't work that joke on us twicet, hand-runnin'. we've cut our eyeteeth, we hev. got any weppins among ye?" newt prebbles, glaring at the tin cup men, had backed into a corner. he had his eye on the broken window, and spearman observed his intention. "don't ye never try _that_, george," he grinned. "ye'd be riddled like a salt shaker afore ye'd hit the ground." "spearman," said matt, "you don't understand this matter. if you did----" "thar was some parts o' it i didn't onderstand none too well, back thar on the hill, a few hours ago. but ye heered me say we'd cut our eyeteeth, didn't ye? i meant jest that." "i came here on government duty, just as i said," went on matt, "and if you interfere with me in any way, you'll regret it." "will i? waal, life is plumb full o' sorrers an' regrets. who's the gent on the floor?" "i'm a helpless victim of these young scoundrels," said murgatroyd plaintively. "release me, gentlemen, and do an act of simple justice!" "his name is murgatroyd," corrected matt, "and the government has offered a reward of a thousand dollars for his capture." "that's your story fer it, young man. i ain't takin' your word fer nothin'. slim, step over an' cut the gent loose." slim started. matt stepped in front of him. "leave that man alone!" ordered matt. "you fellows, i suppose," he continued, turning to spearman, "have come here after the money prebbles took from you at the ranch. he was leaving it with me to deliver to you, just as you came." "likely yarn," scoffed jed spearman, taking a chair in the doorway. "consider yerselves pris'ners, all o' ye. we ain't so terribly het up over motor matt, and we ain't so mad at t'other feller or the chink as we mout be, seein' as how they left us our hosses an' guns an' then trailed straight fer this place whar we diskiver george hobbes. it's hobbes we want, an' i tell ye plain we're goin' ter play bob with him afore we're done. that's flat." chapter xiv. an unexpected turn. motor matt was never more at sea than he was at that moment. what could he, and mcglory, and ping do against six armed cowboys who, because of their hostility, would not listen to reason? jed spearman and his companions could do exactly as they pleased. they could take the law into their own hands, so far as newt prebbles was concerned, and delay his departure for fort totten; and, in reckless defiance of what matt said, they could release murgatroyd. ping, so far from being a factor of strength in the slender force to be mustered against the cowboys, was a decided element of weakness. he was afraid he was going to lose his queue, and the fear had made him almost daft. "slim," called spearman, tilting back in his chair and fanning himself with his hat, "jest count the _dinero_ in that bag an' see how much it foots up." slim slouched over to the table, matt, meanwhile, standing guard between him and murgatroyd. with elaborate ease, slim dumped the contents of the pouch on the table and proceeded to count the gold pieces. "why, jed," he called, "i'm blamed if it ain't all here, an' a dollar more'n what we lost." "keep the dollar fer int'rest, slim," said spearman generously. "tell me, hen," he proceeded, "what we're goin' ter do to the low-down tinhorn who run in them fancy tricks on us at the bunk house?" "hang 'im," replied hen promptly. "oh, ye're altogether too desp'rit. somethin' lighter'n that. what say, slim?" "waal," replied slim, "i'd suggest runnin' him out o' the kentry, jed. we ain't got no room, in these parts, fer a robber like what this feller is. the law kain't tech him, ye know." "hev we got ter waste our vallyble time pusson'ly conductin' sich a missable galoot across the border?" asked spearman. "thar's a hoss among the cottonwoods, jed. let's tie the tinhorn ter his back, take off the hoss' bridle, an' then chase the critter fer a ways. that 'u'd do the trick." "gentlemen," came the imploring voice of murgatroyd, "that animal belongs to me. i beg of you not to use him in your scheme of punishment. how shall i get back to bismarck after you release me?" "stop yer talkin', you!" scowled spearman. "i reckon, if we turn ye loose, that ort ter be about all ye kin ask. slim," he added to his comrade, "yer suggestion is in good taste, an' hes my approval. the trick hes been done afore, an' allers, i make no doubt, with good an' lastin' effects ter the community. pris'ner, hev ye got anythin' ter say?" "only this," replied newt prebbles. "my father is lying sick at fort totten. he needs me. if you try to tie me to that horse and send me across the border, i'll fight till i drop. what more do you want?" he cried passionately. "i gambled with you, and i resorted to a gambler's tricks, but i have returned more money than i took." "ye returned the money bekase ye had ter," said spearman grimly. "if us fellers hadn't blowed in here, we wouldn't 'a' got it." "you're wrong there, spearman," called matt. "i have told you once, and i repeat it now, that prebbles gave up that moment before he, or any of the rest of us, knew you were coming here. i protest against such inhuman treatment as you're planning to give him." "all right," grinned spearman, "protest. now, we'll let that drap while we consider the case o' the gent on the floor. i reckon, motor matt, ye're plumb anxious ter take him ter totten, ain't ye?" "i am," answered matt. "as i told you, he's wanted by the government." "it 'u'd be a feather in yer cap if ye toted him in, wouldn't it?" "i don't know anything about that, and i don't care. he's a scoundrel, and ought to be punished." "an' thar's a thousand out fer him?" "yes." "which ye'd git?" "no. it goes to another man." spearman drew down an eyelid in a knowing wink. "'course i ain't swallerin' that, not noways. it was right funny, that thing ye done over on the hill. i reckon ye've laughed a-considerable about that, hey? i didn't git a chance ter fly with ye, an' the boys hev been joshin' me ever sence about it. ye ort ter be punished somehow, an' i reckon the easiest and best way ter do that is by letting yer pris'ner go. ye won't hev no feather in yer cap, an' ye won't hev no thousand dollars. slim!" "on deck, jed." "i ordered ye, a while ago, ter let that man loose. now, i order ye ag'in. this time, i want it done!" "wait a second!" cried matt. "spearman," he went on, "are you such a fool you think you can punish me by allowing this man his freedom?" "keerful!" warned the foreman. "don't git ter callin' names. i won't stand fer that, not fer a minit." "if you allow this criminal to go, you'll be getting yourself into hot water--you won't be hurting me." "i know what i'm about. slim!" slim started toward motor matt, swinging one hand carelessly but significantly behind him. "keep away," said matt, a dangerous light rising in his eyes. "you'll not let this man go." "are you going to let yourself be bluffed by a fellow of his size?" taunted murgatroyd, taking another tack. "no words from you," growled spearman. slim undoubtedly felt that it was up to him to let the foreman and hen know what he was good for. he had a natural delicacy about using a weapon against an unarmed youth, so he made the mistake of thinking he could eliminate the barrier with his hands. "side-step!" he commanded. matt held his ground. "waal, if ye won't, then take that." slim swung his fist. what happened, then, must have astonished him exceedingly. his fist clove the empty air, and before he could recover his poise he was struck a blow that heaved him over against hen, and toppled both of them against the wall. "jumpin' jee-mimy!" stuttered slim, rubbing his chin. "he hits like the kick of a mule--an' it was about as quick." "oh, blazes!" growled spearman, in disgust. "hen, you help. if the two o' ye ain't enough, i'll join in." mcglory had pressed closer to matt's side. the two chums were now shoulder to shoulder. "i'm a cowboy myself," cried mcglory, "and if you longhorns have come out prancin' for trouble, i guess we can accommodate you." but the matter was never brought to an issue. a shrill whistle echoed from the outside. spearman jumped to his feet. "that's from one o' our boys," said he. "what's doin'?" the next moment spearman knew. a khaki-clad officer appeared in the doorway, covered with the dust of a hard ride. standing there, for an instant, he surveyed the interior of the shack. "cameron!" cried matt joyfully. "whoop-ya!" roared mcglory. "lieutenant cameron, of the old u. s. a. speak to me about that! he's just in time." "who's leftenant cameron?" snorted spearman. "i don't know him from adam." "possibly not," answered cameron, "but, fortunately, i've got a man with me whom you do know. come in, roscoe!" called the lieutenant, stepping farther into the room. a burly individual slouched through the doorway and stood looking out from under his bushy brows at spearman. the foreman's careless air left him in a flash. he fell back a step. "roscoe!" "surest thing you know," replied the burly individual, "roscoe, sheriff of burleigh. now, what's been going on here?" there was something humorous, after that, in spearman's attempt to explain. the whole story was finally given by matt, and listened to with attention. the sheriff, when all the details were in, drew a large slab of tobacco from his pocket and nibbled off a corner. "who's got the money that was won at the bunk house?" he asked calmly. "slim, thar," answered spearman. "fork over, slim." slim promptly tossed the bag to roscoe. "if you tin cup men haven't got sense enough to keep from being skinned," remarked the sheriff, "you ought to be done out of your eyeteeth. and, furthermore, you haven't any call to chase the man that was too sharp for you and try to run him out of the country. you fellows at the tin cup are a heap too lawless. i've had my eye on you for quite a spell. the money goes to the man that took it. here, stranger! i'm not approving of the way it was come by, mark you, but, so far as the ethics of this case are concerned, the money is yours." "i don't want it," was the astounding response from newt prebbles. "i'm a different man from what i was when i got that away from the tin cup fellows." the sheriff stared, then calmly dropped the bag into his own pocket. "i'll accept the donation," said he, "and pass it along to the bismarck orphan asylum. now, spearman," and he stepped over and tapped the foreman on the chest, "i wish i could take you to town with me for planning to release a badly wanted man. but i can't. all i can say is that i've got my eye on you. scatter out of this. that will be about all." the tin cup men "scattered." as the galloping hoofs died away in the distance, lieutenant cameron stepped over and caught matt's hand. "i guess i was of some use, after all, eh, matt? you fellows have had most of the fun, but i managed to get here in time to save you some unpleasantness." "you did," answered motor matt gratefully, wringing the brave fellow's hand. "you've saved the prisoner, and made it possible for prebbles' son to get to the post in time to----" "wait," interrupted cameron, pulling a yellow slip from his pocket. "that reached me just as the sheriff and i were leaving bismarck." matt took the telegram. it was brief, but terribly to the point. "prebbles can't last more than twenty-four hours, at the outside. useless to bring his son." this was signed by the doctor. silently matt passed the telegram to newt. young prebbles read it, dropped into a chair, and buried his face in his hands. chapter xv. a risky venture. while roscoe was removing the ropes from murgatroyd's hands and replacing them with a pair of steel manacles, matt and mcglory stepped out of the shack for a brief talk. "young prebbles is pretty badly cut up," said cameron. "he ought to be," said mcglory. "i reckon this is a lesson for him, and for any other young fellow who feels like taking the bit in his teeth." "it's pretty tough," murmured matt, shaking his head. "there's good stuff in young prebbles." "that's pard matt for you, cameron," said the cowboy. "he always looks for the good stuff in a fellow and never sees much of anything else." "after all," approved cameron, "that's the best way. but i'll warrant matt can't find much to commend in murgatroyd." "he's old enough to know right from wrong," said matt, "and now that he's made his bed, he's got to lie in it. where did you find the sheriff, cameron?" "wired him i was coming, and he met me at the train with a couple of riding horses. they couldn't remember anything definite at the post office, although one of the clerks had a hazy recollection that some one had called for a letter addressed to hobbes. that's all we had to go on. we hit the trail and rode hard." "good thing you did. if you hadn't ridden so hard you might have got here too late." "what a day this has been! i should think you fellows would be about fagged." before matt could make any response, newt prebbles came out of the shack. "i'm going, just the same," said he doggedly. "there's no way you can get to the post in time, prebbles," returned cameron kindly. "i'll get there, anyhow, whether i'm late or not. good heavens! you don't understand what this means to me! you don't know----" he bit his lips to keep back the emotion that grew with the words. "i've just got to go," he finished. "i'll get through somehow." "how'll you get from here to bismarck?" inquired cameron. "on murgatroyd's horse." "your connections are poor all the way through. you'll not be able to reach totten before to-morrow afternoon." "i'm going." "wait," said matt. "are you willing to take a little risk, prebbles?" "risk? i'd take any risk if it could shorten my trip to totten by a single hour." "do you know the country between here and totten?" "every foot of it." "by night as well as by day?" "any time." "let's get a little something to eat," said matt, "and then i'll agree to get you to totten inside of three hours." "how?" "we'll use the aëroplane." there was a silence, then a protest from mcglory. "pard, you're not made of iron. you can't stand that trip, after all you've done. sufferin' cats! why, you're workin' every second you're runnin' the _comet_! and it's the hardest kind of work, at that." "i can do it," said matt, looking around at the gathering dusk. "but we'll have to start before it gets too dark." "look at the risk!" "we'll face it. besides, it's not so much." there was no arguing with matt. he had his mind made up and was like a rock. "you and ping, joe," said matt, "will come with cameron and murgatroyd. have you a lantern, newt?" "yes." "get it." the lantern was secured and lighted. after matt had hastily bolted a few mouthfuls of food, he took the lantern and started for the place where he had left the _comet_. cameron, ping, and mcglory accompanied the king of the motor boys and newt prebbles. roscoe remained at the shack with murgatroyd. the rope with which the aëroplane had been made fast to the trees was taken off, and matt, while he was going over the machine to see that everything was in proper order, told mcglory to hunt for a favorable place to make the start. when matt had finished his inspection, the cowboy had selected the nearest spot which was at all promising. "it's at the top of the bank, matt," said mcglory. "there's a clear stretch, sloping slightly to the east." "then let's get the machine up there." the _comet_, a ghostly monstrosity in the gloom, was pushed and pulled to the top of the bank and pointed down the slight slope. matt walked over the course of the start with the lantern, to make sure there were no stones in the way. "we don't want the lantern," said matt, coming back and handing the light to mcglory. "lock up the shack when you leave and bring the key with you, joe." mcglory was nervous and apprehensive. he grabbed matt's hand before he took his seat. "it's a risky venture," he breathed. "a little risk, of course," answered matt. "there always is." "but this is night, pard. you never tried to fly the machine at night before." "there's always got to be a first time." "there's some wind, too." "not enough to be dangerous." "you'll win out, motor matt," said cameron; "you always do." "there's got to be a first time when he won't," croaked mcglory dismally. "take your seat, newt," said matt. newt, without a word, placed himself as directed. "i guess we're all ready," called matt, starting the motor. "help us in the getaway, you fellows." cameron, mcglory, and ping pushed the car down the slope through the dusk. finally it drew away from them, and they saw it, like a huge spectre, sailing skyward. newt prebbles undoubtedly remembered more about that daring night trip than motor matt. the king of the motor boys had eyes and ears for nothing but his work. the propeller whirled the great planes on and on into the gloom, and sense of touch alone told matt when to meet the varying points of air pressure by a shift of the wing tips. newt said little, and what he did say was in the nature of directions for keeping the _comet_ on the right course. with eyes peering ahead and downward, he watched the dusky panorama flitting away below them. matt admired his courage. calm and steady, he kept rigidly to his place, interfered in no way with the freedom of matt's movements, and watched alertly for the landmarks with which he was familiar. whenever they swept over a cluster of lights, young prebbles named the town instantly. the stars came out in the dusky vault overhead, and a big moon crept up over the horizon. swinging through space, hung from the zenith as by invisible cords, the _comet_ glided steadily and surely onward. "oberon," announced newt, as they swept across a gleaming mat of yellow. "great spark plugs!" exclaimed the king of the motor boys. "i don't know, newt, but i've a notion we're making a record flight." "it's wonderful," mused young prebbles; "but there's something which, to my mind, is even more wonderful than this work of the flying machine." "what's that?" "why, that you're doing this for me--for a man who nearly drowned himself trying to get away from you, and who tried his best to cripple you, or the _comet_, with a bullet." "we all of us make mistakes, now and then," answered matt. "it's a mighty foolish man who won't rectify a mistake when he finds he has made one." from oberon the course led north and east. "there's the post trader's store," reported prebbles. "that means we're just about where we're going," said matt. "where'll we come down?" "on the parade ground at the post." when near the old fort, they could hear the call of the sentries, and were able to mark the fringe of oil lamps around the barracks and officers' quarters. silently, like a wraith from the unknown, they dropped downward, struck on the bicycle wheels, and glided to a stop. "be hivins," cried a voice, "it's th' _comet_. now what would you be afther thinkin' av that? th' _comet_, d'ye moind, rammin' around in th' dark th' same as if it was broad day. is that yerself, motor matt?" "yes," said matt, stepping out of the machine. "how's prebbles, o'hara?" "th' ould sawbones has given up hope, an' that's all i kin tell ye. but who is it ye have along?" "prebbles' son. take him up to cameron's quarters at once, will you?" "sure i will." "i'll see you in the morning, newt," matt added. young prebbles paused to grasp matt's hand. "i appreciate what you have done for me, don't forget that," he said. matt gave the _comet_ into the care of a guard, then hunted up a place to sleep. his head had hardly dropped on the pillow before he was off for the land of dreams. chapter xvi. conclusion. doctors are not infallible, and the post doctor was no exception in this respect. all his experience and skill in diagnosing the ills of humanity, made him certain that prebbles was booked for the other world. but there was an error--and, more than likely, that error was due to the arrival of newt, who, it will be remembered, the doctor had wired it would be useless to send. prebbles was singing his salvation army hymns when newt stepped into the sick room. all night he was marching the streets, in his disordered mind, pounding the cymbals and exhorting. occasionally there crept into the oral wanderings a reference to the young man watching at the bedside. most unexpectedly--most unaccountably, to the doctor--a lucid moment came to prebbles in the early morning. he saw his son, he recognized him, and he felt his handclasp. there was a smile on the old man's lips as he drifted back into his sea of visions. but, from that moment, there was a noticeable change. there seemed more resisting power in the wasted body of the old clerk, as though hope for better things had grown up in him and was giving him strength. to matt, newt prebbles told what he knew about the accident to poor harry traquair. siwash charley, under agreement with murgatroyd, had tampered with traquair's machine before the fatal flight, just as he had tampered with matt's machine before the official trials at fort totten. but traquair had not been so fortunate as the king of the motor boys. newt had learned of this villainous work through siwash charley, and had received from siwash, at a time when the ruffian was under the influence of liquor, an incriminating note from the broker, signed with his _alias_, "george hobbes." prebbles had made use of this document, holding it over murgatroyd's head and extorting money from him on account of it. this, of course, formed a sad commentary on the character of young prebbles. but motor matt, in "advancing the spark of friendship," so played upon the facts in the case, and showed up the broker's duplicity, that the old clerk's illness formed the turning point in his son's career. such transformations are not so rare as it would seem. cameron, matt, ping, and roscoe arrived at the post in the afternoon following the arrival of matt and young prebbles. murgatroyd, of course, accompanied them. murgatroyd was tried, not on the traquair charge, but on the later one of conniving, with siwash charley, to injure the aëroplane at the government trials, thus endangering the life, not only of motor matt, but of lieutenant cameron as well. his sentence was commensurate with the evil he had attempted, and he followed siwash charley to the leavenworth prison. after a few days the post doctor was as certain prebbles would recover as he had been positive, at the time he sent his message to cameron, that he had not many hours to live. the reward paid by the government for the capture of murgatroyd was made over to the old clerk. on this, he and his son were to begin life anew. one of the first things matt did, after reaching the post with newt prebbles, was to write to mrs. traquair, at jamestown, settling a mystery which had long puzzled every one who knew of murgatroyd's attempts to secure the wells county homestead. there was coal under the soil of the quarter-section, and the railroad company wanted it. that was the secret, and mrs. traquair profited handsomely by the knowledge of it. the mortgage was paid, and the homestead passed into the hands of the railroad company. in a country so barren of trees as north dakota, coal is a valuable commodity. matt still kept the aëroplane, and still persistently refused to put it in storage at the post, to be called for later. "the _comet_," said matt, one evening when he and mcglory were again with cameron, "has got to earn something for joe, and ping, and myself." "ping comes in on the deal, does he?" laughed cameron. "share and share alike with the rest of us," averred matt. "that chinese boy is loyalty itself. down in that shelter tent, below the post trader's, he spends his nights and days watching the aëroplane." "and talking to it, and singing about it, and burning rice-paper prayers to the heathen josses, asking them to keep it carefully and not let it go broke while up in the air," put in mcglory. "oh, he's a freak, that ping boy; but, as matt says, he's a mighty good sort of a freak at that. look how he ran off with the rifles when we fooled the tin cup punchers on the hill! and remember how he slammed that stone through the window when murgatroyd had drawn a fine bead on me and was about to press the trigger. share and share alike? well, i should say." "you're still determined to go into the show business, matt?" asked cameron anxiously. "i don't see why we shouldn't," said matt. "five hundred a week isn't to be sneezed at. joe's agreed, and so has ping. when the first favorable day arrives, we're going to fly to fargo." two days later the favorable moment was at hand. all the soldiers at the post were out to witness the start, and even the gruff post trader was present to say good-by to the king of the motor boys and his friends. matt's last call, at the post, was made on prebbles. the old man was practically out of danger, but his recovery would take time, and for a long while yet he would have to remain in bed. he was not able to say much, but what little he did say matt considered an ample reward for the strenuous adventures that had befallen him and his chums on their flight to the upper missouri. newt had become his sworn friend. whenever matt wanted any help, in any way that was within newt's power to grant, he was surely to call on young prebbles. when finally motor matt took his way down the post hill for the last time, he was in an exceedingly thoughtful mood. he remembered when he had first come to devil's lake, knowing nothing about aëroplanes, and had practiced with the _june bug_ until he had acquired the knack of flying the machine and had made good and sold the machine to the government for enough to give large profit to himself and his friends, and, what pleased him most, to place mrs. traquair above want. he remembered, too, how he had sailed away alone into wells county on a fool's errand, had become entangled in a losing cause, and had experienced a sharp reverse. but, best of all, in his estimation, was the night journey back to the post from the missouri river, bringing newt prebbles to his father's bedside. down into the cheering throng below the post trader's store went the king of the motor boys, shaking hands with every one he met, indians, whites, or "breeds," receiving good wishes from all and heartily returning them. for the last time the aëroplane was dragged from the shelter tent, given a strong start along the old familiar roadway, and then watched as it climbed up and up into the air and winged swiftly eastward, carrying motor matt, and joe mcglory, and ping into untried ventures and fresh fields of endeavor. the end. the next number ( ) will contain motor matt's engagement; or, on the road with a show. "on the banks of the wabash"--in the calliope tent--an eavesdropper--queer proceedings--motor matt protests--a blaze in the air--was it treachery?--a call for help--black magic--the mahout's flight--the paper trail--carl turns a trick--the lacquered box--the hypnotist's victim--"for the sake of haidee"--the rajah's niece motor stories thrilling adventure motor fiction new york, august , . terms to motor stories mail subscribers. (_postage free._) single copies or back numbers, c. each. months c. months c. months $ . one year . copies one year . copy two years . =how to send money=--by post-office or express money-order, registered letter, bank check or draft, at our risk. at your own risk if sent by currency, coin, or postage-stamps in ordinary letter. =receipts=--receipt of your remittance is acknowledged by proper change of number on your label. if not correct you have not been properly credited, and should let us know at once. ormond g. smith, } george c. smith, } _proprietors_. street & smith, publishers, - seventh avenue, new york city. mose howard's fish trap. nicodemus squab, professor of orthography in the jimtown district school, was a man of an inquiring turn of mind. overhearing some of the scholars discussing a prospective coon hunt that was to come off the following saturday night, the professor drew near and inquired if they would allow him to join them. "of course you kin jine us," said mose howard, who was the ringleader in all the devilment in the neighborhood. "glad tu have you go 'long. we'll come by for you." "thank you," said the professor. "i never was coon hunting in my life, though i've always wanted to go--just to see how it is done, you know." according to promise, mose howard, dick miller, and joe smiley came by for the professor, who was ready and waiting, and who joined the hunters, anticipating a jolly old time. after winding up the coon hunt, which resulted in the capture of five possums and three coons, mose howard proposed that they should go back by the fish trap and catch a mess of fish. the proposition was unanimously agreed to, and they struck off down the creek, the professor bringing up the rear, puffing and blowing, though highly elated at the variation that this additional act in the programme promised, as well as at the prospect of a successful raid upon the finny tribe. the "dofuny" contraption that mose dignified with the name of fish trap consisted merely of a large sack held open by a hoop, around which the mouth of the sack was fastened, and a couple of ropes, one end of which was fastened to each side of the hoop, while the other ends were fastened to trees on the opposite sides of the stream, in such a way as to allow the hoop to remain about halfway submerged. on the bank of the creek was a lantern, in which was about half a tallow candle. producing some matches, mose lit the candle and proceeded to explain to the professor the modus operandi of catching fish with his new-fangled trap. "you just take the lamp, and wade into the trap, and hold the lamp right in front of the mouth so that the fish can see how to run in, and we boys'll go away down the creek and pull off our clothes and wade into the creek and drive the fish up and into the trap." the professor, as unsuspicious of any trick as a sucking baby, shucked himself, and then taking up the lantern, waded into the trap that the boys set for him instead of for fish, and in the construction of which they had not only exhausted their financial resources in the purchase of the material out of which it was constructed, but also their ingenuity in the getting up and fabrication of the same. "ugh!" grunted the professor, as he reached the trap and placed the lantern in the position indicated, "this water is cold as ice. i want you boys to make haste." "yes, sir," responded the boys. "you'll hear us hollerin' as we come," said mose, and off they started down the creek in a trot. "all right," said the professor. as soon as they got out of sight their gait slackened to a walk, which they kept till they reached a point some four hundred yards distant from the trap, when, seating themselves on a log, they began the most uproarious din of yelling and howling that had ever awakened the slumbering echoes of those old woods since the aborigines had vacated the premises. after about an hour spent in this way the boys got up and advanced slowly up the bank of the stream about a hundred yards, when they seated themselves on another log, where they continued to whoop and yell like so many wild indians. after another hour thus spent they made another advance which brought the professor and the fish trap within their range of vision, though, owing to the darkness, they were not visible to him. "hurry up, boys!" he shouted. "i'm nearly froze, and the candle's nearly out." that was what they were waiting for--the candle to burn out--so that their failure to catch fish could be laid to the absence of the light. "yes, sir!" they shouted back; "we're hurrying as fast as we can!" and renewing their yells, they advanced slowly--very slowly--up the stream. "hurry up! hurry up!" again shouted the professor. "the candle will be out in two minutes." "ay, ay, sir!" shouted mose back; "but you must stop hollerin', or you'll skeer the fish." sure enough, in about two minutes the candle gave a last convulsive flicker, and in the twinkling of an eye thick darkness reigned as absolutely over the professor and the fish trap as elsewhere. "boys," said mose, in a tone of voice loud enough for the professor to hear him, "there ain't no use wadin' in this water any longer; let's go back an' git our cloze." seating themselves on a log, they sat perfectly silent for a while--long enough, as they thought, for it to have taken them to go back to where they commenced their drive, dress themselves, and reach that point on their return--when they got up and resumed their progress upstream. on reaching the trap, they found the professor on shore, and though he had completed his toilet, his teeth were chattering together worse than a pair of castanets rattling off a quickstep march. "we'll have to try it over ag'in some other time," said mose, "and fetch more candles with us. i thought we had plenty this time, but we didn't. i guess i'll bring enough next time." "why didn't you fellows hurry up?" said the professor. "what made you come so slow?" the chattering of his teeth as he spoke causing him to cut the words into more than the legitimate number of syllables to which they were entitled. "couldn't come no faster," said mose. "the water was so thunderin' cold the fish wouldn't drive fast." satisfied with this explanation, the professor fell into ranks as the boys filed off in the direction of home. the exercise of walking soon brought a reaction in his system, the first effect of which was to put a stop to the music of the castanets, and on reaching home he pronounced himself all right again. sometime during the ensuing week mose howard informed the professor that they were going to try the fish trap again the following saturday night, and asked him if he didn't want to go along. the professor gave an involuntary shudder as the recollection of that protracted soaking in ice water of the previous saturday night flashed across his mind. discretion prompted him to give a negative response. curiosity, however, got the better of discretion, and he accepted the invitation. "i'll be on hand," said he. "there's no fun standing in that cold water, especially when you get no fish; but if you can stand it i guess i can." at the appointed time the boys came by, when, the professor joining them, they proceeded to the fish trap. on arriving there, mose produced a couple of pieces of candle, one of which he proceeded to light and put in the lantern. it was nearly twice as long as the one they had burned out on the previous occasion. the other piece he placed in the lantern, so that it could be easily got at if it should be needed. this latter piece mose had had manufactured himself especially for the occasion, and had taken some little pains in its construction. after soaking the wick in water until it was perfectly saturated, he had taken a skillet and melted some tallow therein; then placing the wick in a mould, he filled the latter with the melted tallow, and the thing was accomplished. this particular candle he had carefully marked, so as to be able to distinguish it from any other candle. before completing their arrangements at the fish trap, preparatory to beginning the drive, the professor proposed that one of the boys should take his place at the trap while he accompanied the others and assisted in driving the fish. "kin you swim?" asked mose howard. "no," answered the professor. "well, you'd run the resk ov gittin' drownded, then," said mose. "you go on, then," said the professor, "and i'll mind the trap." so off the boys started, and going down the stream about a mile, seated themselves upon a log, and began yelling and whooping, as on the previous occasion. hour after hour passed, each hour seeming to the benumbed professor an age. the yelling approached slowly but surely. the boys had now arrived at a point where every motion of the professor was distinctly visible. the piece of candle mose had lighted and put in the lantern was nearly burned out. taking up the other piece, the professor proceeded to light it. placing it in the lantern, it gave a splutter and went out. dark! dark was no name for it. no moon, no stars, no matches. but that bogus candle would have been a match for a whole box of matches. "what in thunder's the matter now?" shouted mose. "the candle's gone out," shouted the professor back. "have you got any matches?" he inquired. "nary match," said mose. "what's to be done?" inquired the professor. "nuthin'," said mose. "the thing's played out. put on your cloze, while we go and git ourn, and then we'll git for home." seating themselves on a log, the boys remained quiet for a while, then rising to their feet, they came up to where the professor was waltzing around trying to get up a circulation. "another waterhaul," said mose. "looks a good deal like it," said the professor. "don't know why the mischief some of us didn't think tu bring some matches," said mose. "i don't know, either," responded the professor, in a deprecating tone of voice, as though he entertained the idea that somehow or other he had been mainly instrumental in producing the bad luck. "better luck next time," said mose philosophically, as he struck out for home, followed by the others. they had proceeded about two-thirds of the way home, groping their way as best they could through the thick darkness, when a shrill, prolonged scream directly ahead of them, and apparently at no great distance, broke upon their startled auriculars. "painter!" ejaculated mose, in a low tone of voice, though sufficiently loud to be distinctly audible to the professor, at the same time springing to one side, and the next moment he was out of the professor's hearing. the fact was he had only taken a couple of steps and then squatted in the grass as completely concealed from his companions by the intense darkness as though he had been on the opposite side of the globe. "painter!" repeated the other boys, following mose's example, of springing to one side and squatting in the grass. left alone, the professor, with hair on end, paused a moment to collect his scattered thoughts; but only for a moment. another scream long drawn out, and apparently but a few yards distant, set his dumpling-shaped body in motion, and the next moment he was streaking it across the country as fast as his duck legs could carry him. tumbling over a log lying on the edge of a bank some twenty feet high and nearly perpendicular, down which he rolled, he landed in a mud hole at the bottom. gathering himself up he began looking for his hat, which had parted company with him on the way down the bank, when, another scream breaking upon his ear, he struck out once more on his race for life, hatless and covered with mud from his head to his heels. coming to a brier patch, he was on the point of diverging from his course in order to try and go around it, when another scream precipitated the terror-stricken professor into the patch like a catapult. emerging from the brier patch with his coat tails torn into ribbons, the mud-begrimed professor held on the even tenor of his way without any diminution of speed for a hundred yards or so, when his pace began to slacken a little. another scream, however, put him to his mettle again, but as that was the last, and as he was about exhausted, he soon settled down to a walk, and presently stumbling over a log, he picked himself up and seated himself thereon. after resting a while, plunged in the meantime in a deep cogitation, he finally concluded to try and seek a shelter for the remainder of the night. so, starting forward, he wandered about first in one direction and then in another, and it was not until daylight began to streak the eastern horizon that he stumbled on a clearing in the woods, in the midst of which was a log cabin. cautiously approaching the cabin, he had reached the foot of a sapling some fifty steps from the door when a big dog came dashing around the corner of the house, barking in a most furious manner. no sooner did the professor catch sight of the dog bouncing along in the direction of him and the sapling than he was seized with such a sudden panic as to cause him to grasp the sapling in his arms and start up it, though, owing to want of practice, with hardly the agility of a squirrel. after a tremendous effort he succeeded in reaching a fork some ten feet from the ground, where he seated himself, and awaited the issue of events. he didn't have long to wait. the furious barking of the dog soon roused the inmates of the cabin. scarcely a minute had elapsed after the professor had succeeded, by the most superhuman exertions, in seating himself comfortably in the fork of the sapling, out of the reach of the dog, when the door of the cabin opened and a huge six-footer of a backwoodsman, somewhat airily attired, with a rifle of corresponding size with himself in his hand, emerged therefrom. "what you got thar, bull?" said the man, as he approached the sapling, at the root of which the dog was barking in a most vociferous manner. "what is it, old feller?" he continued. "b'ar, painter, ur catamount?" bull's response was an abortive attempt to climb the tree, accompanied by a most furious outburst of barking. "be quiet, old feller," said the man; "we'll soon see what it is," at the same time raising his rifle to his shoulder. "hold on there," shouted the professor, who was beginning to realize the perilous position in which he was placed, and the imminent danger he was in of being shot for a bear or catamount. "i am no varmint. i'm nicodemus squab, professor of orthography in the jimtown district school." "hallo," said the backwoodsman, as he lowered his rifle, "is that so? well, that gits me. what in thunder ur you doin' up thar?" "wait till i get down, and i'll tell you." and crawling out of the crotch in which he had been seated, the professor slid down the sapling, when he soon succeeded in explaining matters to the satisfaction of that thinly clad backwoodsman and his savage bulldog. it was now broad daylight, and when he reached jimtown the sun was some distance above the horizon, climbing upward toward the zenith. of course every man, woman, and child in the place beheld, with wonder-depicted countenances, the advent of the mud-begrimed, hatless professor, and a thousand conjectures were indulged in as to the cause of his singular appearance. the professor was disposed to be reticent on the subject, answering interrogatories in relation to the matter evasively; but the joke was too good to be kept, and in less than twenty-four hours his approach toward any crowd was greeted by a broad grin overspreading the countenances of a majority of the members thereof, and his departure signalized by a long guffaw. this conduct on the part of the citizens annoyed the professor considerably at first; then it grew monotonous, and he became disgusted. finally he burst into a flame of indignation, and after taking his revenge out of the hides of the pupils, especially mose howard and his confederates, the irate professor shook the dust of jimtown off his feet, and betook himself to parts unknown. photographs taken in dangerous places. "race war in alabama. take cinematograph pictures of fighting and country." "want pictures of dyaks of borneo as soon as possible." "series wanted of whale-hunting in arctic regions." the average man, receiving one of these messages with his breakfast, would not regard the commission exactly in the light of a pleasure trip. to the cinematograph man, however, such orders are all in a day's work. he simply packs up his machine, makes his arrangements in the shortest possible time, and goes right ahead with the business. it is thrilling and wonderful work at times; and it requires a little patience, too. "one of our photographers," said the manager of a company recently, "once sat beside a geyser in iceland for three weeks, waiting for an eruption to take place, in order that he might obtain some pictures of this wonderful phenomenon. the geyser seemed in no hurry to oblige him, so he left the district for a couple of days. when he returned he found that the eruption had taken place and the geyser had again become inactive. "another of our photographers, who went out to borneo to take pictures of the home life of the natives, narrowly escaped losing his head as well as his machine. the natives thought the latter was some new and powerful weapon, and it was only by the timely intervention of the interpreter, who explained matters, that they adopted a more friendly attitude. "by the way, this particular photographer raised a good laugh when he came home. we wanted some pictures taken while traveling down the water chute at an exhibition. it was necessary for the operator and the machine to be strapped to the boat, in order that he might be quite free to turn the handle and take the photographs as he shot down the chute. i asked the photographer from borneo to do the job. 'i would rather be excused,' he said; 'i've got a weak heart.' here was a man, who spent weeks among one of the most savage tribes in the world, who was afraid to go down a water chute. nerves are peculiar things. "i think, however, the worst experience which has befallen one of our photographers was that of the man we sent to take the pictures of a whale-hunting expedition. a fine school--i believe that is the correct term--of whales was sighted one day. the boats went in pursuit, and our photographer with his machine entered one of them. the crew of this boat managed to harpoon a fine big whale, who went through the sea at a terrific pace, dragging the boat behind him. our photographer was just congratulating himself on getting some of the most realistic pictures ever obtained, when suddenly the whale doubled in its tracks, and, to make a long story short, smashed the boat. luckily, another boat came up at the critical moment and rescued the crew and the photographer. but the latter is always bemoaning the fact that one of the finest sets of cinematograph pictures ever taken lies at the bottom of the arctic ocean." some of the most interesting pictures shown, however, are scenes taken en route while traveling by rail in various parts of the world. a special engine is chartered, and the operator, with his machine, takes his place on the front platform of the engine, or on a low truck which the engine pushes in front of it. thus mile after mile of scenery is photographed as the engine rushes along. it is a rather ticklish job, particularly in wild regions where all sorts of animals stray on to the line, and there is a risk of collision and general smash. doubtless many readers are acquainted with the entertaining and novel manner in which these pictures are afterward shown. one sits in a stationary model of a railway carriage, the picture being thrown on a screen at the end. a motor underneath the carriage gives a realistic impression of the noise made by a train when traveling, and thus one seems to be rushing through the country which is being depicted on the screen. it is a novel notion, which is deserving of all the success and popularity it has attained. costly fishes. the most beautiful and withal costly fishes in the world come from china, and of these the most expensive and rarest is the brush-tail goldfish. specimens of these have sold for as high as $ each, and in europe the prices range from $ to $ . the brush-tail goldfish is so small that a half-crown piece will cover it, and probably there is no living thing of its size and weight that is worth so much money. latest issues motor stories the latest and best five-cent weekly. we won't say how interesting it is. see for yourself. =high art colored covers. thirty-two big pages. price, cents.= --motor matt's daring rescue; or, the strange case of helen brady. --motor matt's peril; or, castaway in the bahamas. --motor matt's queer find; or, the secret of the iron chest. --motor matt's promise; or, the wreck of the _hawk_. --motor matt's submarine; or, the strange cruise of the _grampus_. --motor matt's quest; or, three chums in strange waters. --motor matt's close call; or, the snare of don carlos. --motor matt in brazil; or, under the amazon. --motor matt's defiance; or, around the horn. --motor matt makes good; or, another victory for the motor boys. --motor matt's launch; or, a friend in need. --motor matt's enemies; or, a struggle for the right. --motor matt's prize; or, the pluck that wins. --motor matt on the wing; or, flying for fame and fortune. tip top weekly the most popular publication for boys. the adventures of frank and dick merriwell can be had only in this weekly. =high art colored covers. thirty-two pages. price, cents.= --dick merriwell at the "meet"; or, honors worth winning. --dick merriwell's protest; or, the man who would not play clean. --dick merriwell in the marathon; or, the sensation of the great run. --dick merriwell's colors; or, all for the blue. --dick merriwell, driver; or, the race for the daremore cup. --dick merriwell on the deep; or, the cruise of the _yale_. --dick merriwell in the north woods; or, the timber thieves of the floodwood. --dick merriwell's dandies; or, a surprise for the cowboy nine. --dick merriwell's "skyscooter"; or, professor pagan and the "princess." --dick merriwell in the elk mountains; or, the search for "dead injun" mine. --dick merriwell in utah; or, the road to "promised land." --dick merriwell's bluff; or, the boy who ran away. --dick merriwell in the saddle; or, the bunch from the bar-z. --dick merriwell's ranch friends; or, sport on the range. nick carter weekly the best detective stories on earth. nick carter's exploits are read the world over. =high art colored covers. thirty-two big pages. price, cents.= --three times stolen; or, nick carter's strange clue. --the great diamond syndicate; or, nick carter's cleverest foes. --the house of the yellow door; or, nick carter in the old french quarter. --the triangle clue; or, nick carter's greenwich village case. --the hollingsworth puzzle; or, nick carter three times baffled. --the affair of the missing bonds; or, nick carter in the harness. --the green box clue; or, nick carter's good friend. --the taxicab mystery; or, nick carter closes a deal. --the mystery of a hotel room; or, nick carter's best work. --the tragedy of the well; or, nick carter under suspicion. --the black hand; or, chick carter's well-laid plot. --the black hand nemesis; or, chick carter and the mysterious woman. --a masterly trick; or, chick and the beautiful italian. --a dangerous man; or, nick carter and the famous castor case. _for sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to any address on receipt of price, cents per copy, in money or postage stamps, by_ street & smith, publishers, - seventh avenue, new york =if you want any back numbers= of our weeklies and cannot procure them from your newsdealer, they can be obtained from this office direct. fill out the following order blank and send it to us with the price of the weeklies you want and we will send them to you by return mail. =postage stamps taken the same as money.= ________________________ _ _ _street & smith, - seventh avenue, new york city._ _dear sirs: enclosed please find_ ___________________________ _cents for which send me_: tip top weekly, nos. ________________________________ nick carter weekly, " ________________________________ diamond dick weekly, " ________________________________ buffalo bill stories, " ________________________________ brave and bold weekly, " ________________________________ motor stories, " ________________________________ _name_ ________________ _street_ ________________ _city_ ________________ _state_ ________________ a great success!! motor stories every boy who reads one of the splendid adventures of motor matt, which are making their appearance in this weekly, is at once surprised and delighted. surprised at the generous quantity of reading matter that we are giving for five cents; delighted with the fascinating interest of the stories, second only to those published in the tip top weekly. matt has positive mechanical genius, and while his adventures are unusual, they are, however, drawn so true to life that the reader can clearly see how it is possible for the ordinary boy to experience them. _here are the titles now ready and those to be published_: --motor matt; or, the king of the wheel. --motor matt's daring; or, true to his friends. --motor matt's century run; or, the governor's courier. --motor matt's race; or, the last flight of the "comet." --motor matt's mystery; or, foiling a secret plot. --motor matt's red flier; or, on the high gear. --motor matt's clue; or, the phantom auto. --motor matt's triumph; or, three speeds forward. --motor matt's air ship; or, the rival inventors. --motor matt's hard luck; or, the balloon house plot. --motor matt's daring rescue; or, the strange case of helen brady. --motor matt's peril; or, cast away in the bahamas. --motor matt's queer find; or, the secret of the iron chest. --motor matt's promise; or, the wreck of the "hawk." --motor matt's submarine; or, the strange cruise of the "grampus." --motor matt's quest; or, three chums in strange waters. --motor matt's close call; or, the snare of don carlos. --motor matt in brazil; or, under the amazon. --motor matt's defiance; or, around the horn. --motor matt makes good; or, another victory for the motor boys. --motor matt's launch; or, a friend in need. --motor matt's enemies; or, a struggle for the right. --motor matt's prize; or, the pluck that wins. --motor matt on the wing; or, flying for fame and fortune. to be published on august th. --motor matt's reverse; or, caught in a losing game. to be published on august th. --motor matt's "make or break"; or, advancing the spark of friendship. to be published on august d. --motor matt's engagement; or, on the road with a show. to be published on august th. --motor matt's "short circuit"; or, the mahout's vow. price, five cents at all newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, by the publishers upon receipt of the price. street & smith, _publishers_, new york transcriber's notes: added table of contents. italics are represented with _underscores_, bold with =equal signs=. page , corrected "aëroplan" to "aëroplane" in "traquair and his aëroplane." page , corrected "tarquair" to "traquair" in "try-out of the traquair" and "you and mrs. traquair sold." page , corrected "wil" to "will" in "money will go to you." page , corrected "se" to "see" in "see the time-piece." page , converted ligature in "manoeuvre" to "oe" for text edition; ligature retained in html version. page , corrected "pebbles" to "prebbles" in "good stuff in young pebbles." page , corrected "thty" to "they" in "which they kept till." courtesy of the digital library@villanova university (http://digital.library.villanova.edu/)) the brighton boys series by lieutenant james r. driscoll the brighton boys with the flying corps the brighton boys in the trenches the brighton boys with the battle fleet the brighton boys in the radio service the brighton boys with the submarine fleet the brighton boys with the engineers at cantigny the brighton boys at chateau-thierry the brighton boys at st. mihiel the brighton boys in the argonne the brighton boys in transatlantic flight the brighton boys in the submarine treasure ship [illustration: she settled into a swift and disastrous nose dive.] the brighton boys in transatlantic flight by lieutenant james r. driscoll illustrated the john c. winston company philadelphia copyright, , by the john c. winston co. contents chapter page i. waiting for the hop-off ii. arrival of a stranger iii. treachery afoot iv. the tamperer captured v. startling reports vi. new war clouds vii. summoned to washington viii. "deliver these at paris" ix. off to europe x. pursued by an enemy plane xi. in the teeth of a hurricane xii. desperate haste xiii. the battle in the clouds xiv. destruction of the enemy xv. fuel from a tanker xvi. a matter of hours xvii. the ten-mile glide xviii. a runaway plane xix. the sleep-walker xx. kidnaped xxi. the arrival in paris xxii. world peace assured illustrations she settled into a swift, disastrous nose dive _frontispiece_ page like a whirlwind he came at his antagonist "ask them their position now," the general snapped out in a wide circle the plane was brought to the surface the brighton boys in transatlantic flight chapter i waiting for the hop-off "br-r-r-r, but this is a chilly section of the map!" the speaker was jack carew--big jack carew, they had called him at brighton. the descriptive prefix had clung to him throughout all the changes and vicissitudes of the great war, and the indications were now that he would continue to be known as big jack carew through the balance of his natural life. and well he deserved the cognomen, for as he stood in the doorway of the little shack-like building in which he and his three comrades had spent their first night in halifax, he showed up well over six feet in height, with a depth of chest and breadth of shoulder which bespoke tremendous strength and almost unlimited physical endurance. indeed, it was a fact well known to scores of men that but for carew's possession of these two qualities, coupled with his timely arrival at a desolate and isolated spot in northern france one bitterly cold night in january, , donald harlan would not have been alive to be in newfoundland now as a member of the american crew which carew captained, and which was even now making ready for participation in the first transatlantic aeroplane contest. the story was a somewhat old one now, but harlan himself never tired of giving his big chum full credit for having saved his life. harlan had been in battle with a hun plane, and although he had come off victorious, he had sustained such damage to his own machine that he was compelled to make a speedy landing in which the law of gravity figured more prominently than did his own control over wings, elevators and rudder. the inevitable result was a smash-up, with harlan on the very bottom of the débris. there he had lain for four hours, barely conscious, half frozen, and bleeding from a dozen serious cuts, when big jack carew, out on a lone reconnoitering expedition afoot, had by the merest accident come upon him. it was five miles from that spot to the nearest dressing station, and it was partly enemy territory at that; but carew had carried the injured man the entire distance in no more time than it would have taken the ordinary unburdened man to do it, and the surgeons had said afterward that it was only this quick rescue work that had prevented a loss of blood which would have cost donald harlan his life. no wonder that big jack carew was admired, respected, loved by all who knew him, and especially so by the three other men who made up his crew. as he stood now, after his abrupt appearance and brief remark about the halifax weather, silhouetted in the open doorway by the meager newfoundland dawn, the trio of lads within the one-room building looked up suddenly from their respective tasks with smiling nods of greeting. fred bentner, the wizard wireless operator, who had won his right to that title by his many feats of efficiency with the radio key and earpiece, was for the fiftieth time reinspecting an expensive and highly-prized fleece-lined leather coat which had been presented to him just before the crew had left the states for the bleak newfoundland shore from which the flight was scheduled to start. a few feet away don harlan was down on his hands and knees, cramped into a most uncomfortable position, almost exhausted from blowing an auxiliary draft into the grate of a balky stove, on which andy flures with equal difficulty and no greater success was endeavoring to fry four husky portions of ham and eggs. harlan was the navigator of the american crew, while jolly andy flures was alternate pilot with big jack. the four of them made a most happy and congenial group, and at the same time an aggregation of experienced birdmen to give just cause for anxiety to the contestants of any other nationality. "hey, you!" donald commanded, when he had sufficiently recovered from his arduous efforts to talk. "no charge for admission, you know. come inside and shut the door. permit me to give you my place. you've got more lung power than i have; maybe you can put the spark of life into this stove. if i may be pardoned for the perpetration of an innocent pun, you may thereby blow us all to a substantial refreshment of 'ham-and.'" he arose and, with a most stately bow and wave of the hand, proffered the position of honor and place of official stove-blower to his erstwhile rescuer. "nothing doing," responded the huge carew, with good-natured emphasis. "i'm no blow-hard." nevertheless he immediately dropped his heavy bulk to where donald's most persuasive puffing had failed to stir the fire to even the faintest indications of enthusiasm. "say," queried big jack, when he had taken a long and judicial squint into the dull glow within the grate, "what are you trying to burn in this stove--asbestos? pity you three poor weaklings couldn't even get a breakfast while i'm doing the early bird stuff, out scouting for the real news." with which he settled himself in place for the first gusty blast at the grate. "what is the news? did you get any? don't be selfish about it--let the rest of us hear it," they fired at him, almost in unison. carew merely grunted. his expanding chest burst a button from his coat, and it went bouncing across the floor to a further corner of the room. he was getting ready to go into action, was big jack carew, and he never did anything half-heartedly. "what'd you get?" demanded donald harlan again, impatient to know of the slightest hint or tip or bit of speculative gossip that might throw the least light upon the all-important question of when they might start upon the first aeroplane journey ever attempted across the atlantic. but he had scarcely uttered the query when there was a miniature explosion like the blowout of a x automobile tire under ninety pounds pressure, followed by a very audible grunt and a reflex cloud of cinders and ashes which for the moment entirely enveloped and obscured the tremendous proportions of big jack carew. the first sound thereafter was a muffled gasp from that person; and when finally the ash cloud had sufficiently settled, the first view the other youths had of carew he was pawing viciously at eyes, nose and ears with both hands. "what'd i get?" he repeated, in genuine bad humor for the moment. "i got gas and liquid fire all in one. don't ask me what i got. can't you see! i think somebody touched a match to old vesuvius. here, one of you fellows pump this old stove. i give it too much energy." but as he found that he still retained the vision of both eyes, that he could hear as well as ever, and could even breathe through his nose, although with some difficulty, his natural good nature asserted itself and he joined in the no-wise gentle guffaws of andy flures and the milder laughter of the other two. "holy smoke is right," jack ejaculated; and then, improvising: "ashes to ashes, and dust to dust, if the huns don't get you an old stove must." nevertheless, despite his unpleasant experience, carew's efforts had been successful, and he had, indeed, imparted the spark of life to the fire. it was now crackling and blazing right merrily, to the accompanying sizzle of the frying ham and eggs. and in five more minutes the four young men were seated at table, putting those same ham and eggs beyond hope of redemption. there was nothing whatever the matter with their appetites. "well, you haven't yet told us what you learned while you were out scouting around this morning," fred bentner prompted big jack. "nothing definite, of course," carew replied. "but everybody's here, ready and anxious for the hop-off. the henryson people are awfully confident of the staying powers of their single-engine machine; and the falcon crew is just as strong for that type. but i want to tell you that for both speed and endurance, as well as for safety and emergencies, i believe our dual motor hydro has got them all topped, and that, all other things being equal, we'll beat them to it when the real contest comes." "righto!" echoed andy flures. "and may that not long be delayed," added donald harlan. "were you down to the freight station?" fred asked, seeming naturally to take the rôle of interrogator. "yes, and there is some stuff there for us that came in during the night," carew answered. "but i doubt whether our elevator will get here before tomorrow. however, there isn't any real rush, and i think we did the right thing in deciding to risk that delay in order to have that light copper binding put on. the stress of a sudden storm may prove its value." "sure," donald supplemented. "no room for argument about that. but we don't want to let any other crew get the jump on us at that. there's an awful lot of satisfaction in being the first off, or at least to be among the first." "i don't think any other crew will be able to make a get-away before we are ready," jack assured them. "why, i was talking to a native a while ago on that very subject. he doesn't pretend to know anything about aeronautics. he's been a whaler all his life. but he does set himself up as something of a weather sharp, and after having listened to him for quite a time i'm more than half inclined to believe that he knows what he is talking about. weather prognostications seem to be a natural instinct with whalers, you know, and with this fellow you might call it a sixth sense." "well, what did he say?" don interrupted. "that we wouldn't get away before the end of this week, anyway, and likely not until the middle of next, if then," jack finished. "yes," said andy, "the mud's so deep in front of two of the hangars that there isn't a chance of running the machines out until it has dried off a great deal." "well, the ham and eggs being gone, i'm through," interjected fred. "let's all hustle down to the _dee-po_ and see what santa claus left us during the night. i'm anxious to get our craft together, and particularly to make some necessary final tests with the radio apparatus." "right!" agreed jack, surveying the table rather ruefully and becoming convinced that fred was right about there being no more ham and eggs. "and don't make any mistakes about that wireless, either, fred," he continued, as they all shoved back their chairs. "i've got all sorts of confidence in our plane, but nevertheless it would be nice to realize that we could let the world at large know our approximate whereabouts in case we should come down in old father neptune's lap, somewhere in about the dead center of the atlantic." "it'll be as right as every other part of our vehicle when we start," the wireless expert assured them; and with that they set off for the freight station. a short distance down the street they encountered henryson, the norwegian pilot of a giant single-motor machine of great horsepower, and known to be capable of tremendous speed. never a popular fellow, henryson's cocksureness in the present contest made him more than ever disliked by his competitors in the approaching flight. the others would have passed him with merely a nod of greeting, but henryson showed a disposition toward conversation, and they had no alternative within the bounds of courtesy but to stop. "willing to put down a little money to make this flight interesting?" he asked, addressing himself particularly to big jack carew. "nope, never bet," carew replied good-naturedly. "but we'll make it interesting, all right, once we get started. you may be assured of that." "sort of proud, eh?" henryson suggested, evidently intent upon being as nasty as possible. "no, not proud, but awfully confident," jack responded quietly, but with a note of distinct warning in his tone. henryson's answer was almost a sneer. "there are several ways of making things interesting," and he strode on past. "i'll wager he's one of the meanest men in canada," said fred bentner, turning to look after henryson. "wonder what he meant by that last remark," added don. "sounded like a veiled threat to me." "huh," said big jack. "i guess there's no cause for alarm. barking dogs seldom bite, you know." they continued on to the freight station and there found that practically their entire equipment had arrived, and that they now had before them a day to be devoted almost entirely to getting their plane together, to be followed by all sorts of strength and endurance tests. to the former task they applied themselves just as soon as the parts could be transferred from the station to their hangar, and throughout the ensuing hours there was the most enthusiastic energy, not only among our friends from brighton, but as well in the immediate vicinity of every other hangar. crowds witnessed the eager preparations that were going forward for the first attempt at crossing the atlantic through the air; while by automobile truck and dray, tons upon tons of fuel and oil were being brought up to the point where the machines soon would take on the fuel, lubricants, food, etc., necessary to the flight. by nightfall the giant two-motor combination hydro-aeroplane was practically completed, and big jack announced that they would begin putting aboard oil and petrol that night, preparatory to complete tryouts the following morning. these things done, and the crew would be ready for its long fly across the ocean just as soon as sufficient tonnage of fuel and oil were aboard. "well, it's coming close to the finals, anyway," announced carew as they knocked off work and went to their shack for supper. "by this time tomorrow night, barring accidents or such weather as would prevent tests, we will be ready for the start. how about the wireless, fred?" "all set up, ready for the most exacting experiments tomorrow," the radio expert replied. just as he was speaking, henryson passed by. he looked at the group, but did not say a word. "i wish that fellow would stay out of my sight," said donald harlan impatiently. "i don't like his face." big jack laughed deprecatingly, but nevertheless he, too, turned to look after the norwegian, whose words and manner had caused a sort of uneasiness with all of the lads. "all i've got to say," said andy flures, "is that he had better mind his own business or we'll make it hot, as well as interesting, for him and his crew." chapter ii arrival of a stranger not always, and in fact seldom, are things so important and unusual as a transatlantic aerial flight, to be carried out strictly according to prearranged plans and schedule. long before the final details of this great expedition had been decided upon, careful students of flying had foreseen that preliminary to the establishment of that method of transport as one of the dependable arts of commerce, the study of the air, the weather, and atmospheric conditions generally, would have to advance farther than it ever has thus far, and that upon that knowledge aeroplanes and dirigibles in passenger and freight service would be operated upon schedules almost as regular as those of our railroads and steamship lines today; more like the latter, however, in that seasonal conditions would largely govern arrivals and departures. in other words, that the study of atmospheric conditions would make it possible to know, from the average that had obtained over, say, a period of five or ten years, about what sort of weather might be expected to prevail at every important flight point, or over every regular flying route, throughout every part of the year. such a study, so far as it had been possible to advance it, had been made prior to the present proposed flight, and the schedule was arranged for what was believed would be the most propitious time in the year, both for the start and for the conditions expected to be encountered once the planes had left sight of america and had started upon the long, perilous and uncharted course across the atlantic ocean. but alas, as the poet said, for "the best-laid plans of mice and men." contrary to every plan and calculation, in direct opposition to every hope and prediction, it had rained with only occasional and brief interruptions for the greater part of three days and three nights, and now, on this, the morning of the fifth day since the crews had arrived at halifax, the first promise of better weather was held forth in a stiff breeze that was blowing from the northwest. and as well may be imagined, this first sign of relief had not come too soon. as a matter of fact, a blue funk had prevailed over the entire camp ever since the storm had set in. it hadn't been so bad at first, when there were a hundred and one things that each crew could find to do in the way of big and little details looking to increased speed, efficiency and safety throughout the trip. but when each man of each crew finally had to admit his imagination exhausted in finding such work with which to pass the time, then came the long, slow, nerve-racking, patience-killing, disposition-spoiling wait, in which they could only attempt to console one another with predictions of an early clearing, in which they only half believed themselves. checkers, chess, and improvised shuffleboard and hand-ball had been resorted to, even to the extent of a checker tournament in which every crew had its entry and dave bemis, of the falcon outfit, had carried off the camp honors and the admitted championship. but, faced with the responsibilities of succeeding in a non-stop ocean flight of approximately two thousand miles, these were small and ineffective diversions, and in the indoor games many a man had made his moves mechanically and abstractedly, giving proof to the old saying that he was, mentally at least, "up in the air." now, under the most favorable conditions, it was bound to be two or three days longer before the flight could start, but there was at least the encouragement that it was a definite prospect. "say, fellows," said andy flures, entering their hangar after the fifth weather survey he had made in the last hour, "i'll tell you what let's do. there isn't another tap of work of any sort that i know of that can be put on our plane, and we've still got a lot of time on our hands. what do you say if we try to get some of the others together for some field sports--running, jumping, pole vault and track--regular old-fashioned all-round contest like we used to have at brighton?" "andy, you're a wonder," ejaculated fred bentner, immediately enthusiastic. "why, it's just what we need to limber up our muscles and put new ginger into us. we've been sitting around moping too long already." "yes," agreed big jack, "if by some chance or accident it should develop that we should start upon the flight today we're in no mental condition for it. our minds are groggy. we've sort of gone sour. we want to limber up our joints, as fred says, and at the same time get our grouches out of our systems. nothing like a real athletic contest for that." "i'm with you heart and soul," echoed donald harlan. "let's sound the others out right away." and then and there they appointed each other committees of one to visit the other crews to get the thing started. half an hour later a score of young men, ruddy of complexion, clear of eye, supple of action, men who did not know the meaning of physical fear, were gathered together in the spirit of schoolboys on the big field that fronted the giant hangars in which were stored the powerful machines that soon were to vie with each other, even as now their pilots and mechanics were about to do, in a historical contest of the air. by unanimous agreement dr. charles p. vorhees, now a sedate and high-salaried official in uncle sam's weather bureau, but a few years ago a well-known athletic star at yale, was made referee of the contests. his own reputation in athletics had been such as to preclude even a suspicion of partisanship or favoritism in his decisions, and further than that he was personally popular with every air-man there. "let's make at least part of this contest different from the average," suggested dr. vorhees, as the men gathered about to hear his suggestions. "men in your line of work expect and even seek the unusual, rather than the ordinary. you get your thrills out of doing new things. very well, then, instead of trying to lay out a track over the driest parts of the field, let's select a course over the soggiest sections, and then have a race with some real difficulties in it." "sure; just the thing," came half a dozen voices in unison. and then the brilliant mind of archie brown, of the falcon crew, added another novel thought. "why not do it on snowshoes?" he offered. "the going is heavy enough, and that ought to help make it unusual." "gee! snowshoeing in the mud! corking idea!" the chorus of approval left no doubt that in this aggregation no task was regarded as really hard, no difficulty as insurmountable. "but where would we get the snowshoes?" asked dr. vorhees, shaking with laughter as he surveyed the heavily mudded field, and already seeing in prospect the ludicrous probabilities of such a contest as brown had suggested. "leave it to me," the latter replied. "it was having seen twenty or thirty pairs only last night that brought the thing to my mind." he trotted off across the field, to where a bleak building stood out uninvitingly against the horizon. it was the general storehouse of the coast guard station at that point, and was in charge of the ex-whaling captain with whom big jack carew had discussed newfoundland weather conditions on his first morning there. and the former whaler, it proved, was as good a sport as he was skipper. "would he lend archie brown the twenty pairs of snowshoes which that youth had seen stowed away there one day while he was holding a lengthy conversation with the old salt?" of course, the question wasn't put or repeated in just that language, but that was its full purport. would he? well, the genial sailor of the northern seas rubbed his stubbled chin for a moment, listened while archie outlined in detail the purpose for which the shoes were desired, wrinkled his brow, shifted his "chaw" from the right cheek to the left, squinted out to where the foregathered flyers awaited his decision--and then he offered a sort of compromise. he would lend the shoes, providing he was permitted to lay out the course. no particular reason, of course. oh, no! just wanted to sort of have a hand in the thing, so to speak. well, he did. he had a hand in it, and, as it developed later, the others were in with both feet. but that's getting ahead too rapidly. with the captain following more slowly, archie raced across the field to inform the others of the condition under which the snowshoes had been loaned. in a jiffy they agreed that certainly they would grant an ancient mariner's small whim like that. why not? anyway, it was necessary, in order to get the shoes. and so, when the erstwhile whaler joined the group, he immediately was informed by dr. vorhees that they waited upon him, as an honored and informed native, to indicate a foot-race course over which some eager young men, equipped with snowshoes, might, perhaps, encounter some difficulties to add zest to the friendly encounter. "seein's ye cain't hev the shoes 'nless ye meet thet condition, i'm not going to be perticerly het up about th' honor yer conferin'," answered the weather-beaten old salt callously. "but i thenk ye, nevertheless." he stepped to the front of the group, so that they formed a semicircle about him. "see thet old stump of a tree stickin' up out thar?" he asked, indicating with outstretched right arm the distant skeleton of what once had been a towering cedar. "yes," answered half a dozen, following the direction in which he pointed, almost due east. "wall, then," the old captain continued, "we'll consider the course a straight line to thet 'ere stump, and then, roundin' that, straight off to thet other healthier tree up thar," indicating a point fully three hundred yards north of the dead cedar, "and then straight back here." the twenty young men began lacing on the snowshoes which archie and the captain had brought with them. "ye can make any other conditions ye want," the latter added, "but if i'm not mistaken thet'll take ye some time--an' prove yer mettle." it was not until later that they realized why he chuckled so after making this final remark. they went ahead with their preparations. some of the youths had had considerable experience in snowshoeing; others had never had a pair upon their feet. it is safe to say, however, that none of them ever set out upon such a trip with them before. as they stood in line ready for the start, the old whaling captain uttered his final admonition. "around thet old stump, remember, and from there up to thet big tree, then home. an' remember thet old rule of 'rithmetic--the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. straight from thet stump to the tree." he looked at dr. vorhees, gave a sly wink which none but that individual saw, and a moment later the lumbering men were off. for the first five minutes the going was not hard, although for the inexperienced there were unsuspected difficulties and time after time one or another of them, placing the desire for speed above caution, got suddenly stuck, and then of natural momentum went headlong into the mud, at the same time experiencing sudden and disconcerting stretching and straining of the muscles and tendons of their legs. in the next ten minutes it became a straggling line, with the more expert in the lead, the novices laboring along with many a grunt of surprise and disgust, but all staying gamely in the contest, in spite of all the unexpected handicaps it developed. but as the three leaders in the race reached and rounded the old stump they became suddenly and painfully aware of the trick which the shrewd old whaler had played upon them. these leaders were big jack carew, the unpopular henryson, and a navigator named george boardman. behind them the long and irregularly progressing line was a ludicrous manifestation of human determination and endeavor, under the most unexpected forms of surprises and handicaps; for the course, even over its first leg, was not merely a stretch of muddy field, but an uninterrupted succession of treacherous hidden bogs and marshes, whose surfaces were apparently but patches of juicy mud. around the stump, however, the character of the course became even worse, and it wasn't long before those in the lead realized that they were in reality treading the bed, or rather channel, of a recently-formed miniature creek. "no fool, that fellow," growled boardman, puffing laboriously to extricate one foot that seemed to be drawn down into the ground with the tenacious pull and grip of a suction pump. "he's got the laugh on us all right." "who-o-r-rp!" henryson, a little in the lead, turning for an instant to make a reply, had miscalculated grievously, and now, a victim of his own folly in having even for a second taken his eyes from his course, was lying face downward in a morass of slimy mud, his arms working like the paddle wheels of a ferryboat. there was a shout of derisive laughter from behind, as there had been every time any one had, as donald expressed it, "bitten the dust." but henryson, naturally a poor sport and sour-natured, was doubly angered and chagrined not alone by the stagnant depths into which his unhappy disaster had precipitated him, but also by the fact that he had lost the lead and at least three others were now ahead of him. it was left to happy andy flures to reap the full measure of the norwegian's wrath. three times andy himself had been down in the mud, but each time he had come up smiling and more determined than ever to finish the race. "why the tail-dip?" he asked of henryson as he came up; and there was another gale of laughter. henryson's color rose and showed through pink, even under his facial covering of mire. he muttered something under his breath, and then, instead of being cooled by that brief outlet to his anger, completely lost control of himself. he suddenly bent forward, as though to tighten his shoe, grasped a handful of mud, and before andy could realize his intention or even shield himself from it, henryson hurled it, striking flures squarely in the face. there was a gasp from the men behind, and a shout of anger from the old whaling captain. involuntarily everyone came to a halt. like most good-natured people, andy flures was not a man to be insulted in that way. with dangerous calm and precision he removed the plastered mud from his eyes, and then, never wavering, but without undue haste, stalked over to where henryson stood. and before that individual was aware of what was happening to him, andy grabbed him in an iron grip, turned him upside down as though henryson weighed no more than a doll, and then, with a tremendous lunge, planted him head-first into the slime, up to his shoulders. it seemed a full minute he stood thus, his feet threshing the air, before he sufficiently unbalanced to fall of his own weight. when henryson had finally regained his feet and could see and hear, the old whaling captain was standing in front of him. the others, including andy, at his signal, were continuing over the designated course, but all could hear him as he bawled out at the norwegian: "young man, take off them shoes." without a word henryson began to do as he was bidden. "now lissen here," the old whaler continued, as henryson handed him the snowshoes that had been the cause of his misfortune and such a nasty display of humor. "when i laid out this course it was my idea to see a little fun. i knew it would be soggy goin', but i thought i was dealin' with sportsmen, and i was--all except you. you're my idea of a no-account, that's what you are." before this tirade from a man nearly thrice his age henryson stood abashed. "and one thing more," the old seaman continued. "there was once a man named shakespeare, that it might surprise you to know i ever heard of. well, around here i'm what he called 'clothed with a little brief authority.' i'm the constabule. i'm not het up about it, but i want to tell ye this: you get the slightest bit gay around this harbor and i'll run ye into the calaboose so quick ye won't know what happened to ye. and ye won't be out in time to make eny flight to europe, either; though if ye ever git there i hope ye stay." henryson, a lone and ostracized man, stalked across the field just as big jack carew, laughing and puffing, came in a winner, twenty yards ahead of the next nearest man. thereafter there were broad-jumps, high-jumps, pole-vault contests and many other tryouts in athletic skill, but it remained for fred bentner to show them something in the way of novelty in almost monkey-like agility. there stood at the upper end of the big field two strong, permanent upright posts, with a horizontal bar fastened to them about eight feet above the ground. at one time it had been used for the purposes of winding cable. jumping and catching this lateral bar, fred began twirling about it with such speed that his body looked most like the rapidly-revolving blade of a propeller. then, when he was going so rapidly that it did not seem that he possibly could know his exact and instantaneous position, he suddenly let go, and, to the gasps of the men who were looking on, shot off through the air at a horizontal tangent. swift as an arrow his body hurtled through space. thirty feet away he landed, feet up, as though he had taken but an ordinary broad-jump. "bravo!" came surprised and wondering shouts. "measure it," said fred, quietly, joining the others. they did. "thirty-three feet," announced dr. vorhees, "and i'd call it some stunt." it was nearing sunset when the final contests of this novel field day were brought to a conclusion, but every man who had participated in it, with the exception of henryson, felt a hundredfold better for the physical exertions they had been through. it proved to be a mental as well as a physical tonic. but final events, as proved later, turned out to be most significant. it was long after dark when the four young men, returning to their hut from that of another crew, were brought to a sudden halt a hundred feet away from their own hangar. "what's that?" big jack had whispered, at the same time attracting the attention of the other three to a form barely discernible in the night, as it skulked along in the dense shadow of the big building. "it's a man, and apparently bent on no good," said andy flures, at the same time starting for the hangar on a run, followed closely by the others. but they were too late. the intruder, whoever he was and whatever his errand, had discovered them at the same time they had seen him and had made his escape in the night. they searched for fifteen minutes, but in vain. they went inside, and found everything apparently exactly as they had left it. "well, that's a queer one," said big jack, as they sat around discussing it before retiring. "the fellow might have meant no harm at all, but we're at least on our guard against any trickery." "yes," agreed don, "and for one i'm in favor of going over every inch of our plane tomorrow." and with that excellent precaution agreed upon, they went to bed. chapter iii treachery afoot it was perhaps four hours later, or a little after midnight, when all four of the young men were suddenly and simultaneously aroused from their peaceful slumbers by the loud clanging of a gong. no need to ask what it was, even when coming out of a deep sleep. it was a fire bell, and pealing out in quick, insistent warning calls! "great guns!" shouted fred bentner, the first out of his bunk and to a window. "there's a fire all right, and it's over at the hangars." the wild scrimmage which followed was probably repeated in every one of the half dozen near-by huts in which the respective crews were quartered. big jack carew went crashing out the door, still drawing his shirt over his head and wearing only one shoe. don, in his own excitement, had kicked the other under a cot, and carew had refused to take time to look for it. he was followed by andy flures, who certainly was not attired for a parlor reception; and the other two were only a few steps behind. "i believe it's our own hangar," breathed big jack, his tones reflecting an agony of suspicion and suspense. at that instant bentner, who hadn't stopped for any shoes at all, stubbed his toe on a protruding rock. "holy cats!" he ejaculated, grabbing the injured foot and hopping along in terrible pain. "oh, my golly, my toe!" "stick it in your pocket and come along," advised andy, as he sped by. men were turning out of every hut in all sorts of garb, none of them fully clothed, some of them still in pajamas and whatever they could find first in the way of footwear. meanwhile the great gong continued its clamor, there was the more strident banging of engine bells, and the townspeople came streaming forth, too, to add to the excitement. and during this brief time little tongues of flame were leaping upward, apparently from the rear of the hangar in which was stored the great dual-motor plane in which our four friends hoped to be the first across the atlantic. the firemen were just getting a stream on the blaze when the youths arrived. "well, thank our lucky stars for that," exclaimed don harlan as he realized that, devilish as the evident plot had been, it had not succeeded to the point of setting fire to their hangar. the blaze was in a large box of excelsior, which had been placed close to the rear boarding of the hangar. there was no doubt but that someone had set about deliberately to destroy that structure and the machine within. that the plan had not succeeded, it turned out later, was due to the fact that a private watchman, smelling smoke and tracing it to its source, had discovered the flames before they had entirely consumed the excelsior. he had pulled the big box a few feet away from the building and then had sounded the alarm. the mystery lay in who wanted to destroy that hangar, and how he had dragged the box there without being discovered. extinguishing the fire was, of course, but a matter of a few moments. immediate examination was made of the box. unfortunately it had been partly consumed and the fire had, as fate would have it, eaten away that particular part which undoubtedly would have revealed to whom originally it was consigned. there was no question in the minds of anyone, however, but that it was one of the sort in which practically every crew that was to participate in the flight had received a part of its equipment. "there's something rotten in denmark, all right, to quote our friend shakespeare again," said big jack carew, "and it's plain enough that we've got to use every precaution against accident from now on. somebody is trying to put us out of this contest. we might thank them for the compliment, but i wish they would just come out into the open sufficiently to reveal their identity." "well, there isn't any doubt in my mind that we frustrated the original plot ourselves," added fred bentner, who by this time had hobbled up, and had taken in the whole situation from the little he had seen and the snatch of conversation he had heard. "yes," agreed the other two. "no doubt about it now. the fellow we saw sneaking around here earlier in the night was bent upon mischief." "and if i get my hands on him i'll have him in the calaboose before he knows what's happened to him," added a voice from behind, and all four turned to confront captain isaac allerson, late sailor of the northern seas, onetime whaling captain, and now, by virtue of the votes and confidence of his fellow-citizens, the town "constabule." he looked at them significantly and there was something threatening in his attitude. they were not slow to remember where and under what circumstances they had heard practically those identical words before. "do you think--" big jack carew began, and then stopped. "young man," the ex-whaler supplemented, "i'm thinkin' a whole lot of things i ain't sayin' just now. but you can bet yer last dollar that i'm keepin' both eyes peeled and both ears open." instinctively they gazed over the throng that still stood about, even though the fire was now entirely extinguished. "huh!" captain allerson exclaimed, and suddenly walked away. in a moment he approached the unpopular, and at that moment unsuspecting, henryson, who was standing on the outer edge of the crowd. "that's strange," was the old seaman's expression, in a tone loud enough for all to hear, and attracting instant attention. "what is?" asked henryson, who could not ignore the fact that it was he who was being addressed. bentner asked the others later if they, too, thought that a half-frightened look came into the norwegian's eyes as the mentor of law and order addressed him. "why," captain allerson replied, slowly, and in bitingly incisive tones, "you seem to be about the only one around here that had time to stop and dress fer this here surprise party tonight." henryson muttered something about having been cold, and sleeping with his clothes on, and then abruptly turned and stalked away toward the hut he was occupying. "bad egg, that," growled the old sea captain, as he came over again to big jack and the members of his crew. but he had time for no more, for the members of the other crews had gathered around to congratulate the youths on the fact that the fire had been discovered in time, and to speculate as to who the villain was who had tried to burn them out. true sportsmen that they were, the young men said nothing of their suspicions, and the others, if they shared such thoughts, kept them to themselves. there was instant agreement, however, that with a skulking incendiary around, no hangar or its valuable contents was safe, and that the best insurance against a hidden foe lay in a constant night patrol by at least two men. it was arranged, therefore, that two would continue such watchfulness throughout that night, and that thereafter, until the flight began, this vigilance would be kept up by two men on duty throughout the entire time from sunset to sunrise, each couple doing duty for four hours. in the drawing of lots which followed, don harlan and a man named joe harrity were selected to patrol the hangar section throughout the balance of that night; and this was completely satisfactory to all concerned, for they were equally popular and trusted among their fellow aviators. naturally, with the entire town so aroused, not even the boldest malefactor would be expected to pay another pilgrimage to the scene of his attempted work of arson that same night, and nothing further happened, although both don and harrity held secret hopes that the fellow would put in an appearance, so that they might at the same time learn his identity and his motive. early in the morning jack, fred and andy had a hasty breakfast and then hurried to the hangar just as don was returning to snatch a few hours' sleep to make up for the long vigil. "see anything further?" jack asked. "no," don answered. "the fellow, whoever he is, didn't return, but i wish he had." "well, we're going over every inch of that plane today," jack informed him. "but i've just been thinking that it might be best not to say anything; in fact, to make it seem that our suspicions have been lulled to sleep." "yes," said don, "i'm inclined to believe, with you, that that is our best method of self-protection." "all right, then, we'll say nothing to anybody. if we discover anything it may help us to solve this mystery." don continued to the hut, where he warmed up the breakfast the other three had left for him. meanwhile they were at the hangar, beginning their minute examination of their plane. it was well toward noon, and when they were coming to the conclusion that no matter what might have been the designs against them, none had been successfully carried out, when andy made a sudden exclamation which brought the others to his side. for more than an hour he and jack had gone over the engine together, while fred had made every possible test of the electrical and radio equipment. jack and fred were at this time examining the elevators and rudder, and andy was going over the fusilage, carefully inspecting every inch of strut and frame work, and by accident had laid his hand on one of the main bracing wires. his trained touch had brought the involuntary exclamation. "what is it?" jack asked, as nearly excited as he ever permitted himself to get. for a moment andy did not reply. when he did it was to ask the others to come closer. "look at this," he said, pointing with index finger to a place far up on the bracing wire. now it may be explained here that for the purposes of strength and endurance these wires are made up of many smaller strands, finely twisted together. sometimes one of these strands will break, and often a careless aviator, or an over-confident one, or one who does not want to subject himself to what he regards as an unnecessary delay, although he knows the danger inherent in such a course, will clip off the broken strand, close up to the main wire of which it is a part, and do the job so well that even a trained inspector might not easily discover how, to save time, he was endangering his own safety and perhaps the lives of others. during the war, when often time was the main objective, when danger was laughed at, and even human life was valued cheaply, many an aviator came to his death through a collapse of his machine directly due to the fact that he or other aviators, perhaps over a considerable period, had clipped off and thus hidden so many broken strands in a single wire that finally it broke completely, perhaps telescoping the entire machine. in this instance andy had discovered at least half a dozen broken and carefully hidden strands of a single important bracing wire, and there was no doubt that it had been done deliberately by someone planning the ruin of that plane long after it was on its way from america to europe. for a moment the very dastardliness of the deed was so disconcerting that the three youths found themselves speechless. there was no doubt of the meaning of the discovery. the plot was a daring one to defeat this machine and crew in the race, and it had been designed and carried into effect in a way that, had it not been discovered in time, probably would have cost them their lives. "well," ejaculated jack, the first to recover himself. "somebody certainly loves us." "yes," said andy, "they wish us well--well out of the way." from the window they could see donald approaching, refreshed by his morning's nap. "let's wait until he gets here," fred suggested, "and then hold a council of war." in a few words donald was told of the situation. at first they thought it would be well to take captain allerson into their confidence, but on calmer consideration they agreed that he might inadvertently drop the tip, and then, after all, the culprit might not be caught, with the resulting danger that this or some other machine would start upon the flight mortally crippled, destined never to reach europe. "better keep the thing to ourselves for a day or two, anyway," was jack's counsel, "and then determine how we are to let the others know." "well, i'll tell you what i'm going to do," said fred bentner, his countenance set determinedly and a glint in his fine eyes. "i'm just going to fix this machine so that anyone who touches it will stay here until we arrive." "how?" asked andy flures. "i'm going to charge every metallic part with a sufficient voltage of good old electric juice to give the shock of his life to anyone who lays his hands upon those parts," fred answered. "that's the best idea yet," agreed jack enthusiastically. "that is, providing you can give it sufficient voltage." "well," fred went on, "i'll connect up enough of the juice that even if it won't hold a man it'll bring such a surprised yell out of him that anybody within a hundred yards will know he has touched something hot." chapter iv the tamperer captured as a preliminary to his plans for catching this dangerous meddler red-handed if he ever returned to meddle again, fred first asked big jack to return to their hut and bring up to the hangar a box of heavy and powerful auxiliary batteries which had come to them by express, to be carried along on their flight for use in any emergency in which the electrical equipment of their plane, either with respect to engine or radio service, might go wrong. while jack was on this errand, fred set donald to work digging a hole beneath the plane large enough to contain this battery box when it should arrive. with the aid of andy he began the secret wiring of the plane in such a way that the wires could be charged without danger of damage to any of the vital parts of the plane--and it may be said here that practically every part of an aeroplane not only is essentially vital, but vitally essential. when jack returned, rather breathless from lugging a load that a weaker man could not have managed, they carefully wrapped the battery box in an oilcloth tarpaulin, to prevent any damage to it from the dampness of the ground, then buried it with only the wires protruding, and with still a layer of two inches of dirt to be put on after a single small cable of many insulated strands had been attached. fred then took a length of heavy ordinary hemp rope, a little longer than sufficient to reach from one of the bracing wires to the ground. from this bracing wire he directly and indirectly connected up every metallic part of the aeroplane, except the engine. he then heated a small straight iron rod almost white hot, and, with a bucket of water close at hand, forced the hot rod through the center of the strand of rope, immediately dropping the latter into the bucket to prevent it from burning through. by this time his scheme was becoming apparent. he ran the cable of wire through the rope, attached one end to the batteries, then completed their concealment and finally hung the strand of rope over the fusilage of the plane as though it had been carelessly tossed there, but with a complete connection established. no one, without picking the rope up for careful examination, could possibly have detected or even suspected its purpose. it just looked as though it had been left there for no particular purpose whatever. fred then went to the engine, did a few secret tricks that he knew of there, and then turned on the battery switch of the plane. "now," he said, "i think the trap's all set for our friend, the enemy. let us hope he walks into it." he gathered up all the tools and implements with which he had been working, carefully replaced them where they belonged, with his own hands again smoothed off the ground where the auxiliary battery box had been buried, and then, with a final survey of his surroundings and a gentle pat or two to the rope, pronounced their work completed. "let's go eat," said big jack. they started for the hangar, but had gotten but a few feet away when he halted. "what's up now?" don demanded. "forgot my pipe; be with you in a second," big jack answered, and returned to the hangar. an instant later there was a loud and sudden masculine howl. the others jumped in consternation, but fred merely grinned. "forgot it was loaded, i suppose," he said, as they retraced their steps. "holy christmas," gasped the big pilot as they entered. he was tenderly rubbing his right arm and hand. "i got it first," he grinned. "fool-like, laid my hand right on one of the wires in reaching for my pipe. i'll say you've connected up the juice, all right. enough there to run a trolley car." fred, however, was not listening. he was at the doorway, looking in all directions. "i guess you didn't give it away," he said, "but you sure yelled like a stuck dutchman." "try a little of your own medicine, maybe you'll yell, too," jack retorted. "didn't rig it up for that purpose, thank you," said fred, a little sarcastically. "but let me suggest that if you're really after a little electrical treatment, put your hand somewhere on the engine. that will tickle you to your toes." "toes don't need tickling," big jack responded. "i've got my pipe; let's get out." they were on their way to the express office when two newspaper correspondents stopped them to get their views as to who had started the preceding night's fire. "bully story as it is," said the one who represented a large new york daily, "but a hundred times better if the guilty party should be found." "yes," said the other, attached to a boston paper, "and we'd like to get your own dope on the subject." "guess you know about as much as we do," jack said easily, with a guarded glance of warning at his companions. he knew that to reveal the discovery of the deliberately damaged wire, coming directly after the incendiary fire, would be a sensational story in the hands of any first-class reporter; but he had no mind to warn the enemy of how far his activities were known. "hear there's to be a regular all-night watch from now on," suggested the new york man. "yes," jack answered. "just as a sort of precaution, you know. it wouldn't be fair to ourselves and what we represent in this contest--and i'm speaking of each crew now, and not merely this one--to permit anything to happen that might be prevented." "then you do expect something more to happen?" the bostonian persisted, the instinct of his profession catching something in jack's way of phrasing his last remark that instantly sharpened his news sense. "well--" jack began, but fred interrupted, with a sly wink at andy and don. "we'll put it this way," he said, "if one thing happens probably two will. no," he hastened, as he saw the men getting ready to question him further, "no further explanations. and don't take what i said too seriously, either." they passed on, leaving the two newspaper men to speculate as to what fred could have meant, if anything. "publicity won't hurt," said fred, laconically. "and we didn't tell them anything." at the express office there was a note for jack. it was from the telegraph office, asking that he call there for a telegram. needless to say, they lost no time in going to the latter place. "wire here for me?" jack asked. "name's carew." "yes, sir; much obliged to you for stopping in for it," the telegraph operator answered, at the same time shooting a queer look at the group as he passed over the long yellow envelope. jack tore it open, unfolded and glanced at the yellow sheet within, then gave a short laugh. "it's from the weather man at washington," he said to the operator, "and he says we'll probably have a snowy christmas." "humph!" was the only expression of the knight of the key as the four filed out of his office. "smart aleck!" he muttered, when the door had closed behind them and they were well out of hearing. it was, in fact, a code telegram from the henckel-bradley company, makers of the plane in which the lads were about to attempt the overseas flight. "guess we'd better go over to the quietude of the hut to try and dope this out," jack suggested, and they headed immediately in that direction. there, to facilitate matters, the work was divided between three of them. jack, word by word, read off the almost nonsensical conglomeration of unconnected nouns and verbs, while don, with the code key book, looked up their meanings, which he called out in low tone to fred, who was seated at the rough table in the center of the room. "bannister knock hounding snowstorm christmas joy hat euchre brains," jack read off the entire code telegram. "well, i'll admit that's one to stagger the wisest operator, although on its face it seems to indicate both snow and joy next christmas. however, let's see what it actually means. are you ready, don?" "shoot," said the other laconically, thumbing the code book impatiently. "bannister," jack called off. don turned several pages, ran a finger down one column, came to a halt. "this looks interesting," he exclaimed. "bannister: take every precaution." "right," announced fred, writing down the words. "knock," jack read off again. the process was repeated, and: "knock: against," don gave the interpretation. "hounding." don found it, and read off, while fred wrote: "attempt to." "we're progressing," jack encouraged. "and now we come to the snowstorm." "snowstorm?" don repeated. "let's see. yes, here it is: damage plane." "holy smoke!" exclaimed fred, reading the telegram as thus far translated. "'take every precaution against attempt to damage plane.'" "yes, but we're not through yet," said jack. "don, tell us what christmas means." "why, the season of good cheer, when you spend all your money on presents for others," andy quickly interrupted. "here," jack warned, "you're just an outsider in this. let's hear what 'christmas' stands for." "braizewell," don announced from the book. "by george, the maker of henryson's machine." "right you are," the others agreed. "joy," jack next called out. "may," don almost instantly replied. "hat," jack went on. "hat! hat!" murmured don, skimming through the pages, "where the deuce is my hat? ah, here she be. hat: employ." "braizewell may employ," fred read from the balance of the completed code message. "euchre, what's euchre?" insisted big jack. "euchre seems to be 'desperate,'" don responded. "and now the last," from jack. "brains." "cinch," andy interrupted again. "what you haven't got." "methods," don gave the translation, ignoring the interruption. "well, this is interesting anyway," said fred, with the now completed message before him. "here's the whole of it: 'take every precaution against attempt to damage plane. braizewell may employ desperate methods.'" "phew!" don ejaculated. "it seems to me that braizewell, through that scoundrel of a pilot of his, already has attempted to employ desperate methods. this holds out a mighty pleasant prospect for our peace of mind so long as we're held here, i'm thinking." "guess old cap. allerson ain't a whale of a sleuth, eh?" put in jack. "looks as though he had doped henryson out all right," fred agreed. "yes, i wish when i was doing the job of sticking him into the mud i'd shoved him clear through to china," added andy, apparently the least concerned of the four, and actually smiling in spite of the gravity of the situation that confronted them, as he recalled the ridiculous picture of the scheming pilot, henryson, planted head-first in the mire, his feet waving frantically in the air. "say," he added, a sudden thought hitting him. "that fellow ought to be stuck up that way for life, with a sign hanging on him, 'don't approach; i'm contaminated.'" "i'm not afraid to predict that before long he'll be stuck up before the whole world as a cowardly trickster," said jack. "he's bound to be caught at his dirty game sooner or later. he can't get away with it forever. why, right now half the fellows suspect that he had some sort of a hand in that fire." "well, for the sake of our friend captain allerson, if the fellow is trapped i hope it's the whaling cap.--the town constabule--who lands him." of a sudden it seemed that the whole comparative quietude of halifax was stirred by a series of shrieks and howls, not by one person, but in a ripping, blood-stirring, inharmonious duet. "what in the name of sense is that!" exclaimed jack, hurrying to the door of the hut and throwing it wide open. "leggo! for the love of mike, leggo!" a strident appeal came to their ears. "saints of the seven seas, leggo yerself, ye fool; i'm hitched an' cain't," came a heavier but no less pained and angered tone in answer. "ow! oh, ow!!" the weaker voice continued to cry. "crabs of the caribbean," the gruffer one added. "what in the name of neptune did ye do to this thing. it ain't no flying contraption; it's alive." there was no longer the slightest doubt about it. the cries of distress came from their hangar, and unquestionably from the town constabule, captain allerson, and the fire-brand pilot, henryson. chapter v startling reports the lads had no snowshoes to impede their progress this time, and the race to the hangar was a real contest, given zest by the anticipation of the ludicrous spectacle that was to greet them there. slim-limbed don won out, but he had hardly poked his head in the partially opened door when the other three were on the scene. for a moment all four of the young men went into veritable convulsions of laughter. they roared out in gales of merriment which they could not suppress. for the time they forgot either to pity poor captain allerson, "town constabule," or to resent the evident malicious interference of henryson, which evidently had brought both men into their present predicament. here was the despised henryson, apparently clutching for dear life at one of the heavier braces of the plane, although in reality the trap had worked and he was caught there, unable to separate himself from the stiff current which the lads had connected up; while captain allerson seemed to be in an even worse plight, his present attachment being to the engine, through which an even heavier current of electricity was flowing. "what in heck ye laffin' at, anyway?" the captain finally managed to bawl out, at the same time tossing his head quickly to throw off the streams of perspiration which were coursing down his wrinkled brow. "oh, ho! oh, my golly," gurgled andy, half doubled up with laughter. "grab it! capshure it! step on it! do somethin'. kill it!" the old whaler yelled in strident panic. henryson, however, who knew exactly how he had been caught--knew not only that, but that his previous schemes must have come to light, else the trap would not have been set for him--kept a pained silence, his face aflame with anger and shame. at length big jack managed to put on a stem judicial appearance, although only with the greatest difficulty. he viewed the pair severely for a moment, and then, grave of visage and in the most biting tones he could control, he pretended not to understand the situation at all, and demanded an explanation. "what does this mean, anyway?" he stormed. "i find you two in our hangar, apparently about to carry off our plane, according to your positions, and all the time yelling 'leggo!' and 'kill it!' and a lot of other nonsense like that. 'leggo' what? and who do you want killed?" "oh, don't try to be funny," henryson, snarled. "guess you know all 'about it inasmuch as you arranged it. turn off the juice." "the juice?" echoed captain allerson, still squirming in the clutches of a power he could neither see nor understand. "if i were you i wouldn't criticize anybody, or even make suggestions," andy flures blurted out, in real anger, and advancing on henryson threateningly. "you're in a pretty tough hole, and you ought to know it." henryson drew back suddenly as though he had been struck. for the instant he even seemed to forget the direct cause of his present predicament. "i'll turn off the juice, all right," big jack announced. "but after i do we'll have a little conversation. we'd like to know some of the facts relating to this rather--er--unusual situation." "turn 'er off first, an' we'll conversation afterward," captain allerson blurted out sharply. "i've had enough o' this stuff to last a life time." fred severed the connection to the buried battery, and don swung off the engine switch. the two men nearly dropped over with their sudden release, but the ex-whaling captain hadn't finished rubbing his injured hands together before he turned almost murderously upon the not completely dejected henryson. "now, you," the officer of canadian law thundered. "yer under arrest. i dunno jest yet what the charge is, but if it's anything like what i got from this thing here it'll hold ye fer life. i'm warnin' ye not to try to get away." "let's get at the facts," big jack suggested, pointedly. "we'll do that, and mighty quick," captain allerson answered, forceful if not grammatical. the four men gathered around, and in such a way that they were between henryson and the door, so that he could not possibly make his escape. "it was this here way," the police force began ponderously, all the time glowering at the discovered trickster, who refused to meet the gaze of any of the others. "i didn't know how much you suspected concernin' this mean meddler, but i had 'im marked from the very beginning as the original messenger of misery. consequent thereto, i nachurally had an eye peeled fer him ever since that little fracas with the snowshoes when he showed up his sweet disposition. "i ain't 'zactly pinned that fire to him yet, but i guess this is what them lawyer fellers calls circumstantial evidence of a convictin' nature. "i sees him headin' this way a while ago, an' all the time actin' zif he didn't want to invite the general public to whatever festivities it was he was about to attend. so i thought i'd just nachurally trail along, sufficient in the rear an' out of sight so he wouldn't know what an interestin' cuss he'd become. i didn't want to arouse his suspicions, ner flatter his vanity neither. "well, just as i expected, he took a roundabout way, but his general direction was toward this place, and finally he reached it. once he was inside, i wasn't long gettin' here either. i peeked in, and sure 'nough, there he was a-monkeyin' around, with no good in his twisted mind, i'll bet. "i tiptoed in just as he was about to do somethin' to one o' them there wires. i sneaked around the side o' the plane, and was jest about to ast him sudden like what he was doin' in this here hangar, when i put my hand on somethin' thet seemed to run hot and cold both at the same time, an' be full o' needles, too; and i give a surprised little remark which causes him to jump, and touch his tender hand to thet wire, which seemed to be loaded the same way. "the resultin' general conversation directed toward effectin' our release, i believe you heard." "just as i thought," said big jack, turning furiously toward henryson. "now, you pup, what were you doing here?" "why," henryson stammered confusedly, in a quavering voice, "i just dropped in to see whether any of you fellows were here. i wanted to find out how you had outrigged your machine against extraordinary winds." "yeh, wanted to loosen it up a little, so that the first wind would cause the whole plane to collapse, eh?" demanded andy, advancing again upon the culprit. "what do you mean?" henryson could hardly more than whisper. "you know well enough what's meant," fred interjected, while don, his mind's eye picturing the tragedy which might and probably would have overtaken them if the treachery had not been discovered in time, stood silently by, merely clenching and unclenching his hands as an unconscious way of working off some of his pent-up anger and disgust at such inhuman and underhand work. but before henryson or anyone else could say anything further, big jack had grabbed that misguided young man by the scruff of the neck, and, with no one, not even captain allerson, attempting to interfere, thrust him toward that part of the plane where the cut strands of the wire had been discovered. "i suppose you don't know anything about that little job, eh?" jack demanded, shaking henryson as a terrier might shake a rat. "what do you--why, i--i--i--" "oh, shut up, you cowardly idiot," interrupted captain allerson. "if you can't say one honest word, don't say anything at all. you're convicted already, and i guess it means a nice term of solitude fer you, too." "now look here," andy broke in. "this bird's as guilty as satan, and he knows it, and he knows we know it. however, i'm of no mind to let one crook like him besmirch a science, a sport and a profession which decent men have kept decent and clean and far above that sort of thing. "captain, if you'll agree, i'll tell you what we'll do. if this fellow will get out of halifax and clear out of canada immediately after he has fought me, we'll let it go at that, and it'll save you spoilin' your hands on him. will you do it?" captain allerson was not the only one who turned in surprise on andy. but nobody said anything, and finally captain allerson said: "well, if i can be a witness to the scrap, and afterward see that he leaves on the first train, i'll agree. i'll admit it ain't just the thing to do under the circumstances, but then it would be a shame to let the government spend its money in prosecuting such a skunk. are you game fer that there proposal, which is a dern sight easier than you deserve, although i suspect yer going to get the deservin' lickin' of yer life?" he demanded, turning on henryson. "oh, i guess the five of you could frame me up, all right," henryson answered sullenly, seeking some way to agree to this comparatively easy way of escape without seeming to entirely admit his guilt. "it ain't no frame-up," snapped constabule allerson sharply. "you can take yer choice, providin' you do it within the next sixty seconds. you can employ a lawyer and fight the charges, if you prefer to take yer chances there." "oh, i'm not afraid to fight," henryson retorted, seeing the way opening for him to take that alternative. "i'll tell you what i'll do. without disputing any of the points further i'll accept this challenge, with the idea that if i win i stay and there's nothing more said. if i'm licked i'll leave." "well, you brazen pup!" ejaculated captain allerson. "agreeable to me," andy retorted, "for it amounts to the same thing after all. you're going to be licked, and licked so you won't forget it for some years to come; and then you're going to sneak out of here as rapidly and as quietly as you can. you can make your own explanations to the other crews if you want to. we won't discuss the matter after you're gone." "well, where's this here struggle to take place?" demanded the former whaling captain, much more favorably disposed to this method of solving the difficulty than by merely placing the meddling pilot under arrest. "why not here?" asked don. "we'll roll the machine out, then close the door and start proceedings." "guess that's best, providing no one else finds out what's going on," captain allerson agreed. "but i'm going to be referee of this match, and there ain't going to be any funny work, either." he shot another vicious look at henryson. while big jack remained within to see that the captured pilot did not escape the consequences of his misdeeds, the other three young men rolled the machine out, left it standing in front of the hangar, as several other machines were then before other hangars at some distance away, and then returned, locking the door behind them. "inasmuch as this is to be a fight, and not a boxing exhibition," said andy, "i'd suggest that there be no rounds, and that the only rules to be the rules of fair play--not to hit below the belt." "that's settled as soon as sed," declared captain allerson with finality. both combatants stripped off their collars, neckties and shirts, and in two minutes stood before each other, ready for the fray. big jack surveyed them appraisingly. so did all the others. no doubt about it, both were magnificent specimens of masculine physique. andy was the shorter by perhaps an inch and a half, and to the same extent had the disadvantage in reach; but as offsetting that he had a greater depth of chest and breadth of shoulder, was undoubtedly the stronger and therefore the harder hitter, and in addition was as quick as a tiger on his feet. above all, jack concluded as he compared them, andy had the great additional psychological advantage of being in the right, while henryson, no matter how callous his conscience might be, could not evade the knowledge that he was so entirely in the wrong as to be mighty close to being within the criminal class. "odds on andy," big jack murmured to himself as the men squared off before each other, captain allerson just outside of the large ring which he had marked off with the toe of his heavy boot. "are you ready?" captain allerson demanded, suppressing his own excitement with some difficulty. the men nodded, but neither uttered a sound, so intent was each in measuring and watching the other. "then go to it," captain allerson announced, and involuntarily stepped back a couple of paces as the two men began sparring around for an opening. in another instant it became apparent that this was to be no child's play. it was the cruelest sort of a fight that can be had--with bare knuckles. biff! henryson landed the first blow, but only a glancing one, across andy's shoulder. it seemed to have needed that and only that to touch off the spark of fury in the usually good-natured andy flures. like a whirlwind he came at his antagonist, his arms working like irresistible pistons, and so rapidly that even the onlookers could hardly count the blows. they landed on henryson's face, head, body and stomach. but he was no weakling, nor was andy endowed with the stamina to keep up such a ferocious attack indefinitely. if nothing else, neither he nor any other man had the lung power to keep up the breath necessary for such an onslaught. [illustration: like a whirlwind he came at his antagonist.] realizing that he might be wearing himself down too early in the struggle, andy slowed up. henryson, mistaking this for a weakening, and being somewhat fresher, though badly battered, by having been entirely on the defensive, tried to rush. andy deftly stepped aside, and henryson staggered to the opposite side of the ring before he regained his balance. as he did so andy came at him again. the brief respite seemed to have given him renewed strength and determination. he landed a blow on henryson's chest with his left, and almost at the same instant broke down the latter's defense and landed on his nose with his right. the jolt of the two terrific impacts, and the spurt of blood which followed the second, sent henryson into a blind and impotent rage. he attempted andy's rushing tactics and came to an abrupt halt on a right hand jab that sent him reeling out of the ring. "get back there and fight, you yellow pup," growled captain allerson, at the same time giving the badly battered henryson a vicious shove. andy, however, did what his adversary never in the world would have done. instead of putting him out of his misery then and there, he waited, with hands down, until henryson had again put up his fists in defense. they came together with another rush and whirled about the hangar like two savages in a wild dervish. "break that clinch," ordered the erstwhile sailor of the northern seas, bringing to bear the little knowledge he had gained from newspaper sporting pages, and at the same time rushing in to perform the duties of referee. whether purposely or by accident, henryson at just that instant reached forward with a quick short jolt. it caught captain allerson a clout under the chin. "holy mackerel!" exclaimed the amateur referee, jumping back in pained surprise. but the men separated, and the fight was on again with such earnestness and bitterness that no one, not even captain allerson himself, paid further attention to this accident. henryson landed a stiff jolt to andy's short ribs which elicited a deep grunt. his adversary again made a fatal mistake. he interpreted it as the first signs of a weakening. he didn't know andy. that young man simply came back like lightning. both men were breathing heavily by now, and henryson was almost covered with blood, while he had been unable to inflict a single cut or serious bruise on his wary opponent, who seemed to be in half a dozen parts of the ring almost simultaneously. "get at 'im," don muttered, hardly aware that he had given expression to his thoughts or feelings. but andy heard, and it seemed as if it had required only this urge, this expression of confidence from his friend, to put him into what was to be the grand finale of the fight. he swung viciously with his left and caught the unprepared henryson with terrific force just above the heart. before henryson could even recover his balance, andy let go with his right. it landed with the power of a motor truck behind it. it caught henryson on that fatal spot, the point of the jaw, and lifted him clear of the ground. he staggered for an instant and then dropped in an unconscious, and for the moment a seemingly lifeless, heap. andy looked at him for only a second, and then dropped his clenched hands. he, as well as the others, knew that the blow had been struck which had ended the fight. henryson was _out_. captain allerson glanced at the defeated pilot, and then walked over to andy. "young man," he said. "i'm not supposed to watch fights without interferin'. i want to congratulate you upon makin' a most excellent job of this one." henryson stirred and muttered something incoherent. he was still only half conscious. don stepped outside the hangar for a moment and returned with a basin of water. "for him to wash up with, so he won't be delayed in getting out of town," he said laconically, to no one in particular. "oh, i'll escort him, all right. and i'll examine his ticket and have a word with the conductor, too, before he starts," captain allerson promised. henryson moved again, and this time opened his eyes. "get up, wash your face and put your clothes on," the minion of the law ordered brusquely. "you couldn't win your chance to stay here, even when you were given an opportunity to fight for it. come on; hustle. we don't want you contaminatin' the atmosphere around here any longer." slowly henryson seemed to regather his wits and to realize what had happened to him. he glanced at his person and involuntarily shuddered as he saw that he was literally covered with blood. one eye was nearly closed, and his nose was swollen to nearly twice its normal size. he arose stiffly, but without a word. "there's only one thing i want to say to you before you go," said big jack, standing squarely in front of him. "you got your licking here today; you got it fair and square; you're getting off mighty easy at that. if i ever hear of your being in aviation again, or if i ever catch you around a hangar or an aviation field, i'll instantly have you arrested and reveal all the facts of what has happened here in the last few days. do i make that clear?" henryson nodded sullenly, but his features had been so distorted that none of the men could tell whether he was sneering or not. at last clothed, and his general appearance made as presentable as possible, henryson briefly signified that there was nothing to keep him there longer. "we've just time to catch a train that don't make a stop until it gets a long way from here," captain allerson announced. "come on, stir yourself. and if you try to get away i'll shoot you. as a matter o' fact, i wouldn't be disappointed at havin' the chance." the odd pair strode out of the hangar and toward the railroad station. the four youths, watching them, saw several members of other crews at different points along the route hesitate, regard the two curiously, seem on the verge of saying something, and then hold their silence as the two passed hurriedly on. "well, that being over with, i think i'll go get some arnica for my wrists and knuckles," andy announced. "i haven't had such violent exercise since i came up with a fresh fritz in the argonne." "want me to go for you?" asked fred. "i'd be glad to. somebody might ask you a lot of questions, you know." "all right," andy agreed. "thanks." "and we'll replace this brace wire and test out the others while you're gone," jack supplemented. then, turning to andy, "you'd better sit around and rest for awhile it was pretty strenuous." fred departed, and the other two set themselves to the task of going over the entire plane. the drug store was a considerable distance away, and they had about completed their work when fred hove into sight on a dogtrot. they saw him half shout something to a couple of other men as he passed, and they noted too that in so doing he seemed to refer to a folded newspaper which he gripped tightly in one hand. he was almost breathless when he arrived. but he managed to blurt out enough to make big jack hastily grab the paper. "great scott!" he exclaimed as the big headlines caught his eye. he read them aloud. no need to recite them in detail here. they were pointedly to the effect that the peace conference had struck a serious snag; that japan was suspicious; her envoys obdurate; that a virtual ultimatum had been pronounced, and in such a way as to threaten a new war worse even than that which had just ended. "well, what do you think of that?" don ejaculated, more to himself than anyone else. "looks as though it might stop the flight, even if it doesn't develop into anything worse," said andy, who immediately had forgotten his painful knuckles. big jack was still reading the balance of the story, which was under a london date line. there was no question but that a very serious situation existed. within an hour all halifax was so agog with it that no one seemed to miss henryson, or to mention it if he did. even captain allerson gave way to new sensations as he measured the possibilities of a new war, and he merely reported briefly that henryson had been "deported," and with instructions to the conductor not to let him off the train within the next two hundred miles. that night half a dozen other would-be transatlantic contestants dropped into the hut which had come to be known as "big jack's." there were lengthy discussions and all sorts of predictions, but all they could do was to await the morning papers, which might contain further and more definite news. chapter vi new war clouds but if a clearing of the international political atmosphere was hoped for or expected in halifax the following morning, the disappointment there was as sad and deep as it was in a dozen national capitals, all the chancellories of europe, and in the state department at washington. deep depression seemed to prevail everywhere, and indeed not without good reason. the two newspapers of halifax gave little additional news to that of the day before, but even this was of the most discouraging nature. it began to look, in fact, as though the representatives of the japanese government had been instructed to seek a quarrel. it turned out later that that was not at all the case, but who could discern the real motives behind the demands of that critical time? crowds hung about the local newspaper bulletin boards, but throughout the day they added little to the meagre enough news that had been given early in the morning. shortly before noon jack received another code message from the makers of their machine, and with this the young men eagerly hurried to their hut, where they shut and locked themselves in, to avoid interruption during the process of deciphering, which, under the circumstances, was delayed rather than hastened by their own natural impatience. but if the message, when finally translated, foreboded serious difficulties ahead, it also bore the seeds of an almost unbounded enthusiasm upon the part of the four young men. "consider yourselves in government service," the message read, "and prepare for eventualities." of course, if this seemed to hold some indefinite sort of promise of more adventure, it also was filled with mystery, and might, after all, be entirely meaningless so far as concerned our four young friends, virtually for the time being chained in halifax. "what the deuce do you suppose it means, anyway?" asked fred, when they had for the tenth time tried at further diagnosis of the baffling message. "guess about the only thing we can do under the circumstances is to sit pat and wait for further developments or additional instructions," said big jack. "yes," added don, "and under those same aforementioned circumstances that's about the most tedious and difficult thing in the world to do." "well, admitting all that, what are you going to do about it?" asked andy, by this time utterly oblivious to a pair of swollen hands which still showed clear evidences of the battle of the day before. "under the said circumstances, nothing; that's what we'll all do for the present," fred answered gloomily. "righto! and it won't keep us very busy, either," assented andy, who was of a nature which refused to be suppressed. "fine weather, too, just by way of cheering humanity up," suggested big jack, as he gazed morosely out of the window. it was cloudy to the point of threatening more rain, which, of course, under the most favorable circumstances otherwise, would only mean further inevitable delays in any attempt at the across-sea flight. "oh, what's the use of growling? let's have a game of cribbage," andy the cheerful suggested. "you three can," fred answered, "but as for me, i'm going down to the station to wait for the outside newspapers to come in. i'm the original little handy guy when it comes to bringing home the news. i'll see what i can do this afternoon." and while the other three, for the want of anything better to do, sat down to the game, fred wandered off toward the station, knowing that fully half an hour more must elapse before the train would be in. that interval was not to be put in entirely without profit, however, for fred was to learn the natural sequence of the enforced departure of the treacherous pilot, henryson. he got it from another member of henryson's crew, who, either by message from the former, or by some intuition, seemed to know what had happened. this fellow merely informed fred that braizewell had decided not to enter his machine or crew in the transatlantic flight. a lot of things were becoming apparent since first discovery was made of henryson's treachery, and not the least among them was the fact that braizewell, being of that stamp, did not care to match his product against others in any honest competition. fred digested the statement about braizewell's withdrawal without comment. what was the use of discussion with a man who was probably familiar with, and subscribed to, all of braizewell's and henryson's carefully cooked-up but eventually unsuccessful perfidies? fred merely heard the bit of gossip and passed on. he wasn't interested in either braizewell or henryson, now that neither was in any respect a factor in the projected america-to-europe flight. he just loafed around the station until the train came puffing in, and from the baggage car a bundle of papers were tossed to the platform; and then his spirits awakened again and he was the first to get one from the news man. his spirits awakened, did we say? one glance at the front page and he flopped into one of the rough station seats to read half a column before he remembered his equally curious companions back at the hut, who were awaiting his arrival with the latest news. and it was news. conditions were reaching a crisis in the peace conference! not that conditions hadn't approached other crises there before; but they had been concerning minor matters as compared with the present difficulties. in a way it concerned the celebrated "open door" policy as regards china, which the illustrious john hay had established years before when secretary of state of the united states. it dealt with the disposition of shantung and chinese provinces which japan wanted; and it related intimately to japanese inquiries as to american guarantees to china, and american loans floated in behalf of that nation which today typifies the oldest and the slowest of civilizations. but the crux of the whole situation lay in the japanese demand to see the important documents. not that her envoys doubted the veracity of other delegations to the conference or the authenticity of reports and records which were shown. oh, no; of course not! time and again this was politely and diplomatically reaffirmed. there wasn't any doubt, only--well, japanese statesmen would like to see the documents and treaties; in fact, insisted upon it. at any other time the representatives of the united states might have adopted different tactics. but here were involved more issues than one; more governments than two; more nations than half a dozen. and there seemed to be a prevailing feeling in the peace conference that, aside from the rather roughly insistent way in which she was going about it, japan was within her rights in demanding to see and to know exactly what she was subscribing or binding herself to, especially since the president of the united states had himself, during the war, laid down the principle of "open covenants, openly arrived at." fred read enough of the article to give him an intelligent idea of the whole delicate situation, and then hurried off to the hut and his three waiting friends. they received the news with mingled feelings. there was the one of natural resentment at any delegation or government using pressure approaching force in dealing with the united states. there was that of speculation as to how it would end, and when. there was the uppermost question of all: what effect would this suddenly developed and new international situation have upon the proposed transatlantic flights? big jack strolled over again to the window to gaze out at the muddied atmosphere of halifax. from every viewpoint and everywhere it seemed to be a gloomy outlook. men fresh from war are wearied of it and have no desire for a new outbreak of that international pestilence. the glamor of it has gone; while they will of course fight if need be, they prefer the arts and the comforts of peace. they have learned to appreciate them a great deal more than they ever did before. certainly no one in this group wanted to see any renewal of blood-spilling conflict. "well," said big jack finally, turning from the window and addressing the other three who had been debating the problem among themselves, "the thing resolves itself into this: apparently the american delegation has yielded to the pressure of unanimous opinion, or nearly unanimous opinion, in the conference. but so far as i can grasp from reading this latest article, japan is attempting to demand to see something within a period almost impossible for it to be produced at the peace conference to be seen. that's the ugly part of it all. it looks like any pretext for balking--if not worse." "what i can't understand," said don, "is the reason for her insistence and hurry." "if we were familiar with the tricks and schemes of international dealings and diplomacy, perhaps all that might be clear," andy answered. "we don't know, of course, what japan has in mind, or what her envoys may have been led to believe." "true," said jack, "and after all, i guess that's a matter which safely can be left with the american delegation, headed by our president. but it does look like a ticklish situation." "the head-lines here seem to state it," fred added. "they're brief but to the point: 'japan demands immediate presentation of important treaties.'" "yes, under veiled threats of withdrawing from the peace conference," don supplemented. "i guess all this is sad news to the huns, eh?" "there's probably german trickery back of the situation somewhere," assented jack. "which doesn't settle the question of who's going to fry the steak and potatoes for supper," interjected andy. "only, if it's fred, for the love of mike will he please see that the frying process reaches the in'ards of the steak." accepting the reminder that it was near dinner time, and that it was, indeed, his day as cook, but utterly ignoring the suggestion that he didn't cook things through, fred arose to prepare the meal, and the useless consultation broke up with don starting to the store for lard, butter and other necessities, and big jack accepting the assignment of bringing in the wood. chapter vii summoned to washington could our friends have been in washington early the following day and in the confidence of the inner circles of the government, their spirits might have been far above what they were. in the first place, the state department had received word during the night, from no less an authority than the president himself, that the questioned documents in which japan had shown such an interest were to be sent to france at the earliest possible moment, by the quickest and most expeditious way, in the care of the most trustworthy messengers to be found. that of itself was a large order, and one likely to cause more than ordinary perturbation in the state department; but when a cabinet meeting was called and held a little later, and those present, knowing the seriousness of the situation as no outsider could know it, decided that the mission should be accomplished in record time, and that incidentally in so doing america would set a pace for the world by sending the documents over by aeroplane, then among the staid and conservative old-school statesmen of the service there was a great wagging of heads, whisperings and forebodings. nevertheless that decision was arrived at, and right speedily, too. the question then remained, who was to be trusted with the double responsibility of getting a plane across the atlantic, and of carrying the documents of world import? the head of the government's aero service was called into the secret conference, and to him the decision was revealed. the men selected must be of the finest caliber in ability, trustworthiness and capacity to hold their own counsel, and if necessary depend upon their own resources in any emergency which might arise. whom could he recommend? the sharp-visaged, snappy-eyed, gray-haired head of the air service listened in silence until the whole plan was outlined and the great question put to him. could he supply such men? such an aero crew? men who could be trusted not only to get to europe, but to get there with the documents? very calmly, as though answering an inquiry of everyday routine, the official who suddenly and for the moment had become the most important man in the united states, replied that he had such men. "and who are they?" demanded the assistant secretary of state, who, after all, would be called upon to bear the greatest part of the burden if any mishap occurred. "americans," snapped the aero service head, who, for his own reasons held no very friendly feelings toward this temporary chief of another and even more important governmental department. "yes, yes," replied the secretary of war, showing some impatience. "but who are they? where are they?" "they are now in halifax, waiting for opportune conditions to make the transatlantic flight. of course you all know their names." "halifax? halifax?" snorted the assistant secretary of state. "but, great scott, man, we want men who are here--at least in the united states--to start upon this trip at the earliest possible moment." "well, you can't start an unprecedented trip of this sort without preparation, and you can't start it at any old hour, or from any old point along the coast," retorted the air service man with equal spirit. "are they prepared for such a trip--for such an important mission, now?" asked the secretary of the navy. "they are prepared for such a trip, as well as any crew could be, and they are as capable, as courageous and as trustworthy as anyone could ask," was the response, "but of course, they did not contemplate a diplomatic mission at the same time. however, there is no reason why, if they are going across by plane, they should not carry documents, important or otherwise, with them." "but these documents are such that if they once start with them they must get across," interrupted the assistant secretary of state testily. "i see," remarked the air service man with fine sarcasm. "wind, sea, fate, predestination and everything else be hanged. they've just got to suspend all elements for the time being and get across. that's perfectly clear." the assistant secretary of state sputtered for a moment and got purple with rage. but before he could explode into language more violent than diplomatic, the secretary of war intervened. "how long would it take that crew to come from halifax to washington?" he asked. "by plane?" "yes." "if they were given orders by telegraph now, and barring mishap, they could be on hand here tomorrow morning easily." "very well then," said the secretary of state, turning to address his colleagues of the cabinet, "i suggest that we ask general bronson to issue such instructions by wire or wireless to these young men at once, so that they may personally receive their instructions here tomorrow morning." "yes, but--" the assistant secretary of state, still scowling in the direction of general bronson, started to say something; but inasmuch as it sounded like a remonstrance, and as his innate conservatism and antipathy to things modern were well known, he was interrupted by the secretary of the navy. "it is the only feasible thing to do," he said. "therefore it ought to be done at once." "very well, then," answered the assistant secretary of state reluctantly, while the others present agreed without further question or qualification. "my understanding is, then," said general bronson, rising and making ready to depart to carry out his share of the problem, "that i am at once to get in touch with the members of this crew, to have them come here by plane, and if possible be on hand by tomorrow morning." "correct, sir," responded the secretary of war. "you probably will instruct them to land on the field over near fort meyer?" "yes, sir," responded general bronson, and, saluting in true military style, left the room. thus it was, although the four young men in far-off halifax could not know the preliminaries which had led up to it, that before o'clock that morning a code message that was to be of world importance went sizzling through the air from one powerful wireless station to another, finally to be relayed by wire to the point outside halifax proper, where the flying field and hangars marked the point from which the first transatlantic aeroplane flight was to be attempted. when they had received and translated it, the young men stood for a full minute looking at each other--as big jack explained it afterward, entirely flabbergasted. "come to washington immediately by plane," the wireless read. "land potomac below city. secrecy important." and they didn't know that as he wrote this message general bronson had had his own little chuckle at the expense of the secretary of war, who seemingly knew so little about hydro-aeroplanes as to suggest that they land at fort meyer. "shoemaker should stick to his last," the head of the air service had muttered into his mustache as he penned the summons. among the four men in halifax, however, there was almost uncontrollable excitement and anticipation. they had put two and two together, and true to the law of mathematics it had made four. in other words, they were convinced that their summons to the national capital was directly connected with the international situation. everything pertaining to their plane had been ready even for an over-sea attempt since the careful inspection which had followed the capture of henryson in the hangar. they hurried there after reading the summons, to add the final details before their flight to the capital. this done, they ran the big bird-like machine out on its skids and down to the surface of the water. in less than an hour they were ready for the start. "trial on a day like this?" asked one pilot who sauntered up curiously. "not exactly a try-out," big jack replied, instantly realizing that here was a chance to lull suspicion and still idle gossip which otherwise would be awakened by their strange trip and stranger disappearance. "we're going to put her to some real preliminary tests in a long flight over land. of course, with the pontoons on, instead of wheels, we'll hug the coast line, so as to be able to land quickly if necessary; but we don't anticipate any trouble, although we may make it a two-days' trip." "h'm," the other man responded, looking at them queerly, as though he thought they were joking and expected them to laugh. "see you in a day or two," andy sang out as he opened the throttle. the engine began to bang out its challenging explosions and the propellers started to whirl. "so long," the other pilot shouted, apparently still dubious, as jack swung the plane round gently and she started to skim the water, gathering speed every second in preparation for taking the air. in fifteen minutes they were completely lost to the view of those who had hastily run to the shore line when the powerful chug-chug of the giant motor had first rent the air. for the double purpose, however, of saving time and giving their disturbed colleagues every assurance that they were not in fact making the transatlantic attempt, they headed due south, and were still keeping that direction when they disappeared from sight. an hour later fred opened up the wireless and finally got the halifax station. "headed south, putting plane through tests," he tapped off by radio. "may be gone day or two." he might have added, but didn't, "on important government business." chapter viii "deliver these at paris" ask anyone who knows, and he will tell you that there is nothing to compare to the zest of the aerial flight. those contemplating it for the first time view it with mixed feelings of trepidation and anticipation, but once in flight there is only unbounded exhilaration. the experience is like that of throwing off shackles which have bound one to a narrow earthly existence; mere human cares and worries are for the time at least forgotten, and one feels the freedom of the birds and glows with the very pleasure of it. fears which beset the preliminaries are forgotten; the imagination is awakened with new ambitions; life seems to hold forth previously unthought-of possibilities. and the real joy of it all is that the aerial flight never loses its thrill, never fails in these and new sensations. add to this the mystery contained in their unexpected summons to washington, and the natural pride stirred by the anticipation of being called upon for some important service, and you have some realization of the feelings which animated these four young men as, at a cruising speed of ninety miles an hour, they continued their voyage southward, a mile and a half in the air, two miles out to sea from the shore line, looking like a giant eagle in the sky to those who discovered or discerned them at all. as for personal comfort, they were as free from the driving wind as though they had been riding in a limousine automobile, for indeed this was a limousine airship, thoroughly enclosed as concerned the nacelle, or cock-pit and fusilage, which contained the crew and access to every part of the engine, radio, etc. occasionally fred would catch snatches of wireless messages, but mostly they were of a commercial and therefore uninteresting character. it was about midnight when they came within that sky glow which informed them that they were approaching the metropolis of america--new york. "think of the damage a bomber could do, and the consternation it could raise down there," said don. "let's circle around two or three times, just for the fun of it. we've got plenty of time now." and they did. cutting inland, they crossed almost directly over the heart of the city, continued over the north river and above hoboken, swung down and around newark, out over the bay and then upward toward the big city again, as though actually bent upon a mission of mischief. again they repeated this, and then swerved out over brooklyn and above the open sea again. a little more than an hour elapsed and they were above philadelphia. it lay like a great black splotch on the ground, the meagre moonlight playing on the delaware in a way to make it look like a great thread of silver. only a winding line indicated where the schuylkill cut the city in two, but where it joined the delaware the latter began to widen, and from the height of the plane they could see far below to where the river became a bay. ships dotted it here and there like little spiders resting on a pool. nothing moved. it was like a fairy visit to another and a dead world. the bay itself was so smooth that they decided to drop there for a few minutes, open their thermos bottles of coffee, which was still hot, eat a couple of sandwiches at leisure, and then continue the trip. finally finding a spot so remote from any ship that it was unlikely that their descent would be discovered, and thereby perhaps raise a furore of excitement and speculation as to who they were and what they were doing there at that queer time, they made their landing with such ease as hardly to cause a splash as they settled on the surface of the water. the inner man satisfied, they prepared for the continuance of their trip. there was a swift inspection of every part of the plane, and in another ten minutes they were again under way, the firing of the engines sounding like a miniature artillery bombardment on the stillness of the night. as they rose with the speed and strength and sureness of a giant eagle, they left the city of william penn far behind, noted the spot which indicated lewes, delaware, as it seemed to flit swiftly beneath them on the flank of the lower bay, then passed cape may and were out over the open sea again. the moon was now disappearing and it devolved upon don harlan, the navigator of the crew, by chart and compass and air-speed indicator (whose information, by the way, is always problematical, for reasons which will be explained in a moment), to guide them safely to their destination. now as to one of the present grave difficulties with which the navigators of the air have to contend, especially when flying over bodies of water, which, unlike flights over the ground, give no "landmarks" by which position may be determined. if there is, let us say, no wind whatever blowing, either with or against the direction of the plane, the air-speed indicator will register one hundred miles per hour speed when the plane is traveling at that rate. but let the plane, with its engines running at the same power, get into the teeth of a seventy-five-mile-an-hour gale, and with a seventy-five mile push back to a hundred mile an hour forward push of the engines, the speed-indicator will still register one hundred miles per hour (that is, air-speed), although the plane will actually be traveling a distance of only twenty-five miles per hour with relation to the ground. in other words, it is the principle of air pressure, and if there is no adverse air pressure, the indicator will show the exact speed of the plane. but the moment the plane is either augmented or retarded by favorable or unfavorable winds, the air-speed indicator becomes a very unreliable instrument for showing distances traveled: it practically only records the speed of the air pushed past the plane. it is like running at ten miles an hour with a pin-wheel in the hand on a perfectly calm day, and getting a certain velocity of revolutions of the wheel per minute. on another day one might stand still with the pin-wheel and permit the rush of a high velocity of wind to twirl it round with the same speed. and here is a hint to our youthful readers who are interested in mathematics and things mechanical: sometime somebody is going to invent an instrument which will record an aeroplane's actual speed with relation to the distance covered above the ground; in other words, which will actually show a speed of only twenty-five miles an hour when a hundred-mile-an-hour engine speed is being reduced to twenty-five by a head-on seventy-five-mile-an-hour gale; and the one who succeeds with that invention not only will make for himself a fortune, but then may turn his attention to the devising of another instrument, equally important, which will show how far a side wind is driving a plane out of its course. but don harlan had trained long and studiously to combat and conquer just such difficulties, and like the seasoned sailor who can look at a clear sky and seem to smell a storm brewing, or a squall coming, he had learned, by some intuition which he could not even attempt to explain, to estimate with almost miraculous accuracy to just what extent the wind was retarding them or blowing them off their course. he was bending over his charts now, marking off their course, registering the slight wind deviation, when an exclamation from fred, who sat at all times with the radio earpieces on, attracted the attention of all. with big jack and andy flures, the pilots, it was indicated merely by the briefest turning of the head, but don stopped short in his work to watch fred jotting down a message that was coming mysteriously out of the night. "official dispatch," he announced a moment later. "follow previous instructions. one remain with plane, other three at my office nine if possible. repeat." it was signed by bronson, head of the air service. fred threw on the switch of the radio and opened up with the code call. almost immediately he got a response. he repeated the message, and then gave their approximate location as don had plotted it out. there was a considerable delay, during which they concluded that the dispatch was being telephoned to general bronson, and then the answer came, "good work," and out of the silence of the night there was recorded no more. the balance of their journey was without incident, but every turn of the propeller, every explosion within the cylinders, it might be said, gave them renewed confidence that when they essayed the ocean flight, if that should be their privilege or their mission, they would do so with a machine as near to perfection as modern engineering could make it. it was hardly dawn when they settled on the surface of the potomac, and, with the time still left them made a cursory overhauling of their engine in search of any weaknesses or defects. they found none. it was as though the long trip from halifax to washington had been merely a warming-up, preliminary to some real test of staunch durability. it was immediately and amicably decided that fred, because of his knowledge of the wireless, which might catch some message relating to their disappearance from halifax and thus tell them what was being speculated about them, should remain with the plane, while the other three changed into the presentable "cits," or civilian clothes, they had brought with them, and carry out the balance of the instructions concerning meeting general bronson at nine o'clock at his office. we know what they were to be told, and it did not take general bronson, a man noted for his brevity, long to impart to them the fact that they were to undertake a mission which, considered in all its phases, was absolutely without precedent. "we will now go and meet the members of the cabinet," he said. in fifteen minutes they were in the presence of the men who had directed the various services of the government during the greatest war in the world's history. they were introduced, most critically looked over, and asked a few, but a very few, questions. then the assistant secretary of state gave them their final instructions. "you understand thoroughly the importance of these papers?" he asked. "absolutely, sir," big jack replied, and the other two nodded affirmatively. "very well, then," the assistant secretary of state replied. "the continued peace of the world may hinge upon your success. there must be no failure. you will guard these papers with your lives. i hand them to you in the presence of the members of the cabinet. _deliver these at paris._" chapter ix off to europe accustomed as they were to excitement and thrills, it was with an exuberance which they could not entirely submerge or control that big jack, don and andy flures repeated their instructions to fred bentner. "we return at once to halifax," jack continued, "replenish oil and petrol, mount a machine gun which already has been ordered there for us by wireless, and which will be secretly put into the hangar, so that no one will begin gossiping, and then we're off." "weather permitting, of course," suggested fred. "the international crisis is not being affected by the weather," jack answered. "only an impossible brand will prevent our getting away just as soon as we are ready. this is not to be a test flight under the most favorable conditions, but under whatever weather happens to prevail, once we get under way." "whew!" ejaculated fred. "this isn't to be any play or sporting contest." "it most certainly is not," said andy. "and it's very likely to develop into one of the toughest jobs we ever tackled, for more reasons than one." "relate them," fred urged. "well," andy continued, "why, for instance, the machine gun? these fellows in washington are not given to useless delays or to heroics. their attitude was mighty serious, and although they didn't mention it, i grasped that there might be interests which, if they knew we had these documents, might go a mighty long way to come into possession of them, or at least prevent their being presented at the peace conference in time to accomplish their purpose." "you're right," said don, seeming to catch the full significance of their possible difficulties for the first time. "by golly, i never gave that a thought." "well, all of us may before we're over," said andy. but by now they were ready for their return flight to halifax, from which it was necessary that they make their start, though for new reasons developed in the foregoing conversation, all of them wished that it might be possible to begin their flight from another and less prominent place. back over almost the identical route they had traveled on their journey to the capital, they flew the return trip, passing philadelphia and new york by daylight, however, at such a tremendous height that they were practically lost to view, coming along the rugged coast of lower new england as darkness began to close in on them. dense clouds entirely obscured the moon, and of necessity they reduced speed to "feel their way" against the strong east wind which tended to drive them inland. "it looks bad for a start tomorrow," jack said, as he glanced at the barometer which showed a downward tendency. "that'll change as we get further north, if i'm not mistaken," said don, casting a keen glance downward. "what's the altimeter show?" "we're up about ," andy answered, reading the register of their height. don again measured the angle between due north, as indicated by the compass, and their line of direction as shown by the longitudinal line of the plane. it showed that unconsciously in the dense blackness of the night they were again bearing inland. a few brief words from the navigator, and there was a slight increase of speed, accompanied by a bank and outward turn, and then, as the mist on the glass-encased nacelle showed they were on the cloud line, a drop of a couple of hundred feet. as they passed the rugged coast of maine they could hear great waves pounding on the rocky shore, but it came up to them only dimly against the throbbing of their engines and the soothing song of the resistless propellers. dawn found them above a coast line which none of them knew. it was bleak and barren, with no evidences of population upon it. "just as i reckoned," said don, easily. "the wind got behind us stronger than we knew. we've more than covered our destination. we're heading for labrador, and, at this rate, the north pole." the navigator was right. they banked and turned, and in three hours came within sight of welcome halifax. they made an easy descent and rolled their machine onto the portable skids to take it into the hangar. but so easily and logically had big jack explained their apparent purpose in being away that there was nothing more than an ordinary curiosity about them on their return. "took it easy," andy explained to one pilot who started inquiries. and then, as though in reality he was trying to hide some defects which had developed: "we stopped two or three times, of course, to look her over, or we would have been back sooner." the other pilot tried to hide a smile. andy had succeeded beyond measure. before noon they heard whisperings of the weaknesses their plane had developed while out. but while this speculation was running the gamut of the aero field, the four youths were working with all the speed they knew how to expend, to get the machine gun mounted, store aboard the necessary fuel and oil for the long and hazardous trip, stock up with two days' provisions, and get their rounds of ammunition and other incidentals in place. it was two o'clock that afternoon when big jack, with a final critical survey, announced everything complete. don went to the door and glanced out. there were not more than four or five persons in sight anywhere, and none of them near. it was instantly decided that the propitious moment was at hand. the four of them got behind the big plane, mounted upon its portable skids, and threw their weight against the well-balanced craft. but at that it was about all they could do to get it started, for in addition to its own weight, the plane carried four and a half tons of petrol, oil, ammunition, machine gun and rations. once started, however, the momentum made the job a comparatively easy one. glancing sideways, they could see that one or two men had stopped at a distance to watch them. apparently satisfied, however, that at most it was to be nothing more than another trial spin, they soon passed on. the giant bird-like machine was now floating on her own pontoons on the surface of the none-too-smooth water. "ready?" asked jack, curtly. "all set," the quick answer came back. "then," said big jack, in steady measured tones, as he grasped the throttle which flyers know as the "joy stick", "we're off." the engines banged, the propellers whirled, the stately craft glided down the waters with rapidly increasing speed, and in a few moments rose majestically into the air. like a bird loosed from its cage, it swerved about in an ever-widening circle, and then, to the manner of a homing pigeon picking up the scent, it turned its nose toward europe and soon was lost to sight. in the exhilaration of the "hop-off" the men had forgotten the difficulties that might lie ahead. could they have looked backward through a telescope as powerful as the one which was trained upon them they would have seen four strangers standing intently in the doorway of that which had been henryson's hangar, while within three mechanics worked furiously while two other men with equal haste were putting aboard supplies almost identical with those on the plane which already was under way. and could they have diagnosed this activity they would have known that germany had had not yet given up all hope--that a last desperate effort was to be made to divide the allies and to align japan with the huns. they might have guessed then that this effort would be directed toward intercepting or delaying the all-important documents now on their way to the peace conference by a transatlantic service never before attempted. chapter x pursued by an enemy plane but if the lads against whom their menace, their malice and their machinations were directed were not aware of the activities of these german spies and servants, the secret service of the united states was, and its watchful eye was upon them--more cleverly discerning than ever the eye of constabule allerson had been in following the movements and thwarting the purposes of that agent of evil, henryson. and even as these hun tools now were watching the american plane disappear over the horizon, so two government agents, from the secret recesses of the long abandoned coast guard storehouse were observing their every movement by the aid of two pairs of strong marine glasses. apparently mere curiosity-seekers and hangers-on around the scene of the proposed transatlantic hop-off, these two men had been constantly on guard, and as a matter of fact, to continue the concealment of their own identity, had apparently unconsciously dropped the tip which had first put captain allerson close on the trail of the incendiary and plane-fixer, henryson. so it was that within the next ten minutes one of the two, first making certain that he was unobserved, hurriedly left the rear of their hiding-place, leaving his companion there to continue the vigil while he took a circuitous route and a little later, in what seemed to be the most aimless manner, and with a vacant grin on his face like the veriest bumpkin, strolled up to the hangar where all these hasty preparations were going forward. the man on the door, who gave all the evidence of merely loafing there, but who in reality was an eagle-eyed "look-out," saw the apparent backwoodsman approaching and returned his grin with a scowl. "howdy?" the disguised secret service man saluted, evidencing an intent to enter into conversation. "same to you; what d'you want?" the man on the door returned sharply. "nothin', less you got a spare chaw on ye," the other replied. "don't chew," came the surly reply. "smoke?" the agent, entirely ignoring the other's tone and manner, produced and offered a pouch of tobacco. the man on the door was by this time approaching a rage. also the other man by this time had gained a position from which he could see almost the entire interior of the hangar. it was as he suspected, although he gave no evidence of even understanding what was going on within. they were preparing for the flight! "look here," said the irate look-out testily, rejecting the proffered pouch, "i like my own tobacco best, same as i like my own company best." "h'm," exclaimed the secret service man, vacantly, as though trying to interpret the significance of this subtle sarcasm. "wall," he opined finally, "thar's all sorts o' tobacco, same's thar's all sorts o' comp'ny, an' thar's no accountin' fer the queer tastes some people has." he strolled on, leaving the look-out fuming. in ten minutes he was back giving his colleague a good laugh at what had taken place. however, they had little time for the amusing side of their experiences, for theirs was a serious work--as serious in its way as was that of our four friends in another, and the efforts of all were directed toward getting those secret and highly important documents to the peace conference without molestation and before there was an open rupture there. and all this while the crew entrusted with this important work was cutting across the atlantic, putting mile after mile between the -horsepower dual-motor hydroplane and the shores of america. a hasty conference brought the two secret service men to the conclusion that no time should be wasted in reporting to headquarters just what the situation was. so at different times, and taking different routes, they strolled toward the center of town, where one of them entered the telegraph office and sent off, to a certain henry billings, on "f" street, washington, d. c., this apparently commonplace message: "lumber all shipped; expect to leave here tonight." to billings, otherwise the head of the secret service, who now was in constant touch with members of the cabinet, it carried a more pertinent import, for it told him that the plane which they already had learned might be used to pursue the transatlantic messengers had been made completely ready and probably would put out that evening the cabinet was hastily called together in special meeting, and the summons also brought general bronson, head of the air service. but after all, what was there to be said? the die had been cast, so to speak, and the lads now were far out over the ocean, with no alternative but to continue the race at top speed to prevent a meeting with the enemy plane, which doubtless would attack with any weapon and under any circumstance advantageous to itself. "there is nothing to do but to try at once to get in touch with them by wireless," announced general bronson. "they are not fools, and although nothing was said to them on this phase of the subject, they probably realized that they were not given a machine gun to mount, with plenty of rounds of ammunition, for nothing." "wireless them, then," ordered the secretary of war briefly. "give them an outline of the exact situation." long ago the men in the giant plane out over the ocean had sailed eastward into the night. darkness was settling about the national capital, the streets were crowded with homeward-bound throngs of shop and business people, as general bronson jumped into a waiting taxicab, and, with an abrupt order to the uniformed man at the wheel, was shot through the city and beyond its limits, toward the great government wireless station, in violation of every traffic regulation that ever had been laid down for the district of columbia. "r-s- ," he fairly shouted at the operator before he was fully into the radio room. "r-s- , quick." the operator, realizing whom this call was for and that something really urgent must be in the wind to so disturb the usually imperturbable general bronson, threw on his switch and began sending out through the ether successive repetitions of the aeroplane's code call, "r-s- "--"r-s- "--"r-s- "--"r-s- ." for twenty minutes this was kept up, while the perspiration stood out upon the brow of the man who had declared upon his reputation that these four, of all the men in the air service, were the most competent for the fulfilling of the delicate and dangerous task which had been imposed upon them. he paced the floor back and forth, stopping now and then by the operator, but saying nothing. presently the radio man ceased tapping with the key which with every contact seemed to release a streak of blue lightning from the delicately tuned apparatus above their heads. he was listening intently. something had taken his entire attention. "have you got them?" general bronson finally demanded, unable longer to control his impatience. "somebody's picked us up, and they're trying to say something, but i can't catch it," the operator at length answered, still straining to hear the faintest and almost indistinguishable tap-taps which at intervals came to his trained ear. he arose abruptly and strode across the room. there he pulled a lever, turned a switch, and then resumed his seat, hastily clapping on the earpieces again. his features began to relax. he reached for the sending key, then apparently changed his mind and grasped a pencil and pad of paper. but before he could begin to write his countenance fell, and he turned wearily toward the anxiously waiting general. "had them then, i'm sure," he said, "but lost them the next second." "it's their speed," the general asserted quickly. "probably they can get you all right, because you're sending with more power. tell them to slow down and repeat their message." the operator followed these instructions, and a few seconds later looked up smiling. straining to catch every click recorded in his ear, he wrote: "fully understand--ready for emergency--constant watch and full speed--bentner." "ask them their position now," the general snapped out. [illustration: "ask them their position now!" the general snapped out.] the radio operator began sending again, but there was no response, and repeated efforts were unsuccessful. "they're probably pounding out for europe at the best speed that the craft will develop now," the operator finally announced. "and if they are, their spark plugs will sufficiently divert the radio to prevent their message carrying this far." the general eyed him for an instant in amazement, started to say something and then apparently changed his mind. he turned to go. "if you hear from them again, 'phone me instantly," he said. "i'll be at my office throughout the night." "yes, sir," the operator responded respectfully, and resumed his position at the radio. chapter xi in the teeth of a hurricane even with the present practicability of the aeroplane, equipped with every known invention and device for expediting and safeguarding flights, a transatlantic air voyage is something not to be regarded lightly, nor indeed to be undertaken at all, except by the hardiest and most courageous of men, endowed with a supreme fatalism and an all-enduring self-confidence. with the fall of darkness, just as had been expected and reported by the secret service operatives who were watching the rapidly-unfolding developments there, the enemy plane, equally as well equipped and perhaps as powerful as the other, had put off in pursuit only a few minutes after the wireless went out from washington in warning of that expected eventuality. and quickly following the enemy departure had gone another radio, informing the leading plane of that fact. the message had been received, and indeed a reply had been sent; but it had dissipated itself in the air and had never reached the delicately-tuned instrument at which an operator sat breathless, seeking to catch the faintest sound wave. why had not the pursuing plane been stopped? the answer was clear. it was on canadian soil. to have even attempted to intercept her would have entailed an almost endless and detailed explanation to the canadian authorities, and this in turn would have required a full revelation of the lengths to which the american government was going to maintain world stability of peace. even in the interim the plane probably would have departed, but at any rate all these considerations had been weighed hastily but carefully in washington and the final decision was to leave everything to the lads in the leading plane, depending upon their skill as aviators, their courage as fighters, if events reached that stage, their ingenuity as americans to accomplish successfully their given task and get the documents to paris. what, then, of the four young men who, compelled to contend with all the natural and inevitable and manifold difficulties of such an endeavor, by this time found themselves required to watch for an enemy from behind, while facing from the front what threatened to become a terrific storm, driving on toward them even as they drove into it? although don harlan, alert every second of the time, and aided by fred bentner, who now could do nothing unless they picked up the radio of some ship, had carefully charted every mile of their course thus far, and knew, according to the compass, that they were still headed right, some strange intuition told him that the rising wind was blowing them further off their course than they realized, and in a direction where they might expect even worse and continued bad weather. a delicately balanced level told him that for hours they had maintained an almost undeviatingly horizontal position, and therefore a sustained altitude, and yet the approaching storm was further heralded by a steadily falling barometer. with the receipt of the wireless warning they had opened the throttles of the motors wide, and their air speed was now one hundred and twenty-five miles an hour, but there were doubts as to whether they were making headway of more than half that speed, with the wind increasing in velocity momentarily, and the plane beginning to rock and sway under the impact of these opposed forces. "we won't try to ride this," big jack announced heavily, as a veritable gale struck them with such suddenness as to swerve them considerably off their course. "altitude is what we want. we'll get above it." alas for sailors sailing new and uncharted seas, and aviators encountering previously unknown wind channels and air currents! this storm came upon them so suddenly, broke upon them with such fury, beat them seemingly from all sides at once with such unprecedented force, that the very effort to tilt the rudder threatened to carry that and the whole after part of the plane away, bringing upon them disaster and destruction. andy, with feet and hands taut, turned a pale face toward big jack. the seriousness of the situation was equally reflected there, although the young giant's chin stuck out in a way that augured no admission of any but the most overwhelming defeat. again they tried to mount the storm to get to a height where they would be out of the reach of its worst elements, but a second time the effort was unsuccessful. the wind was coming in waves which threatened to tear the tremendous wings entirely away from the fusilage of the plane. beneath them the ocean was being lashed into a fury of giant combers which, as they could see them, most resembled the constant opening and shutting of the great maw of some beast of prey, patiently, expectantly, awaiting their destruction. the big-cylindered motors still were smashing out all the power they had in them and the propellers were lashing the air with seemingly uninterrupted force; the air-speed indicator still stood at one hundred and twenty-five miles an hour, and petrol was being consumed at an alarming rate; yet the lads all felt now that they were doing nothing more than holding their own--virtually remaining stationary over one spot which at any instant now might become their unmarked and unknown grave. any schoolboy is familiar with the principle that if two locomotives meet in a head-on collision, each traveling at a speed of, say, sixty miles an hour, the impact is the same as though one locomotive, going miles an hour, had collided with one standing still. if their guess was correct, therefore, that they were merely maintaining a stationary position, it was clear that up to this time the plane was combatting a pressure equivalent to two hundred and fifty miles' speed per hour. no plane long could endure such a tremendous test. "i've heard the expression 'a tough night for the sailors,'" andy shouted across to big jack, for it was difficult now for them to make themselves heard above the pounding of the engines, the scream of the storm and the beating of the propellers, even within the enclosed nacelle. "but," andy continued, "i'm willing to agree right now that this is a rougher night on aviators." "yes," jack shouted back, "and we're going to adopt seamen's tactics. we can't seem to get above this storm, and there's only one other thing to do. if we can bank and turn without spilling over completely we'll ride it out, even if it carries us back to halifax." each man realized that upon the deftness with which they acted when the opportune moment came, their lives depended. "ready!" shouted jack, who had been counting the alternate periods with which the heavier blasts had struck them, and felt the exact second approaching when the difficult maneuver might be attempted with least hazard. "right!" came the triple chorus in turn. "ready for a right bank!" jack called out an instant later. "over now!" each man at his appointed place, each carrying out his expected task, they worked with the perfectly adjusted rhythm of a unified machine. for what seemed several minutes they wavered at a terrific and dangerous angle. the wind tore at the wings with what seemed like maniacal fury. at any instant it seemed that they would be carried away. jack grabbed a lever and suddenly shot a double dose of petrol into the engines. they put forth their mightiest effort in just the nick of time. it was sufficient to drag them upward a dozen feet, and another gale of wind that would have completely capsized them at their previous level, as suddenly righted them now--and they were headed down the hurricane at a speed that human beings never had traveled before. they cut down their speed considerably by all but shutting the throttles and depending only upon the force of the storm; but at no time did they dare completely shut off their power, for at irregular intervals the sudden shooting on of a full speed was all that righted them when the wind unexpectedly swerved to another quarter and with no advance warning attacked them first upon the port and then upon the starboard sides. for three hours the terror of the storm continued, and then it took a northern course and began abating almost as suddenly as it had appeared. the sea, too, began to subside almost as soon as the heavy winds ceased, and as dawn approached and the clouds began to break there was little to indicate that the lads, due to the staunch durability of their plane, had ridden out one of the worst northern storms of that season. but repairs were necessary to more than one part of the plane, and it was impossible to make a safe landing where they were. the compass showed them that in the power of the hurricane they had been heading east by north. to seek a calmer sea they turned almost directly south, and at a.m., with the sun shining brightly, made a landing upon the surface of the ocean, which seemed entirely undisturbed by the cyclonic rage of the storm which had mighty nearly cost the four young men their lives. wires needed tightening, the rudder required bracing, a thorough inspection was their only safeguard against further difficulties. they descended, knowing that probably valuable hours would have to be given to the task. but the thought came to each, what would they have done had they not had pontoons for landing on the surface of the ocean? chapter xii desperate haste "well, everything being as it is--in other words, things being as they will be," shouted out fred bentner after they had landed, experiencing a reaction of joy and relief at finding himself and the others safe and uninjured after the most harrowing experience of their lives, "i wonder just where we are?" "simple as a-b-c," andy flures responded, without the ghost of a smile. "we're on the good old atlantic--nice little atlantic--somewhere between the equator and the north pole." "yeh," fred answered back. "as simple as i-d-i-o-t. where on the atlantic? is what i'd like to know. for all any of us can prove right now, we might be in the gulf of mexico. i feel as though we'd traveled further than that since midnight." "we'll know where we are in a few minutes," don promised, laying out a pad of paper, some charts and astronomical measuring instruments. "old sol will tell us." "how?" asked fred, speaking perhaps before he gave the matter a second thought. "why," don answered in surprise, at the same time glancing at his watch, "it is now . o'clock. if i know the sun's exact position with relation to halifax at . in the morning, i can pretty nearly get our position with relation to halifax by the sun's position toward us at that time." "i-d-i-o-t," laughed andy, and stepped quickly out onto one of the pontoons to begin the examination of the first of the flying wires. fred pretended not to hear the remark, and it required only a suggestion from big jack to remind them that their troubles and difficulties were by no means over; that the worst, although of a different character, might yet be ahead; that above all else now haste was necessary in getting repairs made so that they might speedily be under way again. but they found more to be done than they had at first thought, because the plane had ridden so evenly after weathering the storm. two or three twists had to be given to the turnbuckles on practically every flying, landing, drift and bracing wire on the plane, and this of itself is no simple matter if every wire is to be subjected to its proper relative tension in order that an extra stress or strain may be so distributed that it will not warp some part out of position. but the worst damage, and the one which required the longest time to thoroughly repair was to the upper right wing, where a camber rib had snapped and one jagged end pierced the "dope"-treated canvas covering. big jack, the best mechanic of the crew, took personal charge of this repair, but it required the aid of the others. the covering had first to be loosened from the tail edge, and, making this opening no larger than was absolutely necessary, the fractured camber rib sawed off between the two stringers on either side of the break. the two remaining stationary pieces of the camber--that between the leading edge and the main spar, and the other between the rear spar and the trailing edge, were left in as false ribs, but between either of these spars and the center stringer struts had to be placed and fastened, and first fashioning to proper length and size from the little extra material carried for repairs, and afterward fixing them rigidly in place, was a task to try the ability and patience of the best mechanic. this job alone required four hours of their precious time, and then the canvas had to be warped back taut and fastened again at the trailing edge, with the specially prepared glue, which took two more hours to knit the repair tight. while the glue was setting they found a crack in the canvas of the lower left wing, which, while not so difficult of repair, nevertheless required attention before they could renew the trip; and it was these and a dozen other more trivial things that detained them, though they worked with a haste born of disappointment. for don's observations had brought tragically disconcerting results. they found themselves, according to his computations, at almost the exact spot which they had passed at eight o'clock the preceding evening. they were, therefore, some sixteen hours behind schedule time, and would, for a second time, have to traverse the distance between their present point and that at which the storm had overtaken them on the preceding night. there was no use in being pessimistic about it, however, for it was nothing that could have been prevented, and they had reason to be thankful that they had escaped with their lives and without injury. "well," said andy flures finally, for andy always could be depended upon to come forward with something sane and logical, even intensely practical, when things looked gloomiest, "i don't know how you fellows feel about it, but my stomach is whispering to me that if there isn't something forthcoming in the food line pretty soon there's going to be certain and painful rebellion. my suggestion is that we take ten minutes or so before we start to feed up against any other emergencies which may arise. all in favor please say 'eats.'" "eats," agreed the other three, and they dove into their greatly diminished rations. they had expected to make the trip in not more than twenty hours, and the eating of this meal, therefore, meant that they had but slight refreshment left to tide them over the balance of the journey. "the rest of the trip's got to be made without serious incident," jack said musingly after an inspection of the petrol gauge, "or we'll be running out of fuel. that would be nice, wouldn't it?" "i've thought of that," fred replied, "and the situation may arise yet when the radio will pull us out of a tough hole." "meaning?" queried don. "that we may have to summon a vessel and, if she has any, borrow some gas," explained fred. "in a pinch, of course, it would have to be tried," jack agreed, "but if nothing extraordinary happens i think we can make ireland with what fuel we have. we wouldn't be at all sure that we could reach a vessel anyway, you know, and especially one carrying petrol." "yes, i know," fred agreed. "nevertheless i'm more satisfied that we're equipped to speak out our wants in event we have to." "well," said jack, again surveying the plane preliminary to their second start, "all's set; let's go." they climbed into the nacelle, closed it tightly, took their respective places, again gave the gas to their good old engines, again the propellers whirled and the rapid-fire explosions within the cylinders were as music to their ears. they skimmed out across the surface of the ocean for perhaps a hundred yards and then once more rose to the flight. "wonder what happened to braizewell's plane, and whether it got away or had to turn back," don speculated, as they settled down to good going again. "i hope to hector it got hit by that storm that caught us, and that it put them completely out of business for all time," said andy flures fervently. "that machine and those connected with it have been our hoodoos since we arrived at halifax. it certainly hasn't been braizewell's fault that he hasn't put the jinx on us." "yep," don answered, "but nevertheless i'll bet it was just their luck to escape that storm. you remember it took a sudden northward course, and i'm pretty certain it turned before they came up with it." "too bad, if that's true," said andy morosely. as a matter of fact, there hadn't been anything to so ruffle his nature in years as this series of incidents which had begun with his having to stand pilot henryson on his head in the mud and mire of the halifax aero field. "do you think we ought to wireless back that we were damaged and delayed by the storm?" don asked, addressing himself to all three. "they'll be wondering what happened to us long before we arrive on the other side." "wouldn't do at all," said jack quickly. "in the first place, we probably couldn't reach a shore station with the strength of our radio, and in the second we'd be more likely to give that other plane our exact location; and with the papers we're carrying i'd rather not have a scrimmage if it can be avoided." "that's right," don agreed. "i hadn't thought about the other machine following us." "listen!!" said fred sharply only a few moments later. everyone instantly ceased talking, and to make things quieter both engines were shut off and the plane was allowed to float along on her own tremendous momentum. "what is it?" asked jack, looking anxiously at fred, who remained intent, with the earpieces of the radio apparatus held close to his ears with both hands. "getting something?" jack continued, almost unconsciously, but at the same time having to give ninety per cent of his attention to steering and manipulating the plane, which was going along without power. "yes," answered fred slowly. "and it's that other plane. they're not far behind us. they're talking to an ocean liner, and asking the ship if she's sighted us." "by golly, if we weren't carrying these government documents--" jack began. "the ship is asking who we are and who they are," fred interrupted. "and what are those crooks answering?" demanded andy flures. fred held up his hand for silence. of a sudden his face took on a dark scowl. "well, the highbinders!" he suddenly exclaimed. "what now?" asked don. "they're saying," fred answered, "that we're wanted by the federal government; that we have stolen papers and are seeking to transfer them to a foreign cruiser that is to meet us somewhere in the atlantic. they say they are a government craft in pursuit." "all right," said jack, again throwing full power on the engines. "one more score to settle when the reckoning comes--and i'm thinking its going to come before we reach the other side." "the sooner the better," said the now aroused andy, at the same time crawling forward to put the first strip of ammunition into the machine gun. "yes, sir, the sooner the better; and when the time arrives, i want to work this little spitfire here," indicating the gun. they were now racing ahead at the highest speed the two motors would develop. there was scarcely a perceptible adverse wind, and their course was due east. chapter xiii the battle in the clouds for three hours they had raced along thus, and then the first trouble developed with one of the motors. it blew out a spark plug. now, while this is not a difficult repair for an expert motor mechanic, nevertheless it necessitated another costly delay, and when they again got under way with full power it was with the determination that nothing short of a catastrophe should again interfere with their passage. "as it stands now," said jack, "if we go on without interruption we're likely to hit the irish coast in the dead of night. even at that, though, i'll be solemn glad to set foot on land again." "so say we all of us; so say we all of us," andy chimed, in the words and tune of a well-known song. fifteen minutes later they sighted the first ship they had seen since leaving halifax. up to the present this hadn't seemed strange to them; as a matter of fact they hadn't been thinking of surface vessels; but now that they gave it consideration they realized it was because they had been carried off their course by the storm, or couldn't see the lights of one because their own attention was given entirely to trying to save their own craft. "looks pretty badly battered, at that," said don, opening the fusilage and gazing downward. "fred, let me have the glasses, will you?" he took the powerful glasses and for a moment gazed downward. then he began to laugh. "they're sizing us up the same way," he chuckled. "guess we do look strange to them, away out here." in another moment something happened which made them all sit up and take notice. there was a puff of smoke, a faint report, and a bullet whizzed through the air not more than fifteen yards away from them. "holy smoke!" shouted andy. "it's all clear now. that's the ship that braizewell's wireless was talking to. they take us for air pirates with stolen government papers." in another instant they shot upward at amazing speed, in a zigzag course. "haven't got the time or inclination to argue it out with them," said jack, "although if they don't keep that pop gun still we'll turn our nose down and let 'em have a volley, just by way of a return salute. they can't maneuver out of the way as we can." but by now they not only were out of range of the gun on the ship, but also almost out of sight of the vessel's crew. "ta, ta, jenny," andy waved over the side, in mock misery at parting company. "see you later where the grass is greener." at an altitude of nearly two miles they were skimming through the air at something more than a hundred miles an hour when fred again uttered an exclamation of surprise. "what now?" don demanded. "wait!" again the engines were shut down to permit fred to hear more clearly. "the other plane and the ship are talking again, but i can't make it out," he explained. "it's all garbled, and i can only get a word here and there. sounds like some sort of a code. by jingo! it is! they're evidently talking to some other ship, and one friendly to them, at that. conversation don't make sense at all." he listened intently for a few moments and then gave a grunt of disgust. "they've stopped," he said. "nothing more doing." however, this was to be fred's busy day, and only another short interval elapsed when something came to his ears that caused him to straighten up instantly to the closest attention. don, sitting near him and watching him, saw his eyes widen perceptibly, as though he was incredulous of what he heard. for several seconds he sat in the same position, not a muscle of his tense countenance changing, and then unconsciously his right hand went out toward his sending key. it rested there, however, and he sat immovable, making no effort to throw on the switch to connect the power necessary to send out a radio. "here," he said at last, clapping the earpieces onto the head of the surprised don. "you don't know the radio code, but just raise and lower your hand with the length of each sound you hear. i don't know whether i'm hearing straight or have gone looney." it was a moment before don could distinguish anything, for he was not trained to the sound of the radio; but after an interval he suddenly raised his hand, then dropped it again, raised it and dropped it, at varying intervals in time with the short and long sounds he heard, and resembling in his actions some sort of an automatic contrivance more than a human being. for he could neither understand nor interpret what he was, however, merely verifying to the astonished fred. "do you know what that is?" the latter asked of the other two, who now were as interested as the mystified don was. "what?" asked jack. before answering, fred again put the receivers over his own ears. the call still was being repeated. "our call," he informed them brusquely. "r-s- --and there's no doubt that it's being sent out by that other plane. shall i answer?" "not under any circumstance," jack commanded, for the first time really exerting his prerogative as captain of the crew. "they're saying something," interjected fred, grabbing pencil and pad and beginning to write rapidly. a moment later he laid aside the receivers and picked up the paper to read aloud. "listen to this," he said. "here's what i caught: 'r-s- . if you can catch this, reply immediately. mistake been made. return at once.'" "who signs it?" jack asked. "no signature at all; they just kept repeating that message," said fred. "well, let 'em keep on repeating it," jack snapped out. "poor idiots! they might know that scheme wouldn't work. they just want to get a line on where we are. if bronson or anybody in authority wanted to reach us it would come in our code. it shows, though, that those fellows are determined to reach us for a mix-up if they can." "yes," said don, picking up the marine glasses and gazing intently to the westward behind them, "and it looks as though they were going to come mighty near doing it, too. great scott, jack! take those glasses and look at that burst of speed." he handed the glasses to big jack, while the others also turned their gaze to where the naked eye could just discern a slowly enlarging speck over the western horizon. for a full minute jack remained with the glasses to his eyes. then he turned to look at his own air-speed indicator. "we're doing a hundred and fifteen," he announced. "we'll put her up to a hundred and twenty-five, and without the aid of a favorable wind that's about the best we can do. figuring the way they've been crawling up on us, even with us going at a hundred and fifteen, they must be doing something like a hundred and thirty-five at least." he pondered for a moment and turned another backward glance. "well," he ejaculated at last. "i guess those papers are more important than even we guessed. those fellows aren't coming through on petrol: _they're using a mixture of at least twenty-five per cent ether_!" twenty minutes elapsed and it developed into what well might have been a life-and-death race, with the pursuing plane steadily cutting down the intervening distance--steadily gaining on the one that already was plowing through the air at the rate of a hundred and twenty-seven miles an hour according to the air-speed indicator, and probably not less than a hundred and twenty miles an hour ground speed. another half hour and the pursuing machine had sufficiently reduced the distance to let go the first volley of shots from her machine gun. "ah," exclaimed jack, "prepared for action, eh? well, maybe we can give them a little surprise. i don't think they know we're armed." he started climbing, and so suddenly and at such an acute angle that the pilot of the other plane could not see the intended maneuver soon enough to parallel the course. "if it's really a fight they want, i reckon the time has arrived when we'll have to stop and give it to them," he breathed again through clenched teeth. he and andy now were working together like a pair of siamese twins. the dual motors were turning out a new specimen of power, as though by some human intelligence they, too, realized that the moment of supreme test had come. "don," jack shouted, "you'll have to work that machine gun. andy is needed here in the cock-pit." chapter xiv destruction of the enemy as don crawled forward to take his place behind the shielded shoulder of the machine gun, fred stripped himself of the wireless paraphernalia to become mechanician while jack and andy gave all their time to the engines and the maneuvering. at the same time they climbed higher, maintaining the advantage which always is with the upper plane in aerial battle. "get ready, don," jack shouted, as the big machine swerved about and banked steeply for a sudden dive at the machine below. before the crew of the latter could even guess what was going to happen, much less get into position for firing their own gun, mounted forward, don opened up with a hail of bullets which cut the lower left wing of the enemy machine in a dozen places and made her all the more difficult to maneuver or manage. a skilled pilot was in charge of her, however, and even with this damage the giant plane wheeled gracefully, circling for an advantage which jack and andy refused to give. up, up, up they went, cutting, crossing, swerving, always seeking for position. and then like a flash jack gave the order and they turned on the enemy. again don let go a fusillade that sounded like the rapid rat-a-tat of a great drum. it was another bull's eye, and one of the bullets apparently took the pilot in the right arm, for fred, looking over, saw it drop limp at his side, while he frantically grasped at levers with his left hand, and said something sharply to another member of his crew. the enemy, too, was firing his machine gun at every opportunity, but thus far the maneuvering of the american plane had been too sudden and swift to permit of anything like an aim, and the nearest shower of bullets went harmlessly by, several yards to the right. again jack gave his engines all the petrol they would take, and there was another skyward spurt at hair-raising speed. no one direction was maintained for a full minute at a time, however, and even at that the enemy finally got a head-on opportunity and sent a charge that lodged several bullets in the outer fusilage. there was an instant change of course, and a few seconds later don was given another opportunity to show what he knew about machine gun firing. he gave a most excellent accounting. the rudder of the enemy plane was almost entirely shot away! a skilful pilot may not necessarily regard that as a disaster, but already the pilot of the other machine was disabled, and the battle was raging so furiously that no opportunity offered for another of the crew to take his place. with only one able hand and arm to work with the fellow did remarkably well, but he could not handle the giant plane successfully under such a handicap. even then, and in that desperate situation, jack and his crew would have let up in mercy had not the enemy, in a long, circling dive again renewed the fire. jack nodded his head to andy, and fred, understanding the signal, got ready to do his part. they banked at a dangerous, nerve-racking angle, and then in a long, sweeping curve came down upon the already crippled machine which could not get out of the way. don loosened such a miniature artillery that two of the crew fell over either mortally wounded or killed outright. the firing never ceased, nor was the course of the plane changed until it was within fifty yards of the other machine and it seemed that a fatal collision was imminent. the final volley tore both wings of the other plane so badly that she wavered, washed in the wind for a few seconds and then, as a spurt of flame appeared where fire had started from a leaking petrol tank, she settled into a swift and disastrous nose dive. don saw what happened; the others had too much to do in righting their own plane at that instant to pay attention to anything else. jack and andy had come literally as near as a hair losing control of their own plane in making the final attack which disposed of the other. as a matter of fact, had they not been such masters of their machine, all might have gone to the fate that the others found as the reward for their treacherous undertaking. "what happened?" jack asked of don, when the machine again was under control. he had not realized that they had completely put the other machine out of business, and seemed somewhat surprised when, on looking about, he did not find it in pursuit, or dashing away on the defensive. "it's all over," don assured them. "you can take it easy now." they did. they looked over the side of their own machine and saw what remained of a crushed and broken fusilage--just bits of wood and some strips of canvas--floating on the surface of the sea. "they fell straight as an arrow, but in a tail dive, after that final attack," don said. "it was really sickening to see them fall. it must have been four thousand feet at the least." "afire?" jack asked. "yes, but completely out of business before the flames broke out," don continued. "the pilot got a bullet in the right arm early in the mix-up, and i guess two of the others never knew what happened to them. when they struck it was with a splash like that sent up by a depth bomb. as a matter of fact, i didn't think anything connected with the machine would ever come to the surface again." "guess we'd better circle down and see if by chance any one of them should be alive and in sight," jack suggested. he changed course and they began a circling downward descent. some fifty yards away from the floating débris they made a landing. the sea was comparatively calm and they experienced little difficulty in settling on its surface without jolt, splash or damage. for several moments they lay there, looking intently at what remained of that which once had been braizewell's powerful twin-motor biplane. there was not a sign of human life, not an evidence of anything indicating it. "don," said jack, "for the purposes of a full report on this incident you had better note as exactly as possible the time and place where it occurred." "yes," don responded, "i had thought of that, and i've already got my reckonings. it's merely a matter of recording them, which i'll do at once." "too bad for them," jack said, with genuine sorrow in his voice. "but it was they or we. there was nothing else to it. they forced the issue and we had no alternative. i wonder who they were." "i saw them all, at one time or another during the firing," don then informed his companions. "but there was only one i thought i might have seen somewhere before. but when it was, or where, i'm at a loss to tell. as a matter of fact, i'm not at all certain that i ever saw him. but somehow his face seemed familiar." "well, we'd better be on our way," said jack. "no use in staying around here. those fellows probably went down so far that, even if they're not entangled in the wreckage, it's doubtful whether they ever would come up again." "i've got it!" ejaculated don abruptly. "keep it then," advised andy, good-naturedly, despite the latest excitement they had been through. "i've got it! that's it, surely," don repeated again, gazing out abstractedly, as one will when absorbed in some recollection. "got what?" demanded fred, impatiently. "better get rid of it if you have, don't you think?" "eh?" don looked at him blankly. "oh, yes. say! do you know who that fellow was that i thought i recognized in that plane?" "no, who?" asked jack, keenly interested. "remember the day i came limping back with a badly crippled plane, after having been over the german lines, and was just able to make a descent within our own?" "sure!" they exclaimed, all at once. "that was the fellow i had the battle with. i'm sure of it. i knew i'd seen him before, and that's when it was." "well, he's probably battling with davy jones now," said andy soothingly. "you've had your revenge, and he'll never fight another air duel on this earth." chapter xv fuel from a tanker "fred," said jack, several hours later, when the afternoon was waning, "i think you'll have to get busy." "meaning what?" asked fred. apparently they were going along at top speed and without cause for further concern. nevertheless there was a worried look on jack's face, and this was something unusual. "busy with your own suggestion of some time back," jack responded. andy, who had been listening to this conversation, let his eye wander to the instrument board, and he gave vent to a low whistle. "right!" he said. "don't get you yet," fred repeated, bewildered. "we're going to run out of fuel before we reach the other side," jack announced. "you'd better open up with the radio and see if we can reach a vessel that will replenish our supply." "how do we stand?" asked don anxiously. "oh, we've got enough for the immediate present, but not sufficient to carry us all the way," jack answered, and andy nodded his head in affirmation of the statement. fred, who had not put on the headpiece of the wireless since the battle with the other plane, now adjusted the earpieces, pushed forward the switch, and opened up with that call which almost unfailingly will bring a response from any other radio within receiving distance of the message--s o s. time and again he repeated it, but without getting an indication of a response. "don," said jack at last, "you've got the charts there. how do we stand with regard to the regular steamer route?" "we're miles off it just now," the navigator responded. "too far to the north." "suppose we changed our course?" "well, if you'd point her west by south for half an hour or so i think we'd at least come within radio distance of something," don said, after a moment of thought. "that's what we'll do then," the chief pilot announced, and immediately fitted the action to the word. in this altered course they continued for more than a quarter of an hour, with fred still sounding out the distress call of the international code. "hear anything?" jack finally queried, eyeing the petrol indicator. "nary a sound." don consulted his charts and reckonings again and advised two points further south. jack immediately brought the plane around to that suggested course, and in ten more minutes the mathematics and judgment of don harlan were vindicated. fred's face suddenly beamed, and unconsciously he slapped his knee. "got anybody?" andy asked. "yep, getting a reply." for a few moments all remained silent, unable to do more than watch fred as he alternately listened and then tapped off mysterious dots and dashes on the radio. finally he relieved the tension. he removed the earpieces for a moment to address himself to don. "what's t-k-r?" he asked. "why, tanker," don answered immediately. fred cast his eye at the chart, stepped over to regard it more carefully, then turned his gaze to a penciled memorandum he had made. without another word he again adjusted the earpieces, took hold of the sending key and began a veritable chatter with the mysterious and unseen tanker which he had picked up somewhere on the wide expanse of the atlantic. "righto!" he ejaculated finally, aloud, again removing the apparatus. "jack," he said, addressing himself to that rather worried individual, "i wasn't such a bad guesser this morning, after all, was i? well, i've landed the tanker, all right, and according to don's reckonings and her information our paths cross." "great!" "but she can't spare much petrol." "well, you--" andy got no further. "probably fifty gallons," fred finished. jack did some quick mental calculating. "fifty's better than none, and probably will carry us through," he finally announced. "at any rate, we'll be thankful for whatever she can spare us. did you tell her we're in an aeroplane?" "yes," fred answered, chuckling. "that's what all the conversation was about. the operator evidently had the captain alongside of him, and he must be a good sportsman himself. thought it was the real transatlantic contest, and of course i didn't disillusion them. but i had a hard time at first making them believe that we were in a plane. the operator bluntly told me to quit my kidding. wanted to know what i meant by making a josh out of the s o s." "when ought we to come across them?" was jack's next inquiry. for a moment fred and don figured together, then examined the compass and drew several lines upon the chart. "keep your present course," don finally said, "and at our speed, with the tanker fifty miles away when fred first got her, and she headed this way, we ought to sight each other in the next twenty minutes." again he was right. hardly that time had elapsed when fred, with the powerful marine glasses as an aid, shouted out that he could discern a streak of smoke. don took the glasses, and before he brought them down from his eyes the two-miles-a-minute speed of the plane had brought the vessel into sight. "gosh!" jack breathed, with a long-drawn sigh. "she's the most welcome thing i've seen in a month of sundays." from an altitude of six thousand feet they began a slow descent, but without a decrease of speed. with the aid of the glasses don could now discern some one, doubtless the captain of the tanker, on the bridge, gazing toward them intently. the distance between them had now been reduced to not more than three miles, and the throttles were closed and all power shut off for the long downward glide which would bring them close to the vessel. so straight was their course that as they neared they caused a small panic on the tanker. captain and crew suddenly came to the disconcerting conviction that the plane had gotten beyond control and was going to crash upon them. there was a great scurrying about, and, unexpected by jack and andy, the ship suddenly veered in her course, almost bringing about that which her captain was trying to avoid. as a result, jack had to put the rudder down hard, throw on the power, and take an upward course which would clear them of the zigzagging steamer. in a wide circle the plane then was brought to the surface, so close to the ship that the respective officers and crews could converse without the use of megaphones. [illustration: in a wide circle the plane was brought to the surface.] "who are you?" the captain of the tanker demanded, when he had recovered from mixed feelings of fear and admiration, brought on first by the narrow escape from a collision, and then by the expert surface landing which the hydro-aeroplane made. "americans entrants in the transatlantic," jack responded instantly. "guess we're in the lead. haven't sighted any of the others, have you?" "i should say not," the captain replied, "and i wouldn't have believed my eyes if i had seen one headed this way, if it hadn't been we got your wireless first. say! you fellows have got some nerve, all right. any accidents?" "oh, had to stop a couple of times for minor repairs," jack answered modestly. "and we got into the teeth of a hurricane that drove us back two or three hundred miles. that's the reason we're short of fuel. can you spare any?" "what are you using?" "petrol." "h'm! well, we've got some pretty good class gas aboard, but we'll need most of it ourselves. your trip is most over, and you might say ours has hardly begun." "pay you well for it," jack suggested. "say," the captain came back at him instantly. "you can't pay me a cent. i can spare you about fifty gallons, as i said in the wireless, and that's all i can cut out of my own supply. if that will help, you're welcome to it." "it certainly will help, but it won't get us to ireland," jack responded evenly. "well, what in the deuce are you going to do?" "that's just the problem," big jack answered, "and it's a tough one, too." "oh, dam it all, i'll give you a hundred and depend on making port on what i've got left," the captain of the tanker finally announced. "how are you going to load it?" "got a pump and hose?" "sure." "then we'll pull up right alongside and take it into the tank that way." jack started the propellers whirling slowly, just enough to carry the plane around and toward the side of the tanker. the captain watched this work with open-mouthed admiration. "say!" he ejaculated, at the same time squirting forth a great stream of tobacco juice. "ever been a sailor?" "no, never have," jack had to admit. "well, you handle that job as if you had," the captain informed him. "first rate job, that." "thanks," jack returned, at the same time grabbing at the end of hose that was tossed over to him. "and let me say this, sir," he added, as he fitted the rubber pipe line into the petrol tank, "if there's ever any way any of us can serve you, just you call on us, and don't be modest about it." he took a note book from his pocket, wrote down their four names and the general address at which they could be reached, and, rolling it into a ball, tossed it aboard the vessel. "there's our visiting card," he said. in the ten minutes it required to take aboard the hundred gallons of sorely needed additional fuel, the captain of the tanker proved himself all that fred had predicted of him. and as they waved their final farewells and the plane took to the air, all felt a pang of genuine regret that the circumstances made it necessary for them to withhold the essential facts as to their actual mission. chapter xvi a matter of hours the darkness of night was again upon them, for although they had now been gone from halifax a matter of some twenty-seven or eight hours, the reader will keep in mind that they were, so to speak, traveling ever eastward, and therefore toward constantly changing time conditions. it was well into this second night, when they were rather feeling their way, and at materially reduced speed, and their calculations put them at between four and five hundred miles off the irish coast, when all of them, now desperately feeling the need of sleep, were aroused by fred's announcement that they were again receiving a call, this time no doubt genuine. "it is being relayed by some vessel," he said, "and is in our code." he picked up the ever-ready pad and pencil and listened intently. finally he began to write. three words were jotted down, when he reached for the switch and took the sending key, interrupting the operator on the vessel. there was a lengthy sending and receiving back and forth, and then fred began writing again. he added two more words and there was another interruption. "somebody breaking in," he informed don, who was leaning eagerly over his shoulder, the code book already in his hand, the first steps taken toward translating the message. but before don could get further with that interesting work a word from jack put him back to the duties of navigator, and he had to give detailed information concerning wind retardment, speed, course, etc. fred by now was receiving again, and apparently had succeeded in silencing whoever it was who had been interrupting with impertinent queries about the apparently bad grammar of the message. don again took up his position behind fred, the code book handy. the first word on fred's sheet was "how." this don knew from memory was the code word for "give," so he jotted that down. the next was "paper." he looked this up and added "location." fred had now concluded talking with the relaying vessel and was able to aid him by reading from his own memo. "invent," he called out. the code book revealed the translation as "situation." next came "burst," and both smiled at the very logical reason that an outsider had for inquiring what it was all about. don found it in the "b's" and wrote down "critical." no doubt about the authenticity of the message now: "give location--situation critical--" "ship," fred gave the next word. twice don missed the right page in his nervous thumbing of the book, but finally he got it, and found opposite, "when." the next word was "settled"; and here again in the strange code was a combination to make a seafaring man think something serious had happened. in the code, however, it stood for "will." and the next word, "bring," was found to mean "you." "last one," said fred, encouragingly, "'bounty.'" at last don found it and wrote it down--"arrive." here, then, was the message complete: "r-s- : give location--situation critical--when will you arrive?" it was read off to jack and andy. the former turned it over in his mind for a moment. "who signed it?" he asked--the inevitable query. "p.s.q.j." answered fred, reserving his greatest surprise for the last. there was a sudden lifting of brows, the men gazing about at each other and for the moment even forgetting the course of their flight. the message was a direct inquiry on behalf of the president of the united states, then attending the peace conference! "what about it, don?" jack asked. "well," the navigator replied, making mental calculations and regarding his charts, "we ought to make ireland in six hours." "send that, then," jack told fred, "and ask if there are any instructions. but send it in code," he added. fred jotted down, "ireland probably in six hours," laboriously found the code equivalent of each word and wrote it over the top, and then opened up his call again. the vessel operator soon responded and wanted to know if he couldn't be let in on the secret. "picked this up and relayed it," he radiographed, "but where's it come from, and who are you?" "let you know later, and obliged for your trouble," fred wirelessed back. "tell me who you are and you'll get suitable reward." with lightning-like speed the distant operator gave his name, ship and home port. "right," fred flashed back. "now please relay this." and he gave the code reply and had it repeated to make certain there was no error in the taking of the odd mixture of words. "new code on me," the taking operator finally commented, when his repeat had been approved as correct. "whose is it?" "your uncle samuel's," fred radioed back, and opened his switch against further inquiries. "well, i guess the situation's clear enough," he said, getting up to stretch himself as best he could in their small quarters. try as he would, he could not repress a yawn. "if the president of the united states goes to those lengths to try to learn when we will get on european soil, i guess it's a mighty important mission we've been called on to handle," andy opined. "yes," added jack, "and from what i can make of that message, it's becoming a question of hours as to how the situation will turn." "that seems to state it," don agreed. "a matter of hours." "well, we've done our best, and against mighty unpleasant obstacles, but of course they won't figure very largely if, after all, we're too late." "we're heading for ireland about as fast as anything ever did," jack informed them, and it required but a glance at the air-speed indicator to prove this. for there was scarcely a perceptible adverse wind, as these experienced aviators could discern by opening up part of the enclosed nacelle, and the indicator registered just a fraction above one hundred and twenty-two miles an hour. "coming, mr. president," andy muttered. "coming, sir, like greased lightning." chapter xvii the ten-mile glide if don harlan was in all normal times, and under all natural conditions, a most excellent and trustworthy aerial navigator, as in fact all the other members of this crew knew from experience that he was, so also was he human, and, therefore, subject to human errors. certainly in the present situation this was not to be unexpected, for he and the others not only had undergone a most extraordinary series of the most harrowing experiences, in rapid-fire succession, but in addition they were nerve-tired and physically fagged for the want of sleep. they did not reach or even sight ireland within the predicted six hours, but long before that time they did something which, in view of subsequent events and the demands they put upon the men for every ounce of their courage and ingenuity, proved to be a most excellent thing. it was jack's suggestion--or rather, his orders. "fred and don," he had said, immediately after the sending of the wireless, to be relayed to the president, "it's plain sailing now and we won't need either one of you. both of you curl up somewhere out of the way and take three hours sleep. at the end of that time we'll call you, you two can take charge for the next three hours while andy and i snooze, and we'll all feel better and more capable for the rest." none knew at that time how valuable that recuperation, brief as it was, would prove to be. under the circumstances and the program which called for an equal division between the four of them of the rest period, it hadn't taken fred and don more than two minutes to follow the advice. for three hours they lay like logs, stretched out side by side on the floor of the nacelle, snoring so lustily as to seem to be in competition with the steady throbbing of the engines. true to promise, at the end of that time jack awakened them, and, when they had recovered their dulled wits, they took charge while jack and andy almost instantly dropped into a heavy sleep. another three hours and they were brought back to life, but still there was no sight of land. jack got out the binoculars, as soon as he had gotten the "sand" out of his eyes, for what he termed a "squint" before again taking his place in the pilot's seat. just as, hours before, their forward rush had brought the night to them, so now their speed was irresistibly drawing the dawn toward them. jack held the glasses to his eyes for a moment, then rubbed his eyes vigorously and looked again. of a sudden he gave a great whoop, and slapped don on the back with a force that nearly sent him off his feet. "land, gol darn you," jack shouted for the benefit of all. "land ahoy, as they say aboard ship!" "what's that?" demanded andy, regarding it as news too good to be true. "let me have a peep through those binoculars. you may be seeing things." "i am," jack admitted joyously, handing over the glasses. "i'm seeing ireland, or my name's not jack carew." "sure as you live," agreed andy, beaming on the others. "well, none too soon," don interrupted, turning a serious face upon them. "i didn't want to hurry you fellows out of your sleep, seeing that you gave us three hours, but i want to tell you that even now we're pretty nearly up against it. look at that!" he pointed at the petrol gauge. it registered only enough, at their average rate of consumption, to carry them two-thirds of the estimated distance to where the welcome shores of ireland hove dimly into sight in the distance. "climb out!" jack ordered peremptorily. "you too," indicating fred. he climbed into his own seat, and motioned andy into the other. without another word they began a long climb, the pounding of the engines indicating the extra pressure they were called upon to meet, the tilt of the plane indicating a sustained angle that was taking them onward but up, up, up. don stood directly behind big jack, his eye fastened upon the altimeter on the instrument board. slowly, surely, unwaveringly, it was being pushed around the dial. it registered eight thousand feet, nine, ten, eleven, twelve. he turned a questioning glance at fred, who was likewise engaged, but not a word was spoken. their glance turned to the petrol gauge, which big jack and andy were watching as closely as they were the indications of their steadily increasing altitude. it showed an equally steady depletion as the engines literally ate up the now almost priceless fuel. don, his attention now turned to this instrument, saw it going down, down, down, even as the plane continued on its upward climb. even yet the real significance of jack's intention had not fully dawned upon him. the fuel was by now dangerously low. once don thought he heard one of the engines "skip," and his heart skipped a beat in consequence. he looked again at the altimeter. fifteen thousand feet! and still the plane was climbing, its angle unaltered. he grabbed the binoculars and gazed out toward the coast, now scarcely any nearer the plane by actual distance, but much nearer from a plumb line which might have been dropped from the plane. he estimated that they were as yet about fifteen miles out to sea. and still the machine climbed. he turned again to the altimeter, fascinated by this great contest between the wits of man and the natural elements. eighteen thousand feet, and the needle, still continuing its circle of the dial, registered nineteen thousand before he could tear his glance away. bang! sput, sput! bang! one of the engines was missing audibly. the petrol indicator now registered almost nothing. the altimeter needle was just flirting with the point marking twenty thousand feet. jack for the first time took his eyes from a straightaway upward course and gazed about him--principally outward and downward toward the irish coast. the petrol gauge registered nothing noticeable and both engines were firing now at interrupted intervals only, and the propellers were spinning in jerky uneven response to the queer spurts of power shot to them from the well-nigh exhausted engines. jack grabbed the petrol pump, and with a few sudden lusty jerks sent the remaining dregs of fuel into the engines. they responded nobly with what little ammunition they got, and with this power the plane gave a loop, like a scenic railway car taking a hump, and what had been the upward angle was reversed. the ingenious purpose was now apparent. the throttles were closed because there was no longer any use in keeping them open. jack was trying the only course that had been left open to them. he had mounted to the greatest possible height with what little fuel they had left, while still continuing their eastward direction. they were now on a great ten-mile downward glide which was their only hope of reaching somewhere near the coast line. how successful they were in this depended now upon the skill with which the captain-pilot used the plane's momentum. although with no propelling power whatever, they rapidly gathered a terrific speed. when this had reached a point where it threatened to tear the wings or rudder loose, jack lifted her to an almost horizontal course, and the plane sailed along for more than a mile before it became necessary to again turn her nose down to gather increased momentum. when this was had the same process was repeated. how good a pilot jack was, this situation would develop. they had come perhaps five miles nearer the shore line now, and they were still some twelve or thirteen thousand feet in the air. a swift glance at the altimeter and barometer assuring him of this fact, and jack permitted himself a smile which gave heart and renewed courage to each of the other three. "we'll make it easy if nothing gives way," he said. again they were gathering a speed even more terrible than that which had marked the first stage of their descent. when the plane was "brought to" again, it sailed landward for nearly two miles. they were now only eight thousand feet up, and the distance to shore was probably three or three and a half miles. jack decided to give them a little sensation. he pointed the nose of the craft directly at where the waves broke into little rollers on the shore, and let her go. don, sticking his head out of a window of the nacelle for an instant, thought that the top of his anatomy had been lifted off. involuntarily he put his hand up to see if his scalp was still there. down, down, down they rushed, and still no alteration in their course. they were about a thousand yards from the shore line, and approximately the same distance above the water, when jack altered course, came to an almost horizontal position, executed a long arc and then, with the decreased speed, gradually dropped and at the same time swerved gently shoreward. three minutes later, and without a propeller turning, without any aid whatever toward bringing them to a stop or impelling them forward, they came to the surface and to a standstill in a shoal-protected section of comparatively still water, two hundred feet from shore. "greatest piece of work i ever saw," exclaimed don enthusiastically, grasping jack's hand. "the principal thing is that we did it, and here we are on european soil," said jack, as, having already sounded the depth with a rope and sinker, and finding it less than three feet, he stepped overboard to wade ashore. the others followed. from the solid ground of ireland they looked back on the brave craft which had brought them there. a murmur of thanksgiving welled from each heart. "we'll get a caretaker, and then be off on the last leg of our journey," jack announced, as they trudged off up the incline toward where they believed they would find friendly welcome and perhaps a hot breakfast. chapter xviii a runaway plane the four lads had not progressed more than a couple of hundred yards, however, when suddenly and without warning, apparently out of nowhere, there developed one of those sporadic but furious wind storms which in reality are miniature hurricanes, though seldom doing any real damage. it started with what seemed to be but a slight puff of wind, which went zephyring merrily on its innocent way. but this was only the forerunner, the vanguard, so to speak, of something more substantial to follow--as the four young men speedily learned. over the crest of the hill ahead of them appeared what at first seemed to be nothing more than a heavy mist. as a matter of fact, for several seconds it failed to attract any attention. then big jack, regarding it rather curiously, called the attention of the others to it. it was approaching with increasing speed, and as it came nearer it was apparent that it was a vast twisting, swirling cloud of dust and dirt that was being carried along in the teeth of a strong wind. it seemed to be gathering momentum every foot of the way. when it was within a few feet of them the lads followed a natural instinct and bent their heads to avoid the full blast of the pelting sand and dirt. it enveloped them like a typical desert storm and lasted longer than any of them had expected it would. even when it was over they were not able to immediately resume their way. big jack and don were for the moment out of commission, both having been temporarily blinded by the particles of dirt that got into their eyes; while fred was making frantic efforts toward what seemed an attempt to stand on his head, though in reality he was trying to shake out of his shirt a great quantity of sand that had sifted down there. andy was running around in circles, vainly peering into the air in search of his hat. in a wild lurch for it, just as it took another upward swerve, he collided with fred, sending that youth sprawling face downward over the ground. jack and don both recovered their vision just in time to witness this unscheduled event, and to see andy's hat come down fifty feet up the hill--another freak of such a storm--instead of somewhere down near the sea, where it might have been expected to land. "i don't see anything funny in that," fred complained, as he and the other two came up to where andy, having recovered his top-piece, was awaiting them. "in what?" andy asked, seeing that fred was addressing him. "why, in kicking a fellow when he's not looking--the way you just did to me." "i didn't kick you, old acrobat," andy explained good-naturedly. "you just got in the way, and believe me, i was going so i couldn't stop." "humph! better look where you're headin' next time," fred warned. "well, so near as i could make out, you were headin' toward china," andy answered soothingly. "what was it you were looking for?" but before fred could make an answer it became apparent that they were in for another siege like the first. another gust of wind, equally sand-laden, appeared over the brow of the hill. this time the four lads turned their backs to the approaching gale. as they did so, and just before it enveloped them, they saw the first cloud pass out to sea. so, also, did something else. big jack was perhaps the first to see it, though each caught just a fleeting glimpse before the second miniature hurricane wrapped itself about them. all started as though by instinct back toward the shore. but they could not see a thing for several seconds, until the cloud of dust, traveling even faster than they were, got ahead of them and lifted upward over the water. what they saw then was disconcerting, startling. the big hydro-plane which had brought them from america to europe, and which, in their happiness and enthusiasm at having safely arrived on european soil, they had utterly forgotten to anchor, evidently thinking that like the old farm house it would "stand without hitching", was in the full teeth of the wind, headed back toward the land of its birth! the involuntary exclamation that escaped big jack as a burst of speed put him in the lead of the others, was like the cry of a savage chief, rallying his followers for the hunt. and it had just that effect upon the others. nothing else counted just now but getting back that sea-wandering plane. it was not a calculated or reasoned or thought-out proceeding, but a blind rushing after something that had gotten away--as, for instance, one will risk all sorts of dangers in unthinkingly rushing into the street and amidst traffic after a hat that has blown away. as big jack reached the edge of the water, only a few feet ahead of the other three, he did not even diminish his speed, but with a great splash waded in, followed by the others. in a few seconds all were beyond wading depth and swimming vigorously. but, excellent swimmers though all of them were, it was a risky and even foolhardy adventure at best; for they were fully clothed, and there was no telling how far the plane might be carried before the wind rose sufficiently above the surface to release it from its grip. for ten minutes they swam gallantly, and then it became apparent that the direction of the wind had swerved and was following a line almost parallel with the shore. in a scattered line, big jack now well in the lead, andy next, then, some distance behind, fred and don, close together, they continued with all their strength for another quarter of an hour. it was probably a glance shoreward, which gave him his first inkling of how far out to sea they had gone, that gave jack carew the courage to put all his remaining strength into a final spurt. he realized that he was pretty far spent himself, and the slowing up of the others indicated that the awful gruelling was having its effect on them the same way. the wind had died down and here was the chance of reaching the wayward plane. big jack never strove harder than he did then. when he was almost in reach of the hydro he heard a muffled cry behind him. it was andy, almost exhausted. he measured the distance. he saw fred and don come up with andy and grasp the exhausted swimmer, one on either side. "they'll be all right for a minute," he muttered. "but we'll all be out if we don't get the plane now." a dozen lusty strokes took him to where the big craft was now lying motionless on the water. for several seconds he hung to the side, too weak to lift himself aboard. then came another cry from where the other three were struggling in the water, thirty feet away. big jack took in the situation at a glance. andy was unable to help himself, and he was too much for the other weakened swimmers to handle. it was a desperate moment. "hey, you, andy!" jack shouted, in a peremptory, seemingly angry tone. "tread water!" andy heard and seemed to realize. the others could not waste an ounce of strength in talk, but as andy followed directions and so relieved them somewhat of his weight, they shot appreciative looks at jack. it was all up to him now. they couldn't make the plane with andy. they couldn't abandon him to drown there. "steady!" shouted jack. "i'll have the plane there in a minute." so saying he jumped off the other side, and, throwing his whole weight in the plunge, and kicking out with all his strength, started the plane in the direction of the other three. it was a long, killing task, but he did it, just as andy's head went under. don, now almost exhausted, grasped at a wing of the plane to save himself. "get on there, too!" jack shouted to fred as he dived for andy. he came up an instant later, with the half-drowned man in his grasp. fred and don were by now in the plane. jack, puffing rapidly, held andy's head above the water, while the other two caught their breath. then, with the last effort they had in them, they hauled the unconscious andy aboard, and jack struggled up after him. it was jack now who was near the end of his tether. he had done nearly twice as much work as the others, and he had for the moment used up his last ounce of tremendous strength. "lay andy across that frame," he weakly directed the other two. with great difficulty they followed his directions. but already andy was showing signs of returning consciousness. they left him where he was. there was nothing else any of them could do. they lay where they had sprawled, each gasping weakly for breath. when andy opened his eyes it was to see them thus--and the shore line almost three miles away! andy moved slightly. it is altogether likely that at that moment he hadn't the slightest idea or recollection of where he was. the movement, however, was calculated to bring a sudden and somewhat rude awakening. limp and to all appearances lifeless, andy had been "hung" across the framework with a nicety of balance which the others at the time had not realized. when he moved all was different. the equilibrium was lost, and andy, with one wild and ineffective grasp at the empty air, came down with a thump and a grunt--a very life-like grunt--into the fuselage of the plane. despite their own miseries, the others could not help but smile. andy gave a puzzled glance around, seemed to have his first realization of where he was, and, perhaps, an inkling of how he got there, and then he, too, grinned weakly. thus they lay for twenty minutes or half an hour, unable to do aught but watch the slowly receding line of shore, as parallel with it, they drifted southward. this steady drift, however, was presenting a new menace. at any time wind or current might change to send them out to sea. to permit that would be to flirt with death from starvation and thirst, for there wasn't an ounce of petrol left in the tanks. in an hour all had so far recovered as to permit a hasty counsel. they speedily reached a decision that there was but one thing to do, and that must be done at once. they must get the plane back to shore, and the only way that could be done was by one or two of them swimming, to give propulsion to the craft. it promised to be a long and difficult task, but it presented none of the dangers that attended their swimming in the open sea. it was merely a matter of pairing off, and, two at a time, dropping over the sides, and, holding to the craft, pushing outward with their feet, the same as though they were swimming. jack and don went at it first, and for half an hour they worked heroically, appreciably diminishing the distance between the craft and shore, but still leaving what seemed to be nearly two miles intervening. then they were relieved by the now recovered andy and fred. thus alternating, they kept at the task for two hours, and the sun dipped in the western waters and twilight came before they were within what they could consider a safe distance of land. it was jack and don who finished up the last lap, and, as darkness fell, brought the craft back into shallow water. but they were upon an entirely different part of the coast--a barren, rocky section, apparently without inhabitants. fortunately each had, in the locker of the plane, a change of clothes. these they brought ashore, but not a match could they find. having securely anchored the craft this time, they entered a little grove, some hundred yards or more from the shore, and there changed their clothes, hanging the wet garments on the limbs of the trees to dry. "we can't do more tonight," jack yawned, when this job was completed. "i'm nearly dead, and i guess you fellows are, too. there's no sign of a house anywhere around here, so i guess we'll have to bunk on the ground for tonight." "suits me," said andy flures, wearily. "i could sleep anywhere." with their arms for pillows they stretched out on the softest ground they could find, and before fifteen minutes had elapsed four husky but tired-out young men were snoring lustily and rapidly regaining their rest in sleep. there is a time when nature takes her toll, no matter what the worldly matters may be at stake. chapter xix the sleep-walker it was well past three o'clock in the morning, though he had no means then of knowing the time, when andy flures turned stiffly upon his hard couch of mother earth, rubbed his eyes, then his sore joints, finally recollected where he was and looked about casually at the others in the group. though they were in a thin grove of trees, the soft light of a full moon bathed the landscape with a brightness that made everything easily visible. andy sat up to limber his joints the more. as he did so he wondered how the others felt. "pretty narrow escape all of us had today," he murmured to himself; and added, "especially narrow for andy." he looked down at fred, who was close beside him. he was snoring peacefully. he glanced over at don, and he, too, seemed none the worse for the day's terrible work. his eye traveled on. he turned his head suddenly, and then peered all around with something of a panicky feeling coming over him. he uttered an unconscious exclamation, and fred moved and muttered in his sleep. andy jumped up and walked around the grove, circling over an area of thirty or forty feet. then he came back hurriedly to where don and fred lay sleeping. big jack carew was nowhere to be found, and for the first time it came to andy with a terrible shock that there were times when, thoroughly exhausted, carew became a somnambulist. he dropped to his knees beside fred and shook him mercilessly, at the same time calling don. both men awakened about the same time; neither for the moment having any knowledge of where they were; both muttering against this rude awakening. "you remember, the plane got away from us; we swam after it; we nearly drowned--all of us," andy repeated hurriedly. "remember?" "yes," don answered, sitting up and sensing somehow that something was wrong. "well, why tell us about it now?" fred complained sleepily. "it's jack i'm trying to tell you about," andy answered in a shrill whisper. "he's gone. he isn't anywhere about the grove." don was on his feet in an instant, at the same time muttering a groan as he too suddenly put his stiffened joints into action. the significance of the situation also began to sink into fred's sleepy brain, and he, too, arose, demanding to know what had awakened andy, and was he sure jack was not playing a joke on them, or perhaps had gone down to take a look at the plane. "he was too tired out for that sort of a joke," andy responded, showing his apprehension in his voice. "and as for the plane, he knew that was safe enough." "do you think he's sleep-walking again?" don asked nervously, still trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. "i'm afraid so," andy replied. "that's the reason i wakened you two." he addressed himself particularly to don: "you remember that night after the all-day struggle with the germans." "i'll not forget it soon," don answered, buttoning his coat and shuddering, although it was not cold. "what was that?" demanded fred. "what happened at that time?" "we three had to bunk up much as we did tonight," andy explained. "it was while you were on another sector. we had had a mighty tough day. along toward the middle of the night don awakened just as i did tonight, and he missed jack. he called me. we couldn't find him anywhere. we had heard about his sometimes walking in his sleep, but we'd never had any experience. a search though, proved that he must have gone that way. luckily, we picked up a police dog, and from jack's paraphernalia we gave him the scent. he led us for half an hour straight toward the german lines, and when we were almost in sight of their outposts, there was jack, tramping along, head up, but dead asleep. ugh! it was the weirdest thing i ever went through, and we had to waken him gently to avoid a nerve shock." "great scott!" ejaculated fred. "i never heard of that. you never told me a thing about it." "never thought to, i guess," don answered. "never liked to think about it, anyway." "and we haven't any police dog with us tonight," andy supplemented. "i haven't the slightest doubt but that he's wandered off from here the same way, but how we're going to get his trail is what is worrying me." each of them experiencing a creepy sort of feeling, they emerged from the grove for a survey of the landscape. not a clue did it reveal. don dropped to the ground in a vain effort to discover footprints, but the surface was so hard, and the moonlight so pale, that he found this a useless effort. "i'm not usually superstitious," fred said, finally, "but there are times when, nothing else being available, at least it doesn't do any harm to try something of that sort. i've heard it said that in such circumstances, when a thing has been lost or something like that, a feather tossed in the air will, as it comes to the ground, indicate the direction of the article sought. there is just a chance it might help here." "but we haven't any feather," andy complained helplessly. "doesn't necessarily have to be a feather," said don. "anything of the sort will do." so saying he turned out the lining of his coat, swiftly tore a piece from it, rolled it into the semblance of a ball and tossed it as high as its light weight would permit into the air. it fluttered there for a moment and then flitted lightly downward, carried this way and that as it rode the air. but one thing the eager lads grasped at as significant: although they could not discern the slightest movement of the air, the piece of flimsy goods took a distinctly northerly direction and fell at a spot at least three feet in front of where don had stood when he threw it. "we'll try it, anyway," he said, leading the way. they stalked forth without other guide than the fateful falling of the bit of silken cloth. their path led along the shore where the waves of a calm sea lapped ceaselessly in a crooning lullaby. to the lads, on their unhappy mission, it had a weird, wild, unnerving sound. they walked rapidly, close together, searching the ground for footprints, and as far ahead as they could see for any indication of the missing man. "look!" said don, with startling suddenness, as he, somewhat in the lead, came to a spot where the ground was softer. the other two dropped to their knees beside him. there was no mistaking the fresh foot-prints, nor the fact that they were of about the size of big jack carew's shoe. "the sign was right!" exclaimed andy, his voice shaky. "he has passed this way, and not long ago." they arose and hastened onward. for a considerable distance the surface was sufficiently soft to plainly show the prints and they were able to jog along at a slow run. then the ground suddenly became hard and rocky and began to rise in hilly sections. "no more foot-prints," said andy, "but the best thing we can do is to keep right on." "great guns!" exclaimed fred, almost before andy was through. he could say nothing more, but stood as though transfixed, pointing ahead and upward. there, in plain sight of all, was big jack carew, walking along the brow of a hill and headed straight toward where the jagged rocks ended over a cliff sheer over the ocean. fred cupped his hands to his mouth as though to shout. "no! no!" don warned. "don't do that!" he broke into a run and the others followed. the way was hard going, and several times they stumbled. it was a race against fate, with the unconscious jack carew steadily nearing the cliff that would mean his instant death. don fell, and the other two continued on, his voice following them, bidding them not to lose an instant. he had strained a tendon and from that time on he made painful progress. but he was in time to see andy, breathless and nearly exhausted, come up with jack when the other was not ten feet from the edge of the precipice. andy took no chances, and don could have cheered as he saw him make a flying football tackle, catching big jack just above the ankles and throwing him heavily to the ground. fred arrived at that instant and sat down heavily on the big fellow's stomach. as don came up, jack was just coming to his senses, his eyes indicating that he was not yet fully aware of where he was or of what had happened. his first question indicated this, but no one was as yet sufficiently master of himself to answer. fred merely waved a hand toward the cliff and the ocean below. big jack seemed slowly to comprehend. for an instant he buried his face in his hand. a shudder ran over his big frame. he looked again toward where the rocks fell off sheer to the water below, and then put out his hand. all three grasped it at once. there was no need of words: all understood, and most of all, big jack. silently they arose, and, walking slowly because of don's lameness, headed back toward the grove. they were half way there before anyone spoke. it was jack. "who discovered i was gone?" he asked. don answered that it was andy. big jack simply nodded, but he placed upon andy's shoulder a shaking hand which said more than words. there was something almost tragic about this rescue of a man who that very day had rescued all of them. "well," said andy, always the first to recover, "it's over. let's not think about it. here we are, almost at the grove, and by jiminy, day's breaking." and so it was. dawn was chasing the moon, and daylight was only a matter of a quarter or half an hour. they entered the grove and sat down. andy bound a handkerchief tightly about don's strained leg, and they discussed their plans for the immediate future. "well," said fred, in the midst of this, "we know there's no road or human habitation in that direction," indicating from whence they had just come. "i suggest that our next effort be over there." he pointed toward a gently rising slope to the north, and even as they looked the increasing daylight showed them that there lay what seemed to be a rough and seldom-used road. "right," said jack. "that little jaunt of mine was rather tiring: give me about fifteen or twenty minutes more and we'll see what we can discover out there." they sat about chatting for another quarter of an hour. then, jack indicating that he felt fit, they took one more survey to make sure that the plane was still riding safely where they had anchored it the night before, and made ready to explore the unpromising road, in the hope of finding fellow human beings and perhaps breakfast. for by this time they felt nearly starved. chapter xx kidnaped "what's that?" don demanded suddenly, before they had made the crest of the hill. all had heard the sound, or rather series of sounds, to which he referred; all stopped still to listen. it was the steady, powerful chug-chug of a motor, and at first they thought it was another plane. "motorboat, but a fast one," said jack, in expert diagnosis. "yes, and from the sound of it, coming this way," andy added. "we can probably see it from the brow of this hill," fred suggested, and they continued the two hundred feet or more to the point indicated. there they stopped to survey that surface of the sea which previously had been obscured. a motorboat was racing madly up the coast, toward where their hydro lay, and at sight of them one of the crew on the craft set up a loud shout and a frantic waving of his arms. two others on the boat came to his side, as she changed her course with an evident intention of drawing up close to where the plane washed idly back and forth on the calm surface of the sea. "seem to want us," said big jack, "but surely we can't be on private property." "yes, they're coming ashore all right--six of them," fred announced, watching them climb out of the powerful and speedy launch. "may want to get their bearings," jack suggested. "well, we'll stroll back and see what they want." they started back down the hill, and the six men again were obscured from their view. as the youths came past a thickly wooded spot, however, four of the men suddenly appeared, breathing heavily from having climbed the steep incline. "you the mail crew?" the one who seemed to be the leader asked. "gosh, no," andy, who was in the lead, responded. "we just got over from america." "from america!" the leader responded in apparent great surprise. he gazed from one to another of the four lads, as though expecting some further explanation, and stuck his hands into his coat pockets, standing with feet apart, seemingly aghast. "transatlantic contest?" he asked finally. "not exactly," jack answered, anxious to oblige. "business of a rather private nature." "huh," the stranger grunted, his whole attitude and demeanor instantly changing. "then i guess you're the young fellows we're looking for. stick up yer hands." and he whipped out a vicious-looking revolver, while his three companions, also with guns drawn, covered jack, don and fred. "what's the--" jack began, and looked behind them. the other two men had taken a different route, and without making a sound had crept up. they also handled revolvers menacingly. "we're the welcoming committee," the leader informed jack, in answer to his exclamation. "must say you kept us waiting some time, too. we've been hanging around here for two whole days. began to think we'd missed you." despite his complete familiarity with the english language, jack detected that the man spoke with a decided accent. a moment later he addressed one of the others in what seemed to the lads to be a corruption of german and some guttural dialect. "you were on your way up the hill," the leader suggested. "going any place in particular?" "no; only looking for some breakfast," jack answered, believing it would be best to seem conciliatory. "why the reception committee and this rather unusual welcome?" "believe you've got some papers on you we'd like to borrow for a little time?" the leader of the gang replied. "papers?" jack repeated, as though mystified. "cigarette?" "no kiddin', friend," the man replied gruffly. "you know what we mean. we won't ask you to come across now. we'll wait until we get indoors." they were by now approaching a great rambling and seemingly almost completely abandoned and dilapidated house, which stood off upon a bleak cliff where it looked as though the first stiff gale would carry it away. "that's our destination--or rather, yours," the ruffian informed them, seeing the youths gazing at the wrecked remains of the old structure. jack managed to catch the eyes of his companions for a second when their strange captors were not aware. he gave a quick wink indicative of the fact that they were to leave leadership to him. all showed that they understood. surrounded on either side and the rear by the armed men, the youths approached what they suddenly realized was to be made their prison. "wait," commanded the leader, as they reached the door. he stepped in first and took a position at the far side of the damp, dark room, and then commanded the others to enter, each under a guard. "now then," he exclaimed, "are you going to come across peacefully?" jack looked him squarely in the eye for fully half a minute, then deliberately winked, knowingly. the leader regarded him with poorly-disguised surprise, then seemed to grasp his meaning. "here," he demanded curtly, indicating the way through another door, "i want to talk to you." they passed into the other room, the revolver within a foot of jack's head. once out of sight of the others, however, and he smiled meaningly, leaning close to his captor and whispering, "upstairs," at the same time nodding toward the stairway. "what for?" the man asked, suspiciously. "i know what you want," jack responded. "i guess we can get along all right. no use letting the others in on it. maybe i can tell you something in addition, if you make it worth while." a gleam of cunning came into the man's eye. "go ahead," he acquiesced, pointing toward the stairs. then he went to the doorway again and said a few words to his fellow bandits in the same strange language he had used before. jack led the way up the rickety staircase, and, seemingly unconscious of the fact, went toward the extreme rear of the house. without obvious haste he stepped into the rearmost room, and the leader of the band followed. he was unprepared for what followed. with the speed of lightning he found his gun hand in one iron grip, while another was choking the breath out of him. powerful as he was, he found himself helpless against the almost superhuman strength of the young giant he had sought to trap. slowly, surely, with irresistible force, jack pushed him back, step by step, toward where a great bundle of old clothing and rags was piled into a corner. when he had got the fellow almost directly over this, he even more tightly gripped his throat, while at the same time keeping him in a position where he could not strike with his left hand, and then commanded, "drop that gun!" the man merely writhed in a fast weakening effort to free himself. already his face was turning gray and his eyes were bulging. "drop that gun or you never leave this room alive," jack breathed into his ear again. the fellow twitched frantically, evidently measured the determination written upon jack's face, and with what would have been a groan could he have made a really audible sound, he dropped the revolver so that it fell noiselessly upon the bundle of rags. for several seconds more jack held the other man in his killing grip, and then, just when he was about to lose consciousness, he released him, at the same time grabbing up the gun and placing it at the bandit's temple. the fellow dropped weak and limp upon the heap of débris. jack glanced about the room and could have shouted with joy. several yards of rope with which the gang undoubtedly had intended to tie their prisoners lay coiled up in an opposite corner. he procured it, keeping the man covered at every second, and then approached him. "roll over on your stomach," he commanded. the man did as he was ordered. hastily jack felt all his pockets for trace of another weapon. finding none, he commanded the man to roll over on his back, first having placed a part of the rope where his body would come. working with one hand, the menacing pistol in the other, jack then, with a few quick twists and knots, tied the fellow fast. "now call one of the others," he commanded of the bandit leader, dragging him to where he would not be visible to anyone approaching the door. "call one, and only one; if two come i'll kill you instantly." the man maintained a stubborn silence. jack pushed the gun against his forehead. the man winced and drew back. the pressure of the gun was increased. abruptly the fellow called out for one of his companions to step upstairs for a moment. "give the slightest warning and you're done," jack threatened. as the second man could be heard coming down the hallway, jack took a position along the wall, close to the door. just as the fellow appeared the powerful fist of the young giant shot out with sledge-hammer force, catching the unprepared victim directly on the point of the jaw. he went down without a sound, and before he regained consciousness he was bound, gagged and thrown helpless into a dark corner. three times was this repeated, and then jack, forcing a gag into the leader's mouth, so that no one could utter a cry of warning to the single bandit remaining on guard below, tiptoed downstairs and had that fellow covered with his gun before the man was aware of his presence. he made as though to shoot, but jack was too quick for him. he fired before the bandit could get his arm raised, and the bullet caught him directly through the wrist. "quick!" jack ordered, snatching up the revolver which the wounded man had dropped upon the floor. "they may have confederates. we can't take a chance in wasting time around here." at break-neck speed he led the way down the hill, along the shore-line and to the anchored motorboat. as fred, who was last, jumped aboard, jack started the engine, grabbed the wheel, and in two minutes they were racing out of the little bay at thirty miles an hour, leaving a great, white-capped trough in their wake. it might have been twenty miles or so that they traveled along the shore-line, when they sighted a thriving town. "guess we can find a telegraph office here," said jack, "and maybe we can get a train for liverpool or dover." they ran the speed craft close up to one of the piers and jumped ashore. as they did so their attention was attracted by a shrill whistle. even as they located its source they saw two policemen hurrying toward them. "you're under arrest," one of them announced as they came up to the four young men. "for what?" jack demanded, impatient at what threatened to be further delay. "as spies in the employ of an enemy government," the policeman answered, his hand near to the pocket containing his gun. "you're wrong; we're americans," the big leader of the four protested. "that's a good one," the officer responded sarcastically. "come along now, and tell it to the inspector in charge." and despite their protests, and notwithstanding the fact that the fate of the world literally hung upon the passage of every minute now, they were led away to the police station and for two hours were held up there, submitting proofs and making explanations to show that they were, indeed, the special envoys of the american government, and not the bandit gang which made its quarters in the abandoned house on the cliff. chapter xxi the arrival in paris "ahem! ah--." the captain of police cleared his throat twice and turned to the four young men apologetically. "i have just received a telegram from paris," he said, referring to a sheet of paper he held in his hand. "i guess your mission is as important as you stated. i am sorry you were delayed, but you will realize that it was not done intentionally. you were in the boat, you know, that those fugitives were known to have been using." "oh, we won't quarrel over the mistake," jack assured him quickly. "what we are principally interested in now is getting to the peace conference. you can make up for the delay by expediting that, perhaps." "we already have arranged for that," the police official replied. "if you will accompany me i will show you an aeroplane which is entirely at your disposal for the balance of your journey." "ah!" jack exclaimed, pleasure lighting his face. "great!" andy supplemented quickly. in ten minutes they were climbing into a biplane, of course of nothing approaching the speed and power of that in which they had made the transatlantic flight, but nevertheless of sufficient capacity to carry them direct to versailles. three hours later, five of them being crowded upon the relatively small plane--the extra man being an englishman, acting as pilot--they flew out across the english channel and toward the shores of france. before night they were over french soil and coming nearer every minute to the little city of their objective. a wireless in advance had apprised the american delegation there of the fact of their safe arrival in england, and of their start upon the last leg of the trip. as they came above paris, and the pilot finally circled downward toward the landing field, a great throng came rushing forward, evidently having had more than an inkling of who they were and what their mission. as their machine rolled over the ground to a slow stop, a man in uniform and evidently of considerable importance thereabouts, stepped through the crowd and addressed the men in french. fred, the only one who was at all fluent in that language, responded. for several minutes they conversed, then bentner turned to his companions. "he extends to us the greetings of france," he explained, "and bids us follow him at once to where president wilson, the secretary of state, and several others of the american delegation await us." "can't we wash up a bit first?" jack asked, really alarmed at the contemplation of going into such august company greased and grimy as they were. the french officer shrugged his shoulders expressively. "it is not your appearance that counts," fred translated his reply. "it is the importance of the documents you carry." "true enough," jack agreed. again the french officer was chattering volubly. the others awaited fred's interpretation of it into english. "he says," he began finally, "that he believes we have arrived just in the nick of time, and that in another hour or two it might have been too late." "let him take us at once to the president, then," jack announced quickly. "we have no right to prolong the delay, now that we are actually in the city toward which we have been aiming for what now seems to me to have been years." fred indicated their desires to the frenchman. "oui! oui!" the latter exclaimed several times in succession, and led the way through the throng which parted for them, and toward an imposing building across a great public square. five minutes later they were in the presence of the president of the united states and the more important members of the american delegation. "you have the documents?" asked the secretary of state, after the president very briefly but very fervently had thanked the men for their courage and ability. for answer, jack undid his blouse, opened his clothing beneath, and produced a packet enclosed in a heavy reddish-brown envelope. the premier of the american cabinet hastily opened it and took out the papers it contained. he counted them carefully, and then began a minute examination of their signatures and certain secret markings which would not have been noticeable to anyone who did not know they were there. "they are intact, sir," the secretary of state finally announced, turning to the president. "very well," the latter replied, and he bowed to the young men in a way that not only expressed his profound gratitude, but the fact also that they might now consider themselves at liberty to take the long rest in which they were of so much need. "quarters already have been arranged for you, and i trust that you will find all the comforts and conveniences," the president announced, and they were ushered back across the square and to a splendid suite of rooms in one of the quietest and most exclusive hotels in versailles. chapter xxii world peace assured and thus it was that four lads from brighton--the school which had contributed so much in manly courage to the winning of the world war--added new laurels to the name, not only by successfully carrying out the first transatlantic aerial flight for the accomplishment of important governmental business, but by doing it upon a mission for the whole of civilization and humanity. for, when these lads awakened, after a deserved sleep of more than twenty hours, it was to find the london newspapers laid out for them, the head-lines telling the marvels of their accomplishment. japan was appeased. the work of the peace conference again took to smooth channels. world confidence and world peace were again restored. small wonder that all civilization paid homage to the brighton boys who had saved the situation! but if there was tribute to the boys while abroad, it was small and insignificant as compared with that which awaited them upon their arrival home. the officials at washington decided that the lads had indeed earned a rest from all nerve strain and fatigue, and so it was that they found placed at their disposal, after a two-days' rest at versailles, the best facilities on one of the fastest transatlantic liners. they sailed from liverpool three days later, but the news traveled long ahead of them. on the boat they were lionized. upon their arrival in new york they were idolized. they were treated as conquering heroes returning to their native land. and indeed that is what they were. for they had conquered not only almost every conceivable obstacle, including international intrigue, but they had established the fact that american grit could master the air and link the old and the new worlds in a quicker route than ever before was known. courtesy of the digital library@villanova university (http://digital.library.villanova.edu/)) motor stories thrilling adventure motor fiction no. sept. , five cents motor matt's make up or playing a new role _by the author of "motor matt"_ _street & smith publishers new york_ [illustration: _"maskee!" cried the astounded hindoo as motor matt leaped at him_] motor stories thrilling adventure motor fiction _issued weekly. by subscription $ . per year. copyright, , by_ street & smith, _ - seventh avenue, new york, n. y._ =no. .= new york, september , . =price five cents.= motor matt's make-up; or, playing a new rÔle. by the author of "motor matt." contents chapter i. high jinks in the side show. chapter ii. the "barker" shows his teeth. chapter iii. the man from washington. chapter iv. a clue in hindoostanee. chapter v. something wrong. chapter vi. a blunder in the right direction. chapter vii. the house with the green shutters. chapter viii. the pile of soot. chapter ix. matt meets an old acquaintance. chapter x. rescue! chapter xi. bill wily repents. chapter xii. matt lays his plans. chapter xiii. motor car and aeroplane. chapter xiv. the oak opening. chapter xv. aeroplane wins! chapter xvi. conclusion. a brave deed. a locomotive hero. geese drown a squirrel. characters that appear in this story. =matt king=, otherwise motor matt. =joe mcglory=, a young cowboy who proves himself a lad of worth and character, and whose eccentricities are all on the humorous side. a good chum to tie to--a point motor matt is quick to perceive. =carl pretzel=, an old chum who flags motor matt and more trouble than he can manage, at about the same time. in the rôle of detective, he makes many blunders, wise and otherwise, finding success only to wonder how he did it. =ping=, the chinese boy. =ben ali=, the hindoo hypnotist and elephant trainer, who executes a master-stroke in the matter of his niece, margaret manners, and finds that a letter in hindoostanee can sometimes prove a boomerang. =dhondaram and aurung zeeb=, two hindoos who have appeared before as confederates of the crafty ben ali, and who now show themselves for the last time in their villainous part, and vanish--one into prison and the other into parts unknown. =margaret manners=, the niece of the rascally ben ali and a ward of the british nation temporarily. in her particular case, justice is slow in righting a grievous wrong--and would have been slower but for motor matt and his aëroplane. =reginald pierce twomley=, who represents the british ambassador, wears a monocle, and who, in a passage at arms with dhondaram, proves himself a man in mcglory's eyes and a near-pard. =boss burton=, manager and proprietor of the "big consolidated," who, in his usual manner, forms hasty conclusions, discovers his errors, and shows no sign of repentance. =the bearded lady, the armless wonder, the elastic skin man, the zulu chief and the ossified man=, all freaks in the side-show tent, who appear briefly but brilliantly in the light of a roman candle. chapter i. high jinks in the side show. "hello, dere, viskers!" grinned carl pretzel, reaching up to grab the hairy paw of the zulu chief. "howdy, dutch!" answered the chief, with a nasal twang that suggested new england. "by jocks, i ain't seen yeou in quite a spell. how's tricks, huh?" "dricks iss fine, i bed you. say, sheef, dis iss mein leedle shink bard, ping pong. he iss der pest efer--oxcept me. shake hants, ping, mit a zulu sheef vat vas porn near pangor, maine." "tickled tew death," said the chief effusively, taking the yellow palm of a small chinaman who pushed himself closer to the platform. the scene was the side-show tent of the "big consolidated," boss burton's "tented aggregation of the world's marvels." the show had raised its "tops" at reid's lake, near the city of grand rapids. a high wind had prevented motor matt from giving his outdoor exhibition of aëroplane flying, and the disappointed crowds were besieging the side show, eager to beguile the time until the doors for the big show were open. with the exception of carl and ping, no outsiders had yet entered the side-show tent. carl, having once played the banjo for the zulu chief while he was dancing on broken glass in his bare feet, was a privileged character. he had walked into the tent without so much as a "by your leave," and he had escorted ping without any adverse comment by the man on the door. the freaks and wonders of the side show were all on their platforms and ready to be viewed. the ossified man had been dusted off for the last time, the bearded lady had just arranged her beard most becomingly, the elastic skin man was giving a few warming-up snaps to his rubberoid epidermis, the educated pig was being put through a preliminary stunt by the gentlemanly exhibitor, and the armless wonder was sticking a copy of the stars and stripes in the base of a wooden pyramid--using his toes. the armless wonder occupied the same platform as the zulu chief. his specialty was to stand on his head on the wooden pyramid, hold a roman candle with one foot, light it with the other, and shoot vari-colored balls through a hole in the tent roof. in front of the wonder, neatly piled on the little stage, were half a dozen long paper tubes containing the fire balls. "how you was, dutch?" inquired the wonder, doubling up in his chair and drawing a bandanna handkerchief over his perspiring face with his foot. "_ganz goot_," laughed carl, carelessly picking up one of the roman candles. "i vill make you acguainted, oof you blease, mit mein leedle shink bard." "shake!" cried the wonder heartily, offering his right foot. "it does me proud to meet up with a friend of pretzel's." "allee same happy days," remarked ping, releasing the foot and backing away. "yeou tew kids aire chums, huh?" put in the zulu chief, leaning down to arrange the row of photographs in front of him. "surest t'ing vat you know," answered carl. "dutchy boy heap fine," declared ping. "we both one-piecee pards." "that's the talk!" exclaimed the armless wonder. "too much weather for the flyin' machine to-day, huh? motor matt was afeared to go up, i reckon, dutch?" "afraidt?" protested carl. "modor matt vasn't afraidt oof anyt'ing. he couldn't haf shtaid ofer der show grounds, und dot's der reason he dit'nt go oop. der vind vould haf plowed him galley-vest, und den some." "i see. these here aëroplanes are hard things to handle, and----holy smoke! drop it! put it out!" carl, as has already been stated, had picked up one of the roman candles. while talking with the armless wonder, he leaned back against a tent pole and clasped his hands--the candle in one of them--behind him. ping had stepped back. the roman candle, held fuse end outward, looked most inviting. digging a match out of his kimono, ping scratched it on the pole and applied the flame unseen to the fuse. while the armless wonder was talking, carl heard a long-drawn-out hiss, a smell of smoke came to his nostrils, and a niagara of sparks floated around him. naturally he was startled, and it flashed over him that something was wrong with the roman candle. bringing the candle around in front of him for examination, he had it leveled at the wonder the very instant the first fire ball was due. the ball was not behind schedule. rushing from the end of the tube, it caught the wonder in the breast, and he turned a back somersault off the platform. bewildered by the mysterious cause of the situation, carl swerved the candle in order to get a look through the smoke and sparks at the place where the wonder had been seated. a roar came from the zulu chief. a ball of flaming red had slapped against his shoulder, and he jumped for the next platform on the right. landing on the edge, his weight overturned the structure. there was a scream from the bearded lady and a whoop from the elastic skin man, and the next moment they landed in a tangled heap on top of the zulu chief. "put it out!" the armless wonder continued to yell. "point it up or down!" bellowed the gentlemanly trainer of the educated pig. "ged some vater!" howled carl, running back and forth and waving the candle; "ged a pucket oof vater und i vill drown der t'ing in it!" the dutch boy didn't know what to do. if he dropped the candle he might get hit with some of the balls himself, and if he turned it straight upward he might set fire to the top of the tent. while he was running up and down, trying frantically to think of some way out of the trouble, of course the fire stick was continuing to unload. whizz--slap! a wad of yellow fire hit the pig, which squealed and bolted. the gentlemanly attendant tried to head off the porcine marvel, but it ran between his outspread feet and knocked him off the stand. a rain of lettered blocks followed. the frantic pig bunted into ping, tripped him, and hurled him against carl. both boys went down, and carl rolled over and over, discharging red, white, and blue balls as he revolved. up to that moment the ossified man had escaped. but now his turn had come. he was said to have been turning to stone for thirty years, and was supposed to be so brittle that he had to be handled with extreme care. the first ball that struck him, however, caused him to jump off his board slab with a yell. from the way he rushed to get out of the tent, it was pretty certain that he was as wiry and pliable as the average. the educated pig, to an accompaniment of yells, howls, and screams, and with the lurid glare of the popping balls lighting the smoky interior of the tent, ran on blindly, overturned the stage set aside for the zulu chief and the armless wonder, showered broken glass over everybody, and then tore through the tent wall and out into the open. naturally, this bedlam, suddenly turned loose in the tent, had excited the wonder and curiosity of the ticket seller, the "barker," and the man at the door. as the man at the door looked in, the last of the balls struck him below the belt, and he collapsed in the arms of the "barker," who was crowding in behind him. the last of the balls! that hollow, pasteboard tube seemed to have been a perfect mine of shooting stars. it had disgorged itself of a dozen. carl had not counted them--he was too busy with other matters--but it seemed to him as though the tube had been fully an hour getting rid of its contents. a madder assortment of freaks it would have been harder to find than wrangled and protested, there in the side-show tent, while they rubbed their bruises and shook the kinks out of themselves. "it was one of the armless wonder's roman candles," came in sepulchral tones from the ossified man as he climbed back to his slab. "i'll quit the show, and give two weeks' notice this minute," piped the bearded lady as she picked her way through the scattered glass, "if they don't cut out these fireworks. my goodness! you might just as well be killed outright as scart to death. wha'ju jump onto our stage for?" and she glared at the chief, who was gently massaging his burned spot. "by jocks," answered the chief, "i didn't care where i jumped s'long's i got away from the fireworks." "it was the dutchman done it," flared the wonder. "he's a freak," rumbled the ossified man. "kick him out." "i don'd peen a freak," said carl angrily, throwing the burned-out tube at the o. m. "oof i vas, den here iss vere i should shday." "did you set that roman candle to goin'?" demanded the "barker" fiercely. "i don'd set him to going, py chimineddy! i hat him in my handt, und he vent off mit himseluf. dot's all aboudt it." "this ain't no place for them kind o' jokes," cried the elastic skin man. "he's played hob with this outfit: give him a h'ist!" the ticket seller, the "barker," and the man on the door all three fell upon carl. between them they had the dutch boy turning cartwheels through the entrance. ping, the cause of all the trouble, slipped away quietly under the canvas wall--but not until he had picked up something white from the earthen floor of the tent. the object lay close to where carl had lain, and ping conceived the idea that it belonged to the dutch boy and that it was his duty to recover it and return it to the owner. chapter ii. the "barker" shows his teeth. when carl finally rounded up his wits he found himself sitting under the lee of the "animal top," leaning against one of the guy ropes. the wind was blowing half a gale, and the big tents swayed and tugged at their fastenings. there was only one idea just then in the dutch boy's mind, and that was this: "how dit dot roman gandle go off mit itseluf? i remember taking him in my handt und holting him pehindt me, und den--whizz, bang! ach, how der shparks dit fly! dere vas fordy-'lefen palls in der gandle, und i hit a freak mit efery pall. donnervetter, vat a hot time!" at this point ping came rounding the curved canvas wall, head to the wind, blouse and wide trousers flapping, and pulling himself along by means of the guy ropes. "hello, clal!" he called, mooring himself to a tent stake. "hello yourseluf once!" answered carl, drawing one powder-blackened hand up and down his trousers leg. "how you like der pooty firevorks?" "by klismus!" grinned the chinaman, "him velly fine. fleaks no likee." "how dit der gandle go off mit itseluf? tell me dose." ping's grin faded from his yellow face, and he grew solemn and serious. "no savvy, clal. him devil joss stick, awri'. whoosh!" a sudden suspicion darted through carl's brain as he stared at ping. the chinese boy was altogether too serious. "py shiminy grickets!" whooped carl, "vas it you dot douched him off ven der gandle vas my pack pehindt und i don'd see? dit you make all der drouples? oof i vas sure oof dot, den i vould eat you oop like some ham santviches." ping gave a yell of protest. "we allee same fliends, huh?" he demanded. "why my makee tlouble fo' fliend?" "vell, i don'd know for vy, aber such chokes iss nod vat i like. oof i findt oudt dot you lit der gandle, den i vill ged efen for dot. you bed my life, i pay efery debt vat i owe." ping looked serious. then, glad that he was able to change the subject, he remarked: "you losee one piecee papel in tent, clal?" "i don't got one piecee paper, shink. how could i lose somet'ing vat i don't got?" "my findee him same place you makee tumble. look." ping drew the folded sheet from his blouse. carl stretched out his hand. "i vill take a look at dot," said he. when opened flat, the sheet contained writing, but it was not writing that carl could read. "vedder it iss a ledder or nod," mused carl, "i don'd know. vat i see on dis paper looks schust like hen dracks. it don'd vas english, und it don'd vas german. iss it shink wriding, ping?" ping dropped to his knees and examined the sheet of paper upside down and sideways. "my no savvy," he answered. "him not china writing. some fleak lettee dlop--him fleak writing. him no gottee sense." carl wrinkled his brows ominously. "i tell you somet'ing," said he. "dere iss more to dis alretty as we know, ping. i peen a tedectif. meppy you vill make a tedectif, too. subbose we findt oudt vat der ledder iss aboudt?" "plaps we no makee find out." "dot's vere der tedectif part comes in." "plaps we no gottee sense enough, clal." "_ach, du lieber!_" grunted carl. "ditn't i findt dot margaret manners vat vas draveling mit der show? ditn't i get dot ben ali hindoo feller on der run? ditn't i vin fife tousant tollars?" "you no gettee fi' thousan' dol'." "i vill get dot. it has to come from inchia, und inchia iss more as ten tousant miles from vere i am. it takes time to get money from inchia. i was a shmard feller to do all dot. meppy i gif you some lessons und you vill be as shmard as vat i am." "plaps." "you vant to choin in mit me, hey?" "awri'. no savvy pidgin, clal. what we do?" before carl could answer, the "barker" for the side show came running around the tent wall. carl grabbed the letter out of ping's hand and thrust it into his pocket. "what yuh got there?" demanded the "barker," coming to a halt and glaring at carl. "you don'd got some pitzness to know," was the dutch boy's calm reply. the "barker's" name was bill wily, but, on account of his shady character, he was generally known as wily bill. "i lost a letter durin' that shake-up in the tent," said wily bill, truculently, "an' it looked to me as though that sheet yuh just tucked away in your jeans was the one. hand it over." "don'd get gay mit yourseluf," warned carl, rising to his feet. "where'd yuh git that paper?" "dot's for me to know. oof you get pitzness any blace else, don'd let us keep you a minid. moof on. i don'd like you none too vell, anyhow." "you'll give me that paper," declared wily bill angrily, "or i'll twist that dutch neck o' yours." "meppy you vill," answered carl, "aber i don'd tink. here it iss different as it vas in der show. you don'd got der freaks und der odders to helup." "i'll find burton," fumed wily bill, "and i'll tell him yuh've stole that there paper off me." "den you vill be telling purton vat ain'd so." the "barker" took a step forward. "yuh goin' to give me that?" he shouted. "say," answered carl, with a happy thought, "you tell me vat iss in der ledder, den oof it agrees mit vat iss dere you prove he belong mit you, und i gif him oop. oddervise, nod. hey?" "oh, you fall off the earth!" growled wily bill. "i don't have to tell what's in the letter in order to prove it's mine, see? fork over." carl had thought he might get wily bill to translate the "hen tracks," but the "barker" either could not or would not. "you und me don'd agree on dot," said carl stoutly. "you tell me vat iss in der ledder, oder you don'd get him. dot's all aboudt it." "look here," and wily bill made a threatening gesture with his clinched fist, "pass that over or i'll push yer face inter yer back hair. now, then. cough up or take the consequences." "i dradder fighdt as eat some meals!" whooped carl. "come on vonce, oof dot's der game. hit me in der eye! dot geds my madt oop kevicker as anyt'ing, und i fighdt pedder der madder vat i ged. eider eye, it _machts nichts aus_. blease!" with a savage exclamation, wily bill threw himself forward and lunged with the full force of his right. carl ducked sideways. the fist missed him, and the impetus of the blow hurled wily bill over the guy rope. boss burton, the proprietor of the show, seeing the clash from a distance, was hurrying up to take a part in proceedings. he arrived just in time to collide with the tumbling form of the "barker." it was with difficulty that burton retained his footing. the breath was knocked out of him, and as he tottered and gasped he glared at wily bill. "dere iss poss purton," chuckled carl. "schust tell him vat you vant und see vat he say." "what're you roughing things up like this for, wily?" demanded the showman. "you know very well i don't allow any fighting on the show grounds." "that dutchman," answered the "barker," getting his temper a little in hand, "has got a letter belongin' to me. i want it, an' he won't give it up." "is that so, carl?" asked burton, whirling on the dutch boy. "i don'd know vedder or nod it iss so," replied carl. "i got a ledder, und he say it pelongs by him. aber he von't say vat iss in der ledder, so how could i know?" "isn't the envelope addressed?" "dere iss no enfellup." "isn't there a name on the letter?" "dere iss no name anyvere." "it's from a pal o' mine, burton," explained wily bill, "and i dropped it out of my kick in the tent. this dutch lobster and that chink turned on a row in the side show. the dutchman got one of the armless wonder's roman candles, and while he held it behind him the chink touched a match to it, and we had all kinds of fireworks for a----" "donner und blitzen!" yelled carl, facing ping and shaking his fist. "den it _vas_ you, hey? i von't be no tedectif mit you! you vas no bard to blay sooch a choke! i vill ged efen, yah, so hellup me! oof you----" "that will do," cut in boss burton sternly. "we'll settle this letter business before we do anything else. where did you get the thing, carl?" "dot false-alarm chink gif him by me," answered carl, watching angrily while ping allowed the wind to waft him out of sight around the side-show tent. "where did he get it?" "he picked him oop from vere i lay on der groundt. dot's vat he say, aber my confidences in him vas padly shook." "give it to me." there was no dodging such an order from the proprietor of the show, and the folded sheet was handed over. burton looked at the letter. while he was doing so, wily bill made a desperate grab for it. the showman was too quick for the "barker," and jerked the sheet out of reach. "that's your game, is it?" growled burton. "go back to your job, wily. come to me after the show, and we'll talk this over. i don't like the way you're acting in this matter, and if you know when you're well off, you'll put your foot on the soft pedal and keep it there. not a word! clear out!" with a black scowl, and a look at carl that boded him no good, wily bill turned on his heel and made his way back to the side show. chapter iii. the man from washington. "sufferin' hurricanes, what a blow!" remarked joe mcglory. "what good's a flying machine, pard, when a spell of weather puts it down and out? the _comet's_ a back number in a hatful of wind." "hatful!" repeated motor matt. "if this breeze isn't doing fifty miles an hour i'm no hand at guessing." the two motor boys were in their old rendezvous, the calliope tent, sitting on a couple of overturned buckets and listening to the roar and boom of bellying canvas, the flutter and snap of banners, and the whistle of violently disturbed air around the tent poles. the big card played by burton was the aëroplane flights, two of which were given every day, before the afternoon and the evening performance--wind and weather permitting. since the motor boys' engagement with burton, matt had not failed to take the aëroplane aloft on an average of more than two days a week. this violent wind made the morning flight at reid's lake one of the "off" days. there was a chance, however, that the wind would go down with the sun, and that it would be possible to do a little flying before the evening show. it was saturday, and the "big consolidated" was to remain at reid's lake over sunday and give two performances monday. on monday, therefore, it was quite possible the _comet_ would be able to carry out her part of the circus programme. "up in north dakota," observed joe mcglory, "where it blows like sin when it _does_ blow, you've capered around in the sky in the face of a breeze every bit as strong as this, matt." "there it was different," answered the young motorist. "i didn't have to manipulate the machine over the show grounds, and there were not thousands of people directly underneath to suffer if the aëroplane didn't come down in the place from which it started. i don't want any more accidents like the one we had at jackson." "where a snake short-circuited the engine, and you had all kinds of hair-raising experiences," breathed mcglory. "speak to me about that! by gorry, i wouldn't even look on while you pulled off another such performance, pard, for a million in yellow boys!" before the king of the motor boys could make any reply, landers, the man who had charge of the calliope, showed himself in the tent door. behind him trailed a smooth-faced man of forty, in a cap and gray tweeds. "that's motor matt," said landers, pointing to the young motorist. "this gentleman wants a word with you, matt," he added, "and i volunteered to show him where you could be found." landers ducked away again, and the stranger pushed into the tent. "fancy!" he exclaimed, staring at matt, then at mcglory, and then letting his eyes wander around the tent. "so this is motor matt. ah, by jove!" mcglory picked up a bucket, emptied the water out of it, and turned it upside down. "sit down, pilgrim," said the cowboy, "and make yourself comfortable." the other pulled up his trousers at the knees and deposited himself carefully on the bucket. he laughed a little, lifted a round piece of glass from his coat and tucked it into his right eye, and then took another look at matt and mcglory. "only fancy!" he murmured. "if you want to join the show," said mcglory, with a wink at matt, "you'll have to see burton." "join the show?" returned the other. "why, i don't want to join the blooming circus. i'm just looking for motor matt, don't you know." "you're not looking for him, neighbor, but at him. it's your move." "deuced odd, that. my move. in other words, i'm to tell my business, eh? it's private, very. i want to talk with motor matt alone." mcglory started to get up, but matt stopped him with a gesture. "this is my chum, joe mcglory," said he. "i have no secrets from him. fire away, sir." "aw," drawled the other. "well, if that's the way of it, then here goes." drawing a morocco case from his pocket, the stranger extracted a card and handed it to matt. "reginald pierce twomley," ran the legend on the card; then, down in the lower left-hand corner were the words: "attaché british embassy, washington." matt passed the card to mcglory. "glad to see you, mr. twomley," said matt. "what can we do for you?" reginald pierce twomley lighted a cigarette. it was a pretty cigarette, with a gilt monogram on one side. he offered the case to the boys, but they respectfully declined. "aw, let us approach our business with method," said mr. twomley. "i have come from washington--aw--on very important business. allow me to prove my right to act as agent for his excellency the ambassador by recapitulating a few facts with which you must be familiar. "at one time, my dear sir, there was with this circus a hindoo mahout who called himself ben ali. that was not his real name, but it will serve. with ben ali was a young lady who was called haidee. ben ali was a rotter--the worst case of thug that ever came out of the bombay presidency--and he had a powerful rajah for a brother. ben ali took care of the rajah's elephant herd. the rajah's sister married one lionel manners. manners died, his wife perished by the infernal practice of _suttee_--even now secretly practised in spite of the english government--and ben ali left india with manners' only daughter, margaret. the girl known as haidee was in reality margaret manners. am i correct?" matt nodded. "ben ali was an adept in the hypnotic line," proceeded twomley, looking thoughtfully into the smoke of his cigarette, "and miss manners was in this country and with the show against her will. her uncle, the rascally ben ali, kept her under his evil influence, and was gradually causing her to forget even her own identity. the mahout bore a grudge against his powerful brother, the rajah, and he had stolen the girl in a spirit of revenge. eventually, he hoped to force the rajah to pay many rupees for miss manners before ben ali released her. but this is beside the mark. i don't care a hap'orth about that part of it. the point that concerns the british ambassador, sir roger morse-edwards, is this: "you and your friends, motor matt, discovered who haidee really was. you rescued her from the evil spell of the mahout, and she was left in lafayette, indiana, in charge of a worthy english lady, pending advices from her uncle, the rajah, in india. we have received advices, not from the rajah, but direct from our foreign office. i was sent forthwith to lafayette to get miss manners, take her to new york, and, with a suitable maid as companion, send her by first steamer to liverpool, and so to london." "good!" exclaimed matt, with visible satisfaction. "miss manners is a very fine girl, and i suppose her future will make up for the many hardships she has undergone while in this country." "exactly," answered twomley, "if we could find her. but we can't. she has disappeared." "disappeared?" gasped matt. "that is the way of it. i went to this english lady in lafayette, and she received me with astonishment. several days before a man, professing to be from the ambassador, had called and taken miss manners away. we are done, done as brown as a kipper, and a telegram to washington brought an answer requesting me to hunt up this show and have a talk with you." motor matt was astounded. and so was mcglory. "have you any idea who the man was that called on the english woman in lafayette and took miss manners away?" "no. the lafayette police are looking for him." "have you any idea that ben ali is mixed up in the affair?" "i have, motor matt, and a very clear idea. i was ten years in india, and learned the natives there, and their ways. it was for that, i fancy, that sir roger asked me to come for miss manners. while i was about taking the train at lafayette, yesterday, i received another message from the ambassador. that message informed me that a telegram had been received from ben ali, informing sir roger that he again had the girl in his possession, and that she would be delivered to any agent sir roger might send after her on payment of ten thousand pounds." "fifty thousand dollars!" exclaimed matt. then he whistled. "old ben ali is out for the stuff," muttered mcglory grimly. "he's a crafty beggar!" commented twomley. "i left all the telegrams with the police, and sir roger is taking the whole matter up with the united states state department. the secret service of the government will presently be at work on this case, for it is of international importance. can you give any information, motor matt, that will help us find ben ali, or miss manners?" matt shook his head. "why doesn't the ambassador agree to send some one to meet ben ali? then the rascal could be caught." "he's too clever to let himself be caught. he----" just here boss burton strode into the tent, followed by carl. "shut up about that, carl," the showman was growling. "you haven't any right to that letter, and i'm going to keep it." "i'm in der tedectif pitzness," returned carl, "und i need dot ledder, py shinks, to helup unrafel der case. modor matt," and carl appealed to his pard, "make purton gif me der ledder." "what letter?" demanded matt. "i'll tell you what we'll do," said burton to carl; "we'll leave the letter with matt. if wily can prove it's his, then matt can turn the thing over to him." burton handed a folded sheet to matt. the latter, entirely in the dark, opened the sheet and laid it on his knee. "what sort of writing is this?" he asked. "that's too many for me. it isn't chinese--carl said ping told him that--and it isn't dutch. of course, it's not english. and who it belongs to, or where it came from, or what's the good of it, is more than i know. but it appears to have caused a lot of bother." "it's hindoostanee," spoke up twomley, staring at the open sheet. "i can read the language. if you wish, i'll translate it." then, for the first time, burton and carl turned on the englishman and took his measure. chapter iv. a clue in hindoostanee. "who are you, my friend?" inquired burton bluntly. "a friend of motor matt," replied twomley easily. "he'll vouch for me, i fancy." "mr. twomley, attaché of the british legation at washington, burton," said matt. "mr. burton," matt added to the englishman, "is the proprietor of the show. the other lad is carl pretzel, who is also a chum of mine. we can talk over this matter before them. carl had everything to do with the finding of margaret manners, back there at lafayette." "aw," drawled twomley, screwing his monocle in his eye, and regarding the dutch boy, "he's the claimant for that thousand pounds reward, i dare say." tremors of excitement ran galloping through carl. "haf you prought der money?" he fluttered. "vas you looking for me to pay ofer dot rewart?" "i am sorry to say that i haven't brought the money. that matter is still in abeyance." "vat iss dot?" asked the puzzled carl. "i don'd _verstch_ dot vort apeyance." "he means the matter is still pending, carl," put in matt. "in other words, you haven't got the money yet." "i know dot, aber vill i ged it? dot's vat gifs me some vorries." "the rajah's a regular topper," said twomley. "he'd never miss a thousand pounds, and i fancy he'll do the right thing." "mooch opliged," breathed carl, in deep satisfaction. "it vas a habbiness to know dot i ged him some dime." "now, if you wish," went on twomley, stretching out his hand for the letter. "just a moment, mr. twomley," said matt. "we don't know much about this letter, and i'd like to find out where and how carl got it, and what the dispute is about." the dutch boy launched into an explanation, beginning with the roman candle and ending at the place where burton refused to turn the letter over to wily bill. carl touched but lightly on the culpability of ping in the matter of the roman candle. in this he was wise. motor matt's orders were to the effect that there should be no bickering between the dutch boy and the chinese lad. they had been at swords' points for a long while and had only recently developed a friendly feeling for each other. "i always sized up that wily bill for a false alarm," remarked mcglory. "can he read that hindoostanee lingo? i'll bet my spurs he can't! if that's the case, what's he doing with the letter?" "he must have wanted it a whole lot," said matt, "or he wouldn't have made such a fight to get it. perhaps the letter itself will be a clue. tell us what's in it, mr. twomley," and matt passed the letter to the englishman. the latter studied the sheet with absorbed attention. finally he sprang up. "by jove!" he exploded. "what's the matter?" inquired matt. "this is luck! just fancy such a clue coming into our hands at this very moment when it is most needed. aw, it's--aw--incredible." "you might give us a chance to pass judgment on that, mr. twomley," returned burton. "maybe it's not so incredible as you seem to think." "it was written by ben ali," said the attaché. "_that_ tinhorn!" exclaimed mcglory. "i thought we'd cut him out of our herd altogether. beats creation how he keeps bobbing up." "who's it for?" spoke up matt. "has bill wily any right to it?" "the name of wily doesn't appear anywhere in the writing," answered twomley. "in fact, the letter's addressed to a fellow named dhondaram." here was another hot shot. both mcglory and matt were brought excitedly to their feet. "dhondaram!" growled burton, with an expressive glance at the king of the motor boys. "i thought we'd heard the last of that villain." "who was he?" demanded twomley. "a hindoo----" "so i gather from the name." "he blew into the show grounds with a cobra and a home-made flute, when we were at jackson, and i gave him ben ali's place as driver of our man-killin' elephant, rajah. oh, he did a lot of things, dhondaram did. we captured him, but he got loose and dropped off the train between stations." "aw, ben ali didn't know that," reflected twomley. "ben ali must have thought he was still with the show, and sent this letter to him." "what does the letter say?" asked matt, with some impatience. "it asked dhondaram to finish his work as soon as possible and to join ben ali, with the money, in short order." a silence followed, and during the silence the motor boys exchanged wondering looks. "what was dhondaram's work?" queried twomley. "nothing more or less than putting pard matt out of the running," replied mcglory. "ben ali's on the warpath against matt, because of what he did in lafayette, and dhondaram tried hard to wipe my pard off the slate." "ben ali speaks of money," went on twomley. "what does that mean?" burton muttered wrathfully. "i'll bet a thousand," said he, "that refers to the proceeds of the afternoon performance in jackson, which the ticket man and this dhondaram tried to get away with. ben ali put up the job with dhondaram, and the ticket man was helping them out." "matters must have been lively all around in jackson," observed twomley. "dhondaram didn't get the money?" "not so you could notice," answered mcglory. "pard matt jumped in and plugged that little game." "ben ali," reasoned the king of the motor boys, "has probably been thinking of recapturing miss manners for some time. all he had dhondaram try to do, in jackson, was to help on his villainous schemes. but dhondaram failed. probably ben ali is needing some money pretty badly, about now. what is the date of that letter, mr. twomley?" "there is no date." "then there's no telling how long bill wily has carried it in his pocket?" the attaché shook his head. "he must have got it after we left jackson, pard," interposed mcglory. "if he had got it before, he'd have passed it on to dhondaram." "how he got it at all is a mystery," mused the young motorist. "he has probably seen and talked with ben ali." "before the show got to jackson, then," continued the cowboy, who was doing a little sharp thinking. "if he had talked with ben ali after the doings in jackson, he'd have told the old skinner how dhondaram fell down." "there's a clue here, but it's not so promising as it might be," came disappointedly from the englishman. matt walked toward the tent door. "our best clue," said he decisively, "is bill wily. we'd better go to the side show and have a talk with him." "bring him here, matt," suggested burton. "we can talk with him in this place to better advantage than in the side-show tent. i'll go with you and make sure he comes. the rest of you wait," and the showman started from the calliope tent after matt. inquiry of the man on the door at the side show developed the fact that bill wily had started for town. he had been gone about five minutes, matt and burton were informed, and had left the show grounds for the street-car track. "he's making a getaway!" averred burton. "that's the way it looks," agreed matt. "we've got to stop him, if we can." without loss of time the king of the motor boys and the showman hustled for the place where the street-car track made a loop, just beyond a big concert garden. they were hoping to catch wily before he could board a car. but in this they were disappointed. a car was moving off in the direction of town, and all their frantic yells and gestures were powerless to secure the attention of the conductor. "it'll be fifteen minutes before there's another car," panted burton, "and by that time the 'barker' will be--the deuce only knows where. it's a cinch, matt, that he's scared, and is running away. if there was an automobile handy, we could overhaul the car." burton looked in every direction. "but, of course," he added, "whenever you want a chug-wagon there's none in sight." a familiar humming drew motor matt's attention. looking in the direction of the sound, he saw a motor-cycle spinning along the road from the direction of grand rapids. a young fellow of nineteen or twenty was in the saddle. "there's something that will do--if we can borrow it," said matt, and jumped into the road and waved his hands. the motorcycle came to a stop. "are you flagging me?" asked the driver of the machine. "yes," said matt hurriedly. "i want to overhaul the street car that just left here. there's a man aboard that we've got to catch. will you let me take your motorcycle?" "well, i guess not!" was the reply. "the last time i loaned this machine i was two days getting it back into shape again." "i'll give you twenty dollars for the use of it, young man," put in burton eagerly. "no inducement," was the answer. "there's hard luck for you, motor matt," grunted burton. the young fellow had been on the point of starting away, but he suddenly paused and turned to matt. "are you matt king," he asked, "the fellow they call motor matt?" "yes," was the reply. "doing an aëroplane stunt with the show?" "yes." "well, take the machine. it won't cost you a cent, either. i work in a motor-car factory in the rapids, and we've heard a good deal about you there. i'm tickled to death to be able to help you out. bring the machine back here when you're done with it, and you'll find me waiting." "such is fame!" laughed burton. with a hasty word of thanks, matt headed the machine the other way and got into the saddle. one turn of the pedal and the motor took up its cycle. half a minute later the king of the motor boys was out of sight down the road. chapter v. something wrong. mcglory, carl, and twomley waited in the calliope tent until their patience was exhausted. "py shiminy," fluttered carl, "i bed you somet'ing for nodding dot vily pill don'd vas by der site show yet." "i reckon you've dropped a bean on the right number," agreed the cowboy. "what's our next jump, your highness?" the question was put to the englishman. "aw, i say," said the latter, in remonstrance, "i'm not that, don't you know. i'm not of the peerage. an uncle and three cousins, all distressingly healthy, stand between me and an earldom." "i want to know!" murmured mcglory, in mock surprise. "why, i didn't think any one this side a lord could wear one of those little window panes in the right eye." "you jest," said twomley, with a faint smile. "fancy!" "well, anyhow, what are we going to do? sit here and wait, or hit the trail ourselves and find out what's doing?" "hit the trail?" echoed twomley, lifting his brows. "deuced odd, that. why should we hit it, and what shall we hit it with?" "vat a ignorance!" murmured carl. "we'll hit it with our feet, excellency," went on mcglory. he had a hearty contempt for the monocle, and took it out on the wearer. "i don't know whether i rise to that," returned twomley, "but if it means to go forth and look into the cause of our friends' delay in returning with wily bill, then, it's ay, ay, with a will." "come on, then, and we'll vamose." mcglory led the way to the side-show tent, and twomley and carl followed him closely. the crowds had long since entered the big tents, and the performance in the "circus top" was in full blast. with the beginning of the "big show" there was no business left for the annex, and the ticket seller was withdrawn under the lee of a canvas wall, hobnobbing with the man on the door. these two informed mcglory, twomley, and carl that wily bill had left for town on the street car, and that motor matt and burton had started for the car line in the hope of overhauling him. but that had been all of half an hour before. the three searchers immediately departed for the car-line loop. there they found burton and a young fellow kicking their heels impatiently and keeping their eyes down the track. "where's matt?" asked mcglory. "ask us something easy," replied burton. "wily has hiked for town. when we got here the car he was on was too far down the track to stop. this young man"--the showman indicated his companion--"came along on a motor cycle. matt borrowed the machine with the intention of overtaking the car and bringing wily back, but neither has shown up yet. must be something wrong." "vell, i bed you!" said carl anxiously. "on some modor cycles mile-a-minid matt alvays geds vere he iss going pefore he shtarts. somet'ing has gone crossvays alretty, und dot's no tream." "i'm doing a century to-day," remarked the motor cycle owner, "and this is cutting into my time." "don't fret about your wheel, neighbor," spoke up mcglory. "you'll get it back, all right." "i'm not fretting. motor matt's welcome to a dozen of the gasoline bikes if i had 'em. but i'd like to be moving on." burton looked at his watch. "matt's been gone thirty-five minutes," he announced. "if he was running all the time," observed the lad from the motor-car works, "he could be thirty-five miles from here." "perhaps," ventured twomley, "he has mucked the play, somehow." "mucked the play!" exclaimed the exasperated mcglory. "that's not his style, your lordship." "we'll wait twenty-five minutes longer," announced burton. "if matt isn't back by then, this young man and i will start along the car track in my runabout and we'll see what we can find." "dake me along," clamored carl. "i vas afraidt somet'ing iss wrong mit matt." "if there are any extra passengers in the runabout," said mcglory resolutely, "i'm the one." "my word!" muttered twomley. "i hope everything's all serene, i do, indeed. i'm a juggins at waiting when there's so much excitement going on." "juggins is good," grunted mcglory. "you can retire somewhere, mr. twomley, and hold onto your nerves while the rest of us hunt up the 'barker.' you'll not shine much till we find wily bill, anyhow." "you're an odd stick," answered twomley, whose good nature was not a thing to be ruffled. he was sharp enough to see that the cowboy had a pique at him, and he had sufficient good sense to take it calmly. "py shinks," said carl, after ten more weary minutes had passed, "matt has hat time to do some centuries himseluf, und i can't guess it oudt for vy he don'd get pack. oof you don'd dake me in der runaboudt, den, so helup me, i vill valk. anydink is pedder to shtand as uncerdainties." carl constantly watched the road that paralleled the car track. and so, for the most part, did the englishman. "my word, but it is trying!" murmured twomley. "if we could only see a bit of dust, then we'd know motor matt was coming, and my relief would be profound." "dust! _ach, himmelblitzen!_ vy, matt vill go so fast on dot machine der dust vill be a mile pehindt und you don'd see dot." "here's something," came from mcglory. "speak to me about it, will you? where's ping? little slant-eyes is always around when anything is doing, but i haven't seen him since he finished watering the calliope." carl knew why ping wasn't around. ping was afraid carl would do something to him to play even for the roman-candle business. oh, yes, that was an easy one for carl to guess. there was secret satisfaction for the dutch boy in the reflection. and he gloated over it and kept it to himself. "time's up," announced burton, snapping his watch, "and here's where i go for the runabout. my thoroughbred is hitched to the buggy, so be ready to go with me," he added to the owner of the motor cycle. "i'm not worrying about the wheel, understand," said the lad, "but about the century i'm to turn. i'm making it right in the teeth of this wind." inside of five minutes burton came with the runabout, his kentucky thoroughbred stamping off the ground at a record pace. the runabout seat was narrow, and burton and the lad from the motor-car factory filled it comfortably. but they took mcglory on their knees and whipped away, leaving twomley and carl gazing after them disconsolately. hardly were the runabout and its passengers out of sight when a car rounded the loop and deposited its passengers on the platform. "led's ged on der car, misder dumley," suggested carl. "ve vill vatch der road as ve go, und oof ve see somet'ing ve vill trop off. i peen a tedectif feller, und oof dere iss any clues dey von't ged avay from me." "go you!" answered twomley heartily. any sort of action was a relief for his impatience, and he and carl scrambled aboard the car. meanwhile the pedigreed kentucky cob was pounding off the distance. in the horse's performance the proud showman lost sight of the main business in hand--temporarily. "see that knee action!" he exulted. "did either of you ever see a prettier bit of traveling? we're doing a mile in two-thirty!" "bother the horse!" growled mcglory. "keep your eyes on the road for clues." "clues! i'll bet money the 'barker' wouldn't get off the car. how could matt make him? he couldn't, of course. nothing short of a cop and a warrant could make wily bill leave the car if he was set for reaching grand rapids. i might have known that, if i had stopped to think. we'll have to keep right on into town--and, then, like as not, we won't find either matt or wily. now----" "whoa!" cried mcglory. "you're shy a few, burton. here's where we stop." "what's up?" returned burton, reining in his spirited roadster. "look there!" mcglory pointed to the left-hand side of the road. close to a steep bank, against a clump of bushes, stood the motor cycle. "jupiter!" exclaimed burton. "great scott!" cried the owner of the machine. mcglory tumbled clear of the runabout and started toward the bushes. he had not taken half a dozen steps, however, before he came to a dead stop. a form fluttered out of the bushes and approached him excitedly. "ping!" gasped the cowboy. "speak to me about this! where'd you come from, ping? and where's pard matt?" the chinese boy's feelings apparently defied expression. he tried to speak, but his lips moved soundlessly. hopping up and down in his sandals, he waved his arms and pointed--not toward grand rapids, but off across a piece of rough woodland. chapter vi. a blunder in the right direction. ping had felt certain that his move in touching off the roman candle had not been seen. it was a disagreeable surprise to him, therefore, when bill wily told carl just who was responsible for the fireworks. ping and carl were trying hard to be pards. their hearts were not in the attempt, for deep in the spirit of each one slumbered a latent animosity against the other. but they had to try to fraternize. motor matt had issued an edict to the effect that, if they did not become pards, he and mcglory would cut them out of the motor boys' combination. so the lads did their utmost to appear friendly. they wandered around together, and whenever matt or mcglory was in sight they locked arms and addressed each other in terms of endearment. when they were away from matt and mcglory they still kept up the pretense, but in a manner that was more subdued. ping could not resist the temptation to touch a match to the roman candle. he had not expected to cause such a disturbance, and the fact that chaos had reigned in the side show, and that his culpability had become known, filled him with apprehension. carl would tell matt, and matt would sidetrack his chinese pard. ping worried, and had no desire to see matt, or any one else. the show was to be at reid's lake for three days, and there was no sunday performance. ping, therefore, could flock by himself until monday afternoon. ping's work consisted of watering the steam calliope, and in helping the aëroplane take its running start for the flights. owing to the wind, there would be no morning flight, and--very likely, as he argued to himself--no afternoon ascension, either. and ping knew motor matt would not work on sunday. taken all in all, this was a most propitious time for ping to absent himself from the show grounds. with the idea that he would go into grand rapids and hunt up some of his countrymen, he left the grounds and made his way around the concert garden to the car-line loop. here his nerve began to fail him, and he allowed two or three cars to come and go without getting aboard. finally he bolstered up his tottering resolution and climbed into one of the cars. looking through the open window, after he had taken his seat, he saw wily bill swing up by the hand rails. ping was asking himself what this could mean when the car pulled out. a little worried, he knew not for what reason, he got up from his seat and walked to the forward platform, thinking it well to keep out of bill wily's sight. suddenly he became aware of something. a voice, from far behind, was shouting for the car to stop. the passengers, thrusting their heads from the windows, were looking back, and some of them were talking excitedly. ping, hanging out from the lower step, turned his gaze rearward, and what he saw caused his heart to thump wildly against his ribs. one of the little two-wheeled devil wagons was rushing along the road that paralleled the track, coming like a limited choo-choo train, and motor matt was in the saddle! ping had but one thought. the dutch boy had told matt about the roman candle, and matt was chasing the street car in order to remove his chinese pard, read the riot act to him, and cast him adrift. what a turn ping had! he crouched down on the step, and the clatter of the gong, as the conductor gave the motorman the bell from the rear platform, sent a shiver of dread through his nerves. rather than face matt and be cut out of the motor boys' combination, ping would have done almost anything. the only thing that suggested itself at that moment was to jump and run. his original intention to lie low until the roman-candle incident blew over grew stronger in his mind. the car was beginning to slow down, but it was still proceeding at a lively gait when ping threw himself straight out from the lower step. the chinese boy did not know the proper way to alight from a swiftly moving trolley car, and the result of his leap can be imagined. the passengers who were looking out from that side of the car had a vision of a small chinaman in the air, pigtail flying. the next instant the chinaman touched ground, but found it moving too fast for a secure foothold. ping bounded into the air again, his slouch hat going in one direction, his sandals in another, and he himself describing what is technically known as a parabola. the le bons--the best "kinkers" in the big consolidated--could not have twisted themselves into more fantastic shapes than did ping during that stunt of ground-and-lofty tumbling. he landed on the ground like a frog taking to the water from the top of a toadstool, and he wound up his performance by throwing a number of choice cartwheels and then sitting up in the dust and looking around in considerable mental perturbation. about the first thing he saw and was able to realize was that another besides himself had made a jump from the car. the other was wily bill, and he must have dropped from the rear platform a little before ping dropped from the platform forward. wily bill, however, must have known how to jump from a swiftly moving car and yet keep his balance, for he was on his feet and making a dash for a brushy bank at the roadside. motor matt had swerved his motor cycle and was making in the "barker's" direction, calling loudly the while for him to stop. the light that dawned on ping, just then, was a good balm for his bruises. matt was not chasing him, after all, but had been hot on the trail of wily bill! while ping sat there in the dust, hat and sandals gone, his clothes torn and awry, and himself more or less disorganized, he saw wily bill scramble up the steep bank and vanish among the bushes on the top of it. possibly thirty seconds later, matt sprang from the motor cycle, leaped up the ascent like an antelope, and likewise vanished. "by klismus!" murmured ping, rubbing his knees. "velly funny pidgin! my no savvy. one piecee queer biz, you bettee. wow! china boy all blokee up! motol matt no wanchee pullee pin on china boy. hoop-a-la!" between his physical pain on account of his bruises and his rejoicing over the discovery that matt had not been following him, ping failed to observe that the street car had stopped and backed up to the place nearest the spot where he was crooning to himself and rubbing his bruised limbs. it was not until the conductor and the motorman faced him that ping realized that he was the object of their consideration. "didju fall off?" asked the conductor. "no makee fall," answered ping, cocking up his almond eyes, "makee jump." "blamed wonder yu didn't break yer neck!" growled the motorman. "chinks don't know nothin' anyhow." "hurt?" asked the conductor, animated by a laudable desire to avoid a damage suit in behalf of the company. "heap sore," chattered ping, "no bleakee bone. hoop-a-la!" he jubilated, a wide grin cutting his yellow face in half. "woosh!" he added, as the grin faded and a look of pain took its place. "well, i'm stumped!" muttered the conductor. "is he crazy, or what?" he added, looking at the motorman. "pass it up," snapped the motorman. "chinks is only half baked, best you can say for 'em. let's snake 'im aboard and go on. we've lost enough time." one got on either side of ping and lifted him to his feet. they would have dragged him to the car had he not resisted. "leavee 'lone!" he shouted, squirming. "oh, snakes!" ground out the exasperated motorman. "ain't you fer the rapids?" "no wanchee go glan' lapids!" declared ping. "why my makee jump my wanchee go glan' lapids?" "that's so," said the conductor. "what did he jump from the car for if he wanted to go on with us? we'll leave him, jim. i thought, when i saw him hit the ground, we'd have to take him to the hospital, but he seems to be all right." jim, with an angry exclamation, let go of ping and hustled back to his place at the front end of the car. the conductor mounted the rear platform, and the starting bell jingled. as the passengers looked back, they saw the chinese boy attempt a war dance in his stocking feet, then suddenly cease and reach down to clasp his right shin. "he's got out o' some lunatic asylum," thought the conductor. "well, it's none o' my funeral," he added, and went into the car and began collecting fares. ping, when the car was out of sight, limped around collecting his scattered wardrobe. while he was about it, he was wondering, in his feeble way, why motor matt was chasing bill wily. probably, he reasoned, wily had cut up so rough with carl that matt had thought best to pursue the man and call him to account. ping was not in very good condition to take part in the chase, but if he could manage it, and proved of some assistance to motor matt, such a move would go far toward making his peace with the king of the motor boys. "my makee tly," groaned ping, limping to the place where the motor cycle had been left. with infinite patience he crawled up the steep slope. one of his legs felt as though it didn't belong to him--it seemed more like a cork leg than anything else, and was numb from ankle to thigh. but, somehow, he managed to get up the bank with it. pausing there, he called aloud for motor matt. his voice echoed weirdly in the scant timber of the rocky ground in front of him, and the shout brought no response. "my findee motol matt," declared the chinese lad to himself, as he limped into the timber. "my ketchee motol matt, mebby ketchee wily bill. woosh! hoop-a-la!" chapter vii. the house with the green shutters. while making his slow and painful way among the scrub oaks that grew out of the stony earth, ping was looking in all directions for matt and wily. he was listening, too, with all his ears. but he could neither see nor hear anything of the two for whom he was searching. "my findee!" he said, with dogged determination. "motol matt no chasee china boy, him chasee wily bill," and again he exulted. action was perhaps the best tonic he could have had. as he swung onward, the leg which did not seem to belong to him began to remind him, in no uncertain manner, that it was really his, and that he was responsible for its condition. a slow pain made itself manifest, running up the member like a streak of lightning and giving ping a "gone" feeling in the pit of his stomach. but he was "game." shutting his teeth on more than one groan, he kept resolutely on through the bleak timber, looking and listening. finally he came out on a rough crossroad, which he followed. five minutes of wabbling along this road brought him to the end of it--and across the end squatted a dingy white house with green shutters. the shutters were closed, and the house had the appearance of being deserted. here, ping felt, was the end of his trail. he was on the wrong track, and the question that pressed upon him was what he should do next. withdrawing to a clump of bushes, he sat down and gave the matter extended thought. who lived in the house? and was there any one at home? if there was any one in the place, would they talk with him and tell him whether they had seen matt or the side-show man? ping, unlike carl, made no boasts of being a "tedectif." he could blunder around and, maybe, stumble upon something worth while, but it would be purely a hit-and-miss performance. yes, he decided, he had better go to the house and see whether there was anybody there. barely had he made up his mind when, with amazing suddenness, bill wily rushed around the corner of the house, jammed a key into the door, and disappeared. he did not close the door behind him, being, as it seemed, in too much of a hurry to attend to such trifling matters. while ping was still wrenched with this startling exhibition, an even more astounding spectacle was wafted his way. motor matt followed wily around the house corner, paused an instant in front of the open door, then was swallowed up in the dark interior. ping had not called out, for amazement had held him speechless. the chinese boy had blundered in leaping from the street car, but, as it had chanced, that had been a blunder in the right direction. all the heathen gods of luck had been ranged on his side, too, when he followed the crossroad and went into communion with himself in the clump of bushes facing the green-shuttered house. in about two minutes, ping figured, matt would have bill wily by the heels. so it followed, if ping was to have any part in the capture, he would have to hurry. in the excitement of the moment he forgot his bruises, emerged from the undergrowth, and made his way rapidly toward the house. at the open door he stopped, thrust his head into the hallway, and used his ears. the silence was intense, and not the faintest sound was to be heard. there was something weirdly mysterious about this. with matt and wily both in the house, and each more or less hostile toward the other, there should have been a good deal of noise. a qualm raced through ping's nerves. there was something ominous about mysteries, and he had made it a rule to fight shy of ominous things. he did not consider them at all good for a chinaman's health, or his peace of mind. and a melican house, too, deserted and with closed shutters, offered dangers not lightly to be reckoned with. but ping, as yet, was motor matt's pard; and whereever motor matt led the way, then ping would be more of a hired man than a pard if he did not follow. shutting his teeth hard, and breathing only when necessary, the chinese boy crossed the threshold of the house with the green shutters. he was in a narrow hall that extended through the house from front to rear. a stairway led to the second floor, and two doors opened off to left and right. throttling his fears, ping moved toward the door on the right, his sandals scuffling over the uncarpeted floor. there was no furniture in the house, and the floor was bare. the swish of the sandals sent vague fears cantering through the little celestial, and he curled up his toes in order to wedge the soles of his footgear closer to the bottoms of his feet. the room he entered was dark. with a trembling hand he groped in his blouse for matches. had he lost his matches in taking that header from the street car? his fears in that respect were short-lived, for he quickly found half a dozen of the small fire-sticks. scratching one, he held it up and peered around. the room was empty--bare as a last year's bird's nest. going back into the hall, he examined a room on the opposite side. that one also was empty, and over all the emptiness arose a musty odor as of a building long untenanted. two more rooms remained to be examined on the first floor. one of these was the kitchen, and a quantity of soot had drifted down and lay in a heap on the floor. ping kept away from the soot, and was glad afterward that he had done so. across the hall was the last of the four rooms comprising the lower part of the house--dark, deserted, and musty as were the other three. failure to encounter danger of any visible sort had heartened ping wonderfully. "my makee go up stlails," he thought. "mebby my ketchee something top-side." he moved softly, but the stairs creaked and rasped under his sandals in spite of his wariness. there were four rooms upstairs, just as there were below, and in none of the dark chambers did he discover any trace of motor matt or of wily bill. ping was "stumped." the longer he thought of the mystery the more terrified he became. he believed in demons. ben ali, he knew, was possessed of them, for he had heard how the hindoo, with his eyes alone, had put people to sleep and made them do strange things while they dreamed. ping, naturally, had no idea that ben ali was in any way concerned with matt's pursuit of wily bill, but the chinaman's mind reverted to ben ali, and aurung zeeb, and dhondaram, three hindoos, all of whom, at various times, had formed a part of the big consolidated. had he dared, ping would have shouted matt's name at the top of his voice. but he was afraid. a dragon, spouting fire from its red mouth, and with a hundred claw-armed feet, might materialize and attack him, did he dare awake the echoes of that sombre house. turning swiftly away from the last room, ping got astride the banisters, slid to the bottom of the stairs, and ducked through the front door. the bright sunshine was never pleasanter to him than at that moment. he gulped down a few draughts of pure outside air and started off toward the bushes, bent upon a little solitary reflection. by a sudden thought, he whirled abruptly, softly drew the door shut, turned the key in the lock, and then slipped the key into his pocket. he had locked the door on the mysteries, and he hoped the fiends of darkness would respect the barrier until he could think of some way to exorcise them. once more in his original place among the bushes, ping watched the house warily and tried to approach the problem in a reasonable way. but it was not a question of reason. his investigation had developed facts that defied every logical process. what had become of motor matt? this was the point that disturbed the chinese boy most. if he could find motor matt, he would be content to leave the question of wily's whereabouts out of the count. abruptly ping had an idea. perhaps wily had rushed out of a rear door, and matt had followed him? during his investigations, ping had tried no doors or windows. getting to his feet, he made a circle around the house. there was one door in the rear, and only one. cautiously he approached and tried the knob. the door was locked. as for the windows, every one was tightly closed in with the green shutters. these discoveries left ping in a daze. after several minutes of bewilderment, he finally made up his mind to return to the show grounds, find mcglory, and acquaint him with the situation. mcglory would know what to do! then, there was the two-wheeled devil wagon motor matt had left at the foot of the bank, by the roadside. a hazy idea of riding the machine back to the show grounds passed through the chinaman's mind. to regain the road by the street-car track took time, but the distance was covered much more rapidly than ping had covered it coming the other way. strange to relate, the chinese boy's bruises caused him little concern. all his aches and pains were lost in the details of the inexplicable situation connected with the deserted house. while he was in the brush, at the foot of the bank, eying the motor cycle a bit dubiously, he heard a patter of hoofs, a grind of wheels, and a sound of voices. looking up, he saw burton's runabout at a stop. burton was in the buggy, and so was a young fellow ping had never seen before--and mcglory. the cowboy was just scrambling out of the vehicle and starting in the direction of the motor cycle. the sight of reinforcements caused all ping's wonder, and doubt, and apprehension to revive with redoubled force. he attempted to shout, but no words escaped his lips. rushing forth to meet mcglory, he waved his arms and pointed in the direction of the house with the green shutters. chapter viii. the pile of soot. ping was not many minutes recovering the use of his tongue. mcglory grabbed him and shook his powers of speech back into their normal condition. "where's motor matt?" cried mcglory. "my no savvy!" "how did you happen to be here?" "stleet cal." "what're you making a run from the show grounds for without saying a word to matt?" that was a point which ping did not care to reveal. he was not above being careless with the truth in a pinch, having been raised that way. but, while he might resort to a little harmless fiction with mcglory, he would have cut his tongue out before he would have fibbed to motor matt. "makee see wily bill ketchee cal," ping explained; "my ketchee same cal. follow wily bill. wily bill jump from cal. my jump, too. tumble all ovel load. wily bill lun fo' top-side bank. motol matt chasee. motol matt leavee gas hlorsee by bank. my follow, no findee." out of this pigeon english mcglory captured a few germs of sense. "what the nation was he following wily for?" demanded burton. "how did he know we wanted wily?" ping was still equal to the emergency. "dutchy boy havee low with wily bill," he explained. "that's right," went on burton; "you _were_ around during the row. i'd forgotten that. that may have been enough to put you on wily's trail, although i can't figure it out exactly. but you followed him, and then you followed matt when he ran after wily. they went up the bank and into the woods, you say?" "allee same." "then where did they go?" demanded mcglory. "makee tlacks fo' house with green blinds." "they made tracks for a house with green blinds? now we're getting at it. where's this house?" "othel side woods. my findee, you savvy; makee sit down, do heap big think. bymby, 'long come wily bill, unlock do', go in house. plenty soon, 'long come motol matt, go in house, too." ping became oppressed with the awe aroused by the event next to be described, and his voice sank into a husky whisper. "my makee tlacks inside, hunt evel place, no can find. house allee same empty. motol matt disappeal, vanish, makee go up in smoke. woosh! my plenty 'flaid." "what's he givin' us?" snorted burton. "he's talking through his hat, seems like, to me." "he's run into something that he can't cumtux," returned mcglory. "it's plain enough, though, that a house with green shutters is at the end of our trail. ping can take us there, and it will be up to us to do the rest." "say, young feller!" cried burton, standing up in the runabout and addressing the lad from the motor-car works. the latter was pulling his motor cycle out of the bushes and making ready to forge away on the rest of his "century" run. "well?" returned the youth, one leg over the saddle and ready to pedal off. "load that machine into the runabout and drive this rig back to the show grounds for me, will you?" requested burton. "i'm hungry to see this game through, and i can't leave the horse hitched in the road." "couldn't get the motor cycle into the buggy," was the answer. "anyhow, i guess i've helped you about as much as you could reasonably expect." "there's twenty coming to you," went on burton. "take the rig back and i'll make it thirty." "there's nothing coming to me. i told motor matt he could use the machine, and welcome. now that he's done with it, i'll go on with my run." the motor began to pop, and presently settled into a steady hum. a minute later the motor cycle and its rider were out of sight. just then, when it looked as though burton was to be permanently retired from the rest of the pursuit, a street car from the lake rattled to a halt, and carl and twomley dropped from the steps. "here's the englishman," muttered mcglory, without much enthusiasm. "and carl!" added burton. "he'll take the rig back for me, and the rest of us will start for the house with the green shutters." "vat's to pay?" clamored carl, running toward mcglory and ping. ping's confidence in carl, like carl's confidence in ping, was badly "shook." the chinese boy backed away. "here, carl," cried burton. "jump into the runabout and take it back to the grounds for me. i've got business with mcglory." "meppy i don'd got some pitzness mit mcglory, same as you," demurred carl. "vere iss modor matt?" "there's no time to palaver, carl," interposed mcglory. "take the rig back." when matt was away, mcglory was the boss. carl could not very well disobey such a pointblank order. much against his will, he climbed into the runabout. "my word!" cried twomley. "you seem to have discovered a clue of some sort. who's the chinaman?" "never mind that, now," returned barton. "come with us, twomley, and we'll tell you as we go along." "lead off, ping," ordered mcglory. carl, very much out of temper, shook his fist at burton, and then at ping. following this, he turned the rig the other way and rode moodily back toward the show grounds. ping, meanwhile, had climbed the bank, and was leading the party of investigators through the woods in the direction of the crossroad. as they went along, burton was telling twomley what ping had discovered. the information given by the chinaman was lacking in many important points, but its very incompleteness added to the tensity of the situation. when they came to the end of the crossroad, ping halted and indicated the house with the green shutters. "you say," remarked mcglory, giving the house a swift sizing, "that wily bill ran into the house?" "all same," answered ping. "and that pard matt trailed after him?" "all same." "then you went in, looked around, and couldn't see anything of either of them?" "my no findee." ping shivered. "when my makee come out, my lockee do'." he dug up the key and handed it to mcglory. "well," declared mcglory, "if motor matt and wily bill went in there, and didn't come out again, we'll find them." "if the chinaman didn't find them," struck in twomley, "they must have come out." "we'll soon know what's what," and the cowboy made his way to the door, thrust the key into the lock, and pushed the door ajar. the same dark, funereal silence that had greeted ping stared mcglory, burton, and twomley in the face. "my no findee," chattered ping, drawing back; "you no findee." mcglory pressed into the hall. "i'll take the rooms on the left," said he, "and the rest of you take the ones on the right. do your bushwhacking, and then, if you don't find anything, meet me at the foot of the stairs for a look overhead." nothing was found. the back door was securely bolted on the inside, and all the windows and blinds of the various lower windows firmly fastened. the situation upstairs was exactly the same. puzzled and bewildered, the party returned to the lower hall. "if ping's giving it to us straight," said mcglory, "neither matt nor wily got out of here. they couldn't have gone through the rear door or any of the windows, without leaving them open. and they couldn't have left by the front door because it was locked, and ping had the key." "they might have slipped out while ping was nosing around upstairs," suggested burton. "they'd have made some noise," objected the cowboy. "matt didn't have any call to keep quiet, and ping would surely have heard him. let's go back to the rear rooms again." burton and twomley had examined the kitchen. mcglory now looked that room over for himself. he was no more than two minutes in picking up a clue. the lighted match which he held close to the floor showed footprints outlined in black. he traced them to the pile of soot under the chimney. "here's where we find something!" he cried. "open those shutters, you fellows! we want light while we run out this trail of soot." twomley and burton unfastened the windows and pushed back the blinds on their screeching hinges. the sunlight, drifting into the room, brought out the trail with weird distinctness. "maybe the chinaman blundered into the soot and left the trail," hazarded burton. "my no makee tlail," declared ping. "no touchee soot." "there's only one of the chink, anyhow, pards," said mcglory, "and at least two pairs of feet walked through that pile of black stuff. one man wore shoes, and the other wore slippers. the slippers left marks a good deal like ping's sandals, but the marks are too big for ping. we'll find out a few things now, i reckon." with eyes bent sharply on the floor, the cowboy crossed the kitchen into the hall, and then moved along the hall to a spot under the stairs. the stairs were not enclosed, but sprang directly from the hall floor. in the angle formed by the flight and the floor the sooty trail vanished. "now what?" queried burton. "it looks like we were up in the air as much as ever." without replying, mcglory drew his knife from his pocket, opened it, and went down on his knees. chapter ix. matt meets an old acquaintance. matt's pursuit of the street car reminded him of his old motor-cycle days in arizona. the familiar hum of the twin cylinders between his knees carried his mind back to his ill-fated gasoline marvel, the _comet_, in honor of which he had named the aëroplane he was using with the show. the borrowed motor cycle had all the improvements, and the way it could run warmed the cockles of matt's heart. in less than a minute after leaving burton and the machine's owner, the king of the motor boys was shooting along the road like a bullet out of a gun. he was pursuing an electric car that ran at a high rate of speed, but the motor cycle must have been going five feet to the car's one. before matt fairly realized it he was within sight of the car. when he was close enough to be heard he began to call to the conductor to stop. the passengers heard him, as the row of heads thrust out from each side of the car conclusively proved; and the conductor also heard him, for he appeared on the rear platform. matt could see the conductor reaching for the bell rope. at the same time, wily bill rushed out on the back platform, took in the situation at a startled glance, and then dropped dexterously from the car at the track side. matt was so wrapped up in what wily bill was doing that ping's leap from the front platform escaped him entirely. wily bill scurried for the side of the road, and matt shut off the power and glided after him. "hold up there, wily!" cried matt. the "barker" paid no attention, but plunged up the bank and darted off into the timber. by that time motor matt's blood was up. he knew that a great deal depended on the capture of wily. if the "barker" could be made to tell when and how he had received that note in hindoostanee, a clue to the whereabouts of ben ali and the missing margaret manners would be secured. appreciating fully the exigencies of the case, matt sprang from the wheel and leaped up the bank. from the top of the rise he could see nothing of wily, but a crashing of the undergrowth told him plainly in which direction the man had gone. he was but an instant in taking after him. wily's actions were those of a guilty man; in fact, they inferred a deeper guilt than the mere possession of a note in hindoostanee would indicate. this, naturally, made the fellow's capture all the more important. for a quarter of a mile, matt judged, wily led him a chase through the woods. the "barker" had lost a little of his lead, but was keeping up his fierce pace with a good deal of vigor. then, suddenly, he began to double. matt would run on, looking and listening, only to find that there was no thrashing brush ahead. when he stopped, the sounds made by the fleeing fugitive had changed their direction, and the young motorist had to whirl and take another course. for some time this variation of the game of hare and hounds continued, matt drawing steadily nearer and nearer. at last matt caught his first glimpse of wily, since he had fled over the bank from the street car, at the rear of a house whose windows were closed with green shutters. wily stood out against the house wall, his form sharply defined, just as matt rushed from a fringe of hazels. the "barker" cast a look over his shoulder, gave vent to a panting exclamation, and darted around the end of the house. when matt reached the front of the structure, wily had vanished. the key to his disappearance was furnished by the wide-swinging front door, key still in the lock. besides, wily had not had time to go around the other side of the house, or to get into the woods again, so matt knew he must have entered the building. with scarcely a moment's hesitation, the king of the motor boys followed the fugitive. coming in out of the bright sunshine, the darkness of the shut-in hall was intense. as matt ran on past one of the doors leading to a room on the right a sinewy, turbaned form leaped out and a fist shot through the gloom, landing on the back of matt's head with tremendous force. matt staggered, regained his balance, and whirled around. his brain was reeling, but, looking toward the light that entered at the open door, he saw that the man who had struck him was not wily, as he had imagined, but a hindoo--none other than his old acquaintance, dhondaram. flinging out his arms, he leaped at the hindoo. then it was that wily completed the work that dhondaram had begun. another blow from behind, savagely given with all the "barker's" strength, caused matt to sink to his knees and then straighten out unconscious on the bare floor. "you saw what was goin' on?" asked wily breathlessly. "even so, sahib," answered the other, in a low tone. "i'm in luck to find you here. wasn't intendin' to blow in at this place till night--but any port in a storm. pick him up and let's get away somewhere." "the kitchen, sahib." between them, the unconscious king of the motor boys was lifted and carried into the kitchen. "hang it!" growled wily, floundering through the soot pile; "this won't do. there may be more after me. there's another place, under the stairs. sharp's the word, now. carry him there." matt was not bereft of his senses for long. there was too much steel and whalebone in his athletic body to keep him steeped in oblivion for any great length of time. the first thing he saw, when his eyes slowly opened, was a candle planted in the earth. he was lying, hands and feet bound and a cloth over his mouth, in a sort of pit. above him were the stringers and boards of a floor. a few moments passed while he was picking up the thread of events. while he was piecing details together, he heard a light footfall on the floor overhead, advancing and retreating. later there came the creaking of boards as of some one climbing a flight of stairs. wily and dhondaram, silent and motionless as statues, knelt in the earth, the fluttering gleam of the candle over them, and were listening to the footfalls with bated breath. from the manner of these two matt understood forthwith that the person in the upper part of the house must be one whom his captors feared. had it not been for the cloth that smothered his lips, matt would have shouted at the top of his voice and so have informed a possible friend where he was. inasmuch as he could neither move nor make an audible sound, the prisoner lay quiet. there was no cellar under this house with the green shutters, only a scooped-out place in the earth where possibly potatoes and other vegetables had been kept. presently the footsteps once more descended the stairs and could be heard leaving the house. wily turned to dhondaram with a deep breath of relief. "that was a close call," he muttered. "if we'd been a second later gettin' down here----" he bit off his words quickly. the door had slammed and the grating of a key could be heard. "_maskee!_" rumbled dhondaram. "the door has been closed and locked, sahib. you left the key in the door." "i was in too big a hurry to do anythin' else. as it was, motor matt came within one of layin' hands on me. see if he's got his wits back." on hands and knees the hindoo crept to matt's side and peered into his face. matt kept his eyes closed. "not yet, sahib," answered dhondaram. "it is well. he shall not waken in this world. the goddess kali----" dhondaram did not finish the sentence. he had referred to the malign hindoo deity invoked by thugs, and it may be he thought the talk unsuited to american ears. lifting himself on his knees, he drew from the breast of his jacket a glittering blade. the next moment wily bill had caught his arm. "chuck it!" he growled sternly. the hindoo turned his glittering eyes on the "barker." "sahib, you do not understood," said he, in a hissing voice. "i understood you're intendin' to use the knife," answered wily bill, "an' i won't have it. what d'you take me for? they don't hang people in this state, but i don't intend to pass the rest o' my days in the 'pen.' put that knife back where you took it from." "it is my duty to do this thing," flared the hindoo. "go on!" "ben ali saved my life in my own country, and i joined the show of burra burton because he told me. i tried to remove motor matt because he told me. that will pay my debt to ben ali. i failed in my work while i was with the show, but now----" "you're goin' to fail here, too. i've got a tender regard for my liberty, an' that's why i was runnin' away from the show grounds. there was a fracas turned on in the side-show tent, an' i got mixed up in it. durin' the row i lost a letter that came to me by mail--a letter that contained somethin' for you. ben ali, in my letter, said where he wanted to meet you. i don't know what he said in your letter, as that was in hindoostanee." dhondaram's eyes glowed expectantly, and he held out his hand. "the writing, sahib." "i haven't got it. didn't i just tell you it was lost? that's what made me bolt from the grounds. one of motor matt's friends got the thing, and when i tried to get it, burton took possession of it. if that letter's ever translated, i'll bet it contains stuff that would make the show too hot to hold me. i got away while there was time--but there wasn't any too much time, at that. if----" dhondaram drew back. "motor matt, sahib," muttered dhondaram, "he's listening to your talk." the prisoner had opened his eyes, and the keen glance of the hindoo had detected it. both dhondaram and wily turned their gaze on matt. chapter x. rescue! motor matt understood full well the gravity of his situation. never until that moment had he known the cause of the murderous dhondaram's hostility to him, but now it appeared that he was merely seeking to cancel a debt which he owed ben ali. bill wily's regard for his own welfare was all that stood between motor matt and the knife of the misguided hindoo. "give me that knife, dhondaram," ordered wily. "i will keep the knife, sahib," replied the other. "keep it, then, and be hanged to you," answered wily angrily, "but you'll settle with me if you try any knife tricks on the prisoner. i guess you rise to that, all right enough. take off the gag. i want to talk with motor matt." dhondaram bent down and removed the cloth. "i'm a 'barker,'" went on wily, still addressing the hindoo and making brief display of a revolver, "but here's somethin' that bites as well as barks. put away that knife." silently the hindoo returned the knife to his jacket and sank back on his heels. "what was you chasin' me for, motor matt?" asked wily. "why were you running away from me?" matt countered. "that's my business. you answer my question. i guess you'd better treat me white, 'cause it's me that keeps the hindoo from doin' a little knife work on you." "burton wanted you to tell him something about that letter," matt answered, making up his mind that a little of the truth would not be out of place. "oh, ho!" muttered wily. "does he think i can read hindoostanee?" "no. what he wanted to know was where you got the letter. the hindoos who have been connected with the show haven't turned out very well--they are all fugitives from the law, even dhondaram." not a ripple crossed the placid brown face of the hindoo; only his glittering eyes revealed the feeling that slumbered in the depths of his soul. "i guessed there'd be a stir about that letter," went on wily, "an' that's the reason i made up my mind to pull out. i'd had to explain, an' no matter what i'd said i'd have been fired, anyway. i used to live in grand rapids, and the home town was a good place for me to cut loose from the show, see?" "why are you treating me like this?" asked matt quietly. "couldn't help it. them kid pards o' yours was the cause o' the hull bloomin' twist-up!" wily bill swore savagely under his breath. "i'd like to take the kinks out o' that dutchman. he's too much on the buttinsky order. you chased after me, hung on, an' wouldn't let go. what else could i do but make myself safe?" "you didn't have to have dhondaram knock me down." "it wasn't him did that. he tried, but i had to finish the job. but i was treatin' you well, at that. i could have dropped down back of a clump o' bushes, there in the timber, and picked you off with this." wily touched his hip pocket. "but i didn't. that ain't my style. i'd rather have you like this an' come to a little agreement with you. as for dhondaram, i hadn't an idea he was in the house. i'd given him a key, an' i knew he might be here, but i wasn't expectin' him so soon. mebby it was lucky for me that he was around." "so that's it, eh?" commented matt sarcastically. "you've been meeting dhondaram, and helping him, when you knew he had been a prisoner of burton's and had escaped from the show train between jackson and kalamazoo. if a person helps a fugitive of the law to escape, he is guilty of a crime and can be punished for it." "there you hit it! but i was ducking out--and you wouldn't let me duck. i'm going to leave, in spite of you and burton. that's the worst i've done--talkin' with dhondaram and carryin' hindoostanee letters. but i'll not be jugged for that, or----" a hiss of warning came from dhondaram. at the same moment he leaned down and replaced the cloth over matt's lips. distant voices were heard, then the sound of a key rattling in a lock. "the fellow that was here before has brought some others," whispered wily. "hang the luck! i wish we had got out o' here while we had the chance. now, then, we're in for it an' no mistake." "listen, sahib!" frowned the hindoo. the voices that had been heard outside the house were now talking in the hall. it was impossible to distinguish words, but matt's heart leaped as he recognized mcglory's voice and burton's. they were looking for him! "they cannot find us down here, sahib," murmured the hindoo, his voice soft and purring as that of a tiger cat. "they will go as the first one went, then we can leave." this was wily's hope. breathlessly he listened to the sounds above. the footsteps and the voices faded away into the upper regions of the building. "now," muttered wily, "we might be able to dodge through the front door. they're all upstairs." dhondaram shook his head. "the door in the floor, sahib, cannot be found," he whispered reassuringly. "the _feringhis_ will not discover us. be patient." presently matt heard his friends returning to the lower floor, heard them enter the kitchen, heard the sound of lifted windows and opening blinds, marked the slow and steady advance from the kitchen into the hall, and along the hall to a point under the stairs. by then, even dhondaram had begun to take alarm. "they're at the trap!" gasped wily bill. "is there no way out of this hole, sahib?" demanded dhondaram through his teeth. "only by the way we came in. i lived in this house and i know all about it." dhondaram smashed the flat of his hand down over the light of the candle. the stygian blackness that reigned showed plainly the rim of daylight under the lifting door. "the revolver!" hissed dhondaram. "shoot, sahib!" "no, i tell you!" answered wily. "i'll have none o' that, or----" with a savage snarl, dhondaram hurled himself on wily bill in a furious effort to secure the revolver and fight off the approaching rescuers. the trapdoor had been thrown entirely back, and daylight was flooding the pit. the sounds of the struggle between the hindoo and wily bill reached the ears of those above. "here they are!" cried the voice of mcglory, and instantly he leaped downward. with a blow of his fist the hindoo staggered the cowboy, leaped upward, and gained the floor. "dhondaram!" yelled burton, who was just preparing to follow mcglory down under the floor. the word was hardly out of his lips before the showman was compelled to drop back to avoid a sweeping blow of the knife in the hindoo's hand. mcglory was looking for matt, and paid little attention to the hindoo. he found his pard with his groping hands, for his eyes were blinded by the sudden change from day to the darkness of the pit. "bully for you, pard!" exclaimed mcglory. "lashed hand and foot, or i'm a piegan! speak to me about this, will you? and gagged, too. sufferin' blazes, but you've had a time! there, how's that?" the cowboy pulled away the cloth. "wily's here," were matt's first words. "he and the hindoo had a fight, and----" "bother wily! it's you i'm after," and, with his open knife, mcglory slashed at the cords. "now we can look after wily." leaving that part of the work to his chum, matt leaped upward and climbed over the edge of the floor. burton was running toward one of the front rooms. "where's the hindoo?" cried matt. "the englishman tagged him in here, after heading him off at the door," panted burton. "i always knew that thug was a killer, and if i hadn't been quick he'd have knifed me." a smash of glass came from the front room and two of the blinds were smashed open. the light afforded by this gave matt and burton a view of a desperate struggle in which the attaché of the british legation was proving himself a whole man, in every sense of the word. unarmed, and with every disregard for his personal danger, twomley had set upon the hindoo. dhondaram's knife had ripped twomley's coat and brought a stain of red, but the englishman had both hands around the hindoo's throat, and they were flinging here and there around the room. the smash of glass and the crash of the blinds had been caused by dhondaram falling heavily against one of the windows. then suddenly, before either matt or burton could go to his aid, twomley hurled his antagonist from him with terrific force. the hindoo fell sprawling against the wall, and dropped stunned to the floor. his knife slipped from his hand, and burton kicked it aside while he and matt threw themselves upon the supine figure. "take his turban," said matt, "and bind his hands with it." the turban was merely a long strip of twisted cloth, and there were two or three yards of it--enough for both his wrists and ankles. barely was the tying finished when mcglory drove wily into the room with his own six-shooter. "talk about this, friends," laughed mcglory. "wily bill fights with the hindoo, and has the tuck about all taken out of him. i snatch his revolver, and then we come out from under the floor, wily in the lead and acting real peaceable. you've caught dhondaram, too. everything's lovely, eh?" "all serene," answered the englishman. he had removed his coat and was binding his handkerchief about his arm. "twomley captured dhondaram, joe," said matt, "and did it alone." "getting stabbed for his pains," added burton. "a scratch," was twomley's cool response. "how could you expect me to do a thing like that without getting a nick or two? a pretty show altogether. and it might have been a good deal worse." chapter xi. bill wily repents. mcglory motioned wily to take a seat on the floor, near dhondaram, and then turned toward twomley. "so you put the kibosh on our brown friend all by yourself, did you?" he asked. "it wasn't much," was the diffident answer. "i know these hindoos somewhat." "you're the clear quill," said mcglory, "and i've got a different estimate of you. what do you think?" he added to burton. "they had my pard down in the spud cellar, covered with ropes and gagged." "nice how-d'ye-do!" growled burton. "what sort of a way is that to act, bill wily?" and he flashed a look of anger and contempt at the "barker." "i've made a holy show of myself," mumbled bill wily. "that comes of gettin' confidential with these here chocolate-colored crooks. they're no good." "what do you think of yourself, hey?" "not much, burton, an' that's a fact. i'm down and out, and just because i wanted to shake your show an' not have any trouble. what a lot of excitement over nothin' at all!" "fancy that!" remarked twomley, mildly surprised. "i guess the man doesn't know the true state of affairs." "he'll know everything before we're done with him," snapped burton. "you're not goin' to bear down too hard on me, are you, burton?" pleaded wily. "why shouldn't i?" "what've i done?" "i can't tell that till i hear what happened to motor matt. if these disgraceful proceedings get out, it will be a black eye for the show." boss burton was a queer fish. he had always a high regard for carrying out every promise he made in his show "paper," and was also solicitous about the good name of the big consolidated; at the same time, he had done a number of things which gave matt a poor opinion of his character. matt, taking advantage of the opening afforded him, told what had happened after he had left burton on the motor cycle. the rough treatment he had received brought scowls to the faces of mcglory and burton. "that hindoo might have knifed you, and all on account of wily there!" breathed the showman. "but he didn't," returned matt, "and that was on account of wily, too. keep that in mind, burton." "your head, pard," said the cowboy solicitously. "you've had a couple of good hard raps, and i'll bet that block of yours feels as big as a barrel." "i'm like twomley," smiled matt, "and couldn't expect to come through such a tussle without a few marks. but it's nothing serious. another thing, burton," he added, turning to the showman, "just recollect that, if wily wanted to, he could have used that thing joe has in his hand. but he wouldn't, and he fought with dhondaram rather than let him use it." "wily hadn't the nerve," commented burton. "he's in the parlor class when it comes to strong-arm work. he's more of a shell worker and a confidence man." "don't be rough, burton," begged wily bill. "what've you got to say for yourself?" "i'm blamed sorry things turned out like they did. that's all." "just how sorry are you? sorry enough to make a clean breast of everything?" "that depends on what'll happen to me. you let the ticket man off when he and dhondaram tried to loot the jackson proceeds. i didn't do half as much as him." "tell me what you've done, and then i'll tell you what i'm goin' to do," said burton. "i knew ben ali pretty well when he was with the show," returned wily, "but he didn't put it up with _me_ to help steal the ticket-wagon money. i'm not makin' such a terrible sight as spieler for that side-show outfit, and when i get a letter in kalamazoo, inclosin' another in hindoostanee and askin' me to deliver same, what am i goin' to do? that letter contained a money order for ten dollars." "and it was from ben ali?" asked motor matt. wily nodded. "we got into kalamazoo about three in the morning," proceeded wily bill, "and when i dropped off the train, dhondaram stepped out from between a couple o' box cars----" "it was the night we left jackson that we had dhondaram lashed and lying in the aisle of the sleeper on section two of the show train," interrupted burton. "he got loose and skipped. i fired a shot at him, but he jumped off the train. how could he have done that and then shown up in kalamazoo the morning we got there?" the showman was trying to pick flaws in wily's narrative, but the "barker" was equal to the emergency. "for the reason, burton, that he didn't jump off the train. dhondaram rode the platform, and now and then he dodged down on the bumpers when the train men came too close. as i say, he met me as i dropped off, and we had a bit of a chin together." "why didn't you grab him," demanded burton, "and turn him over to me?" "that's where i was lame, i expect, but you forget i was a friend of ben ali's, and dhondaram was also a friend. that made a sort of hitch between us. then, too, dhondaram told me he was expecting word from ben ali in my care. i hadn't received any word, and i told him so. dhondaram said that i would get a letter, sooner or later, and that he'd like to meet me somewhere near grand rapids. that's when i told him about this house and gave him one of my keys to it." "what have you got to do with this house?" queried burton. "i happen to own it," was the surprising answer. "it ain't worth much, an' it's been condemned by a railroad that intends runnin' a line of rails and ties right over the place where it stands. for that reason it's closed up. i'm to get twelve hundred dollars for the property any day now. why," and wily bill looked around, "when i was a kid i used to live here. when the folks died i rented the house an' took to roamin' around. it was a good place to meet dhondaram and give him a letter if there was any come from ben ali. i wasn't expectin', though, to call here before night. the letter from ben ali reached me in kalamazoo in the afternoon, at a time when dhondaram must have been travelin' north." "what did you do with your part of the letter?" wily's profession of repentance seemed to be sincere, and burton and matt were doing their utmost to find out everything he was able to tell. dhondaram, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, glared at wily fixedly while he talked. the savage menace of the hindoo's look, however, seemed to make not the slightest impression on the "barker." "i tore up my part o' the letter, burton," replied wily. "didn't think it best to carry it around. if i'd torn up dhondaram's part, too, i guess i'd have been a whole lot better off." "i guess you would," agreed the showman dryly. "what had ben ali to say to you?" "he told me where he wanted dhondaram to meet him. you see, ben ali's been busy, an' hasn't been payin' much attention to what's been goin' on in the show." "by jove," put in twomley, "i should say he had been busy." "ben ali didn't know dhondaram had cooked his goose, so far as the show was concerned, in jackson, the same day he joined on." "where did ben ali send his letter from?" inquired matt. "lafayette." "and where does he want to meet dhondaram?" "five miles west of the rapids, on the wagon road to elgin. there's an openin' in the woods, somewhere there, and ben ali wants dhondaram to join him at the place to-morrow morning. i don't know what's up, but i guess it's somethin' mighty important for the hindoos." "does ben ali know about this house of yours?" "not a thing. i never told him. i guess i was foolish to jump off the car and run over here, but the ruction in the side show and the loss o' that hindoostanee letter sure got me on the run. i thought mebby, if i couldn't dodge motor matt in the woods, i could get him somewhere and have a talk with him that would let me out. but things didn't come out as i wanted. i couldn't shake him in the timber, so i rushed for the house. dhondaram was here, ahead o' schedule, an' he complicated matters a-considerable." "do you think," asked matt, "that we could go to that place on the elgin road and meet ben ali instead of letting dhondaram do it?" twomley started, for he instantly caught matt's idea. dhondaram likewise showed much concern, and undoubtedly he surmised what was at the back of the young motorist's head. "i don't think you could," replied wily. "ben ali ain't nobody's fool, and he'll have the road watched to see that only the right party comes. if the wrong party comes, then ben ali, more'n likely, 'll fade out of the oak openin'. you can't get there any way by road without ben ali findin' out just who's after him. that's my notion." "suppose we should come in on him from both sides at once?" suggested burton. "then he'd slide out between you. oh, he's a slippery proposition, that boy!" twomley nodded affirmatively. "he speaks the truth," he averred. "a man who can do what ben ali has done is a rogue of the first water." "there's a way to get at him," said matt confidently. "here, in a thickly populated country, that scoundrel can't have things his own way." "he's takin' chances," put in wily, "but that's his stock in trade--takin' chances an' throwin' in a little hypnotism now an' then. why he's so particular about meetin' dhondaram is what gets me." "he needs money," said burton sarcastically, "and he has to run a few risks to get it." "i've got a plan," said matt, starting toward the door. "what is it?" asked burton and mcglory. matt turned around in the doorway and cast a suggestive glance at wily and dhondaram. "i'll not go into it now," said he, "but it all depends on the truthfulness of bill wily. if wily has given us a straight story, then the plan will work. if it does, then i shall insist that wily be allowed to go free, without any punishment for what he has done. if the plan doesn't succeed, and ben ali is not out on the elgin road to-morrow morning, i think wily can be put through for the work he has done here in this old house." "i'm willin' to leave it that way," said wily, "providin' you're careful how you come onto ben ali, so as not to scare him away, an' providin' boss burton gives me his word to back up motor matt's." "i'm in on the deal," declared burton. "both wily and dhondaram will have to be left here under suitable guard until after the plan is executed," continued matt. "count me in as one of the guard," spoke up twomley, lighting a cigarette, "but send over some food and something to sit on. and," he finished, pointing to the weapon in the cowboy's hand, "mr. mcglory might lend me that." "mcglory will stay and help you with your guard duty," said matt. "i'll have to hurry off now. i suppose ping and carl are at the show grounds and are looking after the aëroplane?" "ping!" exclaimed mcglory, looking around. "why, where the nation is he? he was the one who brought us here, and i haven't thought of him until this minute. but carl's at the grounds, matt. anyhow, one of the canvasmen is on duty at the aëroplane's berth." "don't fret about the machine," reassured burton. "i'm going right back to the grounds and i'll look after it personally." "just a minute, gents," called wily. "how did you fellows know we were under the floor." "you walked in the soot," laughed burton derisively. "mcglory can tell you all about that." thereupon he and motor matt left the room. they passed the trap in the hall floor, and matt observed that it was flush with the boards and difficult to locate for any one who did not know it was there. "i guess the trouble i had here, burton," remarked matt, as he and the showman passed through the front door, "will turn out to be a pretty good thing, after all." "not for ben ali," returned burton, "if he is caught and turned over to twomley." "i was thinking of margaret manners," said matt. chapter xii. matt lays his plans. on the way through the woods and back to the road by the car track, motor matt was extremely thoughtful. by ben ali's cleverness in getting some white man to represent the agent of the british ambassador, the hindoo had succeeded in luring his niece from the home of the english woman in whose care the girl had been left. once this was accomplished, it was easy to guess how the artful hindoo had proceeded. miss manners had been a hypnotic subject for so long that it was useless for her to attempt to fight against the black magic of her rascally uncle. he had but to catch her eye and snap his fingers, and the girl would be utterly in his power. to fight such a man as ben ali called for ways and means at once bold and wary. he was not to be easily snared. "you're as mum as an oyster," grunted burton, as they neared the road. "i've spoken to you half a dozen times, and you didn't seem to hear me. come back to earth now, and tell me what's on your mind?" "i'll tell you later, burton," laughed matt. "i've got a hard problem to solve, and i don't want to say anything about it until it's all worked out." "from what you said at that house with the green shutters, i take it you're not going back to the show with me?" "no." "be back there in time to take the aëroplane aloft at six-thirty? the wind's down, and you can pull off the trick." "there'll be no aëroplane flight this afternoon, burton. i have more important matters to attend to." burton began to bristle. "by jerry," he cried, "what am i giving you your salary for? we've missed one ascension to-day, and the people will be wild if we don't have one this afternoon." "then," answered matt, "tell them that we'll give an aëroplane performance for the whole of grand rapids to-morrow. that ought to satisfy them, and i know you'll make a lot of capital out of it." burton stopped stock-still and stared. "you're crazy?" he bluntly inquired. "to-morrow's sunday, and i've never yet been able to get you to make an ascension on sunday. backsliding, eh?" "for this one time," said matt. "i'm not doing this for the benefit of your show, burton, but because, as i size the matter up now, there's nothing else to be done." "whew!" whistled the showman, "you're about the biggest conundrum, now and then, that i ever tackled. when'll you get back to the grounds?" "this evening, some time." "hunt for me the minute you get there, and let me know what's up." they found ping waiting for them in the road. he was a disconsolate-looking chinaman, and ran up to matt the moment he slipped down the steep bank. "you heap mad with ping, huh?" the chinese boy chattered. "you know him makee shoot loman candle, play plenty hob with side show? woosh! my velly bad china boy." matt laughed. that laugh caused ping to brighten. "i'll have to forgive you this once, ping," said matt. "a whole lot of good has resulted from that flare-up in the side-show tent. but i don't like practical jokes--you know that. get on the car and go back to the grounds with burton. as for the roman-candle business, we'll talk about that later." "you no pullee pin on china boy?" faltered ping. "no. you make your peace with carl, that's all." "hoop-a-la!" said ping, and limped aboard an electric car that burton had flagged. matt caught a car going the other way, and, as soon as he reached monroe street, hurried to the nearest automobile garage, bent upon making the most of the daylight that remained. he hired a car and a driver who knew the city. it was a small roadster, and matt had the driver take him beyond the city limits and out for five miles on the elgin road. they passed through a small oak opening, which looked as though it might be the place where ben ali was to meet his crony, dhondaram. "this will be far enough," said matt. "now, turn around and take us back to town." the king of the motor boys gave careful attention to all the landmarks, going both ways. returning, dusk had begun to fall, and his survey could not be as comprehensive as the one made on the outward trip. however, he was abundantly satisfied with the information he had acquired. when they reached the garage, matt bargained with the proprietor for a powerful touring car, with the same driver who had already been with him, to be at the show grounds at reid's lake at eight o'clock the following morning. after that, he dropped in at a restaurant and had a good meal, then boarded a car for the lake, and rode back to the grounds with a crowd of people who were going to the evening performance of the show. he had a good deal of amusement listening to the disappointed expressions of the people regarding the failure of burton to have any aëroplane flights. mixed up in the talk were a number of complimentary references to motor matt and his chums. these, so far as they applied to himself, the king of the motor boys tried not to hear. but, nevertheless, they caused a glow of satisfaction to mount to his face. it was certainly pleasant to know how his efforts in the line of duty had struck a popular chord. that wild half-hour in the air, over jackson, when matt found his batteries short-circuited by a coiling cobra, had been exploited through the press. these, while arousing the popular admiration, only made the general disappointment more keen because of the failure of the saturday flights at reid's lake. when matt got off the car at the lake, he made his way to the brilliantly lighted show grounds, and repaired immediately to the calliope tent. burton was there, smoking a cigar and nervously walking back and forth in front of the canvas-covered calliope. "the people are pulling me all to pieces, matt," he cried the moment the king of the motor boys entered the tent. "they're saying we could just as well have had a flight to-night, that i'm not living up to my promises, and all that. by jerry, it hurts!" "let it be announced in the circus tent," said matt, "that there'll be a flight to-morrow morning at nine o'clock--not for exhibition purposes, as motor matt doesn't give a performance on sunday--and that all who wish to can see it." "good!" declared burton. "i guess that'll catch them. but what are you making the flight for, if not to please the people?" "for the purpose of backcapping ben ali, capturing him, and finding out where he has taken margaret manners." burton whirled around and gave matt a steady look. "what have you got up your sleeve?" he demanded curtly. "are you going to try that, all alone, in the _comet_?" "not all alone. you, and twomley, and joe are going to help. send harris and another trusty man over to that house with the green shutters, will you, and have them relieve the englishman and mcglory. i want them here to talk with them." harris was burton's brother-in-law, and a thoroughly reliable man in every respect. "i've already sent them supper, a lantern, and a couple of chairs," said burton, "but it seems to me all foolishness to hold the prisoners in the house. why not send 'em to jail, where they belong?" "because wily may not belong in jail, and because, if dhondaram is taken there to-night, ben ali might hear of it and not present himself in that oak opening on the elgin road to-morrow." "can't you tell me what you're going to do?" "not till twomley and joe get here." with that, matt dropped down on a cot, at one side of the tent, and tried to get a little rest. he was used to the band, and to the many other sounds that characterized a show just preceding a performance, and these did not bother him; but his head! that had suddenly begun to remind him that it had been badly treated during the afternoon. chapter xiii. motor car and aeroplane. it was about nine o'clock in the evening when matt was awakened by the arrival of mcglory and twomley. burton, curious and eager, came into the calliope tent with them. "i'll tell you what my plan is," said matt, sitting up on the edge of the cot, "and then you can all go to bed and get a good night's rest. ben ali is a crafty scoundrel, and it is necessary for us to capture him in order to find out what he has done with miss manners." "that's the point," approved twomley. "if we can't get hold of ben ali, the secret service men will have a bally time locating the girl." "i'm inclined to think that bill wily told nothing but the truth," proceeded matt. "you never can tell about wily," struck in burton. "it's because he's so shifty and unreliable that they call him wily bill. i wouldn't bank too much on what he says." "it's neck or nothing with him," suggested twomley. "he has everything to lose by not telling the truth, and i believe the fellow appreciates that fact." "you can gamble a blue stack he does!" declared mcglory. "did you see the look dhondaram gave him while he was handing us that long palaver? if the hindoo ever gets foot-loose, i wouldn't stand in wily's shoes for a bushel of pesos." "to my mind," said matt, "the fact that dhondaram was in that house proves the truth of wily's story. well, true or false, my whole plan is built up on what the 'barker' told us. we're to assume that ben ali will be in that oak opening, five miles from grand rapids on the elgin road." "who knows whether there's an opening there or not?" asked burton. when the showman once lost confidence in a man, he put no trust in anything the man might do or say. "the opening is there," said matt. "i went out in an automobile and saw it for myself." "ah! so that's what you passed up the afternoon flight for, eh?" "partly," answered matt. "now, let us suppose that ben ali is in that opening to-morrow, waiting for dhondaram to arrive with money which ben ali thinks he has stolen. quite likely the hindoo will have some one with him--perhaps the old ticket man whom you discharged, burton, and perhaps aurung zeeb. this ticket man has played the part of the agent representing the british ambassador in turning that trick in lafayette----" "sufferin' traitors!" chanted mcglory. "i've a hunch, pard, your finger's on the right button." "so," pursued matt, "it is fair to assume that ben ali has some one to watch the elgin road in the vicinity of the oak opening. if he is warned that any suspicious persons are approaching, the hindoo will slide away snakelike and dodge pursuit." twomley nodded. "you're a fair daisy, motor matt, in placing the situation squarely in front of us. by jove, it looks like a hard nut to crack." "matt will crack it," averred mcglory. "listen, now, to how he proposes to do it." "how are you going about it?" inquired burton impatiently. "i've had this on my mind ever since you and i left the house with the green shutters, and i can't tell how nervous you make me hanging fire about it. seems like a mighty simple thing to go out in the woods, meet a fellow where he intends to be, and nab him." "not so deuced simple as you suppose, mr. burton," returned twomley, "when you consider the character of the man, and his ability to make passes, look at you, and give you your ticket to the land of nod." "we're going to work out this problem by motor car and aëroplane," said matt. "aëroplane!" exclaimed mcglory. "that means you and me, pard." "the motor car for you, joe," smiled matt. "you and twomley, and burton will go along the elgin road in that." "what's the good?" demurred burton. "you all seem to think it a cinch that the car will be seen, and that ben ali will get out of the way." "you'll lag behind, you and your car," continued matt, "and you'll let me and the aëroplane move ahead. i'll keep over the road as well as i can, and you can see me. when i sight our quarry i'll descend; then you can put on all speed and come up." "the aëroplane will be a dead give-away!" asserted burton. "ben ali and his outposts will see that as quick, or quicker, than they will the automobile." "suppose ben ali sees only one man on the machine, and thinks that the man is dhondaram?" asked matt. "would he run, then?" there was a silence, a startled silence, while the words of the young motorist were being pondered by his listeners. "how'll ben ali think dhondaram is running the _comet_, pard?" queried mcglory. "because the man on the aëroplane will not look very much like motor matt, and _will_ look a little like a hindoo." "you're going to make up for the part?" "it won't be much of a make-up. a white robe over my ordinary clothes will do." "but your face----" "in the air and at a distance, my face won't tell against the deception. when the _comet_ has landed in the opening, then it will be ben ali and me for it--with an automobile full of reinforcements rushing to the scene." "it sounds good," said mcglory thoughtfully. "here's something," observed twomley, who had a clear head and a quick brain. "ben ali can think for himself. won't he think it queer that dhondaram is navigating the flying machine? dhondaram, i make no doubt, is highly gifted, but will ben ali credit him with skill enough to operate the aëroplane?" "he may not," admitted matt; "still, if ben ali sees the machine, and a man in it who looks like dhondaram, even if ben ali doubts he'll hold his ground in order to make sure. ben ali won't run from one man. besides, he's expecting dhondaram. that's a weighty point." "i believe it will work," said twomley. "at any rate, it will hold ben ali in the opening until the automobile has a chance to come close. then the scoundrel is ours, no matter what he tries to do. by jove, i like the idea!" "another thing," spoke up mcglory. "if ben ali smells a rat and tries to make a run, matt can keep over him and follow him." "hardly that, joe," returned matt. "the woods are pretty thick along the elgin road, and you know how big the top of a tree looks when you're gazing down on it. besides, if there's any wind, the _comet_ is going to be a fair-sized handful to take care of." "there you are," said burton. "how do you know the opening is big enough for you to come down in? it won't do," and something akin to panic took hold of the showman, "to damage the aëroplane." "oh, go off somewhere, burton, and wring out your wet blanket," growled mcglory. "you're tryin' to throw it over everything." "we've got to get a look at this business from every angle," said burton doggedly. "well, be easy about the oak opening," came from matt. "it's large enough to alight in and to start from. if there's only a little wind, there'll be no danger." the englishman reached over and took matt's hand. "allow me," said he, with a solemn handshake. "win or lose, my bucko, you have my admiration." matt flushed. "why," said he, "this is all talk, as yet, twomley." "it's the sort of talk, my lad, that precedes notable achievements. nine-tenths of all the great work that's done owes more to the head than to the hands. what about the automobile?" "that will be here at eight o'clock in the morning." "you even thought of that! i suppose i'll have to be catching a car for town." twomley got up and flung away the remains of a cigarette. "you'd better stay here," suggested matt. "there's an extra cot behind the calliope, and i'm sure burton will give you your breakfast in the morning." twomley cast a glance around him. the odor from the animal tent, of which the calliope house was only a lean-to, was strong and disquieting. a lantern, tied to one of the tent poles, shed a murky light over the litter of buckets and ropes that strewed the tent floor. matt had made ready for bed by kicking off his shoes and removing his coat and hat. it was all very primitive. in washington twomley looked as though he might have been of a fastidious nature. but, whatever he was at washington, he was "game" at reid's lake. "go you," said he briefly. "just where is that cot, my dear sir?" mcglory dragged it out for him and opened it up. "i'll pull it away from the wall of the animal top," said the cowboy. "rajah, the bad elephant, is just on the other side of that piece of canvas, and he has the habit of snooping around in here with his trunk." "i don't fancy rajah will bother me," and twomley shucked out of his low patent leathers. "i could almost make a pard out of you," remarked mcglory. "nice work you've mapped out for sunday," was burton's sly fling as he paused at the door on his way out. "motor matt, who refused to make flights on sunday for me for an extra hundred a week, lays out to pull off a go like this! well, i'm surprised." "fate is no respecter of the calendar, burton," matt replied, with some show of feeling. "i'll work all day to-morrow if i can accomplish anything for margaret manners." "shake again," said the attaché. chapter xiv. the oak opening. reid's lake was a popular resort, and a large crowd rendezvoused there on sundays and holidays. the coming of the crowd, however, had shifted to the beginning of the day, so that the start of the aëroplane might be witnessed. owing to burton's enterprise, an "extra" of one of the evening dailies was on the grand rapids streets at nine in the evening, announcing, in large type, that boss burton, regretting the disappointment caused the grand rapids people because of the failure of the aëroplane ascensions on the first day of the show, was glad to announce that the king of the motor boys would take his famous machine aloft on the following morning at nine o'clock. this was one of the little things burton could do, on occasion, which jarred on matt's nerves. he made it appear in the news columns as though matt was making the ascension because burton had so willed it, and as though the showman had willed it because of the disappointment which had been caused the great rapids people on the first day of the show. when matt discovered this, it was too late to remedy it. he had the satisfaction, however, of telling burton just what he thought. extra cars were put on the run between town and the lake to accommodate the crowds. and the people came not only in the street cars, but also in carriages, wagons, and automobiles. carl and ping had slept under the lower wings of the _comet_, as was their usual custom when the weather was at all propitious, and to the casual observer it would have looked as though the roman-candle incident had been entirely forgotten. matt was early at the machine, looking it over carefully and making sure that everything was in readiness. the _comet_, he found, had never been in better trim for work than she was that morning. then, too, such a day for aëroplane flying could not have been surpassed. there was not enough wind stirring to flutter the banners on the tent tops. it was necessary for mcglory, twomley, and burton to get away somewhat in advance of matt, and to take up a position beyond the outskirts of the city on the elgin road. at sharp eight-forty-five the motor car got away. mcglory was usually in charge of the start during the aëroplane flights, but now matt placed carl in command. the importance of the position filled carl with glory, and was correspondingly depressing to ping, who really knew more about the aëroplane than carl could have learned in a hundred years. carl and ping were assisted by half a dozen stout canvasmen. before matt took his seat, to the wonder of the crowd pressing against the guard ropes, he shook out a white robe and arranged it about him in such a manner as to leave his arms perfectly clear, but covering every part of his clothing. after that he stepped on the footboard and dropped down in front of the motor. the canvasmen, divided by carl into two groups of three each, were placed behind the wings. "all ready, carl!" called matt. "retty it iss!" shouted carl. the motor started merrily, the bicycle wheels began to turn, and the canvasmen to push. slowly the _comet_ gathered headway. faster and faster it went, leaving the canvasmen behind; then, like a great bird, it soared into the air, followed by wild cheering. a vagrant puff of wind struck the planes, just over the concert garden, and only quick work on the part of the intrepid young motorist averted a disaster. gathering headway under the impetus of the thrashing propeller, the aëroplane darted upward into the blue and began reaching out toward the city. matt, while manipulating the aëroplane, had little time for sights and scenes below him. he was obliged to keep every faculty riveted on his work. now and again, however, as he took his bearings and laid his course, he glimpsed the staring people in the roadways and on rooftops. some of these spectators had opera glasses and binoculars. over the flat roofs of the city he whirled, cheered almost continuously. the motor had never worked better. everything depended on the motor. if the power had happened to fail, matt could have glided harmlessly down the airy slope to earth--providing the city afforded him a good clear space in which to alight. a street zigzagged with telegraph, and telephone, and electric light wires was not such a place. passing the close-packed buildings of the business section, matt gained the residence districts, and held on in a straight line for the elgin road. he watched his landmarks, and, while they looked differently to him from aloft than they did from the ground, he knew he was going right when he saw the waiting automobile. mcglory was standing up and waving his hat. throwing full speed into the propeller, matt set the automobile a fifty-mile pace. at such a speed only a few minutes were necessary to carry the flying machine close to the oak opening where ben ali was to be in waiting for dhondaram. peering forward and downward, matt guided and manoeuvred the _comet_ by sense of touch alone, watching eagerly the while for the great gap in the woods. finally he saw it, and what he glimpsed in the centre of the cleared space--etched into his brain as by the instantaneous operation of a photographic lens--was startling, to say the least. the irregular circle of the opening was crossed through its centre by the hard, level road. off to one side of the road were the dying embers of a fire, and near the fire lay a bundle, on which a young woman was sitting, her head bowed dejectedly. a turbaned figure stood at a distance from the girl--the figure covered with a red robe and its brown, staring face uplifted. this was ben ali. and the girl--who was she? was it possible, _could_ it be possible, that the girl was margaret manners? a wild hope leaped in motor matt's breast. ben ali leaned on a club, leaned and watched with never a move toward running away. probably he was speculating as to whether his confederate, dhondaram, had learned to operate the air craft. matt gave ben ali scant time to come to a conclusion. quick work was now in order, and the _comet_ ducked downward and slid through the air with slowing motor. guided by a true, steady hand, the wheels brushed the roadway, then began to turn as the weight of the machine rested more heavily upon them. a short run of a dozen feet brought the _comet_ to a stop. ben ali had not stirred from the place where matt had first seen him standing. gathering the white robe about him, motor matt stepped hurriedly to the ground and ran toward ben ali. the hindoo, staring serpent-like, recoiled, his red robe falling away slightly as his hands raised the club. "ben ali," cried the king of the motor boys, "i have caught you at another of your tricks. did you think i was dhondaram? dhondaram is a prisoner, and you will soon join him in jail." there followed a tense moment, during which ben ali's eyes glowed and scintillated with their marvelous powers, and his hands tightened on the bludgeon. it was not a time to delay matters, and the young motorist made ready for desperate work against the arrival of the automobile. "_maskee!_" cried the astounded hindoo, as motor matt leaped at him. ben ali's amazement appeared to hold him paralyzed for the moment. it was not until matt had caught the club that he aroused himself and began vigorous resistance. every instant matt expected the automobile to come whirling to the spot with his friends. he had the club, but ben ali, with a tigrish spring, seized him about the throat and clung to him like a leech, and all the while ben ali's eyes were rolling about in a way that was horrible to behold. matt dropped the club to catch at the hindoo's straining arms. he felt a wave of weakness sweep through him, while the flashing eyes continued to exercise their baneful spell. was he being hypnotized in spite of himself? he had read that this was impossible, and that no man could be put in a state of hypnosis against his will. yet what did that strange weakness mean? a tremor ran through matt's body. he tried to call aloud, but his lips framed voiceless words. by degrees he felt himself growing weaker and weaker, yielding more and more to the spell of the baneful orbs that sought his undoing. then, when it seemed as though he was about to come entirely under ben ali's power, there fell a blow--sudden, quick, and accompanied by a wild, feminine cry. ben ali's tense fingers relaxed their grip, his form slumped forward, and matt stood staring at the girl. she was margaret manners, there was not the least doubt of that. in order to save him, the girl had seized the bludgeon, had approached her uncle from behind, and struck him down. the girl's face was wild with grief, but there was a burning resolution in the eyes. "i had to!" she cried hysterically. "i had to do that in order to save you. it was the spell, the spell of the eyes! he would have made you his victim, motor matt, just as certainly as he has worked his will with me! oh, let us get away from here! quick!" in a frenzy of fear she cast aside the club and seized his arm with both hands. "there are others--aurung zeeb is one. they are armed, and they will soon be here." matt dashed a hand across his forehead, as though to free his brain from some frightful dream. "there are others, you say?" he gasped. "yes, yes," she answered distractedly. "where?" "watching the road! they---- ah, too late, too late!" matt whirled and looked across the oak opening. from the side lying nearest the town came a running figure. it was aurung zeeb. where was the automobile? matt could not hear it, and there was now no time to wait. the girl had dropped to her knees and thrown her hands over her face. "come!" he called, bending down and catching her by the arm. "we can get away from here. be brave, and trust to me!" the girl started up, and he ran with her toward the aëroplane. as they drew near the machine, matt saw another hindoo coming into the opening along the other road. chapter xv. aeroplane wins! matt supposed that the automobile must have broken down somewhere on the road. his friends had not arrived in time to help him, so he was thrown upon his own resources. while he and miss manners were racing toward the aëroplane, matt was measuring his chances. the appearance of the second hindoo, on the other side of the opening, complicated the dangers of the situation. if these hindoos were armed, as the girl had declared, then the case was indeed desperate. in making its start, however, the _comet_ would be running away from aurung zeeb, and straight toward the other hindoo. this second man would have to leave the road or be run down; and if the start was made quickly enough, the _comet_ could get away from aurung zeeb. "sit there," cried matt, lifting the girl to a seat on the lower plane. "hold on," he added, starting the motor, "and don't move." the girl's small fingers twined convulsively into the hand-holds. matt dropped into his own seat and turned the power into the bicycle wheels. slowly they took the push, the great wings lurching and swaying as the aëroplane moved. would it be possible for the machine, unaided by a crew of men behind the wings, to take to the air before the trees on the opposite side of the opening interfered? this was a momentous, nay, a vital, question, and could only be solved by actual trial. out of the tails of his eyes matt saw ben ali rising groggily to his feet. he flung up his arms and shouted. crack! from behind came a bullet, ripping through the canvas of the upper plane, but, fortunately, doing no damage to the machinery. aurung zeeb was doing the firing. and this same aurung zeeb had failed ben ali once in a dangerous pinch. this had caused a rupture of the friendly relations between the two men, but their differences had evidently been patched up. now aurung zeeb was doing his utmost to help ben ali--and, perhaps, to land himself in the same trouble in which dhondaram had been entrapped. another bullet was fired, but aurung zeeb must have been shooting as he ran, for his aim was poor. faster and faster raced the aëroplane, and matt kept measuring the distance between the machine and the trees on the farther side of the opening. the hindoo, in the road ahead, was running out of the aëroplane's path like a frightened hare. by then, ben ali had joined in the chase, but the speed of the _comet_ was too great for the pursuers. they were close to the edge of the timber, very close, when matt felt the wings beginning to lift. a dozen feet farther and they were in the air. in a flash the power was switched from the wheels to the propeller. the aëroplane dropped a little before it yielded to the thrashing blades of the screw; then it picked up the lost headway and arose. the upward tilt was frightful, but necessary if a wreck in the treetops was to be avoided. never a word had come from margaret manners. white as a ghost, she held to her place, swaying her body to preserve a poise against the tilt and pitch of the huge framework. the wheels brushed against the outer ends of the tree limbs, but the machine continued to glide into the air, walking upward as though climbing the rounds of a ladder. if the motor had failed from any cause, there could have been no harmless gliding back to earth. a sheer drop downward would have been the result. but the motor performed its work, and the trees presently hid the hindoos and screened the _comet_ from any further attack. then, and not till then, did the king of the motor boys draw a full breath. "are you holding on, miss manners?" asked matt. "yes," was the reply in a stifled voice. "you're not afraid?" "no." "bravo! we'll soon be back at the show grounds. you have seen the last of ben ali." high above the trees matt brought the _comet_ to an even keel, then laid out in a straightaway flight toward the lake. this time he did not follow the elgin road, but struck across country the nearest way home. that was not the first time margaret manners had had a ride in the aëroplane. some time before, when, under the name of haidee, she had traveled with the big consolidated, she had ridden on a trapeze swung below the machine. it was against matt's will, and only a trick of burton's had made it possible for the girl to make the ascension. at the time she was under hypnotic influence, and could not realize what she was doing. so, it followed, this was really the first ride she had ever taken in the aëroplane while mistress of her own faculties and able to understand her situation. she behaved admirably, and did not even cry out when the wings tilted sideways, or ducked forward with the seeming intention of hurling her and matt to the earth. there was no talk between the two. in silence matt attended to his work, drove the _comet_ at speed over the show grounds, circled, and came down in the roped-off space set apart for the machine. the crowds were still lingering, waiting for the aëroplane to return. cheering began as soon as the _comet_ was in sight, and was kept up until she was safely on the ground in the position from which she had originally started. carl and ping were waiting, too, and the eyes of both boys were big with astonishment when they saw and recognized margaret manners. "vell, py shiminy grickets!" exclaimed carl. the girl smiled at him wanly as matt helped her from her seat. "you and ping take care of the machine, carl," cautioned matt, as he led miss manners to the guard ropes and parted a course for her through the jostling mob. "hurrah for motor matt!" shouted some one. "he goes out alone and comes back with a passenger!" a laugh followed the cheer. "what's the price for a trip on the _comet_?" called some one else. "where does your air-ship line run?" "give me a ticket to san francisco!" matt met the joking good-naturedly and piloted miss manners to the calliope tent. the girl was tired and worn out. "you'd better get a little rest, miss manners," matt suggested. "what you have passed through this morning would have shaken nerves much stronger than yours." "i don't want to rest," she answered; "i want to talk. you have saved me again, motor matt, but what is the use of it all if i can't leave this country and go to england, or back to india? ben ali will find me again." "you are through with him," said matt, "just as i told you. a man has come from the british legation in washington to get you and send you away by the first boat leaving new york." "the man who came to mrs. chadwick's in lafayette said the same thing," answered the girl wearily. "it seems as though there is no escaping ben ali." "has he hypnotized you many times since he took you from mrs. chadwick's?" asked matt anxiously. "only once. i gave up hope, and went with him without trying to resist. he said he intended to send me back to india, but not until the rajah had paid him a lot of rupees." "he treated you well?" "he always treated me well--in his way--but the horror of going into a trance and saying and doing things i know nothing about is more terrible than ever to me. it was the fear of a trance that made me promise not to make uncle ben any trouble." "who was the man who impersonated the agent of the british ambassador?" "i had never seen him before." "i thought that perhaps he might have been the man who sold tickets in the ticket wagon for burton--the one who was with the show when you and ben ali were traveling with us." she shook her head. "i should have known that man if it had been he." "where did the man take you?" "on the train somewhere. i thought we were going to washington until we got off the train at a little station and met uncle ben. it was then he threw me into a trance, and when he awoke me we were at a little house near the place where we went this morning to wait for dhondaram. aurung zeeb was at the house, and so was the other hindoo--a man i had never seen before. you are sure," the girl asked tremblingly, "that this other agent of the british ambassador is really the person he pretends to be?" the girl's lack of confidence was pitiable. she had suffered so much that matt could readily understand her feelings. "i am positive, miss manners," he answered gently. "you must rest now. i will have mrs. harris come and stay with you for a while." the girl did not object, and matt had soon found mrs. harris and sent her to the calliope tent. two hours later, while matt was lounging around the front of the animal tent, a tired party consisting of burton, twomley, and mcglory arrived from the direction of the street-car line. "you matt!" cried mcglory. "why didn't you wait and give us a chance?" "if i'd waited much longer," answered matt, "there wouldn't have been a chance for anybody. did you see me coming back from the oak opening?" "did we?" echoed twomley, putting his monocle in his eyes. "by jove, i should say we did. fancy! you up aloft, sailing as nice as you please with miss manners beside you, and burton, mcglory, and me tramping along the road." "what was the matter?" asked matt. "matter?" fumed burton. "what's the matter when you set out in an automobile and don't arrive where you're going? the motor bucked, three miles out of grand rapids, and you sailed right along and never paid any attention to us. mcglory, twomley, and i started to walk the rest of the distance, when we saw the machine couldn't be fixed up for an hour or so, and before we'd gone a mile you sailed off in the direction of the show grounds--and never looked our way! oh, blazes! i'm done with automobiles." chapter xvi. conclusion. motor matt's regret was keen over the failure to catch ben ali, aurung zeeb, and the unknown hindoo. it was one of those cases, however, where it was best to be satisfied with the work accomplished, and to forget the failure whereby three miscreants escaped the consequence of their evil deeds. and it was possible that ben ali was not long to enjoy his freedom, for twomley asserted that all the powers of the united states secret service would be bent toward accomplishing his ultimate capture. when it came to dealing legally with dhondaram, a serious question arose. if the hindoo was to be punished severely, it would be necessary to take him to jackson, where the worst of his crimes had been committed. this would require the presence of complaining witnesses, of which burton was one. for a man traveling from place to place constantly, as was burton, such a move could not be made without great sacrifices. it was deemed better, therefore, to have dhondaram brought to book for the lesser crime committed in the house of the green shutters. "assault with murderous intent" was the charge, and a light sentence followed. bill wily, agreeably to promises given him, was released. whether he profited by his experience or not, motor matt never afterward discovered. such a lesson as he had had, however, should have been enough for any man. for a little matter of ten dollars, he had entered blindly into the schemes of ben ali--and ben ali's schemes left their mark on every person who had anything to do with them. twomley was a delighted englishman, if there ever was one. he had fulfilled the mission with which he had been intrusted by sir roger, and he had done so after discovering that his errand to lafayette, so far as securing miss manners was concerned, was useless. a roman candle in the side-show tent had lent itself to the perpetration of a practical joke; and out of that joke had come the clue which had made possible the second rescue of margaret manners. carl was very much pleased to learn that so much good had developed from a row in the freak tent, but whether or not he forgave ping for setting off the roman candle is open to question. carl had declared that he would "play even" with ping for the candle episode, and those who knew carl best believed that he would prove as good as his word. monday morning twomley and miss manners took a train for new york, but not until both the attaché and the girl had expressed to matt and the motor boys their appreciation of all that they had done. it was somewhat indelicate of carl, perhaps, to mention the matter of his five thousand dollars before miss manners, but he was beginning to worry about the money. as he expressed it, "der longer vat der time iss, der more vat i don'd seem to ged dot rewart. i peen sefendeen years olt, und meppy i don'd lif more as sixdy years from now." twomley assured carl that he would do whatever he possibly could to hurry the money along. and with this promise carl had to be satisfied. with the turning over of dhondaram to the police, the liberating of bill wily, and the departure of twomley and miss manners, a series of thrilling incidents connected with motor matt's show career came to a close. and motor matt's show experiences were likewise drawing near an end. just how close this end was he did not dream that monday morning when he and mcglory accompanied the attaché and his charge to the train. when the two boys got back to the show grounds, however, boss burton had a telegram for matt. burton was frankly worried about that telegram. some other showman, he felt sure, was offering matt a bigger salary for his aëroplane performances. "don't you forget for a minute," said burton, watching keenly as matt opened the telegram, "that you're hooked up with me on a contract for the season. you can't break that contract, you know." "there were conditions, burton," said matt. "the only condition i remember was something about the government buying the aëroplane--which is all a dream. the government has bought one of the machines, and that's enough. it takes a motor matt to run one of those cranky traquair air ships. it'll be a long while before uncle sam buys another." matt read the message through, gave a whoop of delight, and passed the yellow slip on to mcglory. then mcglory jubilated. "what's to pay?" demanded burton. "uncle sam has done the trick!" crowed the cowboy. "he takes the _comet_ at the same price he paid for the _june bug_--fifteen thousand spot--machine to be crated and shipped immediately, if not sooner. whoop-ya! that settles the aëroplane business for king & mcglory. the next game we get into will be something, i reckon, that i can take a hand in, and not leave pard matt to do all the work." burton's face grew gloomy. "let me look at that message," he requested. matt handed it to him, and he read it over two or three times, then dropped it savagely, and ground it under his heel. "you don't _have_ to sell," said he angrily. "you can turn that offer down if you want to." "no, i can't," matt answered. "the sale was virtually made up in north dakota weeks ago. besides, i'm not the only one interested in the deal." "who else besides mcglory?" "why, mrs. traquair, the widow of harry traquair, who invented the extension wings and a few other things that have made the aëroplane a success. half of the fifteen thousand the government pays for the machine goes to mrs. traquair." "oh, blazes!" growled burton. "don't tell the woman anything about it. send word back to the war department you don't want to sell; then i'll make a new contract with you for a thousand a week. in seven or eight weeks you boys will receive all your share of what the government pays for the _comet_." matt listened to the showman gravely. "you don't mean what you say, burton," said he. "if you think for a minute that i'd play crooked with mrs. traquair, or with the government, then you've got pretty far off your track. it's in our contract that, if the government wants the machine, the contract terminates. here's where the motor boys' engagement with the big consolidated comes to a close." "you'll make a couple of flights to-day, won't you?" asked burton, swallowing his disappointment. "yes, i'll do that much for you," matt answered, "and then, bright and early to-morrow morning, we begin crating the machine for shipment." "blamed if i don't sort of hate to see the machine go," murmured mcglory. "many a hair-raising old trip you've had in the _comet_, pard, with me below lookin' up at you and almost kicking the bucket with heart failure! mainy a thriller the machine has given us, and--well, i reckon it's done some good, too." "that's the best part of it, joe," said the king of the motor boys. the end. the next number ( ) will contain motor matt's mandarin or, turning a trick for tsan ti. on the mountainside--the yellow cord--the glass balls--the paper clue--putting two-and-two together--a smash--nip and tuck--tsan ti vanishes again--tricked once more--the diamond merchant--the old sugar camp--a tight corner--the glass spheres--a master rogue--the eye of buddha--the broken hoodoo. motor stories thrilling adventure motor fiction new york, september , . terms to motor stories mail subscribers. (_postage free._) single copies or back numbers, c. each. months c. months c. months $ . one year . copies one year . copy two years . =how to send money=--by post-office or express money-order, registered letter, bank check or draft, at our risk. at your own risk if sent by currency, coin, or postage-stamps in ordinary letter. =receipts=--receipt of your remittance is acknowledged by proper change of number on your label. if not correct you have not been properly credited, and should let us know at once. ormond g. smith, } george c. smith, } _proprietors_. street & smith, publishers, - seventh avenue, new york city. a brave deed. the mining town of capelton was alive with excitement. a long-looked-for event was about to take place. mr. hilton, the owner of the mines and more than half the village, was to give a ball in honor of his son's twenty-first birthday, and also to celebrate the return of his only daughter from the parisian school to which she had been sent when but ten years old. carl hilton was an only son, and because of his parents' indulgence had become selfish and tyrannical. his father idolized him, and was blind to his faults. he was to become a partner in the mines on attaining his majority. as mr. hilton had been out of health for more than a year, carl had attended to most of the business, and he had so tyrannized over the miners that they one and all hated him; but they loved and respected his father, and for his sake bore in silence the abuse of the son. to this birthday ball all the miners and their families had been invited, and the rumors of the great beauty of nina hilton only added to the excitement and anticipation. i will not weary the reader by a description of the affair, and no event of interest occurred until supper was announced. it fell to the lot of fred chase, one of the foremen in the mines, to escort the beautiful nina, and so deeply did they become engaged in conversation that it was some minutes before fred noticed that carl sat directly opposite, and was watching them closely. with an effort the young man concealed his annoyance, and continued his attentions to nina. "i intend to visit the mines to-morrow," said the girl, in tones loud enough to be heard by her brother. "i want to descend the new shaft." "i shall be very happy to conduct you through the mines, but you must not descend the new shaft, for it is not safe. i have warned your brother that the roof of the mine is in danger of falling, but he only laughs at me, and i fear some terrible accident will be the result of his neglect." "you are a fool, fred chase! the shaft is safe enough; if you talk like this, the men will all be afraid of it, and refuse to work. i shall take nina there myself to-morrow," said carl angrily. the young man's face flushed, but he controlled himself, and answered coldly: "i spoke the truth; the shaft is not safe, and unless more timber is put in to support the roof, you will soon have proof that i am right. i only hope that no lives will be lost." "pooh! you are a coward. i will show you to-morrow how little faith i put in your words." the eyes of all present were drawn to the two by carl's excited tone, and fred's reply was plainly heard. "call me a coward, if you will, but time will prove the truth of my assertion. neglect for twenty-four hours to order more timber to be placed in the new shaft for the support of its roof, and you alone will be responsible for what follows." carl did not answer, but glanced angrily at fred, who, after a minute's pause, turned to nina again, and changed the subject of conversation. the following morning carl started for the new shaft alone. nina refused to accompany him, and begged him to delay his visit until the roof was made secure. "nonsense, sis! it is safe enough. that fool, fred chase, wanted to impress you." carl believed what he said. he had not visited the shaft for several weeks, and had not seen the timbers bend beneath the weight of earth above them. he reached the shaft just as half a dozen miners came from it, and in answer to his inquiries, was told that fred chase and another man had remained behind to finish filling the last car with ore. "i am going down," he said, and in a few minutes was lowered to the bottom of the shaft. in the distance he could see the lights of the two miners. he advanced toward them. by the light of his own lantern he saw that some of the beams were bent; all seemed weighted to their utmost capacity, and he could not but own to himself that fred chase was right. he involuntarily shuddered as, in passing one large post, a slight crackling sound was heard; but it was not repeated, and he went on, determined to again make light of the matter. "you see, i am not afraid of your shaft," he said sneeringly, as he reached the spot where the two men were standing with the now loaded car beside them. "only cowards need boast of their bravery," said fred sternly. "i am going on a short distance to look at the ore; you may wait for me at the foot of the shaft, and we will all be drawn up at once," continued carl. he strolled on, while fred and his companion returned, as directed, to the entrance. they had barely reached it when they heard a loud report behind; a cry of fear mingled with the noise of falling rocks; then all was still. with pallid faces the men looked at each other, for each knew what had happened. the roof had fallen, and carl hilton was either crushed beneath the rocks or imprisoned in the opening beyond. only an instant did they stand motionless. then fred grasped the rope and gave the signal to be hoisted to the top. they told their sad story, and a messenger was dispatched to mr. hilton's residence. soon the entrance to the shaft was a scene of wild excitement. the stricken relatives of the buried man had reached the spot as soon as possible. the father offered large rewards to any who would attempt the rescue of his son; but not a man would volunteer. mr. hilton doubled and trebled his reward, but to no avail; to his entreaties were added the frantic pleading of the mother and nina's distressed sobs. fred had stood silent, with his eyes bent on the ground, until the old man, in sheer despair, cried out: "i will give half of my fortune, and it is a large one, to the men who will help me reach my boy!" fred came forward with a look of resolve on his face. "mr. hilton, not for your entire fortune would i enter that mine to save your son; but for humanity's sake, i will do my best to rescue him." a cheer from the miners greeted these brave words. with a wave of his hand, fred commanded silence, and running his eye over the crowd, said slowly: "i must have three trusty men to help me. who will go?" for an instant no one responded; then charles gray, fred's chosen companion, stepped to his side. "i will go, fred," he said quietly. two more men quickly followed the example of their brave leader, and, armed with spades, bars, ropes, and a bottle of brandy, they were lowered into the shaft. then followed a time of anxious suspense to the waiting crowd, who could only pray for the safety and success of the rescuing party. the first act of the workers was to place extra beams, a few of which were lowered down the shaft for the purpose, as near as they could to the fallen roof, to help bear any strain that might be resting on those already there. in a few minutes they realized their wisdom, for a cracking sound was heard which caused them to retreat toward the shaft; but it was not repeated, and they returned to their work. at the end of three hours of cautious digging they came to the car which fred and his companion had stayed behind to fill, and they stopped for a few moments' rest. "he cannot be far from here, for we had barely reached the shaft when the roof fell. hark! what was that?" fred stopped suddenly to listen. "it was a groan! he is alive! let us get to work, for he must be quite near," said charlie gray excitedly. with new zeal they worked on, and in half an hour they had reached an opening caused by two large rocks, which had fallen together in such a manner as to leave a space between them. in that space lay carl, with one arm doubled under him, and one foot pinioned by a large stone. the poor fellow was terribly bruised and cut, but conscious. very gently he was lifted by the men and borne to the foot of the shaft. the signal was given, and they were carefully drawn to the top, and when they laid carl on the ground a shout went up from the miners that echoed loudly over the hills. "god bless you, fred, and your brave companions!" said mr. hilton huskily, as he grasped the young man by the hand. "from my heart i thank you." "no thanks are due. i could not bear to see a fellow creature die without trying to save him." the crowd soon dispersed, and carl was conveyed to his home. after many weeks of suffering he recovered; but the crushed foot was useless--he was a cripple for life. as soon as he was able to do so, carl sent for fred. "forgive me, fred," he said frankly. "i was wrong not to heed your advice, but my punishment has been great. forget the past, and allow me to thank you for saving my life." fred could not refuse the apology thus offered, and the two became fast friends. about a year afterward mr. hilton bestowed his daughter's hand upon the brave young man who had saved his son's life, and on his wedding day fred became one of the owners of the mines. he is now a wealthy and prosperous man, and, with his beautiful wife, is almost worshiped by the miners. a locomotive hero. well, boys, if you wish it, i'll tell you the story. when i was a youth of eighteen, and lived with my parents, i had a boyish ambition to become an engineer, although i had been educated for loftier pursuits. during my college vacation, i constantly lounged about the station, making friends with the officials, and especially with an engineer named silas markley. i became much attached to this man, although he was forty years of age and by no means a sociable fellow. he was my ideal of a brave, skillful, thoroughbred engineer, and i looked up to him as something of a hero. he was not a married man, but lived alone with his old mother. i was a frequent visitor at their house, and i think they both took quite a fancy to me in their quiet, undemonstrative way. when this markley's fireman left him, i induced him to let me take his place during the remainder of my vacation. he hesitated for some time before he consented to humor my boyish whim; but he finally yielded, and i was in great glee. the fact was that, in my idleness and the overworked state of my brain, i craved for the excitement, and, besides, i had such longing dreams of the fiery ride through the hills, mounted literally on the iron horse. so i became an expert fireman, and liked it exceedingly; for the excitement more than compensated for the rough work i was required to do. but there came a time when i got my fill of excitement. mrs. markley one day formed a plan which seemed to give her a good deal of happiness. it was her son's birthday, and she wanted to go down to philadelphia in the train without letting him know anything about it, and there purchase a present for him. she took me into her confidence, and asked me to assist her. i arranged the preliminaries, got her into the train without being noticed by markley, who, of course, was busy with his engine. the old lady was in high glee over the bit of innocent deception she was practicing on her son. she enjoined me again not to tell silas, and then i left her and took my place. it was a midsummer day, and the weather was delightful. the train was one which stopped at the principal stations on the route. on this occasion, as there were two specials on the line, it was run by telegraph--that is, the engineer has simply to obey the instructions which he receives at each station, so that he is put as a machine in the hands of one controller, who directs all trains from a central point, and thus has the whole line under his eye. if the engineer does not obey to the least tittle his orders, it is destruction to the whole. well, we started without mishap, and up to time, and easily reached the first station in the time allotted to us. as we stopped there, a boy ran alongside with the telegram, which he handed to the engineer. the next moment i heard a smothered exclamation from markley. "go back," he said to the boy; "tell williams to have the message repeated; there's a mistake." the boy dashed off; in a few minutes he came flying back. "had it repeated," he panted. "williams is storming at you; says there's no mistake, and you'd best get on." he thrust the second message up as he spoke. markley read it, and stood hesitating for half a minute. there was dismay and utter perplexity in the expression of his face as he looked at the telegram and the long train behind him. his lips moved as if he were calculating chances, and his eyes suddenly quailed as if he saw death at the end of the calculation. i was watching him with considerable curiosity. i ventured to ask him what was the matter, and what he was going to do. "i'm going to obey," he said curtly. the engine gave a long shriek of horror that made me start as if it were markley's own voice. the next instant we slipped out of the station and dashed through low-lying farms at a speed which seemed dangerous to me. "put in more coal," said markley. i shoveled in more, but took time. "we are going very fast, markley." he did not answer. his eyes were fixed on the steam gauge, his lips close shut. "more coal," he said. i threw it in. the fields and houses began to fly past half-seen. we were nearing dufreme, the next station. markley's eyes went from the gauge to the face of the timepiece and back. he moved like an automaton. there was little more meaning in his face. "more!" he said, without turning his eye. "markley, do you know you are going at the rate of sixty miles an hour?" "coal!" i was alarmed at the stern, cold rigidity of the man. his pallor was becoming frightful. i threw in the coal. at least we must stop at dufreme. that was the next halt. the little town was approaching. as the first house came into view the engine sent its shrieks of warning; it grew louder--still louder. we dashed over the switches, up to the station, where a group of passengers waited, and passed it without the halt of an instant, catching a glimpse of the appalled faces and the waiting crowd. then we were in the fields again. the speed now became literally breathless, the furnace glared red hot. the heat, the velocity, the terrible nervous strain of the man beside me seemed to weight the air. i found myself drawing long, stertorous breaths, like one drowning. i heaped in the coal at intervals as he bade me. i did it because i was oppressed by an odd sense of duty which i never had in my ordinary brainwork. since then i have understood how it is that dull, ignorant men, without a spark of enthusiasm, show such heroism as soldiers, firemen, and captains of wrecked vessels. it is this overpowering sense of routine duty. it's a finer thing than sheer bravery, in my idea. however, i began to think that markley was mad--laboring under some frenzy from drink, though i had never seen him touch liquor. he did not move hand or foot, except in the mechanical control of his engine, his eyes going from the gauge to the timepiece with a steadiness that was more terrible and threatening than any gleam of insanity would have been. once he glared back at the long train sweeping after the engine with a headlong speed that rocked it from side to side. one could imagine he saw a hundred men and women in the cars, talking, reading, smoking, unconscious that their lives were all in the hold of one man, whom i now suspected to be mad. i knew by his look that he remembered that their lives were in his hand. he glanced at the clock. "twenty miles," he muttered. "throw on more coal, jack; the fire is going out." i did it. yes, i did it. there was something in the face of that man i could not resist. then i climbed forward and shook him roughly by the shoulder. "markley," i shouted, "you are running this train into the jaws of death!" "i know it," he replied quietly. "your mother is on board." "heavens!" he staggered to his feet. but even then he did not remove his eyes from the gauge. "make up the fire," he commanded, and pushed in the throttle valve. "i will not." "make up the fire, jack," very quietly. "i will not. you may kill yourself and your mother, but you shall not murder me!" he looked at me. his kindly gray eyes glared like those of a wild beast, but he controlled himself in a moment. "i could throw you off this engine, and make short work of you," he said. "but, look here, do you see the station yonder?" i saw a faint streak in the sky about five miles ahead. "i was told to reach that station by six o'clock," he continued. "the express train meeting us is due now. i ought to have laid by for it at defreme. i was told to come on. the track is a single one. unless i make the siding at the station in three minutes, we shall meet it in yonder hollow." "somebody's blunder?" i said. "yes, i think so." i said nothing. i threw on coal. if i had had petroleum, i should have thrown it on; but i never was calmer in my life. when death actually stares a man in the face, it often frightens him into the most perfect composure. markley pushed the valve still farther. the engine began to give a strange panting sound. far off to the south i could see the dense black smoke of a train. i looked at markley inquiringly. he nodded. it was the express. i stooped to the fire. "no more," he said. i looked across the clear summer sky at the gray smoke of the peaceful little village, and beyond that at a black line coming closer, closer, across the sky. then i turned to the watch. in one minute more--well, i confess i sat down and buried my face in my hands. i don't think i tried to pray. i had a confused thought of mangled, dying men and women--mothers and their babies. there was a terrible shriek from the engine, against which i leaned, another in my face. a hot, hissing tempest swept past me. i looked up. we were on the siding, and the express had gone by. it grazed our end car in passing. in a sort of delirious joy, i sprang up and shouted to markley. he did not speak. he sat there immovable and cold as a stone. i went to the train and brought his mother to him, and, when he opened his eyes and took the old lady's hand in his, i turned hastily away. yes, gentlemen, i have been in many a railway accident, but i have always considered that the closest shave i ever had. what was the blunder? i don't know; markley made light of it ever afterward, and kept it a secret; but no man on the line stood so high in the confidence of the company after that as he. by his coolness and nerve he had saved a hundred lives. geese drown a squirrel. jack, a big gray squirrel, who, with his mate, jill, inhabited the island in the duck inclosure in the bronx park zoo, new york city, sacrificed his life to his love of high living. it was this way: jack and jill long ago discovered that by crossing over the ten-foot-wide stream of water which separates the island from the mainland on all sides they could reach a trough filled with corn, which was replenished daily, for the ducks and geese, which rightfully inhabit the pond and island. a wire fence dividing the inclosure used by the mallard ducks from that enjoyed by the canada geese offered a means of communication between the island and the corn trough, and jack and jill long ago became expert in running along the top of this ticklish pathway. daily the two squirrels made pilgrimages to the corn trough, eaten to repletion, and then returned to the island. the ducks and the geese always swam close to the fence, flapping their wings and uttering hoarse cries of rage, but were never able to catch the nimble squirrels. little by little, however, jack lost his native agility as he partook of more and more of the rich food, and when he started back from a particularly heavy feast he waddled slowly along the top of the fence instead of hopping nimbly along as had been his wont. one of the mallards saw him and realized that he was too heavy and too well fed to move hurriedly. the duck sounded a cry which brought all of its mates, and they attacked jack viciously. the squirrel tried to hurry, but at last was pushed off the fence and fell into the pond. in an instant he was surrounded by big canada geese. persons on shore saw him fight desperately for life, but finally he was forced under water. the geese churned the pond into a foam, and when they swam majestically away there was nothing to be seen of jack. jill, who ran back and forth on the shore of the island while jack was fighting for his life, retired to a tree after the tragedy, and has not been seen since. keepers think that she will not try to reach the corn trough any more. latest issues motor stories the latest and best five-cent weekly. we won't say how interesting it is. see for yourself. =high art colored covers. thirty-two big pages. price, cents.= --motor matt's quest; or, three chums in strange waters. --motor matt's close call; or, the snare of don carlos. --motor matt in brazil; or, under the amazon. --motor matt's defiance; or, around the horn. --motor matt makes good; or, another victory for the motor boys. --motor matt's launch; or, a friend in need. --motor matt's enemies; or, a struggle for the right. --motor matt's prize; or, the pluck that wins. --motor matt on the wing; or, flying for fame and fortune. --motor matt's reverse; or, caught in a losing game. --motor matt's "make or break"; or, advancing the spark of friendship. --motor matt's engagement; or, on the road with a show. --motor matt's "short circuit"; or, the mahout's vow. --motor matt's make-up; or, playing a new rôle. tip top weekly the most popular publication for boys. the adventures of frank and dick merriwell can be had only in this weekly. =high art colored covers. thirty-two pages. price, cents.= --dick merriwell's colors; or, all for the blue. --dick merriwell, driver; or, the race for the daremore cup. --dick merriwell on the deep; or, the cruise of the _yale_. --dick merriwell in the north woods; or, the timber thieves of the floodwood. --dick merriwell's dandies; or, a surprise for the cowboy nine. --dick merriwell's "skyscooter"; or, professor pagan and the "princess." --dick merriwell in the elk mountains; or, the search for "dead injun" mine. --dick merriwell in utah; or, the road to "promised land." --dick merriwell's bluff; or, the boy who ran away. --dick merriwell in the saddle; or, the bunch from the bar--z. --dick merriwell's ranch friends; or, sport on the range. --frank merriwell at phantom lake; or, the mystery of the mad doctor. --frank merriwell's hold-back; or, the boys of bristol. --frank merriwell's lively lads; or, the rival campers. nick carter weekly the best detective stories on earth. nick carter's exploits are read the world over. =high art colored covers. thirty-two big pages. price, cents.= --the triangle clue; or, nick carter's greenwich village case. --the hollingsworth puzzle; or, nick carter three times baffled. --the affair of the missing bonds; or, nick carter in the harness. --the green box clue; or, nick carter's good friend. --the taxicab mystery; or, nick carter closes a deal. --the mystery of a hotel room; or, nick carter's best work. --the tragedy of the well; or, nick carter under suspicion. --the black hand; or, chick carter's well-laid plot. --the black hand nemesis; or, chick carter and the mysterious woman. --a masterly trick; or, chick and the beautiful italian. --a dangerous man; or, nick carter and the famous castor case. --castor the poisoner; or, nick carter wins a man. --the castor riddle; or, nick carter's search for a hidden fortune. --a tragedy of the bowery; or, nick carter and ida at coney island. --four scraps of paper; or, nick carter's coney island search. _for sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to any address on receipt of price, cents per copy, in money or postage stamps, by_ street & smith, publishers, - seventh avenue, new york =if you want any back numbers= of our weeklies and cannot procure them from your newsdealer, they can be obtained from this office direct. fill out the following order blank and send it to us with the price of the weeklies you want and we will send them to you by return mail. =postage stamps taken the same as money.= ________________________ _ _ _street & smith, - seventh avenue, new york city._ _dear sirs: enclosed please find_ ___________________________ _cents for which send me_: tip top weekly, nos. ________________________________ nick carter weekly, " ________________________________ diamond dick weekly, " ________________________________ buffalo bill stories, " ________________________________ brave and bold weekly, " ________________________________ motor stories, " ________________________________ _name_ ________________ _street_ ________________ _city_ ________________ _state_ ________________ a great success!! motor stories every boy who reads one of the splendid adventures of motor matt, which are making their appearance in this weekly, is at once surprised and delighted. surprised at the generous quantity of reading matter that we are giving for five cents; delighted with the fascinating interest of the stories, second only to those published in the tip top weekly. matt has positive mechanical genius, and while his adventures are unusual, they are, however, drawn so true to life that the reader can clearly see how it is possible for the ordinary boy to experience them. _here are the titles now ready and those to be published_: --motor matt; or, the king of the wheel. --motor matt's daring; or, true to his friends. --motor matt's century run; or, the governor's courier. --motor matt's race; or, the last flight of the "comet." --motor matt's mystery; or, foiling a secret plot. --motor matt's red flier; or, on the high gear. --motor matt's clue; or, the phantom auto. --motor matt's triumph; or, three speeds forward. --motor matt's air ship; or, the rival inventors. --motor matt's hard luck; or, the balloon house plot. --motor matt's daring rescue; or, the strange case of helen brady. --motor matt's peril; or, cast away in the bahamas. --motor matt's queer find; or, the secret of the iron chest. --motor matt's promise; or, the wreck of the "hawk." --motor matt's submarine; or, the strange cruise of the "grampus." --motor matt's quest; or, three chums in strange waters. --motor matt's close call; or, the snare of don carlos. --motor matt in brazil; or, under the amazon. --motor matt's defiance; or, around the horn. --motor matt makes good; or, another victory for the motor boys. --motor matt's launch; or, a friend in need. --motor matt's enemies; or, a struggle for the right. --motor matt's prize; or, the pluck that wins. --motor matt on the wing; or, flying for fame and fortune. --motor matt's reverse; or, caught in a losing game. --motor matt's "make or break"; or, advancing the spark of friendship. --motor matt's engagement; or, on the road with a show. --motor matt's "short circuit"; or, the mahout's vow. to be published on september th. --motor matt's make-up; or, playing a new role. to be published on september th. --motor matt's mandarin; or, turning a trick for tsan ti. to be published on september th. --motor matt's mariner; or, filling the bill for bunce. to be published on september th. --motor matt's double-trouble; or, the last of the hoodoo. price, five cents at all newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, by the publishers upon receipt of the price. street & smith, _publishers_, new york transcriber's notes: added table of contents. retained some inconsistent hyphenation; in many cases, words are hyphenated when used as adjectives but unhyphenated when used as nouns. italics are represented with _underscores_, bold with =equal signs=. front and rear covers, accent is missing from "role" in original; retained inconsistency. page , corrected ? to ! after "howdy, dutch!" page , corrected "shimiiy" to "shiminy" in "py shiminy grickets!" page , corrected "wiley" to "wily" in "go back to your job, wily." page , removed stray single quote after "going to keep it." page , added missing quote before "i'm the one." page , corrected typo "minues" in "inside of five minutes." page , removed unnecessary quote before "yes, he decided." (adding a quote after "yes" would also have been an option; however, this series usually does not quote thoughts). page , changed "doin 'a" to "doin' a." page , changed "go" to "got" in "what have you got to do with this house?" page , changed "he" to "the" in "the loss o' that hindoostanee." page , changed "foolishnes" to "foolishness." page , changed "fair to asume" to "fair to assume." changed "every" to "ever" in "on my mind ever since." page , expanded oe ligature to "oe" for this text edition. ligature retained in html version. _nuts to wild talents! mine was no satisfaction, never earned me a penny--and now it had me fighting for my life in_ ... the little red bag by jerry sohl [transcriber's note: this etext was produced from worlds of if science fiction, january . extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] about an hour out of san francisco on the flight to los angeles, i made the discovery. i had finished reading the _chronicle_, folded and put it beside me, turned and looked out the window, expecting to see the san joaquin valley but finding only a sea of clouds instead. so i returned my attention to the inside of the plane, to the overstuffed gray-haired woman asleep beside me, to the backs of heads in seats before me, across the aisle to other heads, and down to the blonde. i had seen her in the concourse and at the gate, a shapely thing. now she had crossed her legs and i was privileged to view a trim ankle and calf, and her profile as she stared moodily across the aisle and out a window where there was nothing to see. i slid my eyes past her to others. a crossword-puzzle worker, a togetherness-type-magazine reader. inventory completed, i went back to looking at the clouds, knowing i should be thinking about the printing order i was going to los angeles for, and not wanting to. so i started going through the purse of the woman next to me. perhaps that sounds bad. it wasn't. i'd been doing it for years and nobody ever complained. it started when i was a kid, this business of being able to explore the insides of things like purses and sealed boxes and locked drawers and--well, human beings. but human beings aren't worth the trouble. it's like swimming through spaghetti. and i've got to stay away from electric wires. they hurt. now don't ask me _how_ they hurt. maybe you think it's fun. for the most part, it really isn't. i always knew what was in christmas presents before i unwrapped them, and therefore christmas was always spoiled for me as a kid. i can't feel the color of anything, just its consistency. an apple senses about the same as a potato, except for the core and the stem. i can't even tell if there's writing on a piece of paper. so you see it isn't much. just the feel of shapes, the hardnesses and softnesses. but i've learned to become pretty good at guessing. like this woman next to me. she had a short, cylindrical metal object in her purse with waxlike stuff inside it--a lipstick. a round, hard object with dust inside--a compact. handkerchief, chewing gum, a small book, probably an address book, money in a change purse--a few bills and coins. not much else. i was a little disappointed. i've run across a gun or two in my time. but i never say anything. * * * * * i learned the wisdom of keeping my mouth shut in the fourth grade when miss winters, a stern, white-haired disciplinarian, ordered me to eat my sack lunch in the classroom with her instead of outside with some of the other kids. this was the punishment for some minor infraction. lunchtime was nearly over and we'd both finished eating; she said she'd be gone for a few moments and that i was to erase the blackboard during her absence, which i dutifully did. class had hardly resumed when she started looking around the desk for her favorite mechanical pencil, asking if any of us had seen it, and looking straight at me. i didn't want her to think i had taken it while she was out of the room, so i probed the contents of her purse, which she always kept in the upper right drawer of her desk. "it's in your purse," i blurted out. i was sent home with a stinging note. since then i've kept quiet. at one time i assumed everybody was able to sense. i've known better for years. still, i wonder how many other people are as close-mouthed about their special gift as i am about mine. i used to think that some day i'd make a lot of money out of it, but how? i can't read thoughts. i can't even be sure what some of the things i sense in probing really are. but i've learned to move things. ever so little. a piece of paper. a feather. once i stopped one of those little glass-enclosed light or heat-powered devices with vanes you see now and then in a jeweler's window. and i can stop clocks. take this morning, for example. i had set my alarm for five-thirty because i had to catch the seven o'clock plane at san francisco international airport. this being earlier than i usually get up, it seems all i did during the night was feel my way past the escapement and balance wheel to see where the notch for the alarm was. the last time i did it there was just the merest fraction of an inch between the pawl and the notch. so i sighed and moved to the balance wheel and its delicate ribbon of spiraling steel. i hung onto the wheel, exerting influence to decrease the restoring torque. the wheel slowed down until there was no more ticking. it took quite a bit of effort, as it always does, but i did it, as i usually do. i can't stand the alarm. when i first learned to do this, i thought i had it made. i even went to las vegas to try my hand, so to speak, with the ratchets and pawls and cams and springs on the slot machines. but there's nothing delicate about a slot machine, and the spring tensions are too strong. i dropped quite a lot of nickels before i finally gave up. so i'm stuck with a talent i've found little real use for. except that it amuses me. sometimes. not like this time on the plane. the woman beside me stirred, sat up suddenly and looked across me out the window. "where are we?" she asked in a surprised voice. i told her we were probably a little north of bakersfield. she said, "oh," glanced at her wristwatch and sank back again. soon the stewardesses would bring coffee and doughnuts around, so i contented myself with looking at the clouds and trying to think about amos magaffey, who was purchasing agent for a los angeles amusement chain, and how i was going to convince him our printing prices were maybe a little higher but the quality and service were better. my mind wandered below where i was sitting, idly moving from one piece of luggage to another, looking for my beat-up suitcase. i went through slips and slippers, lingerie and laundry, a jig saw puzzle and a ukulele. i never did find my suitcase because i found the bomb first. * * * * * the bomb was in a small bag--a woman's bag judging by the soft, flimsy things you'd never find in a man's--and i didn't know it was a bomb right away. i thought it was just a clock, one of those small, quiet alarms. i was going to pass it by and go on, but what held me was that something was taped to it. by the feel, i knew it must be electrician's tape. interested and curious, i explored the clock more closely, found two wires. one went to a battery and the other to hard round cylinders taped together. the hairs stood up at the base of my neck when i suddenly realized what it was. the clock's balance wheel was rocking merrily. quickly i went up past the train of gears to the alarm wheel. if this was anything like my own alarm clock, this one had something like ten minutes to go. it was forty minutes to burbank and lockheed air terminal. my mind was churning when i turned from the window to look around at the unconcerned passengers, the woman at my side asleep again. i thought: which one of these.... no, none of them would know it was there. i glanced out the window again; clouds were still in the way. we'd be leaving the valley for the mountain range north of los angeles soon, if we hadn't left it already. no place to land the plane there. but of course that had been the plan! my heart was beating in jackhammer rhythm; my mouth was dry and my mind was numb. tell somebody about the bomb before it's too late! no, they'd think i put it there. besides, what good would it do? there would be panic and they'd never get the plane down in time--if they believed me. "sir." my head jerked around. the stewardess stood in the aisle, smiling, extending a tray to me, a brown plastic tray bearing a small paper cup of tomato juice, a cup of coffee, a cellophane-wrapped doughnut, paper spoon, sugar and dehydrated cream envelopes, and a napkin. i goggled at her, managed to croak, "no, thanks." she gave me an odd look and moved along. my seatmate had accepted hers and was tearing at the cellophane. i couldn't bear to watch her. i closed my eyes, forced my mind back to the luggage compartment, spent a frantic moment before i found the bag again. i had to stop that balance wheel, just as i stopped my alarm clock every morning. i tried to close everything off--the throb of engines, the rush of air, the woman sipping coffee noisily beside me--and i went into the clock and surrounded the seesawing wheel. when it went forward, i pulled it back; when it went back, i pulled it forward. i struggled with it, and it was like trying to work with greasy hands, and i was afraid i wasn't going to be able to stop it. then, little by little, it started to slow its beat. but i could not afford to relax. i pushed and pulled and didn't dare release my hold until it came to a dead stop. "anything the matter?" my eyelids flew open and i looked into the eyes of the woman next to me. there was sugar from the doughnut around her mouth and she was still chewing. "no," i said, letting out my breath. "i'm all right." "you were moaning, it sounded like. and you kept moving your head back and forth." "must have been dreaming," i said as i rang for the stewardess. when she came i told her i'd take some of that coffee now. no, nothing else, just coffee. i didn't tell her how much i needed it. i sat there clammy with sweat until she returned. coffee never tasted so good. * * * * * all right, so i had stopped the bomb's timer. my mind raced ahead to the landing. when they unloaded the luggage, the balance wheel would start again. i wouldn't be able to stay with it, keeping it still. i considered telling the authorities as soon as we landed, or maybe calling in ahead, but wouldn't that just bring suspicion, questions. maybe i could convince them i could stop a clock--but not before the bomb exploded. and then what? my secret would be out and my life would be changed. i'd be a man not to be trusted, a prying man, a man literally with gimlet eyes. mountain crags jutted through the clouds. we were in the range north of the city. here and there were clear spots and i could see roads below, but there were also clouds far above us. it was very beautiful, but it was also very bumpy, and we started to slip and slide. to my horror i found that the balance wheel was rocking again. closing my eyes and gritting my teeth, i forced my senses to the wheel, tugging and pulling and shoving and pushing until it finally stopped. a jab in the shoulder. i jumped, startled. "your cup," my seat partner said, pointing. i looked down at the coffee cup i had crushed in my hands. then i looked up into the eyes of the stewardess. i handed it to her. she took it without a word and went away. "were you really asleep that time?" "not really," i said. i was tempted to tell the woman i was subject to fits, but i didn't. it was only a few minutes to landing, but they became the longest minutes of my life as time after time i stopped the rocking wheel when the plane dipped and bumped to a landing. leaving the apron with the other passengers, i tried to walk as unconcernedly as they through the exit gate. i would have liked walking through the terminal and out the entrance and away, but i could not. i had my suitcase to get, for one thing. the damned bomb was the other. so i strolled out into the concourse again to look at the plane and watch the baggagemen at work, transferring the luggage to two airfield carts. they weren't as careful as i would have been. it was impossible to tell from this distance just which bag contained the bomb; i could hardly identify my own scarred suitcase. the assortment of bags--a strange conglomeration of sizes and colors--was packed in some places six deep, and it rolled toward the gate where i was standing. i didn't know whether to stay or run, imagining the balance wheel now happily rocking again. the load went past me down a ramp to the front of the air terminal where the luggage was unloaded and placed in a long rack. i went with it. there was a flurry of ticket matching, hands grabbing for suitcases, and a general exodus on the part of my fellow passengers, too fast to determine who had got the one with the bomb. now all that was left was the attendant and i had two bags--my own battered veteran of years, and a fine new red overnight case, small enough to be the one. i lit a cigarette, reached out. inside were a woman's things and--a clock. the escapement was clicking vigorously. i didn't moan this time. i just closed my eyes, stretched toward and grabbed the balance wheel i was getting to know like my own. i entered into a union with it so strong that after i had reduced it to immobility, it was like waking when i opened my eyes. * * * * * the baggage claim attendant was staring at me. for only a moment i stared back. then i quickly reached for my baggage check and presented it to him. his hand hovered over the handle of the little red bag and i was ready to yell at him. but then, matching numbers on the tags with his eyes, his hand grasped the handle of my own suitcase and pushed it toward me. "thanks," i said, taking it. i glanced ever so casually toward the remaining bag. "one left over, eh?" "yeah." he was so bored i was tempted to tell him what was in it. but he was eying me with a "well-why-don't-you-get-along?" look. i said, "what happens if nobody claims it?" "take it inside. why?" he was getting too curious. "oh, i just wondered, that's all." i stepped on my cigarette and walked toward the air terminal entrance and put my suitcase on the stone steps there. a redcap came hurrying over. "cab?" i shook my head. "just waiting." just waiting for somebody to pick up a bomb. i lit another cigarette and glanced now and then toward the baggage claim area. the red bag was still there. all sorts of theories ran through my head as to why it should still be there, and none satisfied me. i should not have been there, that much i knew; i should be with a man named amos magaffey on sixth street at ten o'clock, discussing something very mundane, the matter of a printing order. but what could i do? if i left the airport, the attendant would eventually take the bag inside and there would be an explosion, and i wouldn't be able to live with myself. no. i had to stay to keep the balance wheel stationary until--until what? a man in tan gabardine, wearing a police cap and badge, walked out of the entrance to stand on the stone steps beside me while he put on a pair of dark glasses. a member of the airport police detail. i could tell him. i could take him down to the little red bag and explain the whole thing. then it would be his baby and i would be off on my own business. but he moved on down the steps, nodded at the redcap, and started across the street to the parking area. i could have called to him, "hey, officer, let me tell you about a bomb in a little red bag." but i didn't. i didn't because i caught a movement at the baggage claim counter out of the side of my eye. the attendant had picked up the bag and was walking with it up the ramp to the rear of the air terminal. picking up my own suitcase, i went inside in time to see him enter through a side door and deposit the bag on the scales at the airline desk and say something to the clerk. the clerk nodded and moved the bag to the rear room. i could visualize the balance wheel once again rocking like crazy. how many minutes--or seconds--were left? i was sweating when i moved to the counter, and it wasn't because of the sunshine i'd been soaking in. i had to get as close to the bag as i could if i was going to stop the clock again. "can i help you?" the clerk asked. "no. i'm waiting for someone." i turned my back to him, put down my suitcase, leaned against the counter and reached out for the wheel. i found i could reach the device, but it was far away. when i tried to dampen it, the wheel escaped my grasp. "do you have my suitcase?" i blinked my eyes open and looked around. the blonde in the plane stood there looking very fresh and bright and unconcerned. in her right hand she had a green baggage claim check. the clerk took it, nodded, and in a moment brought out the overnight case and set it on the scales. the girl thanked him, picked it up, glanced at me indifferently, and then started for the entrance with it. "just a moment," i found myself saying, grabbing my bag and hurrying after her. * * * * * at her side and a little ahead of her, i said, "listen to me." she looked annoyed and increased her stride toward the door. "it's a matter of life or death," i said. i wanted to wrest the bag from her and hurl it out through the doorway into the street, but i restrained myself. she stopped and stared. i noticed a short, fat man in a rumpled suitcoat and unpressed pants staring, too. ignoring him, i said, "please put the bag down. over there." i indicated a spot beside a telephone booth where it would be out of the way. she didn't move. she just said, "why?" "for god's sake!" i took the case. she offered no resistance. i put her bag and mine next to the booth. when i turned around she was standing there looking at me as if i had gone out of my mind. her eyes were blue and brown-flecked, very pretty eyes, and my thought at the moment was, i'm glad the bomb didn't go off; these eyes wouldn't be looking at me or anything else right now if it had. "i've got to talk to you. it's very important." the girl said, "why?" i was beginning to think it was the only word she knew. at the same time i was wondering why anyone would want to kill someone so lovely. "i'll explain in a moment. please stand right here while i make a telephone call." i moved toward the phone booth, paused and said, "and don't ask me why." she gave me a speculative look. i must not have seemed a complete idiot because she said, "all right, but--" i didn't listen for the rest. i went into the booth, closed the door, pretended to drop a coin and dial a number. but all the time i was in there, i was reaching out through the glass for the clock. at this range it wasn't difficult to stop the balance wheel. just the same, when i came out i was wringing wet. "now will you please tell me what this is all about?" she said stiffly. "gladly. let me buy you a cup of coffee and i'll explain." she glanced at the bags. i told her they'd be all right. we followed the short, fat man into the coffee shop. over coffee i explained it all to her, how i had this extrasensory ability, how she was the first person i had ever revealed it to, and how i had discovered what was in her overnight bag. during the telling, her untouched coffee grew a skin, her face grew pale, her eyes grew less curious and more troubled. there were tears there when i finished. i asked her who put the bomb in her bag. "joe did," she said in a toneless voice, not looking at me any more but staring vacantly across the room. "joe put it there." behind her eyes she was reliving some recent scene. "who is joe?" "my husband." i thought she was going to really bawl, but she got control again. "this trip was his idea, my coming down here to visit my sister." her smile was bleak. "i see now why he wanted to put in those books. i'd finished packing and was in the bathroom. he said he'd put in some books we'd both finished reading--for my sister. that's when he must have put the--put it in there." i said gently, "why would he want to do a thing like that?" "i don't know." she shook her head. "i just don't know." and she was close to bawling again. then she recovered and said, "i'm not sure i want to know." i admired her for saying it. joe must have been crazy. "it's all right now?" she asked. i nodded. "as long as we don't move it." i told her i didn't know how much more time there was, that i'd been thinking it over and that the only way out seemed to be to tell the airport policeman. after i explained it to her, the girl--she said her name was julia claremont--agreed to tell him she thought there was a bomb in her bag, that she had noticed a ticking and had become worried because she knew she hadn't packed a clock. it wasn't good, but it would have to do. "we've got to get it deactivated," i said, watching the fat man pay for his coffee and leave. "the sooner the better." * * * * * i finished my coffee in one gulp and went to pay the bill with her. i asked her why she didn't claim the bag at the same time the other people had. she said she had called her sister and the phone was busy for a long while. "she was supposed to meet me, and when she wasn't here, i got worried. she said she isn't feeling well and asked me to take a cab." she smiled a little. it was a bright, cheery thing. i had the feeling it was all for me. "that's where i was going when you caught up with me." it had become a very nice day. but the bottom dropped out of it again when we reached the lobby. the two bags weren't there. i ran to the entrance and nearly collided with the redcap. "see anybody go out of here with a little red bag and an old battered suitcase?" "bag? suitcase?" he mumbled. then he became excited. "why, a man just stepped out of here--" he turned to look down the street. "that's him." the dumpy man i'd seen was walking off; julia's bag in his right hand, mine in his left. he seemed in no hurry. "hey!" i shouted, starting toward him. the man turned, took one look at me, and started to run. he came abreast an old gray, mud-spattered coupe, ran around, opened the door and threw both bags into the rear seat as he got in. the car was a hundred feet away and gathering speed by the time i reached where it had been parked. i watched it for a moment, then walked back to the entranceway where julia was standing with the redcap, who said, "that man steal them suitcases?" "that he did," i said. just then the airport policeman started across the street from the parking lot. redcap said, "better tell him about it." the policeman was sympathetic and concerned. he said, "we'd better get over to the office." but we never left the spot because an explosion some blocks distant shattered the air. julia's hand grasped my arm. hard. "jets," the redcap said, eying the sky. "i don't know," the policeman said. "didn't sound much like a jet to me." we stood there. i could visualize the wreckage of an old gray coupe in the middle of a street, but i couldn't visualize the driver. that was all right. i didn't want to see him. i didn't know what julia was thinking. she said, "about those bags," and looked at me. the officer said, "yes, miss?" "i--i don't care about mine. i didn't have much of anything in it." "i feel the same way," i said. "would it be all right if we didn't bother to report it?" "well," the policeman said, "i can't _make_ you report it." "i'd rather not then," julia said. she turned to me. "i'd like some air. can't we walk a little?" "sure," i said. we started down the street, her arm in mine, as the air began to fill with the distant sounds of sirens. courtesy of the digital library@villanova university (http://digital.library.villanova.edu/)) motor stories thrilling adventure motor fiction no. sept. , five cents motor matt's "short circuit" or the mahout's vow _by the author of "motor matt"_ _street & smith publishers new york_ [illustration: _the huge beast towered above motor matt like a mountain, but the king of the motor boys held his ground._] motor stories thrilling adventure motor fiction _issued weekly. by subscription $ . per year. copyright, , by_ street & smith, _ - seventh avenue, new york, n. y._ no. . new york, september , . price five cents. motor matt's "short=circuit" or, the mahout's vow. by the author of "motor matt." contents chapter i. the serpent charmer. chapter ii. a bad elephant. chapter iii. burton's luck. chapter iv. motor matt's courage. chapter v. dhondaram's excuse. chapter vi. robbery. chapter vii. between the wagons. chapter viii. a peg to hang suspicions on. chapter ix. a waiting game. chapter x. a trick at the start. chapter xi. in the air with a cobra. chapter xii. a scientific fact. chapter xiii. ping on the wrong track. chapter xiv. facing a traitor. chapter xv. meeting the hindoo. chapter xvi. a bit of a backset. on the bahama reefs. the story of a wild goose. characters that appear in this story. =matt king=, otherwise motor matt. =joe mcglory=, a young cowboy who proves himself a lad of worth and character, and whose eccentricities are all on the humorous side. a good chum to tie to--a point motor matt is quick to perceive. =ping=, a chinese boy who insists on working for motor matt, and who contrives to make himself valuable, perhaps invaluable. =carl pretzel=, an old chum who flags motor matt and more trouble than he can manage, at about the same time. in the rôle of detective, he makes many blunders, wise and otherwise, finding success only to wonder how he did it. =dhondaram=, a hindoo snake charmer and elephant trainer, who is under an obligation to ben ali and gets into trouble while trying to discharge it. =andy carter=, ticket-man for burton's big consolidated shows; a traitor to his employer, and who emerges from his evil plots with less punishment than he deserves. =boss burton=, manager and proprietor of the "big consolidated," who, in his usual manner, forms hasty conclusions, discovers his errors, and shows no sign of repentance. =archie le bon=, a trapeze performer who swings on a flying bar under motor matt's aëroplane--and has a bad attack of nerves. =ben ali=, an old hindoo acquaintance who figures but briefly in the story. his vow, and the manner in which he sought its fulfillment, brings danger to the king of the motor boys. chapter i. the serpent charmer. a brown man in a white turban sat by the river. it was night, and a little fire of sticks sent strange gleams sparkling across the water, and touched the form of the brown man with splashes of golden light. the man was playing on a gourd flute. the music--if such it could be called--was in a high key, but stifled and subdued. under the man, to keep his crouching body from the earth, had been spread a piece of scarlet cloth. in front of him was a round wicker basket, perhaps a foot in diameter by six inches high. as the man played, the notes of the flute coming faster and faster, the lid of the basket began to tremble as by some pent-up force. finally the lid slid open, and a hooded cobra lifted its flat, ugly head. with eyes on those of the serpent charmer, the cobra began weaving back and forth in time to the music. now and then the snake would hiss and dart its head at the man. the latter would dodge to avoid the striking fangs, meanwhile keeping up his flute-playing. it was an odd scene, truly, to be going forward in a country like ours--cut bodily from the mysteries of india and dropped down on the banks of the wabash, there, near the intensely american city of lafayette. while the brown man was playing and the cobra swayed, and danced, and struck its lightning-like but ineffectual blows, another came into the ring of firelight, stepping as noiselessly as a slinking panther. he, like the other, wore a turban, and there was gold in his ears and necklaces about his throat. the first man continued his flute-playing. the other, with a soft laugh, went to the player's side, sank down, and riveted his own snakelike orbs upon the diamond eyes of the cobra. once the serpent struck at him, but he drew back and continued to look. with one hand the newcomer took the flute from the player's lips and laid it on the ground; then, in a silence broken only by the crackling fires, the eyes of the man snapped and gleamed and held those of the cobra. the effect was marvelous. slowly the cobra ceased its rhythmical movements and dropped down and down until it retreated once more into the basket; then, with a quick hand, the lid of the receptacle was replaced and secured with a wooden pin. "yadaba!" exclaimed the first man. "not here must you call me that, dhondaram," said the second. "i am known as ben ali." dhondaram spat contemptuously. "'tis a name of the turks," he grunted; "a dog's name." "it answers as well as any other." these men were hindoos, and their talk was in hindustani. "you sent for me at chicago," proceeded dhondaram; "you asked me to come to this place on the river, and to bring with me my most venomous cobra. see! i am here; and the cobra, you have discovered that the flute has no power to quiet its hostility. your eyes did that, yada--your pardon; i should have said ben ali. great is the power of your eyes. they have lost none of their charms since last we met." ben ali received this statement moodily. picking up a small pebble, he cast it angrily into the fire. "why have you brought me here?" inquired dhondaram, rolling a cigarette with materials taken from the breast of his flowing robe. "because," answered ben ali, "i have made a vow." "by krishna," and dhondaram threw himself forward to light his cigarette at the fire, "vows are evil things. they bring trouble--nothing less." "this one," hissed ben ali, "will bring trouble to an enemy of mine." "and to yourself, it may be," added dhondaram, resuming his squatting attitude on the scarlet cloth and whiffing a thin line of vapor into the air. "the goddess kali protects me," averred ben ali. "it is written in my forehead." "what else is written in your forehead?" asked dhondaram after a space. "what was it that caused you to send for me, and to ask me to leave my profitable work in the museum, come here, and bring the worst of my hooded pets?" ben ali, in the silence that followed, picked up more pebbles and cast them into the fire. "during the feast of nag-panchmi," he observed at last, "years since, dhondaram, a mad elephant crushed a boat on the ganges. you were in the boat, and i snatched you from certain death." dhondaram's face underwent a swift change. "that, also," he said in a subdued tone, "is written in my forehead. i remembered it when your letter came to me. i owe you obedience until the debt is paid. i am here, ben ali. command me." "_such baht!_ you, with the cobra, dhondaram, will go against my enemy and fulfill my vow. that will repay the debt." a look of fear crossed dhondaram's face. it passed quickly, but had not escaped the keen eyes of ben ali. "you are afraid!" and he sneered as he spoke. "and if i am?" protested the other. "i am bound to obey, and lose my life, if i must, in paying for the saving of it during the feast of nag-panchmi. who is your enemy, aurung zeeb?" ben ali struck the ground with his clinched fist. "aurung zeeb is a coward!" he exclaimed. "he fled and left me to work out my vengeance alone. _hurkutjee!_ let us speak no more of him. you knew of my brother, the rajah? how our sister married the _feringhi_, captain lionel manners, of the english army? how he died, and his wife perished in the _ghats_, by _suttee_? of the daughter they left, margaret manners? how, out of hatred to the rajah, i brought the girl to this country and destroyed her will by the power of the eyes? how we traveled with the show of burton sahib?" dhondaram nodded gravely. "i know," he replied. "but you do not know of the _feringhi_ boy, the one who flies in the bird machine, and who is called motor matt. because of him i have lost the girl, and she was making much money for me. i was _mahout_ in the show for burton sahib's worst elephant, rajah. no other could drive him, or take care of him. you are a _sapwallah_, a charmer of serpents, but you are also a charmer of elephants. you can drive them, dhondaram, as well as i. you can take care of this rajah beast as well as i." "i learned to work with the elephants from my brother, the _muni_," observed dhondaram. "you have lost the niece you called haidee?" "she is under the care of the british ambassador, but she is staying in this town. perhaps i may get her back--that i do not know. but my vow, dhondaram, against this _feringhi_ boy, motor matt. that is for you to carry out. he has wrecked my plans. i will wreck his. he has put me in danger of my life. through me, he shall be in danger of his own." "what am i to do?" queried dhondaram. "the show of burton sahib is some distance from here, but i will tell you how to find it. the cobra will help you join it, for burton sahib is always watching for performers. you must learn to do better with this cobra. by performing with the serpent before burton sahib, you will please him. he must have some one to take care of the elephant, rajah. you will apply for the place. ha! do you follow me?" dhondaram nodded. "when you have applied for the place i will tell you what to do. the air machine must be wrecked. rajah will do that. the _feringhi_ boy must be put where he will not interfere with my plans for my niece--the cobra _must do that_." dhondaram stirred restlessly. "the law of this country," he murmured, "has a long arm and a heavy fist." "if you do as i say," went on ben ali, "you will not be reached by the arm nor caught by the fist. you will be safe, and so will i; and the vow of ben ali will have been carried out." "you cannot do this yourself?" "i should be seized if i showed my face again in the show of burra burton! i should be thrown into the strong house of the _feringhis_ if i appeared among the tents. motor matt has said this, and he has the power to carry out his threat." "had motor matt the power to do this when he saved haidee?" "he had." "and he held his hand! why?" "because haidee was under the spell of my eyes. in order to free her, he had to bargain with me. the bargain was that i should go free, but never to trouble motor matt or the girl any more. with the girl in my hands, i could secure many rupees from my brother, the rajah, for her. and i hate that brother. he is rich, but he made me the keeper of his elephants! he lived in luxury, but i herded with the coolies." again ben ali struck his clinched fist on the earth. "it may be," said dhondaram, "that burton sahib has secured another keeper for the bad elephant, rajah? in that case, he would not want me." "it is not likely," returned ben ali. "all the other keepers are afraid of rajah. aurung zeeb was the only hindoo who could have managed rajah, and he dare not return to the show any more than i. burton sahib will want some one, and he will take you. you will go to him, perform with the cobra, win his favor. then, and not till then, you will ask for the post of elephant keeper. burton sahib, my word for it, will give you rajah to look after. then, my friend, you can carry out the terms of my vow. you will pay your debt, and we shall be quits. i shall have no further claim on you." "and i shall escape the arm of the _feringhi_ law?" "even so." "tell me what i am to do, and how." then, as the little tongues of flame threw their weird play of lights and shadows over the dusky plotters, the talk went on. chapter ii. a bad elephant. "great spark-plugs!" motor matt was passing the canvas walls of the menagerie tent of the "big consolidated" when a human form ricocheted over the top of it and landed directly in front of him on a pile of hay. the dropping of the man on the hay was accompanied by a wild sound which the king of the motor boys recognized as the trumpeting of an angry elephant. following this came the noise of quick movements on the other side of the wall, and hoarse voices giving sharp commands. matt ran to the man who had fallen on the hay. he was sitting up and staring about him blankly. "well, if it isn't archie le bon!" exclaimed matt. "what sort of way is that to come out of a tent, le bon?" "couldn't help myself, matt," was the answer. "a couple of tons of mad elephant gave me a starter. gee! no more of that in mine. i'm glad this hay happened to be here." le bon got up. evidently his brain was dizzy, for he supported himself against a guy rope. "was it rajah?" asked matt. "yes." "don't you know any better than to fool with that big lump of iniquity?" "i do now. burton has offered twenty-five dollars to any one connected with the show who'll take rajah out in the parade. thought i'd try it, and i began by doing my best to make friends with the brute. rajah was about two seconds wrapping his trunk around me and heaving me over the wall. i'm in luck at that, i suppose. the big fellow might have slammed me on the ground and danced a hornpipe on me." "you don't mean to say that burton is going to have rajah in the parade!" exclaimed matt. "says he is," answered le bon, "but i'll bet money he won't get any one to ride the elephant. you'd better trot along inside. your dutch pard, carl, had a row with me. we both wanted to try and manage rajah and annex the twenty-five, and the only way we could settle the question was by drawing straws. for all i know, carl may be trying to make friends with rajah now. head him off, matt, or there'll be a dead dutchman on the grounds." "carl must be crazy!" exclaimed matt, whirling around and darting under the canvas. archie le bon was an acrobat, and one of several brothers who had a hair-raising act in the circus ring; and if archie couldn't manage rajah, it was a foregone conclusion that carl wouldn't be able to. still, it was like carl to be willing to try something of the sort, and the young motorist was eager to call a halt in proceedings before it was too late. inside the "animal top" a crowd of men was belaboring rajah with clubs and sharp prods. the elephant, chained to stakes firmly planted in the ground, was backing away as far as the chains would permit, head up and trunk in the air. boss burton, proprietor and manager of the show, was directing operations. matt's dutch pard was very much in evidence. armed with a piece of sharpened iron, he was hopping around like a pea on a hot griddle, taking a hack at rajah every time he saw an opening. joe mcglory was hopping around, too, trying to grab the excited dutchman and snake him out of harm's way. suddenly rajah lowered his head and executed a wide sweep with his trunk, in a half circle. carl and a _mahout_ who had charge of the other elephants had their feet knocked from under them. the _mahout_ was thrown flat and quickly dragged to safety, while carl was stood on his head in a bucket--a bucket that happened to be filled with water. mcglory caught carl by the heels and dragged him out into the centre of the tent, the dutchman thrashing his arms and sputtering as he slid over the ground. "confound the brute!" roared boss burton; "i'll either take the kinks out of him and have him in the parade, or i'll shoot him. leave him alone for half an hour, and then we'll maul him some more. how's le bon?" "not a scratch," archie le bon answered for himself, coming in under the canvas. "but i might have had a broken head." "you've had enough?" queried burton. "a great plenty, thank you. i'm no elephant trainer, burton, and while i'd like to make a little extra money i guess i'll look for something that's more congenial." "dot's me, too," said carl to matt and mcglory. "i don'd vas some elephant trainers, i bed you. vat a ugliness old racha has! dot trunk oof his hit me like a railroadt train." "you were going to try and ride the elephant in the parade, carl?" demanded matt. "i vas t'inking oof id vonce, aber never any more. he iss vorse as i t'ought." "i heard what he was up to, matt," put in mcglory, "and hit the high places for here. arrived just in time to see le bon go out between the edge of the wall and the edge of the tent top. sufferin' skyrockets, but it was quick! everybody rushed at rajah, and carl was right in the thick of it. i thought he'd be smashed into a cocked hat before i could get hold of him." "who vas der feller vat left dot pucket oof vater in der vay?" grumbled carl, mopping his tow hair with a red cotton handkerchief. "id vas righdt under me ven i come down. i don'd like dot. id vas pad enough mitoudt any fancy drimmings in der vay oof a pail oof vater." "well, it's a lesson for you to leave rajah alone." "t'anks, i know dot. oof he vas der only elephant vat dere iss, i vouldn't haf nodding to do mit him. vile i'm vaiding for dot fordune to come from india i haf got to lif, but i vill shdarve pefore i dry to make a lifing taking care oof racha. br-r-r, you old sgoundrel!" and carl turned and shook his fist at rajah. just at this moment boss burton stepped up to matt and his friends. "here's a hard-luck proposition!" he glowered. "my biggest elephant raises cain in a way he never did while ben ali had charge of him. ben ali was a villain, but he knew how to manage elephants. but rajah goes in the parade, you can bet your pile on _that_." "you don't mean it, burton!" cried motor matt. "oh, don't i?" and there was a resolute gleam in the showman's eyes as he faced matt. "you watch and see," he added. "you're taking a lot of chances if you stick to that notion," grunted mcglory. "the brute's liable to smash a few cages and let loose a lion or two. by the time you foot the bill, burton, you'll find you're riding a mighty expensive hobby." "rajah goes in the parade," shouted the angry showman, "or i put a bullet into him. i've got my mad up now." "who'll take him?" queried matt. "if i can't find any one to put him through his paces, by gorry i'll do it myself!" "then the big consolidated," said mcglory, "might as well look for another boss." "see here, burton," went on matt, "you've been having the aëroplane tag your string of four elephants during the parade, and rajah's been at the end of the string and right in front of the flying machine. you've got to give the machine another place. i'll not take chances with it, if rajah's in the march. you ought to remember what a close call the brute gave us in lafayette." "nobody's going to change places in the parade!" declared burton. he was a man of mercurial temperament, and could only be managed by firmness. "either rajah stays out of the procession," exclaimed motor matt calmly, "or the _comet_ does." "and you can paste that in your hat, burton," added mcglory. "what pard matt says goes." "oh, hang it," growled burton, coming to his senses; "if you fellows bear down on me like that, of course you win out; but i hate to have a measly elephant butt into my plans and make me change 'em. now----" "say, mr. burton," spoke up a canvasman, stepping to the showman's side and touching his arm, "there's a dark-skinned mutt in a turban what wants ter see ye in the calliope tent." burton whirled on the canvasman. "dark skinned man in a turban?" he repeated. "does he look like a hindoo?" "dead ringer for one." "maybe it's ben ali----" "no, he ain't. i know ben ali, and this ain't him." "that tin horn won't show up among these tents in a hurry, burton," said mcglory. "he knows he'll get what's coming, if he does." "then," continued burton, "it's dollars to dimes it's aurung zeeb." "not him, neither," averred the canvasman. "this bloke wears a red tablecloth and carries a basket. looks ter me like he had somethin' he wanted ter sell." "i'll go and talk with him. come on, matt, you and mcglory." matt, mcglory, and carl followed the showman under the canvas and into the calliope "lean-to." here there was a chocolate-colored individual answering the canvasman's description. but he was not wearing the red tablecloth. instead, he had spread it on the ground and was sitting on it. in front of him was a round, flat-topped basket, and in his hands was a queer-looking musical instrument. "you want to see me?" demanded the showman, as he and the boys came to a halt in front of the hindoo. the latter swept his eyes over the little group. "you burton sahib?" he inquired, bringing his gaze to a rest on the showman. "yes," was the answer. "you look, see what i can do?" queried the hindoo. "if you've got something you want to sell----" "the honorable sahib makes the mistake. _dekke!_" then, with this native word, which signifies "look," the hindoo dropped his eyes to the round, flat basket and brought the end of the musical instrument to his lips. chapter iii. burton's luck. while the notes of the gourd flute echoed through the tent, the cover of the round basket began to quiver and shake. finally it slipped back, and there were startled exclamations and a brisk, recoiling movement on the part of the spectators as the head of a venomous cobra showed itself. "a snake charmer!" muttered burton, disappointment in his voice. "they're as common as albinos--and about as much of a drawing card." "that's a cobra di capello he's working with," remarked matt, staring at the snake with a good deal of interest. "i saw one in a museum once, and heard a lecturer talk about it. the lecturer said that the bite of a cobra is almost always fatal, and that there is no known antidote for the poison; that the virus works so quickly it is even impossible to amputate the bitten limb before the victim dies." "shnakes iss pad meticine," muttered carl, "und i don'd like dem a leedle pit." "sufferin' rattlers!" exclaimed mcglory. "i've been up against scorpions, gila monsters, and tarantulas, but blamed if i ever saw a snake in a sunbonnet before--like that one." the cobra's hood, which was fully extended, gave it the ridiculous appearance of wearing a bonnet, and there was something grewsome in the way the reptile's head swayed in unison with the flute notes. suddenly the head darted sideways. motor matt's quickness alone kept him from being bitten. he leaped backward, just in the nick of time to avoid the darting fangs. mcglory, wild with anger, picked up an iron rod that was used about the calliope and made a threatening gesture toward the snake. "speak to me about that!" he breathed. "what kind of a snake tamer are you, anyhow? if you think we're going to stand around and let that flat-necked poison thrower get in its work on us, you----" the cowboy made ready to use the rod, but matt caught his arm. "hold up, joe," said matt. "no harm has been done, and this is a mighty interesting performance." "aber der sharmer don'd vas aple to put der shnake to shleep mit itseluf," demurred carl. "der copra don'd seem to like der moosic any more as me." "probably the snake's fangs have been pulled," put in burton. "i know the tricks of these snake fakirs." "he got very good fangs, sahib," declared the hindoo, dropping the flute and getting up. "he pretty bad snake, hard to handle. now, watch." leaning forward, the hindoo made a quick grab and caught the snake about the neck with one hand. after whirling it three times around his head, he let it fall on the earth in front of him. to the surprise of the boys and burton, the cobra lay at full length, rigid and stiff, and straight as a yardstick. the serpent charmer then walked around the cobra, singing a verse of hindustani song. "la li ta la, ta perisi, la na comalay ah sahm-re, madna, ca-rahm ram li ta, co-co-la lir jhi! la li ta la, vanga-la ta perisi." "jupiter!" exclaimed burton. "i've heard the bengal girls chant that song when they went to the well, of an evening, with their water pitchers on their heads. that's the time i was in india after tigers." "_dekke!_" cried the hindoo; "i have killed my snake, my beautiful little snake! but i have a good cane to walk with." then, taking the rigid reptile up by the tail, he pretended to walk with it. "how you like to buy my cane, sahib?" he asked, swinging the cobra up so that its head was close to the young motorist's breast. matt shook his head and stepped quickly back. "take the blasted thing away!" snarled mcglory. "don't get so careless with it." "the snake's hypnotized," explained burton. "when he swung it around his head he put it to sleep." the hindoo smiled; then, thrusting the head of the rigid snake under his turban, he pushed it up and up until all but the tip of the tail had disappeared under the headdress. after that, with a quick move, he snatched off the turban. the venomous cobra was found in a glittering coil on his head. with both hands the hindoo lifted the drowsy cobra from his head, dropped it into the basket, closed the lid, and pushed the peg into place. "that's a pretty good show," remarked burton, "but it's old as the hills. where did you come from?" "chicago," replied the snake charmer. "i want a job with burton sahib." "what's your name?" "dhondaram." "there's not a thing i can give you to do in the big show," said burton, "but maybe the side show could find a place for you. snake charmers are side-show attractions, anyhow." dhondaram was giving most of his attention to matt, although speaking with burton. "he acts as though he knew you, pard," observed mcglory. dhondaram must have caught the words, for instantly he shifted his gaze from matt to the showman. "burra burton can't give me a job in the big show?" he went on. "no," was burton's decisive reply. "you're a hindoo. tell me, do you know a countryman of yours named ben ali?" dhondaram shook his head. "or aurung zeeb?" another shake of the head. dhondaram, seemingly in much disappointment, gathered up his scarlet robe and his basket and started out. "know of any one who can handle an elephant?" burton called after him. dhondaram whirled around, his eyes sparkling. "i handle elephants, sahib," he declared. "you can?" returned the showman jubilantly. "well, this is a stroke of luck, and no mistake. are you good at the job?" "good as you find," was the complacent response. "this elephant's a killer," remarked the showman cautiously. "he can't kill dhondaram, sahib," said the hindoo, with a confident smile. "he has just been in a tantrum, and threw one man through the tent." "the elephant, when he is mad, must be looked after with knowledge, sahib." "well, you come on, dhondaram, and we'll see how much knowledge you've got." dhondaram dropped in behind burton, and matt and his friends fell in behind dhondaram. together they repaired to the animal tent. "don't like the brown man's looks, hanged if i do, pard," muttered mcglory. "me, neider," added carl. "he iss like der shnake, i bed you--ready to shtrike ven you don't exbect dot. aber meppy he iss a goot hand mit der elephant. ve shall see aboudt dot." when they were back in the animal tent, burton and the boys found rajah still in vicious mood. straining at his chains, the big brute was swaying from side to side, reaching out with his trunk in every direction and trying to lay hold of something. "_himmelblitzen_, vat a ugly feller!" murmured carl, standing and staring. "he vouldt schust as soon kill somepody as eat a wad oof hay. you bed my life i vas gladt i gave oop trying to manach him." "there's the elephant, dhondaram," spoke up burton, pointing. "he's a killer, i tell you, and i'll not be responsible for damages." "i myself will be responsible, sahib," answered the hindoo. "hold my basket, sahib?" he asked, extending the receptacle toward carl. carl yelled and jumped back as though from a lighted bomb. "nod for a millyon tollars!" he declared. "take id avay." dhondaram smiled and placed the basket on the ground; then over it he threw the red robe. "_dekke_, sahibs," he remarked, taking a sharp-pointed knife from a sash about his waist. "look, and you will see how i manage the elephant in my own country." fearlessly he stepped forth and posted himself in front of rajah. it may be that the angry brute recognized something familiar in the hindoo's clothes, for he stopped lurching back and forth and watched the brown man. "you got to be brave, sahibs," remarked the hindoo, keeping his eyes on the elephant's. "if you have the fear, don't let the elephant see. the elephant is always a big coward, and he make trouble only when he think he got cowards to deal with. watch!" with that, dhondaram stepped directly up to the big head of rajah. up went the head, the trunk elevated and curved as though for a blow. matt and his friends held their breath, for it seemed certain the brown man would be crushed to death under their very eyes. but he was not. rajah's trunk did not descend. in a sharp, authoritative voice dhondaram began talking in his native tongue. every word was accompanied by a sharp thrust of the knife. the huge bulk of the elephant began to shiver and to recoil slowly, releasing the pull on the chains. presently the big head lowered and the trunk came down harmlessly. then, at a word from the hindoo, the elephant knelt lumberingly on his forward knees, stretching out his trunk rigidly. dhondaram stepped on the trunk and was lifted, gently and safely, to the broad neck. at another word of command, rajah rose, and dhondaram, from his elevated place, smiled and saluted. "it is easy, sahibs," said he. "this elephant is not a bad one." burton clapped his hands. "do you want a job as rajah's _mahout_?" he asked. "yes," was the answer. the showman turned to matt. "are you willing to take the _comet_ in the parade with rajah," he inquired, "now that we have a better driver than even ben ali to look after the brute?" "dhondaram is a marvel!" exclaimed matt. "yes, burton, we'll be in the parade with the aëroplane." "good! hustle around and get ready. there's not much time. come down, dhondaram, and get the blankets on rajah. the parade will start in half an hour." the boys hurried out of the tent and into the calliope "lean-to." the _comet_ had to be put in readiness, and mcglory and ping, the chinese boy, had costumes to put on. chapter iv. motor matt's courage. during the exhibition at lafayette, indiana, the _comet_ had caught fire while in the air and the king of the motor boys had made a dangerous descent in safety. the machine had been damaged, however, and, when the show left the town, matt and his friends had remained behind to make repairs. these repairs had occupied two days. when they were finished, matt and mcglory had rejoined the show, flying from lafayette in the aëroplane and scattering burton's handbills over the country as they came. carl pretzel and ping, the chinaman, had caught up with the show by train, there being no place for them on the _comet_. the flight through the air had been made in the face of a tolerably stiff breeze, and matt and mcglory had found it necessary to lie over almost the entire night on account of a high wind. the flying machine, however, had caught up with the show that very morning. the big consolidated had pitched its tents in the outskirts of jackson, michigan, just across the railroad tracks on the road to wolf lake. matt's work, for which he and his friends were receiving five hundred and fifty dollars a week, was to drive the aëroplane, under its own power, in the parade, and to give two flights daily on the grounds--one immediately after the parade and the other before the evening performance--wind and weather permitting. during these flights archie le bon was carried up on a trapeze under the flying machine. when the boys reached the place where the aëroplane had been left in charge of ping, they began at once replenishing the gasoline and oil tanks and seeing that everything was shipshape for the journey on the bicycle wheels. ping, while primarily one of the _comet's_ attendants, had also shown a decided regard for the steam calliope. the calliope operator was teaching him to play a tune on the steam sirens, in return for which attention the chinaman always provided the musical instrument with the water necessary to make the steam that operated the whistles. knowing that he would have to look after the aëroplane, ping had performed his calliope duties early in the day. the arrival of carl with matt and mcglory was a distinct disappointment to ping. he and the dutch boy had had a set-to at the time of their first meeting, and, although matt had made them shake hands, yet there still rankled in their bosoms a feeling of hostility toward each other. nevertheless, they kept this animosity in the background whenever matt or mcglory was near them. during the trip from lafayette to jackson on the train the two had ridden in different cars. they were not on speaking terms when away from matt king and his cowboy pard. carl was just beginning his engagement with the big consolidated. he was traveling with the show while waiting for some money to reach him from india. there was nothing for him to do about the _comet_, so he secured a job playing the banjo in the side show while a so-called zulu chief performed a war dance on broken glass in his bare feet. when the flying machine was in readiness the wagons and riders were already forming for the parade. "you'll have to hustle to get into your clothes, joe," said matt, "you and ping. get a move on, now. while you're away i'll watch the _comet_." mcglory and ping started at once for the calliope tent, which they used as general rendezvous and dressing room. they rode on the machine in costume--mcglory in swell cowboy regalia and ping in a barbaric get-up that made him look as though he had tumbled off a last year's christmas tree. carl had nothing to do until after the aëroplane flight, and so he remained with matt until the procession started. "here comes dot pad elephant, racha," murmured carl, pointing to the string of four elephants lumbering in their direction from the animal tent. "der hintoo iss pooty goot ad bossing der elephant, aber i don'd like his looks." "he's all right, carl," laughed matt easily. "it's rajah's looks you don't like." "vell, i dell you somet'ing, bard. oof der elephant geds his madt oop, all you got to do is to turn some veels und sail indo der air mit der _gomet_." "we couldn't do that. when the _comet_ takes to the air she has to have a running start. there's no chance for such a start while we're in the parade." "so? vell, keep your eyes shkinned bot' vays und look oudt for yourseluf. i got some hunches alretty dot you vill haf drouples." "we'll not have any trouble," returned matt confidently. a few minutes after the elephants had dropped into line in front of the aëroplane, mcglory, his big spurs clinking at his heels, and ping, rattling with tin ornaments and spangles, ran toward the _comet_. ping was helped to the upper wing, and matt and mcglory took their places in the seats on the lower plane. carl drew off and cast a gloomy look at ping, sitting cross-legged on the overhead plane and languidly beating the air with a fan. "you look like nodding vat i efer see!" whooped carl, envious to a degree that brought out the sarcastic words in spite of himself. "my see plenty things likee dutchy boy when my no gottee gun," chattered ping. "py shinks," rumbled carl, beside himself, "i vill make you eat dose topacco tags vat you haf on!" "makee tlacks," answered ping, with a maddening wave of the fan; "makee tlacks to side show and plingee-plunk for zulu man! my makee lide in procesh." the chinaman's lordly way worked havoc with carl's nerves. he howled angrily and rushed forward. at just that moment the parade got under way, and the aëroplane lurched and swayed across the ground toward the road. "carl," cried matt sternly, "keep away!" the dutch boy had to content himself with drawing back, shaking his fist at the glittering form on the upper wing of the aëroplane, and saying things to himself. the parade was but a wearying repetition of the many matt, mcglory, and ping had already figured in. the glitter of tinsel, the shimmer of mirrors, the prancing steeds and their mediæval riders, the funny clowns, the camels and elephants, and the blare of the bands had long since lost their glamour. for matt and his friends the romance had died out, and they were going about their work on a business basis. the motor boys and their gasoline air ship always commanded attention and were loudly cheered. the fame of motor matt's exploits had been told in handbills and dodgers by the clever showman, and, too, burton had seen to it that the young motorist secured ample space in the newspapers. this, naturally, aroused a great deal of interest, and it had long ago been conceded that burton's greatest attractions were matt and his aëroplane. rajah was a very good elephant during the entire parade. as usual, his mate, delhi, marched ahead of him, and always had a pacifying effect. dhondaram, perched on rajah's neck, kept the huge brute lumbering in a straight line. but it seemed strange to matt and mcglory that rajah, after his fit of madness, could be so suddenly brought into subjection. "i'll bet my spurs," remarked mcglory, early in the parade, "that rajah will cut up a caper yet." "if he does," answered matt, "i hope the _comet_ will be out of his way. but this dhondaram, joe, seems to be an a one _mahout_, and i believe he can hold rajah down." it was about half-past eleven when the dusty paraders began filing back into the show grounds, the cages pulling into the menagerie tent, the riders taking their horses to the stable annex, and matt driving the aëroplane to the spot from which the first exhibition flight of the day was to be made. "you and ping go and peel off your show togs," said matt to mcglory, as soon as the _comet_ had been brought to a halt and he and his friends had dropped off the machine, "and then come back and take charge of the start. i've got to fix that electric wiring, or i'll get short-circuited while i'm up with le bon." he pulled off his coat while he was speaking, and dropped coat and hat on the ground; then, as mcglory and ping made their way toward the calliope tent through a gathering throng of sightseers, the young motorist opened a tool box and stepped around toward the rear of the aëroplane to get at the battery and adjust the connections. a sharp tent stake, carelessly dropped by one of the show's employees, lay in the way and matt kicked it aside. he gave a look around, and saw that dhondaram was having some trouble getting rajah into the menagerie tent. thinking nothing of this, matt proceeded to the rear of the planes and threw himself across the lower wing, close to the motor and the battery. while he was busily at work he heard a series of startled yells, apparently coming from the crowd that was massing to witness the flight of the _comet_. withdrawing hastily from his place on the lower plane of the machine, matt dropped to the ground and ran around the ends of the right-hand wings. what he saw was enough to play havoc with the strongest nerves. right and left the crowd was scattering in a veritable panic, and through the lane thus made came rajah, hurling himself along in a direct line for the _comet_. there was no one on the animal's back, and the gay trappings which covered him were fluttering and snapping in the wind of his flight. rajah had always had a dislike for the aëroplane. its ungainly form seemed to annoy him. in the present instance this was no doubt a fortunate thing. had the brute not kept his attention on the air ship, he might have turned on the frightened throng and either killed or injured a dozen people. motor matt knew rajah was charging the _comet_, and the lad's first impulse was to get out of the way; then, reflecting that he and his friends stood to lose the aëroplane unless he made a decided stand of some sort, he caught up the tent stake, which lay near at hand, and jumped fearlessly in front of the flying machine. this move was not all recklessness on matt's part. he recalled what dhondaram had said to the effect that an elephant was a coward, and brave only when he had cowardly human beings to deal with. well behind rajah came a detachment of canvasmen, carrying ropes and iron bars, and one armed with a rifle. the king of the motor boys had seen these men, and he knew that if he could keep rajah from his work of destruction until the men had had time to come up the _comet_ would be saved. cries of consternation went up from the spectators as they saw the elephant plunge toward matt. the lad gave a fierce shout as the brute drew close, and waved the tent stake. "get out of the way, king! out of the way, or you'll be killed!" this was burton's voice ringing in matt's ears, and coming from he knew not where. but the command had no effect on the daring young motorist. he did not move from his position. rajah wavered. although he slackened his headlong rush, he still continued to come on. when he was close, and matt could look into his vicious little eyes, he halted, crouched back, and lifted his trunk. the lad jumped forward and began to use the pointed end of the stake vigorously. rajah's head was up, and his sinuous trunk twined in the air. the huge beast towered above motor matt like a mountain, but the king of the motor boys held his ground. chapter v. dhondaram's excuse. what might have happened to matt had not the canvasmen arrived while he was pluckily facing and prodding rajah, it is hard to say. certainly the young motorist's brave stand held the elephant at bay and saved the aëroplane. before rajah could make up his mind to strike matt down and trample over him to the _comet_, the frenzied brute was assailed on all sides and, under the angry direction of boss burton, was beaten into a state of sullen obedience. "where's that confounded hindoo?" roared burton, as two of the other elephants hauled rajah off toward the animal tent. mcglory, in his shirt sleeves, pushed through the crowd and up to the aëroplane in time to hear the question. "dhondaram is up there in the calliope tent," said the cowboy; "leastways he was a while ago. when ping and i dropped into the lean-to to change our togs, the hindoo was stretched on the floor, groaning like a man who was having a fit. he didn't seem to be so terribly bad off, in spite of the way he was taking on, and i didn't have much time to strip off my puncher clothes and get back here. just as i got into my regular make-up, and before i could take another look at dhondaram, a fellow ran by and yelled that rajah was runnin' wild again and headin' for the _comet_. that was enough for me, and i hustled hot foot for here. i saw you, pard," and here the cowboy turned to matt, "standing off that big brute with a tent stake. speak to me about that! say, i'm a piegan if i ever thought you'd get out of that mix with your scalp." "it was a fool thing you did, king," growled burton, very much worked up over the way events had fallen out. "you had about one chance in a hundred of getting out alive. what did you do it for?" "there wasn't any other chance of saving the _comet_," answered matt, a bit shaken himself now that it was all over and he realized how close a call he had had. "your life, i suppose, isn't worth anything in comparison with the value of this aëroplane," scoffed burton. "that sort of talk is foolish, burton," said matt. "i remembered what dhondaram had said about not being a coward around rajah, so i jumped in and got between the elephant and the machine. but there's no use talking now. the aëroplane has been saved, and there's nothing much the matter with me." "there _is_ some use of talking," snapped burton. "here comes dhondaram, with ping. now we can find out how rajah got away. dhondaram has starred himself--i don't think. if that's the best he can do, on his first try-out, i might as well give him the sack right here." the hindoo and the chinese boy were coming through the excited crowd toward the aëroplane. dhondaram staggered as he walked, and there was a wild look in his face. "what's the matter with you, dhondaram?" demanded burton sharply, as the eyes of the little group near the _comet_ turned curiously on the hindoo. "i was sick, sahib," mumbled the brown man, laying both hands on the pit of his stomach and rolling his eyes upward. "sick?" echoed burton incredulously. "it must have come on you mighty sudden." "it did, sahib. i came in from the parade, then all at once i could not see and grew weak--_jee_, yes, so weak i could not stay on rajah's back, but fell to the ground and lay there for a moment, not knowing one thing. when i came to myself i was in a tent, and the _feringhi_ sahib,"--he pointed to mcglory--"and the chinaman sahib were getting clear of their clothes. when i get enough strength, i come here. _such bhat_, sahib. what i say is true." "you had rajah properly tamed," went on burton; "i never saw him act better in the parade than he did this morning. what caused him to make such a dead set at this flying machine the moment you dropped off his back?" "who can say, sahib?" asked dhondaram humbly. "he not like the machine, it may be. has he a cause to dislike the bird-wagon? the elephant, burton sahib, never forgets. a hundred years is to him as a day when it comes to remembering." one of the canvasmen stepped up and asserted that he had seen dhondaram drop off rajah's back and then get up and reel away. thereupon the canvasman, expecting trouble, called for some of the other animal trainers, and they picked up the first things they could lay hands on and started after the charging elephant. this was corroborative of the hindoo's story, as was also the statement made by mcglory. "are you subject to attacks like that?" queried burton, with a distrustful look at the new _mahout_. "not at all, sahib," replied the hindoo glibly. "it was the first stroke of the kind i have ever suffered. by krishna, i hope and believe it will be the last." "well," remarked burton grimly, "if you ever have another, you'll be cut out of this aggregation of the world's wonders. now hike for the menagerie and do your best to curry rajah down again." without a word dhondaram wheeled and vanished into the crowd. mcglory turned, caught matt's arm, and pulled him off to one side. "what's your notion about this, pard?" he asked. "i haven't any," said matt. "it's something to think over, joe, and not form any snap judgments." the cowboy scowled. "these hindoos are all of the same breed, i reckon," he muttered, "and you know what sort of fellows ben ali and aurung zeeb turned out to be." matt nodded thoughtfully. "i don't believe one of the turban-tops is to be depended on," proceeded mcglory. "they're all underhand and sly, and not one of 'em, as i size it up, but would stand up a stage or snake a game of faro if he got the chance." "there you go with your snap judgment," laughed matt. "it's right off the reel, anyhow," continued mcglory earnestly. "that rajah critter was as meek as pie all through the parade. it don't seem reasonable that he'd take such a dead set at the _comet_ all at once. and, as for dhondaram getting an attack of cramps, he stood about as much chance of that as of bein' struck by lightning." matt was silent. "blamed queer," continued mcglory, "that ben ali and aurung zeeb should drop out, and then, two days after, this other hindoo should show up. for a happenchance, pard, it's too far-fetched. there's something rotten about it." "what had dhondaram got against the _comet_?" asked matt. "i pass that." "you're hinting, in a pretty broad way, joe, that the new _mahout_ deliberately set rajah on to smash the aëroplane." "then i won't hint, pard, but will come out flat-footed. that's just what i think he did." "why?" "you've got to have a reason for everything? well, i haven't any reason for that, but i think it, all the same." "ping!" called matt. the chinese boy was standing by the front of the aëroplane, patting the forward rudders affectionately, looking at the machine with a fond eye, and apparently exulting over the fact that it had been saved from destruction. at matt's call, the boy whirled around and ran toward his two friends. "whatee want, motol matt?" he asked. "you came here with the hindoo," said matt. "how was that?" "my follow hindoo flom tent. him no gettee sick. my savvy. when mcgloly makee lun flom tent, hindoo jump to feet chop-chop, feel plenty fine. him makee play 'possum. whoosh! when him come, my come, too." "talk about that!" exclaimed mcglory. "worse, and more of it. there's a hen on of some kind, pard." "ping," proceeded matt, "i've got a job for you." "bully!" cried the chinaman delightedly. "what i want you to do," said matt, "is to watch dhondaram. don't let him see you at it, mind, but just dodge around, keep tab on him, and don't let him suspect what you're doing." "hoop-ala!" said ping, delighted at having such a piece of work come his way. "think you can attend to that?" "can do! you bettee. my heap smarter than hindoo. you watchee, find um out." "all right, then. away with you." ping darted off toward the animal tent. at that moment burton hurried up. "better get busy and make your ascent, matt," said burton. "the crowd's all worked up about that elephant business, and the quickest way to get the people's minds off it is by giving them something else to watch and talk about." "i'll start at once," replied matt, taking his seat in his accustomed place on the lower plane. "let her flicker, joe." the king of the motor boys "turned over" the engine, switched the power into the bicycle wheels, and the _comet_, pushed by mcglory and half a dozen canvasmen, raced along the hard ground for a running start. chapter vi. robbery. motor matt made as graceful an ascent and as pretty a flight in the aëroplane as any he had ever attempted. archie le bon, swinging below the machine on a trapeze, put the finishing touch to the performance by doing some of the most hair-raising stunts. loud and prolonged were the cheers that floated up to the two with the _comet_, and there was not the least doubt but that the aëroplane had successfully diverted the minds of the spectators from the recent trouble with rajah. after the _comet_ had fluttered back to earth, and the crowd had drifted away toward the side show, matt and mcglory left a canvasman in charge of the machine and dropped in at the cook tent for a hurried meal. there was now nothing for the two chums to do until the next flight of the day, which was billed to take place at half-past six. "did you ever have a feeling, pard," said the cowboy, as he and matt were leaving the mess tent and walking across the grounds toward the calliope "lean-to," "that there was a heap of trouble on the pike, and all of it headed your way?" "i've had the feeling, joe," laughed matt. "got it now?" "no." "well, i have." mcglory halted and looked skyward, simultaneously lifting his handkerchief to test the strength and direction of the wind. watching the weather had become almost a second nature with the cowboy since he and matt had been with the big consolidated. aëroplane flights are, to a greater or less extent, at the mercy of the weather, and the more wind during an ascension then the greater the peril for motor matt. "think the weather is shaping up for a gale this afternoon, joe?" queried matt. "nary, pard. there's not a cloud in the sky, and it's as calm a day as any that ever dropped into the almanac." "not exactly the day to worry, eh?" "well, no; but i'm worrying, all the same. what are you going to do now?" "catch forty winks of sleep in the calliope tent. we didn't get our full share of rest last night, and i'm feeling the need of it." when they got to the "lean-to" matt laid a horse blanket on the ground, close to the wheels of the canvas-covered calliope, and stretched himself out on it. a band was playing somewhere about the grounds, and the sound lulled him into slumber. the cowboy was not sleepy, and he was too restless to stay in the "lean-to." matt was hardly asleep before mcglory had left on some random excursion across the grounds. a man entered the calliope tent. he came softly, and halted as soon as his eyes rested on the sprawled-out form of motor matt. the man was dhondaram. a burning light arose in the dusky eyes as they continued to rest on the form of the sleeper. for some time the doors leading into the "big show" had been open. crowds were entering the menagerie tent, and passing from there into the "circus top." the noise was steady and continuous, so that it was impossible for matt, who was usually a light sleeper, to hear the entrance of the hindoo. dhondaram lingered for several minutes. he had not his flat-topped basket with him, and he whirled abruptly and hurried out of the "lean-to." from the look that flamed in the face of the hindoo as he left, it seemed as though he was intending to return again--and to bring the cobra with him. he had not been gone many minutes, however, when boss burton entered the calliope tent. this was where he usually met the man from the ticket wagon, as soon as the receipts had been counted and put up in bags, received the money, and carried it to the bank. this part of the work had to be accomplished before three o'clock in the afternoon, as the banks closed at that hour. the money from the evening performance always accompanied burton in the sleeping car on the second section of the show train, and was deposited in the next town on the show's schedule. burton did not see matt lying on the ground, close up to the calliope, and seated himself on an overturned bucket and lighted a cigar. the weed was no more than well started, when dhondaram, carrying his basket, appeared softly in the entrance. at sight of burton, the hindoo stifled an exclamation and came to a startled halt. "what's wrong with you?" demanded the showman. "nothing at all, sahib," answered dhondaram, recovering himself. "feeling all right now?" "yes, sahib." "good!" without lingering for further talk, dhondaram faced about and glided away. the conversation between the showman and the hindoo had awakened matt. the young motorist sat up blinking and looked at burton. he knew how the proprietor of the big consolidated always met the ticket man in the calliope tent, about that time in the afternoon, and checked up and received the proceeds for deposit in the local bank. "much of a crowd, burton?" called matt. "oh, ho!" he exclaimed. "you've been taking a snooze, eh?" "a short one. trying to make up for a little sleep i lost last night. what time is it, burton?" "about half-past two. say," and it was evident from burton's manner that the thought flashing through his brain had come to him suddenly, "i want to talk with you a little about that dutch pard of yours." "go ahead," said matt, leaning back against one of the calliope wheels; "what about carl?" "is he square?" continued burton. "square?" repeated matt. "why, he's as honest a chap as you'll find anywhere. if he wasn't, he wouldn't be training with mcglory and me. you ought to know that, burton." "you ain't infallible, i guess. eh, matt? you're liable to make mistakes, now and then, just like anybody else." "i suppose so, but i know carl too well to make any mistake about _him_. what gave you the idea he was crooked?" "i never had the idea," protested burton. "i just asked for information, that's all. he came to the show on your recommendation, and i've taken him in, but i like to have a line on the people i get about me." "there's more to it than that," said matt, studying burton's face keenly. "out with it, burton." "well, then, i don't like the dutchman's looks," acknowledged burton. "ping told me----" "oh, that's it!" muttered matt. "ping told you--what?" "why, that he caught the dutchman going through his pockets last night. if that's the kind of fellow carl is, i----" "take my word for it, burton," interrupted matt earnestly, "my dutch pard is on the level. he makes a blunder, now and then, but he's one of the best fellows that ever lived." "what did ping talk to me like that for?" "he and carl don't hitch. there's a little petty rivalry between them, and they're a bit grouchy." "is ping so grouchy that he's trying to make people believe carl's a thief?" "ping is a chinaman, and he has his own ideas about what's right and wrong. i'll talk to him about this, though." "you'd better. certainly you don't want one of your pards circulating false reports about another." burton looked at his watch impatiently. "i wonder where andy is?" he muttered, "he's behindhand, now, and if he delays much longer, i'll not be able to get to the bank before closing time." "he may have had such a big afternoon's business," suggested matt, "that it's taking him a little longer to get the money counted, and into the bags." "the business was only fair--nothing unusual. andy has had plenty of time to sack up the money and get here with it." andy carter was the ticket man. he was middle-aged, an expert accountant, and was usually punctual to the minute in fulfilling his duties to his employer. "have you seen anything of dhondaram lately?" matt inquired casually. "he blew in here with his little basket just before you woke up. didn't you see him?" "i heard you talking," answered matt, "and that's what wakened me, but i didn't see who you were talking with. did he get rajah under control again, burton?" a puzzled look crossed the showman's face. "he can manage that big elephant as easily as i can manage a tame poodle, and he wasn't two minutes with the brute before he had him as meek as moses. what i can't understand is how rajah ever broke away and went on the rampage like he did." "there are others on this ground who deserve your suspicions a whole lot more than my dutch pard," observed matt. "you mean that i'd better be watching dhondaram?" "not at all," was the reply. matt was already having the hindoo watched, so it was hardly necessary for burton to attend to the matter. "the hindoo's actions are queer." "hindoos are a queer lot, anyhow. but they're good elephant trainers, and that's the point that gets me, just now." "where did dhondaram say he----" motor matt got no further with his question. just at that moment a man reeled through the entrance. his hat was gone, his coat was torn, and there was a bleeding cut on the side of his face. with a gasp, he tumbled to his knees in front of burton. "great jupiter!" exclaimed burton, leaping to his feet. "andy! what's happened to you?" "robbed!" breathed the ticket man, swaying and holding both hands to his throat; "knocked down and robbed of two bags of money that i was bringing here. i--i----" by then the startled matt was also on his feet. "who did it?" shouted the exasperated burton. "did you see who did it? speak, man!" but carter was unable to speak. overcome by what he had passed through, he crumpled down at full length and lay silent and still at the showman's feet. chapter vii. between the wagons. excitement, and a certain reaction which follows all such shocks as the ticket man had been subjected to, had brought on a fainting spell. a little water soon revived carter, and he was laid on the blanket from which matt had gotten up a little while before. "now tell me about the robbery," said burton, "and be quick. while we're wasting time here, the thieves are getting away. i can't afford to let 'em beat me out of the proceeds of the afternoon's show. who did it, carter?" "i don't know, burton," was the answer. "don't know?" repeated the showman blankly. "can't tell who knocked you down and lifted the two bags, when it was done in broad day! what are you givin' us?" he added roughly. "it's a fact, burton," persisted carter. "i was hit from behind and could not see the man who struck me." "you've got a cut on your face. how do you account for that if, as you say, you were struck from behind?" "the blow i received threw me forward against a wagon wheel. the tire cut my cheek. i dropped flat, and didn't know a thing. when i came to myself, of course, the money was gone." "here's a pretty kettle of fish, and no mistake!" fumed burton. "how much money did you have, andy?" "a little over eighteen hundred dollars." "eighteen hundred gone to pot! by jupiter, i won't stand for that. can't you think of _some_ clue, andy? pull your wits together. it isn't possible that a hold-up like that could take place in broad day without leaving some clue behind. think, man!" "maybe that new dutch boy could give you a clue," replied carter. "he's a friend of motor matt's, isn't he?" "he's a pard of matt's," said burton, casting a significant look at the king of the motor boys. "what makes you think he might give us a clue? don't hang fire, andy! every minute we delay here is only that much time lost. go on--and speak quick." "i had just left the ticket wagon," pursued carter, trying to talk hurriedly, "when the dutchman stepped up to me. he wanted a word in private, as he said, and i told him he'd have to wait until some other time. he said he couldn't wait, and that what he had to tell me was important. i couldn't get away from him, and i agreed to listen to what he had to say providing he didn't delay me more than two or three minutes. with that, he led me around back of the "circus top" and in between two canvas wagons. that's when i got struck from behind." motor matt listened to this in blank amazement. boss burton swore under his breath. "it's a cinch the dutchman had a hand in the robbery," the showman declared. "he lured andy in between the wagons, and it was there that some of the dutchman's confederates knocked andy down and lifted the bags. if we can lay hands on this carl, we'll have one of the thieves." "don't be too sure of that," interposed matt. "carl pretzel never did a dishonest thing in his life, and i'm sure he can explain this." "don't let your regard for the dutchman blind you to what's happened, matt," warned the showman. "the only thing he asked andy to go in between the wagons for was so that the dastardly work would be screened from the eyes of people around the grounds." he turned away, adding: "we'll have to hunt for carl--and it will be a hunt, i'll be bound. unless i miss my guess, he and his confederates are a good ways from here with that eighteen hundred dollars." burton ran toward the tent door, followed by matt. before either of them could pass out, carl and mcglory stepped through and stood facing them. carl had a red cotton handkerchief tied round the back of his head. "here he is, by thunder!" cried the surprised burton. "so, you see," spoke up matt, "he didn't run away, after all." "it's some kind of a bluff he's working," went on burton doggedly. "i want you," he added, and dropped a heavy hand on carl's shoulder. "for vy iss dot?" inquired carl. "what do you want the boy for?" said mcglory. "he helped steal eighteen hundred dollars the ticket man was bringing over here for me to take to the bank," said burton; "that's what i want him for." "iss he grazy?" gasped carl, falling weakly against mcglory. "vat dit i do mit der money oof i took it, hey? und ven dit i take it, und vere it vas? by shinks," and carl rubbed a hand over his bandaged head, "i'm doing t'ings vat i don'd know nodding aboudt. somepody blease tell me vat i peen oop to." "don't you get gay," growled burton. "it won't help your case any." "give me the straight o' this," demanded mcglory. burton stepped back and waved a hand in the direction of andy carter. "look at andy!" he exclaimed. "he's been beaten up and robbed of two bags of money that he was bringing here. the dutchman lured him in between a couple of canvas wagons, and that's where the job was pulled off." "speak to me about this!" murmured the dazed mcglory. "what about it, matt?" he added. matt did not answer, but stepped over to carl. "why did you ask carter to step in between the wagons, carl?" the young motorist asked. "pecause i vanted to shpeak mit him alone by himseluf," answered carl. "vat's der odds aboudt der tifference, anyvay?" "what did you want to speak with him about?" "vell, i don'd like blaying der pancho for dot zulu feller. i dit id vonce, und den fired meinseluf. vat i vant iss somet'ing light und conshenial--hantling money vould aboudt suit me, i bed you. dot's vat i vanted to see der ticket feller aboudt. i vanted to ask him vould he blease gif me some chob in der ticket wagon, und i took him off vere ve could haf some gonversations alone. dot's all aboudt it, und oof i shtole some money, vere it iss, und vy don'd i got it? tell me dot!" "that's a raw bluff you're putting up," scowled burton. "you're nobody's fool, even if you do try to make people think so." "i ain't your fool, neider," cried carl, warming up. "you can't make some monkey-doodle pitzness oudt oof me. you may own der show und be a pig feller, aber i got some money meinseluf oof it efer geds here from inchia, so for vy should i vant to svipe your money, hey?" "what happened between the wagons, carl?" went on matt. "just keep your ideas to yourself, burton," he added, "and don't accuse carl until he has a chance to give his side of the story. did you see the man who knocked carter down?" "i don'd see nodding," said carl. "do you mean to say," asked carter, rising up on the blanket, "that i wasn't knocked down?" "i don'd know vedder or nod you vas knocked down. how could i tell dot?" "you were there with carter--there between the wagons," cried burton angrily. "why shouldn't you have seen what happened?" "look here vonce." carl pulled off his cap and bent his head. "feel dere," he went on, touching the back of his head. "be careful mit your feelings, oof you blease, und tell me vat you findt." "a lump," said matt. "ouch!" whimpered carl. "it vas so sore as i can't tell. my headt feels like a parrel, und hurts all ofer. dot's der reason i ditn't see vat habbened. i vas knocked down meinseluf, und it must haf peen aboudt der same time der dicket feller keeled ofer." "there you have it, burton," said matt, facing the showman. "carl wanted a job in the ticket wagon, and thought he might get it by talking with andy carter. when they got in between the wagons they were both knocked down." "rot!" ground out burton. "why didn't carter see the dutchman when he came to? or why didn't the dutchman see carter, if he got back his wits first?" "carl was looking for carter when i met up with him," put in mcglory. "the dutchman wasn't near the wagons when i recovered my senses," came from the ticket man. "und i don'd know vedder you vas dere or nod, carter," explained carl. "ven i got to know vere i vas at, i foundt meinseluf vanderin' around mit a sore headt. but i tell you somet'ing, burton. i peen a tedectif, und a fine vone. how mooch you gif me oof i findt der t'ieves und recofer der money? huh?" "i believe you know where that money is, all right," declared the showman, "and if you think i'm going to pay you something for giving it back, you're wrong. if you want to save yourself trouble, you'll hand over the funds." "you talk like you vas pug-house!" said carl. "i ain't got der money." "who helped you steal it?" "nopody! i ditn't know it vos shtole ondil you shpeak aboudt it." "stop that line of talk, burton," put in matt. "carl's story is straight, and it satisfies me." "how much money did the dutchman have when he came here this morning?" asked burton. "t'irty cents," replied carl. "modor matt paid my railroadt fare from lafayette to chackson." "search him, mcglory," ordered burton. "let's see if he has anything about his clothes that will prove his guilt." carl began to laugh. "what's the joke?" snorted burton. "vy," was the answer, "to t'ink i haf eighdeen huntert tollars aboudt me und don't know dot. go on mit der search, mcglory." carl lifted his hands above his head, and the cowboy began pushing his hands into carl's pockets. in the second pocket he examined he found something which he pulled out and held up for the observation of all. it was a canvas sack, lettered in black, "burton's big consolidated shows." "one of the bags that held the money!" exclaimed carter. "i told you so!" whooped burton. matt and mcglory were astounded. and so was carl--so dumfounded that he was speechless. chapter viii. a peg to hang suspicions on. "vell, oof dot don'd grab der banner!" mumbled carl, when he was finally able to speak. "i hat dot in my bocket und don'd know nodding aboudt it! somepody must haf put him dere for a choke." "that's a nice way to explain it!" growled burton. "it cooks your goose, all right. anything in the bag, mcglory?" "nary a thing," answered the bewildered cowboy, turning the bag inside out. "go on with the search," ordered burton. mechanically the cowboy finished looking through the dutch boy's clothes, and all the money he found consisted of two ten-cent pieces and a couple of nickels. "where did you hide that money?" demanded burton sternly, stepping in front of carl. "i don'd hite it no blace," cried carl. "you make me madt as some vet hens ven you talk like dot. ged avay from me or i vill hit you vonce." "carter," went on burton in a voice of suppressed rage, "call a policeman." the ticket man had scrambled to his feet, and he now made a move in the direction of the tent door. "hold up, carter!" called matt; then, turning to burton, he went on: "you're not going to arrest carl, burton, unless you want this outfit of aviators to quit you cold." the red ran into burton's face. "are you trying to bulldoze me?" he demanded. "i've got eighteen hundred dollars at stake, and i'm not going to let it slip through my fingers just because you fellows threaten to leave the show and take the aëroplane with you. i tell you frankly, king, i don't like the way you're talking and acting in this matter. we've got good circumstantial evidence against your dutch friend, and he ought to be locked up." "i admit that there's some evidence," returned matt, "but you don't know carl as well as i do. it isn't possible that he would steal a nickel from any one. if there was ten times as much evidence against him, no one could make me believe that." "you're allowing your friendship to run away with your better judgment. what am i to do? just drop this business, right here?" "of course not. all i want you to do is to leave carl alone and let the motor boys find the thief." "i want that money," said burton, with a black frown, "and i'm satisfied this dutchman knows where it is." "and i'm satisfied he doesn't know a thing about it," said matt warmly. "how did that bag get into his pocket?" "if you come to that, why isn't there some of the stolen money in the bag? do you think for a minute, burton, that carl would be clever enough to plan such a robbery, and then be foolish enough to carry around with him the bare evidence of it? you don't give him credit for having much sense. why should he keep the bag, and then come in here with it in his pocket?" burton remained silent. "furthermore," proceeded matt, "if carl is one of the thieves, or the only thief, why did he come in here at all? why didn't he make a run of it as soon as he got his hands on the money?" "every crook makes a mistake, now and then," muttered burton. "if they didn't, the law would have a hard time running them down." "i'll tell you what i'll do," said matt. "leave carl alone. if i can't prove his innocence to your satisfaction, i'll agree to stay four weeks with your show for nothing. you'll be making more than two thousand dollars, and you've only lost eighteen hundred by this robbery." burton's feelings underwent a change on the instant. "oh, well, if you put it that way," he said, "i'm willing to let the dutchman off. i only want to do the right thing, anyhow." "you vas a skinner," averred carl contemptuously. "i knowed dot from der fairst time vat ve met." "sing small, that's your cue," retorted burton. "remember," and he whirled on motor matt, "if you don't prove the dutchman's innocence, you're to work for me for four weeks without pay. i'm willing to let it rest in that way." with that burton took himself off. his show was doing well and he was not pressed for funds. as for the rest of it, he had shifted everything connected with the robbery to the shoulders of motor matt. mcglory was a bit dubious. he had not known carl as long as matt had, and had not the same amount of confidence in him. "matt," remarked the dutch boy with feeling, "you vas der pest friendt vat i efer hat, und you bed my life you don'd vas making some misdakes ven you pelieve dot i ditn't shdeal der money. i don'd know nodding aboudt der pag, nor how it got in my bocket. dot's der trut'." "i know that without your telling me, pard," said matt. "the thing for us to do now is to find out who the real thieves are." "there must have been only one," said mcglory. "there must have been two, joe." "how do you figure it?" "why, because both carl and carter were knocked down at the same time. neither saw what had happened to the other. two men must have done that." "vat a headt it iss!" murmured carl. "modor matt vould make a fine tedectif, i tell you dose." "you've got a bean on the right number, pard, and no mistake," exulted mcglory. "did you see any one near the wagons when you led the ticket man in between them?" asked matt, turning to look at the place where he had last seen the ticket man standing. but carter had left. presumably, he had followed after burton. "i don'd see nopody aroundt der vagons," answered carl. "der t'ieves vas hiding, dot's a skinch. day vas hid avay mit demselufs in blaces vere dey couldt handt carter und me a gouple oof goot vones. ouch again!" and carl rubbed a gentle hand over the red cotton handkerchief. "take us to the place where you and carter were knocked down, carl," said matt. "we'll look the ground over and see if we can find anything." the dutch boy conducted his two friends toward the rear of the circus tent. here there were two big, high-sided canvas wagons drawn up in a position that was somewhat isolated so far as the tents of the show were concerned. the wagons had been left in the form of a "v," and carl walked through the wide opening. "dis iss der vay vat ve come in," said he, "i in der lead oof der dicket man. ven i ged py der front veels oof der vagon, i turn around, und den--_biff_, down i go like some brick puildings had drowed demselufs on dop oof me. shiminy grickeds, vat a knock! i don'd know vere carter vas shtanding, pecause i ditn't see him, i vas hit so kevick." matt surveyed the ground. the turf had retained no marks of the violent work. he examined the rear tires of the wagons. the rims, for the whole of their circumference that was off the ground, were covered with a coating of dried mud; and this caking of mud was not broken at any place. "carter must have stood here, in this position," observed matt, placing himself between the two rear wheels. "he says that he fell against one of the wheels and cut his cheek on the tire. i can't find any trace of the spot where carter came into such rough contact with either of the tires." "don't you think he was telling the truth, pard?" asked mcglory in some excitement. "is it possible he was using the double tongue, just to----" "easy, there," interrupted matt. "carter was dazed when he fell, and could hardly have known whether he struck against the tire or against something else. he may have dropped on a stone----" "no stones here," objected mcglory, with a quiet look over the surface of the ground. "well, then it was something else that caused the injury to his cheek. he----" "here's something," and mcglory made a dive for the ground and lifted himself erect with an object in his hand. "i reckon it don't amount to anything, though." "let's see it," said matt. mcglory handed the object to the young motorist. it was a peg, perhaps half an inch thick by three inches long, and had a knob at one end as big as a marble. "great spark-plugs!" exclaimed the king of the motor boys, staring from the peg to mcglory and carl. "what's to pay?" queried mcglory. "you act as though we'd found something worth while." "we have," declared matt, "and everything seems to be helping us on toward a streak of luck in this robbery matter." "how vas dot?" queried carl. "this peg belongs to the hindoo," said matt. "it's the contrivance he used for fastening down the lid of that flat basket in which he carries the cobra." mcglory went into the air with a jubilant whoop. "he's the thief!" he cried. "i've had a feelin' all along that he was a tinhorn. this proves it! sufferin' blackguards, matt, but you've got a head!" "vere iss der shnake?" came from carl, as he looked around in visible trepidation. "oof der pasket iss oben, den der copra is loose on der grounds. vat a carelessness!" "and remember," said matt, addressing the cowboy, "that i had set ping to watch the hindoo before the robbery took place. if dhondaram is the robber, then ping was on his trail at the time and must know something about it." "speak to me about that!" exulted the cowboy. "our friend the hindoo has been putting in some good licks since he joined the big consolidated! he hasn't let any grass grow under his feet." motor matt whirled around and walked out from between the wagons. "let's find ping," he called back, "and get a report from him. that ought to settle everything." mcglory and carl, feeling that something important was about to be accomplished, hurried after matt as he moved off across the show grounds. chapter ix. a waiting game. the chinese boy was not in evidence anywhere about the camp. after a search in all directions, matt, mcglory, and carl, reasoning that ping's trail had led him to other places outside the show grounds, returned to the calliope tent. there, to their overwhelming surprise, they came upon dhondaram, sitting nonchalantly on his square of scarlet cloth and smoking a cigarette. the hindoo's face lighted up genially at sight of the three boys. "_salaam_, sahibs!" said he in a friendly tone. "i come here to rest. it is permitted? i thought so. rajah takes work to manage--_jee_, yes, much work. it tires me. do you use the little smokes? take one, sahibs." dhondaram offered his little red box of rolled paper poison, only to have his courtesy declined. matt was looking around. he was hoping to see the basket, but it was not in sight. mcglory had something at the end of his tongue, and carl was all agog with a desire to talk, but matt silenced each of them with a look. "where's the cobra, dhondaram?" asked matt. "i'd like to see you juggle with the snake again." the hindoo smiled and showed his white teeth. "_maskee!_" he exclaimed, "that is my sorrow. my little snake is gone. now that i am taking care of elephants, sahib, i have not the time to charm serpents. i sold the cobra an hour ago." "sufferin' tarantulas!" murmured mcglory. "what fool would want to buy a thing like that?" "the cobra, sahib," said the hindoo, turning to the cowboy, "is a curiosity. many _feringhis_ like curiosities and pay for them. 'tis well. i like the elephants better than the serpents." "what did you do with the snake basket?" asked matt. "that must be sold with the cobra, sahib. what would the new owner do with the serpent unless he had the place to keep him? _dekke!_ he take the snake, also he take the basket. i throw in the basket, as you call--give it as boot." with eyes narrowly watching dhondaram's face, matt produced the peg and tossed it on the red cloth. "what did the new owner do," the king of the motor boys inquired, "without the peg to keep the basket shut?" not a tremor crossed the hindoo's face. "ah, ha!" said he. "i lose the peg and motor matt sahib find it. but it is nothing. there are many things that can be used as pegs--a splinter, a bit of wood, almost anything. where you pick it up, sahib?" "oh, out on the grounds," answered matt indefinitely. "sahib recognize the peg when he find him? you have much observation, mattrao sahib." the suffix "rao" is added to a name as a sign of great respect. probably dhondaram felt that he was paying matt a high compliment, although, naturally, matt knew nothing about that. dhondaram got up slowly and lifted the red cloth from the ground. "i will now go," said he, "and find how my bad rajah is conducting himself. he must be watched carefully, and spoken to." with a courteous nod the hindoo left the tent. as soon as he was gone matt rolled over and lifted one side of the canvas wall. the hindoo, with never a look behind, walked in his easy way around the calliope "lean-to" and into the "animal top," by the front entrance. "nerve!" sputtered mcglory, "he's got a square mile of it. never turned a hair. even the sight of that peg didn't phase him." matt was still peering from under the canvas. "there's something here i can't understand," said he, a few moments later, and he dropped the canvas and faced his friends. "vat it iss?" asked carl. "why, we set ping to watching dhondaram, and by all the rules of the game the chinaman ought to be on the fellow's track. but he isn't, so far as i can see. what's become of ping, mcglory?" "dhondaram has shaken him," hazarded the cowboy. "the chink wasn't sharp enough for the turban boy." "that may be," mused matt, "although i doubt it. ping is about as smart a chinaman as you'll find in a month's travel. it's mysterious." "then again," went on mcglory, "maybe ping is on dhondaram's trail and you don't know it. he's either too wise for us, or else not wise enough for the hindoo. pick out whichever conclusion you want." but matt shook his head, puzzled. "he don'd vas mooch goot, dot chink feller," spoke up carl gloomily. "vone oof dose days you will findt him oudt." "don't try any slams on ping," said mcglory. "he's the clear quill, he is, even though he's a rat-eater and a heathen. ping has turned some pretty fine tricks for matt and me, and like as not he's busy coming across with another. you've got too much of a grouch at the slant-eyed brother, carl." "i say vat i t'ink, und dot's all," replied carl. "i can lick him mit vone handt tied aroundt my pack." "cut it out, carl," said matt. "ping's a good fellow, and has always stood by me. i don't want any hostile feelings between two of my pards." "py shinks," cried carl, "he iss more hosdyle at me as i am at him. aber he's a shink, und he hides vat he t'inks pedder as i can do. somedime you findt it oudt, den you know." "go and look for ping, carl," said matt. "find him, if you can, and bring him where i can talk with him. it's more than likely that your innocence of that hold-up will have to be proven by the chinaman, so it will stand you in hand to be friendly with him." "honest," fumed carl, getting up, "i hat radder go to chail mit meinseluf as to led der shink prove dot i ditn't took der money." "well, you go and find him. you and ping must be friends if you're both to stay with me." carl was far from being in love with the task assigned to him, but nevertheless he went off to do what he could toward performing it. "those two boys don't mix worth a cent," remarked matt, when carl had left. "they're like oil and water." "they mix too much," grinned mcglory. "when they got acquainted with each other it was a 'knock-down' in more than one sense of the word. they've been hungry to mix it up with each other ever since." matt had no answer for this. he was well acquainted with the dispositions of both boys. "when i first got acquainted with carl," said matt reminiscently, "he was having trouble with a chinese laundryman. that was 'way off in arizona." for a time there was silence between the friends, broken at last by the cowboy. "what can we do now, pard?" "it's a waiting game for us, and if ping doesn't know something that will help carl out of the hole he is in, we'll have to hunt for some other clues." "dhondaram is a smooth article, and no mistake. if he really stole the money, who helped him? and why is he staying with the show?" "i don't know, pard," returned matt. "we'll have to let the thing work itself out, somehow." "you don't intend presenting burton with our wages for a month, do you?" "that's the very last thing i'd ever do!" declared matt. "then, if that's the case, we can't keep up this waiting game too long." the afternoon performance was over, and the crowd of people began filing out of the tents. only the "grand concert" remained, and that would soon be at an end, and the time would arrive for another ascension with the aëroplane. "i wish," remarked matt thoughtfully, "that we could work out this robbery business before we leave jackson. some town crook may be mixed up in it with dhondaram, and when the show leaves the place we may all be leaving the money behind." "burton isn't worrying," said mcglory. "he's positive carl is guilty, and that you can't prove anything else. in other words, boss burton is planning to have us work four weeks for nothing." "he'll be disappointed," said matt. "let's go and get supper, joe. it won't be long before the evening crowd begins to arrive, and i want to put the _comet_ in shape." while they were eating at the long table in the mess tent carl came in. "i don'd find nodding," said he, dropping wearily into a chair. "der shink is harter to find as a hayshtack mit some neetles in it. meppy he iss over in der town, or else gone oop in a palloon, or else"--and here carl leaned closer to matt and spoke in a whisper--"meppy he took der money himseluf und has gone pack py shina." "that will do, carl," said matt sternly. "ping is as honest as you are." "anyhow," spoke up mcglory sarcastically, "he didn't ask carter to go between the wagons, and we didn't find a bag in his pocket." "dot's righdt, rup id in," glowered carl. "oof i could ged dot money from inchia i vould fly der coop und i vouldn't come pack any more. all der tedectif vat iss in me say der shink is gone mit der show money. i say vat i t'ink." "well," said matt, "don't say it to anybody else." when he and mcglory left the mess tent and moved off toward the aëroplane, carl was still eating. matt was counting upon having as successful a flight that afternoon as he had made in the morning. the repaired aëroplane was in better trim for flying than it had been when new, and there was not even the small breeze which had accompanied the first flight of the day. but, if matt could have known it, he was destined to meet with one of the most desperate and hair-raising exploits of his aëroplane career during that second flight from the jackson show grounds. chapter x. a trick at the start. the guard who had been in charge of the aëroplane since the parade had returned to the show grounds was relieved by matt and mcglory. as soon as he had left, matt, in accordance with his usual custom, made a careful examination of the machine. he knew very well what might happen if he found, after being launched into the air, that some of the many parts of the aëroplane were loose, or the machinery not working properly. long ropes, stretched on each side of the road on which the flying machine got its start, served to keep the people back and to give matt and his corps of assistants plenty of room. so far as the young motorist could see--and his investigation was always thorough--the aëroplane was in as serviceable a condition as it had been for the morning's flight. it was a most ungainly looking machine when resting on the ground, but was transformed into a thing of grace the moment it spurned the earth and mounted skyward. "she looks as fit as a fiddle," remarked mcglory, his face shining with pride. "she'll do her work easy as falling off a log," said matt. "the repairs we made on her, in lafayette, seem to have been an improvement." "we don't want to make any more improvements of that sort," remarked mcglory, thinking of the accident which had made the repairs necessary. "ah," cried matt, "here comes le bon. and look who's with him," he added in a lower tone. the cowboy turned his head and swept his gaze over the throng that pressed the guard rope to the north of the road. le bon, in his trapeze costume, was crawling through the press, and close behind him came dhondaram. mcglory scowled. "what's the hindoo coming for?" he muttered. "i'm getting so i hate the looks of that fellow." le bon came close, walking with the springy tread of the trained athlete. "it looks as though we were going to have as nice a time aloft as we had this morning, matt," he observed, coming to a halt and taking a look at the sky. "what's the hindoo trailing you for?" queried mcglory. "he wanted to come along and see the flight at close quarters. he's a pretty good fellow, mcglory, and i told him to push along with me. what's the harm?" "no harm at all," interposed matt hastily. mcglory spun around on his heel and would not remain near to talk with dhondaram. the hindoo, as he halted in front of matt, was smiling in his most ingratiating manner. "i have come to look, sahib," said he, "at your most wonderful performance. it is read of everywhere, and in chicago most of all. it will be a pleasure. it is permitted?" "you can stay here," answered matt, "providing you keep out of the way." "i will see to that, mattrao sahib," and the hindoo walked around the aëroplane, giving it his respectful attention. the wonder was growing upon matt as to the whereabouts of ping. the chinese boy was always on hand when the flights were made, for the _comet_ was the apple of his eye and he took it as a personal responsibility to make sure that the "get-away" was always safely accomplished. he did not appear to be trailing the hindoo. if he had been, why was he not somewhere in the crowds that were pressing against the guard ropes. "watch the brown tinhorn, le bon," muttered mcglory, in the kinker's ear, "and see that he don't tinker with anything." "why," exclaimed le bon, "he wouldn't do anything like that!" "he might," was the sharp response. "i haven't any faith in these fellows who wear a twisted tablecloth for a hat. if anything should go wrong, up in the air, it'll spell your finish as well as my pard's. i'm going to have a word with matt." the band had come from the mess tent. instruments in hand, the members had climbed into the band wagon, which was hauled up near the point from which the _comet_ would start, and a rattling melody was going up from the horns, the drums, and the cymbals. the aëroplane flight was motor matt's own particular part of the show. it was an instructive part, too, for aside from the thrill of seeing a human being piloting a big mechanical bird through the air the observers were given the last word in aërial navigation. "what's on your mind, pard?" asked mcglory, halting at matt's side. "you're as thoughtful as a cold game gent who's looking into the open end of a gun." "have you seen anything of ping, joe?" said matt. "chink 'signs' haven't been at all plentiful since our squinch-eyed brother tried to run out the hindoo's trail." "i'd like to know where the boy is, that's all." "don't fret about him. i'd like to have a picture of ping in a corner he couldn't get out of. you take it from me, johnny hardluck hasn't got such a corner in his whole bag of tricks." at that moment burton rode up to the aëroplane on his favorite saddler. "innocent or guilty?" he asked, leaning down from his saddle and accompanying the words with a significant wink. "innocent, of course," answered the king of the motor boys. "can you prove it to me?" "not yet." "and you never will. better let me have the dutchman locked up. that'll scare him so he'll tell all he knows, and maybe it isn't yet too late to get the money back." "keep hands off my dutch pard, burton," said matt. "we've made an agreement about that." "exactly." boss burton straightened. "i guess you'd better get a-going, matt," he added. "the whole town seems to be outside the guard ropes, and i don't think we could get any more spectators if we waited all night." burton backed his horse away from the starting line and lifted one hand. instantly a breathless silence fell over the vast throng, while every individual member of it craned his or her neck to get a better view of what was going on. the aëroplane, as has already been stated, had to make a running start on bicycle wheels in order to develop the speed necessary for the wings to take hold of the air and lift the machine. the wheels were low, and le bon had to sit on the lower plane beside matt and hold the trapeze on his lap until the _comet_ was high enough for him to drop from the footboard. the _comet's_ motor was equipped with a magneto, but, at the beginning and while the machine was on the ground, the spark was secured with a make-and-break circuit. when the motor was properly going the magneto took hold and an automatic switch brought it into commission. mcglory superintended the ground work during the start. some half a dozen men, under his direction, ranged behind the planes, started the machine, and ran with it. the power in the bicycle wheels soon carried the aëroplane away from them. at twenty-eight miles an hour the great wings felt the tug of the air, the wheels lifted from solid ground, and a sharp pull at a lever started the big propeller. matt had made so many ascensions that he handled every part of his work with automatic precision, and the aëroplane, amid the wild cheers of the crowd, darted skyward. mcglory, standing perhaps a distance of fifty feet back from the point where the machine left the earth, saw a bag hanging to the under plane, close to an opening that led up through the plane to the motor and the driver's seat. what was the bag? the cowboy asked himself, and how did it chance to be swinging there? mcglory had only a few moments to make his observations, for the _comet_ was climbing swiftly upward and the bag was growing rapidly smaller to the eye. he ran forward, stumbling and looking, and burton, evidently with his eyes on the same object, galloped past him with glance upturned. suddenly a black object appeared over the top of the bag, grew longer, wriggled queerly, and could be seen disappearing into the space between the two planes. the cowboy halted his stumbling feet and reeled, his brain on fire and his breath coming quick and hard. that black, wriggling thing must have been the cobra! the cobra, which the hindoo had said he had sold to some one on the show grounds! mcglory's mind was a hopeless chaos of fears, doubts, and wild speculations. while he stood there, burton, a wild look on his face, came galloping back. "that bag!" he gasped, drawing rein with a quick, nervous hand at the cowboy's side. "did you see it, mcglory?" "yes," answered the other. "it was one of the bags that had stolen money in it!" declared burton; "i saw the black lettering on the side! is it the one you got from the dutchman?" mcglory shook his head, still dazed. "i've got that--in my grip--at the calliope tent," he managed to gasp. "where did that one come from?" then mcglory came to his senses. "i don't care a whoop about the bag, or where it came from," he shouted. "did you see that snake come out of it and crawl up onto the lower plane? did you see that?" "yes, but----" "don't talk to me! find that hindoo--he was here before the start and he put that bag there. find him!" yelled mcglory. then, at the top of his lungs, the cowboy shouted frantically to matt, in the hope of letting him know his danger and putting him on his guard. but it was a fruitless effort. the tremendous cheering drowned mcglory's voice, and it was impossible for him to make his voice heard. chapter xi. in the air with a cobra. both motor matt and le bon were delighted with the start of the aëroplane. "she gets better and better," averred le bon. "i guess i'll take to flying myself." while in the air matt's every faculty of mind and quickness of body were called into action. he had to _feel_ the motion of the air on the huge wings, as communicated to the framework under him, and shift the wing extensions back and forth to meet the varying resistance of air pressure and make it coincide with the centre of gravity. to withdraw his attention for an instant from the work of managing the machine might result in a disaster that would bring destruction to himself and le bon. but he had schooled himself to talk while keeping busy with his work. "better not try it, archie," matt answered. "it's too much of a strain on a fellow's nerves. are you ready to drop with the trapeze?" "whenever you are," was the response. there was always a jolt when le bon's weight reached the ends of the trapeze ropes, and extra care was required in taking care of the _comet_. matt brought the air craft around in a sweeping circle and headed the other way to cover the north and south extent of the grounds. he, likewise, the moment the turn was made, turned the aëroplane upward. "what's the matter with mcglory?" asked le bon, peering down. "he's looking up and waving his arms." "he wouldn't do that," said matt, "unless something is wrong. when you get on the trapeze, archie, look over the under part of the machine and see if you can find anything out of whack. i can't imagine what's gone crosswise, for the aëroplane never behaved better." reaching the top of the airy slope, some two hundred feet above ground, matt pointed the machine earthward. "now's your time, archie," he said to le bon. the athlete stood erect, firmly clutching the trapeze bar, and dived out into space. swiftly matt brought the craft to an even keel, just as the whole fabric fluttered under the jolt. in a twinkling the _comet_ righted herself, and le bon was left swinging on his frail bar, a hundred and fifty feet above the show grounds. his position under the machine was such that matt could not see him. "all right, archie?" shouted matt, keeping his eyes ahead and manipulating his levers incessantly. "right as a trivet," came up from below. "mcglory is still throwing himself around down there." "do you see anything wrong with the machine?" "not a thing. what's that bag hanging under the wing for?" "is there a bag there?" "yes, a canvas bag. there are letters on it. wait, and i'll read them." there followed a silence during which, supposedly, le bon was spelling out the letters. "'burton's big consolidated shows'," went on le bon. "that's what's printed on the bag, matt." "great spark-plugs!" exclaimed matt. "anything in the bag, archie?" "it's as limp as a rag and looks to be empty. how did it get there?" "give it up. if it's empty, i don't see how it can do any harm. i don't like the thoughts of the thing, though, and we're not going to remain up as long as usual. get busy with your work." renewed cheering greeted the daring feats performed on the trapeze by le bon. in the midst of it the motor missed fire and died altogether. the slowing rotations of the propeller caused the _comet_ to glide earthward. a terrified yell broke from le bon. "what's the matter, up there?" "keep your nerve," flung back the king of the motor boys; "something's wrong with the motor--but we'll be all right." yes, matt knew that the aëroplane would glide earthward and land him and le bon without injury; but, if it could not be guided, it was as likely to land on the heads of that dense crowd as anywhere. that would mean serious, if not fatal, injury to many men--perhaps to women and children. motor matt's face went white, and his heart pounded in his throat. nevertheless he kept a cool head and a steady hand. he figured out the exact point where they would come down. it was in the very thickest part of the crowd, and the people were trying frantically to get out of the way. then, just as it seemed as though nothing could prevent a terrible accident, the motor again took up its cycle and the slowly whirling propeller increased its speed. a long breath of relief escaped matt's tense lips as he drove the aëroplane upward and the direction of the roped-off road. "what ails the blooming motor?" came from le bon in a distraught voice. "we came within one of killing a lot of people. i'm all in a sweat." "i don't know what's the matter with the motor," answered matt, "but i'm going to find out just as soon as i turn to go back on the course." "better descend. this is more than i can stand." "we can't descend until we reach the right place." matt made a wide turn, the engine working perfectly. "hold on tight, below there," he called. "i've got to take my attention from running the motor for a moment, and if we give a wild pitch or two don't be afraid. i'll be able to keep the machine right side up." "i'm pretty near all in," came from le bon in a subdued voice, "but it would take an axe to chop me off this trapeze." matt gave a quick look behind him. what he saw nearly froze him with horror. a cobra--undoubtedly the very snake he had seen in the calliope tent--was twined about two of the electric wires. the wires, as originally strung, were an inch and a half apart, and insulated. the coils of the six-foot cobra encircled both. as the coils contracted the wires were forced together, and two points of the copper, where the insulating material was worn off, were brought in contact. thus a short circuit was formed and a bad leak made for the electricity. at the moment matt looked the coils of the cobra had loosened, causing the tightly strung wires to spring a little apart, thus restoring the spark to the cylinders. but at any moment the coils might tighten again and cause another short circuit. as though to crown the terrors of the moment, the cobra's head was lifted from the wires by a third of the anterior length of its body--a favorite position assumed by the cobra in gliding along the earth--and the diamond-like eyes were fastened upon matt with deadly animosity. motor matt's one thought was this: if he were bitten by the snake before he had manipulated a safe landing, the swift working of the virus in his veins would keep him from doing his duty in preventing injury to the spectators below. with white face and gleaming eyes, he turned from the cobra and manoeuvred to place the aëroplane lengthwise of the roped-off space on the ground. before he could place the machine in proper position the motor again commenced to miss fire, and then died all over again. a groan was wrenched from matt's lips as the machine fluttered downward toward the massed human heads underneath. the groan was echoed by le bon. "we're dropping toward them again!" yelled the man below. matt turned in his seat, letting the aëroplane take care of itself. throwing himself back, he caught at the hooded brown head with his hand. there was a dart, quick as lightning, and matt's wrist was touched as though by a hot coal. with a loud cry he flung his arm forward, dragging the full length of the cobra from the wires. for the fraction of an instant the snake hung in midair, then yielded to the impetus of the arm to which it held and coiled sinuously outward and downward into space. the motor had again resumed its work, but the _comet_ hung at a frightful angle and was dropping like so much lead, the atmosphere striking the planes almost on their edges. matt was calm, now, and cool as ever. he went to work at the levers, righted the machine within fifteen feet of the bobbing heads, and sent it upward into the air. he was alone, for le bon, when so close to the ground, had dropped. in fact, owing to the length of the trapeze ropes, le bon's feet had almost swept the heads of the terrified spectators. steadily upward climbed the machine. every moment was precious to the king of the motor boys, for if he was to receive medical aid to counteract the bite of the reptile, it could not be long deferred. but what was the use of indulging in hope? he had been bitten by the cobra, and the lecturer in the museum had declared that a person so injured could not hope. vaguely matt wondered why the poison in his veins had not already rushed to his brain and paralyzed him into inaction. he was feeling as strong as ever, and as able to effect a safe landing without danger to the people on the show grounds. that was the thing he had set out to accomplish, and it was the thing he would do. freed of le bon's weight, the _comet_ was more manageable. with steady hand and cool, unshaken judgment, he laid the _comet_ parallel with the road, glided downward with a rush, shut off the power, and touched the hard ground squarely between the guard ropes. the jar of the landing was hardly perceptible, and matt stepped out of the car, to be grabbed by mcglory and to see burton, dismounted and anxious, at his side. "the cobra----" began matt. "killed," struck in burton. "did it bite any one in the crowd?" "no; every one was out of the way, and the fall itself nearly did the business for the reptile." "then get a doctor for me," said matt, showing a trickle of blood on his wrist. "that's the cobra's mark." chapter xii. a scientific fact. for an instant, following motor matt's tragic announcement, mcglory and burton were stricken dumb with horror. the cowboy was first to recover his wits, and he leaped to the back of burton's horse. "doctor!" he shouted, galloping madly along the road between the ropes that separated the crowd; "we want a doctor! where's a doctor?" in a crowd like that it was natural that there should be many doctors, and no less than three forced themselves through the throng, dived under the ropes, and hurried to motor matt. among these three physicians was doctor horton, an old man of no particular school, but widely read and eminent in his profession. "he'll die," said one of the medical men. "if that snake was a genuine cobra, and if its fangs were not removed, motor matt might as well make his will--and be quick about it." "my opinion exactly," said the other physician. "bosh!" answered doctor horton derisively. the other two turned on him. "what do you mean, horton?" they demanded. "just what i say," was the response. "this brave lad, who endangered his own life to save innocent spectators, is as sound as a dollar this minute." "then the snake was not a cobra," averred one of the others. "it _was_ a cobra," snapped doctor horton; "i saw it." "then its fangs had been pulled." "they had not been pulled--i saw them, too." "it is not possible, in that case, that the young man was bitten." "not bitten?" cried doctor horton ironically, lifting matt's wrist, which he was holding. "certainly he was bitten, and by one of the most poisonous snakes of which we have any knowledge. there's the mark, gentlemen, and it's as plain as the nose on your face. we were looking up at him, weren't we, when he was fighting the cobra and fighting, at the same time, to keep the flying machine from dropping into the crowd? and didn't we see him fling out his arm with the snake hanging to his wrist? the force in the throw of the arm--and there's some strength there, gentlemen, believe me," interjected the doctor, patting the biceps--"flung the reptile off. it fell, and so close to me that i had the pleasure of putting my heel on its head. do you suppose for a minute that the cobra could hang to motor matt's arm without biting? i am surprised at you." "what's the answer?" inquired one of the other two. "the venom of the cobra," proceeded doctor horton, "acts swiftly on the human system. yet we see here none of the symptoms attending such poisoning. by now, you understand, they should be well advanced. you ask me the reason our brave young friend is in a normal condition? a scientific fact has come to his rescue. it is well known," and the doctor accented the "well" and gave his medical confrères a humorous glance, "that the cobra can bite, but cannot release its poison _unless the fangs come together in the wound_. in this case, the fangs did not meet, consequently the bite was as harmless as that of the ordinary garter snake." dr. horton slipped his fingers along matt's wrist and gripped his hand. "you are to be congratulated; my lad," he went on. "it was your quickness in seizing the snake, i infer, and in hurling it from the aëroplane, that prevented it from laying firm hold of you. tell us what happened. we have learned a little from the acrobat who was on the trapeze, and who dropped off when near the ground, but we were all too much excited, at the time, to pay much attention to him. besides, he was under the aëroplane, and in no position to know just what went on in your vicinity. give us the facts." matt, relieved beyond expression, told of the cause of the short circuit, and of his attempts to get the machine in the right position for alighting; and finished with a terse account of the way he had grabbed the cobra and flung it from him. the exciting chronicle was set forth in few words and with the utmost diffidence. the recital, however, struck an undernote of courage and self-sacrifice in the line of duty that caught doctor horton's admiration. "once more," said the physician, taking matt's hand. "what you accomplished, my lad, was nobly done. how many could have kept their wits in such a situation? not many--hardly one out of a thousand. you're the manager of this show, are you?" he added, turning to burton. "i am, yes, sir," replied boss burton. "then you owe motor matt a lot. a fearful accident has been averted, and you might have been swamped with damage suits." the crowd surged around the _comet_, and stout canvasmen had to be summoned to force the people back. burton, mounted on his saddle horse, saw a chance to say a few words. "good people," he shouted, "every act down on my bills is faithfully given exactly as represented. i tolerate no misstatements in any of my paper. the gallant young motorist, who has exhibited his aëroplane to you this afternoon in an act more thrilling than even the most imaginative showman could advertise, is but one of many artists of world-wide reputation whom i have secured, at fabulous expense, to amuse you behind yonder tented walls. this is the only show now on the road to give, absolutely free, such a grand outdoor flying machine exhibition. other acts, equally thrilling and instructive, will soon be performed in the two large rings and on the elevated stage under the main canvas. the doors are now open." with that boss burton, having secured probably the greatest advertisement his show had ever received, rode off in the direction of the tents. while the crowd followed, and matt and mcglory found themselves, for the first time, able to have a little heart-to-heart talk, they drew off to one side and began making the most of their opportunity. "say, pard," said the cowboy glumly, "i'm about ready to quit this aëroplane business." "why?" asked matt. "there's not money enough in the country to pay me for going through what i did when i saw you swinging aloft with the cobra." "you saw it?" queried matt. "that's what i did, and i yelled and tried to let you know about it, but the crowd was making so much noise you couldn't hear." dusk was beginning to fall, and the gasoline torches about the show grounds leaped out like dazzling fireflies. mcglory stared at them thoughtfully for a space, then passed a handkerchief across his damp forehead. "it don't pay," he muttered. "you take all the risk, matt, and ping and i just slop around and kick you off when you make your jump skyward. i'd rather, enough sight, have been up in the machine with you than standing down here on the ground, watching and worrying." matt did not dismiss his cowboy pard's words with the careless laugh he usually had for such sage remarks. "it's all nonsense, of course," said he, "your talking about me taking all the risk and doing all the work. i fly the machine because i'm the only one who can do it, but you help me in other ways that are just as important. i'm in the air for perhaps thirty minutes each day, while you're on the ground, old pard, and watching things during every hour of the twenty-four." "watching things!" exploded mcglory. "speak to me about that! how well do i watch things? did i see the hindoo when he hitched that bag with the snake to the aëroplane? it was my business to get onto that, and i didn't know until you had left the road and were too far up to hear me. that's what i'm kicking about. i fell down--and i'm to blame for the whole bloomin' mishap." "you're not," said matt sharply, "and i won't have you say so. it's useless to harp on such things, anyhow, joe, so let's discuss something of more importance." "the way you fooled the cobra? why, that's----" "not that, either. the bag tied to the aëroplane has the name of the show lettered on it, so----" "burton and i both discovered that," interrupted mcglory. "carter had two bags containing the show money. we already had one, and that bag's the other. wait, and i'll get it." mcglory dived under the lower wing of the machine and groped about until he found the bag. "there was nothing in it but the snake," said he, as he rejoined matt. "it was a bagful of trouble, all right, at that. fine two-tongue performance the hindoo gave when he said he had sold the snake. sufferin' ananias! i suspected him of putting the bag there the minute i saw the cobra crawling up onto the lower wing, behind you and le bon." "did you hunt for the fellow?" asked matt. "_did_ we! why, burton had every man that could be spared from the show chasing all over the grounds. what's more, he sent word to the police, and they're on the hunt. here's what that hindoo tinhorn has done: he tried to make rajah wreck the aëroplane, and he tried his best to get you and the cobra mixed up while in the air. why? what's his reason for actin' like that?" "give it up, joe. not only has dhondaram done all that, but he has lifted burton's ticket-wagon money. there's something back of it all, and i'd give a farm to know just what it is. if i----" mcglory was interrupted by a cracked voice, down the road, lifted in what purported to be song: "hi le, hi lo, hi le, hi lo, bei uns gets immer je länger je schlimmer, hi le, hi lo, hi le, hi lo, bei uns gets immer ja so!" "carl!" exclaimed matt. "i could tell that voice of his among a thousand." "but what the nation is he coming with?" cried mcglory, peering along the road into the gloom. "looks like he had a rig of some kind." the "rig," when it drew closer, proved to be one of the donkey carts driven by the clowns in the parade. the dutch boy was walking ahead and leading the donkey. "hooray for der greadt tedectif!" whooped carl, bringing the donkey outfit to a halt. "modor matt, i haf dit vat you say." "what have you done, carl?" returned matt curiously. "come aroundt by der cart und take a look!" thereupon carl caught matt's arm and led him to the cart. the cart was small and mounted on low wheels, and matt and mcglory had no difficulty in looking down into it. ping, his hands and feet tied together, was roped to the seat. suddenly he set up a wail. "my velly bad china boy!" he whimpered, "velly bad china boy. motol matt, you no like ping ally mo'." "dot's vat i dit," observed carl, puffing out his chest, folding his arms, and striking an attitude. "i ketch der shink, like vat you say, und he shpeak oudt himseluf dot he don'd vas any goot. vat i tell you ven ve vas at subber, hey? i vas der greadest tedectif vat efer habbened, i bed you." chapter xiii. ping on the wrong track. to say that motor matt and joe mcglory were surprised at the odd situation confronting them would paint their feelings in too faint a color. "how did this happen?" demanded matt. "me," said carl, "i made it habben. venefer i go afder some fellers i ged him. yah, so!" "what's ping tied up for?" "to make sure mit meinseluf dot he vould come." "where did you find him?" "in vone oof dose ganvas wagons bedween vich der money vas took. he vas ashleep. i ged me some ropes und vile he shleep, py shiminy, i ged der rope on his hants. den i porrow der mu-el und der leedle vagon. i see der flying mashine in der air, und i hear der people yell like plazes, aber i don'd haf time for nodding but der shink. you say to pring him, und i dit. dere he vas. ven modor matt tell carl pretzel to do somet'ing, id vas as goot as dit." another wail came from ping, but it was not accompanied by any words that could be understood. "take the ropes off him, carl," ordered matt. "you should not have tied him like that." "den for vy he shleep in der ganvas wagon ven you tell him to drail der hintoo?" "ping will explain about that." "my velly bad china boy," gurgled the prisoner. "motol matt no likee ally mo'. givee china boy bounce." carl, with an air of great importance, proceeded to take the cords off ping's hands. the moment the ropes were all removed ping leaped at carl over the side of the cart, grabbed him savagely, and they both went down and rolled over and over in the road. the mixture of pidgin english and dutch dialect that accompanied the scrimmage was appalling. quickly as they could, matt and mcglory separated the boys and held them apart. "i told you somet'ing," yelled carl, "und dot iss der shinks is der vorst peoples vat i know." "dutchy boy no good!" piped ping. "no lettee china boy savee face. woosh!" "here, now," spoke up matt sternly. "tell us all about this, ping. did you follow the hindoo, as i told you?" "allee same," answered the chinese boy. "why did you leave the trail? did you lose it?" "my velly bad china boy," insisted ping, with the usual wail. "you didn't lose the trail?" "no losee, just makee stop." "you quit following the hindoo?" "allee same," sniffed ping. "what was the reason?" "my velly----" "yes, yes, i know all that, but tell me why you quit following dhondaram." "him makee tlacks fo' ticket wagon, makee pidgin with tlicket man, makee go to canvas wagon, makee hide. bymby, 'long come dutchy boy, blingee tlicket man. tlicket man him cally two bag. hindoo makee jump, hittee dutchy boy, knockee down." ping chuckled as though he considered the matter a good joke. "tlicket man and hindoo man takee money bags, empty allee same in hat, takee snake flom basket, puttee snake in one bag, puttee othel bag in dutchy boy's pocket. my savvy. hindoo man and tlicket man stealee money, makee think dutchy boy stealee. my thinkee one piecee fine business. stopee follow tlail. dutchy boy findee heap tlouble. my no ketchee motol matt, for' motol matt makee china boy tellee 'bout dutchy boy. woosh! ping him velly bad china boy. no likee dutchy boy. heap likee him get in tlouble." here was a lot of information tied up in a small and ragged bundle of pidgin. in order to develop all the different parts of it, matt undertook a line of patient cross-examination. when the talk was finished the fact that stood out prominently was this, that ping had allowed his feeling against carl to beguile him into a most reprehensible course of conduct. he saw the thieves at work, and guessed that they were trying to involve carl in the robbery. ping was glad to have carl involved, so he stopped following the hindoo and hid himself away in order that matt might not find him and learn the truth. it was sad but true that the china boy had let his hostility to carl lure him away on the wrong track. "ping," said matt sternly, "you acted like a heathen. carl is a friend of mine, and entitled to your consideration. instead of helping him out of his trouble, you held back in the hope that he would get into deep water. you can't work for me if you act like that." "my makee mistake, velly bad mistake," moaned ping. "no makee ally mo'." "you have been telling yarns about carl, too," went on matt. "you told boss burton that you had found carl going through your clothes and taking----" "py shiminy grismus!" whooped carl. "take your handts avay, mcglory, und led me ged at dot yellow feller. schust vonce, only vonce! he has peen telling aroundt dot i vas a ropper! _ach, du lieber!_ i vas so madt i feel like i bust oop." "hold your bronks, carl," growled mcglory. "you're not going to get away." "allee same, motol matt, my speakee like that," acknowledged ping. "dutchy boy say china boy no good. my no likee." "you told things that were not true," proceeded matt, "and they helped to get carl into trouble." "my savvy." "are you sorry you did it?" "heap solly, you bettee." "py shinks," fussed carl, "i'll make him sorrier as dot, vone oof dose days." "i guess, joe," remarked matt, "that we'll have to cut loose from both carl and ping. what's the use of trying to do anything with them? they act like young hoodlums, and i'm ashamed to own them for pards." "pull the pin on the pair of them, matt," counseled mcglory. "they make us more trouble than they're worth." a howl of protest went up from carl. "for vy you cut loose from me, hey?" he demanded. "i dit vat you say. i pring in der shink." "you don't do what i say, carl," answered matt. "i have tried to get you two boys to bury the hatchet, but you won't. this bickering of yours has resulted in a lot of trouble for all hands, and pretty serious trouble, at that. we can't work together unless we're all on friendly terms." "my makee fliendly terms," said ping eagerly. "givee china boy anothel chance, motol matt. plenty soon my go top-side, you no givee chance." "schust gif me some more shances, too, bard," begged carl. "i don'd vant to haf you cut me adrift like vat you say." "well," returned matt thoughtfully, "i'll give you just one more opportunity. take the mule and wagon, both of you, and return them to the place where carl found them. remember this, though, that you can't travel with mcglory and me unless you show a little more friendship toward each other." carl and ping stepped forward in the gloom. there was a moment's hesitation, and then carl took the mule by the halter and moved off. ping trailed along behind. "don't say a word to any one about what ping discovered," matt called after the boys, and both shouted back their assurances that they would not. "well, tell me about that!" gasped mcglory, his voice between a growl and a chuckle. "ping saw the robbery, and was keeping quiet about it just to let carl get into a hard row of stumps. he's a heathen, and no mistake." "but the point that interests me a lot," said matt, "is the fact that carter himself is mixed up in the robbery! he planned it with this rascally hindoo, who joined the show this morning and has been doing his villainous work all day. carter was trying to get the benefit of the robbery and, at the same time, shirk the responsibility and stay with the show." "how's that for a double deal?" muttered mcglory, amazed at the audacity of the ticket seller as matt put the case in cold words. "but then," he added, "ping may not be telling the truth." "i've lost a good deal of confidence in ping," returned matt, "but i believe he's giving the matter to us straight. one of the money bags, as ping says, was put in carl's pocket while he was lying dazed and unconscious from the blow dealt him by dhondaram; and ping also says that the snake was put in the other bag. that has all been proved to be the case." "and carter must have slashed himself on the cheek just to make it look to burton as though he'd had a rough time during the robbery!" "exactly." "all this fails to explain, though, why dhondaram tried to destroy the aëroplane, and then fastened the bag with the snake to the lower wing of the machine." "we're on the right track to discover all that. let's hunt up burton, and then we can all three of us have a talk with andy carter." "that's the talk!" agreed mcglory. "you stay here, pard, and i'll hunt up some one to watch the _comet_ while we're gone. after what's happened to-day, i hate to leave the machine alone for a minute." mcglory was not long in coming with a man to look after the aëroplane, and he and matt left immediately to find boss burton. chapter xiv. facing a traitor. inquiry developed the fact that boss burton was in the ticket wagon with carter, checking over the evening's receipts and making them ready to be carried to the train and safely stowed until the next town on the show's schedule was reached. "we'll catch carter right in the strong wagon," laughed mcglory, as he and matt hurried to the place. the door of the wagon was always kept locked. matt knocked, and the voice of burton demanded to know what was wanted. "it's motor matt," replied the young motorist. "let us in for a few minutes, burton." "i'll come out and talk with you. there's not much room in here." "i'd rather talk in there," said matt. "it's important. mcglory is with me." a bolt was shoved and the door of the wagon pulled open. "what's all the hurry?" asked burton, as the boys crowded in. "you'll know in a few moments," answered matt, closing the door behind him and forcing the bolt into its socket. carter sat at a small table on which a shaded oil lamp was burning. he and burton, it seemed, had finished their work, and there were two canvas bags, lettered like those with which matt was already familiar, near the lamp. the bags were bulging with silver and bills. convenient to carter's hand lay a six-shooter. matt's eye was on the weapon. there was no telling what carter would do when he learned why the boys had paid their call on him and burton. "what's up?" asked burton. "something i've got to talk over with you and carter," replied matt. casually he picked up the revolver. "a s. and w., eh?" he murmured, giving the weapon a brief examination. then, still holding the weapon, he transfixed the ticket man with a steely look. "where's the money that was stolen this afternoon, carter?" he asked. carter started up. "what do you mean?" he flung back, his face flushing and then becoming deadly pale. "that's what i'd like to know," blustered burton. "you act as though you thought andy knew where that money was." "he does know," said matt decisively. "the whole plot has come out. there were two robbers, dhondaram and carter." "i'll not stand for this!" cried carter wrathfully. "burton," and he leveled a quick gaze at the showman, "are you going to let this upstart come in here and insult me?" there was an odd glimmer in the showman's eyes. "be careful, matt," he cautioned. "you're making mighty grave charges." "are they any graver," asked matt, "than the charges you made against carl?" "you haven't the same foundation for them that i had--and have now, for that matter." "you're on a wrong tack, burton," proceeded matt. "the theft of that money was the result of a plot between the hindoo and carter here----" "and i struck myself in the head and cut my face, eh?" sneered carter. "a likely yarn." "whether you were knocked down or not is open to question. but there isn't any doubt about your cutting your face. you say you fell against one of the wagon wheels. there's not a particle of evidence to bear out the story. you wanted to make it appear as though you were robbed. dhondaram hid himself in one of the wagons----" "oh, he did!" returned carter ironically. "he knew your dutch pard was going to ask me to go there, i suppose. if that's the case, why wasn't your dutch pard in the plot, too?" that was the one weak place in matt's theory. according to ping, dhondaram had gone into hiding at the wagons. matt supposed that ping was a little at sea, or that the hindoo had not made for the wagons until he had seen that carl and carter were going there. "dhondaram knew what was going to happen," continued matt, "and he placed himself where he could be of most aid in carrying out the plot. he knocked carl down, and while the lad lay senseless you and dhondaram emptied the money bags into your hats. one of the bags was placed in carl's pocket, and the hindoo took the snake from the basket and placed it in the other bag. you two wanted the basket for the money, and you wanted the empty bag in carl's pocket in order to throw suspicion on him. we all know how the other bag was used. dhondaram said----" carter gave a startled jump, and a muttered oath fell from his lips. "did that infernal scoundrel tell you all this?" rasped out the ticket man. "i'm not saying a word about----" "i know he did!" ground out carter, going all to pieces on the mere suspicion. "he told it all, and you----" with a sharp cry of rage, carter flung himself at motor matt and made a desperate effort to secure the revolver. matt hung to the weapon, and burton caught carter and pushed him down in his chair. "here's a fine how-d'ye-do," grunted burton. "andy, you've worked for me two years, and i never thought you'd turn against me like this!" "it was ben ali roped me into it," was carter's angry reply. "if i had that gun in my hands, i'd show you a trick or two. well," and he threw a look at burton, chagrined but defiant, "what are you going to do about it?" the showman sat down on the edge of the table. "you admit the whole business, eh, andy?" he asked. "dhondaram seems to have given his side of the story, and i might as well give mine," answered the ticket man. matt flashed a look at mcglory. the king of the motor boys had not intended to convey the impression that the hindoo had been captured and had confessed, but carter, out of his guilty conscience, had jumped to that conclusion. "you might as well tell it all, andy, and be perfectly frank with me," said burton. "what had ben ali to do with the affair?" "he figured it out while he was with the show," went on carter. "so----" he broke off suddenly. "but what good is it going to do me to tell you all this?" he asked. "it may do you a lot of good, andy, and it may not do you any. you'll have to take your chances on that." carter was thoughtful for a few moments, and then gave vent to a bitter laugh. "well," said he recklessly, "here goes, neck or nothing. i'll see to it, though, that this dhondaram has his share of the responsibility," and a glitter crept into the ticket man's eyes. "as i say, ben ali figured out how the game could be worked. we were going to try it long before we reached lafayette, but circumstances didn't just shape themselves so we could pull it off. i thought about the deal for some time before i agreed to go into it. the habit you have, burton, of making me tote the money bags to the calliope tent after the ticket office closes for the afternoon show first gave ben ali the idea. but ben ali, as you all know, made things too hot to hold him, in the show, and had to pull out. i was glad of it, for i thought the temptation had been taken away from me entirely, but this morning along comes dhondaram, direct from ben ali----" "from ben ali?" echoed motor matt. "speak to me about that!" grunted mcglory. "surprise to you, eh, motor matt?" observed carter, with an evil grin. "ben ali is a bad man to get down on you, and i guess he's got as big a grouch against motor matt as he could have against any fellow on earth. ben ali, since he left the show, has been framing up a scheme to put the king of the motor boys out of business. in order to carry out his plan, he sent to chicago for dhondaram--and, between you and me, that's where ben ali made a mistake. the two hindoos met near the town of lafayette somewhere, and ben ali told dhondaram what he wanted. dhondaram was to hire out as a keeper for rajah, and the elephant was to do the business for the aëroplane. the cobra was to make things warm for motor matt. it was all cut and dried between the two hindoos. but i was rung into it when ben ali told dhondaram to work the hold-up here in jackson. dhondaram came to me at the ticket wagon and i had a short talk with him. he said he'd bowl me over and get the money, and then take chances on getting away and playing even with motor matt later. i didn't know how the hindoo was to work it; and i wouldn't have gone into the game at all if i had known all that was to happen. "dhondaram heard me talking with the dutchman when he flagged me and wanted to talk. he must also have heard the dutchman mention the canvas wagons, for he was there when we reached them. the first thing i knew the dutchman was down, lying like a log on the ground. there was nothing for me to do then but to mar myself up and make it look as though there had been a fracas. we put the money in the basket, and hid the basket under a pile of old canvas in one of the wagons. it was arranged that i should meet dhondaram to-night, bring the basket, and then we'd divide the loot. "but i was suspicious of dhondaram. he was a stranger to me, and i wasn't going to trust him. during the afternoon, while the aëroplane flight was on, i took the basket out of the wagon and stowed it in another place. by doing that i made it impossible for the hindoo to pick it up and slope without meeting me. that's all." "where's the money?" inquired burton. he had had abundant faith in andy carter, and there was something almost sad in the showman's face as he listened to the tale of treachery. carter leaned forward. "i'll tell you that, burton," he answered, "just as soon as you promise to let me off and not make any move against me on account of the robbery." the brazenness of the proposition struck burton, and struck him hard. but it was the logical thing for carter to do, in the circumstances. it was a trump card, and he was cunning enough to know how to play it. "i'm getting a good many surprises to-night," muttered burton, "but i guess i deserve it for trusting a whelp like you. i agree, of course. you know very well i can't do anything else." "you'll not take any legal action against me?" asked carter eagerly. "no." "of course i can't work for the show any longer?" "well, i should say not! what do you take me for?" "i thought as much, but i wanted to make sure." "just a moment," put in matt. "where were you to meet dhondaram, and at what time?" "didn't he tell you that? it was to be sometime before the show was over, at the edge of the grounds on the south side. i was to come that way with the basket, and whistle. where did you nab the hindoo? i suppose it was that infernal snake business that got you after him." "he hasn't been nabbed," returned matt. "you took that for granted, carter." carter sank back in his chair and stared. then he swore under his breath. "i'm a fool of the first water, and no mistake," said he, "but that hindoo will kill me if he's left at large. you can capture him if you go where i told you and do what i said. i'm playing in tough luck, burton," he added dejectedly. "you're playing in more luck than you ought to have, at that," snarled burton. "put on your hat and coat, and we'll go for the money." "no," put in matt, "let me take his hat and coat." burton stared, then gave a short laugh as matt's plan drifted over him. "right you are, matt," said he. "put on the hat and coat. i guess carter won't take any harm going out in his shirt sleeves and without his hat. but give me the gun. that will be of use in case andy forgets his agreement." a few minutes later they all left the ticket wagon, locking the door behind them. the wagon was constructed of boiler iron, and the money in the bags would be safe where it was until the time came for loading the show and getting ready to move to the next town. chapter xv. meeting the hindoo. andy carter, as it turned out, was playing his part in good faith. perhaps he reasoned that he had been sufficiently treacherous, and that the very least he could do was to wind up a bad business on the square. the basket, removed by him from the canvas wagon to prevent the hindoo from making off with it, had been carried to a clump of bushes not far from the railroad tracks, on the north side of the show grounds, and covered with a pile of broken sticks and other refuse. men were already pulling down some of the auxiliary tents and loading them into wagons and driving the wagons to the waiting train. the elephants and nearly all the animal cages had been loaded, while the band wagons and the "chariots" had been stowed in their cars late in the afternoon. "i suppose you're through with me, now?" inquired carter, after burton had secured the basket. "i will be," said burton, "as soon as i make sure that all the money is here." "you'll be too late to catch the hindoo," demurred carter, "if you insist on going back to the wagon and counting over all that stuff." "then we'll lay the hindoo by the heels before we count it. you can go with us, carter. it'll do you good to see the fellow caught." "he'll kill me!" declared carter, drawing back. "i guess he won't. there are too many of us for him to cut up very rough." "if he sees all of us coming across the grounds, he'll suspect something and sheer off." "there's sense in that, all right," remarked burton. "on the whole, i believe i'll change my plans." burton stopped one of the wagons that was moving toward the train. "where's harris?" he asked of the driver of the wagon. "he's comin' right behind me," was the answer. harris was burton's brother-in-law, and had always been in the showman's confidence. he was riding on a pile of tent poles, holding a couple of trunks on the load. "harris," called burton, "i want you to take this basket down to the train for me. don't let it get out of your hands." "another snake in it, burton?" queried harris, as he reached down for the basket. "well," answered burton, "i wouldn't look into it to find out. mind what i say and don't let the basket get away from you." having been reassured on this point by harris, burton, matt, mcglory, and carter moved on. picking up two men at the dismantled animal tent, burton turned carter over to them. "andy has resigned," the showman explained dryly to the men, "and he wants to go to the train after his trunk. you men go with him, and keep hold of him all the time. understand? see that he don't take anything but what belongs to him." carter was none too well liked among the show people, and the two men agreed cheerfully to look after him. "now," said burton, as he walked off with matt and mcglory, "we're in shape to meet the hindoo. i don't know what i can do with the scoundrel after i get my hands on him. if he is put in jail here, i'll have to come back myself, or send somebody else, to make out a case against him. that wouldn't do--it would only cause extra expense and a loss of time. i guess we'll tie him up and take him along with us on section two of the train." "dhondaram ought to be made pay for what he has done," said matt. "i think you ought to go to a little inconvenience, burton, in the interests of law and order." "the inconveniences may be more than you think, matt. suppose you would have to come back here to testify against the hindoo? that would mean no aëroplane work for two or three days. i couldn't stand for that." by that time, the three were close to the south side of the grounds. there were scattered clumps of bushes, here, and a few trees. "we'd better hang back, matt," whispered burton, "while you go on and do the whistling. we'll be near enough to help you when dhondaram shows himself. if he's too ugly, i'll use the revolver." "he's got a bowie, matt," cautioned mcglory. "don't let him get a hack at you with it. he could help out ben ali's scheme of vengeance a good deal handier with the knife than with the cobra." matt stepped on ahead of burton and mcglory, and began to whistle softly. he had not gone twenty feet before the whistle was answered and a dark figure stepped shadowily from behind some bushes. "carter sahib!" came a low call. "dhondaram?" returned matt. "here!" came the eager answer. "have you brought the basket, sahib?" "you know why i was to meet you," replied matt, ignoring the question. he disguised his voice as well as he could, and the low tone in which he spoke served still further to hide his identity. the hindoo could see that matt was not carrying anything, and evidently his distrust was aroused. "the sahib is fooling me!" he exclaimed. "you have not brought with you the basket. part of the money is mine." matt had supposed that the hindoo would run, as soon as he detected the trick. but he did not. on the contrary, he bounded straight at matt and caught him by the shoulders. "i want you, dhondaram!" cried matt, dropping his attempts at concealment. "you're a prisoner!" matt was strong, but the hindoo was as slippery as an eel. with his arms about him, matt tried to hold the villain, and in a measure succeeded. dhondaram, however, heard the running feet and the voices of burton and mcglory and redoubled his desperate efforts to escape. he broke from matt's arms, but matt caught his left wrist and clung to it like a leech. with his right hand the hindoo jerked his knife from his sash and made a vicious lunge with it. matt avoided the lunge, and before the attack could be repeated the showman and the cowboy had reached the scene. then, even with all three of them against him, dhondaram made a desperate resistance. but numbers prevailed, and the rascally scoundrel's hands were bound at his back by means of his turban, which was opened out and twisted into a makeshift rope. "he's a fighter, and no mistake," panted burton, as he held the prisoner by one arm while mcglory took the other. "no more nonsense, dhondaram," the showman threatened, flashing the weapon in front of his eyes. "you see what i've got? well, look out that i don't use it." the six-shooter, dimly visible in the gloom, had a quieting effect on the hindoo. "don't shoot, sahib," he begged. "i go where you want." "that's better," said burton. "trot along, and we'll soon be where we're going." their destination was the train, and they presently had dhondaram in the sleeping car attached to section two. very few of the show people had arrived, as yet, and an attempt was made to get a little information out of the prisoner. but the hindoo would not talk. in response to every question put to him, he shook his head and held his tongue. "he'll talk with us in the morning," said burton confidently. "just tie his feet, boys, and leave him here. i've got to go back to the ticket wagon." matt and mcglory made the prisoner's feet secure, and a tap on the window called matt's attention. thinking it might be burton, wishing to give him a private message, matt left the car. it was not burton, but carter and the two men set to watch him. carter wanted his hat and coat. while matt was returning the borrowed garments, carl and ping came along, talking amiably with each other. matt sent them into the car to look after the hindoo, and also to tell mcglory to come out and help prepare the aëroplane for loading. "i don't know, pard," said mcglory, as he and matt made their way hastily to the place where the _comet_ had been left, "but i reckon the motor boys have got a little the best of this ruction that dhondaram kicked up. burton has recovered the stolen money, carter has been fired, and dhondaram is a prisoner. luck's on our side after all, eh?" "that's the way it looks," answered matt. chapter xvi. a bit of a backset. the preparing of the aëroplane for loading was not a difficult matter. the small front planes were removed, and lashed between the two larger planes. this narrowed the machine sufficiently so that it could be loaded into the car especially prepared for it. after the machine had been safely stowed, the two tired lads went to their section in the sleeper. burton was there, sitting under a lamp and hastily running over the contents of the basket. "i guess it's all here," said he, dumping the silver and bills into the receptacle and closing the lid. "anyhow, i'm too much fagged to bother any more with the stuff to-night. it's about time we all turned in, don't you think?" "i'm ready's whole family, when it comes to that," yawned mcglory. "talk about your strenuous days! i think this has been a harder one than that other day we put in at lafayette, indiana. what do you say, matt?" "we seem to have worked harder than we did then, and to have less to show for it," said matt. "less to show for it!" repeated burton. "i don't know what you mean by that, son. it isn't every day you save your flying machine from a mad elephant and wrestle with a cobra on the _comet_, in midair!" "and it's not every day the big consolidated is held up, thieves captured, and _dinero_ recovered, all before we leave town," supplemented mcglory. "it was exciting enough," said matt, "but it all seems so useless." "the hand of ben ali was behind it all," remarked burton, pulling off his shoes. "that villain ought to be run down and put behind the bars for ninety-nine years. you'll not be safe a minute, matt, until he's locked up." "i guess," ventured the king of the motor boys, "that ben ali, after this lesson, will keep away from me." "i wish i could think so," said burton. "what'll you do with dhondaram?" inquired mcglory. "you can't send him to jail in any other town for an offense he committed in jackson." "sending him to jail is the last thing i'm thinking of," was burton's response. "what i want is to induce him to talk. he may give us a line on ben ali that will enable matt to keep away from the wily old villain." "don't hang onto dhondaram on my account," said matt. "i've told ben ali what to expect if he ever comes near me again." "that's you!" exulted mcglory. "all your scare-talk, burton, goes clean over matt's head." the showman pulled off his coat and leaned back in his seat reflectively. he did not seem to have heard mcglory's observation. "i've got a notion," began burton, "that----" he paused. "what's the notion?" urged the cowboy. "it ain't like you to hang fire, burton." "well," pursued burton, "it's this way: i've got an elephant on my hands that can't be handled by any white trainer in the show. dhondaram can handle the brute to the queen's taste. what's the answer?" "you don't mean to say," expostulated matt, "that you're going to keep dhondaram with the show just to take charge of rajah?" "it's either that or sell the elephant," declared burton. "then, sufferin' cats!" cried mcglory, "sell the brute. you're more kinds of a bungler, burton, than i know how to lay tongue to. keep dhondaram with the show, and he'll do something, before you're through with him, that will hurt." "i'll sleep on it," muttered burton. "i've only got four elephants, and i need rajah." "schust a minid, oof you blease," came the voice of matt's dutch pard from the aisle of the car. matt, mcglory, and burton turned around and saw not only carl, but ping as well. "what is it, carl?" asked matt. "i vant to know somet'ing," carl went on, "und dot iss, was i innocend or guildy? vat you say, misder purton?" "oh, splash!" exclaimed burton, "that was settled a long time ago. andy carter, the ticket man, admitted that he and the hindoo were the thieves." "den modor matt don'd haf to vork four veeks for nodding, schust for me?" "of course not." "dot's all i vanted to know, oxcept somet'ing else." "well, what?" "der hintoo brisoner iss in der blace vere ping shleeps. ping vants to go to ped, und i am to haf der ubber bert'. vat iss to be dit mit der hintoo?" "roll him into the aisle and let him lie there," replied burton. "put a blanket under him, if you want to, and give him a pillow." "t'anks," said carl, and the boys started away. "wait, carl," called matt. "there's a little something i want to know. how are you and ping getting along together?" "finer as silk," grinned carl. "he likes me pedder der more vat he knows me, und it's der same mit me. shinks iss hardt to ondershtand, but i'm schust gedding ondo ping's curves. he made a misdake in me, und now he feels pedder aboudt it. how iss dot, bard?" finished carl, turning to the chinaman. "awri'," answered ping, although not very enthusiastically. "that's the talk!" cried matt heartily. two hours later, the second section of the show train was loaded and speeding on its way. all was quiet in the sleeping car, save for the snores of the tired men who occupied the bunks. perhaps it was two o'clock in the morning when an uproar filled the sleeper. there were yells, a revolver shot, the slamming of a door, and then a measure of quiet. matt thrust his head out of his berth and saw mcglory, equally curious and excited, looking out from the berth overhead. all up and down each side of the car were other heads. "what's the matter?" asked matt. boss burton, in his underclothes, was standing in the aisle, a smoking revolver in his hand. "confound the luck!" he sputtered. "the hindoo has made a getaway. i happened to wake up and to think about him, and took a look along the aisle from my berth, just to make sure he was safe. i thought i was dreaming, or had the blind staggers, or something, when i saw him sitting up. his hands were free and he was taking the rope off his feet. i grabbed my revolver from under my pillow and rolled into the aisle. dhondaram had started for the door. i blazed away, did nothing but smash a window, and the hindoo jumped from the train." "are you going to stop and put back after him?" inquired archie le bon. "i guess i won't, although losing the fellow is a bit of a backset," observed burton regretfully. "the show can stand all the backsets of that kind that come its way, burton," said harris. "what will we do for somebody to manage rajah?" "oh, hang rajah!" said another of the le bon brothers. "i hope the first section runs into the ditch and smashes the brute. he came within one of killin' archie, back there in jackson." it was the general opinion, as the occupants of the various berths drew sleepily back into their beds, that it was a good thing dhondaram escaped. "wonder just how much that bit of a backset means for us, pard?" mcglory inquired of the king of the motor boys before dropping back on his pillow. "nothing, i hope," was the response. "we'll know for sure, i reckon, before we're many days older," muttered the cowboy as he straightened out in his bed and returned to his dreams of cobras and charging elephants. the end. the next number ( ) will contain motor matt's make-up; or, playing a new rÔle. high jinks in the side show--the "barker" shows his teeth--the man from washington--a clue in hindustanee--something wrong--a blunder in the right direction--the house with the green shutters--the pile of soot--matt meets an old acquaintance--rescue!--bill wily repents--matt lays his plans--motor car and aëroplane--the oak opening aëroplane wins--conclusion. motor stories thrilling adventure motor fiction new york, september , . terms to motor stories mail subscribers. (_postage free._) single copies or back numbers, c. each. months c. months c. months $ . one year . copies one year . copy two years . =how to send money=--by post-office or express money-order, registered letter, bank check or draft, at our risk. at your own risk if sent by currency, coin, or postage-stamps in ordinary letter. =receipts=--receipt of your remittance is acknowledged by proper change of number on your label. if not correct you have not been properly credited, and should let us know at once. ormond g. smith, } george c. smith, } _proprietors_. street & smith, publishers, - seventh avenue, new york city. on the bahama reefs. "and so your sister's going to spend the winter at nassau, for her health, eh? well, she might do worse, for it's very pleasant there, with its lovely climate, and pineapples, shells, sponges, and curiosities. yes, i've been to the bahama islands. didn't start for there, and didn't make any entry at the custom house, but i got there, all the same. it was a lively adventure, and no mistake." it was captain joe who made this speech, one day, as we sat on a wooden pier, angling for fish, which, i may add, we didn't catch. the captain, now that his active sea days were over, lived with his brother near-by, and was never so happy as when fishing with us boys, or spinning yarns to while away the time whenever the inconsiderate fish refused to bite. "i reckon i may as well tell you about it," he went on, "since that steamboat has stirred up the mud till no fish can see the bait. "i was eighteen years old then, and the doctors gave me just twelve months to live, for i was very delicate, and so, when we started, one raw november day, from boston, for a voyage to rio and back, i was as blue as an indigo bag. "the wind was fierce and cold, and the sea was lumpy, and we tumbled and rolled about like the mischief for five or six days, when we struck finer weather, and i at once began to feel better. "but a few days later the weather grew bad rapidly, so that by midnight it was blowing half a gale, with a tremendous sea on that made the good brig _polly ann_ tumble about as lively as a scotchman dancing the highland fling. "it was a fearful storm, indeed, almost a regular hurricane, and lasted for two days before it gave any signs of blowing itself out. "and then, when at last it began to subside, we found that we had sustained considerable damage, both our topmasts being gone, the mainmast sprung, and the rudder so twisted as to be of little service. "we had taken no observation for sixty hours, and were rather uncertain as to our location, which did not add to our comfort by any means. "it was well past midnight, and i had dropped off into a doze, when i was awakened by a tremendous shock that made everything tremble. "as i sat upright in my berth, there was a second shock, lighter than the first, and then the brig began to pound and thump, with a grinding, crushing sound. "in another moment the mate came running down into the cabin after something, with a scared look on his face, and cried out: "'we're on the reefs, and the brig's going to pieces!' and then he rushed on deck again. "i got up and tried to climb the ladder, but a dash of water came through the open hatch and washed me back. "somebody jammed the hatch shut, and i was a prisoner below. "the next moment a big wave lifted the brig up and sent her higher up on the reefs, and she rested quietly with no more pounding or thumping. "the captain came down after a while, and said we were ashore on the bahama reefs, and as the ship was easy now, and there was no immediate danger, we could do nothing but wait for daylight. "as dawn broke, i was on deck with the rest, the excitement of the occasion, or something else, having put new life into me, and i cared nothing for the sheets of spray and foam that, flying over the rails, drenched us all to the skin every minute. "before us, half a mile distant, was a low, white coast, covered with sand hills, and a few cocoa palms, their long, slender leaves thrashing about in the wind like a lot of enormous feather dusters. "the sea about us was churned into a mass of foam as the incoming waves were broken in pieces on the coral reefs, whose sharp, jagged tops of honeycomb rock rose here and there above the surface like the brown teeth of some marine monster. "between the coral reefs and the shore there was a stretch of smoother water, in marked contrast with the tumbling sea outside. "it was a perfect caldron of foaming water close about us, in which no boat could live a second, and so we waited as patiently as we could for the going down of the adjacent sea. "half an hour thereafter, to our great relief, we beheld a stanch little schooner rounding a point well inside the reefs, and making for us; and as she drew nearer we saw that her decks were full of men, white and black, clad in such a variety of costumes, with such diversity of loud colors, as at once suggested a piratical band of the seventeenth century. "but appearances were deceptive, for instead of freebooters bent on plunder, the strangers were good samaritans coming to our rescue--a lot of bahamian wreckers--men ever ready to save life and property for a consideration. "the captain of the little craft, which rejoiced in the highly appropriate name of the _fearless_, a sturdy, square-built man of fifty, with light hair and bluish eyes, and a salty air about him, balancing himself with the skill of an acrobat on the port rail, and making a trumpet of his hands, began a shouting conversation with us, in which he informed us that he wouldn't give a penny for our lives if we weren't ashore mighty soon, as the wind, backing to the northwest, would blow great guns again in a few hours, when our brig would probably go to pieces. "as the result of this confab, the wreckers began to make preparations to get us off the brig, which they accomplished in a skillful and courageous manner, running a line from the _fearless_ to our vessel, over which we were hauled in turn, though we were sorely battered and drenched by the angry sea that leaped up furiously, as if loath to lose its prey. "it was well they worked so rapidly, for we were scarcely ashore, and the schooner anchored behind a point, when the storm began to rage again with great fury, burying the old brig in mountains of foaming water. "when at last the storm abated, it was found that the brig had broken in two, the stern part sinking in deep water, and the cargo being scattered for miles along the coast, some of it being picked up, but in a useless condition, so that the wreckers realized substantially nothing in the way of salvage. "in a few days our company went in the _fearless_ to green turtle cay village, where they eventually secured a passage home. "as for myself, i refused to accompany them, having discovered a decided improvement in my health, which i naturally attributed to the climate, which was perfection itself, with a clear, bright sky, soft, genial breezes, and a pure, dry atmosphere that seemed to put new life into me with every breath. "so i remained to complete the cure so auspiciously begun, lodging with a planter named bethel, whom, to pay my board, i helped with the lighter work in his pineapple fields by day, giving his children a bit of schooling by night, to the mutual satisfaction, i am certain, of all concerned. "the half of the hulk of the _polly ann_ still clung to the great reefs where she had struck, at low tide being nearly out of water; and every day i looked at it, for it was in plain view from our veranda, with feelings of mingled pity and friendship--for it somehow always suggested to my mind my far-away home and the dear ones there. "ever since the wreck, the weather had been perfect--such charming days and nights as can be found only in the bahamas following each other uninterruptedly, until, as christmas approached, i conceived the idea that it would be nice to have our holiday luncheon on the deck of the hulk, and in this scheme all acquiesced, thinking it would be novel and delightful. "but the twenty-third of december ushered in a gale that swept with fury along the coast. "for twenty-four hours the elements held high carnival, and then, on christmas eve, there came a great lull, and the fierce storm, veering to the southward, died away as suddenly as it had arisen, giving us hope that our original plan might yet be carried out. "we were up early on christmas morning, and looking seaward, were astonished beyond measure at what we saw. "the hulk of the _polly ann_ had been loosened from the clutch of the coral reef and carried bodily over the ledge by the great waves--had been hurled upon the low inside beach, a huge broken mass, with its stern buried deep in the wet sand, its heavy timbers splintered to pieces, and its rusty iron bolts twisted like corkscrews. "we rushed to the beach--now as hard and smooth as a floor--and saw, scattered about near the nose of the _polly ann_, some circular pieces, which we at first took to be brownish-colored shells, but which we soon discovered were nothing of the kind. "i picked up a piece and found it to be nearly two inches broad, perfectly flat and smooth, the edge worn almost sharp, with some inscription on one side and figures on the other, which we could scarcely trace, so black and discolored was the entire surface. "i ran to a bit of honeycomb rock and rubbed the piece briskly over it, until presently the tarnish began to come off, and i shouted to bethel that it was a piece of silver. "'my stars!' he cried out, in great excitement, 'if it's not an old spanish dollar.' "and then he danced about like mad for a minute. "next we fell to work picking up all we could find till both our hats were nearly full of the pieces. "'where in the world did they come from?' asked bethel, after we had gathered in the last coin. 'i didn't suppose your old brig carried such a cargo, did you?' "'i never thought so, surely,' said i; 'nor do i believe she did.' "'where else could these coins have come from?' asked bethel. "'i don't know,' said i. 'but as the _polly ann_ is only ten years old, and these coins are near two hundred, if they are a day, why, it doesn't stand to reason they were in the brig. however, we will soon see. if they came out of her, there's more inside. come, we will look.' "we crept inside the old hull and examined carefully among her shattered timbers and twisted bolts, and spent two hours in prying up the planks inside the bow and along the bottom, but at last, tired and breathless, gave it up as a bad job, and came out as empty-handed as we went in. "'i told you so,' said i. 'they never sailed the sea in the _polly ann_.' "we spent the afternoon in counting our coins, finding we had between three and four hundred of them, and we grew quite hilarious over our christmas gift, as we styled it, and speculated in vain as to where the coins could have come from. "the next morning bethel said to me: "'i've been thinking half the night about those coins, and i remember my father used to tell of a spanish vessel that went ashore somewhere along here when he was a boy, and was gradually washed to pieces; and, do you know, i've an idea these pieces have been cast up by the sea from the old wreck. it's curious, however, that we never found any of them till this brig came plowing up the beach with her nose.' "while we were talking, two of the children came in with several of the pieces, which they had found at the water's edge, exactly like those we had picked up the day before. "'i tell you, sir,' cried bethel excitedly, 'my guess was right. i believe that old spaniard lies buried in the sand right where the _polly ann_ has stuck her bow in the beach. man alive, there may be millions down there!' "we rushed to the beach, and with shovels began to dig up the sand vigorously all about the wreck. "every now and then we came across another coin, which encouraged us tremendously, and we worked until we had dug a hole big enough to hold an ox cart. "but no more coins appeared, and we were getting discouraged, when bethel struck a heavy timber that ran under the forefoot of the brig, and which did not belong to the _polly ann_. "we cleared away the sand alongside this timber, and there lay a box, made of teak wood, split open from end to end, and jammed hard and fast between the decaying timber and the forefoot of the brig. "the splinters from the box were fresh and clean, showing that it had been crushed to pieces by the stem of the brig when she was driven into the beach by the storm. "and then we dug out the sand from under the debris of the teak box, and down came a shower of black silver pieces, exactly similar to the others, which we carefully and eagerly secured and piled up on the dry beach near by. "there was no longer any mystery as to where the coins came from, for we found the rotten timbers of the old spanish ship underlying the sand in every direction, none being less than ten feet from the surface. "for days we pursued our hunt for treasure, tunneling all about, but except those in the teak box not another piece did we find, and at last we desisted, satisfied that we had exhausted the deposit. "we kept the thing a secret, lest the authorities, taking advantage of some old and unjust law, might claim a portion of our treasure trove; and as there were no near neighbors, and as a brisk gale, which blew later on, filled up our excavations in the sand, this was an easy thing to do. "we divided our find, and my portion was nearly five thousand dollars, which i brought with me to the united states late in the ensuing summer, and disposed of it to a broker in boston, who was very curious to learn where i got it. "but he will never know, unless he learns it from this story. "my christmas gift was most acceptable, as you can readily believe; out what i valued far more was the fact that my eight months' residence in the lovely climate of the bahamas made me a well man, and my lungs ever since have been as stout as a blacksmith's bellows. "it's all right, my boy. tell your sister she'll have a nice time at nassau, and if she doesn't come back in the spring as good as new, then captain joe'll never prophesy again as long as he lives. "she'll not find any spanish dollars, maybe, but there's things worth more--and one is good health." the story of a wild goose. two years ago, one evening, while i was returning home from an unsuccessful shooting excursion along the atlantic shore, i observed a flock of wild geese coming toward me, but sailing high. i stood perfectly still, and when the flock was directly overhead i aimed and fired. in the twilight i could see the flock scattering at the report, and a bird wheeling downward with one wing limp and useless. he landed on a patch of plowed ground with a thud and lay half stunned. in a moment i had secured my prize. it was a large gander in prime condition, with a full, deep body, and healthy, lustrous feathers, and i determined to spare his life. i quickly tied his legs and fastened the uninjured wing. then, carefully lifting the bird and getting the broken limb into as comfortable a position as possible, i carried him home. most sportsmen have a crude knowledge of surgery, and i soon had the broken member bandaged with splints and strips of cotton and my captive resting comfortably, unbound, in a warm outhouse. in the morning, when i went out to feed him, he was walking around lively enough, and, although, of course, very shy and timid, he ate a hearty breakfast of corn as soon as he thought himself unobserved. in a few days he grew tame enough to allow me to stroke him with a bit of stick. it was long before he would suffer himself to be touched by the human hand. after some months the bird would answer to his name, michael, would eat out of my hand, and when i let him out into the yard, after clipping his wings, would follow me around like a dog. he invariably fled at the approach of a stranger, but he never "hissed" like a domestic goose. strange to say, although a flock of domestic geese was kept by a neighbor, he never paid the slightest attention to their cries and calls. after a time i allowed him to roam the fields at will. at night he returned without fail to his pen. i became much attached to the bird, so much so that goose shooting became distasteful to me and i discontinued the practice. last spring i received a letter from a particular friend requesting me to secure a wild goose for him. for various reasons i could not well refuse, so i at once made arrangements for a shooting excursion. in the midst of my preparations it occurred to me that i might employ michael as a decoy to lure the geese within gunshot. sometimes a domestic goose is used for this purpose, but seldom with complete success. the wild goose is an intelligent bird, and rarely places implicit confidence in his domesticated relative. in a secluded bight some miles down the coast i moored a small raft near shore and tethered michael to it by a stout string fastened to his leg. his wings by this time had grown to the length they possessed before being clipped, and the injured limb was as strong as ever. michael seemed well pleased with his situation, stretched his wings a few times as if the salt breath of the ocean stirred half-buried memories, but on finding himself secured settled down comfortably on the raft and calmly preened his gray feathers. i carefully screened myself behind a clump of scrub spruce and placed some spare cartridges conveniently near. i thought that if a passing flock should approach fairly near i might be able to fire a successful second shot if the first proved a miss. after a wait of perhaps an hour i heard in the distance a faint "honk" that quickened the heartbeats. michael also heard it, and ceasing to arrange his feathers, raised his head to listen eagerly. i watched him closely. his neck was proudly arched and his eyes glistened with excitement as he stepped as near the edge of the raft as his tether would allow. presently another "honk" dropped from the distant blue, and away to the south i could descry a large v-shaped flock flying fairly low, but altogether too much to the left of my position to render possible a successful shot. it was now time for michael to make himself heard, and i was beginning to grow somewhat uneasy at his silence, when all at once--"honk! honk!"--his joyous invitation sped up to the ears of the watchful leader of the air travelers. "honk?" queried that wary veteran suspiciously, but at once he slackened his pace somewhat. "honk! honk!" called michael reassuringly; "honk! honk!" he repeated coaxingly. for a moment the old leader seemed to hesitate, then slowly he turned in my direction, and presently the flock was sailing directly toward me. my rifle was ready and in position. i was well screened by the bushes. the light was admirable. everything was favorable to a good shot. in five minutes the flock was within range. michael had uttered several invitations during this time in reply to short interrogations from the leader, but he had suddenly relapsed into silence. he could see the approaching birds and was gazing at them with intense eagerness. my finger was on the trigger, when all at once, to my amazement, michael pealed out a strange cry, loud and shrill, utterly unlike any sound that i had ever heard him utter. it was the note of danger, the alarm signal of the wild goose. the effect on the approaching flock was electrical. the leader instantly turned and sped away with arrow-like swiftness, closely followed by his feathered retinue, leaving me motionless with surprise. when my captive first heard the calls of his comrades he instinctively answered with notes of invitation. the excitement of hearing and seeing his own kindred made him forget the danger that he was leading them into, but as they approached he seemed all at once to realize the situation. he knew that red death lurked behind the seemingly innocent shrubbery close at hand. perhaps the memory of his own sharp wound sprang into his mind. at all events, although he knew that to utter the warning cry would debar himself from the companionship of his kind, he unhesitatingly gave that warning with no uncertain sound. i laid down my rifle and pulled the raft in to the shore. michael was standing at the limit of his tether, gazing after his retreating friends. as the raft moved he sprang into the air, only to be jerked back by the restraining cord. i untied the string from the raft and drew the bird toward me. he submitted to my caresses, but i guessed how earnestly he longed to soar away after his kindred. he had saved some of them from death or captivity; they were free to roam the clear air of heaven while he---- i quickly untied the string from michael's leg and gently pushed the bird from me. instantly he spread his wings and sprang upward. with eager neck outstretched he swept rapidly after the vanishing flock, uttering hearty "honks" of jubilation. i felt that he was worthy of liberty. latest issues brave and bold weekly all kinds of stories that boys like. =the biggest and best nickel's worth ever offered. high art colored covers. thirty-two big pages. price, cents.= --working his way upward; or, from footlights to riches. by fred thorpe. --the fourteenth boy; or, how vin lovell won out. by weldon j. cobb. --among the nomads; or, life in the open. by the author of "through air to fame." --bob, the acrobat; or, hustle and win out. by harrie irving hancock. --through the earth; or, jack nelson's invention. by fred thorpe. --the boy chief; or, comrades of camp and trail. by john de morgan. --smart alec; or, bound to get there. by weldon j. cobb. --climbing up; or, the meanest boy alive. by harrie irving hancock. --comrades three; or, with gordon keith in the south seas. by lawrence white, jr. --a young snake-charmer; or, the fortunes of dick erway. by fred thorpe. --checked through to mars; or, adventures in other worlds. by weldon j. cobb. --fighting the cowards; or, among the georgia moonshiners. by harrie irving hancock. --the mud river boys; or, the fight for penlow's mill. by john l. douglas. --grit and wit; or, two of a kind. by fred thorpe. motor stories the latest and best five-cent weekly. we won't say how interesting it is. see for yourself. =high art colored covers. thirty-two big pages. price, cents.= --motor matt's quest; or, three chums in strange waters. --motor matt's close call; or, the snare of don carlos. --motor matt in brazil; or, under the amazon. --motor matt's defiance; or, around the horn. --motor matt makes good; or, another victory for the motor boys. --motor matt's launch; or, a friend in need. --motor matt's enemies; or, a struggle for the right. --motor matt's prize; or, the pluck that wins. --motor matt on the wing; or, flying for fame and fortune. --motor matt's reverse; or, caught in a losing game. --motor matt's "make or break"; or, advancing the spark of friendship. --motor matt's engagement; or, on the road with a show. --motor matt's "short circuit"; or, the mahout's vow. --motor matt's make-up; or, playing a new rôle. tip top weekly the most popular publication for boys. the adventures of frank and dick merriwell can be had only in this weekly. =high art colored covers. thirty-two pages. price, cents.= --dick merriwell's colors; or, all for the blue. --dick merriwell, driver; or, the race for the daremore cup. --dick merriwell on the deep; or, the cruise of the _yale_. --dick merriwell in the north woods; or, the timber thieves of the floodwood. --dick merriwell's dandies; or, a surprise for the cowboy nine. --dick merriwell's "skyscooter"; or, professor pagan and the "princess." --dick merriwell in the elk mountains; or, the search for "dead injun" mine. --dick merriwell in utah; or, the road to "promised land." --dick merriwell's bluff; or, the boy who ran away. --dick merriwell in the saddle; or the bunch from the bar--z. --dick merriwell's ranch friends; or, sport on the range. --frank merriwell at phantom lake; or, the mystery of the mad doctor. --frank merriwell's hold-back; or, the boys of bristol. --frank merriwell's lively lads; or, the rival campers. _for sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to any address on receipt of price, cents per copy, in money or postage stamps, by_ street & smith, publishers, - seventh avenue, new york =if you want any back numbers= of our weeklies and cannot procure them from your newsdealer, they can be obtained from this office direct. fill out the following order blank and send it to us with the price of the weeklies you want and we will send them to you by return mail. =postage stamps taken the same as money.= ________________________ _ _ _street & smith, - seventh avenue, new york city._ _dear sirs: enclosed please find_ ___________________________ _cents for which send me_: tip top weekly, nos. ________________________________ nick carter weekly, " ________________________________ diamond dick weekly, " ________________________________ buffalo bill stories, " ________________________________ brave and bold weekly, " ________________________________ motor stories, " ________________________________ _name_ ________________ _street_ ________________ _city_ ________________ _state_ ________________ a great success!! motor stories every boy who reads one of the splendid adventures of motor matt, which are making their appearance in this weekly, is at once surprised and delighted. surprised at the generous quantity of reading matter that we are giving for five cents; delighted with the fascinating interest of the stories, second only to those published in the tip top weekly. matt has positive mechanical genius, and while his adventures are unusual, they are, however, drawn so true to life that the reader can clearly see how it is possible for the ordinary boy to experience them. _here are the titles now ready and those to be published_: --motor matt; or, the king of the wheel. --motor matt's daring; or, true to his friends. --motor matt's century run; or, the governor's courier. --motor matt's race; or, the last flight of the "comet." --motor matt's mystery; or, foiling a secret plot. --motor matt's red flier; or, on the high gear. --motor matt's clue; or, the phantom auto. --motor matt's triumph; or, three speeds forward. --motor matt's air ship; or, the rival inventors. --motor matt's hard luck; or, the balloon house plot. --motor matt's daring rescue; or, the strange case of helen brady. --motor matt's peril; or, cast away in the bahamas. --motor matt's queer find; or, the secret of the iron chest. --motor matt's promise; or, the wreck of the "hawk." --motor matt's submarine; or, the strange cruise of the "grampus." --motor matt's quest; or, three chums in strange waters. --motor matt's close call; or, the snare of don carlos. --motor matt in brazil; or, under the amazon. --motor matt's defiance; or, around the horn. --motor matt makes good; or, another victory for the motor boys. --motor matt's launch; or, a friend in need. --motor matt's enemies; or, a struggle for the right. --motor matt's prize; or, the pluck that wins. --motor matt on the wing; or, flying for fame and fortune. to be published on august th. --motor matt's reverse; or, caught in a losing game. to be published on august th. --motor matt's "make or break"; or, advancing the spark of friendship. to be published on august d. --motor matt's engagement; or, on the road with a show. to be published on august th. --motor matt's "short circuit"; or, the mahout's vow. price, five cents at all newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, by the publishers upon receipt of the price. street & smith, _publishers_, new york transcriber's notes: added table of contents. inconsistent hyphenation ("getaway" vs. "get-away") retained from original. italics are represented with _underscores_, bold with =equal signs=. page , corrected typo "chaper" in "chapter ii" heading. page , added missing quote after "i'll go and talk with him. come on, matt, you and mcglory." page , corrected "interposel" to "interposed" after "don't be too sure of that." page , corrected typo "aëoplane" in "repaired aëroplane." page , corrected "fo" to "to" in "burton rode up to." page , changed ? to ! in "don't talk to me!" page , changed oe ligature to "oe" in "manoeuvred" (ligature retained in html version). page , removed extra quote after "trick or two" and before "well." corrected "burton" to "carter" in "carter was thoughtful for a few moments." page , corrected single to double quote after "you took that for granted, carter." page , added missing accent to aëroplane in contents of next issue (twice). courtesy of the digital library@villanova university (http://digital.library.villanova.edu/)) motor stories thrilling adventure motor fiction no. aug. , five cents motor matt on the wing or flying for fame and fortune _by the author of "motor matt"_ [illustration: _quick as a flash, motor matt caught the lieutenant's arm just in time to keep him from falling._] _street & smith._ _publishers._ _new york._ motor stories thrilling adventure motor fiction _issued weekly. by subscription $ . per year. copyright, , by_ street & smith, _ - seventh avenue, new york, n. y._ no. . new york, august , . price five cents. motor matt on the wing or, flying for fame and fortune. by the author of "motor matt." table of contents chapter i. wanted: a man of nerve. chapter ii. foiling a scoundrel. chapter iii. matt makes an investment. chapter iv. matt explains to m'glory. chapter v. ping and the bear. chapter vi. a new venture. chapter vii. a partner in villainy. chapter viii. matt shifts his plans. chapter ix. dodging trouble. chapter x. blanked. chapter xi. siwash shows his teeth--and his heels. chapter xii. "uncle sam" takes hold. chapter xiii. on the wing. chapter xiv. dastardly work. chapter xv. the government trial. chapter xvi. fame--and a little fortune. tricked by two. idaho to feed elks. noisy avians. fish that cannot swim. characters that appear in this story. =matt king=, otherwise motor matt. =joe mcglory=, a young cowboy who proves himself a lad of worth and character, and whose eccentricities are all on the humorous side. a good chum to tie to--a point motor matt is quick to perceive. =ping pong=, a chinese boy who insists on working for motor matt, and who contrives to make himself valuable, perhaps invaluable. =mrs. traquair=, wife of the inventor, harry traquair, who lost his life by a fall from an aëroplane of his own invention. =amos murgatroyd=, a mortgage shark who gets the traquairs in his clutches and becomes a bitter enemy of motor matt. =siwash charley=, a ruffian who becomes the tool of murgatroyd in his desperate attempts to keep matt from flying the traquair aëroplane in the government trials. =lieutenant cameron=, an officer in the signal corps, u. s. a., who proves to be the cousin of an old friend of matt, and who nearly loses his life when the aëroplane is tested. =mr. black=, a friendly real estate man of jamestown, n. d., who owns an automobile which proves of good service to the king of the motor boys. =sergeant o'hara=, a good soldier, but who indulges in a game of cards at an inopportune moment. =benner=, post trader at fort totten, a bluff person who falls into a trap laid by siwash charley. =jake=, a teamster for benner, who uses a blacksnake whip in a novel, but effective way. chapter i. wanted: a man of nerve. "mr. amos murgatroyd?" "my name." amos murgatroyd whirled around in his office chair and measured his caller with a pair of little, gimlet eyes. the caller, at the same time, was measuring murgatroyd. the young man who had entered the musty office of the loan broker and was now undergoing his scrutiny, stood straight as a plumb line, his shoulders squared, his lithe, well-set-up form "at attention." he wore a cap, and his clothes were of dark blue and of a semi-military cut. he was prepossessing in appearance, which, most decidedly, the loan broker was not. murgatroyd's face was too lean and hard, his eyes too sharp and shifty, to give one a very exalted idea of his character. the caller drew a folded newspaper from the breast pocket of his coat and laid it on the broker's desk. "are you the man who put that 'ad' in the paper?" inquired the youth. murgatroyd picked a pair of nose glasses off his vest, carefully adjusted them, and lifted the paper. the following marked paragraph riveted his attention: wanted: a man of nerve, one who has had some experience with flying machines and can handle a gasoline motor. to such a person a chance is offered to fly for fame and fortune in a new aëroplane. sand and sagacity absolutely essential. call on or address, a. murgatroyd, brown block, jamestown, north dakota. the broker dropped the paper, leaned back in his chair, and swept the glasses off his nose. tapping the glasses against the knuckles of his left hand, he continued to regard the youth. "well?" he growled. "it's my 'ad.' what of it?" "i've come several hundred miles to answer it in person." "you? why, i advertised for a man, not a boy." "what difference does that make, so long as i can do the work?" amos murgatroyd had no answer for this, and his remarks took another tack. "had any experience with aëroplanes?" "no, but i have had a good deal to do with dirigible balloons. if you're hunting for a man who is experienced with aëroplanes, mr. murgatroyd, i guess you'll have to hunt for a long time. heavier-than-air machines are only just beginning to come to the front, and the supply of experienced drivers is limited. it was the chance to familiarize myself with flying of that kind that brought me here." murgatroyd continued to tap reflectively with his glasses. "do you know that the man who invented the aëroplane fell with one of the machines and was killed?" he inquired. "i heard that there had been an accident here, recently," was the answer. "that was ten days ago, over in the park. the aëroplane turned turtle, dropped fifty feet, and traquair was badly smashed. he lived about fifteen minutes and wasn't able to speak a word. the machine may be wrong in principle, i don't know that, but i've got to get some reliable person, who's not too much afraid of risking his neck, to learn the machine and then give an exhibition for the government, up at fort totten. the trial is set for two weeks from to-day. there's not much time, you see, to learn the ropes." "i believe i could learn the ropes," said the other confidently. "i seem to have a knack for picking up such things." "if anything happens to you, your relatives may come at me for damages." "so far as i know, mr. murgatroyd, i haven't any relatives." the beady, gimlet eyes gleamed with undisguised satisfaction. "you will have to sign a paper," went on murgatroyd, "releasing me from all responsibility, financial or otherwise, in case any accident happens." "i'm willing," was the cool response. "it can't be that you have very much confidence in your aëroplane, mr. murgatroyd." "solid ground is good enough for me. if man was intended to fly he would have been born with wings. that's where i stand in this aëronautical game. besides, traquair invented the machine--i didn't; and the fact that traquair was killed by his own invention doesn't give me superlative confidence in it." the youth wondered why murgatroyd was taking such an interest in a machine that did not command his confidence. the next moment the broker explained this point. "traquair owed me money, and the machine was the only thing belonging to him that i could get hold of. if the test at fort totten is satisfactory, the war department will buy the aëroplane at a good figure. this is the only way i can get back the loan, you see?" "what are you willing to pay for the work you want done?" the youth's tone was chilling and business-like. he was anything but favorably impressed with murgatroyd. "i won't pay a red cent," declared the broker. "i'll furnish the aëroplane, and you can use it for practice. if you please the war department, and they pay fifteen thousand for the machine, we'll split the amount even. that's fair enough. i won't be throwing good money after bad, and success or failure is put up to you." "is the machine you have the one that killed traquair?" murgatroyd gave a choppy laugh. "i should say not! there was nothing but kindling wood left of that machine. traquair was intending to fly for the government, and he had a machine constructed especially for the purpose. it's in storage at fort totten now. the machine he was using here was the first one he built. by the way, young man, what's your name?" "king, matt king." murgatroyd gave a grunt of surprise, jammed his glasses on his nose, and stared at his caller with renewed interest; then, suddenly, he pressed a push button at the side of his desk. a clerk appeared, a wizened, dried-up little man, who came in with a cringing air. "yes, mr. murgatroyd?" "file 'k,' prebbles. and dust it off. why don't you go around this place with a duster, once in a while? the older you get, prebbles, the less you seem to know." the clerk winced. with a deferential bow, he turned and slunk out of the room. he returned in a few minutes, a duster in one hand and a battered letter file in the other. murgatroyd took the file on his desk and sent prebbles away with a curt gesture. after a brief search through the file, the broker developed a number of newspaper clippings. "that your picture?" he asked, holding up a clipping with an electrotype reproduction of the king of the motor boys at the top of it. "it's supposed to be," smiled matt, wondering why this close-fisted broker had gone to so much trouble to collect the clippings. "you had a flying machine called the _hawk_, quite a while ago, didn't you?" pursued murgatroyd, studying the clippings. "it was a dirigible balloon," explained matt. "correctly speaking, a flying machine is not a motor suspended from a gas bag." "quite right. i got these clippings from a clipping bureau in the east, and ever since i found this aëroplane on my hands i've been trying to locate you. finally i had to give up, and then it was that i put that 'ad' in the paper. and now, here you come answering the 'ad'! looks like fate had something to do with this, eh?" "just a coincidence," answered matt, "and not such a remarkable coincidence, either. if you knew me better, mr. murgatroyd, you'd understand how anxious i am to become familiar with every sort of machine propelled by a gasoline motor. it's the coming power"--matt's gray eyes brightened enthusiastically--"and as motors are improved, and their weight reduced in direct ratio with the increase in the horse power, the explosive engine will be used in ways as yet----" "that's all right," cut in murgatroyd, who was coldly commercial and as far removed from anything like enthusiasm as night is from day. "a gasoline engine is a noisy, dirty machine and smells to high heaven. but that's neither here nor there. will you take hold of this aëroplane matter, learn how to run the traquair invention, and then test it out at fort totten, two weeks from to-day?" "i'll think it over," said motor matt. he would not have taken a minute to consider the matter if he had been more favorably impressed with murgatroyd. "i can't wait very long for you to make up your mind," went on the broker, visibly disappointed. "there's only two weeks between now and the fort totten trials." "i'll give you an answer by to-morrow morning," and matt turned toward the door. "fame and fortune are in your grasp," urged murgatroyd. "don't let 'em slide through your fingers." without answering, but nodding a good day to the broker, matt stepped into the outer room. as he passed through this other office, he saw prebbles on a high stool, humped over a ledger. the clerk's eye shade and little bald head, and his thin, crooked body, gave him the grotesque appearance of a frog, roosting on a stone, and getting ready to jump. matt passed on into the hall. before he could descend the stairs he heard a hissing sound behind him. turning, he saw the clerk standing in the open door, touching his lips with a finger in token of silence. matt paused with his hand on the stair rail, and the clerk came gliding toward him. "don't have anythin' to do with him," said prebbles, in a tremulous whisper; "he's a robber." "who's a robber?" returned matt. "murgatroyd. he's a skinflint and hasn't any more heart than a stone. he's a robber, i tell you; and, anyhow, if you try to run that machine you'll get killed. traquair got killed, and he invented it, and knew more about it than you can ever learn. if----" a buzzer began to sound its call in the outer office. prebbles whirled and shuffled away. pausing at the door, he turned to repeat, in a stage whisper: "leave him alone, i tell you. he's a robber, and you'll get killed." then prebbles vanished, and matt went thoughtfully down the stairs. chapter ii. foiling a scoundrel. near jamestown the "jim" river forms a loop, encircling a generous stretch of timber. wherever there is timber, in any prairie country, there is an invitation for men to make a park; so the ground encompassed by this loop of the river was beautified and obtained the name of "city park." after leaving the broker's office, matt started for the park. in the outskirts of town he met a youngster walking in the direction of the river, with a fishpole over his shoulder. "hello," said matt. "hello yourself," answered the boy. "do you know where mr. traquair lost his life in that flying machine?" "i guess yuh don't live in jimtown, do yuh?" returned the boy. "everybody around here knows where _that_ happened." "no," said matt, "i only reached jamestown last night." "well, the' was a hull crowd o' us seen traquair when his flyin' machine flopped over. he come down like a piece o' lead, all mixed up with ropes, an' canvas, an' things. gee, but that was a smash. i was one o' the kids that went to tell mrs. traquair. she was allers afeared traquair 'u'd git a drop, so she never went to see him do his flyin', an' she never let any o' the kids go, nuther. i wisht i hadn't gone. say, i dream about that there accident 'most ev'ry night, an' it skeers me stiff." "i'll give you half a dollar," went on matt, "if you'll take me to the scene of the accident. will you?" "you've bought somethin', mister," grinned the boy. "i was goin' fishin', but i'd pass up a circus if some un offered me half a dollar." they pushed on toward the park. "fellers that try to fly ain't got as much sense as the law allows, i guess," remarked the boy. "ever'body said traquair 'u'd break his neck, an' that's what happened." "what kind of a machine did he have?" queried matt. "doggone if i know. it had wings, an' machinery, an' a thing that whirled behind, an' three bicycle wheels, an' rudders, an' i dunno what-all." "what were the bicycle wheels for?" asked matt, interested. "traquair had to take a runnin' start afore he got wind enough under his wings to lift him. when the wheels begun to leave ground, he turned the power onto the whirlin' thing behind, an' that made him scoot up into the air; then, somehow, he folded the bicycle wheels up under the machine." "did traquair ever do much flying?" "did he? well, i guess! the day before he got killed he was in the air as much as two hours, twistin' an' turnin' an' floppin' ev'ry which way, jest like a big chicken hawk. the' wasn't much wind, that time, an' people say that's how he was able to keep right side up. the day he dropped, the wind was purty middlin' strong from the west." "how did the accident happen?" "that's more'n anybody knows. traquair was skimmin' over the tops o' the trees, an' a big crowd was down on the ground lookin' at him; then, all to oncet the' was a snap, like somethin' had busted. the wind grabbed holt o' them canvas wings an' slammed it plumb over, the hull bizness droppin' so quick we hadn't much more'n time to git out o' the way." by this time matt and the boy had reached a cleared space among the trees. in the middle of it was a level, grassless stretch, almost as hard as a board floor. "there, mister," said the boy, pointing, "is where traquair used to start. he'd git his bicycle wheels to whirlin' at one end o' that tennis ground, an' when he reached t'other end o' it he was in the air. he was comin' back to the startin' place when he dropped. here's the place." the boy stepped off to the left and pointed to a spot where the earth was grewsomely gouged and torn. "traquair was crazy," observed the boy, as matt stepped toward the bruised turf, and stood there reflectively. "ev'rybody says his flyin' machine was a fool killer." "traquair was a great man, my lad," answered matt, "and a martyr to science. he gave up his life trying to help the human race conquer the air. don't call him crazy." "gee, mister," scoffed the boy, "he'd better have helped his folks 'stead o' givin' so much time to the human race. mrs. traquair had to take in washin' to keep the fambly in grub." matt kicked up a twisted bolt. "that's a momentum," said the boy. "i guess you mean memento," laughed matt, tossing the bolt away. "mebby it's that where you come from," persisted the boy doggedly, "but it's momentum out here in dakoty. things is diff'rent in the northwest to what they is in the east." "where does mrs. traquair live?" asked matt. "what hotel yuh stoppin' to, mister?" "gladstone house." "then you can pass mrs. traquair's shack right on the way back to the hotel," and the boy proceeded to give matt minute instructions as to the way he should go in order to reach the house. matt flipped a silver coin to the youngster, and turned and started back toward the town. the boy pushed the coin into his pocket and went whistling in the direction of the river. several things were drawing motor matt in the direction of the traquair home. mainly, he distrusted murgatroyd, and thought that perhaps mrs. traquair might be able to tell him something about the man. then, too, matt was anxious to learn what he could about the traquair aëroplane, and felt sure there were papers containing drawings or descriptions at the house which would give a tolerably clear idea of the machine. the traquair home was in a squalid neighborhood. most of the houses were tumbledown structures with windows ornamented with old garments wherever a pane of glass happened to be missing. but, despite its unpainted walls and sagging roof, the traquair house had about it an air of neatness that distinguished it from its neighbors. there was no rubbish in the front yard, and two pieces of broken sewer pipe, set on end near the gate, had been filled with earth and were blooming with flowers. in the rear were two long lines of drying clothes. a pang of pity went to matt's heart. no matter how heavily the hand of grief had fallen on mrs. traquair, she could not neglect the toil necessary to supply the needs of herself and of her fatherless children. three youngsters--a boy and two girls, the boy being the oldest and not over six--stood in a frightened huddle on the front walk, near the gate. the smaller of the two girls was crying. "what's the matter?" asked matt, halting beside the forlorn little group. "we're 'fraid to go in the house," answered the boy, looking up at matt. "do you live there?" "yes'r, but we're 'fraid. he's in there with mom, an' he's talkin' like he was mad." "who are you?" "teddy traquair. i'm six, an' sis, here, is risin' five. mary jane's only three." "who's talking with your mother, ted?" "murg. i hate him, he's so mean to mom. he was mean to pap, too. but pap's dead--he got kilt when the flyin' machine dropped." there was a pathetic side to this for a lad with a heart as soft as matt's, but just then he had no time for that phase of the matter. the windows of the front room of the house were open, and covered with mosquito net. voices could be heard coming from the front room--a woman's voice, tearful and full of entreaty, and a man's sharp, clean-cut, and almost brutal. quietly matt passed through the gate and took up his post near one of the windows. "you sign this paper," murgatroyd was saying, "and i'll give you a receipt for two years' interest. what more do you expect?" "i can't sign away all my rights to my husband's invention, mr. murgatroyd!" a woman's voice answered. "the interest for two years is only three hundred dollars, and that machine he sent to fort totten cost nearly a thousand dollars to build. it isn't right, mr. murgatroyd, for you to take the machine the government is thinking of buying, and all my interest in poor harry's invention, for just three hundred dollars." "oh, you know a heap about business, you do, don't you?" snarled murgatroyd. "what good's the flying machine, anyway? it killed your husband, and it's likely to kill anybody else that tries to run it. by taking over the invention, i feel as though i was loading up with a white elephant, but i've got a chance to get a young fellow to try and fly in that aëroplane at fort totten. i'll have to pay him a lot of money to do it, and before i make an arrangement with him i've got to have your name down in black and white to this paper. do you think for a minute i'm going to spend my good money, paying this young fellow two or three thousand dollars to risk his neck in that machine, when i haven't got any writing from you to protect me? sign this paper. if you don't, i'll come here and take everything you've got in the house to pay that hundred and fifty, interest. don't whine around about it, because it won't do any good. if you want to keep a roof over your head, you do what i say--and do it quick." it would be impossible to describe the harsh brutality of the loan broker's words. the ruffianly bullyragging was apparent to matt, even though he could not see what was taking place in the room, and his blood began to boil. "i can't do what you ask, mr. murgatroyd," said the woman brokenly. "when the two years had passed, you'd have the homestead, and the invention, and everything i've got. my duty to my children----" a savage exclamation came to matt's ears, followed by a cry from the woman and the clatter of an overturned chair. prebbles had said that murgatroyd was a robber. matt, of course, could not understand all the ins and outs of the present situation, but he understood enough to know that the broker was seeking to browbeat a defenseless woman, and to intimidate her into signing away rights which meant much to her and her children. without a moment's hesitation, the king of the motor boys leaped through the window--with more or less damage to the mosquito netting. chapter iii. matt makes an investment. murgatroyd, his face distorted with anger and his little eyes snapping viciously, was clutching a slender, middle-aged woman by the arm. he had leaped at her, in a burst of rage, overturning the chair, which happened to stand in his way. matt's unceremonious entrance into the room startled murgatroyd. releasing his grasp of mrs. traquair's arm, he fell back a step, staring at matt as though at a ghost. mrs. traquair was so desperate and frightened that she was not nearly so startled by the lad's spring through the window as was murgatroyd. from matt's manner she was not long in realizing that fate had sent her a champion at just the moment when she needed one most. instinctively, she drew toward the youth, half fearful and half appealing. "ah, king!" exclaimed murgatroyd, struggling to get the whip hand of himself. "rather a peculiar way you have of coming into a house," he added, with some sarcasm. "it looked as though i was needed," returned matt grimly. "you'd better look again. you're not needed. this is a little money transaction between mrs. traquair and myself. isn't that so, mrs. traquair?" he queried, turning to the woman. "y-e-s," answered mrs. traquair, her voice so low it was almost a whisper. "don't butt in here, king," scowled murgatroyd. "you hear what the lady says. this is none of your business." "that's where i differ from you," said matt sturdily. "if i'm not mistaken, you were using me as a club to drive mrs. traquair into signing that paper," and he nodded toward a document that was lying on the table near pen and ink. "don't make any misstatements, sir," blustered the broker. "and don't you," cautioned matt. "i overheard you tell mrs. traquair that you would have to pay a thousand or two in order to get me to risk my life flying that aëroplane. as a matter of fact, mr. murgatroyd, you did not offer to pay me a cent. i was to exhibit the machine, then, if the government bought it for fifteen thousand dollars, i was to have half." the red ran into murgatroyd's face. "how do you know that i was referring to you?" he demanded. "i know it, and that's enough." matt picked the paper from the table. "i'll just look over this and see----" "give that to me!" cried murgatroyd, stepping toward matt and making a grab at the document. matt jumped back quickly and thrust the paper behind him. "mrs. traquair," said he to the woman, "i want to be a friend of yours. may i read this?" "so--so far as i am concerned," the woman whispered, with a frightened look at the broker. "by thunder," exploded murgatroyd, "i'll not stand for this! give that up, king, or i'll have the law on you." "the law won't touch me," said matt. "this paper was prepared by you for mrs. traquair to sign; as a friend of mrs. traquair's i have the right to look the trap over before you spring it." "well, of all the impudence---- say, i wouldn't let you fly that aëroplane for me if it never got a try-out at fort totten. i'll be even with you for this, my lad! i'll--i'll----" murgatroyd choked up with wrath and could not finish. meanwhile, matt had glanced at the paper. one glance was sufficient. "this, mrs. traquair," said he, "is a document conveying all your right, title, and interest in your late husband's aëronautical inventions, and in the aëroplane now in the post trader's store at fort totten, to amos murgatroyd. and the consideration is three hundred dollars. you will not sign it, of course?" "but what am i to do?" faltered the woman hopelessly. "whatever you do, mrs. traquair, you must not sign away your interest in what may perhaps prove valuable property, for such a small sum." then matt, with steady hands, ripped the document into ribbons. if murgatroyd had been angry before, he was fairly beside himself now. "you--you young scoundrel," he cried, shaking his fist, "i'll teach you to meddle in my business affairs. this isn't the last of this, not by a long chalk. i'll have this woman and her brats out in the street before night. i'll----" "you'll keep a respectful tongue between your teeth, that's what you'll do," and motor matt stepped resolutely toward the broker. there was something in the lad's bearing that caused murgatroyd to grab his hat and retreat precipitately to the door. "you'll hear from me, the pair of you," he snarled, "before you're many hours older." then the door slammed. through the open window, edged with its torn streamers of mosquito net, matt could see the broker hustling through the gate. a choking sob struck on the lad's ears, and he whirled to find mrs. traquair in a chair, her face in her hands. there were ample evidences of poverty in the bare little front room, and the appearance of the woman herself testified eloquently of a fierce effort to keep the wolf from the door by grinding toil. matt's heart was full of sympathy for her in her trouble. "don't take it so hard, mrs. traquair," said matt, stepping to her side. "there may be a way out of this." she lifted her head. "no, there is no way out," she answered, in a stifled voice, "you don't know mr. murgatroyd! you don't know what it means to owe him money and not be able to pay him even the interest." "how much do you owe him?" "just a thousand dollars." "but he said the interest due, if i recall his words, was one hundred and fifty dollars." "that's right--fifteen per cent." "fifteen per cent? great spark-plugs! why, that's usury." "not out here. harry borrowed the money on our homestead, up in wells county. he needed it to build his aëroplane, and he needed a lot more that he raised by selling his live stock and farming tools and some of the furniture. he thought he'd get everything back when he showed what the aëroplane could do, and sold it to the government. but--but the very machine that was to make our fortune has taken his life, and--and what am i to do?" mrs. traquair's face went down into her reddened, toil-worn hands again. "there may be a way out of this, mrs. traquair," said matt. "it's clear, i think, that murgatroyd is a thief and a scoundrel. if he didn't believe there was merit in your husband's invention he wouldn't be trying to get hold of it. have you any drawings, or papers from the patent office, that i can look at to get an idea of what the aëroplane is like?" "there is a model----" "good! a model will do better than anything else." mrs. traquair went into another room and brought out an old "telescope" grip. unbuckling the straps with fingers that still trembled, she lifted out of the grip and held up for matt's inspection the beautifully constructed model of an aëroplane. matt sat down in a chair and took the model on his knees. for all of ten minutes he studied the small machine, his eyes glowing with amazement and delight. "i haven't had much experience with aëroplanes," said matt finally, lifting his eyes to mrs. traquair's, "but i've put in a good deal of time studying them. i came to jamestown in the hope that i could make a deal with murgatroyd and get a little practical work with a real flying machine. when i first met murgatroyd i didn't understand the circumstance so well as i do now; and after overhearing what i did while standing outside that window, and after inspecting this model, i am more anxious than ever to make an acquaintance with the larger machine at fort totten. you haven't signed any papers giving murgatroyd a hold on that machine, have you, mrs. traquair?" "i haven't put my name to anything," declared the woman. "harry had arranged for the government test, and had sent the machine to fort totten before the--the accident. after that, mr. murgatroyd came here and said he would have to take the aëroplane, and get some one to fly it, unless i could pay him the interest money. what could i do?" the poor woman made a pathetic gesture with her hands. "there were the funeral expenses to pay, and i could not even think of paying the interest. mr. murgatroyd said that he would try and find some one who was fool enough to risk his neck in the aëroplane, and that if he could find such a person he would talk with me again. that was the reason he came here this morning." matt placed the model on the table, and walked thoughtfully up and down the room. "there are two or three ideas embodied in this aëroplane, mrs. traquair," said he, halting in front of the woman, "that seem to me to be of immense value. do you know whether mr. traquair protected the ideas with patents?" "harry said that all his inventions were securely protected. i can find the papers if you----" "your word is enough, for the present. a friend of mine came to jamestown with me, and we have a little money which we would like to invest. now, i will make this proposition: if you will give me an order on the post trader at fort totten for the aëroplane, i will go to the fort at once and familiarize myself with the machine; then, when the time for the government test arrives, i'll put the aëroplane through its paces. if the try-out is a success, then i and my friend are to have half of the fifteen thousand dollars to be paid for the machine. i will stand my own expenses, and, in addition, will give you five hundred dollars. you can take some of this money and pay murgatroyd his interest; then, if the trial at totten is a success, you will have plenty to take up the mortgage. understand, i am not buying an interest in the invention--that, i firmly believe, is worth more than i could pay--but i am buying a half interest in what the government is to hand over, providing the government officials are pleased with the performance of the aëroplane." mrs. traquair was so overwhelmed she could hardly speak. "i don't want to rob you," she protested; "i don't want to rob anybody, or----" matt interrupted her with a laugh. "i'm willing to take a chance, mrs. traquair," said he. "if you will come to the gladstone house at three o'clock this afternoon, we'll have a lawyer draw up the papers, and i'll give you your money. can i take that model with me to the hotel? i'm a stranger to you, so i'll leave twenty dollars in place of the model." "who'll i ask for when i come to the hotel?" inquired mrs. traquair. this unexpected stroke of fortune seemed to have dazed her. she had heard murgatroyd call matt by name, but she did not appear to remember. "matt king," the young motorist answered. a cry of astonishment fell from mrs. traquair's lips. "i've heard my husband speak of you dozens of times!" she exclaimed. "a friend of his, in chicago, sent him a newspaper clipping about you. motor matt is what you were called in the newspaper article, and you had a flying machine----" "a dirigible balloon, mrs. traquair," interrupted matt. "may i take the model?" "yes, yes," answered the woman eagerly, "do whatever you please--i am sure harry would have it so if he could be here and speak for himself. heaven is kind to raise me up a friend like you, at such a time." hope glowed in mrs. traquair's face--for the first time, it may be, since her husband's death--and matt was happy, for it was a pleasure to know that he was doing some good in the world while helping himself. a few minutes later, with the telescope grip in his hand, he left the house and made his way swiftly in the direction of the hotel. chapter iv. matt explains to m'glory. joe mcglory sat in front of the gladstone house wondering what had become of his pard. matt had been gone from the hotel for three hours, and when he left he thought he would be back in an hour. just as mcglory had made up his mind to go bushwhacking around the town, in the hope of picking up his pard's trail, the king of the motor boys turned the corner, carrying a telescope satchel, and walking rapidly. "thought you were lost, strayed, or stolen, matt," sang out mcglory. "what have you got there?" he added, his eyes on the grip. "a flying machine," laughed matt. "speak to me about that!" gasped the cowboy. "has it come to this, pard, that every man can tote a flying machine in his grip, then unpack, and hit a trail through the clouds whenever he takes the blessed notion? go on!" "it's only a model," went on matt. "come up to our room, and i'll tell you about it." "let's sit in at grub pile first. the dinner gong was pounded half an hour ago, and i'm as hungry as a buck injun on a diet of cottonwood bark." matt took the satchel into the dining room with him, and kept it between his feet all the while he was eating. "you act like that thing was full of gold bricks," remarked mcglory, as he and matt climbed the stairs to their room as soon as the meal was done. "not gold bricks," said matt. "there's the biggest little thing in this grip, joe, you ever saw in your life." "have you hired out to that murgatroyd person as the human sky-rocket?" inquired mcglory, as he unlocked and opened the door of the room. "i'm going to try out an aëroplane, up at fort totten, but not for murgatroyd. a lot of things came up this morning, and that's what took me so long. the only way for you to get the whole business straight is for me to begin at the beginning. now sit down, take it easy, and i'll tell you what i've found out, and what i've done." the cowboy was anxious to see what was in the satchel, but matt made no move to gratify his curiosity, just then; instead, he launched into his experiences at murgatroyd's office, at city park, and, lastly, at mrs. traquair's. when he was through, mcglory rubbed his eyes, stared, then rubbed his eyes and stared again. "what's the matter with you?" inquired matt. "dreamin'," answered the cowboy. "you're going to take a little fly for fame and fortune, and i'm in on the deal to the tune of two hundred and fifty cold plunks. it's all right, pard. i'd buy an interest in the north pole if you thought there was any profit in icicles; but tell me: will it be pleasant for your uncle joe to stand on the ground and watch you taking flyers in a thing that killed one fellow, and is hungry to wipe out another? remember, i'm putting up two-fifty for the privilege. it's all very fine to help out a poor widow in distress, and to backcap a loan shark like murgatroyd--that reads like a book, and i'm plumb tickled to help--but, son, there's your neck to think about." "i'm not going to take any foolish chances, joe," said matt earnestly. "i'm hungry to run an aëroplane with a gas engine--and this aëroplane is the goods, don't forget that." "um-m! suppose you let me look at the goods?" matt unbuckled the straps, and lifted the model of the aëroplane out of its case. "oh, tell me about that!" jeered the cowboy. "two strips of cloth, one above the other, with an engine between 'em and a propeller behind! fine! you'd look pretty a mile high in that thing!" "this," said matt, taking the model on his knee, "is the fruit of several hundred years of thought and study." "sufferin' buzzards! if i couldn't think up an arrangement like that in two minutes, and make it in three, i'm a piute." "when you understand it, joe, you'll think differently. an aëroplane is like a kite, but instead of a string to pull it against the air, it has a propeller to push it. it's easy enough to fly a kite, but when you put a man in the kite, and a gas engine and other machinery, and take away the string that connects the kite with the earth, you're confronted with problems that it has taken centuries to solve." "keno!" spoke up mcglory. "and do you mean to say, matt, that those two pieces of cloth have guessed the riddle?" "they'll come pretty close to it," asserted matt. "the thing that bothered, you see, was keeping the centre of wind-pressure coincident with the centre of gravity so the machine wouldn't turn turtle, or----" "help!" fluttered mcglory, throwing up his hands. "a german named lilienthal tried and failed, and so did an englishman named pilcher. it remained for the wright brothers to work out the conundrum. lilienthal and pilcher shifted weights to keep their machine right side up in the air, but the american scientists shift the ends of the wings, or planes. traquair's invention does away with the shifting of weights or planes. look here, joe." matt pulled a diminutive lever affixed to a platform in the middle of the lower plane. the ends of the left-hand wings drew in, and the ends of the right-hand wings simultaneously extended. by pulling the lever the other way, a contrary movement was effected. "sufferin' blockheads!" muttered the cowboy, pushing his fingers desperately through his thick hair. "i'm only in the primer, pard, and you're leading me through the hardest part of the fifth reader. shucks!" "you can understand, can't you," went on matt patiently, "that closing or opening the wings distributes the air pressure on each side of the machine and holds it level?" "never mind me, pard," said mcglory. "keep right on." "these bicycle wheels," and matt indicated three wheels under the aëroplane, "give the machine its start." "it's got to have a running start, eh?" "sure. when a bird begins to take wing it has to have some kind of a start. a small bird jumps into the air, and a big bird, like a condor, has to take a run before its wings take a grip on the atmosphere. it's the same with an aëroplane. a speed of twenty-eight miles an hour is required before the air under the planes will lift the flying machine. the motor of this machine is geared to the bicycle wheels, at the start. when the machine is running fast enough, the power is switched to the propeller--and up we go!" "mebby we do," muttered the cowboy, "but i wouldn't bet on it. then, again, if we go up will we stay up? and how can you guide the blooming thing skyward, or on a level, or come down?" "why," continued matt, "these two little planes in front of the big ones attend to that." he shifted them with a lever to show mcglory how they worked. "this upright rudder behind," he added, "shifts the course to right or left." "i'll take your word for it, matt," said the cowboy. "i've taken a good many slim chances in my life, but you'll never catch me taking a chance on one of those things." "i don't intend to ask you to take any chances, joe," proceeded matt. "all i want you to do is to trail along and attend to the work below while i'm in the air. traquair has invented something here that's scientific and valuable, and i'm sure we can make a winner out of it, and not only help mrs. traquair, but ourselves, as well. that work of ours in madison netted us more than twelve hundred dollars. the question is, do you want to put in two hundred and fifty dollars with me on the chance of raking in seven thousand five hundred up at fort totten?" "you couldn't keep me from takin' that bet with a shotgun," averred the cowboy. "if you're in on the deal, then that means me, too, any old day you find in the almanac. we'll go to fort totten, matt, and while you're paddlin' around in the air i'll hunt up soft places for you to 'light. your head's pretty level on most things, and it's a cinch you must have this business figured out pretty straight, but----" at that moment, a hullaballoo came up from the street. the room occupied by the boys was at the front of the building, and the two windows were open. "sufferin' cats," cried mcglory, starting for one of the windows, "i wonder if that's a fire? ever since we had that close call at the burnin' boathouse on fourth lake, i'm scared of a fire." but it wasn't a fire. a chinese boy was rushing down the street like a whirlwind, his silk blouse and baggy trousers fluttering and snapping in the wind of his flight, and his pigtail standing straight out behind him. back of the chinaman came a bear. the bear was muzzled, and there was a collar about its neck and some six or eight feet of chain rattling around its legs. the bear was going after the chinaman like a brown streak, and a whopping crowd of onlookers was gathering on the sidewalks. "great jump sparks!" cried matt, astounded; "why, it's ping!" "ping it is, pard, and no mistake!" gasped mcglory; "and we left ping in madison, workin' for lorry. how did he get here? and how in sam hill did that bear pick up his trail?" but matt was already out of the room, and halfway down the stairs on a run for the street. chapter v. ping and the bear. ping pong, the chinese boy, had long ago made up his mind that he was going to work for motor matt. he wasn't particular whether he got any pay or not; just so matt gave him enough to do to keep him around. ping had followed matt from san francisco to madison, wisconsin. when matt was ready to leave madison, he got ping a good job. the chinaman seemed a bit depressed, but he thanked matt for the interest shown in his welfare, and seemed reconciled with his lot when he bade him good-by. and now here was ping, dropping into jamestown like lightning from a clear sky. the chinese boy was full of surprises, and his surprises were always dramatic--sometimes tragic. when matt burst from the hotel into the street, ping was hustling for a telegraph pole. the bear was within a couple of lengths of him, and there was nothing for ping to do but to find something he could climb. behind the bear raced a rough-looking man in a buckskin jacket. he was flourishing his arms and yelling, but the roar of the crowd prevented his words from being heard. the people on the sidewalks were enjoying the spectacle immensely. the bear was muzzled, and the chinaman was scared. it did not seem possible that any harm could come to the fleeing celestial. "two to one on the bear!" whooped some one. "it's the chink gits my money!" guffawed some one else. "he's goin' like a limited express train, an' that telegraph pole's too handy." the crowd surged into the street and toward the pole. ping was already climbing, but the pole was slippery, and when he had got up about twelve feet, he lost his "clinch" and slid downward. the bear was standing erect and reaching upward with its front paws. ping slid down just far enough for the paws to reach for him and close on one of his feet. he gave a yell of fear, and once more began frantically climbing. one of his wooden sandals was left behind. the bear dropped it with a sniff, and once more straightened up along the pole. again the slippery surface proved more than ping could manage, and down he came with a rush. the bear got the other sandal before ping could check his sliding, and the crowd went wild with delight. the man in the buckskin coat had come close to the pole, but he made no move to interfere with proceedings. matt was not able to extract much fun from the situation. the bear's claws were sharp, and if they once came in contact with the chinaman's body, the consequences might prove serious. quickly as he could, matt forced himself through the edge of the crowd. "is that your bear?" he demanded of the man in the buckskin coat. "waal," drawled the man, with a scowl, "i reckon it ain't no one else's b'ar." "why don't you chase him away, then?" asked matt indignantly. "do you want him to kill the chinaman?" "it won't be much loss if the critter takes a chunk out o' him. he's only a chink, anyways, an' he desarves all he'll git." this line of reasoning did not appeal to matt. the man was leaning on a heavy club. that club was the only weapon handy, and matt made a grab at it and pulled it out of the man's hands. with his support thus suddenly removed, the man fell flat in the street, striking his head against the stone curb at the edge of the walk. no serious damage was done, and the man got up, swearing luridly. matt gave no further attention to him, but turned toward the bear and ping. the chinaman, tiring with his useless efforts, had started for the third time to slide down the pole. before the bear could use its paws, matt whirled the club and struck the brute a heavy blow on the head. the bear was dazed, and dropped down on all fours, blinking at matt. ping dropped to the foot of the pole, rolled off to one side, bounded erect, and continued his flight down the street. barely had ping got away when matt felt himself grabbed from behind. "i'll l'arn ye ter rough things up with me!" snarled a hoarse voice. then, before matt could make a move to defend himself, he was hurled backward so fiercely that he lost his footing and fell sprawling in the dust. the man, beside himself with rage, caught up the club, which had fallen from matt's hand, and would have attacked the lad with it had mcglory not interfered. while the club was still poised in the air, the cowboy hurled a stone. the missile struck the man's arm, and the uplifted hand fell as though paralyzed. there was now another vent for the man's seething anger. with a furious oath, he pushed his left hand under his buckskin coat, and jerked a revolver from his hip pocket. one of the bystanders caught the weapon away from him. just at that moment a policeman showed himself, stepping briskly between the man and mcglory. "what's the trouble here?" asked the officer. "what are you trying to do, siwash charley?" "i'm er peaceable man," roared siwash charley, "but i ain't a-goin' ter be tromped on!" "who's been tramping on you?" inquired the officer soothingly. "fust off, it was er chink. i was bringin' that tame b'ar inter town fer delivery ter hank bostwick, at the ginmill he runs, an' i sot down ter rest. i was ca'm, an' the b'ar was ca'm, but erlong comes the chink an' sets off a big firecracker he had left over from the fourth, i reckon. anyways, the blasted thing went off like er cannon, an' i was blowed clean over the b'ar. when i got up an' looked around, the b'ar was goin' after the chink, allymand-left an' all sashay. i took arter the b'ar. seein' as how bostwick is goin' ter gi'me twenty-five dollars for the brute, i wasn't wantin' him ter git loose. when i got hyer, that feller"--siwash charley nodded toward matt--"pulled a stick i was kerryin' out from under me. i sailed inter him an' then that other feller"--he indicated mcglory--"let loose with a rock an' purty nigh busted my arm. i ain't goin' ter stand fer no sich doin's--that ain't siwash charley's stripe, not noways." "did the chink throw the firecracker in the first place?" asked the officer. "he must er done it. if he hadn't, the b'ar wouldn't have took arter him. i'll fix that chink if i ever git hands on him; an' i'll fix you fellers, too," he added, scowling at matt and mcglory. "the chinaman was trying to climb the telegraph pole and get away from the bear, officer," spoke up matt, "but every now and then he'd slip down the pole, and the bear would slap at him with his claws. siwash charley, as you call him, stood by and never made a move to interfere. i grabbed the club and struck the bear, and the next thing i knew i was caught from behind and thrown on my back." "i'd 'a' welted you good, too," snarled siwash charley, "if that rock hadn't landed on me." the officer looked around. three men had caught the bear by the chain and were holding the brute warily. the bear seemed to be recovering its good nature, the chinaman had escaped, and little damage had been done. "let the matter drop, charley," said the officer. "you haven't any proof that the chink threw the cannon cracker, or----" "b'ars hes got sense," blustered siwash charley, "an' this un wouldn't hev chased the chink if he wasn't guilty." "well, you go on to bostwick's and let the matter drop. scatter," the officer added sharply to the crowd, "the fun's over with, and there's nothing more to see." matt beckoned to mcglory, and the two started back toward the hotel. a roar from siwash charley caused them to turn their heads. "i'll saw off squar' with ye, yet," shouted siwash charley, shaking his fist. "say moo and chase yourself!" taunted the cowboy. "you're more kinds of a fake and false alarm than i know how to lay tongue to." the officer gave siwash charley a push in the direction of his bear, and matt caught his chum by the arm and drew him into the hotel. annexing himself to the bear by means of the chain, siwash charley shook his head angrily, rubbed his forearm up and down the front of his buckskin coat, and proceeded on toward bostwick's. when he got clear of the crowd, a man stepped out into the street. it was murgatroyd, and there was an ominous gleam in his eyes. "i've got a job for you, siwash," said the broker. "is thar any money in it, murg?" demanded siwash. "it's got ter be spot cash an' good pickin's, er we don't hitch." "you'll get your pay before you begin. come to my office at five o'clock." "i'll be thar," and the ruffian continued on toward bostwick's, still rubbing his aching forearm up and down the front of his greasy buckskin coat. murgatroyd, muttering to himself, faded away into the building known as brown's block. chapter vi. a new venture. "that old persimmon is about ripe enough to be picked," growled mcglory, as he and matt climbed the stairs on their way back to their room. "he's one of those cold game gents that gets quick and deadly every time a fellow looks at him cross-eyed. the next time he and i come together there's going to be fireworks." "the chances are," said matt, "we've seen the last of him. we'll close up our business with mrs. traquair at three o'clock, and then we'll catch the first train for totten. that will finish our dealings with siwash charley, and with murgatroyd, too, i hope. there's a lot of work ahead of us during the next two weeks, and we'll----" matt and mcglory were just turning from the hall into their room. some one had arrived in the room during their absence. as fate would have it, it was ping. the chinaman sat in a rocking-chair near the window. he was nervous and uncomfortable, not so much because of his recent experience with the bear, perhaps, as because he feared the sort of reception he was to receive from motor matt. "well, if it ain't little bright-eyes himself!" grinned mcglory. "you're more kinds of a surprise party, ping, than i know how to describe. what did you set off that cannon cracker under the bear for?" "my no shootee fi'clackel," expostulated ping. "melican boy shootee. beal make one piecee mistake--chasee ping, no chasee melican boy. whoosh! no likee." "where did you come from, ping?" asked matt. "mad'son. my no workee fo' anybody but motol matt. tlakee tlain, come 'long." "you didn't intend to stay in madison any of the time, did you?" ping shook his head. "why didn't you tell me you were not going to stay there?" "plaps, my tellee, you no likee. my makee wait till come to jimtown, then tellee. you no likee, no can send back." a crafty grin worked its way over ping's yellow face. "you can't shake him, pard," laughed mcglory. "how did you know where we were coming?" asked matt. "no savvy the pidgin. come on same tlain." "then you got here on the same train we did?" "sure." "where have you been keeping yourself?" "my stay by othel hotel. bumby, thisee molnin', makee sneak fo' gla'stone house. watchee beal, then fi'clackel makee go bang. china boy lun allee same sam hill. teleglaph pole him heap slick. makee climb, makee slide down, thlee time. beal ketchee one shoe, ketchee othel shoe, mebbyso ketchee china boy neck, sendee top side, but fo' motol matt. whoosh! you heap mad with ping?" "what's the use of getting mad at you, ping?" smiled matt. the little chinaman bounded joyfully out of his chair. "my workee for you some mo'?" he asked. "you seem bound to work for me, whether i've got anything for you to do, or not." "my no havee luck 'less my workee fo' you. plenty queer pidgin. one piecee luck come plenty time when my stay 'lound motol matt; no gettee luck when my no stay. what you do now, huh?" "we're going to hit the clouds on two canvas wings, ping," said mcglory. "no savvy," returned ping. "matt's going to fly. savvy fly? all same bird," and the cowboy flapped the edges of his coat, and lifted himself on one foot. "my no makee good bird," said ping, the white running into the yellow of his face. "my makee fall, bleakee neck." "you'll wish you'd stayed in madison, ping, before you get through with this bag of tricks," went on mcglory, winking at matt. "we're going to let you----" the cowboy was intending to have a little fun with ping, but, at that moment, a boy from the office appeared in the doorway. "mrs. traquair is waiting for you down in the office, motor matt," he announced. "it's three o'clock!" exclaimed matt. "get your two hundred and fifty, joe, and come with me." "i've got it, pard, right in my jeans," answered mcglory. "you can stay here, ping, till we come back," went on matt to the chinaman. "can do," chirped ping. thereupon matt and mcglory went downstairs, and the king of the motor boys introduced his friend to mrs. traquair. the clerk directed them to a lawyer, and they were soon in the lawyer's office, stating their business. mrs. traquair had brought her husband's papers along with her, and also a duplicate of the mortgage on the wells county homestead. the lawyer's name was matthews, and he was no friend of murgatroyd. "murg's a skinner," observed matthews, "everybody in these parts knows him for that. i'll bet he's been planning all along to get his clutches on this invention of your husband's, mrs. traquair. motor matt is doing the handsome thing by you, i must say. he takes all the risk, spends all his time and money, and then gets nothing if the try-out at fort totten isn't a success. just sit down, please. i'll not be more than five minutes drawing up a memorandum of agreement." when the paper had been drawn up, signed, and witnessed, and the money turned over, the only thing that remained was for mrs. traquair to give the boys an order on benner, the post trader at fort totten, for the aëroplane. this second paper having been written out and signed, and the five hundred dollars turned over, matt and mcglory found themselves embarked on a new venture. it was different from anything matt had yet undertaken. driving a dirigible balloon was utterly unlike manoeuvring an aëroplane. in a "dirigible" one had only to sit calmly in the driver's seat, keep the motor going, and attend to the steering. in an aëroplane, on the other hand, there was a certain knack to be acquired. air pressure under the wings was never the same for two consecutive moments, and if the swiftly changing centre of air pressure was not met instantly by extending or contracting the wings, disaster would be sure to result. but matt had studied the subject, felt sure that he could acquire the necessary knack, and was determined to carry the venture through to a success. "you're a plucky young man," said matthews to the king of the motor boys when the business had been finally wound up, "but i want to warn you to look out for murgatroyd. it does me good to hear how you sailed into him, but that was something murg will never forget. as matters are now, you've beaten him, but he'll never let it rest at that. he'll move heaven and earth to get even with you. keep your eyes skinned, that's all. you're engaged in a worthy work, and i believe you'll succeed, but you've got to be wary. i'm going with mrs. traquair to pay this interest. murg won't attempt any bulldozing tactics while i'm around, you can depend on that." "you might see that he doesn't persecute mrs. traquair while we're at fort totten, mr. matthews," said matt. "if he gets his interest, he can't make her any trouble, can he?" "he can't make her any more trouble until next year, when the interest and principal both become due. long before that, i hope mrs. traquair will be able to settle up with murgatroyd in full. she can, too, if your work at totten is successful." "how much do i owe you for drawing up these papers?" matt asked. "not a red!" was the prompt response. "do you think i don't know what you are trying to do for mrs. traquair? and do you think i won't do as much as i can to help her? why, i got harry traquair's patents through for him, and i'm proud to say that he was my friend. he knew murgatroyd was a skinner, just as well as i did, and at the time of his death he was exhausting every effort to fit himself for making a 'go' of that deal at totten. he was planning on using that money to get himself out of murgatroyd's strangling grip. it looks like a special favor of providence, motor matt, that you happened along here just when you did." reference to her husband brought tears into mrs. traquair's eyes. stepping to matt impulsively, she caught one of his hands. "i appreciate what you are doing, motor matt," said she in a low tone, "and i thank you from the bottom of my heart. i know the risks you are running, but somehow i have the utmost confidence that you are going to pass safely through them all, and please the officers at fort totten." matt was touched by the poor woman's gratitude. he pressed her hand cordially and reassuringly. "i've gone into this thing to succeed, mrs. traquair," he answered, "and you may count on me to do my best." "when do you go north?" asked the lawyer. "we can't go before morning. the afternoon passenger has left, and we'll have to take the 'accommodation' at eight o'clock." "well, good-by, and good luck. if i can ever do anything for you here, in a legal way, don't hesitate to call on me." matthews gripped the young motorist's hand heartily, and the little party separated, the lawyer and mrs. traquair starting for murgatroyd's office, while matt and mcglory made their way back to the gladstone house. "little as i know about flyin'," remarked mcglory, "and scary as i am about letting you go up in that aëroplane of traquair's, just the same i feel like patting myself on the back. it's a brand-new venture, pard, but it's a good one. there's something in it, you see, besides just helping ourselves." "it's not going to be easy," remarked matt. "that's you! sure, it ain't going to be easy, hitting up a cloud trail and sliding around through the air in a machine that's----" "i don't mean that," interrupted matt. "during the last hour or so i've had a hunch that murgatroyd is going to get busy." "i'll take care of that old hardshell," declared the cowboy, with confidence, "if you do the rest of the work with that sky-scraper. that's what i'm along for, savvy?" chapter vii. a partner in villainy. murgatroyd's interview with matthews and mrs. traquair, at the time the one hundred and fifty dollars interest was paid, threw the broker into a spasm of chagrin and temper. one would have thought that murgatroyd would have been delighted to get his interest money. but it was not the interest that murgatroyd wanted, so much as financial embarrassment on the part of mrs. traquair, which would ultimately lead to foreclosure of the mortgage on the wells county homestead. to motor matt the broker rightly attributed the widow's ability to pay the interest. and if motor matt had given mrs. traquair the interest money, it was a foregone conclusion that matt had interested himself in the aëroplane at fort totten. matt, the wrathful broker reasoned, was to fly the aëroplane at the forthcoming government trial. if he pleased the government, and the machine was bought, then mrs. traquair would be able to take up the mortgage. murgatroyd paced his office for a long time after matthews and mrs. traquair left. in the midst of his reflections, prebbles thrust his head in at the door. "a caller, sir," he announced. "who is it?" demanded murgatroyd sharply. "siwash charley." a feeling of gratification swept through the broker's nerves. "send him in here. and, i say, prebbles, you can put on your hat and coat and go home. you're quitting an hour earlier than usual, but you can make it up some other day." precious few holidays old prebbles got without "making them up." "very good, sir," he said in his usual humble fashion, and faded into the other room. a moment later siwash charley faced the broker. "shut the door, siwash," said murgatroyd. "that looks like we was a-goin' ter talk over things that was mighty important," said siwash charley as he closed the door. "we are." "you're an ole fox, all right," chuckled the other; "reg'lar ole gouger. money layin' around ev'rywheres," siwash added, his eyes on the desk where the money paid by mrs. traquair had been left. "there's a hundred and fifty in that pile, siwash," said murgatroyd. "if you agree to help me, i'll give you that; and, if you carry out the work successfully, i'm going to give you a hundred and fifty more." siwash charley's eyes opened wide. "must be somethin' mighty tough on ter make ye loosen up like that," said he. "mebby it's so tough i won't dast ter touch it." "i guess it's not too tough for you," returned murgatroyd dryly. "i've done a heap o' things fer you, murg, as won't bear the searchin' light o' day," observed siwash charley. "from now on, though, i'm a-goin' ter be a leetle keerful." "if you don't want the job," rapped out the broker, "say so, and i'll get somebody else." "how kin i tell whether i want it or not till ye explain what the work is?" "i'll not go into details until you agree to take hold. i'd be in a nice fix, wouldn't i, if i told you what was up, and then had you back out on the proposition." "ye'll have ter tell me somethin' about it, that's shore." "i'll tell you this much, siwash, and that is that the two young fellows you mixed up with, when the bear treed the chinaman, are the ones you'll have to go after. that ought to be enough, hadn't it?" charley's eyes kindled viciously. "i'm arter them two," he growled. "of course you are," went on the broker, noting with satisfaction the effect his words had had on his caller. "you're pretty well acquainted up around devil's lake, aren't you?" "i spent a good many years thar, murg." "do you know benner, the post trader?" "him an' me uster be blanket mates." "well, this young fellow who roughed things up with you, is called motor matt." "that's his name, hey? i'm going ter saw off squar' with this motor matt. revenge is the sort o' por'us plaster i put on my grudges ter draw out the pizen. i'm wuss ner a rattler's bite when i land on a feller, murg." "there's a flying machine in the post trader's store at fort totten. traquair sent it up there for a government trial, two weeks from to-day." "i see." "this motor matt knows something about gas engines and flying machines, and i'm pretty sure he's going to totten on the train to-morrow morning to familiarize himself with the traquair flying machine, and try it out for the government when the time comes." "then i kin lay fer him around totten, hey?" "not alone, siwash." the burly ruffian gave a grunt of disgust. "think i kain't handle that outfit alone, murg? oh, thunder! why, them two fellers ain't much more'n kids. i kin pick 'em up, one in each hand, an' knock their heads tergether." "don't be overconfident, siwash. if you are, it'll lose the game for us. you ought to have two more men associated with you--fellows you can depend on. you can either get them at totten, or here in jimtown." "who'll pay 'em?" asked siwash cautiously. "i'll give them twenty-five dollars each, if the work succeeds." "that brings us down ter the work ag'in," said siwash. "what is it, murg?" "well, i don't want the flying machine tried out for the benefit of the government. i want something to happen so that this motor matt won't be able to give a demonstration of what the aëroplane can do." "got er axe ter grind, hey?" "that part of the game is my business, siwash, not yours," said the broker sharply. "the point is, do you want to follow out my plans, and make the money i'm offering you?" "i'm hungry fer money, all right, murg," ruminated siwash. "i jest sold that pet b'ar ter bostwick fer twenty-five--b'ar that i captered as a cub an' fetched up by hand. but twenty-five won't last me fer long. if i kin git three hundred off'n you it'll be quite a boost. still, fer all that, i'd about made up my mind ter be honest from now on, an' cut out these hyer crooked deals. the way ye come at me, though, kinder sets me ter calculatin' that i'll go inter pardnership with ye fer one more round, an' then start ter bein' honest arter that." siwash charley pushed up the right sleeve of his buckskin coat, unwrapped a reddened bandage, and exhibited a ragged wound. "this hyer's what makes me listen ter ye, murg," he gritted. "it ain't the three hundred dollars so much as this hyer arm. that's whar the young cub landed on me with the stone. i kain't never pass that up without sawin' off squar'." "of course you can't," declared murgatroyd, doing everything in his power to foster siwash charley's hard feelings, "it wouldn't be like you to forget a thing like that, siwash. i guess you haven't weakened to that extent." siwash charley swore under his breath, replaced the bandage, and pulled down the sleeve of his coat. "will you help me?" went on the broker. "i've got to have your promise, before i can tell you the plan i've thought out." "yes, i'll help you," answered the ruffian. "and you know of two trustworthy men you can get to go with you?" "i could pick up a dozen game fellers right here in this man's town all inside o' fifteen minutes. they're fellers, mind ye, who'd run the risk o' puttin' their necks in a noose fer twenty-five plunks." "those are the men we want. you're not to tell them anything about me, mind." "that's allers yer game, murg," and something like discontent pulsed in siwash charley's hoarse voice; "ye don't seem ter hev the sand ter stand up an' face the music." "i can't afford to. how long do you think my loan business would last if i was found out in a job like this? you've got to screen me, siwash." "i'll promise ter do that, an' i ain't goin' ter let no one find out that i'm mixed up in it, either, if i kin help. go ahead." the broker got up, and moved softly to the door. opening it quickly he peered into the outer office. apparently satisfied, he closed the door again, and returned to his chair. "walls have ears," he remarked with a grim smile. "draw your chair closer, siwash." the other, with another of his ill-omened chuckles, pulled his seat nearer to murgatroyd; then, for five minutes, siwash listened while the broker spoke in low, quick tones. when murgatroyd was done, siwash leaned back with an exultant expression on his face. "by jericho," he exclaimed, "we kin do it, murg! thar'll be no flyin' at the fort two weeks from terday. this motor matt kain't git ter totten afore termorrer. if ye'll start me an' them other two fellers in a ottermobill, an' land us at totten afore mornin', i'll agree ter take keer o' the flyin' machine. if i kain't do that, then i'll agree ter take keer o' motor matt. count on me, murg." "enough said, then," answered murgatroyd, getting up. "take your money, siwash, and get out of here. it won't do for us to be seen leaving brown block together. you go out first, and i'll follow, a little later. the automobile will be at the place i told you within an hour, and a trusty man will be along to drive it." two minutes later, siwash charley swaggered out of the entrance to the office building and slouched off toward a "shady" part of the town. five minutes after siwash left, murgatroyd emerged. the broker was hardly out of sight, before prebbles glided out of the brown block, his face puckered with fear and apprehension. but there was resolution in the clerk's face, too, and he made his way in the direction of the gladstone house. chapter viii. matt shifts his plans. matt, mcglory, and ping had their supper together. following supper, ping went back to the other hotel where he had been staying, for the purpose of getting his luggage. the luggage was not extensive, being completely wrapped in a yellow silk handkerchief, knotted at the corners. there was a pair of grass sandals in the handkerchief bundle, and the chinaman stood in need of new footgear. when ping had gone, matt and mcglory sat out in front of the hotel, waiting for early bedtime to roll around. while they sat there, a stoop-shouldered, wizened figure shambled along the walk. "prebbles!" exclaimed matt. "not so loud," croaked prebbles. "come along--drop in behind--don't let anybody notice." matt was surprised. "who's that?" queried mcglory. "a clerk in murgatroyd's office," whispered matt, getting up. "look out for him, then, for he may be----" "he's all right," cut in matt. "come along, joe. prebbles has something on his mind." deferring to matt's better judgment, mcglory arose, and he and matt followed prebbles around one corner of the hotel, and into the dusky regions that lay in the vicinity of the rear of the building. here, in a place where they could talk unheard by outsiders, prebbles halted. "what's the matter, prebbles?" queried matt, as he and mcglory drew close. "who's that with you?" asked prebbles guardedly. "a friend of mine." "is he the one that hit siwash charley with the stone?" "yes." "all right, then. i got to be careful. if i'm not, murg'll find out about this and pull the pin on me. i get eight dollars a week workin' for him, and i can't afford to lose it. eight dollars a week pays my board, takes care of my laundry bills, buys a _war cry_, and gives a little to the army every week. you boys belong?" "belong to what, prebbles?" asked matt. "to the salvation army," answered prebbles earnestly. "no," answered matt. "i do. soon's i leave here, and get my supper, i'm going to the barracks, get into my uniform, take my tambourine and march with the rest. i was converted two weeks ago. that's why i hate murgatroyd and his ways. he's a robber. i want to do right, and that's why i'm here." "what do you work for the old skinflint for, if you want to do right?" put in mcglory. "there's nothing wrong with tainted money," replied prebbles, "if you use it in the right way." "i shouldn't think your employer would like to have you in the army," said matt. "he likes it. you see, he thinks it gives the office a standing which it hasn't got, me being connected with the army. but little he knows what i'm doing on the side. it's because i belong, motor matt, that i spoke to you as i did when you left the office this forenoon; it's because of that, too, that i suspected something was up when siwash charley came into the office at close to five o'clock and murg told me to take my hat and coat and go home; and it's because of that that i'm here, now, to give you a warning." mcglory gave vent to a low whistle. "looks like siwash and murg were stackin' up against us, pard," said he. "does siwash charley know murgatroyd?" inquired matt. "well, i should say," breathed prebbles. "siwash is a hard citizen, and used to live by gambling, stealing, and other ways that the law wouldn't sanction if he was found out. he's a hard case, siwash is--most as hard a case as murg. i didn't leave the office when i was told to go. i put on my hat and coat, walked real heavy to the door, slammed it, and then slipped back to a curtain that hides a lot of old letter files. back of the curtain there's a stovepipe hole from the outside room into murg's. i climbed up on the letter files and listened at that hole. wouldn't have done it if i didn't belong. say," and prebbles straightened himself with feeble pride, "it makes a regular lion of a man to join the army. you ought to be in; you don't know what you're missin'." "the army's a good thing, prebbles," said matt, "and i'm glad you belong to it. siwash and murgatroyd talked about me?" "did they?" echoed prebbles. "well, they didn't talk about anything else. you see, murg has got a mortgage on the traquair homestead, up in wells county, and he wants to get the quarter section on the mortgage. i don't know why, but he's set, and determined to foreclose and annex the land. that's what he's workin' for. everything was coming his way, motor matt, till you blew in and befriended mrs. traquair. now murg's afraid you'll win that government money and fix things so'st mrs. traquair can pay off the mortgage. murg's goin' to fight you, and he's rung in siwash and two of siwash's friends to help him." "speak to me about this!" murmured mcglory. "that hunch of yours, matt, is panning out good color already." "how is he going to fight us, prebbles?" asked matt. "by fixing things so'st you can't exhibit the flying machine at the time set. if it ain't exhibited then, the government'll back out. in case siwash and his pals can't spoil the machine, then their orders are to eliminate motor matt. oh, it's a villainous scheme, i tell you that." "i guess we can take care of ourselves, prebbles," averred matt. "the first train for totten leaves in the morning, and we're going up on that. siwash and his pals can't get there ahead of us, and we'll be able to look after the aëroplane and see that nothing goes wrong with it." "that's where you're lame," fluttered prebbles. "siwash and his pals have already started for totten." "started!" exclaimed matt. "how?" "automobile. that gang of scoundrels will get to totten in time to carry out murg's villainous plans to-night. i've wasted an hour tellin' you this, waitin' for you to get through supper. you see, i couldn't walk into the hotel and talk to you; everybody would have seen me, and told murg about it. then murg would have pulled the pin on me." "what are siwash and his friends going to do at totten?" queried matt, more wrought up over the information of prebbles than he cared to admit. "i don't know that, motor matt. when they talked over that part of it, they dropped their voices so low i couldn't hear. but you can bet it's a slick scheme, if murg had anything to do with it." "sufferin' slow freights!" murmured mcglory. "it looks as though murg had knocked us out of the running right at the start off." "prebbles," said matt, "do you know of any one, here in town, who has a good automobile we could hire?" "well, there's a fellow named black, a real estate man, who has a car. in spite of his name, he's as white a man as you'll find in a month of sundays. real estate's kinder dull, just now, and i know he sometimes lets out his car." "where does he live?" "i pass his place on the way to my boarding house. if you want, i'll have him come around and see you." "there's not much time to lose, prebbles, as siwash and his pals are already on the road. call me up on the phone and let me know if he'll take us to fort totten to-night. if he will, have him hustle his car right around to the hotel." "he'll ask a heap of money for the trip," suggested prebbles. "how much are you willing to----" "tell him we'll give him fifty dollars if he'll get us to fort totten before morning." "that'll fetch him! i guess i better start right off. you won't tell anybody about me giving murg away to you? i don't want to have murg pull the pin, you understand." "certainly we won't tell anybody!" answered matt. "we're obliged to you, prebbles, and here's a five-dollar bill to pay you for your trouble." prebbles drew back from the money. "you can't make me take that," he declared. "murg's the only robber in the loan office. i'd be as bad as him if i took the money. i'm doing this because i want to be square. they'd kick me out of the army if i took money for doin' what's right." "take this," insisted matt, "and give it to the mission. you can do that, can't you?" "sure." prebbles pocketed the money. "i'm off, now," he went on, starting away. "i hope you won't have more trouble than you can take care of, but you've got a hard gang against you. good-by." "so long, prebbles." the clerk vanished, and matt and mcglory, their nerves tingling with the prospect ahead of them, went back into the hotel, and took chairs near the telephone booth. mr. black himself called up, fifteen minutes later. he was willing to take the boys to fort totten that night, for the sum of fifty dollars; his machine was ready, and he'd be at the hotel in five minutes. "bully!" exulted mcglory, when matt came out of the booth and reported what the real estate man had said. "say, pard," the cowboy added, "you're throwin' your money around like a nabob. at this rate, how long'll that stake last that you picked up in madison?" "till we pull down that government money on account of the aëroplane, joe," returned matt decisively. "you're banking on that?" "to the last cent. i'll soon be on the wing, joe, and making a fight for fame and fortune. that's got to be a winning fight, in spite of siwash charley and his pals, and in spite of murgatroyd." matt's quiet confidence always inspired confidence in others. "whoop!" jubilated mcglory. "you've got a cheery way about you, pard, that's as catchin' as the measles. sure we'll win; and we'll save the old homestead for mrs. traquair like the feller in the play." chapter ix. dodging trouble. the wagon road from jamestown to devil's lake follows the railroad all the way. at minnewaukon, near the western end of the lake, the wagon road to fort totten leaves the iron rails and points southeast. the trail from jamestown to minnewaukon crosses a prairie almost as level as a floor, and the trail itself is like asphalt. from minnewaukon southeast, the road is not so well traveled. formerly the mail was hauled from minnewaukon to the post by wagon, but the mail carrier was put out of business by a launch that crossed the lake from devil's lake city, on the north shore. the garrison at the fort, too, has dwindled to a corporal's guard, so that the post has become practically abandoned. black's car was not a late model. it had the obsolete rear-entrance tonneau, and was equipped with a four-cylinder thirty-horse-power motor. however, the car could "go." it would have been a poor car, indeed, which could not show its heels on such a road. it was eight o'clock when matt, mcglory, ping, and black ducked out of jimtown, and struck into the trail that followed the railroad track and the river. black attended to the driving, and matt occupied the seat at his side. mcglory and ping occupied the tonneau. matt explained to black that there was a car, somewhere ahead, which they wanted to beat to the post trader's store at fort totten; also, that the car ahead was filled with men who were not on friendly terms with matt and his companions. black was a man of spirit. "you want to pass that car, then," said he, "and you want to dodge trouble?" "exactly," agreed matt. "we don't want to butt into any trouble if we can help it. a whole lot depends upon our getting to the post trader's store right side up with care, and ahead of the other outfit." "we'll do what we can," and black nursed the car to its best speed. the night was cool, the sky was cloudless, and the two acetylene lamps burned holes in the dark far in advance of the car as it devoured the miles. the forward rush, and the motor's music, thrilled matt as they always did whenever he was connected with a speeding engine. they whipped through a little town, hardly glimpsing the scattered lights before they had left them astern. "this machine is a back number," remarked black, "but she can slide along pretty well, for all that." "you're right," said matt. "i never saw a car with a rear door that could hold a candle to this one. but the road helps. it's like a boulevard." "take these dakota roads, when they're neither too wet nor too dry, and they're hard to beat. we're going to lose time, though, going around the sloughs." "sloughs?" queried matt. "just bog holes," went on black. "they gully the prairie, here and there, have no inlet or outlet, and the water rises and falls in 'em like tides of the ocean. queer, and i don't think the rise and fall have ever been explained. a wagon with high wheels can spraddle through, but low wheels and a lot of weight have to go round. but the car ahead will have to go around, too. there's one of the sloughs, just ahead. we'll begin going around it right here." having been for several years in the real estate business, selling farms up and down the jim river, black had an accurate knowledge of the country. three extra miles were added to the journey by going around the slough north of parkhurst. but this was a whole lot better than taking a chance and miring down. "did you know harry traquair, mr. black?" matt asked, when they were once more in the road and forging ahead. "i did," answered black, "and he was one of the finest fellows you ever met. still, for all that, i thought he was a little bit 'cracked' on the flying-machine question. he was always of an inventive turn, and he built his first aëroplane in his head, up on his farm in wells county, long before he ever came to jimtown and built one of canvas, and spruce, and wire guys. the traquairs have had pretty hard sledding for the last three years. mrs. traquair had all the faith in the world in her husband, but she was possessed with the idea that some accident was going to happen to him, and she was never around when he flew the aëroplane. too bad harry traquair had to be killed just as he was about to give his machine the first government test." "that's the way luck runs, sometimes," said matt. "what town's that?" he added, as they whisked through another cluster of lights. "buchanan," answered black. "say, but we're coming! the next place is pingree, then edmunds, then melville. after melville we'll swoop into carrington, the biggest town between jamestown and the lake. here's where i'm going to hit 'er up for the last ounce of power in her cylinders. hold on to your teeth, everybody!" more gasoline and a faster spark hurled the car onward in a way that made ping chatter and hang to the rail behind the front seats. then something went wrong. the motor began to miss fire, the speed slackened, and the motor died with a gasping splutter. "oh, hang the luck!" growled black, getting down. while matt kept hands off, black tried out the primary circuit, then the secondary, then the buzzer. after that he cranked and cranked, but nothing happened except a distressing cough when the engine tried to start. "wouldn't that knock you slabsided?" growled black. "i guess i'll have to take the carburetor to pieces, run pins through the spray nozzle and sandpaper the float guides. if that don't work, i'll go under the car and take off the fuel pipe, and----" "it's a gravity feed, isn't it?" asked matt. "yes." "well, don't lose any time on the carburetor, just yet." matt got at the gasoline tank. what he did black couldn't see, but he wasn't more than a minute doing it. "now turn over your engine," said matt, as he climbed back into his seat. black gave the crank a pull, and the pleasant chug in the explosion chamber came to his ears. "what the dickens did you do?" he asked, dropping in behind the steering wheel and getting the car under way. "the tank vent was clogged," explained matt. "you can't feed by gravity if the gasoline tank is hermetically sealed." "that's right; but how did you know the vent was plugged?" "by the noise." black turned this over in his mind as they rushed onward. "i guess you know a thing or two about motors," he remarked. "i never heard of a fellow who could tell the tank was hermetically sealed merely by the noise of the engine." "it takes practice," said matt, "that's all." pingree, edmunds, and melville were passed in record time, and the car rushed into carrington at a quarter to ten. carrington was quite a town, and the party halted to make some inquiries about the car that was preceding them. from a man at one of the hotels they learned that a car had stopped at a filling station, about nine o'clock, and had dashed on to the northward about nine-fifteen. there were four men in the car, and one of them was siwash charley. siwash charley seemed to be well known through that section, and the fact that the man at the hotel knew him made matt and his friends certain that their enemies were less than an hour ahead. "we're gaining on 'em!" cried mcglory, as the car shot through the outskirts of carrington. "if we can keep on gaining, we'll reach the post trader's with ground to spare." "we're good for it," averred black. "hold onto your hair and eyebrows." the air fairly sang in the ears of the boys as the real estate man, throwing himself spiritedly into the contest, hurled his machine onward over the hard roadbed. they flashed through a couple of towns which, black said, were divide and sheyenne. "the next place," the real estate man went on, "is oberon. after that comes lallie, and then minnewaukon. but it's a waste of time to go to minnewaukon. if we went there, we'd have to come southeast to totten. we can leave the road at lallie and go northeast to totten, thus saving a few miles and considerable time. if----" he broke off with a startled exclamation. then, in a twinkling, it was out clutch, down brake, and a kick at the switch. another car, at a dead stop in the road ahead, had come like a blot under the glow of their lamps. at that point the prairie was level, and no such thing as fences were to be seen. "sufferin' hold-ups!" exclaimed mcglory. "something's gone wrong with the siwash outfit. look! two of the gang are plugging this way." the cowboy had "called the turn." two dark forms untangled themselves from the dusky blot in the road which represented the car, and were running back along the trail. as the figures came closer, it could be seen that they were carrying rifles. "quick!" hissed matt in black's ear. "go around the car--take to the prairie. we can make it if there's gas enough in the cylinders to take the spark." as luck would have it, the engine took the spark and black worked the car rapidly out of the road, heading so as to give the other car a wide berth. the dry grass crunched under the swiftly moving tires, and the car leaped away as black coaxed her to do her best. "halt!" shouted a husky voice; "halt, or we'll put a bullet into you!" "drop down!" ordered matt; "they're going to shoot." "let 'em shoot," said black pluckily. "it's pretty dark for accurate firing, and we'll be out of range in a minute. i----" sping! sping! two reports came from behind, two flashes leaped from the guns, and two bullets fanned the air close to the occupants of the car. but the car dashed on over the rolling turf, and presently regained the road, once more, well in advance of the other automobile. "i guess that's dodging trouble, all right!" muttered black, with a grim laugh. chapter x. blanked. only two shots were fired. before the two scoundrels in the road could send any more bullets after matt and his friends, their car had swept back into the road and the other automobile acted as a barricade. "siwash must have known who we were," remarked mcglory. "how do you reckon he found that out?" "the way we kept on going when he ordered us to halt was enough for him," said matt. "i'll bet it was a surprise," chuckled mcglory. "wish i could be close to murg when he hears about it. we're in the lead, now, and i hope we can keep it." "if the motor hangs together," returned black, "we'll not only keep it, but increase it. that's a murderous gang, back there," he added. "there must be something mighty important awaiting you fellows at the post trader's to cause siwash charley to break loose like that!" "murgatroyd is back of it," said matt. "murgatroyd? there's a double-dyed scoundrel, if i ever knew one." black's expressing himself in this manner opened the way for matt to tell him the true inwardness of that night's work. "you're the sort of fellows i like to help!" cried black, as soon as matt had placed the situation before him. "it's a fine thing for mrs. traquair, and it speaks mighty well for you that you've jumped into this thing like you've done. not many young fellows would have gone to all that trouble, with the prospect of a broken neck, or a bullet between the ribs as a possible reward. but let me tell you something, motor matt." black spoke very earnestly, and commanded the instant attention of the king of the motor boys. "what's that, mr. black?" "if i were you, i'd be more afraid of that aëroplane than of siwash charley or murgatroyd." "flying the aëroplane is the least of my worries. i'm sure i can handle it all right." "don't be too sure. traquair invented the machine, and it stands to reason that he knew it as well as any human being could; but see what happened! something snapped, a gust of wind hit the aëroplane, and the whole business came down like a piece of lead." "accidents are always liable to happen, of course," said matt; "the only thing to do is to guard against them as well as you can, and do your best." "this north dakota wind is a hard thing to figure on," pursued black. "it gathers terrific force coming across the prairies, and it's liable to come up quick. i don't think traquair's aëroplane could stand a sixty-mile-an-hour wind." "she couldn't make any headway against it, but i believe she could be kept upright." "that's your look out, motor matt, and i don't want to throw any wet blanket on your hopes. be careful, that's all, and----" black broke off with an angry exclamation. the motor began to miss fire, and finally came to a stop. matt, his head inclined, had been listening sharply. "what's the matter now?" asked black, getting out. "it's the carburetor, now," said matt. "sounds to me as though it was clogged." the carburetor was taken apart and freed of the obstruction that kept the gasoline out of the mixing chamber. a delay of half an hour was caused, and while they were at a halt an anxious look out was kept along the road, behind. much to the relief of the boys and the real estate man, the other car failed to put in an appearance. "they must be hung up with something serious," observed black, as he once more started the car in the direction of lallie. "it can't be too serious to suit me," laughed mcglory. "i won't make any kick if they're kept back there on the road for a week." "no such luck as that, joe," said matt. black was about to say something more when the motor went wrong again. it began to pound furiously. black's exasperation reached a point where he was tempted to say things. matt, however, laughed at his impatience, and proceeded to right the trouble, warning his friends to keep a sharp look along the back track while he was doing it. there was an hour's delay, this time, but still the other car did not show up, and matt and his companions finally continued on their way, congratulating themselves that they were still in the lead. not much time was spent in lallie. the town was dark, and all the inhabitants had undoubtedly been abed and asleep for several hours. matt looked at his watch just as they were bumping over the railroad tracks into the northeast road that led to totten. "two o'clock," announced matt. black groaned. "elegant time we're making," said he, "but we'll be at the post trader's by three o'clock, providing we don't have any more breakdowns." this road was not nearly so good as the one they had been following, mainly because it was not so well traveled. not more than fifteen miles an hour could be made. "there's another road to totten from oberon," observed black. "that road comes into this one about five miles this side of totten. we'll soon be at the forks, now. i didn't suggest taking the oberon road, because it's a good deal worse than the one we're following." when they were close to the forks, the creak of a wagon reached their ears, and the gas lamps showed them a loaded vehicle just pulling into the oberon road. this was the first team they had met since leaving jamestown. "say, there!" yelled a man on the wagon. "slow up a little with that chug cart o' yourn, will ye? my hosses ain't used ter sich sights." black lessened the speed and came on more slowly. the wagon was at a standstill, and the horses were snorting and rearing against the pole. the car got past without causing an accident, however, and, a little after three, drew up in front of the post trader's store. the store was at the foot of a hill which overlooked the lake, and was surrounded by the fort. as was to be expected, the store was dark, and seemed deserted. "benner lives in the back part," said black. "go around the side of the building, matt, and knock on the door. you'll not be long getting him up. i'll wait here till i see what luck you have, and then i'll put up the car and bunk down somewhere for the rest of the night." matt and mcglory jumped out of their seats and followed around the plank wall of the building. although it was dark as egypt in the shadow of the wall, yet they succeeded in locating the door, and pounded a loud summons on its panels. the post trader was a sound sleeper, and it took three or four minutes to develop any signs of life within the dark store building. at last, however, they could hear some one stirring around. a light appeared in a window, and a shuffling step was heard approaching the door. "if you're injuns," cried an angry voice, "get out! you can come after what you want in the mornin'." "we're not indians," said matt. "are you mr. benner?" "that's my name, yes." "then we've got important business with you. please open the door." "beats all a feller can't have no sleep," grumbled mr. benner, shoving a bolt and jerking the door open. a big, sandy-haired man, in undershirt and trousers, stood confronting the boys, a flickering candle upheld in his right hand. "what d'ye want?" demanded benner. "here's a paper i want you to read," answered matt, taking from his pocket mrs. traquair's order for the aëroplane, and handing it to the post trader. benner grabbed the paper in his left hand, and held the candle in front of it. "jumpin' mariar!" he gasped. "here's an order for that bloomin' flyin' machine." "yes. we're here to take charge of it, mr. benner." "oh, y' are, eh? well, i haven't got it. looks kinder suspicious, too, this here order does." "haven't got it?" repeated matt, staring at mcglory. "ain't i tellin' ye?" answered benner in an irritated tone. "did some men come here in an automobile, a little while ago, and take it away?" "any one would have played hob takin' that flyin' machine away in an automobile," scowled benner. "there's somethin' mighty queer about this. step inside, you two, an' i'll show you that telegram." intensely disappointed, the two boys stepped into the room. benner placed the candle on the table, and picked up a yellow sheet, which he handed to matt. "that come to the fort, about two hours ago, an' the leftenant sent it down ter me," explained benner. "i had to hustle some, but i worked through the trick. now, less'n an hour after i get to bed, here you fellers come askin' for the flyin' machine. that's more'n i kin understand, that is." the telegram read as follows: "send flying machine on the jump to oberon. get it off within an hour after you receive this. will settle for your trouble with the man who brings it." this message was addressed to the post trader, at fort totten; had been sent from oberon, and was signed by "mrs. traquair." "oh, sufferin' dummies!" cried mcglory. "blanked, or i'm a piute!" matt was fully as much wrought up as was his chum. "this message is a forgery, mr. benner!" he cried. "mrs. traquair isn't in oberon, and she never sent it." "how was i ter know that?" snorted the post trader. "soon's i got the message, i routed out my man, jake, an' we hitched up to the wagon, loaded on that consarned machine that i've been holdin here, an' jake started with it fer oberon." the cowboy gave a groan, and fell over against the wall. "that must have been him we passed, matt," he murmured. without pausing to reply, matt whirled and ran out of the room. the aëroplane was on the road to oberon, but the automobile could easily overtake the wagon. it was well, however, not to lose any time. chapter xi. siwash shows his teeth--and his heels. black's astonishment was great when motor matt reappeared at the front of the building and leaped into the car. "hustle for the oberon road, mr. black!" matt cried. "what's to pay?" asked black as mcglory flung himself into the tonneau. "you remember that wagon we passed?" asked matt. "of course, but----" "well, the aëroplane is aboard the wagon." "great cæsar!" black was already on the ground, cranking up. "how did that happen?" he asked, getting back into the car and turning it the other way. when they were well started, matt explained about the telegram received by the post trader. "it's easy to understand what happened," said matt. "murgatroyd's plan was to send siwash charley here after the aëroplane. if siwash had had all night and part of to-morrow to work in, he and his pals would have got away with the flying machine in spite of us. but siwash had to make another move when he saw us on the road. it was a clever move, too, although it only won out by a scratch. siwash went on to oberon and sent that message, signing mrs. traquair's name to it. if we hadn't had so many breakdowns, we'd have reached the post trader's before his man got away with the aëroplane." "well," declared black, "we can overhaul the wagon long before it gets to oberon. if siwash charley had used his head a little more, he'd have known there wasn't one chance in ten of this move of his succeeding. "and to think of us sailin' right past that wagon," muttered mcglory, "and even slowing up so as not to scare the horses! funny how things will turn out sometimes." the chinese boy had been using his eyes and ears a great deal more than his tongue. but his emotions, at every stage of that ride from jamestown, had changed with matt's and mcglory's. now ping was all chagrin, and a wild desire to "push on the reins" and overhaul jake. the road was fairly good until the automobile reached the forks; after that, it ran into hilly country where there was considerable sand. black forced the car all he could, but the poor speed it developed filled the impatient boys with dismay and anxiety. "we'll never overtake that wagon in a thousand years, at this gait," fumed mcglory. "you forget, joe," answered matt, "that if we're going slow, the wagon is going a lot slower." "that's the talk," said black. "we'll come up with the wagon several miles this side of oberon." as the car ground through the sand, and chugged up the hills, the boys kept a sharp watch ahead. dawn brightened in the east, and the gray streamers crept steadily toward the zenith. "five o'clock," said matt, looking at his watch. "the sun will be up in half an hour." "precious little i care for that," chuckled black. "there's jake!" the car had topped a hill which gave its passengers a long view out over the level prairie. far away in the distance the dim gray light showed the boys a dark blot on the plain. it was impossible to tell much about the blot, at that range, but there could be no doubt concerning it. surely it was the wagon; it could be nothing else. "jake must have punctured a tire," observed mcglory humorously. "what has he stopped for?" "possibly he stopped to breathe his horses," suggested black. "we'll eat up the ground, now, for the road is on the level, and there's less sand." black let the car out. as he and the boys came closer and closer, a startling scene slowly unfolded before their eyes. the wagon was at a standstill, just as the cowboy had said, and beside it was a motor car. four or five figures could be seen moving around in the vicinity of the wagon. abruptly these figures hunched together, and stood quietly. "it's the other automobile," said black between his teeth. "siwash charley and his pals came out from oberon to meet jake." "they've got together and are looking this way," breathed mcglory. "mebbyso they makee shoot," chattered ping. "shall we go on?" queried black. "it's for you to say, motor matt. i don't think siwash will dare rough things up so close to the fort, and in broad day." "yes," said matt grimly, "we've got to go on. for all we know, murgatroyd may have told siwash to destroy the aëroplane. in fact, that may be what he's doing, now. go on, mr. black, and go with a rush." the boys fell silent as the car bounded on along the road. all of them felt the danger of their position, but neither mcglory, black, nor ping would have thought of asking matt to turn back. in a few moments the boys were so close they could see the guns which siwash charley and his friends were holding in their hands. matt, however, had more concern for the bulky load in the wagon than for the guns. so far as he could see, the load was intact, and had not been tampered with. the wagon was facing toward oberon, and the car--drawn up alongside the wagon--was pointed toward fort totten. several yards in front of the car stood siwash charley, and two other men, who looked fully as villainous. all of these three had rifles. jake was standing up in the front part of the wagon, hanging to the reins with one hand and looking back. the driver of the automobile was leaning against the front of the car, watching passively for what was to come. an atmosphere of ugly foreboding hovered over the scene as black stopped his car within a dozen yards of siwash charley and his two pals. "that's erbout as fur as we reckoned we'd let ye come," shouted siwash charley. "if ye'd got hyer ten minutes later, ye'd hev found the flyin' machine scattered all over the perary." "do you mean to say," cried matt, standing up in the car, "that you were going to wreck the aëroplane?" "that's what," answered siwash charley, "an' we're goin' ter do it, yet. ye needn't think that yer comin' will make any diff'rence. i told you cubs i'd git even with ye fer what ye done, but when i showed my teeth ye didn't allow i'd bite. i'm showin' my fangs ag'in, an' this time thar's goin' ter be somethin' doin'." "siwash charley," said matt, "you don't mean to say that a trifling disagreement, like the one we had in jamestown, is enough to make you destroy that aëroplane?" "i reckon ye don't know me, motor matt," blustered siwash. "i allers make it a p'int ter saw off even, an' i reckon i kin squar' my account with you a heap better by bustin' up the flyin' machine than in any other way. i'll give ye two minutes ter turn that thar machine o' yourn and take the back track." simultaneously with the words, siwash lifted his rifle to his shoulder, and pointed it directly at matt. the king of the motor boys did not stir, but his gray eyes snapped dangerously as they looked into the eyes gleaming along the barrel of the gun. "you're not going to do any more shooting, siwash charley," said matt, his voice steady. "you took two shots at us last night, and if either one of them had struck me, or any of my friends, you and murgatroyd would have paid dearly for it." the mention of murgatroyd caused siwash to drop his gun suddenly. "murgatroyd hasn't got a thing ter do with this," he roared. "it's my own affair i'm settlin'." "murgatroyd has got everything to do with this!" retorted matt. "he got that car for you, and sent you out of jamestown last night. you hoped to reach the fort ahead of us--and you'd certainly have done so if we'd waited until this morning and taken the train. if you make any trouble for me here, murgatroyd will be arrested in jamestown just as quick as a message can be wired to the police. and you'll make trouble for yourself, too, for you played a trick in getting that aëroplane off the government reservation. you can show your teeth as much as you please, but if you try to bite you'll regret it." "i'm done chinnin' with you!" whopped siwash charley, once more bringing his gun to his shoulder. "turn that ottermobill t'other way, an' hike out o' this. ye got a minute left." black got out of the machine, and walked around to the crank. "leave the crank alone, black," ordered matt. "that scoundrel's a coward, and he doesn't dare to shoot." black hesitated. "better do as he says, pard," observed mcglory, climbing over the back of the seat and ranging himself shoulder to shoulder with matt. the cowboy's words were addressed to black. the latter retreated from the front of the machine, and stood at the roadside, watching developments anxiously. it was a situation of the gravest peril, but matt could not go away and leave the aëroplane to be wrecked. "are ye goin'?" yelled siwash furiously. "if ye think i dasn't shoot, i'll show ye i ain't afeared o' nothin'." "put down that gun!" ordered matt. the scoundrel's finger flexed on the trigger. in another instant the trigger would have been pressed. but something happened. jake, standing in the front of the wagon, whirled a long blacksnake whip about his head by the lash. suddenly he let it go, and the weighted handle shot through the air, and struck siwash charley's fated right arm. the end of the whip handle landed at about the place where mcglory's missile had struck, the day before. with a swirling bellow of pain, siwash dropped the rifle and staggered back, clasping his right forearm with his left hand. he swore terribly, but the torrent of profanity was cut short by one of his pals. "sojers!" cried the man, sweeping siwash charley's gun off the ground. "hustle out o' this, or we're done fer!" "swatties!" jubilated mcglory, waving his hat. "speak to me about this!" matt faced the other way. there, sure enough, were half a dozen mounted troopers galloping toward the scene. the pop of the other car's motor could be heard, and when matt looked around, once more, siwash charley and his comrades were kicking up the dust in the direction of oberon. "siwash charley showed his teeth," laughed black, immensely relieved, "and now he's showing his heels. motor matt," he added soberly, "i wouldn't have been in your shoes, a moment ago, for all the money in the united states treasury!" the king of the motor boys did not hear the last remark. he had leaped down from the car, and had run forward to the wagon, where he was reaching up and shaking hands with jake. chapter xii. "uncle sam" takes hold. "them fellers stopped me," said jake, "an' was allowin' to unload the flyin' machine. what could i do agin' the lot of 'em, and armed like they was? but the fust i knowed they intended ter smash the thing was when siwash begun talkin' with you. he'd have shot ye, too. i know him, an' i know he's desprit, so i took a chanst with the blacksnake. gosh-all-hemlocks, but i shore made a good throw of it." "you certainly did," said matt, "and i'm much obliged to you." matt turned away from the wagon to talk with the officer in charge of the troopers. the soldiers had come to a halt, and one of them, in the uniform of a lieutenant, had spurred forward. "what's the ruction here?" he demanded. "benner rushed up to the fort and said some one had stolen the traquair aëroplane. he showed us a telegram he had received, told us he had started jake for oberon with the machine, and that a couple of young fellows had happened along, pronounced the telegram a forgery, and had started in pursuit of jake in an automobile. are you one of the lot that chased up jake?" "yes," said matt. "harry traquair was killed in jamestown----" "that's stale news," interrupted the lieutenant, sitting back in his saddle and taking matt's sizing at his leisure. "well," went on the king of the motor boys, "i've come to totten to try out the aëroplane for the government." "you?" the lieutenant laughed. "why, my lad, the machine will do for you just as it did for traquair. who are you?" "matt king." the lieutenant almost fell out of his saddle. "not motor matt?" he asked. "that's what i'm called more often than anything else." "well, this certainly takes the cake!" muttered the lieutenant, pulling at his mustache. "my name's cameron, and i'm a lieutenant in the signal corps. by a coincidence, i'm here to watch the trials of the aëroplane for the government." "where does the coincidence come in, lieutenant?" asked matt. "do you remember a young fellow called ensign glennie?" "remember glennie?" cried matt. "well, i guess i do. why, he went around south america with me in a submarine." "representing the government, wasn't he?" "yes." "well, glennie's my cousin, and he wrote me all about you and that trip in the submarine. so that's where the coincidence comes in. he watched your work with the submarine for the government, just as i'm to watch your work with the aëroplane. give us your hand, motor matt! i feel as though we were old friends." matt was delighted. it was one of those meetings which sometimes happen, and which make a fellow overjoyed with the occasional workings of fate. mcglory, black, and ping were introduced, and then matt took the lieutenant off by himself and narrated the events that had taken place, and which had led up to the villainous work of siwash charley. lieutenant cameron was properly indignant. "siwash charley's a whelp," he averred, "and this murgatroyd is a thoroughbred scoundrel. but the aëroplane seems to be safe, and you'll have no further trouble with those villains. from this on, motor matt, you and your friends and the traquair aëroplane are under the protecting wing of uncle sam. we'll have the flying machine guarded, and you and your friends will stay at the fort with us. there's only a handful of boys at totten, now, but we're more than enough to look after siwash charley." the lieutenant rode over to the wagon. "jake," said he, "you'd better drive back with that machine." "that's what i was calculatin'," grinned jake. "somebody hand up my whip." mcglory gathered in the blacksnake, and tossed it to the teamster. "sergeant," called the lieutenant to one of the troopers, "you and the rest will convoy the aëroplane back to totten. if siwash charley or any of his gang show up, shoot them on sight." "all roight, sor," answered the sergeant, touching his cap. "ride back with us in the car, lieutenant," suggested matt. "one of the troopers can bring in your horse." "i'll go with you," said cameron promptly. he dismounted at once, and turned his horse over to the irish sergeant. he and matt rode in the tonneau, with ping, where they could talk to better advantage, and mcglory mounted to the front seat alongside of black. "my orders instructed me to be of all the assistance i could to traquair," remarked cameron, when they were sliding off toward the hills on the return trip; "so, of course, now that you represent the traquair interests, i consider it my duty to help you." "glad of that, lieutenant," responded matt. "after i get the aëroplane together i'll not need much help. you see, i've got to learn to run the machine. there's a knack i've got to get hold of." "you'll get hold of it, never fear. a fellow like you can learn whatever he sets out to." "but i've only got two weeks," laughed matt, "and there's a fair chance, according to a good many people, of breaking my neck." "that's what i was thinking, when i heard traquair had been killed, and that there was an advertisement in the newspapers for a man of nerve. but, somehow, i feel pretty confident of the outcome, now that i know you are to boss the air flights. let's see. i think glennie wrote me you had had some experience with a dirigible balloon?" "yes, i served my apprenticeship at that sort of flying before i tied up with the submarine." "then you can't be called a new hand at the game." "sailing a dirigible balloon is a whole lot different from driving an aëroplane." "learn it well, motor matt, whatever you do. according to conditions governing the aëroplane trial, you've got to stay in the air two hours, make not less than thirty miles an hour, and carry a passenger. i'm to be the passenger." so long as matt had only his neck to think about, the situation was tolerably clear; but, now that he knew he had to carry the lieutenant along, he began to worry a little. "i didn't know that part of it before," said matt gravely. "don't fret, pard," put in mcglory, turning around in his seat. "if the lieutenant hasn't got the nerve, why, i'll go with you. and i reckon you know about how much i enjoy the prospect of flyin'." "you can't cut me out of that, mcglory," declared cameron. "why, if mrs. traquair hadn't found some one to navigate the aëroplane, i was thinking seriously of offering to do it myself. i was attached to the balloon corps, for a while, but i'm handicapped by a very imperfect knowledge of gas engines. you're the fellow for the job, all right, matt, and you can bet something that i'll not pass up the chance of flying with you. know anything about the traquair aëroplane?" "only what i've found out from a study of the model. apart from that, i've been looking into the subject of aëroplanes for some time. it was the hope of adding to my knowledge of the subject that brought me to north dakota." "and you dropped into a villainous conspiracy right at the start off!" exclaimed cameron. "i'll send a message to oberon, just as soon as we reach the post, and see if siwash charley and his mates can be headed off." "it won't do any good to send a message, lieutenant," said matt. "siwash knows enough to make himself scarce. better let the matter drop--for the present, anyhow." "but there's murgatroyd. he's got himself into a pretty kettle of fish. you can go after _him_." "i don't want to bother with him, nor with any one nor anything else but the aëroplane for the next two weeks." "i guess your head's level on that point," mused cameron. "however, if siwash charley shows up on the reservation while you're at work, we'll lay him by the heels and throw him into the guardhouse. when are you going to put the aëroplane together?" "this afternoon," replied matt. "there's no time to lose." an hour later they were at the post. black had made up his mind to remain over until the following day, and matt paid him his fifty dollars, and thanked him for his work with the motor car. following a late breakfast at the post, matt went down to meet jake and superintend the unloading of the aëroplane. selecting a favorable site for the experiments with the aëroplane required time, and dinner was ready at the post before matt and cameron had picked out a spot which they considered most favorable for the initial trials. following dinner, matt and mcglory, in their working togs, and accompanied by the lieutenant, hustled down the hill to begin work with the aëroplane. chapter xiii. on the wing. the ground matt selected for his initial experiments lay about a quarter of a mile from the post trader's store on the road toward lallie, minnewaukon, and oberon. for a long distance, at this place, the road was level, flat as a board, and smooth as asphalt. it was just the right bottom to give the aëroplane a good start on the bicycle wheels. this part of the road, too, was free from timber, so there could be no accidents from collisions with stationary objects. lieutenant cameron had a large "a" tent brought down from the post, and pitched in a place convenient to matt's field of operations. here the young motorist and his assistants could rest, when they so desired, and make their headquarters at all times. four dismounted cavalrymen were to be constantly on guard, each detail relieving the other, morning and night. the post farrier placed his working tools at matt's disposal, and hammers, hatchets, and wrenches were carried down to "camp traquair," as the aëroplane headquarters came to be called, and matt set actively to work uncrating the machine. the two big planes of the flying machine measured thirty-two feet in length by five in width. for convenience in packing, carrying, and stowing, these planes had been cut into halves, one half dovetailing into the other by means of iron sockets. in assembling the aëroplane, matt worked from memory alone--his study of the model serving him in good stead. both of the thirty-two-foot planes were put together first, and then joined, in a double-deck arrangement, by tough spruce rods, which held the planes six feet apart. the rods were further braced by wire guys, which could be tightened at will by means of turn-buckles. for a width of about five feet the middle section of the lower plane was reënforced with light, tough boards. this platform formed a bed for the engine, the gasoline tank, the mechanism-operating propeller and bicycle wheels, and afforded seats for the operator and one passenger, as well as giving a rigid support for the various levers controlling motor and rudders. the sliding wing extensions, so necessary for keeping the machine's equilibrium while in the air, gave matt the most trouble of all. they slid on ball bearings from under each plane, and were so adjusted that when one extended the other contracted in the same proportion; for, if there was too much air pressure under one wing, it was necessary that the area of that wing should be reduced, while the area of the other was enlarged. the putting together of the two large planes consumed the afternoon; and when matt, weary and tired, answered the mess call of the colored cook sent down from the post, he was able to see that the aëroplane was gradually taking shape. "looks about as much like a bird as i do," commented mcglory. the next morning matt went to work on the two smaller planes which, in flight, went ahead of the machine, guiding up or down, and doing something toward distributing the air pressure. the vertical plane, which had its place in the rear, was likewise adjusted. so rapidly did the work proceed that, by noon, matt was ready to install the motor. traquair, it was evident, had built the aëroplane, put it together, and adjusted every part before shipping it to fort totten. the result of this forethought was apparent in the installing of the engine. every piece had its place and dropped into it readily. the exact point for every bolt and screw was marked. by seven o'clock the second night the aëroplane was ready. mcglory, just before he, matt, and ping went for their belated supper, stood in front of the forward planes. "every boat, pard," said he, "whether she sails the ocean or the sky, has got to have a name; therefore i, by virtue of my authority as assistant to the big high boy who is to navigate the craft, name this aëroplane the _june bug_." with that, the cowboy broke a bottle of adam's ale over the lower plane. "no likee _june bug_," chattered ping. "him velly bum name. why you no callee him _fan tan_, huh?" "_fan tan!_" jeered mcglory. "why, you squint-eyed heathen, this ship's no gamble, but a sure thing. remember the lines of that beautiful poem: "the june bug has no wings at all, but it gets there just the same." "that's good enough," laughed matt. "i'm going to eat and turn in, for to-morrow i fly." the motor was a four-cylinder, and matt judged, after taking measurements, that it would develop about twenty-five horse power. the next day came on with a very high wind, so high that matt deemed it worse than foolish to attempt his first flight. it was hoped that, later in the day, the wind would go down. time was not lost while waiting, however. gasoline was secured from the fort, together with a quantity of oil, and the motor was disconnected and given its own particular try-out. it worked splendidly. next the power was connected with the bicycle wheels, and the _june bug_ was sent along the road under its own power. matt, in the driver's seat, came very near taking a fly in spite of himself, for the wings caught the wind and lifted the aëroplane some four feet in the air. with a twist of the lever, matt quickly pointed the smaller planes downward, and glided into the road again without a jar. the wind held until nightfall, and, of course, all hope of a fly for that day went down with the sun. on the following morning there was hardly a breath of air stirring. all the troopers came down from the fort, and every person from the immediate vicinity of the trader's store assembled to see how well matt would acquit himself of his first attempt at flight in an aëroplane. after making sure that everything was properly adjusted and in perfect working order, matt had the _june bug_ pushed to the centre of the hard road. mcglory was stationed at one wing, and lieutenant cameron at the other, in order to run with the machine and help give it a start. "nervous, matt?" queried cameron, as the king of the motor boys took his place on the seat and lifted his feet to the foot rest. "not half so nervous as you are, old chap," smiled matt. "here, feel my pulse." "i'll take your word for it. don't go very high." "so far as results are concerned, if i'm going to fall it might just as well be from five hundred feet as from fifty. all ready?" "all ready!" mcglory's voice was a bit husky, for he was even more nervous than cameron. the engine was already humming like a swarm of bees. "let her go," said matt, switching the power into the bicycle wheels. in less than a dozen feet, the aëroplane was traveling too fast for cameron and mcglory, and they dropped out. standing breathless where the _june bug_ had left them, they watched the machine rush faster and faster along the road, then, suddenly, swing into the air and glide upward. cheers rang out from half a hundred throats, only to be suddenly stifled as the great wings tilted, fifty feet above ground, into an almost vertical position. matt, they could see, was almost hurled from his seat. a groan was wrenched from cameron's lips, and he turned away. "sufferin' thunderbolts, but that was close!" the lieutenant heard mcglory mutter, and then the cheering was renewed. cameron looked again. the _june bug_ had righted herself, and was rushing off toward the lake, mounting steadily, higher and higher. "that feller's head's level, all right," remarked benner. "how's that?" asked cameron. "why," laughed the post trader, "if he takes a tumble he intends comin' down in the water." "don't you believe it!" cried mcglory. "he don't intend to take a tumble. that pard of mine has his head with him, at every stage of the game." at the watchers judged, the _june bug_ passed over the post some two hundred feet in the air. the contortions of the machine were alarming. first one side would tilt, and then the other. half a dozen times it looked as though the _june bug_ must surely go over on its back, and come down a wreck with her intrepid young driver mangled in the machinery. but motor matt, calm and clear brained, was working to "get the knack." every second he was studying. not once did thoughts of a mishap flash through his brain. at the end of ten minutes he returned from the lake, glided downward, and brought the bicycle wheels to a rest in the road within a hundred feet of the place from which he had started. his face was flushed, and his gray eyes shining as he stepped from the machine to receive the congratulations of everybody, even of the bluff post trader. "i'll try it again this afternoon," said matt. "that's enough for this morning. i want to think over my experience, and see if i can improve my work in any particular point." "you wabble a good deal," said cameron. "i won't--when i get the knack." so that afternoon, and day after day thereafter, motor matt went up and practiced to acquire the "knack." little by little it came to him, every flight teaching him something that it was necessary for him to know. he went up in still air, in light winds, and in breezes that made his friends tremble for his safety; but not once did he get a spill, not once did anything go wrong with the machinery, and not once did he fail to bring the _june bug_ back to earth as gently and easily as he had done on the morning of his first flight. greater and greater crowds assembled to witness the trials. the people came from minnewaukon, from oberon, and from devil's lake city. even the indians gathered from various parts of the reservation, and gazed stolidly while "boy-that-flies-like-the-eagle"--as they called matt--continued to keep on the wing, and learn the knack. as tuesday--the day of the government test--drew nearer, the railroads advertised excursions, and from the department of the missouri came sundry men, high in the councils of the war department, to see how well motor matt would meet the supreme test. on monday afternoon, after matt had finished a flight during which he had kept the _june bug_ almost level in the air, lieutenant cameron caught his hand in a convulsive grip. "i'm ready, matt," said he; "you've got the knack." chapter xiv. dastardly work. ping was a badly demoralized chinaman. he had watched, with soulful admiration, every flight matt had made; he had swelled out like a toad every time the work of his master was applauded in his hearing; and he crept around matt as though he was a joss--a wizard more superhuman than a mere mortal. but the _june bug_ seemed to have become a part of the chinaman. he gloated over it, he patted it affectionately, he crooned strange gibberish to it, and he kept watch of it while in the air and on the ground as though it was the apple of his eye. after matt had finished his last flight before the tuesday trials, ping crept off into the woods by himself, dipped some water into a small china bowl, and dropped into it a cake of india ink. then he stirred the ink until it was dissolved, found a big, smooth bowlder that answered for a table, and squatted down beside it. first, he placed the china bowl on the bowlder; next, he brought from the breast of his blouse a camel's-hair brush, and half a dozen strips of rice paper; then, on each strip of paper, he began painting potent prayers. having finished his peculiar labors, he threw the little bowl into the lake, hid the slips of rice paper under the bowlder, put the brush in his pocket, and sneaked back to camp traquair, arriving just in time for supper. that night matt went to bed early, and mcglory soon followed him. the _june bug_, drawn up to the left of the tent, looked like a ghost in the gathering dusk. around her were the four armed and alert guards. then, again, ping stole away to the bowlder. on its flat top he started a little fire of dried twigs, and one by one he dropped the slips of rice paper into the blaze. when the last prayer was consumed, and the fire had died down to a little heap of white ashes, ping felt that he had done everything possible to insure motor matt's safety and success. it was nearly midnight when he stole back toward camp traquair. he saw a little glow of light in the vicinity of the aëroplane, and he wondered what it could be. creeping forward, he investigated, and laughed at himself for his fears. the guards had secured a lantern, and, in its light, they were smoking and playing cards on a blanket. with the idea of curling up under one of the wings of the _june bug_ and passing the night near the machine, ping made a wide detour around the soldiers, and started toward the aëroplane from the other side. suddenly his attention was arrested by a crawling form moving back and forth, now showing darkly against the white canvas of the planes, and now vanishing in the deeper shadow under them. presently he heard a queer, rasping note, as of a file biting into steel. in a second he knew what was going on. siwash charley was meddling with the aëroplane--was weakening it here and there so that an accident would be certain on the following day. with his heart in his throat, the chinese boy arose to his feet, and started toward the soldiers, his lips framing a cry. but the cry was never uttered. ping had not taken two steps toward the guards before he was felled by a cruel blow from behind, and a black, impenetrable pall dropped over his brain. "begorry, what was thot?" exclaimed sergeant o'hara, starting up from his seat on the ground and looking toward the machine. "what's the matter with you, sarg?" asked one of the others. "i've a notion, d'ye moind, thot i heard somethin'," answered o'hara. "your wits are woolgatherin', old man," said another of the men. "i'll make sure av it, annyways," averred the sergeant. taking the lamp, he walked over to the aëroplane, and looked under it, inside it, and all around. "iverything's all roight, so far as i can see," he reported, coming back to his comrades, "but divil another card do i play this noight. to yer posts, iviry wan o' ye, an' we'll kape our eyes peeled. th' leftinnint an' motor matt sail in thot machine to-morrow, an' there's a rumor thot siwash charley was seen in divil's lake city th' day. cut out th' card playin', b'ys. we've done too much of it already." in the shadow of the woods, three men were carrying a senseless chinaman. "let's toss him inter the lake, siwash," suggested one of the men. "what's the good, hey?" answered siwash. "we'll rope an' gag him. he'll not be found till too late, an' mebby he'll never be found." "but if he saw you, an' recognized who ye was----" "he didn't; he didn't have time. put the ropes on him. twist a cloth into a gag, pete." "the lot o' us would swing fer this if it's ever found out," demurred pete. ping opened his eyes before the scoundrels had left him. he recognized siwash charley by his voice, and he saw his face by a ray of moonlight that drifted in among the trees. ping tried to cry out, but his lips were sealed; and he tried to use his hands and feet, but found them bound. with an inward groan, he sank back and the night of unconsciousness once more rolled over him. when he again revived, the sun was high, and there was a murmur of life from far off in the direction of camp traquair. he lay on his back, his face upward, and he could see the high bluffs of the lake, over toward the post. they were covered with people. what was the matter? he asked himself. how had he come there? why was he bound, and why was the cloth tied between his jaws? in a flash, his bewildered mind remembered all that had happened. he heard again the rasp of the file biting into steel; he recalled his suspicions, his attempt to cry out to the soldiers, the blow that had felled him; then, too, the moment of consciousness in the woods came back to him, bringing the raucous voice and ill-omened face of siwash charley. the aëroplane had been tampered with by motor matt's enemies! and this was tuesday, the day of the trials! if matt attempted to fly in the _june bug_, there would be an accident, and he would be killed! like a demon, the boy fought to free himself. he must get to camp traquair and tell what he had seen and heard. if he did not, the fiendish work of siwash charley would spell destruction for motor matt and the joss of the clouds. what passed in that little heathen's mind will never be known. he was a chinaman, and the workings of a chinaman's mind, while following the same lines as the workings of a caucasian's, are yet never quite the same. ping's fight with the cords that bound his wrists and ankles brought pain and drew blood, and his tongue, from a frenzied gnawing of the gag, was sore and swollen; but he could not free himself. siwash charley and his mates had performed their work only too well. in sheer desperation, ping attempted to roll in the direction of camp traquair. he got perhaps twenty feet over the sharp stones and rough tree-roots, and then his mind faded into an oblivion--quite as much the result of his own horrifying thoughts as of his physical pain and weakness. he awoke to hear cheers, and to piece together, once more, his battered notions of the trend of events. as he lay staring dumbly upward, he saw the cloud joss winging across the woods like a huge bird, high, very high in the air. motor matt was there, guiding the joss, and making it do his will; and beside motor matt was lieutenant cameron. only a moment did the aëroplane show itself to ping's restricted vision, and then the tops of the trees shut it from his sight. far away somewhere the helpless boy could hear wild cheering. what good were choice prayers, painted on rice paper, and burned to the heathen deities? this is what ping's bruised and quivering mind asked itself. by every means in his power, ping had tried to avert disaster. one prayer had been for a calm day. this seemed to have been answered, for there was hardly a breath stirring the tree tops. another prayer was for a safe start. that, likewise, must have been answered, or matt would not now be on the wing. yet another prayer was for the flying machine's safety while in the air; a fourth had been for the machinery; a fifth for the wings; a sixth for a safe descent; a seventh had been general in its terms, and had most to do with motor matt's fame and fortune after the trial was over. ping had burned no prayer for lieutenant cameron. in some manner, he could not understand how, the lieutenant had escaped his mind. while he lay there, miserably going over these heathen things which were all terribly real and important to him, a roar of fear, horror, and consternation came from the distance. turning his head a little, ping was able to see people scrambling over the bluffs, wildly excited. the accident had happened. with a groan, ping closed his eyes, and turned his face to the earth. chapter xv. the government trial. matt awoke, on that memorable tuesday, to find that fortune was favoring him with a clear sky and not enough wind to ripple the flag over the tent. mcglory greeted him in a strangely subdued manner. the cowboy had a lot on his mind, and matt rallied him about his odd reserve. "where's ping?" asked matt, noting that the little chinaman was not hovering around his vicinity as usual. "give it up, pard," said mcglory. "suppose he's off asking his joss to give you luck." people were already gathering on the bluffs, and rounding up in wagons and automobiles in the near vicinity of camp traquair. while matt was looking over the aëroplane, cameron brought several dignified, gold-laced officers, who had come from distant points to witness the trials. the lieutenant presented them, and the boyish, unaffected manner of the young motorist had a good effect on the representatives of the war department. "you understand, do you, motor matt," said one of these gentlemen, "that you are to stay aloft two hours, with one passenger, and travel at the rate of thirty miles an hour?" "yes, sir," answered matt. "i can stay aloft three hours just as well as two, and i think you will see the aëroplane do fifty miles instead of thirty." the officers smiled at his enthusiasm. but they liked it, for it proved that his heart was in his work. "don't push the machine too hard," counseled one of the officers. "i'll not do that, sir," said matt. "before i take up the lieutenant, i'll go up alone, to make sure that everything is working well. i have just found one of the propeller blades loosened--and that looks a good deal as though some one had been tampering with the machine. of course, however," he added, "that's impossible, for the aëroplane has been guarded night and day." "i'd wager my life on o'hara," put in cameron, confidently. "he had charge of last night's detail." as matt's examination went further, he found bolts loose, here and there. in fact, so many parts were weakened that the general result could hardly be called accidental. however, he liked o'hara, and did not want to overturn the lieutenant's trust in him. so, saying nothing, he went on carefully with his examination, tightening everything that was loose. at last he was satisfied that the aëroplane was in as good trim as ever. "i'm a little late in starting," said he to mcglory and cameron, "but it's always well to be on the safe side. be ready, old chap," he added to the lieutenant, "when i come back from this little trial spin." in a way that had become an old story to him and his friends, but which was intensely new and novel to nine out of every ten of the onlookers, matt started the _june bug_ along the road, lifted her into the air, and sailed her far out over the bluff and the lake. everything was working as well as usual. the air craft met the strain in every part, seemingly as staunch as she had always been. at a leisurely jog--just enough to keep the aëroplane afloat with the wings but slightly tilted--matt turned above the lake and glided back to his starting point. he had done no manoeuvring, attempted no speed, and had not tried to break his record for staying aloft. nevertheless, the military representatives were enthusiastic. "wait until you see matt put the machine through her paces," said the lieutenant, smiling confidently at his senior officer, as he took his place in the machine. two signal corps privates ran with the _june bug_ to give her a start. the added weight of the lieutenant made her a little slower in taking the air, and not quite so swift in mounting upward, but matt soon found that she was more easily managed with this additional ballast. "by jove," cried the lieutenant delightedly, "but this is fine! north dakota has turned out a lot of people to see this exhibition, matt. the bluffs are black with them, and everywhere you look you can see people with their faces upturned, either gaping in wonder or yelling with delight. hear 'em cheer! i should think it would make your blood tingle." "i haven't any time for all that," said matt, busy with his levers, and watching everything with a keen, alert eye; "i've got something else to keep track of. you're watching the time?" "yes. it was ten-fifteen when we started." matt slowly speeded up the engine. the route, as already determined on, was to be across devil's lake and back, and then to minnewaukon and back, going over the course as many times as he could during the two hours the aëroplane must stay in the air. at a height of fifty feet above the surface of the earth, their flight through the air became a swirling rush. at top speed--a speed which matt reckoned as fifty miles an hour--he made a wide, sweeping turn over the roof tops of devil's lake city, and plunged off across the lake. a frenzy of cheering arose from the bluffs and camp traquair as the aëroplane darted over them on her way to minnewaukon. "can't we go higher, matt?" begged the lieutenant. "we'll go higher after we make the turn over minnewaukon," matt replied. after that, cameron did not bother matt with questions. the young motorist's every faculty was wrapped up in his work. his ear alone told him how well the motor was doing, and his eyes, ears, and his sense of touch were brought into play in preserving the aëroplane's equilibrium. the merest rise of one wing caused a mechanical shifting of the lever on which matt constantly held his left hand. that left hand of the young motorist had been trained to its work in many an automobile race, and its quickness and cunning did not fail him now. there were some people still left in minnewaukon--not all the town's inhabitants had gone to the bluffs or to camp traquair. those that remained in the place assembled on the streets or on the roof tops, and cheered wildly as the aëroplane veered in a circle and rushed back toward totten. the official recorder was here, as in devil's lake city, noting the time, and jotting it down on a pad of paper. once turned toward camp traquair, matt sent the aëroplane resolutely upward. up and still up the craft glided, forced by the whirling propeller and supported by the air under the planes. "how high do you think we are now, cameron?" asked matt. "three hundred feet, i should say," replied cameron. "i guess that will do. it's easier sailing up here. the air close to the earth's surface is in a constant state of agitation, but at this height it's quieter. don't you notice how much smoother we're gliding?" "i've been noticing that," said cameron. "it's like a boat on a mill pond, only we're traveling like an express train." again they were over camp traquair, and again the wild cheering of the crowds reached their ears. they crossed the lake, turned, once more hovered over camp traquair, then glided downward to a height of a hundred feet, and rushed over the air line to minnewaukon. three times they made the round trip. as they were coming back from minnewaukon the third time, cameron looked at his watch. "the two hours are up, matt," he announced, "and i am almost sorry for it. we'd better go down. you have won the test on every point, and the sale of the aëroplane to the government is assured. if you had a hand free, i'd give you a hearty grip along with my congratulations." "keep that until we land," laughed matt. the cheering came up to them like bedlam let loose as they drew near camp traquair, and matt slackened the pace, preparatory to descending. then it was that the unexpected--so far as matt was concerned--happened. there came a snap like the crack of a pistol, and matt had a sudden vision of a writhing wire rope coiling viciously in the air. it missed him, but struck the lieutenant on the forehead. instinctively the lieutenant arose on the footboard, and tossed his arms. it was a fierce blow he had received, and unconsciousness had claimed him. staggering in midair, he would have tottered off into space had it not been for the king of the motor boys. quick as a flash, motor matt caught the lieutenant's arm just in time to keep him from falling. the accident was witnessed by the thousands of spectators gathered below. for an instant it seemed as though the fluttering aëroplane would be overturned and come rushing earthward; then, as the horrified people watched, the reeling lieutenant was dragged out of sight between the canvas planes, the aëroplane righted suddenly, glided downward, and dropped on her wheels in the road. matt's face was white, but his voice was steady as he called to those who were rushing toward the machine. "cameron is only stunned--he'll be all right in a little while. here, lift him out and lay him on the ground." one of the epauletted, gold-laced officers brushed a handkerchief across his forehead with a shaking hand. "if he lives," said the officer, "he'll owe his life to motor matt. i never saw anything like that before, and i hope i never shall again. gad, how it strains a man's nerves." when cameron was removed from the machine, matt passed to the forward planes and examined the end of the broken wire guy. "it was notched with a file," he asserted, "and for more than two hours cameron and i have been playing with death, hundreds of feet in the air." he passed rapidly to the wire stay supporting the forward planes on the opposite side. "this, also, is notched," he added. "if this guy had snapped, nothing could have saved us!" "what murderous scoundrel could have done it?" demanded a dozen fierce voices. "his name is siwash charley," said matt. "it must have been done last night. find the scoundrel, if you can; he should be made to answer for this." chapter xvi. fame--and a little fortune. "the returns are in from devil's lake city and minnewaukon. time, two hours and seven minutes. distance traveled, ninety miles. this was at the rate of a little less than forty-five miles an hour, and the government ought to be completely satisfied. i know i am. motor matt, allow me to congratulate you." one of the officers was doing the speaking. it was three hours after the sensational finish of the trial. the crowds had departed. mcglory, a few officers, cameron, and matt were in the tent at camp traquair. cameron, his head bandaged, was lying on a cot, but he was wide awake and smiling. "i knew he could do the trick," said cameron; "in fact, i've been confident of that ever since i saw him wabble around on his first flight with the aëroplane. what beats me, though, is how those ropes became notched." "sergeant o'hara thinks he knows how it happened," explained the officer who had read off the _june bug's_ record. "he and the other three guards were having a game of seven-up, last night, when they should have been giving their entire attention to watching the aëroplane. o'hara thought he heard a noise around the machine. he investigated, but found no cause for uneasiness. after that, o'hara declares, the card playing stopped; but, it now seems clear, the evil had already been done." "we don't know that this fellow calling himself siwash charley was the scoundrel who filed the guy ropes," spoke up another officer. "it's a positive certainty, in my own mind," declared cameron. "what your individual belief is, lieutenant, would hardly stand at a court-martial, or in a court of law." "that's true, yes, sir. siwash charley was seen in devil's lake city yesterday----" "circumstantial, but hardly conclusive. he can't be found now. fully a hundred men have been looking for him and are now on the trail, but siwash charley, if he was here, has vanished." "i'm too happy over the way everything came out," put in matt, "to waste any thoughts on siwash charley. the aëroplane has made good. there's no doubt about the sale to the government?" "not the slightest," came a chorus from the officers. "there can't possibly be, matt," added cameron. "that telegram of mine was sent to mrs. traquair?" matt went on. "it was sent from the post within half an hour after the aëroplane landed. by this time, mrs. traquair knows what motor matt has done for her." "it wasn't that that i wanted her to understand, but the fact that a little fortune had come to her, and that she was no longer in the clutches of that loan shark, murgatroyd." "she knows that, too. a little fortune, i understand, has also come to motor matt." "and more fame," put in mcglory, "than one modest young chap like my pard knows how to shoulder." "what little fortune there is," smiled matt, "is to be divided with my chum, joe mcglory, who was a bigger help to me than i imagine he realized. part of the fame should be his, too." "speak to me about that!" chuckled the cowboy. "fame! oh, yes, i ought to be plastered with it. why, i wouldn't have gone up in the _june bug_ for all the fame they tacked onto napoleon." there was a general laugh at this. "i wonder what's become of ping?" matt inquired anxiously. "it isn't like him to hide out on us, in this fashion. the last i saw of him was last night." "there is something queer about that," averred mcglory. "he ought to have been around to exult, ping had, and it's----" o'hara stuck his head in at the tent flap, just at that moment. "beggin' yer pardon, sors, but there's an injun just come, totin' a half-baked chink. do yez want thim insoide?" "sure!" cried matt. "send them in." a sioux indian, looking anything but the noble red man in his moccasins and coat, hat, and trousers, pigeon toed his way into the tent with a brief but respectful "how!" behind him, half carried and half dragged, came ping! the boy was a sight. he was bareheaded and barefooted; his usually neat blouse and baggy trousers were torn and soiled; his hands were bleeding, and there was a wild, despairing look on his yellow face. the wildness and the despair vanished, however, when he caught sight of matt. "by klismas!" he gurgled. "shiwas charley no killee motol matt? hoop-a-la!" and ping ran to matt and dropped down on his knees in front of him, hugging one of his hands in a maudlin expression of joy. "where have you been, ping?" asked matt. "allee same woods. shiwas makee tie hands and feet, stoppee talk with gag. whoosh! my thinkee you go topside, my no come tellee what shiwas do. velly bad pidgin!" then, little by little, matt got the whole story of ping's experience. "you are positive siwash charley was one of the men who knocked you down, here at the camp, and carried you into the woods?" asked matt. "my savvy shiwas plenty much," declared ping. "i guess there's our proof, gentlemen," said cameron. "siwash can't dodge that." "hardly," said one of the officers. "if siwash is caught, he'll be taken care of. what a dastardly piece of work! what made the fellow such an enemy of yours, matt?" "he was only a tool in the hands of another," said matt. "that other man was an enemy of traquair's, and the fellow didn't want the aëroplane to stand the test she faced to-day. the money mrs. traquair is to receive will enable her to pay a mortgage which this other scoundrel holds on a quarter section of land in wells county." "and all this double-dealing is about a mortgage on a quarter section of prairie land! it hardly seems possible." "there is something about that land i don't understand," admitted matt. "but that's the way the matter stands, anyhow, no matter what is back of the mortgage. the government, i presume," he added, "merely buys the aëroplane? what it pays for the machine isn't a purchase of traquair's patents?" "not at all," went on the officer who had been doing most of the talking. "the government simply buys this aëroplane, called the--er--the _june bug_--a name, by the way, which i don't fancy--and the government likewise secures the right to purchase any other aëroplane using the traquair patents, or to build such machines itself, paying traquair's heirs at law a royalty." "that," said matt, "is liable to make mrs. traquair a rich woman." "well, hardly, unless the government goes into the aëroplane business rather more extensively than i think. still, mrs. traquair should be assured of a modest competence, say, a hundred thousand dollars, or such a matter." mcglory reeled on his chair. "modest competence!" he gulped. "sufferin' poorhouses! why, mrs. traquair wouldn't know how to spend a quarter of that money. she----" "tillygram, sor," announced o'hara, again thrusting his head through the tent flap. "it jist came down from th' post an' has th' name av motor matt on th' face av ut." matt took the envelope and tore it open. his face crimsoned as he read, and he started to put the yellow slip away in his pocket. but mcglory grabbed it. "listen to this once," said he, and read aloud: "'how can a poor woman thank you for what you have done? you, and you alone, have saved poor harry traquair's wife and children from more bitterness and hardship than you will ever realize. god bless you! mrs. traquair.'" the end. the next number ( ) will contain motor matt's reverse; or, caught in a losing cause. plotters three--the new aeroplane--treachery and tragedy--murgatroyd's first move--a startling plan--the air-line into trouble--nothing doing in sykestown--brought to earth--the coil tightens--the door in the hillside--a revelation for matt--pecos takes a chance--besieged--the broker's game--cant phillips, deserter--the losing cause. motor stories thrilling adventure motor fiction new york, august , . terms to motor stories mail subscribers. (_postage free._) single copies or back numbers, c. each. months c. months c. months $ . one year . copies one year . copy two years . =how to send money=--by post-office or express money-order, registered letter, bank check or draft, at our risk. at your own risk if sent by currency, coin, or postage-stamps in ordinary letter. =receipts=--receipt of your remittance is acknowledged by proper change of number on your label. if not correct you have not been properly credited, and should let us know at once. ormond g. smith, } george c. smith, } _proprietors_. street & smith, publishers, - seventh avenue, new york city. tricked by two. conclusion. neatly ensconced under the bed clothes, and with its horrible fleshless head laid in ghastly mockery upon his pillow, was a human skeleton. for a moment guy hereford stared at the hideous object. then recovering himself with a strong effort, he shouted violently for his boy rufus. the negro came into the room, showing a double row of magnificent ivories in a grin that stretched almost from ear to ear. "what does this mean, rufe?" demanded guy angrily, pointing to the skull on his pillow. "doan' you get excited, boss," said the nigger, still grinning. "i done dat. i been all day gettin' him. nebber had such a job in all my bawn days." "have you gone clean crazy?" cried guy in amazed perplexity. "no, sah. _dat you!_" was rufe's amazing reply. "doan' you be angry, boss," he went on hurriedly, as guy stepped suddenly toward him. "i done discovered a splendiferous plan to obfuscate dat dar deacon, and dat am part ob de invention. i tell you dat am you." guy was beyond speech. he could only gaze helplessly at the beaming face of the negro. rufus, proud as a peacock, condescended to explain. "it dis way, sah. you going to build a new house soon, ain't you?" "i was," replied guy gloomily. "dat all right, den. now, doan' you be down-hearted, sah. dis niggah bossing dis heah job." "for heaven's sake explain, rufe," exclaimed guy. "i goin' to, sah. it dis way. dis am de time for burning de woods, ain't it?" guy nodded. for the life of him he could not imagine what the man was driving at. "an' grass am good an' long right up to de back ob de garden?" "yes." "den dis my plan, sah. i set out fire in de woods to-night, set him in ten, twelve places. dere's a win' blowin' from de west. ef we doan' touch it de house burn down sure." he paused with an illuminating chuckle. light began to dawn on guy. "you mean," he said slowly, "that we're to burn down the shanty and make them think that i've burned in it. that skeleton's to be me." "you done hit de bull's face in once, sah!" cried the negro in high delight. "dat just de way i figure it out. in de morning dat no-'count deacon, he come round to see you an' find out if you done got de money for him. den he find nothin' but de burned-up house an' de burned-up bones." "'pon my soul, rufe, i believe it's workable," exclaimed guy, a light of hope appearing on his puzzled face. "in course it am workable, sah. deacon, he can't get no money from a daid man. dat one thing mighty sure!" "but won't he suspect anything?" suggested guy. "not if dis niggah still alive," declared rufe emphatically. "i tell you, marse guy, i goin' to do down dat man proper. he find me hyah, just a-howlin' and a-carryin' on ober dem ole bones, an' i tell him all about how de fire come in out ob de woods an' how it cotch de house, an' how i done try to pull you out. oh, i fool him 'to eights.'" guy couldn't help laughing. rufe's enjoyment over the prospective humbugging of deacon was so intense. "you see, marse guy," went on rufe eagerly, "deacon he be so glad to think you daid, he never bother to t'ink whether you foolin' him. he next heir, an' all he t'ink be to get de place an' all de t'ings dat belong to you. he nebber go to dat inquisition at all." "and what's to become of me in the meantime?" asked guy. "you got money, ain't you?" "yes, luckily i've got twenty dollars or so in the house." "well, dat all right. take de train an' go down to tampa on de gulf. swimmin' in de sea do you a power o' good, boss. i reckon you better take some oder name an' den walk down an' cotch de train at some place furder down de line dan pine lake." after a little more talk guy and his man settled up all the details. it was agreed that the house should be sacrificed, and that guy himself should temporarily disappear and go down to tampa. after the inquest on blissett, rufe was to write to him there at the post office and tell him how things turned out. the worst of it was that dandy had to be left behind. it would arouse suspicion if the pony were taken away. but guy, who was anxious above all things that his horse should not fall into deacon's hands, even for a few days, thought of a way out of the difficulty. he gave rufe a note for his wages for two months, and told him that on the following day he was to go into pine lake and file a lien on the pony for his pay. then the two set to work to take guy's few articles of value out of the shanty and hide them. this they did by rolling them in a big rubber blanket and burying them in the dry, sandy soil in the orange grove. this took some little time, and it was nearly eleven o'clock when guy was at last ready to go. "now, mind you, rufe," were his last words to the negro, "don't you overdo it, and don't let deacon see that you hate him. a little soft sawder won't do any harm." "doan' you worry your haid, boss," replied rufe consolingly. "i reckon i keep up my end agains' deacon or any of dem folk. to-morrow, after i seen deacon, i go to pine lake an' hear de inquest on blissett. den i write an' tell you all dat happen." guy nodded. "i shall be desperately anxious to hear the verdict," he said. "if deacon doesn't give evidence, the worst they're likely to return is manslaughter." "doan' you worry, boss," said rufe confidently. "i reckon it am going to be 'justificational homeyside.' deacon, he won't give no evidence. he be too busy gettin' ready to move over heah." "only hope so," said guy. "now, good-by, rufe. remember all i've told you." master and man shook hands, and guy, slinging a small bag across his shoulder on a stick, walked away from the shanty which had been his only home for four long years of hard work and happiness, and disappeared into the forest. he had not gone far before a flickering glow gleamed redly on the serried ranks of tall, straight trunks. he turned. half a dozen pin points of fire were visible on the far side of the clearing. they grew rapidly, and presently the night sky was all aglow with leaping tongues of flame. the soft breeze which soughed through the tops of the pines sent the flames sweeping down upon the little house, which stood a squat, black mass between the watcher and the blaze behind. fascinated by the sight, guy stood motionless, watching the destruction sweep upon his home. the many little fires joined forces, and guy could plainly hear the roar and crackle as the tall, dry grass burst into hissing sparks. there was little chance of any one interfering to save the house. now that blissett was dead guy had no neighbor within a mile, and in the spring of the year fires are too frequent in the florida woods for any one to pay attention. the cattlemen are always busy burning off the old grass to get fresh pasture for their herds. now the whole sky was alight, and the blaze illuminated the sleeping woods far and near. red-hot sparks were falling like rain upon the shingle roof of the cabin. another minute, and little streaks of red fire were winding like snakes about the eaves. "she's going," muttered guy sorrowfully. yes, once the fire got hold of the sun-dried pine of which the house was built the flames rushed up in great leaping columns. the place burned like a tar barrel, and the glow became so intense that guy shrank away further into the woods for fear of being observed by any one who might possibly have been attracted by the blaze. still he could not tear himself away from the sight of the destruction of his old home. sheltering behind a huge pine trunk, he watched till, with a loud crash and a hurricane of sparks, the roof fell in, and of the shanty no more remained than a shapeless pile. with a deep sigh guy hereford turned away, and never stopped until at four o'clock in the morning he boarded the south-bound mail train at the small wayside station of kissochee. * * * * * "any letter for george hatfield?" the smart clerk took up a bundle of letters, ran them rapidly through, and flung them down. "nope!" guy hereford's face fell. "quite sure?" he asked. the clerk glared. "what do you think?" he asked sharply, and the other turned slowly away. "what's happened?" he thought uneasily. "why hasn't rufe written?" he was hardly outside the post office before a bare-legged nigger boy thrust a paper in his face. "here y'are, boss. _tampa sentinel!_ all de details ob de horrific tragedy up in orange county." guy grabbed a paper, shoved a quarter into the astonished youngster's hand, and, without waiting for change, was off like a shot. he reached his room in the boarding house where he had put up, and tore the paper open. yes, here it was--a whole column! "strange double tragedy near pine lake! well-known cattleman killed. his nearest neighbor burned to death. two inquests in one day." so much for the headlines. guy gave a deep sigh of relief. "nothing about murder, anyhow," he muttered. then he began to read rapidly. slowly his expression of anxiety changed to relief, and then to amusement. finally he burst into a fit of laughter. "fine! dandy!" he cried. "my good oliver, you are a peach, and no mistake. this is the absolute limit." and dropping the paper he lay back in his chair and laughed till the tears rolled down his cheeks. "dat am too bad, marse guy. i nebber t'ink you heah it all from dat fool newspaper." the deep voice made guy fairly jump. springing to his feet he swung round, and there was rufe, dressed in his best sunday-go-to-meeting clothes, and with an expression of deep annoyance on his ebony face. "you rufe?" "yes, sah. i come down all de way by de train to tell you de news, an' now dat blame paper done tole you de whole t'ing." "not a bit of it, rufe. it hasn't told me half. if you hadn't turned up i should have taken the next train back to see you and find out just what has happened. tell me, is deacon in possession?" rufe, somewhat mollified, grinned. "yes, boss, he dar right enough. he camping in de stable." "hasn't got dandy, i hope?" put in guy anxiously. "no, sah. dandy in de libery stable at pine lake." "that's all right. now go on. tell me what happened. did he come over yesterday morning?" "yes, sah; he come ober about ten. an' you ought to hab seen his face when he foun' de house burned!" "he asked for me, i suppose?" "yes, he done ask for you at once, an' i show him de bones, an' tell him you all burned up. fust he look flabbergasted, den he sort o' chuckle, and i feel like whanging him one ober de haid." "what happened then?" "he act like he think he boss an' i his niggah. he tell me go get a wagon an' carry de bones into pine lake. say it sabe trouble hab one inquisition 'stead ob two. i act meek, an go borrow a spring wagon an' hitch dandy up, an' we take de bones in, an' he tell de sheriff. i t'ink dat sheriff kind ob like you, marse guy. he mighty worried. den he say; 'quite right. hab one inquisition on bofe de bodies.'" "did you go, rufe?" "you bet i go, boss. firs' dey hab blissett's body. all dem cracker chaps look at de haid, an' deacon he gib evidence an say he seen it all. he say dat blissett done tried to shoot you, and you didn't hab no pistol, but you was real brave an' ride hard at him, an' knock him off de hawse, an' de hawse kick him an' run away into de woods." rufe stopped to chuckle at the remembrance. guy laughed too. he quite understood deacon's motive. his cousin wanted to pose in a good light before the jury, so that there could be no chance of suspicion falling on him that he was implicated in his--guy's--death. "den de sheriff he get up an' say dat you was a very nice gen'elman," went on rufe, "an' dat mistah deacon's evidence was very straight, an' dat dere was only one verdict for dem to give, an' dat he left de matter in dere hands. "so dey just talk a bit among demselves, an' den de foreman, old abe mizell, he get up and say dat dey was all agreed dat harvey blissett was killed 'cause his skull not so hard as de heel ob his hawse. "den dey hab de bones in, an' i gib evidence." rufe swelled with pride. "what did you say, rufe?" "dey ask me if i could 'dentify dem dere bones. i say i reckon dey mus' be you's, 'cause i find 'em in among de cinders ob your bed. i couldn't sw'ar, i tole 'em, because i warn't dar when it happens. i tell 'em i coming home from courting my gal, an' see de fire an' run; but t'ain't no good. i too late. all burned up before i get dar. anyhow, i ain't seed you since." "so they gave it accidental death?" "yes, sah. dat's what dey said, and said dey was sorry, 'cause you was a promising young gen'elman." "and what did deacon do?" anxiously inquired guy. "he go round to de record office to get your land put in his name," chuckled rufe. "den i see him ride out on a libery stable hawse." guy roared. "i reckon it going to be de wors' shock he ebber get in his life when you rides up to de ole place," remarked rufe presently. "i rather expect it will," replied guy feebly, wiping his eyes. "come on, rufe. there's a train back at twelve-thirty. just time for dinner, and then the sooner we're home again the better." guy's first task, when he arrived at pine lake, was to call on anderson the sheriff. anderson, who was fat and fifty, went positively purple at sight of the man upon whom he had held an inquest! guy told him the whole story, all about the quarrel between himself and blissett, about deacon's threats and rufe's plan. the only thing he did not mention was the fact that deacon had stolen and sold blissett's horse. anderson listened first in amazement, then with amusement, and finally went off into a fit of laughter. "that rufe's a wonder," he said. "i didn't reckon there was a nigger in florida with that much sense. but, look here, young fellow, you've been taking mighty big liberties with the law. according to law you're dead, and buried, too. what d'ye reckon we're going to do about that?" "don't know, i'm sure, mr. anderson. that's what i came to you about," replied guy coolly. "reckoned i could fix it for you, eh?" there was a sly twinkle in old anderson's eyes. "i guess i'll have to try. but, say, don't you go wasting time in here. ef that thar cousin o' yours hears as you ain't as dead as he hed supposed, chances are he'll be getting his gun." "all right, sheriff," said guy. "i'll get along. i am under obligations to you about the business. i'm afraid it's given you a lot of bother." "i ain't kicking," said anderson dryly. "the state pays my fees for an inquest. good-by." ten minutes later guy and rufe were in a hired buggy, with dandy in the shafts, spinning lightly homeward over the sandy roads. it was dusk when they reached the gate. "so you've brought the horse back," came a sharp voice as rufe pulled up in front of the stable. "a mighty good job you did. take him out and tie him up. then you can sling your hook as fast as you like." "what for should i git from my boss' land?" asked rufe with such a delightfully innocent air that guy, close by under a tree, almost laughed out loud. "git!" deacon roared, "or by----" a muscular hand gripped him by the back of the neck, and cut short his sentence. deacon squirmed round. his eyes fell on guy hereford; he gave a scream like a woman's, and dropped as if he'd been shot in the head. "now, oliver," said guy quietly. "perhaps you'll be good enough to explain what the thunder you mean by coming and camping on my property." the man rose slowly to his feet, and his eyes were venomous. "so you tricked me," he ground out between clinched teeth. "well, i rather think we did. rufe and i between us," replied guy coolly. deacon burst into a storm of furious invective. he cursed guy by everything he could think of. at last he wound up. "you needn't think you've got the best of me. i'll raise the country against you. they'll have to have one inquest over again. i'll see they have both. i don't care what happens to me. i'll see you hung yet. i swear it." guy waited until the other stopped, exhausted. then he said very quietly: "oliver, what's the punishment for horse stealing? five years' penitentiary, isn't it? i think that's the minimum." it was quite enough. deacon went white as ashes. "listen to me," said guy with sudden sternness. "if you're anywhere in orange county this time to-morrow i'll denounce you for stealing and selling harvey blissett's horse." without another word deacon slunk off into the gloom. guy never again set eyes upon him, for less than six months later the ruffian was killed in a brawl with a cuban cigar maker. idaho to feed elks. an effort will be made by the state to prevent as far as possible a repetition of the wanton destruction of large numbers of elk which took place in fremont county last winter. the animals had been driven by extreme hunger to approach the settlements, and, weak from starvation and struggling in the unusually deep snow when they reached the lowlands, were killed and skinned. in many cases, reduced to mere skeletons, their meat could not be used. the idea of the game warden is to arrange if possible to have cheap hay shipped into the country where the elk abound and place it where the animals, when their natural food supply gives out, will be able to find food. several of the ranches in the elk country have put out hay for the animals for a number of years, and they have not been long in locating it when the snow gets deep in the hills. in this manner they are enabled to keep in good condition throughout the winter, and when spring arrives return to their usual haunts. the eastern part of the state forms the principal range for these animals which the authorities are endeavoring to protect from the pot hunters and specimen seekers. stringent laws have been enacted, which, if carried out, will go a great way toward protecting the king of north american game animals. noisy avians. the bellbird, which makes perhaps, in its natural state, the greatest noise of any known avian, is found both in south america and certain parts of africa. its voice will carry on a still day a distance of quite three miles. its note is like the tolling of a distant church bell, and is uttered during the heat of the day, when every other bird has ceased to sing and nature is hushed in silence. the hornbill, a bird which is widely distributed in india, the malay archipelago, and africa, has also a very loud note. its call has been described as "between the shriek of a locomotive and the bray of a donkey," and can be heard a distance of a couple of miles. fish that cannot swim. more than one species of fish that cannot swim are known to naturalists. perhaps the most singular of these is the maltha, a brazilian fish, whose organs of locomotion only enable it to crawl or walk or hop. the anterior (pectoral) fins of the maltha, which are quite small, are not capable of acting on the water, but can only move backward and forward, having truly the form of thin paws. both these and the ventral and anal fins are very different from the similar fins in other fishes, and could not serve for swimming at all. other examples of non-swimming fishes include the sea-horse, another most peculiarly shaped inhabitant of the sea, and the starfish. latest issues buffalo bill stories the most original stories of western adventure. the only weekly containing the adventures of the famous buffalo bill. =high art colored covers. thirty-two big pages. price, cents.= --buffalo bill and old weasel-top; or, the man from nowhar. --buffalo bill's steel arm pard; or, old weasel-top's mission. --buffalo bill's aztec guide; or, the white indian. --buffalo bill and little firefly; or, playing with death. --buffalo bill in the aztec city; or, little firefly's friendship. --buffalo bill's balloon escape; or, out of the grip of the great swamp. --buffalo bill and the guerrillas; or, the flower girl of san felipe. --buffalo bill's border war; or, the mexican vendetta. --buffalo bill's mexican mix-up; or, the bullfighter's defiance. --buffalo bill and the gamecock; or, the red trail on the canadian. --buffalo bill and the cheyenne raiders; or, the spurs of the gamecock. --buffalo bill's whirlwind finish; or, the gamecock wins. brave and bold weekly all kinds of stories that boys like. the biggest and best nickel's worth ever offered. =high art colored covers. thirty-two big pages. price, cents.= --three brave boys; or, adventures in the balloon world. by frank sheridan. --archie atwood, champion; or, an all-around athlete's career. by cornelius shea. --dick stanhope afloat; or, the eventful cruise of the _elsinore_. by harrie irving hancock. --working his way upward; or, from footlights to riches. by fred thorpe. --the fourteenth boy; or, how vin lovell won out. by weldon j. cobb. --among the nomads; or, life in the open. by the author of "through air to fame." --bob, the acrobat; or, hustle and win out. by harrie irving hancock. --through the earth; or, jack nelson's invention. by fred thorpe. --the boy chief; or, comrades of camp and trail. by john de morgan. --smart alec; or, bound to get there. by weldon j. cobb. --climbing up; or, the meanest boy alive. by harrie irving hancock. --comrades three; or, with gordon keith in the south seas. by lawrence white, jr. --a young snake-charmer; or, the fortunes of dick erway. by fred thorpe. motor stories the latest and best five-cent weekly. we won't say how interesting it is. see for yourself. =high art colored covers. thirty-two big pages. price, cents.= --motor matt's daring rescue; or, the strange case of helen brady. --motor matt's peril; or, castaway in the bahamas. --motor matt's queer find; or, the secret of the iron chest. --motor matt's promise; or, the wreck of the _hawk_. --motor matt's submarine; or, the strange cruise of the _grampus_. --motor matt's quest; or, three chums in strange waters. --motor matt's close call; or, the snare of don carlos. --motor matt in brazil; or, under the amazon. --motor matt's defiance; or, around the horn. --motor matt makes good; or, another victory for the motor boys. --motor matt's launch; or, a friend in need. --motor matt's enemies; or, a struggle for the right. --motor matt's prize; or, the pluck that wins. --motor matt on the wing; or, flying for fame and fortune. _for sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to any address on receipt of price, cents per copy, in money or postage stamps, by_ street & smith, publishers, - seventh avenue, new york =if you want any back numbers= of our weeklies and cannot procure them from your newsdealer, they can be obtained from this office direct. fill out the following order blank and send it to us with the price of the weeklies you want and we will send them to you by return mail. =postage stamps taken the same as money.= ________________________ _ _ _street & smith, - seventh avenue, new york city._ _dear sirs: enclosed please find_ ___________________________ _cents for which send me_: tip top weekly, nos. ________________________________ nick carter weekly, " ________________________________ diamond dick weekly, " ________________________________ buffalo bill stories, " ________________________________ brave and bold weekly, " ________________________________ motor stories, " ________________________________ _name_ ________________ _street_ ________________ _city_ ________________ _state_ ________________ a great success!! motor stories every boy who reads one of the splendid adventures of motor matt, which are making their appearance in this weekly, is at once surprised and delighted. surprised at the generous quantity of reading matter that we are giving for five cents; delighted with the fascinating interest of the stories, second only to those published in the tip top weekly. matt has positive mechanical genius, and while his adventures are unusual, they are, however, drawn so true to life that the reader can clearly see how it is possible for the ordinary boy to experience them. _here are the titles now ready and those to be published_: --motor matt; or, the king of the wheel. --motor matt's daring; or, true to his friends. --motor matt's century run; or, the governor's courier. --motor matt's race; or, the last flight of the "comet." --motor matt's mystery; or, foiling a secret plot. --motor matt's red flier; or, on the high gear. --motor matt's clue; or, the phantom auto. --motor matt's triumph; or, three speeds forward. --motor matt's air ship; or, the rival inventors. --motor matt's hard luck; or, the balloon house plot. --motor matt's daring rescue; or, the strange case of helen brady. --motor matt's peril; or, cast away in the bahamas. --motor matt's queer find; or, the secret of the iron chest. --motor matt's promise; or, the wreck of the "hawk." --motor matt's submarine; or, the strange cruise of the "grampus." --motor matt's quest; or, three chums in strange waters. --motor matt's close call; or, the snare of don carlos. --motor matt in brazil; or, under the amazon. --motor matt's defiance; or, around the horn. --motor matt makes good; or, another victory for the motor boys. to be published on july th. --motor matt's launch; or, a friend in need. to be published on july th. --motor matt's enemies; or, a struggle for the right. to be published on july th. --motor matt's prize; or, the pluck that wins. to be published on august nd. --motor matt on the wing; or, flying for fame and fortune. price, five cents at all newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, by the publishers upon receipt of the price. street & smith, _publishers_, new york transcriber's notes: added table of contents. italics are represented with _underscores_, bold with =equal signs=. replaced oe ligatures with "oe" (ligatures retained in html version). page , corrected "tranquair" to "traquair" ("keep matt from flying the traquair"). page , added missing open quote before "rather a peculiar way." changed single quote to double quote before "no, there is no way out." page , added missing quote after "yes, yes." page , corrected "mat" to "matt" ("matt, taking from his pocket"). added missing apostrophe to "well, i haven't got it." page , changed single to double quote after "destroy that aëroplane?" page , added missing "with" to "'i'll go with you,' said cameron promptly." removed unnecessary comma from "my lad." page , changed "suspicious" to "suspicions" ("recalled his suspicious"). page , changed "forune" to "fortune" ("little forune had come to her"). in "noisy avians," changed "can be heard" to "can be heard."